The Rend

Armory watched as tensions only heated further with the new arrival. A few moments ago this whole affair was interesting, and made the cyborg curious about what was to happen next. Now however he was starting to get irritated, these people were being ridiculous, in their current situation there was only two possible things that should be happening. Either they should be working together to get out of here, or those involved with heated tensions should be battling it out, killing each other preferably, so the ones still interested in surviving could continue to do so. All this arguing however was getting everyone no where.

Armory started to open his mouth, only to stop as another newcomer made himself known and said something rather callous that made even the friendly murderer shudder somewhat. This apparently angered the strange ice fairy who began to fly into the air and whip up a storm. With rain. Armory shuddered visibly this time. Things couldn't be getting any worse for the cyborg, it seemed everything that could kill him or cause significant damage to his systems decided to rear their ugly heads today. He frantically looked for the umbrella, anything really to shield him from the rain. He stopped abruptly when he noticed the strange force field around him, causing the rain to harmlessly slide off the force field. He breathed a sigh of relief, and watched as awe as the strange woman's storm only grew worse, only to shortly fade. That woman whoever she was fully reminded the cyborg of many of the heroes from his own world. A powerful,self-righteous, do-gooder, with a pompous attitude. Though it hardly mattered with her sudden disappearance.

Rend clearly didn't approve as he spoke again sounding as unsure and as before. Clearly he didn't put much thought into this game of his, which greatly irritated the cyborg. If you're going to do something like this you should at least do it right. It seemed however that they were not meant to be fighting each other at all, rather work together to finish likely dangerous tasks, and even protect one another. Suddenly John understood.

To him it seemed just like a contract he would accept back home. Get called in, assigned a job, get it done, then get paid. Though he obviously wouldn't get paid for this, he had hoped he would at least be rewarded with freedom back to his world. In any case he knew his goal, or at least part of it. Work with these people, and keep them safe. If that's what Rend wanted, well then that's what he'd get.

He looked over the others, for the time being his teammates. "Well as odd as all that was at least it cleared a few things up. We're supposed to work together then, and the gates open. So we should probably get going, and sort the rest out on the way". As he spoke he noticed that at least two members of the group had already made their way for the gate, with out so much as a word. The antisocial soldier, and Eze both made their way to the gate, Eze looked significantly weaker, he was practically shambling away. Rend's punishment no doubt. While he couldn't deny that he was glad, was much weaker than before, the damn lizard was going to get himself hurt going off on his own in his condition like that. Not that he cared personally but Rend did say to protect each other. He looked over at the others once more, particularly the ones who seemed to share the same universe.Looks like you all still have some issues to work out though. So why don't you settle those out and come to an agreement? Peacefully this time if you don't mind. I'm going to check on the dragon, make sure he doesn't fall over or something. Try not to take to long alright. I'm assuming that the sooner we get this done, the sooner we get to leave. With that he parted from the group,grabbed his bag, and made his way to Eze.

As he walked toward the dragon he could clearly see the effect Rend's punishment must've had. The guy deserved it for stirring up all that nonsense with the lightening but still. You know you probably won't get very far like that on you're own. You should wait for the others. Maybe rest a bit, who knows how long they'll take. Whatever Rend wants us to do probably won't be easy. I bet that's why he brought so many of us."

Rasteva heard the Girl's approach before she even spoke, her small Dragon Beast padding along beside her. The armored figure let out another creaking groan of frustration at her question, still lying facedown in the dirt.

"No, Rasteva is not all right. Rasteva is small. No respectable Daemon exists under twelve feet. It is shameful."

The Daemon was vaguely aware of the Girl's pet nudging at one of their legs, and Rasteva managed to summon the strength to flap an armored hand in its direction before pushing themselves up to a sitting position.

The visor of Rasteva's helm was pitch black, their burning eye not visible yet it was easy to tell that they were staring at the ground. "This is an issue that cannot be resolved easily. This one can recall a time when they were bound to another's will....But Kingdoms have come into being and long fallen since that time."

Rasteva let out another creaking groan. "And this is.....Different. Rasteva is not sure how weak they truly are this way." The armored figure glanced at the giant sword sitting next to them, its blade wider than the Daemon was tall. "This One is sure to be restored to glory if they play Rend's game..But there is no telling how long that may take....Or of Rasteva will survive to see that day.

The Daemon fell silent, mulling over their thoughts. Uncertainty was something rarely felt by the armored figure, much less uncertainty in regards to their own ability. They were also reluctant to reveal the depth of their doubts to the girl standing beside them. The people brought here with them seemed confident in their ability. And Rasteva had little reason to doubt in their ability and experinces on their own worlds.

But here it was different.

Here a God stole the power from two beings he thought too dangerous to leave unchecked. Rasteva was not sure about the Dragon Man Eze, but judging from their earlier display they were clearly not to be trifled with.

The armored figure already knew well the cost of putting a Daemon under one's thumb.

