#team deathmatch is what I’ve been looking for I think

[rosiegames]

Glad I gave other game modes a try today actually 👀

[mayhemproduces]

I’ve seen a million MPW’s come and go

We open on a dark, large, empty room, illuminated by a single spotlight. 

There, in the spotlight, is a lone chair. Empty.

Quietly, in the distance, we hear the clacking of boots against concrete floor, as a figure emerges from the darkness. Current MPW World Tag Team Champion, Syn, in his gear, takes a seat in the chair, and looks directly into the camera. 

"No one wants to see that deathmatch shit. If you ever want someone to take you seriously, knock it off. You're gonna crash out and be out of the business before you're 30"

And with that. 

The camera fades to black. 

The spotlight returns, and this time, it’s Will Ospreay sitting there. 

"The shit you do is gynnastics, not wrestling. Why didn't you sign with WWE? You could've made so much more money."

With that, once again, the room goes dark. When the light returns, Will is replaced by Effy. 

"When are you gonna do something more than the gay wrestler thing? When are you gonna take this seriously?"

Once again. The light cuts. 

The light returns, and this time, it’s MPW World Champion, MJF.

“His title reign almost killed AEW, and now another company wants to put a world title on him? How stupid could you be?”

One by one, the light goes out, and the light returns, with a new member of the MPW roster looking directly into the camera. 

Mance Warner. 

“All that bleeding and all that dumb bullshit for nothing more than a hotdog and a handshake every weekend, get a real job.”

Riley Ishimori: 

"All flash, no substance White girl saw Sailor Moon one time and based her entire personality on it, and then ripped off all of Bryan Danielson's moves. Only reason anybody bothers with her is because they respect her step daddy."

Blade: 

“Why do they still try to make Blade a thing? It's clear she doesn't care enough to try, and she's only here because she couldn't cut it in the UFC."

Sardonyx: 

"Oh look, MPW has another goth girl, how original for them. This one complete with trailer trash face tattoos... At least she looks interesting. Sardonyx is so boring that they have to hide her until it's time for her tri-monthly squash matches four weeks before a PPV."

Joshua Bishop: 

“You work too stiff, and you think you’re hot shit because you’re over in Northeast Ohio. Wrestlers like you don’t work on the big stage anymore.”

The cuts coming faster and faster now, some of our stars getting overcut by the others, as the sound of this… criticism grows louder and louder,

Matt Cardona: 

“I loved you in WWE. Why’d you stop doing the Zach Ryder thing? The Matt Cardona thing is lame, too try hard.”

Phantom: 

"She's a damn freak! Wandering around the place, saying nothing to anybody like a zombie, and that mask... she freaks *everybody* the hell out."

Pandemonium: 

“She’s just way too pretty to be taken seriously. How am I supposed to buy that she can grapple with men?”

Samoa Joe: 

“Damn, Joe’s always injured. What a waste… crazy that WWE just fired this guy twice.” 

Sister Abigail: 

“Did she buy her wrestling gear from a sex shop? It’s not enough that she dresses like a whore, did she really have to rip her entire gimmick off Bray?” 

Hangman Page:

“Hangman--or Hangnail as the haters dub him--has been repeatedly criticized by some in the IWC for being a talentless hack who has only ever been pushed because of his friendship with the Elite!”

Louder. It goes louder. 

Julia Hart:

“ Hot Topic called, they want their gimmick back. the cheerleader shit was already tacky, but the goth thing? I've seen it done better everywhere else.” 

Louder.

Steph De Lander:

“have you ever seen someone more of a clout chaser? always with Cardona, Mance, whoever can get her over. if only she was as good in the ring as she is on the mic, which isn't saying much.”

Louder. 

Prince Devitt: 

“ it's all just flips and kicks with him, there's no character work or anything interesting about him. Sure, he's got the queer thing but that's not a character trait, Malakai shouldn't be his main endearing trait.” 

Bambi:

“Literally what the fuck is her deal? What insane asylum did they get her from?? She's a decent aerialist but I can't get past how creepy she is.”

Dyln Blaine: 

“Dumb kid doesn’t respect the business. Someone aught to kick pretty boy’s fuckin teeth in.” 

Their faces all practically intercutting with each other now.

Lacey Karmens: 

“a useless flippy deathmatch wrestler." 

Kamiyu:

"only known for her looks and uses it to hide her lack of talent."

Tomi Nickells:

 "only rides on her daddy's coattails" 

VENY: 

“Using Asuka’s name to further her own career.” 

It gets to the point where you can’t pick out singular sentences, all the members of the MPW roster intercut and talking over each other, until it blends all into one, singular, common phrase out of each of their mouths: 

“You’re never going to make it.” 

And then.

Silence. 

We cut back to the chair, sitting empty. Once again. A quiet set of footsteps approaches.

Paul Heyman takes a careful seat in the chair, flipping it around as he does, as so that the back is facing the camera, so he can lean in. Paul stares for a second, a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“I’ve seen a million MPW’s come and go. They'll be out of business in a year. And in five, ittl be like they never existed at all."

With that, suddenly, the lights begin to come up, slowly. And we’re not in a room at all. And Paul certainly isn’t alone, the entire MPW roster standing behind him, looking up as the lights in the O2 in London go up, and despite there being an absence of fans for now, there’s chanting. Getting louder. And louder. And louder. 

“M-P-DUB! M-P-DUB! M-P-DUB!” 

[popculturebuffet]

July 4th Special Review: Celebrity Deathmatch : July 4th Spectacular W/Bonus Match (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)

Happy 4th you happy people! It’s america’s birthday and sadly it hasn’t been her proudest year what with a bunch of lying , selfish, overpolicing assholes deciding to ban abortion and cost people their lives and freedoms because they don’t agree with them, even worse given one of said assholes is a woman herself yet felt this was remotely okay, and two others are out and out sex monsters who somehow got to supreme court.  And yes I am indeed opening with that as while I love this country, I feel what happened in the last few weeks was disgusting and hope despite overwhleming odds we get it overturned. 

It’s been a few weeks caked with dread and being disapointed in our country, so I was thankful to take this review on as it’s a nice break, to take a second and not look on in shame at our country but look at what it’s capable of: a bunch of clay puppets beating each other to death in over the top slapstick while one of the ringside refs pretends to be a vietnam vet. You know something for everyone. So it’s time to get back in the ring with Celebrity Deathmatch

For those less familiar with the show, quick recap: Celebrity Deathmatch was beautifully animated and wonderfully stupid show on MTV, pitting various celebrties dead or alive, they had a time machine after all, in as you’d expect, fights to the death, basically taking the WWE Attiude Era style of the time with it’s violence and crassness and adding in celebrity parodies, wonderful claymation and slapstick yet gory deaths. The result is as you can imagine hit or miss: Some eps i’ve watched haven’t been very good with gilbert gottfrieds guest spot being unreviewable... he was naturally the best part.

But i’m happy to say today’s selection is a keeper. While there is some dated ness to some of the comedy here and there, this is the first ep i’ve watched where only a joke or two in the matches has aged badly. The rest of it works wonderfully and i’m happy to show it to you this america explosion day. I’m also throwing in a cool bonus, a match from another episode i’m doing completely free because i’ve been on a beavis and butthead kick for obvious reasons. You can guess which one. So let’s ring the fucking bell and get ready to rumble shall we?

Wraparound: As usual the show has a running plot with our commentary team, the infalppable Johnny Gomez and wacky screwup who keeps a great deadpan Nick Diamond. Today’s match is set on the 4th itself , and besides celebrating the day with america themed violence , some vetrans are present, including Johnny himself who served in grenda.. a country we invaded and was called out by various countries as “fucked up man”. 

So Nick fakes being a vetran and Johnny while clearly suspcious just sorta rolls with it because he wants to get on with the show. We also get our delightful image form that as Nick sneak attacks Johnny just to prove he was in nam.... and to show off his severed ear necklace. The punchline that he stole all his war paraphenlia including the ears is also great, as is them beating his ass. God bless our men in uniform. 

Opening Musical Number:

The episode is padded out after the card is laid out with one minute and 30 seconds of what I THINK are supposed to be the ramones performing a rock based version of various patrotic tunes. 

Match 1: Bill Clinton Vs Ken Starr

This is easily the weakest match on the card... in part because it’s a match between a serial sexual harasser who lied to the country, ruined a young woman’s life by seducing her (Though Mrs. Lewinski has not only bounced back but was a writer on the American Crime Story season covering the whole affair, which was excellenty), stringing her along and then throwing her under the bus to save himself, and a selfish republican asshat who went after clinton not because he was legit in the wrong, and he was, but because they wanted to bring him down and whose legal team harassed Monica for a full day, keeping her imprisoned illegally. Neither of these men are ones I care if they win. They both suck and I really don’t get what the point is. That Bill Clinton was charming enough to escape the consequences of his actions? That people loved him but piled shit on monica? Yeah as you can tell watching American Crime Story: Impeachment really.. didn’t make this the best watch, but unlike some matches i’ve watched it wasn’t unwatchable either as they did some shockingly good jokes on clinton’s word salad attempts to avoid perjury, and given how trod the road was at the time that’s impressive, and the finish is awesome: Starr in a rage attacks the crowd and clinton punches the fucker into the liberty bell cracking it.  I may no longer like the man.. but damn that’s fun. 

Match 2: James Van Der Beek (W/Bill Clinton) Vs Sadam Hussien

Look I haven’t watched Dawson’s Creek and with the Iraq War since this and the massive loss of life.... yeah this shouln’t of worked. But the sheer lunacy of the match makes it work: Teen, at the time, hearthrob and future best thing abotu don’t trust the b in apartment 23, and that show had Krystn Ritter so i’ts a high bar to climb, James Van Der Beek versus Sadam Freaking Hussien is just too insane for me not to love it from ref (lovingly dressed up like uncle sam) Mills lane checking him for weapons, to James using the asknig about the relationship cliche of teen dramas to sucker Sadam, to BILL CLINTON RUNNIN GIN WITH A STEEL CHAIR, to WMD cheeseburgers, this match is just too lovingly nuts for me to hate and you can’t not like James Van Der Beek finishing off a dictator with the american flag. Him getting arrested for it not so much but still a fun match. 

Main Event: George Washington W/Teddy Rosevelt vs Abe LIncoln W/Richard Nixon

This one is just pure crack in the best way. It’d be fun enough taking two cultural icons and having them try and murder each other.. but the show added in by having manly man and big drinker Teddy Rosevelt and walking garbage fire Richard Nixon as the cornermen, with Nixon naturally talking Washington into fighting dirty, from handing him an axe to convincing him he’s the best. Seeing Washington play heel is amazing and the best use of our founding father i’ve seen this year.. and i’ve seen him as a cannibal. It’s just such a contrast and adding in him using quarters as throwing stars it’s just marvelous. LIncoln meanwhile tries to be civil.. till Washington destroys his hat

Though he looses a leg to the axe, and for once a ref is useful in something resrembling wrestling as Mills Lane orders Nixon out and when he naturally refuses because Sewer Monsters don’t listen to orders well, Teddy decaptates his ass. I mean.. it won’t really stop him from doing his usual stuff

But it’s a valiant effort. We also get lincoln using lady liberty’s tourch to BURN GEORGE WASHINGTONS TEETH. This... this is why I honestly dont’ have a ton of jokes for this one. It’s just so glorious on it’s own what do I fucking add?  The final joke is also great as we get a mount rushmore of president heads, with Nixon in place of jefferson because shut up. All in all a glorious, goryious match. Go find this episode and because you stuck around here’s a bonus treat

Bonus Match: Beavis Vs Butthead

This was part of the episode Fandemonium III though you can find the complete match on the offical mtv youtube. And I recommend you do as this was fun. The writers of CDM got beavis and butthead to a point, and we even get them being slapped greatly after Beavis, as you’d expect, asks if he can do mills lane’s grandughter. Mike Judge even guest starred to do the animation and the voices. So combined with good writing it comes off exactly how you thinmk it  would: The two, given a bunch of cartoony weapons, being entirley stupid and not getting their fighting to the death , instead screwing around with weapons and nearly killing each other, going claymation thanks to fire extinquishers, and generally being themselves. We even get adults not getting how dumb they are with Nick and Johnny assuming their hurting each other is brillant strategy and not you know, a normal thursday for them. The finish is also awesome as we get THE GREAT CORNHOLIO who destroys butthead and shreds him .. and plans to use the shreds as teepee fo rhis bunghole which is horrifying but perfectly fittng. Thanks for reading and happy fourth

[kyber-crystal]

➳ pickup lines || s.w.

summary: you’re oblivious to the fact that sam, your best friend is hopelessly in love with you. and it kills him inside because he’s been dropping hints for as long as he can remember. 

warnings: none, just fluff and a cliche best friends to lovers trope :) 

words: almost 2k

a/n: for @marvelsswansong​ ‘s late birthday present! sorry this was so late and that it’s so bad RIP i tried to write it in one go...anyway our boy sam deserves some more recognition sksksk

“Guess what this shirt is made of?” Sam smirked as he pointed at himself. “Boyfriend material.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a chuckle. “Oh, stop it.”

He slid into the seat next to you at the kitchen counter, swiping the spare muffin from your plate. “Y’know what’s on the menu today? Me-n-u.”

You just shook your head, spreading jam across your toast before biting into it. “Wow.”

“They say Disneyland is the happiest place on earth,” he cleared his throat, “well, apparently, nobody has ever been standing next to you. You are absolutely breathtaking.”

“I look gross,” you argued as you tried to hide your face with one hand, “I got three hours of sleep after helping Bruce in the labs and I’m a mess.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You always look beautiful. Especially to me.”

Even if he was joking, you couldn’t help but feel the butterflies in your stomach at his comment.

“Oh my god, will you shut UP,” Bucky groaned. “You’re cheesy as fuck, Wilson.”

“You’re just jealous because nobody likes you,” Sam retorted. 

“Ooh, shots fired,” you whispered, cupping your hands around your mouth, “need some ice for that burn, Barnes?”

“He isn’t wrong, though,” Wanda shrugged, pouring herself a mug of coffee, “the chemistry is evident here. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten together yet.”

You let out a long sigh and went back to focusing on finishing your meal, not noticing the several glances Sam stole out of the corner of his eye at you.

...

“Y/N. “

“Natasha,” you replied without breaking your concentration on murdering the punching bag in front of yourself. 

“Girl, how long are you going to keep this act up for?”

You dropped your fists by your side, sighing. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You and Wilson.”

“What about it?” you questioned as you began unwrapping the tape from your hands. She handed you your water bottle and you took a long sip, “We’re best friends. I don’t see anything special about that.”

“Best friends or not, he clearly likes you. I’m not gonna sugarcoat this: you’ve been the most oblivious idiot ever. If what he’s doing isn’t obvious enough, then I don’t know what is.”

“He does not. Sam’s just being Sam. That’s who he is. It’s in his nature to joke around.”

“Does he use pickup lines on me in every other sentence he speaks? No. Does he do that to Bucky? Never-”

“Because him and Bucky are rivals, and you guys are just f...”

“Just friends! Babe, you proved my point.”

“Oh, shut up...”

“If you don’t take matters into your own hands, then I will. You keep turning the poor man down and you don’t even know it. Tragic.”

“Natasha, I do not like any-” The redhead gave you her signature ‘look’, crossing her arms over your chest. Your shoulders sagged in defeat. “Fine. I don’t know. I guess I’m scared.”

“What reason do you have to be scared? You’ve gotten shot, you’ve led countless teams into battle before, you’ve taken out aliens with the power of your fists alone. Hell, we survived the Red Room together, and you’re afraid of catching feelings?”

“What if I embarrass myself by telling him?”

“Are you nuts? He’d be over the moon if you did so much as react to what he said. Poor guy’s feeling discouraged by your poker face. Give him a chance. He’s your best friend, you don’t wanna ruin the relationship you have together.”

“Fiiiiiine.” You whined and tossed your sweaty towel at her. “Now leave me alone so I can go take a shower.”

She laughed and tossed it back. “Alright. Tell me when you’re officially dating!”

“I hate you!”

“Love you too, babe!” she called out after you as you left the facility.

...

“SAM!” you yelled from the bathroom “Get your ass over here!”

“Am I in trouble?” he asked innocently as he peeked his head through your doorway. “You need something?”

“I forgot to bring a shirt with me. Can you get mine from the laundry? The black one?”

“Yeah, of course.” You heard him shuffling around before falling silent, then there was a knock on your door. “Here. Take this.”

“Thanks,” you nodded before taking the shirt and closing the door behind you. 

You looked down and let out a groan when you realized he’d mixed up the shirts and given you his instead - a V-neck you’d seen him wear plenty of times when you, him, and Steve went on morning runs together. It was ridiculously tight on him and you absolutely hated it because you couldn’t help but stare. But you didn’t like him. Definitely not.

Right?

Right.

You trudged down the hall to the kitchen, walking into to see Bucky’s and Sam’s awaiting smirks.

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow at him, “Samuel, where is my shirt?”

“Dunno,” he feigned innocence, “I got mixed up.”

“Okay.”

“I’m no photographer, but I can picture you and me together,” he sent you a finger gun and a flirty wink. 

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re such a sap.”

“Y/N! Hi!” Peter dropped his backpack and rushed forward, tackling you into a big hug. 

You stumbled backwards in surprise but quickly returned the gesture, ruffling his hair playfully. “Hey, kid. How was school?”

He made a face. “Sucked. I actually need your help with an assignment. I’m supposed to interview three role models in my life about stuff and Mr. Stark is in the middle of a conference call right now so...yeah.”

“Oh!” Your eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Me? I’m not special-”

“If you weren’t special then Ned wouldn’t constantly fangirl over you to me. He always asks me if it’s true you can shoot lasers out of your eyes and hands.”

You chuckled. “I feel honored. Count me in, Queens.”

The two of you headed off to the labs together, and as soon as you left, Sam let out a loud groan, his face falling into his hands. “She doesn’t get it. I keep throwing hints her way but she doesn’t get it at all. I don’t understand. What exactly am I doing wrong?”

“Y/N isn’t an openly affectionate person. She rarely ever tells people how she feels. She usually conveys her emotions through killing her enemies and channeling all her energy into punching bags,” Bucky replied simply. “And the occasional Mario Kart deathmatch. She’s not very easy to read.”

“Even I had a hard time getting to her,” Wanda admitted. “She’s very...private. Prefers to keep her feelings to herself.”

“Does she even have any sort of clue?” Sam looked over at the young woman with a desperate look in his eyes. “Otherwise I’ve been humiliating myself all this time, for nothing.”

