NPF Avatars 5 - Bread and Circuses

[IHateMakingNames]

The stray cat jumped off the table and wandered over to Melfice.

[mauve]

((You didn't know? Well, I guess that means I don't rant about it as much as I fear that I do. That's good to know. ))

"Battlestations!" Mauve cried. "The best part of honest journalism!"

She turned her microphone on to Super Special Awesome Mode. What? Microphones don't HAVE Super Special Awesome Modes? Well what kind of crappy equipment are YOU people using?!

"We report for the GOOD OF MANKIND!" she said. She brushed a stray hair behind her ear and angled herself so that the camera would get the best view of the room behind her.

"Good afternoon, Nuklear Power Forums," she said as soon as the camera was rolling. "I'm here in the hall of the new POS Industries building, where today's contestants are preparing for the battle ahead. The Combat Arena's official referee, REI, has recently issued a warning for an initiation ceremony to begin shortly. Currently most of the contestants are fueling up on food for the day ahead, which will no doubt be both long and bloody."

"Let's get in and talk to a few of the brave men and women who will be laying their lives on the line for a prize which hasn't even been established." She moved in towards some of the competitors.



They were going to out-report their competition at all costs, dammit!! Or at least until they got bored and decided to just harass the competitors mid-battle. That's fun too.

[Bailey]

Keyman turned around to find himself suddenly face to face with Mauve again.

"Oh, hello. Is there anything I can do for you?"

[POS Industries]

As everyone finally got seated at their tables, the house lights dimmed. Lasers and spot lights flashed about and a billow of smoke began emanating from the stage. A rumble could be heard just before the pyrotechnics went off, the lights came back up, the music kicked in, and Pedro O'Sullivan took the stage.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and other assorted unclassifiable individuals... Welcome!" the Hazel-Eyes White Capitalist greeted his audience, "Yes, Welcome to the Second Annual NPF Arena Tournament, where most of you shall be duking it out for the prize of one million dollars in cash, a snazzy championship belt, and a first-in-line spot for the Make-A-Wish Foundation! I'd like to thank you all for coming out as our guests here today, and I'd like to take this time to get you all acquainted with the house rules. Specifically, that this is my house and I rule. Mi casa es su casa, just so long as su don't be fuckin' with any of mi shit. Comprende? ...Good."

"In an attempt to minimize the possibility of any disruptive elements," Pedro continued, casting glances over the Newb entourage, Demetrius, and CT, "I would like to introduce you now to a fun little security measure provided by our friends down at PhoenixCorp. In fact, let's give Madame Phoenix a round of applause, shall we? Without her assistance, much of these events wouldn't be possible, I'm sure." A spotlight was cast over to Phoenix's table as POS led the crowd in applause, while a table carrying several dozen pairs of oddly-designed boots appeared behind him. "This handy-dandy little one-size-fits-all rocket boots have been filled with a new fuel developed by our scientists that, with just a few milliliters, can propel just about anything far beyond this planet's gravitational pull. Should anyone in the tournament or in the audience get out of line, they will be teleported directly onto the offending individual's feet and immediately activated. It should be noted that they cannot, under any circumstance, by steered. Moving on...."

A large viewscreen lit up behind him, showing a bracket with eight spaces with the names of all 24 competitors directly to its left. "Eight of you will move on to round two of our competition, where you will begin fighting each other one-on-one in single elimination combat for the following three rounds. Now, I'm sure many of you are wondering how we're going to whittle 24 combatants down to eight in one round. The answer, friends, is quite simple: the first round is a battle royale qualifier, in which you will all face each other at once, and the last eight standing in the ring will move on! Eliminations will be judged by KO, ring-out.... or death."

A hush came over the room at that last revelation. "Oh yes," Pedro chuckled, "Sorry about that. Unlike the previous tournament, no precautions have been put in place to protect your lives. I find people move with a lot more purpose when faced with their demise, after all. Anyway, eliminated contestants who escape with their lives will be treated to a full rest at our in-house spa, so it's not all bad."

"Now, on to the last thing you need to know before we begin," he carried on, holding a small device up in his left hand for all to see, "This apparatus is one of our own inventions here at POS Industries. Remember the items each of you submitted upon registration? Well, each of you is to be randomly assigned one item from the pot, and these devices will allow you to summon them. Each one contains a biometric scanner that identifies the specific person and, when activated, will use the same teleportation system utilized in our rocket boot ejection system to vanish and materialize that person's assigned item in its place. You will be given one device each as you enter the ring, and upon your elimination the weapon or item given to you will be teleported away, regardless as to whose possession it's in at that point. Let me demonstrate how you activate it..."

Pedro pressed a button and the machine beeped, vanishing in a flash of light and being immediately replaced in his hand by a hot dog. Taking a bite, POS continued. "See? Easy enough. Now, if you all don't mind, I'd like for the competitors to make their way through the door to my right as any of you who are here as spectators exit to the stands through the door on my left. Have fun out there and try to keep it interesting. Think of the ratings after all!"

And with that, Pedro turned and made his way to his private box to watch the violence unfold.

[Nikose Tyris]

"...But... Where's the hats?" Nikose murmured, now worried about what Fenris might have gotten him into.

[CheshireThief]

CheshireThief aimed the Universal Remote at Pedro and pressed the [Pause] button. He ran over to him and pressed the button again to cancel the effect.

"Sorry about that, but I just had to ask..."

CheshireThief flashed one of his signature grins, light reflecting from his incisors.

"Did you prepare my private box, and may I have some guests join me?"

[POS Industries]

Pedro, rather unpleased at being stopped on his way to go do some serious drinking, glared at CT.

"I'm sorry.... Who are you again?"

[CheshireThief]

Rolling his eyes, CheshireThief snapped his fingers, summoning the legions of fangirls (and a few creepy fanboys).

They lifted the Bard upon their sea of outstretched arms amidst various cries such as "CHESHIRETHIEF! THE GREAT ONE! I LOVE HIM! NPF BARD!"

[The Artist Formerly Known as Hawk]

Knowing the forumites, it was highly likely that before anyone actually GOT into the arena, there would be shenanigans. Hawk, here on serious business, decided to just head through the right hand door as quick as possible. The quicker he got into the arena, the quicker he could assess any and all tactical advantages available, as well as see what weapon he had been given for the upcoming fights.

Really, it was the weapon he was most interested in. Not since he had been trapped in his cursed form for all those years had he been weaponless, until now.

Well, mostly weaponless, he still had one trick up his sleeve...

Smiling a rare grin, Hawk entered the arena.

[Nikose Tyris]

Nikose decided it was easiest to just stay next to fenris and tag along any direction he went.