Rend's inexperience was obvious. But the same could be said for their immense power.

And that truly was what made the current circumstances so dire. He could very well set before the small band a challenge they were incapable of defeating. And in his inexperience they could all wind up dead.

Many of the people within the Arena probably felt well in charge of the situation. But Rasteva had just received a small taste of the Game Master's power.

They did not like it.

Letting out another creaking groan, the Daemon moved to stand, pushing down the surge of rage they felt as they were truly reminded of how small they were now. Staring first down at their sword, now too large for them to wield and then up at their massive polearm, still encased in ice.

"Rasteva shall return for these. This one always returns...." Glancing down at the Girl and her pet, the Daemon nodded their horned head, their burning eye sparking to life within its visor. "Come along. If we go together we may fare better than going off alone."

"Hm?" He looked skyward, to wear the torrential downpour had fallen from the clouds, soaking the once dry ground of the arena turning the dry dust into a thick sludge, the kind that held your boots down with every step you take. Parting with a lonesome squelch as you tried to move. This wasn't nearly as interesting to Amos as the sky, which had immediately reverted back to it's arid heat. It was gone without a trace, just like the woman who he assumed called it. Lucky break in his mind. She skipped out right before this 'Rend' character depowered the loudest of them all. Served to make things more interesting for the leader he figured, which made things more interesting for them.

He shook himself off, each raindrop that landed on his gear flying aimlessly into the puddles below, absorbed by it's sibling liquid in an instant. The rain did little to quench whatever fire was causing the original two to argue, wings and fury over there. Political idealisms from the sound of it, mixed with some personal issues they had. Whatever, they could trade words neither listened to all they wanted. Long as they got moving.

Which a fella who looked a lot like him pointed out, by 'looked' Amos was references the dual revolvers, one shy of his trio, and cybernetic implants. All seen and studied through his right eye. His own differed in looks, as his enhancements were all internal, and linked with his biology in the subtlest of ways. A feat only accomplished by a faction that put the majority of their scientific weight behinds genetic enhancements and robotics.

"Ayup." Was the first word that came out of Amos's mouth. He decided to throw in with the other cyborg for now, less out of a sense of brotherly connection, and more because he was moving the group forward.

Amos suddenly spun around, his grey shawl freeing the last bits of moisture from its folds and sending them curving into a swirl that misted around his body as it moved. His revolvers, long barreled things balanced perfectly to fit his hands flashed from his two side holsters, they were single actions, requiring a quick thumb of the revolver to pull back so the hammer could fall and send the hot metal flying.

Hot being literal here, as each bullet that left was sheathed in white hot plasma, perfect for melting/shattering the faye ice that incased Rasteva's pole-arm.

"Can't leave a fella without his weapon can ya."

Amos paused before re holstering his weapons, waiting to see if any of them had gotten jumpy over the sudden onslaught of bullets. He didn't figure tensions were that high, but you never knew with some folk.

Kor"Fuck him, he's not worth it." Makorai's shade toward Drake came from a place of fresh wounds, each emotional cut symbolized a friend he lost on the battlefield during the assault. While he blamed Erubesco for underpreparing them, this didn't lessen his dislike for the boy, or his desire to put a round in his kneecap.

"Hey hold up." Makorai grabbed a duffel bag from on the ground, the bottom covered with mud thanks to the flashy distraction by the magical princess of 'I'm not going to get anyone else out forget yall, peace'. He hooked the strap onto his shoulder, and swung the duffel bag around so it lay on his opposite hip, directly under the same shoulder his sniper was resting on.

He grabbed another and did the same, this one resting on his back, hefted into the air slightly by his battle pack.

"Hey, take one, maybe it's medicine and we can cure ourselves while waiting for the assorted assholes to die of unnatural causes." The light tone of his voices suggested it was a joke, as Makorai wasn't the kind of person to let someone die over something as simple as an argument.

Once he was beside her again, he intertwined their arms synchronizing their paces perfectly, and giving him someone to lean on during their journey.

Despite everything he felt...excited. His life had been a mixed bag of ups and downs with the most exciting things he'd ever done consisting of shooting people while they launched their powers and bullets at him. Something about this was appealing to him, but he couldn't quite figure what it was.

"You think you could turn that heat thi-

Makorai's head snapped over to the sound of bullets flying, part of him thinking that one of their crazier companions had decided to ignore Rend's warning, and off someone.

In actuality, it looked like grey on brown had free'd armour man's weapon in a very un-Arthurian way.

"Yeah your heat thing on a bit, our cloths are soaking wet."

'and form fitting' he thought, allowing his chocolate brown eyes to wander down Kora's form for a second.

'Focus Makorai."