“She likes you, but she’s too afraid to admit it,” Steve suddenly spoke up. All heads turned in his direction. “It’s a thing I picked up from my ma when I was young. I can read into body language. And hers, well...she likes you, Sam. She’s just very subtle about it.”

Hope glimmered in his eyes. “She does? So she doesn’t mind my pickup lines?”

The super-soldier laughed. “As terrible as some of them may be, yeah, she doesn’t. I’ve seen her walk away flustered many times.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re gonna win her over, once and for all,” Natasha declared. “And we’re making sure of that.”

...

“Y/N.”

“Pete.” You glanced over at the teenager, who had stopped furiously scribbling notes down in his notebook, “what’s up?”

“What’s up is you and Sam.”

“What about us?” You quirked an eyebrow. “I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” The boy wrinkled his nose, “I know he likes you, and you like him. So why do you keep pushing him away?”

“Peter-”

“Y/N, I’ve known about this since we first met. So why haven’t you made a move yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s trying his hardest to win you over and you’re refusing to budge! I bet he feels so bad about it.”

“Oh, God, I know...” you rubbed your forehead and let out a long sigh, “I just don’t know how to react.”

“Send a pickup line right back at him! He loves pickup lines, so gauge his reaction on that!”

“Alright...”

"Back to Chemistry! Which you two clearly already have...”

“Queens!”

“Okay, okay!” You both burst into laughter. “Okay!”

The team had all agreed on an outdoor barbecue, so you all gathered outside on the massive rooftop of the compound to eat dinner. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Rhodey were busy flipping the meat, Wanda and Pepper were setting up the refreshments, while the others were lounging around and casually conversing with one another. 

You noticed Sam standing alone by the edge, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared out ahead at the horizon. He seemed to be deep in thought, but as soon as he turned around and saw you approaching him, his face lit up with a grin that the others knew he only had when you were around. 

“Hey,” you offered him a small smile. You felt your heart skip a beat as you locked eyes - the early evening glow only made him look better than he already was. “Penny for your thoughts, Wilson?”

“Are you a magician? ‘Cause when I look at you, everyone else disappears,” he stated.

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” you replied smoothly, taking him by surprise. This was a first --

“Am I dreaming, or did Y/N just send me back a cheesy pickup line?”

“I did,” you laughed lightly, breaking into what he thought was the most beautiful sight on earth - a million-dollar smile. He’d never forget it. “How’s your week been?”

“Uneventful. You?”

Your face fell momentarily, and he felt his heart drop at the same time. “Could’ve been better.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You took in a deep breath before responding. “Fury’s got me leading Team Alpha in a recon down south in the Outer Banks. Then as soon as I get back, I’m called to represent the team at a press conference about disaster relief. After that I’m stuck filing reports for a solid six hours and I end up only eating one meal that day. So yeah...it’s been pretty rough.”

“Did you make up for all that lost sleep, though?”

“A little. Compared to my typical three hours, I’d say 5 is a good enough improvement.”

“Progress is what matters. And you did that,” he nodded. “Look, if you ever need someone to talk to...you know I’m always here, right?”

“Definitely. That doesn’t eliminate our weekly Mario Kart competitions with Bucky, right?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.”

You stood there in silence for who knows how long, until he spoke up again.

“Did you know that when you smile, you can’t breathe?”

“Really?” You looked straight at him and gave him the brightest smile your face could produce. 

“I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you smile.”

At that moment, all the Avengers immediately stopped what they were doing and froze on the spot. 

“I think you broke her,” Peter whispered as he poked you in the shoulder multiple times, and you didn’t move. “That was smoother than butter.”

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish but no words came out, face burning with heat - the butterflies in your stomach had turned to hummingbirds. Since when did he make you feel this way?

“Yup,” Bucky coughed, “she’s definitely in love with him.”

"I’m not in love with him, I love him. I have for a while,” you muttered so quietly that he almost didn’t catch what you said. 

Now, it was Sam’s turn to be left speechless.

[nagdabbit]

so as someone who has never watched GCW or CZW or seen Nick Gage wrestle, but wants to be prepared for what mayhem may come on Dynamite, would I regret buying the Homecoming Day 1?

maybe. if you're not into deathmatch/hardcore wrestling, it might be A Bit Much to start with. also, gcw shows cost cash monies, as you said. for me? absolutely worth it, the card is absolutely stacked. hell, 2 cold scorpio whoopin ass at 55 years old was worth the price of admission. but if you don't know what you're getting yourself into, it might put you off.

i'd suggest starting easy (and free) with some beyond matches on youtube. beyond wrestling is a great promotion, gage's second home after gcw, they always put on fuckin bangers of shows. and they put out a shitton of free matches on youtube!

gage vs g-raver, 50,000 thumbtacks match.

a nice, easy appetizer. a good place to dip your toe into the hardcore shit. (i'd also suggest looking into an iwtv sub and finding the 100,000 thumbtack match from halloween 2019 [? i think? i dont have it open in front of me]. nick gage vs mance warner. heckuva time.)

gage vs addy starr, no dq. we love and support intergender wrestling in this house. if you arent a fan, for personal reasons, skip this one. i get it. if you think it shouldnt exist at all, then we will have words.

anyway, great match. made me fall a little in love with addy, good show all around. (pretty sure that was the same show with chris dickinson vs effy, which isn't related, but i sincerely loved it and recommend that match to anyone who will listen. or, this was the double header with gcw, and that match was on the the show.)

i cant think the gage match will go harder than dr. britt baker d.m.d. vs thunder rosa, or the bunkhouse match, or the first mox vs omega match with the barbed wire web. there *is* a limit to what you can show on cable tv, after all. but if you enjoyed those, there's a good chance you'll end up enjoying homecoming. but, as evidenced above, gage clearly knows what he's doing, too. he can hit whatever level they need him to. hell, go look up ndk (nerder death kill, his tag team with thomas santell--ask me about ndk, i love ndk) matches. he can actually wrestle, too. hell, i like his one winged angel better than kenny's. yeah. i fuckin said it. come at me.

anyway, my point was, its probably not going to end up as violent as we want it to. he can work well within set parameters, ie: tv ratings. he's coming off the b r u t a l match last night. hes been teased for homecoming part 2 tonight. mans gotta be hurting.

but, just in case they let him do his thing, here's a little taste of the true god of this shit.

gage vs shlak. this is, i think, what we're all wanting, expecting, and hoping for for wednesday night. absolute fucking mayhem. blood. lighttubes. pizza cutters to the face. total fucking destruction.

this isn't a full match, but i will always put pro wrestling cinema over. they do good work. but DO search this full match out if you wanna spend money (rspring break from gcw' the collective event over wrestlemania weekend. delightful show). highly recommend. but even just in highlight form, set to dmx songs, this fucks. it remains one of the hardest, bloodiest, most painful--even for me--gage matches i've seen in recent memory, outstanding work. may dmx rest in peace, one of the best there ever was or will be.

if you're enjoying yourself, and you find that you dont mind spending money on the king, i would highly suggest: gage vs effy from the gcw/black lable pro double feature, 2 cups stuffed. im pretty sure the whole show is on iwtv, but it might be a buy from fite (which, if theyre still doing the "download the app and get like 10 bucks of credits," do it. this isn't an ad, but thats basically a free ppv). one of my favorite matches. effy brought it. absolutely insane. a+ would recommend.

also, the gage vs allie kat texas deathmatch which gave the world the best wrestling promo to exist ever.

and also gage vs aj gray from gcw draft day in may. it has everything. mayhem. gage retaining the title (😭 fuck you cardona). aj gray being a baddass. a jon moxley run in. ron funches on comentary. great time all around.

i may have gotten distracted a lot because i havent had coffee yet, but i just love nick gage, y'all.

[nate-the-content-creator]

MJF did not look happy as he stood in the middle of the arena. He had suffered several setbacks leading up to his match between himself with the Pinnacle and the DOJ. If getting the tar beaten out of him by Darby Allen wasn’t embarrassing enough, Maxwell had failed to reclaim the AEW Dynamite Diamond, which was still in the possession of Asuka Hyoudou-Rhodes. Oh and let’s not even getting started about all the times he had failed in getting possession of the AEW Heavyweight title from Jackson Corvus.

The frown on MJF’s face was so deep, that it looked as though it was going to be permanently stuck there. And then there was the crowd practically shouting itself hoarse with ‘you suck’ chants. MJF was about to open his mouth, to yell at the crowd to shut up, when there was the sound of a familiar riff of an electric guitar. The fans started to boo, until they saw the dragon skull appear on the titantron. Those boo’s then became loud screaming cheers moments later. 

“SUPERKICK PARTAAAAAAAAAAY!!!” 

The crowd was practically yelling itself hoarse, and MJF sent Wardlow out of the ring, to try to intercept the Dragon Club. The problem was, that they didn’t come through the right tunnel. And when the music died down, there was a rather cocky smile on the face of the salt of the earth ... which was quickly wiped off of his face as he turned around, to run straight into three superkicks. The Dragon Club consisting of Io Murrassame, Viktor Rasputin-Corvus, and Asuka Hyoudou-Rhodes, had pulled a fast one one MJF, and came through the crowd.

The three of them then delivered a triple superkick to Wardlow when he tried to run in and pull his butt buddy out of trouble. 

“This thing on...?” Viktor had grabbed the microphone that had flown out of MJF’s hand when he’d been superkicked into the next zip-code. He tapped the top with his left hand, smiling when he heard those taps echo on the arena speakers. Then, taking a page out of his father’s book, Viktor sat cross-legged in the center of the ring. “Max, as you lay there ... hopefully as uncomfortable as you possibly can be. I want you to listen to this. I want you to digest, because before you and your little circle-jerk of butt buddies get your collective asses handed to you in ten days time, you’ve got one more thing to worry about. See, me and the Dragon Club may be a trios tag-team, but I’m one obligated match behind. What that means, is that I’ve got one more match to get in before the winter semester break-don’t get ahead of me here..” Viktor smiled at the crowd who had jumped to the conclusion.

“See Max, I’m not your biggest fan. Especially because you think that you’re the best. You’re not. I’m the best. I’m the best in the world. In this ring, on this mic, even on commentary, noone can touch me! And you’re gonna find that out the hard way. See, before we came out here, I had a talk with your boss. And Mr. Khan just made the match for the final Adrenaline broadcast of the semester. In seven days, it’s MJF against Viktor Rasputin-Corvus ... in an electic collar deathmatch! And Max, I can assure you, that when you lose, the last thing that goes through your mind before the collar shocks you into unconsciousness is that I’m better than you, and you know it!”

[milstrim]

There is Good in the Dark

Chapter 3--The Crack in the Truth

The night was eerily bright, the streets of New York City shining with the harsh yellow of apartment lights and buildings and bright, obnoxious billboards. As always, the City that Never Sleeps was alive with the honking of passersby, the sirens of harried police cars, and the whooshing of large metal wings.

The man steering the wings thumbed a flash drive clutched in his hand importantly, sticking close to the shadows. He was clearly in a hurry, his eyes darting for the nearest way out of the city without alerting the Squadron Supreme. Don't get him wrong, Sam Wilson was no coward, but he knew how to pick his battles, and fighting an entire team of heroes by himself was something he was smart enough to avoid. At least until he could get the information he'd taken from the FBI out of the city and to the admittedly shady company that had hired him across the country. Thankfully, he'd managed to not trip any alarm or even be noticed.

A red laser burst in a straight line in front of the Falcon, who spread his wings forward and forced himself upwards in a strange spiral to avoid the blast of heat he could feel hot against his skin even a few feet away. His goggles scanned the street in front of him, but he didn't need them to spot the bulky red and gold figure standing straight, arms crossed, on the building across the street. The red glow in his eyes had yet to recede, a triumphant smirk plastered to his face.

"Falcon," boomed Hyperion. He flew over, still standing straight and moving across the sky effortlessly. "You are under arrest."

Sam hesitated, glancing around. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the other figure hiding in the shadows. Only one more. "Hurts to know I don't get the whole entourage. And weren't you supposed to go after Stark first?"

"They're dealing with him as we speak, so don't go calling for help," Hyperion said, coming closer. Sam lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Like he would call Stark for help.

"Noted. So we're going with the regular gig, hands in the air and all that?"

"New orders, Wilson. We're not just taking criminals in anymore."

Sam barely managed to dodge out of the way as Hyperion burst forward in a blurry red flash. The hero crashed into the wall that Sam had been hovering in front of barely a moment before, the building trembled underneath the alien's force. Without a second thought, Sam zoomed off, searching desperately for an escape as the red and gold figure refocused its attention on him, accompanied by a shiny green blur on that stupid fucking hoverboard.

""Hands in the air, Falcon!" would've been enough!!" Sam yelled, thundering through the streets. Sam was fast, but Hyperion was faster. Barely a minute zipping through the air and there was a heavy resistance. A tug on his wing, yanking powerfully.

The metal snapped and suddenly Sam was plundering, twisting and spinning in the air. He tried to right himself as he approached the ground, but the wing still attached to him encumbered his success. Even as he reached up to snap it off he knew it was a lost cause, the ground was so close and the air so cold with fear he was--

Sam let out a strangled yelp, his face only feet from the rough pavement. His breaths were quick and panicked, but he swallowed the fear down, instead twisting his head to see what had stopped him from splatting into a puddle against the ground. He'd been expecting Hyperion or Osborn to grab him--perhaps this had been a fake-out and he was just going to a SHIELD prison--but instead he was met with weirdly familiar narrowed eyes and a chipper attitude.

He groaned, "Not you."

"Yes, me!" the kid responded. Spider-Man began to swing, Sam along for the ride as he was pulled along by the leg. He was about to protest, but saw the growling expressions of the two heroes that had tried to kill him and thought better of it.

Instead, he asked, "Have you got a plan for them, hotshot?"

"Yep."

"Mind clueing me in?"

"Nah."

"Real helpful there, thank you," Sam said drily.

"No problem, dude." Spider-Man swung higher, steadily growing height, but Sam didn't think he'd get away quick enough. Hyperion was zooming forward in a bright blur, and Sam twisted, sure that they were about to be hit by the approaching figure--

A silver blur collided with the red one barreling towards them. The two zipped off to the side, the silver figure overtaking the red one and managing to slam them into the nearest building. Sam's eyes narrowed as he identified the figure. Spider-Man didn't slow down as Iron Man and Hyperion slammed into each other, just continued swinging higher. Sam looked away from the hero and villain to glance up at the kid carrying him.

"Where the hell are we going!?" he yelled up, frantic.

"Here!!"

Spider-Man looped one last time into the sky in a great arc. There was nothing that indicated what the villain was talking about, and then there was a gap in the sky. Sam's eyes widened before squeezing shut in anticipation as they dove through, landing heavily on the inside of a plane. An invisible plane. Of course Stark had an invisible plane.

"Thank you so much for dropping in, Mr. Wilson," greeted a cocky voice as Sam stood up, brushing himself off. He looked at the pilot's seat in confusion, glancing down at where the hangar had closed, hiding the silver suit from view. Stark stood up out of the seat, stepping over to him with a confident grin. "Oh, that wasn't me in the suit. It'll break itself apart in about three, two, and one--and I bet Hyperion's really angry about that right about now."

"What's your game, Stark?"

"Game? Why does it have to be a game?"

"Because I feel like I've died and gone to pompous jerk land."

"Is that any way to talk to your new partners in crime?" Spider-Man popped up. Sam raised an eyebrow.

    Clint stalked forward in the shadows, his feet crunching softly against the gravel. He moved onto the softer grass the moment he could, keeping his bow angled downwards as he approached the nondescript building. A smirk grew on the archer's face as he stepped through the door, raising his bow in anticipation and then lowering it when there was nothing to be found.

"Bingo," the runaway grinned, catching sight of a weapon hung on the wall.

The core of it glowed with the promise of power. The lead he'd gotten--from a SHIELD agent just an hour ago who'd bargained the information for her life--had promised of a powerful, alien powered gun. It was supposed to neutralize unaware alien Hyperion and annoyingly otherworldly Mysterio, and after the jackass' promise on the news just last night he was anxious to get his hands on it. At the very least, it'd give him some time to escape whenever the team of heroes came after him.

Clint retracted his bow, placing it on his back and reaching up with hesitant hands for the firearm. Just as his fingers glanced with the cool metal, there was movement reflected in his glasses. His eyes narrowed and, quicker than a shot, he swerved around and drew his bow in one fluid motion, pointing it at the woman just feet from him.

"Well, if it isn't the Itsy Bitsy Spider."

"How are you, Tweety Bird?" Romanoff responded, her arm outstretched threateningly, the gauntlets on her wrist crackling with electricity.

"So? Deathmatch for the weapon?"

Romanoff responded the way she usually did, with a shot. Clint barely dodged out of the way, tucking and rolling. He carried the momentum and shot an arrow that whizzed from his bow fluidly. Romanoff shot her own burst of electricity at it, combatting the arrow and forcing it to stop and drop midair. The weapon now equal distance between them, they glanced at the firearm, each other, the firearm again--they both made a grab for it.

Romanoff tugged it off of the wall before he did, positioning it in her arms, ready to shoot even as Clint drew back an explosive arrow, when the weapons crumpled in her arms. Caught off guard, the woman glanced down at the broken metal pieces, the powerful core dimming to nothingness.

"What is this?" Clint asked at the same moment Natasha muttered, "A setup?"

Before they could do anything, there was a tearing noise above them, the ceiling screeching and screaming. Clint and Natasha glared up as a piece of the metal roof cut, a copper blade poking through, before being peeled back and revealing gleaming green eyes and a cocky, vile grin. Natasha's arm outstretched at the approaching figure, their hooked tail clinging onto the ceiling as they prepared to dip down.

"A fake weapon to draw us out, huh?" Clint asked.

"Worked like a charm," laughed the Scorpion. Mac Gargan, Clint's brain supplied. "Bullseye said you'd be stupid enough for this, Barton, but I'm surprised at you, Romanoff."

"Yeah? I'm surprised you were dumb enough to come out here all by yourself," Romanoff dared, tensing ever so slightly.

"To take down two unpowered outcasts?" Gargan grinned. His tail crackled with red electricity, his foot stepped over the side of the hole he'd carved into the side. "I'm sure I can handle you--"

Clint held back a flinch as a dark blur, really only visible by the blue glow on the chest, cut across the copper hero. The man was swept aside in a thundering force, out of view of the two spies left confused and waiting beneath the makeshift skylight. Hesitantly, Clint exchanged a glance with Natasha, raising his brow in confusion at the yells of annoyance and anger above them.

