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Ashur The arena holds a strange power over the hearts of men; the thrill of battle brings comfort to homesick hearts, reminder of better times. Might be the immediacy of it, how you can't think about nothing else when fighting for your life. Maybe it's just the endorphin rush of victory, however meaningless, when all other routes are slow and unclear in their pay-off.

Whatever the cause, a group has gathered in the arena today, walking into it, getting sucked by vaccuum tubes, or escorted by alien robotics who speak in mad buzzing tongues -- and oh, what an event the nebulous overlords must have planned, for the place has been decorated most gaily! Polished and refurbished technology from the waste areas has been spread around; shimmering battle-plates from Martian wars, two-handed swords with plasma blades that sear the air, rocket-powered boots, and what appears to be an entire Viking longboat, strewn left and right with treasure and trinket and armament galore.

Wherever you look, there's loot. It's a veritable trove!

And on the other side of it, when the gates open, the holographic crowd swells the sound of their own delight, stomping feet and screaming. A booming voice announces, "Humans! You have struggled, and made a mark on this place; you will be known as champions for all time! But now, it is time for your greatest opponent.. a beast from your own world, of your own making! Behold, GALAXY CRUSHER!"

A massive deathclaw walks out. He's normal enough, big. He's part cyborg and there's a laser mounted on his head and jetpack on his back.
Ashur The air darkens around Galaxy Crusher's head, all ambient energy drained by the panax cells in his alien laser's resonance chamber, transformed into firefly motes of purple-and-black that coalesce into a massive floating ball. The beast roars, and that ball surges forth, stretched out into a searing ray that blows a hole clean through the Viking ship's starboard side and strikes the group with almost no time to dodge. It's dumb luck that Ashur and the others avoid damage, throwing themselves out of the way..

The beam strikes the reflective surface of one of the Martian battle-plates, reflects at an angle, soars up toward the ceiling, and cuts through it like a knife through butter, leaving a trail of molten slag that drip, drip, drips onto the ground in smoking puddle.

The crowd shuts off. The voice shuts off. The arena shakes.

And at once, everyone begins to float. Gravity has shut off! The walls are vibrating harder now, sounds like something broke behind the scenes!
Kang     He'd been hunting for sorcerers since he'd left containment, and finally stumbling back into the arena, he'd been thinking of all the battles he'd fought here previously over the time he'd been kept here by the magics. At the sound of the announcers, his pulse rises and his nostrils flare. "I won't play your games, foul sorcerers! I've played your games for long enough," he declares to the sound of the voice, and looks for the one speaking it. His axe in his hand already, he steps in the direction of the sound of the announcer.
    TThen the dragon spits fire at one of the men nearby, clearly part of his team in this particular arena battle.
    He isn't about to have fire spit at him, and so his declaration of refusing to play is immediately rescinded, "But I will kill this dragon!" and despite being from the distant past, he has fought in enough arena battles not to be totally discombobulated. He does his best to orient and then launches himself towards the beast. Aiming to close on it and cut it to pieces! Coming in with his axe, he cuts it across the arm.
Jackson After last night's.. Simulation? Jack couldn't shake all of the negative emotions he'd had clinging to his mind after waking. He felt powerless, angry, even-- and the obvious solution was to head to the section of the lower levels which had been dubbed, 'The Arena' by their alien overlords. He'd taken several trips into the arena up until now, with varying results. But this time? He was ready for blood. As he strode into the room, he was, as he had been since he'd been spending time on this ship, competely awed in the face of the arena's spectacle. The weaponry alone was plenty fine to take a gander at, but the real treat was the gigantic longship which acted as cover in the arena proper. It was a relic that looked so authentic that it had to have been yanked straight out of the time period. And after his discussion with Doc earlier? Hell, that might've just been a possibility.
Jack stood confidently in the face of the galaxy crusher. Big, nasty, and intimidating as he may have been, he certainly wasn't going to put more than a passing feeling of worry through Jack after the shit he'd been through in that simulation. The beast stared ominously toward him as he casually strode across the arena floor, and after closing a sufficient amoutn of distance, he lifted his flamer pistol with both hands, training it's rudementary sights directly toward the galaxy crusher's head-mounted laser. However, before he had a chance to squeeze down on the gold-plated trigger, the beast moved into action him. He darted quickly behind cover of a sizeable treasure chest aboard the longship, and then.. He fired that laser of his.
The beam lanced toward the group with reckless abandon, punching directly through the side of the longship Jackson had just recently been admiring. As it did so, the holographic crowd screaming for blood seemed to glitch, short out, and disperse as the creature's laser made contact with the ceiling after it's ricochet. The entire areana shook briefly, and the superheated metal was already sizzling as it began to cool.
"Well, that isn't right." As the young man spoke, suddenly, he began to feel a whole shit load lighter-- and after a moment of careful consideration, he idly pushed off of the ground with his right foot, ascending skyward like a god damn superhero.
"Oh, well you can just call me The Human Torch, Mr. Galaxy Crusher."
Ashur Ashur is prepared for a deadly battle when the gravity cuts out. He begins to gently float into the air, eyes widening, at a loss for words. "The ground has fallen away!" He mistakenly declares, staring down to see the great pit that must be beneath them.. only to realize, immediately, that they are moving up, rather than the ground going down. He tries to move forward and spins uselessly, listless. "What sort of trick is this?"