“Well, I have no fucking clue what a Shao is,” Stride said, the words rolling cleanly from her tongue, “and I ain’t really human, either.” These words came with a slight snort, as if she were speaking of an old joke shared with a longtime friend. Gripping her sleeve, the fighter rolled the fabric partway to her elbow, revealing the flesh beneath. While there was a fair amount of fresh, albeit pale, skin, there was a patchwork of scales littered haphazardly across her arm. They glistened brightly in the sunlight, reflecting some of the light into fractured patterns. Stride gave one area a light tap before quickly bringing it up once again, crossing both upper limbs across her chest. “I’m a halfer, ya could say.”

Idly, the woman eyed her company once more, gaze lingering on the gaping hole of Khojin’s cheek for a bit longer than necessary. “What ‘bout you? You’re, eh, kinda a new deal for me. ‘less you’re some sorta demon deal, there.” Stride gave a small rotation of her wrist, as if gesturing towards the whole of the girl before her.

Then, inevitably,

“Hey, ah, ya...do know ‘bout the…” Stride reached up, tapping her own cheek. “deal there, yeah? Want a band-aid or somethin’ for that?” While she wasn’t exactly squeamish, having a large part of your face ripped off tended to be painful, and being so uncaring of the opening there was a bit...off in the hybrid’s eyes.

Some distance away, she could see the weird armor guy- a lot shorter, from the looks of it- plant into the dirt, and hate to bite back her laughter. After all, when you’ve seen a guy try and cut someone in half for no reason other than “she annoyed me”, it was rather funny to see them knocked down a peg or two.

Literally.

She watched a bit longer as some cowboy began to shoot at the armor’s weapon before turning back, waiting expectantly for Khojin’s response.

It was Khojin's turn to snort now. 'Demon deal.' Heh. "Not exactly," she replied, scratching the scales on her chin. "Za Ri."


This girl was weird and sort of tactless. Khojin decided she liked her immediately. She stuck her tongue through the hole in her face, the thin black thing dangling a couple of inches past her chin. Satisfied with her display, she withdrew her tongue with a small giggle that was almost girlish. She'd always noticed people staring at it, but Stride was the first to actually ask about it.

Didn't mean she got a straight answer. "Never seen a sex scar before?" She teased. "How sad."

The arena was soup.
These bickering Gifted – they were the broth of the soup. The wildly differing strangers - they were the meat and vegetables and spice. Evidently, Rend decided that this amusing soup needed some more volatile juice. Another unstable isotope for this experiment.

Literal unstable isotopes involved.

The new fuel for the fire was very bad fuel for fire. Again, literally. It would be very bad to light him on fire for everyone involved. So, when Skip III was warped to the Rend from the lab, and his eyes met with flames and a general scene of chaos, he skittered backward in his bright yellow Chuck Taylor’s.

As though Drake’s comment about irradiated insides had summoned him, suddenly, here was the SKIP project in all his beaming glory.

Fright filled him, at first—was this some new reality-bending isolation punishment of Balthazar’s? But hadn’t he been good lately? But the fear quickly ebbed. An enormous smile split his elfish face. He wasn’t alone. No – a gloriously confusing scene - a prostrated armor-wearer, an honest-to-goodness dragon, a lizardlike monstrosity—and a familiar ginger-haired berserker.

“Valkyrie!” Skip cried, glowing with delight—literally glowing, which was a bit offputting, actually. His instinct was to swoop in for a hug but, well, fire. And as if it wasn’t Christmas already, Skip’s acid yellow-green eyes landed on yet another familiar face—or rather, a familiar back of the head, for Skip had popped up right behind the dragon boy.

Drake could be hugged without fear of causing Chernobyl.
And so Skip flung his arms right around the leathery wings and cheerily greeted, “Hi, Smaug," before looking up. "Where are we? Who are all of you people? Can I pet your dragon? Or like, ride it? I’m Skip the Third. Are we dead? Which afterlife is this? I kinda wanted to meet Cerberus ‘cause I’ve always wanted a dog that didn’t die and that’d be like having three dogs."

More people were beginning to appear within the Arena, and it was starting to look a little strange. But that took an immediate backseat to what currently occupied Rasteva's attention.

One of the newcomers, in what was obviously a kindhearted gesture on their part, had decided to free Rasteva's Polearm from the ice it had been encased in.

A Polearm that was now several sizes bigger than the Daemon due to a particular God's meddling.

The weapon was freed with a great degree of fanfare, ice shard glittering in the sun as the Stranger shot it to pieces. And the Daemon WOULD have been glad to see their weapon again.

Had it not been toppling towards them at breakneck speed.

The Daemon made a low grating sound, the noise akin to metal plated grating against each other. Their sole burning eye watched balefully as the Polearm descended heavily toward the ground, prepared to flatten anything unfortunate enough to be caught standing beneath it.

Rasteva took several steps to the left.

The weapons shaft hit the ground loudly, dirt being flung wildly into the air upon impact. Rasteva let out another grating sound, this time in irritation as they were promptly covered from horned head to plated foot in dirt.