Barely twenty, very awkward seconds later, a head popped over the side. Clint groaned immediately, dropping his bow and reaching for his hearing aid as he recognized the young villain. As his hand grazed against the device in his ear, vying to turn it off, there was a quick thwip! and his hand was pulled away from his face with an indignant, "Hey! I just saved your asses!"

"You don't think we could have taken that jackass?" Clint dared.

"Definitely not you."

"Excuse me--"

"Shut up," Natasha ordered. Clint glanced at her in annoyance but otherwise did as told. "What are you here for, Spider-Man? The weapon?"

"You," the kid answered simply. "C'mon. Pincer here's all tied up and the jet's gonna pick us up in two minutes."

"What? Did Stark drop you off to get your ass kicked by the two of us?" Clint teased.

"Other way around. He's getting two more."

Clint glanced at Natasha. She looked up at Spider-Man and said, "Two more what?"

     Tony was both relieved and annoyed that he'd ended up with the two meatheads. Part of him thought it would've been better for him to take care of the two spies while Peter got the people more around his strength levels, and the other part of him knew that the moment the kid saw Thor he would drop everything and beg the god to take him to Asgard. The kid would need close supervision if he was ever going to be around the Asgardian.

So, that led the man to where he was now. Hovering, a hundred feet in the air, as thunder rolled across the sky in swirling roves and the ground splintered and cracked, an alien and a beast wrestling below. Iron Man barely dodged out of the way as a lightning strike beat down a few feet away from him. He glanced back over at where the two had broken apart, desert dust rattling around them in their wake.

Seizing the lull, he dove down, planting down firmly between the two and extending his palms in either direction of the villains. Hulk growled and frowned, but Thor smiled and chuckled, the electricity crackling in his eyes fading but his eyes remaining just as light a blue.

"Stark!" the Asgardian called out, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Relax, blondie," he responded. Hulk sniffed. "You too, Green Bean. I've got a proposition, a little information. Just follow me and I'll explain."

"How do I know this isn't an offer, Man of Iron? Or a plot to distract me from beating the Hulk. Once again. I win all the time."

"No you don't!!" Hulk practically roared. Tony closed his eyes, able to practically feel the yell from even where he stood, feet away.

"It has to do with the Squadron Supreme, and taking them down." Despite their well known rival, Tony could see Thor and Hulk exchanging doubtful glances. He sighed. "And I've got a lot of snacks--look can you just get on the plane?"

"What kind of snacks?" Hulk asked.

"Whatever the hell you want. Plane. Now."

It worked. Eventually.

     Peter leaned lazily against the back of the pilot chair, eyes roaming over the plane full of villains in carefully concealed apprehension. He didn't understand how Tony, who'd left Friday to pilot the reflective jet, looked so at ease. The suit remained stationary as Tony paraded around the room, somehow confident enough to leave himself practically defenseless. There was a pleased grin on his face even as the Black Widow scowled at him.

Despite the teenager's desperation to meet Thor, and his assurance in his own abilities, he still found himself tense. At first he'd thought it was fear at being in such an enclosed space with people whose kill counts ran higher than the number of kids that had gone to Midtown High. Wait--Midtown High? Spider-Man's eyes narrowed in confusion. He didn't go to high school. He'd learned basic math and reading when he'd been trapped in SHIELD and Tony had taught him the rest, but the name was eerily familiar.

Familiar. That was the strange word that Peter felt could describe the atmosphere in the room. After about ten minutes flying, the boy had come to realize that fear hadn't been what had been making him tense. It was unrecognizable recognition. It made the hair on his arms raise and the back of his head rattle with suspicion. With wrongness. Yet, despite the odd comfort of the world's most wanted all individually mingling in an invisible jet, something was missing.

Peter thought that this was what Tony would define as an 'itch.'

After a few more minutes of tense silence, Barton spoke up from where he was twirling an arrow between his fingers. "Alright, enough already. Where are we going, Stark?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Tony grinned. He gestured to the front of the jet, where Peter was standing, and out the window. The teenager turned as his dad instructed. "Go ahead and take a look outside the window and look for yourself."

The villains moved to huddle in a loose circle around the front of the jet. Peter stepped aside as Tony came up with them, plopping back down in the pilot's seat. There were pursed lips and squinted eyes as gazes peered out the glass.

"Is that--?" Wilson asked, screwing his eyes in an effort to make out what even Peter was having trouble distinguishing. Thankfully, the teenager's mask managed to pick it out of the sky for him.

"I do not understand, Stark," Thor said. "Why is the sky acting up? And where is our destination?"

And then the endless blue was interrupted by a shimmering ripple. Peter's eyes widened as he took in the Helicarrier, shining and silver with the Stark logo branded to the side. Peter blinked, a sliver of an unconstructed backstory. There was a swirl of copper, swimming, practically fighting for life to not be drowned in the pool of eerie light. A face flashed across his memories, kind and familiar. A hurtful scrap of grief and love.

"Welcome," Tony announced, "to our new headquarters."

The swirl of copper was overwhelmed by a blue sea of lies. The face and the memory of it were gone, leaving the teenager nothing but the underwhelming feeling of confused and unknowing grief. A crack he didn't understand. Peter blinked, refraining from shaking his head as he stared out at what the other villains were watching curiously.

"Our?" Romanoff asked.

The Quinjet turned gracefully in the air, planting itself onto the no longer cloaked Helicarrier, the hull of the smaller ship opening to allow the villains to exit onto the platform. Nobody moved just yet as Tony stepped out of his chair like nothing even mildly important was going on. In contrast, a shiver ran up his spine.

"If you choose to accept."

Hulk grunted in annoyance, practically throwing himself out the plane, awfully restrained from killing everyone for throwing him around a plane. Everyone followed. Peter stayed as close to Tony as he could justify as he stepped off of the plane with him as well as trying to figure out what was setting off his senses. He peered around the flat and empty surface of the Helicarrier, but found nothing.

"What exactly are we supposed to be accepting?" Sam asked gruffly.

"Yes," Thor agreed. "You have dragged us through the extent of the Nine Realms and back without so much as the simplest of explanations, Stark."

"That's what we're here for. I thought you'd like to see what we're working with, and since the Squadron ordered hits on all of us, I felt like New York was out of the question. For a little bit, at least."

There was debating silence. Barton gruffed, "Y'know, he's got a point."

"Of course I do," Tony said, leading them to the nearest building where a door slid open for them. "Now just follow me. We'll need proper space for what I want to explain."

Peter looked at Tony questioningly. His dad had given him the barest of explanations as he'd told him they were collecting everyone else the Squadron had ordered a hit on--save for the Captain, who he'd just said would be here soon enough. How, Peter didn't know. Not that he was particularly excited, but he couldn't deny he was nervous. This all felt like so much. He liked it when it was just him and Tony.

Tony gave him a reassuring glance back, but said nothing. Peter straightened, mentally noted that his mask was still snugly slipped over his face, and followed.

Another copper swirl.

     Tony watched with critical eyes as the assholes he'd collected milled around the table in the middle of the room, clearly still wondering what this was all about. Peter was doing the same, and though he was wearing a mask, Tony could tell the teenager was continuously glancing at him for answers and reassurance. He'd been trying his best to give the kid something to grasp onto, but with everyone else--well, almost everyone else--all around, there wasn't anything he could do but just start.

The villain waved his hand over the table, which burst into bright blue light under his ghost of a touch. The recording of red and broken reality burst up in front of everyone. All eyes, confused and interested and flashing with guarded emotions, turned to look at what had appeared in front of them.

"Ever had an itch you just can't scratch?" Tony started. Hulk nodded and he had to keep back a smile of amusement. "I had a crack at Mysterio's stone. That was what came out."

"Do I really look like that when I smile?" Barton joked. "Remind me to never do that."

"Done," Romanoff said. Barton sent her an annoyed look.

"So what?" the archer shrugged, unbothered by the video playing on repeat in front of them. "So, the wizard's stone created a vision to another world. Or a mass hallucination or something. Why does it matter?"

"Because it did make a mass hallucination, and we're living in it," Tony said. There were blinks all around, confused and incredulous. Even Peter, who had been endlessly supportive and backing him up without question, gave him an odd look, one eye of his mask narrowing in bewilderment. Still, he pressed on, confidence in only half of his words. Everything had felt so wrong for so long now, and maybe this was it. Or part of it. "This crack is the truth. What if we were once a team of villains so strong, the Squadron tried to wipe us from reality?"

There were glances all around.

"This is crazy talk, Stark," Natasha said.

"How so?" he challenged. Peter--Bless him--chimed in.

"Yeah! We're standing in a room with a ball of green radiation and a Norse god from legend. Mysterio's a sorcerer from another world, who says he can't change bits of reality?"

"But, us. Be a team," Wilson said. "None of us even know the word. And for us to not remember any of it?"

"Don't you think everything's been a little odd?" Tony countered, because it had been. It had been mind-bogglingly strange and unsettling. Something was missing, and it kept him awake at night, making him feel incomplete. Sometimes Tony would say things or do things--corny lines and dumb decisions like sending robots to destroy the city on nothing but an incomplete whim--that he didn't mean to do. They'd just come out like--like someone had put them there.

And that wasn't the only thing. His little mansion hideout in New York, and even this one buried in the ravine of the Arizona desert, they weren't him. They weren't a place that would be considered home, with blinding white halls and bright blue lights that burned at his eyes and left him nowhere nice to just be Tony. The only place that was even relatively homey in his home, was Peter.

Peter was the only thing that had felt right for weeks, and even then...

The way that Peter would light up a room and tear a smile from his face with an overwhelming wave of fondness, homey dinners had in his cold lab, tussling a hair through his hair in passing--that was definitely real, but the circumstances were wrong. Tony didn't know for how long that he'd felt this way, but more often than not the supervillain would stop in his tracks with the notion that he needed to pick Peter up from school (even though the kid didn't go to school), or chaperone a movie night on a worn leather couch that he didn't possess. Or that there was a hand he was supposed to hold, two arms slung over his kid's shoulder. A half that was missing during the night...

Tony mentally shook his head, forcefully rattling the missing thoughts from his head, to change and examine the room. Surprisingly, he found himself reflected in their eyes, all so startlingly blue. The same confused, far off look that indicated something was missing.

As Tony came to, Sam cleared as well, shaking his head and staring directly at him. There was a guarded understanding reflected back at him darkly. Tony cleared his throat and said, "Only one way to find out. Get that stone from Spectrum. Who's in?"

Barton started, "You want us to attack the Squadron, because you have a warm and fuzzy feeling we were once teammates?"

"Yep."

"Sorry. I'm out," he snapped.

"Are you joining?" Thor asked, pointing his hammer at the Hulk. He shook his head with a grumbled, "No." Thor turned back to Tony with a bright smile. "Then count me in."

Peter practically vibrated next to him, and it was all he could do not to roll his eyes at the kid. "We've got one. Who else?"

Sam spoke up, considerate and sarcastic all at once. "So things are a little odd, what's your plan?"

"Well, we need all of us here, first of all," he responded, nodding his head at where the video of the Captain stood in horribly bright colors, defiance clear in the fractions of his face.

"The Captain?" Clint laughed. Even Hulk's lips curled in amusement. "Good luck with that. No one's ever seen him, and he definitely wouldn't leave whatever the hell he's doing to come to this shithole of a meeting."

"Let's find out."

Tony raised his gauntlet, pointing it directly at Sam and letting the repulsor whine. Immediately an arrow from Barton was raised towards Peter in response, threatening. Everything went by so fast. Sam yelled in indignation, Barton grumbled out a panicked warning, Peter held out an arm, flinching backwards as he prepared for a fight all while the repulsor grew and then shot--

There was a shwing! and a glint and a gruff statement of pain that pushed against his armored chest, forcing him to stumble back in response. Tony's heart was beating wildly as the sharply bright red and black swung back to the shadows of the door. The room was baited breath as a boot stepped out of the shadows, followed by icy blue and sunny blond.

Tony stared at the Captain as if a rip had been sewn back together.

// Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 //

[doodlingstuff]

Neil’s (fake) B-day

Let’s celebrate my boy’s birthday with some fluff :)

All likes, shares, kudos and comments make my day shine. Thanks for reading ❤

***

( Chapter 14 of Comeback)

Andrew was definitely allowing himself to get carried away by Neil’s joy, otherwise, there is no logical explanation as to why he is driving the pipe dream towards the stadium instead of Fox Tower after he got Abby’s clearance to get back to classes. They could be using each other time’s in more pleasant ways, but then again, Neil loves his newfound family and all their nonsense. And Andrew is no one to take that away from him. Even less after everyone thought they’d lost him for good. Twice.  

Matt’s massive truck and Allison’s hideous atrocity are already there when they arrive. Neil is still too unsteady to walk that much from the parking lot to the court on his own, and he is too stubborn to use any walking aid, but Andrew has proved his talent as a reliable walking stick, so he lets the striker hold to his arm and squeeze it all the way.  

As Andrew knew beforehand, the lounge is covered with streamers, balloons, confetti, and an enormous Happy Birthday sign.  

Every Fox approaches Neil with a big smile. Some dare to pat him on the shoulder and Matt ruffles his hair. Almost everyone gives him presents and of course, the boy looks lost. He turns to see Andrew, but it wasn’t his idea, so he won’t make it easy, although there is the faint ghost of a smile trying to break free as Neil gets more and more confused.  

 “Happy birthday kid.” Coach is the last one to approach and the striker finally finds it in him to talk.  

 “Thank you? It’s-It’s not my birthday, tho”

  His comment is received by a well-deserved couple of pairs of eye rolls.  

 “Some things never change, do they?” Aaron asks. Her cheerleader shushes him with an elbow on the ribs. Maybe Andrew doesn’t hate the woman that much after all.  

 “Sweet baby, don’t tell me you forgot your own birthday,” Nicky says.  

 “It’s March 31, Neil! We promised you a party!” Matt follows with one of his brightest smiles.  

 The auburn-haired turns to look at Andrew as if he’d had any part in that. He was only the driver and his attention is drifting away from the happy reunion as he eyes the big cake on the back. That may be worth the bother.  

 “Told you my birthday was in January,” Neil says, clearly uncomfortable.  

 “And you were getting killed then.” Allison goes on. “You deserve a birthday party. Even if it’s not your real birthday.”  

 “But-”  

 “Lookit this way,” Nicky interrupts. “You get to celebrate twice every year. Sounds like a dream.”  

 Neil looks like he wants to keep arguing, but  Wymack   steps in before. “Shut the fuck up before I get sick. These morons made you a party. Enjoy it and stop looking like a stray cat for once.”  

 The next argument in Neil’s tongue dies as everyone starts to roll food around. They are smart enough to restrain themselves from singing and the cake finally arrives. Since the junkie is happy talking to everyone and watching wide-eyed all his presents, Andrew can distract himself by seeing how many slices of birthday cake he can eat before getting sick of it. As if that was possible. It’s easier for Kevin to die from diabetes just by watching.  

 "Alright. Time to get serious.”  Wymack   is clapping to get everyone’s attention after they all are stuffed and ready to pass out. It takes almost fifteen minutes for the team to clear their heads and gather in the sofas around their Coach.  

 “As you know, we are too far away to have a normal championship, but after how things unfurled for the Ravens,” He spares a brief glance towards Andrew that the twin dismisses “They decided to get them back to their original district. That said, championships will be only a single round of deathmatches to be played on the same day. Winner teams will be qualified by points scored. The two best go directly for the championship and the rest can wait until next season.”  

 “I still don’t know which team we will be facing but from now I tell you that for once, it doesn’t matter the score. This year had brought a shitload of problems I hope I never have to face again, but we made it to this round, so  let's   take the chance as best as we can and keep showing we are not a joke anymore.  

 Wymack   is faster to keep talking before his shortest striker speaks “As for you Neil, don’t even expect to play more than five minutes. You are allowed back to practices, but I will strangle you myself if you pull another fucking stunt in the court. Depending on how you do and in the remote chance we pass, I might think about letting you play the full final match. Doubts?”  

 Everyone shook their heads or deny. Andrew can’t take the perspective of getting back to practices, but Neil is radiating energy only with the perspective of five minutes on a match, so he abstains from complaining as Kevin starts talking endlessly about every single plan and strategy he’s plotted during the past months.  

 Andrew can’t wait to get out of there, but if Neil is happy, he can stay a bit longer.  

 Campus is swollen by darkness when they get out of the gathering. Nicky spends the short ride speaking, as he always does, and Kevin is making a tantrum from traveling in the back. Andrew can’t care less. If he doesn’t like it, he can walk to Fox Tower or catch a ride with the rest.  

 When they arrive at the building, Andrew takes Neil’s duffel bag and motions towards the elevator. The junkie is about to protest, but he is finally learning to tell when he’s tired and the night hasn’t ended for them, so he steps into the elevator.  

 Andrew has the door of the dorm open for Neil. They step in and the blond makes way to the bedroom. He dumps the duffel bag on the bed and looks for the things he stuffed in there before heading out.  

 “Wait.” There it goes. The cogwheels inside the junkie’s brain finally move. Nicky and Aaron pause their silly game to see “This is not my dorm.”  

 “It is now.” Neil looks for the lie in Andrew’s eyes and then he sees Nicky laughing as bills pass between him, the other twin, and even Kevin.  

 “You are such a cute thing. Andrew kicked Aaron out as soon he knew you weren’t dying.”  

 Neil  looks   startled from Nicky’s gigantic smile to Andrew’s shrug. They had shared enough nightmares and had slept together so many times for it to be a scandal, but it was until then when the blond realizes he didn’t ask. He just acted out of spite because he wanted to have Neil close.  

 A big smile spreads on the striker’s face and then he follows Andrew to the roof.  

 After three cigarettes, Andrew still can’t find how to get this over with. They had talked about bigger demons before. They had  shared   more intimacy. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Still, his voice is almost scared when he talks.  

 “Enjoyed your party?”  

 Icy eyes send a wave of shivers down his spine. “I guess. I’ve never had one.”  

 “And you won’t ask me why I didn’t get you a present?”  

 “Do you want me to? I don’t need presents. And you had given me much more.”  

 “Then shut up.” He says and finally drops the contents of his pocket in Neil’s hands.  

 Minutes pass before the striker can talk again. “My phone and keys.”  

 “You left them on purpose.” There is a hard swallow traveling down Neil’s throat.  