The bull grunts, growls, tries to move, but finds it damn near impossible; it's only when frustration sees him kick a refrigerator floating next to him that he makes any forward progress, and the lightbulb goes off over his head.

Adapting, the beastly man follows in the barbarian's wake -- mouthing, for a moment, a stunned "Grognak?" -- leaping from chunk of debris to chunk of debris, sending it all rocketing around the arena in his wake. At the end of it, he comes in at Galaxy Crusher with a flying Superman punch, bruising a metal plate and the flesh surrounding it as he pushes the creature up into the air further!

"Hah! This is fun!"
Bart Bart is wide-eyed the moment the beast appears. His trusty laser pistol is not going to do much! But he'll have to try or die. The nerd's eyes start calculating and ticking over the debris and the things floating as everyone starts rising. He steadies himself like a flying squirrel before he finds a piece of broken wall to push off of, sending him sooooaring closer to the combat itself. When he finds another chunk of wall to cling to, he steadies himself, staring at Ashur, Kang and the Beast have it out in zero-G.
Kang     "Mind your magical fires, sorcerer, or I'll come for you next!" Kang the barbarian yells at Jackson over his shoulder as he orbits the dragon, grabbing onto it intermittently, pushing off debris and doing his best to stay in close proximity of the savage beast. He continues to try to cut at the creature, but the precarious wound to his torso cuts right through the meager armor there, and he lets out a roar as he tries to steady himself and prevent his guts from spilling out into his hands.
    Spinning around the beast in circles, he cuts at it twice more, first landing a glancing blow across its arm again, and a second hit across its torso as he is nearly spun out of reach and has to push off a floating chest filled with robot heads to push him back into reach.
    Blood droplets float in the air around the angry barbarian, but he soldiers on, despite the wound.
Bart Bart is still clinging to his piece of rubble as he peeks over the edge of it to line up a shot. He blasts with a heckova laser beam that glances off of that nice looking power pack on the beast's jetpack. Then his eyes widen as it goes super nova and he is quickly ducking under that chunk of wall again. The blast comes and he still gets nicked and sent flying into another piece of debris to become a Bart sandwich for a moment. There's actually a hint of a pout, "All that treasure."
Ashur Manuevering is difficult in this weightless environment. Ashur feels sluggish and distorted, constantly spiralling in a different direction, his own momentum enemy of balance; when Galaxy Crusher's jetpack sings to life and the beast spins-to-win with razor claws, he's wholly unable to avoid, throwing himself backwards at the last moment to turn disembowelment into merely a jagged flesh wound -- conveniently getting knocked out of the way of Jackson's flamethrower. The impact sends him soaring backwards, a bloodied blimp, crashing into the shattered fragments of the longboat's hull earlier doom-lasered.