"Unbelievable."

The Daemon turned around slowly, oddly pleased to see that the Polearm's blade hadn't cleaved anyone in two. it'd have been rather embarrassing otherwise. A weapon that could kill effectively WITHOUT its master.....

Brushing dirt from themselves, the armored figure turned to address the stranger nearby. "Rasteva appreciates what you were trying to do, but given my current....Predicament, This One is unable to use their weapon as they are." Rasteva, glared at the large weapon sitting uselessly on the ground. "Perhaps when This One is big again, they shall return for it. At the very least you have saved Rasteva time spent freeing it themselves. Thank you."

The Daemon turned towards the small group gathered nearby, and strode towards them. Rasteva felt odd, their current body far too light then what they were used to. They were still unsure of how weak they were in their present state, but the Daemon recalled Rend's statement about putting them all on equal footing. "This One should be no worse off then the rest then. Weaker to be sure, but not wholly incapable....." All the same, the Daemon thought it best to remain with the group called here, they would do no better than the rest of them and it made little sense to go wandering off alone.

"There is literally no point in talking to you. You're either lying through your teeth or you're enough of a naive little lemming to believe the bullshit you're spouting. Or a bit of both. Either way I got nothing else to say." Kora responded dismissively to Drake.

She might have been tempted to spell this out further, but Makorai's urgings to move on drove her to drop it. He was right, the little punk wasn't worth it. Plus it wasn't just herself she had to concern herself with at this point. She'd seen more Knights die lately than she wanted to ever again, so if nothing else she felt some responsibility to avoid that, even if she didn't have much interest in getting back to the front asap.

She started walking once again, and on request she flared up her hands, instantly evaporating the water up to her elbows in a burst of steam.
"You make me feel so useful, Saika. Soldier to storage heater." she muttered.
The knight was considering whether the kit stuff needed drying out more urgently, and, powering down one hand for a moment, had taken one of the packs from her companion to look through the contents. That was when she heard a familiar voice.
"Skip? Skip!" a pretty unconflicted smile broke across the woman's face at the sight of the little talking glowstick. She doubted anyone had ever been quite so pleased to see something that emitted harmful radiation.
"No-one's dead Skip. Some powerful thing's messing with us. It's like Balthazar stuff all over again." Considering that point and his history, she corrected herself.
"Well, so far, marginally less frightening, but y'know. We should get a move on."

She snapped off the other hand so Skip could approach without the immediate danger of his core blowing them all to kingdom come, and started collecting her things. It was at that point that the girl whom she'd nicknamed 'Pipsqueak' started speaking up.
And Kora, despite her better judgement considering these people, felt compelled to speak up as she slung the bag over one shoulder.


"For a place that's had storms, lava, spiders and sharks in quick succession, you're sure applying a lot of conventional logic.

If this place is controlled by some weird omnipotent thing, then the day ends when it wants it to. Who's to say it lasts twenty-four hours?
Same with the game. How we gonna know what's edible and what's poisonous? "

She reached into the bag, pulling out a few packs to illustrate.
"There's food in these, and I'd assume this thing isn't going to try and kill us of with our own rations. Wouldn't really be worth all the effort of setting this up. Far as I'm concerned this isn't so much about conventional knowledge as understanding what the rules are."

People had finally stopped yelling.

This was good.

The sooner everyone came to an agreement, the sooner they could set off. And the sooner they did that, the sooner they could complete the tasks Rend set out for them. This in turn meant that they would all be able to return to their respective homes, and that meant Rasteva would regain their power.

And the sooner they did that, the sooner the Daemon could tear the God's head from his shoulders for daring to offend them in such a manner.

But that could all wait. First some things had to be settled.


Nodding curtly, the Daemon spoke up. "Rasteva is inclined to agree with the Little People. This world adheres to the same rules found on most others, and in many Realities beyond. This One is not sure where or when we are, but it is clear that you are not in any more danger than you would be in your own Realities." The armored figured paused, their single eye drifting side to side in their Helm's visor. "From what we have seen, this 'Rend' has taken many necessary steps to ensure that your basic needs are met. There is little to say that that the wildlife would be particularly dangerous unless he made it so."

The Daemon a plated shoulder before continuing. "Rasteva is not certain about how the passage of time may affect you, it means little to This One. But Rasteva is aware that mortals enjoy sleeping.....Rasteva is also aware that your kind are easier to deal with when they are not tired."

Rasteva took a moment to glance around, noting that while most gathered were prepped for battle, more than a few were not. "Another point must be made. We are not sure what we will come across on our travels, as such it is imperative that we all be prepared for battle. This One is aware that many of you can fight, but for some of you that may not be a viable option." The Daemon's burning eye focused on each person in turn, boring into them. "With that said, those of you that cannot fight WILL learn to do so. This is a point not for discussion. We have no viable way of telling how this Reality will turn out, but the better equipped all are, the easier it should be to navigate. And This one feels that they need not discuss how much time can be saved if we are not forced to rescue every individual incapable of engaging in combat. If you are unsure of your abilities, the Rasteva will gladly assist. The fact that I am not as powerful as I once was in no way negates several millennia of Combat Experience.