 “Told you I never thought I’ll stay. And... I couldn’t be Neil Josten in the Nest. If I took these, they would’ve been more reminders of the life I couldn’t have anymore.”  

 “You have it now.” The official IDs sent by Kengo are still unbelievable to Neil. He nods as he grips the objects in his hands. The proofs that he is real, that he didn’t come out from Andrew’s drugged mind and he will stay. Probably.  

 “And this is your present.” The blond drops a packet of cigarettes in Neil’s lap. He looks bewildered and attempts to give them back.  

 “Abby says I shouldn’t smoke again.”  

 There is no point in explaining things to the pretty idiot, so Andrew settles for looking at him until he opens the damn box and takes out a couple of pieces of cloth.  

 “You want me to sew your socks?”  

 “Don’t be stupid,” Andrew replies while pulling up his sleeves. Maybe Neil can get the hint that way.  

 “Armbands?”  

 “It’s already hot as fucking hell and you keep wearing long sleeves.”  

 Realization crosses fast through his face. If the junkie thought Andrew wouldn’t notice he didn’t want the scars on his wrists on display, he was even dumber than how he looked.  

 “Thank you,” The red-haired says while slipping the pieces of cloth through his hands.  

 Words are burning Andrew’s throat worse than the smoke of his sixth cigarette. He doesn’t want a      no    , but he knows he won’t be in peace if he doesn’t ask. “Will you stay now?”  

 “I haven’t gone anywhere.”  

 The blond only spares a glance at Neil. He doesn’t want to explain. However, as silence stretches, he knows he needs to make sure the point is understood just in case Neil is indeed stupid or Andrew hasn’t been clear enough.  

 “Last year I told you to give me your back and stay. You ran away and did the exact opposite. You’re not in danger anymore. The promise stands. I’m just asking again.”  

 A wild river clashes with sweet honey. For the first time in a long, long while, Andrew can’t tell what hiding those eyes are hiding. He is the one with the blank expression, not Neil. Silence keeps growing between them. The blond is sure he talked too soon. He is expecting the dream to vanish because it has been a big strike of consecutive good weeks and nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t forget that.  

 “Your memory isn’t so perfect after all.” Andrew is startled by the comment. Of course, it is. A fucking burden he never asked to have. A good thing when it comes to Neil and the bright  smiles   he gives. The twin starts digging if he had any other slips like the room swap without asking first, but he can’t find any. “I said yes. Always yes.”  

 “It was a different question.” Relief spreads as he speaks.  

 “But the answer is always yes.” The blank stare is quickly replaced by a big smile.  

 Andrew knows he has to tell him that always can’t be his answer for everything, that there will be times when it’s no, that he will respect any change of mind, that he doesn’t want to force it, that he is afraid everything is still an illusion, but Neil is so close and he has talked so much, that the only thing he manages is a soft growl as the striker´s lips are near his neck, and then, every objection gets drowned in a kiss.  

“One condition,” Neil says when they part. “You don’t protect me. We protect each other.”  

Every complaint dies even before Andrew can voice it because it is true.

Before Neil said it, he gave his life willingly for Andrew, and the blond had turned the world upside down in a week to keep the pipe dream safe. The promise was fulfilled before it was made.  

Regardless, it’s the first time someone says to him anything like that, and it fills his chest with something so powerful and strange that he isn’t sure if his life is really this good. Perhaps he died in juvie, or in Thanksgiving, or in Easthaven, and this is all a weird fantasy created to bear the boredom of being in hell.  

When they return to the dorms, neither asks before getting inside the same bed to fall asleep with their fingers intertwined.  

 If always feels like this, Andrew can get used to having it.  

[iamrealbuilder]

Bill Buchalter interview

Bill Buchalter was a level designer for Sunstorm Interactive. He’s worked on 3 official add-on of Build Engine games: Cryptic Passage for Blood, Suckin’ Grits On Route 66 for Redneck Rampage, Caribbean Life for Duke Nukem 3D. Interview, November 2020: Corentin: Can you introduce yourself?

Bill Buchalter: My name is Bill Buchalter. I’m an avid gamer of all kinds – video games, board games, and especially tabletop RPGs. I’m currently a freelance writer for AAW Games (Adventure A Week Games) writing mini adventures for Dungeons & Dragons 5E. I live outside Indianapolis, IN with my wife Jane, our three kids, and our dog Roxi. When I’m not gaming, I also enjoy music, playing guitar, hiking, and camping.

C: With Sunstorm Interactive, you're credited for level design on Cryptic Passage, Caribbean Life and Route 66. How did you start working with Sunstorm and what do you remember from that time?

BB: In the mid 90’s, maybe around 1995 or 96, I was very into playing Duke Nukem 3D. Like most PC gamers at the time, I had played Castle Wolfenstein and Doom, and Duke Nukem just blew me away. Back in those days, when we played online, we would use a 3rd party program called KALI. You dialed up on your modem, logged onto the internet, and then used KALI as a portal to chat with other gamers and find someone to play with. The KALI software would then allow you to network together over the internet and play PVP matches. It was crude, and the lag could be horrible, but we didn’t know any better at the time and we loved it!

I remember I was in a B. Dalton bookstore in the mall one day (another relic of the 90’s that is long gone!) when I found a book called the “Duke Nukem 3D Level Design Handbook”. I was intrigued, and as I flipped through the pages it talked about a program on the Duke Nukem CD called Build, which allowed you to create your own levels. I had no idea Build existed, let alone how to use it. I bought the book and spent the next couple weeks diving into learning how to use Build. I was hooked!

Making my own maps quickly became an obsession. I would share them with my friends on KALI and I quickly earned a reputation for making user maps. I remember there was a map building competition, but I don’t recall who sponsored it. A guy named Robert Travis won the competition. When I saw his maps, I was blown away! His designs were so much more advanced than mine. He was using tricks I had never thought of to get lighting effects and set moods. I had to reach out to him to pick his brain.

Robert responded and we began talking and quickly figured out that we both lived in Indianapolis. He was working for Sunstorm at the time and invited me to come to their office to discuss level design. I met him there one evening, and he showed me some of the stuff he was working on. We ended up playing Duke all night on Sunstorm’s network with some of the other guys in the office. I was in heaven!

Robert introduced me to Anthony Campiti, the lead producer on Sunstorm’s next project – Cryptic Passage, an add-on for a Build engine game called Blood. They invited me to design some levels for the game and I jumped at the chance. Robert assigned me to design an opera house level and immediately I got pictures in my head of the theater scenes from Interview with a Vampire. I went home and worked furiously on designing the level. I was still rough, but with Robert’s help I tweaked things here and there and slowly learned his techniques. In the end I was really pleased with the level I’d designed. Robert and Anthony were happy too and asked me to design a second map specifically for deathmatch.

The next project Sunstorm was working on was Suckin’ Grits on Route 66, an add-on for another Build engine game called Redneck Rampage. Robert again asked if I’d like to be a part of that team and assigned me to build a truck stop level. Using a lot of the things I’d learned on Cryptic Passage, and the campy feel of the Redneck Rampage game, I had a lot of fun designing that level.

The last project I worked on for Sunstorm was Duke Nukem Caribbean Vacation. By this time Duke’s popularity was beginning to wane, and Quake was taking over. Robert was already starting to experiment and learn how to use the Quake engine. I was a new dad at the time (my first daughter had just been born) so unfortunately, I didn’t have the spare time to devote to learning a new engine. I barely had the time to design my level for Duke Caribbean, but I did manage to finish the casino level for that project. I do recall that Robert ended up going through in the end and changing a lot of the aspects of my level to fit the theme they had in mind. I remember being a bit disappointed and not really feeling like the level was “mine” because of so many of the changes. It was the last project I worked on for Sunstorm.

I kept in touch with Robert and Anthony for a while after that. They were branching out, working on other projects, and even trying to develop their own FPS game that I don’t think ever really got off the ground. Sunstorm was having the most success with their Deer Hunter line of games that at the time were selling well in Wal-Mart. Sadly, I eventually just lost touch with those guys.

I’m sure this is WAY more information than you were wanting (I’m a writer… I can’t help but go off the deep end!) but you dusted off some fond, old memories for me, so I apologize for walking so far down memory lane!

C: I see that you're still making maps, different kind of maps! This makes me wonder if maybe you were involved with W!Zone (a pack of maps for Warcraft 2 released by Sunstorm). Can you tell us a bit about that if possible?

BB: I didn’t have any hand in the W!Zone project for Sunstorm, but I loved the Warcraft series. As was common for many video gamers like me, who had roots in fantasy games like D&D, I played a lot of Warcraft and eventually got sucked into the world of MMOs with Ultima Online, Everquest, and World of Warcraft! If only I had back the time I sunk into those games!

These days I’m exclusively writing and designing for Dungeons and Dragons. I started about ten years ago writing for D&D Organized Play in a campaign called Living Forgotten Realms. I co-authored two adventures for that with my good friend, Michael Pearman, and authored a third adventure on my own. As you know from tracking me down via AAW Games, I’ve now authored six adventures for them, five of which are already published and one that is still in the works but should be released soon.

When I do manage to find time for video games, Diablo III is my game of choice these days. I’m looking forward to Season 22 starting here shortly, and like many others, I’m really hoping for something great with Diablo IV. I’ve been a huge fan of the series since the beginning, and even wrote an entire campaign for D&D 5E that translated the story of Diablo III into Dungeons and Dragons for the players in my home game! Thanks again for the opportunity to share some of this history. It was fun putting it all down and reliving those days!

C: There are two signatures in the Truck Stop level for Route 66. Do you remember anything about that ? There also several levels with no known credit : Fun Park, House of ill Repute, Mystery Dino Cave, Bigfoot Convention.

The signature on the truck stop is Route 66 was a joke! I was the only designer on that one. I just signed it "Billy Joe Jim Bob Buchalter" as a joke for bad redneck name. I wasn't the kind of guy that had to sign my maps the EXACT same way every time. :)

Other than the truck stop, I don't recall designing any other maps for Route 66. I pretty sure none of those you listed below were mine, but I don't recall whose they were.

Finally, here are some final comments Bill made after reading through some forum posts:

Wow, I am really quite humbled that you guys looked so deeply into my work! The fact that you could recognize my build style is pretty cool - I didn't even know I had a style! LOL. The truth be told, the reason you probably had so much trouble telling my levels from Robert's is because he was a big influence on me. I learned a lot from him and incorporated a lot of that into the stuff I built.

Its funny how reading through that thread you linked brought back memories... I remember now that my biggest disappointment from Duke Caribbean was that my only level in the game ended up being a secret level - that some people wouldn't even find it or ever play it. I was actually pretty excited about that level. I was the one that suggested a casino because my folks had retired to Vegas, so I'd been in a lot of the casinos there and had some great ideas for the map. I'd forgotten all about the restaurant I worked into it, and the big fish tanks.

There seems to be some debate about Robert. From what I remember, he was a really good guy. Maybe a bit tough to work for, but only because he really strived for our designs to be the best they could be, and he demanded that of both himself and the other designers. As I said before, I learned early on to accept criticism and critique and not take it personally. It was just Robert doing his job. I'll be the first to admit that I designed better levels thanks to the stuff I learned from Robert.

Someone on the message board made a very astute comment, basically to the effect that "Bill had to have other work out there. Sunstorm wouldn't hire an unproven guy off the street." But truth be told, that's exactly what they did! I hadn't done a single thing before working there. But I think a few things played in my favor. First, I lived in Indy, just 15 minutes from their office, so it was easy for me to go in and work directly with Robert. Second, while I didn't have anything officially published, I did have a disk full of the maps I'd designed on my own, and Robert thought I showed promise. I would design at home a lot, then go into the office a couple times a week and sit with Robert while he critiqued my work and offered advice on how to improve it.

I'll be honest - I'm blown away at the number of people STILL playing these old maps we made so many years ago. I watched a couple YouTube videos of a guy playing and reviewing Duke Caribbean and Blood Cryptic Passage. His high praise of both Full House and the Opera House really made my day. It's nice to know that people enjoyed my work.

_____________________________

Thanks a lot to Bill Buchalter for taking the time to answer these questions! Thanks also for sharing... “Big City” !

A Duke Nukem 3D map he created back in the day before joining with Sunstorm Interactive which was never released before! Screenshot:

Map download:

https://msdn.duke4.net/bigcity.zip

______

External link: Duke4 forum blog megathread: https://forums.duke4.net/topic/11471-blog-interviews-of-build-engine-video-games-developers/page__pid__353013#entry353013 The forum posts Bill read, mentionned above, can be found here: https://forums.duke4.net/topic/9418-duke-caribbean-multiplayer-levels/

[seyaryminamoto]

Anon-Nemesis - Right, I’ve got some free time, so I’ll have to make this a quickie, but I thought about my answers while at a boring family lunch thing.

Favorite Character: Ozai (The way you write him anyway, he’s pretty meh in canon))

Least Favorite Character (one who’s constantly there): I do have a few less than liked minor characters, but none of them are “Constantly There” So I have no good answer for this.

Favorite “Antagonist”: Ozai & Ol’ Spooky (Seethus) Lets face it, Ozai is the big papa of baddies, quite literally, and Ol’ Spooky spooked me good in his arc, at least till Azula and Xin handed him his own ass on a golden platter. I’m listing them together because you sort of portray them as a team where Seethus is just an extension of Ozai’s will personified (I might’ve picked Zhao too, but he hasn’t actively opposed our main duo too much so far, so instead I will pick)

Favorite OC: Rui Shi, duh. The guy has been there nearly from the start and has had Azula back even back in the early days when she was quite a jerk and hadn’t been, uh, tamed by Sokka (lol, not my best choice of words but I’m sticking to it, Azula might find the idea privately amusing these days but would kill me for sure for saying it like that) I feel like Goro would be high on this list, as would Ol’ Spooky, but we seen too little interaction with either for me to list them.

Favorite Gladiator: Aside from Sokka and Toph; My fav is The Millennium Dragon. Runners up The Alchemist (Well his sponsor is more interesting than him) Special Shout Out to the Dart Slayer, he jobbed so hard he got Sokka recruited (Was it Dart Slayer? Shit, it was so long ago) and a last conflicted entry, Rhone, I like what he represents (Basically Evil Sokka) but I don’t like him as a person, the dude is a straight asshole who needs a good thrashing.

Favorite Suitor or a Suitor I wished would make moves on Azula: Toph, I don’t mean in a shipping sense, but just Toph could mess with Azula and offer to marry her as a joke or something. Azula’s reaction would be priceless. A more serious answer, Zhao, He may be a douche, but I kind of like the guy in Gladiator, he’s not quite morally grey, but he does seem to only want the best for Azula, or his idea of the best, which ain’t actually the best for her.

Most Relatable Character: The young dude who works the desk at the Royal Dome, Shouji I think its spelled, such a timid little fellow, yet so composed since he’s always coming face to face with some of humanities mightiest people, the Gladiators, and scummiest people, sponsors. Plus he knows his business and does his job effectively. Supporting Sokka’s career is also nice. Also, special shout out to Keno. Wait, who was he again? Ah nevermind, probably nobody important. Anyway, where was I? …

Character I’d like to see more: Ol’ Spooky, mainly, that creeper really fascinates me, Its funny how he and Azula are frightened of eachother even though Azula would effortlessly waste his ass. I want to know how Ozai keeps the loyalty of someone that dangerous. Is he even human? Or some ancient fire spirit? He’s one of the biggest mysteries you’ve got going. Goro is one I really hope you develop, He’s got a nice fatherly, or grandfatherly vibe that could be a much needed point of stability for Azula in part 3.

 Favorite Canon (Gladiator canon)Pairing: Main Duo aside, Rui and Song were my number 1, but lately Ozai/Ursa has stolen it (Even though Ursa is gone.

Favorite Non-Canon Pairing: I can only come up with joke pairings I’m afraid, but. One sided Ty Lee X Ozai (The mental image of Mr. propper n serious, but buff, handsome Firelord with that bubbly bundle of joy hanging off his arm, bugging him to take her somewhere fun. I can’t stop laughing, he just wants her to get lost, and Azula is deeply worried about her friend’s sanity) Azula X O'l Spooky, or Azula X Sparky Sparky Boom Man (No matter which way you slice it, its one big, powerful and passionate fire storm, loud and explosive, silent and deadly, and each hella destructive) Okay fine, I’m only thinking of their bending, not the characters themselves. Sokka X Boomerang/Sword/Club (Wholesome until you realize he’s having a foursome with his own armory. Hell, let’s throw Azula into the mix, she can bring her own sword. Man, that’d be a dangerous bed, so many sharp and pointy accidents waiting to happen. But maybe Space Sword X Wolf’s Bane, they fight together, and snuggle together, just like their owners.

Favorite Arc: Tough call. Its a rivalry between Giving In arc, Slave Riot arc, Fire Lord’s Shadow and Air Temple arc for 2nd place. But 1st Place goes to combined Whaletail Island/Shu Jing arcs with how well they flow together, you outdid yourself with them, fluffy as half of them were

Favorite Place/Location:

 Part 1 or Part 2?:

I wished to see Sokkla more in/like … :

Guessing Game: Guess how good/bad I am at guessing games.

Finish the following sentences: “They don’t? I guess they were probably too busy looking at your… a-at… y-your ? ? ?” (Yeah, spot that one motherF-ers, I dare you.)

I think Azula & Sokka’s relationship will be revealed when/like/because of … Their own inability to exert willpower over their horny impulses. In other words their own reckless stupidity.

I believe at the end of Part 3 … Ozai gonna die, that’s about all I’m certain of. The invasion happens, lots of death and destruction. Since Aang ain’t a killer, my money is on Aang defeating Ozai but its Katara or The White Lotus who kill him. I don’t think Azula could do it though no matter how much she comes to hate her dad. Sokka won’t either since Azula still cares about Ozai, he’s still her papa. Besides, Azula may be too busy having a violent ass knockdown drag out deathmatch with Ol’ Spooky to keep him off the heroes backs, she wins and Ozai loses his two greatest assets. Ozai fights to the bitter end, ignoring Azula’s pleas for him to surrender, he’s too far gone in his hubris, his ego and his rage at Azula’s betrayal by then. Afterward, happy-ish ending, bittersweet, but Azula becomes Fire Lord, Sokka becomes Fire Lady, and has lots of kids and rule happily everafter, of 5 minutes ever after since those two can’t stop attracting trouble.

I’m glad you had a chance to join in! :D thank you for that submission, my friend!

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (122/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[29 May, 233 Before Age. Yetitan.]