"Such a fierce beast," he half-praises, half-complains, kicking off a plank and zooming back into the fray. He barrels face-first through a sea of flame retarding foam, coughing, spluttering, blinded as he launches into a nonstop berserker combo against the beast. A right hook, a headbutt, a kick of t-rex boots that breaks off a handful of claws -- and at last, he shoves the beast ahead, where Bart has a clean shot.

That shot triggers a rather unexpected self-destruct. Ashur, half-blind, choking on soapy foam, is unable to avoid. He blindly flails, and some way or another winds up covering for Grognak, his favorite comic book hero, as the two of them are flung down, down, down toward the ground.

After a moment, gravity turns back on, and everyone falls. Best grab hold of something!
Jackson As he floated skyward, Jackson took an instant to aim his flamer pistol toward their titanic foe. With the lack of gravity throwing his actions out of equililibrium, combined with the fact that he'd never actually FIRED his weapon before, the unexpected occurred. A long, white-hot blast of fire came roaring out of the weapon's barrel, nearly lighting all of his comrades ablaze. Luckily, the deathclaw hadn't been expecting such a chaotic attack, taking the brunt of it's blast with it's scaly mechanical body and a snarling screech of rage. After a flurry of curses levelled at himself under his breath, Jack shouted toward Ashur and the axe-wielding barbarian from before.
"Sorry! I've never used this thing before!" But it was a shot from bart's laser pistol that finally finished the creature off. The explosion that followed, however-- that was a problem. Jackson, being in the air as he was, had to scramble against the nearest piece of debris from the longship to gain purchase on. Then, as the aftershock rushed toward him, he propelled himself with all of his might off of the wooden post he'd 'swam' toward, and somehow managed to avoid the majority of the blast. After the wind was knocked out of him and he slammed hap-hazardly against the arena wall, he finally caught his breath enough to speak.
"My god Bart! You... You Imploded the damn thing!"
Ashur When gravity returns, the arena is.. surprisingly clean. Oh, sure, that's because most everything got sucked into the collapsing black hole twinkling in the air, surrounded by a sea of blood, sand, and extinguisher foam, but still. The vaccuum winks out of existence, leaving the heroes somewhat worse for the wear.

Ashur, his beard frosted white, looking more like Santa than ever before, lets out a booming laugh that echoes through the vast chamber. In his hands, ripped from the beast's head, is the twisted, bloodied laser, still having bits of cyber-claw sticking to the bottom.

"This will look perfect mounted over my mantle!"

A pause.

"When we escape, I'll make sure I have a mantle!"
Kang     When they hit the ground, plummeting from the explosion, Kang helps to lift the big man off of him and sits up, clutching the wound to his torso as he straightens out and wiggles his nose. "Foul dragon, your breath did not touch me, as I told you it would not!" he yells at it and then rolls around and gets to his feet. Wiping bits of 'dragon' gore from his face and chest, and not minding that it mingles with his own blood, because he's Kang the Barbarian.
    "Puny sorcerers! We have defeated your wretched beast, and soon we will come for you and return to the halls of our fathers, and the plains of the Red Sea, covered in your blood! We will tear your fortress from the heavens and smash it down, for I am KANG!" he declares to the dome of the arena and raises his battle axe into the air.
    Turning to look at Ashur, he nods in affirmation at the other huge man and offers him a forearm to grasp.
    "I am Kang! You are a mighty ally, not like these small pitiful sorcerers spitting fire to match the dragon! You fight like a true warrior of the Red Sea!" he declares.
Ashur Ashur looks toward Kang and clasps their forearms, tightening it with a grunt of brotherhood. "I do not know where this Red Sea is," he admits, releasing the arm, "but if it is filled with warriors like you, it would be a fine place to visit. You must show me when we escape here." After all, few people have the balls to charge a deathclaw with an axe. Any place that produces men like that must be worth a visit.

Clutching his bloodied trophy, Ashur gestures to the pile of cyborg parts and plates scattered in heaps. "It might be useful," he announces to everyone, "to rifle through the remains."

And with that, the big lug will turn, and move to leave the arena! He.. actually needs to catch his breath and take a break. He aches.

He leaves the foam beard on for now.