The Daemon reached up, a metal claw tapping at their horned head, their voice taking on an amused tone. "It has been some time since Rasteva has had to use their head before their blade. This One only hopes that they are still capable of doing so."

Verge's discovery of one of the bags had not gone entirely unnoticed.

At least one of the assembled creatures was watching rather intently.

The skitter of blunt, canine claws on the wet rock sounded as a large, rather damp dog came bounding over, shook itself off extravagantly and dropped into a sitting position at the young man's feet. It long tail sweeping back and forth furiously across the ground as the animal's mismatched eyes flicked from hi, to the bag, then bag to him, with a look of great expectation.

Whilst Verge had been somewhat unsure of who exactly this bag was meant for, this dog appeared to know exactly where it belonged.

----

Of the folks that hand landed, for lack of a better word, there was still one who had yet to actually rise to their feet.

A figure was lying sprawled over by the side of the arena, by this point surrounded by a puddle of rain after their inert body had been pushed into a small dip in the irregular rock by the force of the storm. Some ceremonial headdress made from some fossilized bone hung askew from their head and the odd, slightly sinister assortment of ragged clothes and skins it wore were now soaked and sodden.

Tendrils of red hair spread across the rock like some kind of deep sea creature washed ashore.

Odd, crude talismans on flax and leather stings hung splayed out on the rocks, glinting with moisture.

Red and blue dyes has seeped into the still water in disparate webs of stringy colour.

Somewhere, a ritual had been interrupted.

Skip twisted about as Drake wriggled free, surprised.
He'd expected a punch in the face. Like last time.

"What's wrong with you, Smaug?" Skip chirped sweetly, stuffing his hands in his pockets but making no effort to follow. "You're usually so nasty and hostile to me. I never know what to expect from you, buddy. How're we ever gonna be friends if we don't get it all out in the open?"

He said this with almost perfect seriousness. His big tennisball-yellow-green eyes looked almost perfectly sincere. It was unclear whether Skip genuinely wanted to be friends with the boy, or simply wanted to mess with him.

"Dunno what his problem is," he added, noticing the way Fell's nose touched the leg of his black pants and taking this as an opportunity to pet the "dragon"'s head with both hands like the creature was an enormous canine. "I mean, I killed him once, but he was being rude, and he came back, and I said I was sorry."

Skip's expression tightened a little at Kora's mention of Balthazar, but he nodded, recovering his smile pretty quickly.
So far, a lot less frightening. He wasn't alone. He could hang close to Kora. Or as close as safety mandated.

"Shame I missed the sharks."

There were plenty of people here to help and bother.

And speaking of helping, his so-far childish excitement calmed as he looked around at the mess of humanoids and otherwise, and heard something about rules. He was good at rules. Good at puzzles and games. This was just like anything at the labs. A bit weirder maybe. He wasn't stupid, despite evidence to the contrary, and he could follow orders very well when necessary. "Someone could taste test the food if everyone's worried. I don't think we're all supposed to die, but it could be part of the puzzle. Is this a puzzle? It sorta seems like a puzzle. I'd volunteer but, um. I don't think I should be the test. And that's not just for selfish reasons. Aheh." He cleared his throat. "Are we going somewhere? What can I do?"

Ezenvare Queem

---

Eze wasn't too terribly surprised when Armory had arrived, as he had not been moving at the fastest pace and Armory was sure to have reason to want to leave as well. However, Armory chose to talk rather than just walk past the nearly shambling half-dragon and what he said was just another reminder to the fact that Eze would always fail. Why does fate rub the fact I am useless in my face? Why?

Armory then spoke like Eze was useful. Stopping only to turn around, Eze said "I doubt I am going to be much help. I can't even diffuse an argument, how am I supposed to protect others? Hug the enemy till they kill me? Not only am I dry, but I can't pull back my wings thanks to this..." Eze didn't even pause as his voice slowly rose into a soft yell, "FOOL of a god! The only thing that this has served was to prove I am useless! Useless! All because I tried to help! All because I tried to cause some space! All because I am only bound to fail! I may succeed every now and again, but it always leads to the same thing! Failure! Someone I care about dying! Every single time! For 300 years!"

Done with his little rant, Eze turned away from Armory, taking a moment to regain his balance as the weight of his wings on his back nearly caused him to topple over. As his balance returned, the half-dragon stood with his head down in shame. Maybe I should just sit here and see if I starve or dry to death first.