Wampaaan'riix was tired. He had spent much of the day on the windswept pastures of his ancestral farm, clearing brush and counting livestock. For a man of his extraordinary strength, this was physically simple, but the tedium of it had a way of wearing him out. He had gone straight to bed upon returning home, barely making time to say good night to his wives and children.

When the communications terminal alerted him to a priority subspace call, he expected the worst. When he saw it was from Luffa's star-yacht, only for Dr. Topsas to appear on the viewer instead, he was even more concerned. He knew Luffa's Federation alliance was at war, with Saiyans battling on both sides.

"She is recovering in a stasis tank," Topsas explained. "I expect she will be completely healed in two months' time."

Wampaaan'riix stroked the long white hair that hung from his chin. There was long white hair covering the rest of his body as well, but the chin was the part he always reached for when he contemplated grim tidings. "In warfare, two months is an eternity, doctor" he said. "I'm surprised you were able to talk her into it."

"I suspect her injuries were more persuasive than anything I might have said," Topsas replied. "Individually, these enemy Saiyans are no match for her, but she has had to fight groups of them, on planet after planet, with little respite. I think she understood that if she didn't take this opportunity to heal, there might not be another chance later on."

"Is there something I can do to help?" Wampaaan'riix asked. "I've all but retired from fighting, but I owe her my life, after all."

"No, nothing like that," Topsas said. "I simply needed some... advice."

"Advice." he repeated.

"I spoke with one of my sons a few days ago. He wasn't very happy about my presence in Federation space during wartime," Topsas said. "He practically begged for me to come home. He arranged a transport ship to arrive at Woshad in four days."

"Then I think you should take it," Wampaaan'riix said. He first met Luffa and Topsas in a Deathmatch tournament on Plutark VII. He had been so certain of his fighting skills, and she had defeated him with ease, then she toyed with him to test her abilities. Then she accidentally read his mind, and after seeing his regret for walking out on his family, she decided to spare him. "I'm positive that she would understand if you left the war to go back to your loved ones."

"I don't know that I can do that," Topsas said.

"Doctor, you just told me that Luffa will be in a stasis chamber for the next several weeks," Wampaaan'riix said. "I've seen how those things work during my time in the Yetitan military. They're very low-maintenance. Now that you've set it up, you could probably show Zatte how to handle the day-to-day operations. And there's no shortage of doctors in the Federation who could take over for you."

"I'm not so sure..." Topsas said. "The statis chamber is one thing, of course. Plenty of others could handle it."

"Well, what else is there?" Wampaaan'riix asked. It was difficult for him to keep his patience. Bad enough that he had been woken from his sleep, that he was sitting at his desk instead of the warm rugs of his den. But Topsas was never very forthcoming about his feelings. Always masking everything with dry humor and sarcasm. He had never known the arachnoid to ask for help like this, and now he was beginning to understand why. It wasn't stubborn pride so much as the doctor just couldn't quite spit out what the problem was.

And when Topsas finally answered, he only said: "Mycotherapy."

Which told Wampaaan'riix absolutely nothing. "What?" he asked.

"There is a particular species of fungus," Topsas explained. "In the wild, it has the ability to alter its DNA to mimic plant or animal tissue. This allows it to graft itself onto a host while avoiding any immune response. Three years ago, a team of researchers found a way to modify the fungus for medical applications. Genetic engineering, you know. A few fungal cells are applied to the site of the injury, and cultivated to replicate. If managed properly, they'll form a structure to fill in the wounded tissue. Then the fungal mass can be made to transform itself into part of the patient's own body."

"That sounds unbelievable."

"It's a rather new form of medicine," Topsas said. "I only learned of it myself very recently, while I was researching possible treatments for Luffa. I... began casting about for more... radical ideas."

"Radical," Wampaaan'riix said. "As in 'dangerous'?

"The graft has to be carefully monitored. Left unchecked, it could grow out of control, and consume the patient. And it hasn't been tested on many species. Until... recently, there's been no testing on any mammalian species at all."

"If you don't know what it could do to Saiyan biology, then why risk it?"

"Because I do know how it will interact with Saiyan biology. I... performed my own tests, using tissue samples from Luffa herself. I only did it to set my mind at ease-- to prove that it would never work, so that I could stop second-guessing myself. But, the results turned out to be more promising than I expected. There's a very strong chance that I could heal her wounds in a fraction of the time it would take for conventional stasis chamber therapy to work."

"Why haven't you told her about this?"

"I only obtained the results a few days ago, right before she went into the chamber. Before that, it was only an experiment. Besides, there would still be an immense risk. I would need to apply multiple grafts to her body and monitor them all simultaneously. No one has ever attempted this before, on any species. No one would."

"Then why consider it at all?"

"Because when I look at the work that would be involved, I cannot help but think I might be able to carry it off. It's not a certainty, but I've carried out delicate operations that humanoid physicians wouldn't dare attempt. The researchers who devised mycotherapy techniques were all vertebrate doctors. Greater minds than I, but even so, I believe I have abilities they did not. And while I lack experience in this specific therapy, I dare say I know Saiyan physiology better than anyone. If it can be done at all, then I believe it must be I."

Wampaaan'riix stroked his chin again. "And if you try this, you definitely won't make the transport your son sent you. But that's not what's bothering you. Otherwise you would just take the transport and let Luffa heal for two months under someone else's care. That would be the best thing for everyone, right? So why are you even considering this fungus of yours?"

He didn't answer right away, and Wampaaan'riix wasn't terribly surprised. He hadn't called from so far away for idle chit-chat.

"I became a doctor because I wanted to help people," Topsas finally said. "In my religion, it is said that my people were blessed with eight eyes so we may always see when others are in need, and eight limbs so that we may always have one ready to lend aid. I was fascinated with vertebrate anatomy, and I thought becoming a doctor would enable me to see more, to help more. Do you remember when we met?"

"On Plutark. You were patching up the competitors in the Deathmatch tournaments. I never did understand how you ended up there."

The tournament organizers paid handsomely for my assistance," Topsas said. "And my practice needed the funding. Besides, I felt that if I could at least tend to your injuries, then I could know that the competitors received as much genuine care as possible before most of them met their end. Another doctor might not bother, since he would expect most of you to die by the end of the day anyway. But I could hold myself accountable at least."

"But Luffa changed all of that."

"She spared you, and in the process, she defied the tournament organizers, and ended up shutting down their entire operation, thereby saving the lives of the other fighters who still had matches that evening. To say nothing of the fighters who might have participated in future matches that will no longer occur. Before, I had written you and Luffa off as little more than brutes. Yet you returned to your homeworld, to your family. You've raised your son into a fine man, from what I can tell. I trust the rest of your offspring have been just as fortunate."

Wampaaan'riix was honored by the compliment, but he was also wearied by the late hour. "What are you getting at, doctor?" he asked with a loud yawn.

"For a time, I saw my work in those dreadful tournaments as an unpleasant chore. I was less a doctor and more of a priest, administering last rites for the condemned. Oh, one fortunate soul would live to see the next day, but I always knew that survivor would die in some other battle, thinking his victory made him invincible. But Luffa was special, and in discovering that, I realized that I had been remiss in my duties, both medical and spiritual. That was why I came to her aid on the Tikosi Hiveworld. It was the right thing to do, of course, but I wonder if any other doctor would have felt such an obligation. You owed her your life, Wampaaan'riix, but I owed her my soul.

"And now, it seems that she blames me for her overzealous crusade to defend the Federation. I comforted her in her hour of need, you see. I held her hand and calmed her down after the battle with the Tikosi, after she killed her own father. She reminded me so much of my daughter. Nwitt died of a terminal illness. In the final stages, it affected her brain, made her a danger to herself and others. In the end, she was so terrified, and all I could do was euthanize her. I couldn't hold my own daughter's hand in her final moments. She had to be restrained, you see. When Luffa first transformed, it seem as though she might explode at any moment. I thought that if this were to be the end, then comforting her in her final moments would be a fitting way to die. Instead, she lived, and she apparently has taken my gesture as an example of courage.

"I never considered the things my patients might do after they leave my care," he said. "Their lives are their own business, of course. I was content to help them with what I had. But there is a ripple effect to it, isn't there? The person I mend one day may help someone else another day. And another. Perhaps someone down the chain actually manages to save someone's life. It's a frightening thing to consider. And Luffa is no mere pebble tossed into a pond. With her power, she's more like a meteor crashing into the ocean. I cannot bring myself to think of hers as a single life. There are so many other lives that she has influenced and may still influence in the future. A week or two months might mean the difference between life and death for countless people. And I can choose. A week or two months. I can play it safe, or I can dare to perform a challenging procedure that might kill or cripple my patient."

"Cripple?"

"One of the potential side effects of mycotherapy," he explained. "Even if the fungal growth is kept under control, the drugs used to maintain that control can affect the patient's senses. Her sight or sense of smell might be permanently damaged."

Wampaaan'riix leaned back in his chair. "High stakes," he said. "Knowing Luffa, she would probably just as soon fight blind, and she might even win, powerful as she is. But her enemies would just injure her again, and worse than before."

"I trust you see my dilemma," Topsas said. "I asked Ms. Dotz for advice. The woman is a fortuneteller, but she has a psychic blindspot where Luffa's fate is concerned, and she seems to have no idea how many people will live or die as a result of my actions. It serves me right for trying to peek ahead a few pages in my own life. She told me that I would certainly do the right thing, but it isn't that simple. I... I don't know what the right thing is."

"And that's why you contacted me," Wampaaan'riix surmised.

"There was no one else to ask. I wanted an objective opinion from someone who knows her," Topsas said.

Wampaaan'riix sighed and considered the matter carefully. "Doctor," he finally asked, "what do you think Luffa would say to all of this?"

"I haven't discussed it with her yet," Topsas replied. "Knowing her, she would probably insist on taking this gamble. Which is precisely why I am so reluctant to suggest it. For me it's an ethical problem, but for her! As far as she's concerned, even a disabled Super Saiyan would be better than an injured one. All she cares about now is time. The young always worry about running out of something they have in abundance."

"No, that's not what I'm asking," Wampaaan'riix said. "Suppose Luffa were in your position. How do you think she would approach this dilemma?"

"I don't understand... you mean, if she were a doctor treating a patient?" he asked.

"Yes. What would she do?"

His fuzzy pedipalps twitched as he wrestled with this scenario. Wampaaan'riix never quite learned to read Topsas's alien body language, so he watched uncertainly as the doctor thought it over. He was mildly concerned that he might drift off to sleep while he waited for Topsas to respond.

"I suspect," Topsas finally said, "that she would find a way to push herself to her limits. The difficulty of the procedure would only be a challenge for her. She would rise to meet it, unless she were absolutely certain that it was beyond her ability."

"Very good," Wampaan'riix said. "Spoken like a true warrior. I think that is the way you should decide. If you truly believed this plan of yours is unsound, then you would have abandoned it a long time ago. Instead, you've slowly talked yourself into it, until now, you stand at the threshold, but you aren't sure you're ready to commit. You're asking the rest of us for permission to try, but this is your battlefield, doctor, and yours alone."

"I will... consider what you have said," Topsas said after a long pause. "Though, to be honest, this was not quite the advice I was hoping for."

"We have a saying on Yetitan," Wampaaan'riix said. "'Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer, but wish we didn't.' I don't know Dotz, but she sounds like a wise woman. So I agree that you will do the right thing, whatever you ultimately decide. Good luck to you, doctor."

They exchanged a few pleasantries before terminating the connection, leaving Wampaan'riix sitting alone in the darkened room. He thought about returning to his den, but somehow he doubted he would get much sleep, knowing what he knew of Luffa's condition.

*******

[30 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

Topsas did not decide right away. He resolved instead to wait another twenty-four hours and see how Luffa was responding to conventional treatment. The results he obtained from the sensor scans was less than encouraging.

"This isn't working," he said as he read the results. Luffa could not hear him. She floated in a suspension of medicated statis fluid, kept in an induced state of unconsciousness. Nor was there anyone else in the sickbay of the Emerald Eye to hear him. He continued speaking anyway.

"Your injuries are responding to the treatment, but not nearly at the rate I had hoped for. My own fault for being overly optimistic. I expected you to produce another miracle. Somehow your Saiyan biology would repair itself even more quickly, and you would break out of this tank in a mere ten days.

"But no. The inflammation in your feet has barely changed. Your cracked ribs have only just begun to knit. What is wrong with you, Little mammal? Are you so determined to keep fighting that you defy medical attention, even when you're unconscious?"

He had originally projected her full recovery would take at least two months. Based on the data he now had, that estimate would have to be revised upward. Three months, maybe even four. The bio-regenerative gel was working. He had used it on her in the past, after all. But it wasn't fast enough. Something about her condition was slowing down the whole process.

"My apologies. It is a poor physician who blames his patient. And yet, I cannot fathom what is going on in those cells of yours. Is your body focusing itself on increasing your power? The 'zenkai' as your people call it. Am I seeing a physical manifestation of that right now? Ninth Eye, are you so starved for combat that your body would fight itself? Half of you is trying to use this treatment to repair itself, and the other half is working on making you stronger."

He had prided himself on his expertise in Saiyan biology, but that honor was mostly by default. He was the only doctor who had spent this much time on a Saiyan patient, but there was still much that he didn't understand about how their bodies worked. The light of the full moon could make Luffa grow into a gargantuan ape-creature... unless her tail happened to be injured or amputated. It sounded like pure fantasy, but it was well-documented fact. They were so unlike other vertebrates, and Luffa was unique, even among her own kind. She never spoke of it, at least not to him, but he often imagined that being the Super Saiyan made her very lonely.

"I pray that I am wrong," he said. "Perhaps your body simply doesn't have the necessary compatibility with the medication. It can't be that your power is resisting the healing effects. It would be dreadful to be so devoid of peace. I think you crave peace as much as the rest of us do. Perhaps you only want it as a respite between battles, a good night's sleep, a quiet evening with your wife. I wish I could give these to you. As it is, I cannot even give you a swift recovery."

He stooped down in front of the chamber and looked at her through the transparent surface.

"I am not as oblivious as you might think," he said. "I know how important it is that you return to the front lines. Even now, I feel like your expression is daring me to do better. I don't know that I can. Is it worth the risk? Is it worth your life?"

He had gone over the mycotherapy procedure several times after speaking with Wampaaan'riix. He thought he could do it. What troubled him was that it had never been done quite the way he had in mind. As he regarded Luffa's face, he thought of his son, Turner, begging him to take the transport he had arranged to get him out of the warzone. He thought of his daughter, Nwitt, desperate for help, when the only thing he could offer was a painless death.

Then he put his hand on the control panel of the chamber, and activated the program to revive the occupant.

"I'll need to interrupt your sleep," he said. "I have something to discuss with you, and you may want to talk it over with your spouse."

*******

[31 May, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

They said yes. Of course they did. Topsas never doubted it. Luffa was a warrior anxious to return to her war, and Zatte was... well, she was something of a fanatic where Luffa was concerned. She insisted on performing some Dorlun ritual to honor Topsas before he began his work. It involved some sort of liturgy, and burning bits of her own hair in candle flames. Zatte could be very strange at times. But Luffa was the one that made him the most nervous. When he had explained the risks and difficulties of his proposed mycotherapy treatment, she simply grinned at him with that savage smile of hers, and shook his hand.

"I can tell how fired up you are about this, Doc," she had said before being sedated. "This should be fun."

It was as if she couldn't tell excitement from apprehension. But something about the conviction in her voice made him wonder if maybe she knew his feelings better than he did. Perhaps he was the one who had been mistaking enthusiasm for fear. Luffa had a peculiar talent of making him question himself.

And so far, it was working. Dr. Topsas wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. An early failure at this stage would at least put the matter to rest. He could say he tried, and move on. But it was working, at least for now, which mean that he had to keep going, and brave the potential failures that might still lie ahead.

He had never used seven hands at once. Not for surgery, not for anything, until today. Now, he rested his cephalothoarx on a barstool he had borrowed from a lounge on the ship, and used only one of his limbs to steady himself on that perch. The other seven limbs loomed over the stasis chamber, operating controls, dispensing drugs, and occasionally probing surgical incisions. His eight eyes observed all of this: his own movements, computer monitors, vital sign readouts, and more.

His two greatest points of concern were a hole in Luffa's left foot, and a damaged section of her right kidney. The foot had the largest injury, which required the largest fungal graft. If any of the grafts were to grow out of control, that was the most likely to do so. The kidney, on the other hand, was the most vital organ he had grafted. The graft was small, but if anything went wrong there, it could lead to more serious complications.

There were fifteen other sites to consider as well. Tendon damage in the right tricep. Puncture wound in the right foot. Left ring finger fracture. Three cracked ribs. Anterior cruciate ligament tear on right knee. Six lacerations in the abdomen, all damaging the large intestine. Large contusion on left thigh. Tendon damage on right shoulder. But he was certain that if the left foot and kidney could be made to recover, the others could be made to recover as well.

The first seventy-two hours were the most intensive. Normally, a team of doctors would carefully monitor the patient's progress and make adjustments as needed. He would need to do this alone, continuously. And he would probably have to be more nimble, since there would probably be unforeseen complications. He could slow down and take a little more time, but this carried a risk. If Luffa's organs rejected the fungal grafts, or vice-versa, he would need to take quick action, or risk undoing his progress. Better to exhaust himself across three days than to pace himself across four or five.

An alert from one of the monitors warned him of an acceleration in growth on one of Luffa's ribs. He applied a dilute solution of R-gel to slow it down. Beside Luffa was a tray of solutions he had prepared at various concentrations before beginning the procedure. Normally, a doctor administering mycotherapy would simply use one of the stronger concentrations. At worst, the entire graft might die, and he would have to apply a new one. Topsas didn't want to wait that long, and so he added his own variation to the procedure. He had to slow any runaway fungal growth, but he would try to use dilute R-gel first, so as not to risk destroying his progress on that front.

It was all experimental and unprecedented. The technique was sound, and he was sure of his abilities, but it had never been done quite like this, with so many simultaneous grafts. He didn't care for blazing new trails. Being the first was a scary proposition. But the situation had forced his hand. How could he turn away from this? He had too many hands, and too many eyes not to try.

Luffa's metabolic readouts were fluctuating, and so he had to divide his attention to modifying her nutrient intake. This, in turn, shifted the delicate balance of the grafts. He was losing one of them, the one on her arm.

No. He refused to surrender. It would be all too easy to sacrifice a few of the mycotheraputic sites and start over on a second session. Easier, safer, and more time-consuming. How many people could Luffa help during that lost time? Was he willing to doom them just to make things easier for himself?

He looked down at Luffa's face. Even unconscious, there was something aggressive in her expression, like she was aware of the struggle he was going through.

He had never completely understood his late daughter. Even before her illness, Nwitt's manic passions seemed alien to him, and to everyone he knew. He had seen some of Nwitt in Luffa, and pitied her for it. But over time, he came to see the Saiyan heart as something more than an engine of war. Luffa had shown him a fiery passion that could do more than kill. She could laugh, cry, love, and draw strength from those intense emotions. And as Topsas came to admire Luffa, he began to appreciate Nwitt all the more. For the first time in decades, Topsas saw his daughter as something other than a tragedy to be mourned. Her short life, and the wild emotions that fueled it, were something to be celebrated and cherished. Even the fear that came at the end, well that had its own meaning, in its own way.

He prayed for some of that energy now. If his skill and steady hands should falter, there was still his pride as a healer to drive him. There was still the thrill of the challenge, the fear of failure. His daughter was dead, but if he could save this little mammal in her honor, then maybe it would give some purpose to her loss.

"I won't lose," he said aloud. Whether he was speaking to himself or to his patient, or to Nwitt's spirit, he did not know. As he worked, he soon forgot all thoughts of the risks of this task. He ignored the fatigue that began to weather his stamina. He simply ignored all other courses, save the one he was on.

Zatte--bless her soul--believed Luffa to be an instrument of God's will. While Topsas respected this viewpoint, he disagreed. He had seen Luffa on the day she had first transformed. He had seen how violent and terrified she was. He had held her hand to calm her down. He still remembered the feel of Tikosi blood on her fingers, the whimpers she made as she fought to regain control of her own body. Perhaps this was the way divine instruments were chosen, but Topsas had trouble believing it. There was nothing glorious or honorable about it. She was compelled to follow an unknown path that was fraught with danger. And Luffa had faced that fate with courage on that day.

He swore to do no less on this day.

*******

[1 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

And the next day.

*******

[2 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

And the next...

*******

[3 June, 233 Before Age. Pillimede Asteroid Belt.]

He didn't sleep in the way that vertebrates did. When he was tired, Topsas simply ceased moving, and remained still for a time, though he remained fully aware of his surroundings. He was long overdue for this type of rest, but he couldn't stop for long. Having completed his work on Luffa, he was anxious to drain the chamber and revive her, so that he could conduct a more thorough examination, and make sure there were no lasting side-effects. The entire process took forty-five minutes. While mechanical pumps removed the medicated fluid, a tube attached to a face mask removed the fluid from her lungs, gradually reacquainting her respiratory system with air. The mask also delivered a sedative, and when he was ready, he reduced the dosage, opened the lid of the chamber and waited.

She regained consciousness almost immediately, barely giving him time to prepare the med scanner. "Where...? Oh. Right, the stasis chamber," she said, as she came to her senses. "How did it go?"

"Better... better than expected," Topsas said, surprised by the hoarseness of his voice. "I... yes, better than expected. I'll leave it at that."

"Where's Zatte?"

"Oh, I... er, neglected to call her. I imagine she would be on the bridge. I've lost track of the time."

"How long was I out?"

"Three days." Tired as he was, he could not easily forget this, as he hadn't rested in all of that time.

"Three? You said it would take a week."

"Ah, yes, I did. It seems that your body was much more agreeable to the mycotherapy than I anticipated. I still want you to rest, but I don't know that we'll need the chamber for that. How are you feeling?"

Luffa paused for a moment, as though searching herself for an answer. "Sore," she said. Holding her hands in front of her face. "Not as bad as before, but... my vision's all... blurry."

Relief washed over him. Blurry vision, he could deal with. He had worried that she wouldn't be able to see at all, or something worse. He passed the med-scanner over her face anyway, to verify what she had said, but now he could feel more confident about it.

"A side effect of the fungal grafts," Topsas explained. "Your eyesight will return to normal eventually, though I shall have to monitor it carefully before we repeat the process."

"Repeat it?" Luffa asked.

"I think... yes, I think I've learned enough from this first attempt to feel confident about trying again," Topsas said. "The benefits seem to outweigh the risks at this point."

Luffa tried to sit up, and Topsas reached out to hold her back and guide her upright.

"Hold on," she said. "You're telling me that you managed to heal me up from all of that, in three days' time? And you can do it again? Whenever you want?"

"Not 'whenever'," he said with a sigh. "As I just said, I need to monitor your vision first. If we proceed too quickly, use the fungal graft too often, we run the risk of permanently damaging your senses."

"Yeah, but still..." She held up her left hand and looked at it. "It's not too blurry. Not sure why I see this blue tint on my skin..."

"That is the stasis fluid, little mammal," he said. One of his hands was already reaching up with a towel to wipe it off.

"Doc, are you okay?"

"Why would I not be?"

"You just sound tired somehow. It's hard to tell with you."

"I... may have overexerted a little," he admitted.

"You should rest," Luffa said. She planted her hands on the side of the chamber and began to pull herself out. "I can the service droid to bring us some dinner--"

He grabbed her by the shoulder to stop her from going any further.

"You are going to stay put until I am satisfied that your condition is stable," he said, noticing a faltering in his voice. "I just put you back together, and I want at least a little time to savor the victory before you rush off to undo all of my hard work."

"Sure, Doc, whatever you say," Luffa assured him. He turned to fetch something from one of the benchtops, and then he noticed her smiling at him.

"Does something amuse you?" he asked.

"You turned a corner, didn't you?" Luffa asked. "I'm a little out of it, but I can tell that much."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You weren't too thrilled about trying something like this, but now that it's over, you're practically champing at the bit to do it again."

"Oh yes, because I always look forward to seeing you return to this ship, bloodied and battered. Truly the highlight of my day."

"You remind me of when I was a kid, after I did my first Gallick Gun," Luffa said.

He said nothing, and pretended to be preoccupied with his scans.

"It might be a while before you get to do it again," she said. "Now that I'm healed up, it'll take a lot more to wear me down again. Those Jindan-using bastards won't have it so easy next time. Don't get too eager. You might get bored waiting for me to get hurt."

"I shall believe that when I see it," Topsas said.

She kept on gloating, as Saiyans so often do, about how she would destroy her enemies and reign supreme on the battlefield. Topsas simply carried on with his work, and when he was satisfied that there was nothing left for him to do for the time being, he called Zatte, then went to Luffa's bedside, and held her hand.

NEXT: To the future...

[mayhemproduces]

MJF vs VIOLET

As MJF walks down to the ring, he’s accompanied by the usual suspects, his Savant, Paul Heyman, and the MPW World Tag Team Champions, MJF has a mic in his hands, and he starts to speak as his music cuts off. “VIOLET, VIOLET, VIOLET, it’s been a couple years. How’ve you been? You look like shit.” 

VIOLET rolls her eyes and leans against the ropes as she tells Max to hurry up and get into the ring. Max simply waves her off as he keeps speaking. “I was doing some thinking in the back, and my buddy Syn here brought up a good point. Unlike my best friend Syn, who turns deathmatch wrestling into an artform, you need weapons because you can’t actually fucking wrestle. Paul says it’s bad for the show if the main event flops, so I’ve decided to meet you halfway, on your disgusting, dirty, gutter trash level, and throw you a bone. So tonight, VIOLET, I don’t just get to show the world that I’m Better Than You… I get to show the world that I’m a better hardcore wrestler than you too. Tonight’s main event is gonna be…. ATLAS RULES!” 

WOW! Big, big step up in stakes here from the MPW World Champion, as the MPW crew members scramble around to fill the ringside area here with weapons! Our main event tonight is going to get hyperviolent!

Doors are already positioned in the ring in opposing corners by the MPW ring hands, and as VIOLET gets into the ring from going shopping around the outside for things to beat MJF with, she brings with her a plastic storage bin, and a plastic water jug taped to the end of a broomstick, as it became clear exactly what kind of fight VIOLET was expecting here tonight. VIOLET slaps herself a couple of times as MJF approaches the ring, trying to get herself into the zone, get ready for the fight that was to come. As soon as MJF rolls into the ring, VIOLET has the broom stick water jug, raises it over her head, and nails MJF right in the head! Referee Tom Dunn calls for the bell, we’re underway quickly here! 

VIOLET rears back with the weapon again, and once again clocks MJF over the head with it, before grabbing a bopper bat with thumb tacks glued to it, slamming that over MJF’s head, stunning him again, and then grabbing the plastic storage bin, raising that up, and smashing that over MJF’s head! The hard plastic breaks as it makes contact with MJF’s head, and MJF stumbles into the ropes, blood already starting to trickle down his forehead. MJF drops, and VIOLET is quick to shove him into his back, looking for the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

MJF out at two. VIOLET waits as MJF gets back to his feet, before hitting the ropes and charging MJF, as MJF swings with the lariat, VIOLET evades and leaps onto MJF’s shoulders, before planting MJF with a Crucifix Bomb! MJF dropped right on his head! 

VIOLET gets back up and starts rearranging some furniture, grabbing one of the doors in the corner and dragging it out, before grabbing a chair, and propping that door up on the chair. She then grabs another chair, setting that up, before putting the other end of the door on that, creating a makeshift table. VIOLET tries to grab MJF, lifting him up, before looking between the top turnbuckle, and the door, before grabbing MJF by the head, and running off the ropes, looking for a rope assisted bulldog, but with VIOLET up in the air, MJF throws her off, and slams VIOLET right through the door! Holy shit! 

The door explodes underneath the impact, and VIOLET clutches her back, crying out in agony. MJF kicks the door out of the way, lifting VIOLET up, before immediately dropping VIOLET with a huge chop right to the chest! The chops of MJF were viscous, caving the chest of many a competitor here in MPW, VIOLET being the latest victim. The crowd booed as MJF took a lap around the ring, egging the crowd on, before grabbing VIOLET, lifting her up, and doing it again! Dropping VIOLET with a stiff chop! 

MJF sets up a half door in the corner, before trying to go back after VIOLET, but VIOLET catches MJF with a boot to try and get him away, and then pulls herself up to a knee, nailing MJF with a punch to the gut. MJF’s quick to shut it down with a knee right to VIOLET’s face, knocking her back over. MJF forces her into a seated position, before BLASTING VIOLET with a sharp kick right to the back! The sound echoed all throughout the building, as VIOLET groans in agony. VIOLET tries to sit back up, before MJF boots her right in the face. MJF picks VIOLET back up, before lifting her into the air, and unceremoniously slamming VIOLET right back down to the mat! MJF just toying with VIOLET at this point! 

MJF grabs the door and sets in up between the ropes so that the door is being held straight up by the ropes. MJF then grabs VIOLET again, before putting her up against the ropes and chopping her again. VIOLET wilts for a second, before answering MJF a chop with her own, VIOLET determined to go blow for blow with the Bone Collector tonight. MJF nails her with one in return, and VIOLET doesn’t back down, blasting MJF right back! MJF measures VIOLET, and delivers a palm strike right to her face, stunning VIOLET, before sending VIOLET off the ropes. MJF tries to catch her on the rebound, but VIOLET turns it around, turning the move into a headscissors, which she uses to throw MJF right through the door against the ropes, MJF breaking it as he explodes through it and crashes down to the floor! Holy shit! MJF might be out after that! 

MJF takes a nasty fall to the outside, and VIOLET manages to get back up to her feet, getting the crowd clapping, before VIOLET turns, hits the ropes, and as MJF regains his feet, VIOLET takes MJF out with a HUGE Tope Suicidia! VIOLET has managed to flip momentum in a big way!

VIOLET tosses MJF back into the ring and stands him back up, laying into him with a series of stiff forearms, backing MJF into the corner, before VIOLET charges across the ring, launches herself into MJF, and nails him with a European Uppercut, before VIOLET measures again, turns, and launches herself into MJF with a dropkick, taking Max down! VIOLET hooks the leg for the cover!

1…2…. Kickout!

MJF out at two again! VIOLET is quick to try and stay on the advantage though, grabbing a chair and dragging it over, before raising it up and nailing MJF across the body with it! VIOLET raises the chair up and does it again, blasting MJF with another big chair shot to the chest. VIOLET does it a third time, before turning the chair and using the point of it to choke MJF against the mat! VIOLET then puts the chair against MJF’s chest, before turning and heading up to the top rope, setting her feet. MJF tries to throw the chair at VIOLET, trying to knock her off the ropes, but VIOLET catches the chair, and throws it right back at MJF, knocking MJF right back down! VIOLET manages to set her feet, and launch herself, crashing down on MJF & the chair with a HUGE Swanton! VIOLET might have just done it, but she can’t capitalize right away! Landing on the chair has VIOLET clutching her back and rolling around in agony, VIOLET may have put MJF down, but she did massive damage to herself in the process!

VIOLET starts dragging herself back over to where MJF is, but it takes her almost a full minute before she’s able to drape herself over Max for the cover! 

1….2…. KICKOUT!

The precious moments of rest after such a big move had to be what allowed MJF to kick out of that, if VIOLET had managed to cover him right away, that would’ve been in. VIOLET runs her hands through her hair in frustrating, pounding the mat, knowing she had him there. VIOLET rolls out of the ring, and shes looking for something specific, because she takes almost an entire lap around the outside, digging around the ring, looking for what she needs. She eventually finds it, an entire big plastic container, and it’s filled up with Thumbtacks! VIOLET’s got a whole quart of thumbtacks! 

VIOLET rolls back into the ring, and pours the tacks out into the middle of the ring, before VIOLET manages to get Max back up, before starting to lay into MJF with a series of right hands, stunning MJF, before VIOLET grabs MJF, runs off the ropes with him, and drops him with a BIG Running Bulldog, right on the tacks! Holy shit! MJF might be done! VIOLET into the cover! 

1….2… KICKOUT!

MJF out at two again! VIOLET wastes no time though, getting up and letting out a War Cry as MJF gets back up, trying to hit the End of Everything, but MJF ducks it, and slips behind VIOLET, before throwing VIOLET overhead with a German Suplex right into the tacks! Holy shit! VIOLET had a back full of tacks as MJF picks her back up again, and tries to set VIOLET on the ropes for the Heatseeker, but suddenly, Matsumoto, who had just charged down the ramp, jumps up onto the apron, and blasts MJF with a stiff right hand! Matsumoto is here to help their partner! 

Immediately, Syn and Abigail both charge Matsumoto and start beating down on them, the two on one assault not working out so well for Matsu, but it seems Matsu didn’t come without backup either, here comes Malakai Black & Prince Devitt! Things have completely broken down here! 

Malakai on Abigail, Devitt on Syn, as we’ve broken down into an all out brawl here on the outside! Devitt shitcans Syn over the guardrail, and Malakai drops Abigail with The End! 

Unfortunately, back in the ring, Paul Heyman slides the ring across the mat to Max, as VIOLET is getting back to her feet. Max twists the ring onto his finger, and measures VIOLET as she gets back up… 

But before Max can land the punch, Malakai Black grabs MJF by the wrist! MJF gets caught! Max turns around, as Malakai wags a finger at him, before Malakai goes for the The End s on MJF…. 

BUT MJF DUCKS! MALAKAI INADVERTENTLY BLASTS VIOLET! HOLY SHIT! MJF shoves Malakai out of the ring and hooks the leg on VIOLET!

1….2…3!

MJF steals one!

“Here is your winner, the MPW World Champion, Maxwell Jacob Friedman, MJF!” 

MJF slides out of the ring and has his had raised by Heyman, MJF escaping by the skin of his teeth this time! 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 206: The Third Set Concludes

Previously on BnHA: Team TodoIidaShoujiRo battled Team TetsuHonePonySen TO THE DEATH, apparently. Shouto lost his fucking mind and went all out with his flames and set the whole fucking place on fire. But somehow Chintetsu was able to withstand it without fucking melting, and held his ground until Honenuki showed up and knocked Shouto unconscious with a falling streetlight pole. This was after he singlehandedly took out Ojiro and Shouji. It honestly looked like that was it for Team A, but then Iida zoomed back over and drop-kicked Honenuki in the face. He tried to carry Shouto to safety, but before they could make it to the clear, Honenuki (who conveniently stayed conscious just long enough to do this) melted the base of a big industrial chimney and told Tetsu to knock it down, which he did, right on top of Iida. So Iida is now dead, Todoroki is still unconscious and probably dying of hyperthermia, Honenuki is concussed, and congratulations Deku, I’ve finally gotten over that one fight where you systematically broke all your own fingers one by one, because this shit makes that look like a tickle fight.

Today on BnHA: With four students dead or dying before their eyes, the teachers opt to sit back and wait to see how the final moments of the battle will play out. Shouji, Ojiro, and Pony engage in a frantic struggle which results in Pony capturing Ojiro and tying up the score at 1-1. She then proceeds to wait out the clock, knowing that she can’t try to capture one of the other downed Team A kids without putting her own unconscious teammates at risk. So the deathmatch ends in a draw of all things, and the teachers generously decide to forego debriefing the kids for now in favor of getting them all some medical treatment before they actually do kick the bucket. Over in Recovery Girl’s office, Shouto, Iida, and Honenuki all bond over somehow feeling like they didn’t do enough, until RG kicks them all out, probably to call child protective services or something. The long-awaited fourth set then begins, and Team BakuJirouSatouSero gets ready to kick some ass. Bakugou is all “DEKU, JUST WATCH ME!” and I don’t know about Deku, but I’m all set for this. Get out there and show ‘em how it’s done, kiddo.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 223, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

lol for fuck’s sake

your teachers love you, children. I think

wow Iida is still conscious

“ow,” he says. I really don’t think Horikoshi knows how crushing injuries work

so now poor Iida is apologizing to the unconscious Todoroki and wishing he had been just one step faster

on the plus side, at least you weren’t one step slower. that would have been real bad

Vlad is gleefully saying that because Sen put up so much resistance, he successfully delayed Iida long enough for this chain of events to take place

Aizawa is chiding Vlad for his biased reporting. yes, Aizawa. that’s what you should be getting upset about here. got those priorities down pat

Mina says that if the status quo remains the same, class A will hold onto its 1-0 lead and win, but that doesn’t match up with my recollection of events. Shouji and Ojiro were captured by Honenuki, presumably

or maybe not, because now we’re cutting back to Shouji who’s in the midst of battling things out with Pony

now we’re flashing back to see how this all came about, and I’m just gonna post it rather than try to sum it up

(ETA: in fairness to Shouto and Honenuki who have so far bore the brunt of my sarcastic ranting for taking things too far, let’s not overlook this scene where Ojiro is all “even if you stab me!!!” and Pony is like “okay!” and actually does stab him. hero training. fun times!)

holy shit, she took him out even when it was two against one. damn, Pony

so okay, apparently the score is tied now at 1-1

jesus christ Pony is quickly becoming the fourth-quarter MVP out here

by the way, I thought all the melted stuff was supposed to go back to normal after Honenuki passed out, so why does it still look the same? did it just harden again while still looking like that?