Ma’am. While others might have chosen to correct what was, really, a completely honest mistake, Madison chose not to- at least, not for the moment. He hardly bothered these days until it was completely necessary for him to do so, and the young man had already flounced off before he could have the chance to do so. As such, the vampire merely blinked once, twice, thrice, then trailed after. It was rude not to answer a question, after all- especially when said question pertained to someone who had escaped captivity as easily as waving her wrist.

As soon as he was in proper earshot once again, Madison slowed to a stop, taking care not to plant himself in a puddle or anything of the sort (these heels had been expensive, after all!) before speaking. “I’m afraid that she didn’t tell me anything about getting out,” he admitted. “She was in a bit of a...rush to get out, you could say. All she gave me was a warning before- well, considering you saw her before she left, I’m sure you know what she did just now, too.”

The lie came naturally, the researcher not missing a beat throughout his words. While he was sure that this one wasn’t as...volatile as the others, he was still determined to keep the existence of the fairy’s presents hidden for the time being. With how the gathering had been acting, and how powerful the woman had shown herself to be, there was enough evidence to make Madison reasonably wary- or so he felt. Even if they decided to properly ally, there was still the chance they would attempt to use the capsules for more malicious purposes. So he simply decided to keep his lips sealed, absentmindedly adjusting his packs as he stood.

Soon enough, Madison seemed to realize something, and smiled brightly even if the other’s eyes were not on him. “I’m Madison, by the way; it’s nice to meet you.” Curious as to what had drawn the man’s attention, he peered over his shoulder, looking at the contents of the bag from where he was. A question had begun to form itself on his lips, although it was soon and suddenly replaced upon catching sight of a dog trotting up.

The question itself was delayed again as the vampire cooed at the canine, bending a little in order to pet its head.

Once he had remembered what he had been about to say, Madison raised his head, although he kept his eyes locked on the little beast for the time being. “Is she yours? She’s beautiful!” Although he typically disliked assumptions, the other had been rifling through a bag stuffed to the brim with dog treats and other miscellaneous objects, so there was at least some evidence to do so.

By the point that both Adira and Rasteva had spoken, he had lowered himself to the ground already, tucking his duffel bag beneath him so as to avoid getting himself wet. He appeared completely and utterly distracted by this point, so his sudden raising of voice seemed to only spring from nowhere at first.


“I have to agree with Kora on this, actually. After all, you two- such a cute little puppy- you two seem to be assuming that our host didn’t add in other challenges for us to deal with. This...being has been acting extremely erratically which leads me to believe that there may be some things that we can’t expect outside- I’m sure you all remember the sudden lava, after all. We have enough rations to feed all of us, I’m sure, and the gate can be barricaded…” He paused once again, moving to actually look back at the others.

“I would say that we should cast a vote. From what we’ve heard, we’re all a team, and if one of us ends up wounded, we’ll all end up punished one way or another. Shall we?”

After all, he was no leader. Calling a vote and conducting himself as if he was was only stir more tension, or so Madison believed.

It was with a sort of morbid fascination that the hybrid watched Khojin’s...tongue? loll from the massacred flesh, waving about in the open air for a long, uncomfortable moments. It was like watching a car crash- it wasn’t really the most pleasant thing to watch, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away. It was only until the muscle was pulled back into the “Za Ri’s” mouth that Stride blinked, continuing to squint at the opening as if expecting it to suddenly start expelling beetles.

“That’s fucked up,” she muttered decisively, giving a short shake of her head. “Ya know, where I come from, ya don’t usually tear open someone’s face when you’re screwin’ ‘em. Least, we have a rule ‘bout that; ‘don’t stick your dick in crazy’.” Stride paused, giving Khojin another once-over. “Or, ya know. ‘Don’t let batshit insane stick its dick in ya.’.” The true rule of thumb, really, no matter the race or origin.

Adira’s words caused her attention to be drawn away from the weird horror-story shit she had just witnessed, and it was with a sense of disbelief that Stride listened to the dragon-rider boss everyone around. Her disbelief was only increased as the weird suit of armor chimed in, and, eventually, Stride began to chuckle just a bit louder than before.

“Look,” she said dryly. “I don’t care if you’re the princess where you’re from or whatever, but I can’t say I really wanna go jump off a cliff cause some magical armor and some kid told me there was a buncha pillows at the bottom of it. Hell, I could just be trippin’ by this point cause some asshole decided it’d be fun to slip some drugs in my drink, but I’m still not gonna just fuck off into the wilds like this.” Idly, Stride brought her gaze about in a circle, taking in the surrounding party.

“Just cause ya think the voice cut pieces from our worlds doesn’t mean everythin’s baby-proofed. For all we know, someone came from Monty Python, and there’s a buncha killer rabbits everywhere. There were fuckin’ lava spiders out there, ya know- and whose to say the voice might end up lettin’ one of us die off to make things interestin’?” Popping a stiffened joint in her neck, Stride let out a small sigh before continuing on.

“I’m votin’ that we just don’t follow the lead of the underdressed fifteen year old and Iron Man. Not sayin’ we hide in here forever, but we should at least find a place where we know there’s no poison dolphins or anythin’ like that.”