(ETA: I guess it must have. I have some questions now about how effective Honenuki would be in a situation where he actually had to try and keep property damage to a minimum. maybe tone it down just a bit in the future.)

but anyway, so if Pony can capture Todoroki and prevent A Team from nabbing Tetsu and Honenuki until the clock expires, they’ll win

but she’s worried she won’t be able to keep this up

I BELIEVE IN YOU PONY

I can’t believe Shouji is going to fucking blow it for the entire A Team. goddamn it Shouji

oh snap!

(ETA: whoops I originally had the wrong picture here. fixed!)

this is why Deku wants to be able to fly so badly. flying solves everything

aaand time is expiring!

wow I did not see this coming

I can’t believe all these kids nearly killed themselves over a stupid training match that ultimately ended in a fucking draw of all things

I hope Recovery Girl drops a big smokestack on Aizawa and Vlad to see how they like it. for fuck’s sake

Kaminari is griping about how it’s not fair, but Shishida’s pointing out that what Pony did was a logical course of action. “running away and awaiting rescue”

yep. and on top of that, she did capture two members of the other team as well; she just didn’t make it back to Rat Principal Jail within the time limit

oh snap a wild IidaRaka moment!

from this angle we can all agree he would have 100% been crushed to death, yes?

anyway, I love how Ochako is always so considerate of his feelings. he doesn’t have enough people looking out for his mental state like that. Ochako is such a good friend and the two of them are so adorable I swear

damn, I was kind of looking forward to that. Shouto and Tetsu need to be chewed out for being reckless idiots, Honenuki needs to get his props (and also be chewed out), and Aizawa needs to seriously question what the hell Ojiro and Shouji were even doing that entire time

Deku says Iida was really cool out there, and WASN’T HE, THOUGH? he also needs to get lots of props! I should have called it Team IidaRoki because he was the true leader as it turns out. same with Team HoneTetsu

LOL

oh hey there Shouto

you’re not you when you’re hungry

god can you imagine. turns out he went off the fucking tracks like that just because he didn’t have a big enough lunch. forgot to eat his Soba O’s this morning

and it looks like Tetsu is also on his way out, but before he leaves he’s magnanimously telling Shouto that they match may have been a draw, but as far as he’s concerned he lost

meanwhile as far as I’m concerned, you both lost and need psychological evaluations

“let’s do this again sometime” oh jesus. they have learned nothing

time for some IidaRoki bonding!

you’re like fucking lightspeed you maniac. once you learn to control this shit you’ll be the fucking Flash. you’re like the only guy in this fight who actually crushed it, don’t be so hard on yourself kid

Shouto says Iida saved him though. and that he’s the one who screwed up

he says he could have attacked with his fire to begin with, but he’s gotten into a bad habit of opening with an ice attack

should I even bother at this point with the whole pointing-out-that-lethal-attacks-are-bad-for-so-many-obvious-reasons-though thing? I feel like I have more than established my feelings about that by this point. so I’ll just leave it

anyway, he says that Iida was plenty fast and he was the one who was too slow

okay, I don’t know about “slow”, but I am always here for baby Shouto flashbacks, flashbacks of the kids as young children admiring All Might, and moments where the kids decide they want to become heroes who can put everyone at ease! there is so much goodness in this scene, oh my god

IIDA STOP

YOU NEED TO COOL IT WITH THE USUAL HAND GESTURES FOR NOW OMG

does this count as another Hand Crusher incident. Shouto. what say you

anyway so Iida’s looking all thoughtful and renewing his own hero vows

I said vows as a joke but the way he says it really does sound just that formal and rehearsed though, doesn’t it?

LMAO

so as a result of this fight we’ve established that the hierarchy here is Iida = Honenuki > Todoroki. who could have seen this coming

lmao this kid is waaaaaay too fucking modest

well it’s nice to see that everyone is becoming friends

awww

these are good boys. stupid, but good

and now Recovery Girl is kicking them all out

AND YESSSS, NOW IT’S FINALLY THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

THE FOURTH SET!!!

YOU HEARD HIM SATOU SHUT YOUR TRAP!! IF HE SAYS IT’LL WORK IT’LL WORK!

lmao you guys. I don’t know if I’m gonna get much sleep tonight, because Bakugou is gonna have a fight. a real fight. that’s not against six-year-olds

Monoma is also excited!

okay but back-against-the-wall is exactly the type of situation that you never, ever, ever want to be up against Bakugou in

(ETA: he will shoot you in the fucking face.)

Monoma says he’s been looking forward to the 4th set, but unlike me he’s been looking forward to it because of Tokage! I don’t know who Tokage is, but hopefully they’re a good opponent! class B better be bringing that A game now! we don’t like to half-ass our wins!

OH NO

SUDDENLY I AM ALSO ROOTING FOR TOKAGE MAYBE LOL

EXCEPT NO! BECAUSE!!

EXCUSE ME WHAT. “DEKU, JUST WATCH ME”? LISTEN HERE MISTER, YOU CAN’T JUST GET ALL FIRED UP WITH YOUR EXCITED READY-FOR-BATTLE GRIN WHILE THINKING ABOUT DEKU WITHOUT ANY WARNING, YOUNG MAN. YOU WANT DEKU TO SEE HOW COOL YOU ARE, IS THAT IT. YOU CAN’T FUCKING WAIT

DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT ANYONE ELSE WHO’S WATCHING. FORGET SHOWING OFF IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILDHOOD HERO, ALL MIGHT, THE IMPORTANT THING IS THAT DEKU’S WATCHING. and you’ve gone from being annoyed by his constant attention to fucking loving it, haven’t you. who here is the real shithead, though

also, guess who’s also fucking loving this. YEAH, IT’S ME. THAT’S RIGHT

Kacchan’s smiles are fucking contagious. like, this cocky, determined grin of his makes me also somehow feel cocky and determined. that’s some fucking charisma. that’s the type of shit that gets you to the top, kid. omg. let’s do this

[comicbookuniversity]

Game Idea: Spider-Man_Goblin Empire

Introduction

Spider-Man’s the best. He has the most fully realized character and franchise of any superhero in terms of supporting cast (civilian and heroes), villains, and recurring themes that still manage to feel relevant. As a result of the work put into his franchise, Spider-Man has developed a number of heroes who have not seen enough of the spotlight, despite being awesome enough to first appear in his book. I was thinking about the sheer scope of all of the heroes and villains within the Spider-Man franchise, and it occurred to me that there is a game that should be made that could show off the sheer size of it all and be fun as hell. Basically, a squad-based 3rd person combat game; or shorthand- Overwatch with Spider-Man but more story-driven. I call it- Spider-Man: Goblin Empire.

Story and Gameplay

Taking a cue from Dan Slott and Insomniac Games, the story sees a veteran Spider-Man, four or five years into his superhero career, having to organize and lead the heroes of NYC to help the police fight the Goblin Empire and their allies, the Sinister Six. In a swift and impressive display of power and organization, The Goblin King Norman Osborn has managed to block off and gain control of NYC in a single night. He has ambassadors, industry leaders, and celebrities as hostages to leverage against the world as they grapple whether to recognize the hostile takeover of NYC and the sovereignty of his newly proclaimed empire. His Goblin Commanders are going to precincts to ensure that the instill martial law until the Goblin King lays out all of the new laws; many are complying operating under the assumption that compliance is less risky and thus harmful to the citizens than resistance to this overwhelming new power. But others are not, and the resistance is led by Deputy Chief Yuri Watanbe with the support of Spider-Man and the heroes gathered with him. Spider-Man and allies must work to secure the future of NYC from Osborn and Octavius as well as keeping citizens safe from other threats within the city such as the combined forces of Kingpin and Hammerhead, Mister Negative and his Inner Demons, and the ‘neutral’ but greedy Alchemax.

The game will have a more cartoonish over realist visuals and would have single player, co-op, and multiplayer campaign modes as well as different PvP style matches. Players in campaign mode would play through different missions that would move the story forward, but against an internal clock. In single player campaign, you can build a team of up to 3 support NPCs for missions. The goal is to complete certain missions by a certain times within the game or the Goblin Nation becomes official, which represents ultimate failure. There is no particular order in which the missions must be completed, but the series of missions completed will affect the ‘Hope meter’ or measurement of confidence in the rebel forces by the world community as the delay or accept the power of the Goblin Nation. Certain series of missions will create greater hope than others, so the goal is to try to keep the ‘Hope meter’ up as much as possible in order to gain enough time to defeat Osborn.

In the comics or a show, this story might play out with the Goblin Nation being recognized to drive up tension, but within the game this will mean a hard reset of progress. Why? One, because of the challenge of figuring out what order of missions will keep Norman from being recognized as a legit King and the urgency it creates. And two, because Norman wouldn’t negotiate a deal that doesn’t grant him help against ‘rebels’ from other nations, ie America and Canada. ‘Help’ being code for later Avengers and Alpha Flight updates/expansions.

The campaign would not be all that there is to the game. Players could have team deathmatches, king of the hill, escort missions, capture the flag, or control style matches. The maps would be based on the five boroughs of this fictional NYC with each borough having 5-7 maps of varying sizes for different size of teams. All characters, no matter their faction, would be available for play in non-campaign mode. And obviously upgradeable gear and appearances will be available.

Villains would only be playable after the completion of regular campaign, and a new campaign would be available where you play as the villains to defeat the rebels. In the villain campaign, instead of a ‘Hope meter’ there would be a ‘Support Meter’ that measures how many citizens accept Osborn, Octavius, Kingpin, or Mister Negative as their new leader depending on which villain faction you choose to play the campaign as. It would still be the same basic game, but seen from the other side and with a new set of characters with new combat abilities to play with.

Factions

With the goal of showing off how big and awesome the Spider-Man franchise really is beyond the main man, I decided the golden rule for who gets to be a playable character is that they must have first appeared in a Spider-Man title. This being the first game, I decided that I wanted to go big, but there are some exceptions. That all being said, here are the following playable factions.

Rebels:

1. Spider-Man (Parker)

2. Spider-Man (Morales)

3. Araña

4. Prowler

5. Silver Sable

6. Puma

7. Cardiac

8. Jackpot

9. Ghost Spider

10. Agent Venom

11. Black Cat

12. Silk

13. Rocket Racer

14/15. Cloak and Dagger

16. Solo

17-21: The Slingers (Dusk, Prodigy, Hornet, and Ricochet)

22. Alpha

23. Rumor

The rebels are supported by NYPDR, New York City Police Department Resistance.

Kingpin’ Syndicate:

1.Hammerhead

2.The Spot

3.Molten Man

4.Shocker

5.Tinkerer

6. Hydroman

They are supported by their combined Maggia criminal battalions.

Mister Negative's Shadow Captains

1. Overdrive

2. Big wheel

3. Tarantula

3. Screwball

4. Tombstone

5. Shriek

Backing up the Shadow Captains are the Inner Demons.

Sinister Six

1. Doc Ock

2. Vulture

3. Mysterio

4. Rhino

5. Kraven

6. Sandman

Ock-bots of various size and firepower roam the city and support either Goblins or members of the Sinister Six; Sixers are first priority protection over Goblins.

Goblin Commanders

1. Hobgoblin (Leeds)

2. Menace (Hollister)

3. Dark Goblin ( Urich)

4. Goblin Knight (Harry)

Goblin foot soldiers are known as Greys, because of the tint of their skin with the modified formula they have. The Greys are not as strong or well equipped as the Commanders, but they are formidable and can easily toss over a police precinct if left unchecked.

Neutral-ish: Alchemax and Alistaire Smythe

They are supported by Alchemax security and Spider-Slayer drones. They may or may not assist the player depending upon what missions have been completed and where the ‘Hope Meter’ is at.

Assorted Notes:

I think Agent Venom needs a new look. I’m not sure what direction to go necessarily, but a new look would be good. I’m also thinking not strictly military; could be a SWAT dude beforehand. I will give further consideration to this development.

Flashback narrative sequences would be achievable after related missions to help flesh out backstory. Basically, these would be 1-4 minute stories, and hypothetically, I’d like one for each character. That would clearly take some time to work out; possibly released as updates depending upon development.

I think it would be fun to have a single player fighting game style mode as well, but I’m uncertain if that would be with launch or a new expansion.

I think a larger Symbiote and/or Clone expansion is definitely in the future. Those could be tied together narratively, or more likely, done as two different expansions. The Clone expansion could even be tied into a Spider-Island style narrative, but that’s just speculative for the moment. I’ll need to think of something more for those expansion ideas.

I do think the larger Marvel Universe exists, but I wouldn’t even mention them within the first game or within the first couple of expansions to keep with showing off the Spider-Man breadth and depth.

I’ve avoided different universe/timeline versions of characters for now, but that could be a whole sequel.

*

This is my vision as succinctly as can be put without making the actual game. Hope you enjoy the idea as much as I did.

[thetirisfaltheatretroupe]

[Script Archive] Hellthreequel: The Third One

<<The following is a play that has been retired from the Tirisfal Theatre’s library, and will only reoccur for private events for the foreseeable future. This script has been placed here so that those who enjoyed the play or wish to perform it themselves may do so. Credit for this comedic performance goes to the Tirisfal Theatre Troupe>>

<Scroll to the bottom for trivia about this play, as well as our original poster!>

<CAST: Garrosh Hellscream, Wrathion, Kairozdormu, Grom Hellscream, Kargath Bladefist, Durotan, Blackhand, Ner’zhul, Kil’rogg Deadeye, Gul'dan, Mar’gok’s Emissary>

<Thrall enters the stage and bows, then begins the opening narration>

[Thrall]: Hellscream… <he shakes his head.> If ever there was a greater mistake for a Warchief, I cannot possibly think of it.  

He escaped justice in Pandaria and fled to an alternate reality, where he was eventually found building an army from the Horde of the past in a land my people.. thought they would never see again.

<he runs a hand down his beard and looks down a moment before looking back to the audience.>

Yet.. was it fate, I wonder, that brought him down before this army could do any real damage?

Or was it just that they were all so very -stupid-?

Ladies and gentlemen, the final chapter in the Hellsqueal trilogy: Hellthreequel: The Third One! Enjoy!

<he bows and leaves the stage>

<The scene opens with Garrosh and Kairoz arriving in a ‘flash of light’ to Nagrand’> <NOTE: Invisibility potion before entering the stage, get in position, and as soon as said ‘flash’ effect happens, cancel the invisibility buff and begin> [Wrathion]: BEHOLD! What our discoveries upon the Timeless Isle have yielded! Through the chaos of the twisting nether, we have warped time and space itself, and created a branch on the tree of time that bore fruit! This fruit…DRAENOR! Uncorrupted. Untainted! Ripe with a powerful race of orcish legends to face off against the Burning Legion itself! [Garrosh]: <scratches his head> Wait a sec, who the Thok are you?

[Wrathion]: Why, I am the one who DOUBTLESSLY crafted this ingenious plan to spirit you away to this alternate timeline! Son of Deathwing and SAVIOR of Azeroth!

Your military charisma will sow the seeds of a grand new Horde! One that will surely be strong enough to square off against the Burning Legion!

[Garrosh]: …so we’re planting a garden? [Kairoz]: <turns to Wrathion> I hate you so very, very much for this. [Wrathion]: Oh what, you think you could come up with a better plan? [Kairoz]: Actually, yeah. I do. Because you’re incompetent. And he’s incompetent. [Garrosh]: Actually, I’m just hungry. This wobbly wibbly wimey timey stuff is murder on the old gut – got anything to eat? Not big on fruit.

[Wrathion]: Look, maybe Garrosh has a point here, Kairoz. Perhaps we are all simply…hungry.

<wrathion claps his hands together>

Yes. I’ll go and get us something to eat, then we can discuss our plan over our meal and a game of charades. Won’t that be FUN? [Kairoz]: It’s really difficult to take the son of Deathwing the Destroyer seriously when your voice cracks that high. [Wrathion]: I’ll just…<points off stage> Go grab us some sandwiches or something… You two have at it for a bit. <walks off stage, sulking> [Kairoz]: <turns to Garrosh> Alright, punk. Listen up. You’re obviously an idiot and a blow hard who can’t be reasoned with. But I need you to throw a wrench into Wrathion’s plan. [Garrosh]: Well, I mean…I guess I could. Only problem is uh…

[Kairoz]: <raises an eyebrow> Well? What seems to be your malfunction, Hellsqueek?

[Garrosh]: Hey, that’s Hellsqueal…I mean Scream! [Kairoz]: And that’s the title drop.

[Garrosh]: Whoa whoa, leave the fourth wall alone! It’s been through enough! [Kairoz]: Answer my question already. What is your issue with me? [Garrosh]: </rudes> Well, I just don’t like your FACE! [Kairoz]: The feeling is mutual, Hellmoan. But I have an idea that I think will work out better than Wrathion’s. Best part is, it’s something even you can’t screw up, BECAUSE it involves you screwing up! Would you be interested? [Garrosh]: Hrm…screwing things up IS what I do best. And momma Hellscream always told me to stick to what you know. What the Thok, I’ll do it!

[Kairoz]: Grand. All you need to do, is deliver a very important message to your father, Grom Hellscream. I-- [Garrosh]: My father? <sobs> MY FATHER IS DEEEEAD! WAH HAH HAH! [Kairoz]: No, no he’s not. Not in this era. [Garrosh]: Wait, huh? Daddy lives?! OH! OH THAT’S GREAT!

We’re gonna go fishing, kick a few gnomes off of cliffs, we’re gonna go Mechano-hog riding, and then we can go to the Darkmoon Faire and ride the little sandbox tigers together! Ooooh, oh oh and camp the Darkmoon Deathmatch too! Oh this is gonna be a great day! [Kairoz]: No no, listen. You need to tell him that everyone on the other side of the Dark Portal is in cahoots with the Burning Legion.

[Garrosh]: Wait, so you’re telling me to tell my dad, who in this era is still a primitive orc from a time when we were neck deep in superstition and so easily fell for the Burning Legion’s lies that the entirety of Azeroth is the demons…

..thus throwing both worlds into an inter-dimensional and inter-space time conflict that could result in...