Absentmindedly, Stride took notice of the weird little glowing guy who had joined DoppleKora, but her attention did not focus for long on them. There were more important issues at hand, after all.

Khojin gave a very exaggerated look around the arena. "No poison dolphin's here," she commented, letting her duffle bag fall to the ground.

There was a point to what she said, of course; thus far none of the dangers claimed to be present in this world had appeared in the arena. Even the lava sharks had stopped at the gate, with one only passing the iron barrier when it was yanked in by a homicidal man encased in magic metal. This also seemed to be the only known location people had arrived at; wouldn't it make sense for the area to be warded against outside dangers? She said as much to the others.

"I mean, yeah, I could be wrong, but judging by our current track record this is our best bet," she waved up at the iron wires strung over the arena's mouth. "That's a good defense against anything from the air, an' the only t'restrial entrance is the gate, which we could probably close if needed. Or, failing that, drop Big Man Metal in the center of it. He seems reasonably impervious. Did you get smaller?"

She didn't notice before, but the suit of armor seemed to have shrunk several feet. Unfortunate. Still, her point remained. Oh, she almost forgot.

"Hey, jus' by the by, if we're s'pose to be a team wouldn't it be better to separate into groups?" she asked, lacing her fingers behind her head. "I mean, we'd be slower and attract more attention if we all jus' followed each other. Like, I dunno bout you guys but in my world travel in the Wastelands mandated groups no larger than four or five, unless you were lookin' to raid one of the Gaian settlements."

"Oh. And, uh, I'm Khojin. Not sure if we did introductions."

---

Azai had been enjoying a night's rest in his web just moments before and now he was falling... and falling... and falling. He wasn't a fly! He didn't have wings! How the hell did that ominous voice think that it was a great idea to have him spiraling down in the darkness like this? He had tried to use his webs to cling to something but this inky blackness had no ledge, branch, or ceiling. It was just emptiness. He did have a strange bag that appeared beside him but that wasn't helping him right now. He almost wished he was back in the mansion he despised. At least things there made sense! Why was it that he was the one that always got snatched away from his home and brought somewhere else? This was the second time, damn it! And this time, he hadn't even done anything to warrant his capture!

Suddenly, the shadow seemed to break open and spit the spider out and he continued to drop. The ground and people were fast approaching. "Ah!" he cried out a bit undignified as he landed on one of the creatures below. Both he and the stranger hit the ground hard though Azai had to admit, he was lucky this guy cushioned his fall. He winced and started to try and get to his feet but the damn bag dropped on his back then and he winced as he hit the man beneath him again. He groaned and shook his head, his dark strands falling against his pale skin. He looked up, his deep amethyst gaze catching a glimpse of the dog in front of him. He had never seen a creature like him before. His eyes widened as he got on his hands and knees, careful to actually use the ground as leverage instead of the man. He pulled himself off the stranger and dusted himself off, his gaze never leaving the strange four-legged beasty. He wondered how the creature's innards tasted like.

The black widow then realized there were others in the strange place he found himself. He tensed and crouched low. He gave a hiss and bared his fangs. He really didn't like meeting strangers as of late. The voice said he was in a different world, but was it really a different world or was the master of the house toying with him? Punishing him for biting that patron? He wasn't supposed to bite or harm the others after all but it really wasn't his fault the man kept poking his face. The guy was asking to be bitten. He didn't recognize anyone or anything here. And being out in the open like this put him at a disadvantage. His only true weapons in this situation were his fangs and claws but he couldn't take on all of these strangers. Some of them looked like their skin wouldn't be easily penetrated.

If it wasn’t for her own common sense (and a well-placed pinch), Dawn would have been long convinced that the stress had finally gotten to her. That she was having some surreal fever dream, where dragons and suits of armor and cyborgs walked about as if they weren’t typically products of fantasy. There was another part of her that mused the possibility of them being some odd variety of Gifted, which, admittedly, made more sense. It still didn’t change the fact that voices were apparently coming out of nowhere, or that all of the surrounding group seemed more fit to be in a novel than actual flesh and blood- or, in some cases, metal and oil.

Dawn had found herself pausing instead of pursuing the exit, given the fact that only a few seemed to be trying to leave at the moment. The girl had sat herself in one of the warmer patches, focusing on pawing through her bag and getting tabs on the supplies she had overlooked before. As expected, the duffel contained the basics of survival that many others held- although in contrast to the same majority, hers held no weapons at all. Of course, there was the basics of tools and some knives, although it was clear that all were used more for survival than not. There were clothes, rations, iodine drops and matches, but little else.

However, she was hardly bothered by the lack of supplies inside. After all, the raven didn’t have a reputation for her skills with a knife or gun or anything of the sort, meaning that any such items would have been pointless. Rising from the tile, Dawn allowed the bag to hang over her shoulder in the same fashion as the others, listening with interest as one girl who looked to be about her age, and one of the more...brow-raising profiles, began to reason that they should leave. That the world outside would be completely safe. Considering that she still lacked quite a bit of knowledge on what was happening, she merely contented herself with listening to the argument, attempting to get her thoughts better settled on the events of their apparent capture.

That was, until a familiar voice caught her attention. A familiar presence, which she knew did not belong- shouldn’t even exist for that matter. While Dawn didn’t have the best education in regards to biology, she was positive that after some time after being dead and covered in a few feet of soil, corpses didn’t have brain waves. Or working vocal cords.

Dawn turned.

She had been holding some amount of expectation that when she did, there would be nobody there, really. Even with the oddity that this world was shaping out to be, she was skeptical in regards to it bringing people back from the dead. However, as she completed her rotation, she found no one else than a certain Coleman.

“Drake..?” The word was quiet, but the shock was prominent in her tone nonetheless. It was like seeing a ghost- the other stood as if she hadn’t seen him buried only a short time ago. Dawn did little more than stare for a few moments, unable to comprehend the sight, before breaking herself out of her trance at the sight of familiar green outfits. Erubescian military garb. While she would have been surprised, seeing a dead friend suddenly back among the living had left her a bit numb to shock at the moment.

Dawn said nothing more for another few moments. Silent, processing this information, before suddenly pulling on a smile- somewhat strained, but a smile nonetheless- and bringing her attentions to the man who had fallen from the sky- seemingly out of nowhere.

This was seeming more and more like a trippy fever dream again, or like some Gifted had decided to drag her into some bizarre...thing. She would fully decide which one at a later time.

Rasteva let out an irritated creaking sound, their blazing eye flickering from view for a moment while they collected their thoughts. "Rasteva is WELL aware that the world outside this Arena is dangerous. There was never a point when This One implied otherwise. BUT." The Daemon held up a metal claw. "Nothing will get done here. Rend wanted all here to leave the Arena. That is why they took away the measures previously keeping us here." The Daemon's eye sparked back into view, settling on Stride. "But you strike this one as the type that does not listen well...."

The armored figure gestured to the still open gate. "We are not meant to stay here. The Game Master has decided to move his pieces, and we must go. This One cannot say what dangers we will face outside these walls, but nothing will get done hiding behind them. Rasteva placed both hands on their hips, staring balefully down at everyone. "Rasteva does not think you THAT incompetent, This One is fairly sure many of you won't die the moment you step outside. Otherwise Rasteva would have long since left, and not wasted their time trying to convince you to leave."

The Daemon made another loud creaking noise as Khojin asked them something. "Yes, Ratseva did get shorter. A result of the God stripping me of power. Rasteva expects that you will want to make a mockery of them in their current state." The burning eye bored directly into Khojin."But before you do so, Rasteva would like to inform you they do not sleep.....Ever."

Eye moving to drift across the faces gathered around, the Daemon continued. "You all worry that Rend will send something to kill us out there. Do you really think they will not do so in here? Are you so foolish to think that he will not change the rules in here as easily as he would out there? There is nothing that anyone here can do to stop it, you are all quite aware of this." Rasteva gestured once again towards the still open gate. "So what then, have any of us to lose by stepping beyond these walls? If we leave we might perish. If we stay, we might perish anyhow because we refuse to play by the rules the Game Master has set.....But if we leave, if we TRY, we may be able to escape this wretched place for good."

The Daemon jabbed a thumb at their armored chest, voice echoing loudly through the Arena. "This One, has no intention of dying a Coward's Death in a Fool's Arena! This one feels it better to perish with the knowledge that they tried to reclaim what was lost!"

Rasteva folded their arms across their chest, eye still blazing brightly within their helm. "How long do you think these walls will protect you from the very God that built them?

Khojin gazed up at the sky for a moment, considering. If she were alone, then sure, she'd go out no problem, probably get 20 malms by the end of the night. But with a group of... how many people were there? Here, Adira, Rasteva, the four or five from the same world, Stride, Lightning Hei-Senn, armor dude 2, white hair boy, girl with worse black clothing than her, Shao in the dress, a dog, and the new guy who apparently fell on... Who was that? Regardless, their number was easily around a dozen, far more than she felt comfortable travelling with.

She clicked her tongue and dropped her arms, swinging them a bit at her sides. "Fine. But I still think we should split into smaller groups. If Rend has somethin' he wants us to do, I'm sure he can organize it in stages. Besides, three of the others already bolted, so..." She flicked her finger to Stride, Rasteva, and Adira. "I call these three. If we do go with that idea."

She picked her bag back up and slung it over her shoulder. No use leaving it in the dust. She lifted her leg to begin walking before another thought struck her.

"Hey," she began, resettling her foot. "If we are s'pose to work with each other, shouldn't we know what everyone brings to the team?"