...thousands of pointless deaths on both sides, repeat the same shit that corrupted my people in the first place, and paint my father once more as a villain in the eyes of history? [Kairoz]: Um… well…yes. Actually. <clears his throat>

That was astonishingly well phrased, Hellmumble.

[Garrosh]: What was well phrased? [Kairoz]: What you just said. [Garrosh]: What did I just say? [Kairoz]: That…that bit about how you telling your father that they are agents of the legion is-- [Garrosh]: <breaks into sobs> DADDY IS DEEEEEAD! Wahaha! [Kairoz]: <sighs heavily> Look, we’re going full circle again. Are you in, or are you out? [Garrosh]: <sniffs and dries his tears> I’m in. [Kairoz]: Good, good. Then remember that no matter what Wrathion says, you’re still to-- [Garrosh]: <turns away> On second thought, I’m out. [Kairoz]: …okay then, perhaps you’d rather-- [Garrosh]: Nevermind, definitely in. <nods> [Kairoz]: Dammit, Garrosh, you’re not a freakin’ cat. [Garrosh]: Fine, fine. I’ll go along with your plan, Kel’thuzad. [Kairoz]: It’s…Kairoz. Kairozdormu. How did you get Kel’thuzad out of―nevermind. Alright, let’s shake on it. Put ‘er there. <holds out his hand> [Garrosh] Okay! <slams his axe into Kairoz’s chest> Oooh! OH! Oops, sorry, I thought you meant―ohhhh… [Kairoz]: You…freaking…nimrod… [Garrosh]: Oh sheesh, that’s a lot of blood. Oh um… Better uh…get out of here before that Wrathion kid comes back. Um…so yeah, we’ve got a deal and uh…take care of yourself. I gotta split.

[Kairoz]: UGggh…

[Garrosh]: UM! I MEAN! I have to cut this short―

[Kairoz]: Aggh…

[Garrosh]: WAIT NO! Let me just get to it, chop-chop-- [Kairoz]: JUST LEAVE ME ALONE TO DIE! PLEASE! NO MORE PUNS! [Garrosh]: Sheesh, no wonder they axed your character so early. Alright, time to go get a slice of vengeance. <exits the stage> [Kairoz]: In my dying moments…what have I unleashed upon the universe? Am I but a cogwheel in the mechanisms of time, forever obscured and greyed upon the golden backdrop? Or did I serve as the spark that lit the flame? Time will tell. Time. Will. Tell. <dies> <Wrathion enters the stage with 2 hoagies in his hand> [Wrathion]: Alright, I was out of tuna, but I did manage some extra Elwynn ham while we were packing the picnic basket. Nothing says teamwork like a team lunch and― <he spots Kairoz’s corpse and drops the sandwiches> By my father’s monolithic chin! What the Thok happened here?!? <he looks side to side, shrugs, and stuffs Kairoz’s corpse in some bushes> Better get out of here, I am NOT going to be taking the fall for this one! <sneaks off stage> <END SCENE>

<Thrall returns to narrate>

[Thrall]: Wrathion was never found. At least, I think.

Garrosh found himself in a strange and yet familiar world, where Draenor was whole, and yet nothing seemed the same as it were.

Thinking himself above Kairozdormu’s plans, he located the Warsong Clan, after stumbling stupidly in the wilderness for some time.

His… sense of direction was never the best... You could put him in a room and tell him to move forward and he'd probably fall straight into the ground instead.

Soon, he stood before Grommash Hellscream, the Chieftan of the Warsong Clan, and..

His own father. However, as he would soon learn, the strangest thing about this world..

Was yet to be revealed. <Thrall leaves. Next scene opens with Garrosh kneeling before Grom> [Garrosh]: Wha…huh? Where am I? I feel like we’re missing some context here. [Grom]: Well, stranger, to better explain your current situation, you um… kind of happened to burst into my Warsong War Tent, screaming something about your father, then you collapsed, woke up, and repeated the cycle. Twice. [Garrosh]: Huh? OH! Oh wait wait, Warsong? I’M Warsong! We’re totally like…family or something! [Grom]: Uh..wait, hold on a moment. I need to get my glasses. [Garrosh]: Glasses? [Grom]: Mhm. One moment. <Grom reaches into his loincloth and puts a monocle on>

There we are. Now I can see you perfectly. Ah, you have the markings of the Warsong upon you. That’s uh…very good. Very, very good. Now we can spare a few expenses with the cleanup since we don’t have to eviscerate you. <Grom turns and waves off stage> False alarm, boys. You can uh…put the mops away. <he returns his focus to Garrosh> Anyway, you’re no Warsong I’ve ever seen. Hrm. Hope you, ahem, have a good reason for being here. [Garrosh]: <rises> Hrm…uh…oh, I had something tell you. It was kind of important. OH! Right! Demons! [Grom]: Care to be a little more specific there? [Garrosh]: Yeah uh…demons and uh. Something about blood, and a really bad drink.

And then there’s this portal that…things come out of. Oh, and there’s this awesome planet called Azeroth that has like tons of resources and stuff you can take to empower the clans to fight against the demons. [Grom]: Hum. I can uh…tell you’re not exactly the…brightest of individuals, but let me see if I can piece together your story.

You’re telling me that there is another world inhabited by demons or demon associates, rich with resources and land, and to unite the clans in order to seize control of this world for the betterment of our people…

…and prepare for the possibility of an invasion from said demons? [Garrosh]: …wait is that what I said? [Grom]: And a bad drink. Well, Gul’dan did send me a missive about some kind of destiny earlier, perhaps that has something to do with him. We’ll deal with that later. Seems like we’ve got a bit of work to do. [Garrosh]: We do? [Grom]: You’re ...kind of a boneheaded little guy, aren’t you? If what you’re saying is true, and considering the chain of events that have unfolded recently, I’d say it’s time indeed to unite the clans.

I uh…have a job for you if you’re willing. [Garrosh]: <throws his hands in the air> Why does everyone want me to do jobs for them? Huh? What ever happened to people getting jobs from ME? [Grom]: I promise not to berate you on your enormous jaw line if you promise to stop whining. [Garrosh]: DEAL! [Grom]: Good. Then I need you to come with me. We’re going to gather the clans, starting with the Shattered Hand. <walks off stage> [Garrosh]: <stands there and picks his nose> My jawline isn’t bad…it’s just big enough to block a few dozen arrows. [Grom]: You uh..might want to get your ass in gear. [Garrosh]: <grumbles> Coming! Sheesh, way you boss me around already you’d think you were my dad or something. <They leave, next scene starts> <The next scene begins narrated by the narrator. Grom and Garrosh approach a hut with Kargath Bladefist sitting in front of it. Thrall bows and begins narrating the scene> [Thrall]: And so it was, The grand idiot Hellscream and his father, whom he was too stupid to realize at the time was in fact his father, made their way to the home of  legendary Kargath Bladefist.

Kargath was the most fierce gladiator of the Highmaul coliseum and chieftain of the Shattered Hand, a clan that was known to be...pretty savage. What Garrosh didn’t know was that this would be the beginning of a journey ridden with harsh trials, actual effort, and strange otherworldy accents. Hrm…why does that sound so familiar? <Narrator shrugs and leaves the stage> [Grom]: Alright, Garrosh. I’d like you to let me do the talking, if you don’t mind. [Garrosh]: Wait, then why did you even need me to come here? I could have been watching my goblin soaps―erm… I mean, crushing our enemies! [Grom]: That’s uh…well and good, but I need to be able to point to you when Kargath asks me who this prophet who informed me of this ‘Azeroth’ is. You understand. [Garrosh]: What’s an Azeroth? [Grom]: …I’m uh, just going to give you the benefit of the doubt and presume you hit your head as a child. [Garrosh]: Yeah, that’s probably for the best, not gonna lie. [Grom]: Hm. Well. Anyway. <turns to Kargath>

Lok’tar, chief of the fearsome Shattered Hand. I’ve come to you with dire news. Gul’dan plans to betray us at the summit. [Bladefist]: <grunts and rises to his feet, speaking in a deep, gravelly tone> Well that’s pretty Thokin’ savage of him. Just, y’know, not in the cool way.

Not surprised though, guys was always kinda a giant ogre sack. Uh…oh yeah, speaking of… who the hell is the walking phallus? <gestures to Garrosh> [Grom]: Oh, him. Uh. He’s the uh…prophet that came from another time and place to warn me of Gul’dan’s treachery. [Bladefist]: And you’re just gonna uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…roll with that, right? [Grom]: That would be the plan. Yes. [Bladefist]: <takes a deep breath> Yeaaaah I'm not gonna lie, this sounds like the kind of crap Ner’zhul would make up. Not really you, Grom, never really pegged ya for a uh… for an ordinary Grokoff like that. But hey, I’m always up to kick some ass. That’s doable. [Garrosh]: …hey uh…can I pull you aside real fast here? [Grom]: I’m kind of busy, Garrosh, can it wait?

[Garrosh]: NO! [Grom]: <sighs> One moment, Kargath. [Bladefist]: Naaah, it's whatever, not like I was doing anything with my day.

Hey, I’ll go get the rest of the guys while you deal with this giant clefthoof pile. We’ll all meet you at the Warsong place with that big ass campfire indoors, maybe dice up a coupla ogres and give it a paint job. <waves and walks off stage> [Grom]: Alright, what? [Garrosh]: So uh…not sure if you noticed. Really don’t want to alarm you but… [Grom]: But? [Garrosh]: <points in the direction Kargath walked in> That guy’s only got one arm. [Grom]: …yeah? [Garrosh]: It’s gross! In my Horde, we’d just execute the weak and injured who couldn’t fight to my standards. Well, that assumes I had standards, but…point stands. [Grom]: I uh…assure you, Garrosh, Kargath is definitely the kind of chief we would benefit from the favor of. That, and he’s a grand warrior, I can assure you. As for your ‘Horde’, well, I guess we can see why you’re here, now. There comes a time when we need to learn from our mistakes and iron them out. <turns away> Iron. Iron. Hm… Iron.

Horde. Iron Horde, okay, someone write that down. <walks off stage> [Garrosh]: <stops in his tracks> …but…it was my idea. I should get to name it. <walks after him> <Scene ends> <The next scene opens with Garrosh and Grom gathered before all the Warlords> [Bladefist]: So I went out and gathered these Grokoffs while you two were busy makin’ out or something, buncha time wasting pieces of…pieces of shit. [Grom]: Good. That should allow us to get a start on the task at hand. Garrosh, I want you to meet my fellow chieftans. You already know Kargath. [Bladefist]: Bite me, gronn scrotum. [Grom]: Over here we have Chief Blackhand. He leads the Blackrock clan. [Blackhand]: Ands I haves the most sexiests accents of any orcs. [Garrosh]: …why does he sound like that goblin I ordered pandaren food from and tipped with a booterang to the head? [Grom]: Kilrogg Deadeye, lord of the jungle and the Bleeding Hollow. [Kilrogg]: Eeh, more like lord of the deence reely, not much for lordin’ over mosquitoes and stuff. Suckin’ all the blood outta them veens of mine, really bites when yer tryin’a geet a buzz. [Grom]: Here is Durotan, lord of the frostwolf clan of Frostfire Ridge. [Durotan]: <in a REALLY high pitch voice> Ifs yous gots an ass, I’LL KICKS IT! [Garrosh]: Hey, you sound like Blackhand sorta. Cept really squeaky! Are you two brothers or something?

[Both Blackhand and Durotan]: Nos relations.

<Both of them stare at one another for a moment and blink> [Blackhand]: Stops copies mes. [Durotan]: No yous stops copies MES! [Blackhand]: You stops copies MES, you bigs boar piles! [Durotan]: Wells you knows whats they says, immitamations ams the best forms of flatteries, so I guess yous ams just beings really nices to mes. [Garrosh]: …wow. And here I thought I talked like a moron. I can forsee this getting annoying really quickly. [Grom]: Now that we’ve uh…done role call, I think now we should move on to the most important matter at hand. Gul’dan is-- [Ner'zhul]: AHEM! [Garrosh]: I think the wind just talked. [Grom]: Hrm. Oh, of course. I completely forgot. That’s Ner’zhul. Shadowmoon chieftan. Anyway, as I was say-- [Ner'zhul]: Oh thok you, sthtuck up ath-hole! I’m tha betht there ith at thhhhadow magic, so fathe it – you need me. [Garrosh]: <wipes off his face> He spat on me like three times just trying to say shadow. [Kilrogg]: Must be a new experience, meeting someone dumber’n you, eh big guy? <nudges Garrosh> [Garrosh]: Yeah, how does it feel Kargath? [Bladefist]: <grunts> Go uh…jump of a damn cliff or something, I dun really care, whatever… [Grom]: Let’s uh…remember why we’re here now. We’ve got to focus, boys. Gul’dan plans to deceive us at the summit coming up.

We need to teach him that nobody, um, pardon my language, ‘thoks’ with our people and gets away with it.

Make an example out of him. Honestly, it’s the best move, considering if we don’t, he’s likely to cause…utter panic and havoc anyway. [Ner'zhul]: Ugh…Gul’dan things he’s shoooo cool with his fancy green magic and thtuff. [Bladefist]: Yeah but uh…that shit ain’t easy to deal with. Like uh…it burns.

Pretty bad. Y’know, like…fire or something. [Blackhand]: Yeahs, excepts the fires cans actually damages me! I used to haves a full heads of hairs, then I calleds hims a rylakk's flacid you-know-whats. Then IT HURTS MES! [Durotan]: And its ams nots the best ways to cooks your boar meats. I trieds once and gots a tummys aches. I does nots recommends its, unless you likes your meats super spiced.

[Garrosh]: Oh, OH OH! I have a plan! I have a plan! [Grom]: Well, considering your insight into the future, Garrosh, I would say you have the best chance at coming up with a successful plan. I’ll uh…put my faith in you for this one. [Garrosh]: Yeah, it’s gonna be great! No no, just follow my lead, okay? Every last one! First, we build giant…

Metal…

Balls! [Bladefist]: …yeah, this plan’s already sounding thokkin’ stupid, but I ain’t got nothing better to do this afternoon.

<end scene>

<The narrator comes on stage>

[Thrall]: Garrosh then told them of the technology he’d amassed in his rule over Orgrimmar. He spent days and days trying to figure out how they worked – until finally, he found the power switch... It was then that he knew just what he had to do. And on that fateful night, when the orcs were supposed to be corrupted by the demon blood offered by Gul’dan, the very same that plagued my people, something quite different happened than what history originally foretold! <Thrall leaves the stage> <The scene opens with Grom and Garrosh walking to the summit together. Garrosh is wearing a cloth hood> [Grom]: I’ve been uh…meaning to ask. Why? [Garrosh]: Huh? Oh, why the sexy hood? It’s to make me look mysterious and build up my musk and sweat. [Grom]: Neither of those applications seem very well thought out. How do you think that’s going to help us in the fight against Gul’dan? [Garrosh]: It’s supposed to help? [Grom]: Nevermind. He’s already here. I can smell him from where I stand. [Garrosh]: Huh? Oh, that’s just me. I haven’t taken a bath since before the last play we did. [Grom]: Well, we’ll uh…have to have a chat about that later. Here he is…in all his unholy, befouled foolishness. <The sky rains green fire and Gul’dan appears in a blaze of fel glory> [Gul'dan]: Whoohoooo! I’m Gul’dan, the Lock and Roll orc! I TAINT ARCAAAAANE! [Garrosh]: He puts his taint on a cane? That’s gotta hurt. [Grom]: No, he taints arcane. From what you told me, that’s what this ‘fel’ is, right? Honestly, it sounds a bit easier to roll off the tongue, so we’ll have to patent that.

[Garrosh]: Nah, for some reason I like “I taint arcane”! Lets me get to know the guy better! Like what his hobbies are. Do you think he likes playing cards?

[Grom]: Let’s make this quick. What do you want from us, Gul’dan? [Gul'dan]: <approaches Grom and Garrosh> Kek kek kek kek yayeah, I just want you to drink this here green stuff and join my army of the depraved and fel touched! I TAINT ARCAAAANE! [Garrosh]: We heard you the first time, and that STILL sounds uncomfortable as hell! [Grom]: Well uh, let’s consider the ups and the downs. From what you told me, Gul’dan, this drink will give us phenomenal strength and power. [Gul'dan]: That’s kek kek kek kek right, baby! C’mon and join the legion – we got all sorts of demon hunnies here to cuddle with when you’re rulin’ over creation! <walks up to Garrosh and whispers> Seriously, man, LOTTA arcane! Turns ya all green and stuff! [Garrosh]: Just call it fel! It SOUNDS cooler than a cane’s taint! [Grom]: Hrm. Great power. Power is something all orc legends have, this is true, BUT…what, Gul’dan, do we have to give in return? [Gul'dan]: Aw, it ain’t much baby. Just a lil’ bit of…

KEK KEK KEVERY THING! [Grom]: Huh. Well, I was afraid of that. Judging by the uh…unfair and one sided contract involved with being enslaved to a force of universal tyrants, I believe it is in the Iron Horde’s best interest to refuse your offer.

[Garrosh]: Hrmph. I liked Garrosh’s Horde better… [Gul'dan]: Awww, come on, baby! You know you wannaaaaa! [Grom]: No. And if you call me baby one more time, what we do to you next will hurt a lot more. [Gul'dan]: What do you kek kek kek mean? [Garrosh]: <turns off stage> NOW! <Kargath, Blackhand, Durotan, Ner’zhul, and Kilrogg all come on stage and encircle Gul’dan, then begin beating him up>

NOTE: All target him and use ‘the pigskin’ in close proximity to make it look like they're beating him up> [Kilrogg]: Teek that ya green arse! [Blackhand]: Yous ams nots my REAL DADS! [Durotan]: This ams for the wolves, you big bloated broccolis! [Ner'zhul]: Yeah, and don’t forget who thent ya runnin home to yer mother! [Grom]: Alright, boys, that’s enough. Load him into the Iron Canon. [Gul'dan]: <twitching> Kek kek kek whaaaa?! No no no, anything but the canon, baby! I’ll do anehthing! <they walk Gul’dan over to the appointed ‘canon fire’ spot and Gul’dan gets loaded up. NOTE: Gul'dan actor must have obtained Darkmoon Cannon toy) (Additional Note: Canon is mispelled on purpose, explanation in Trivia)> [Ner'zhul]: FIRE IN THE THOKING HOLE! [Gul'dan]: THIS WAS NOT OUR KEK KEK DESTINYYYYYYYYYYYY! <gets fired out of the play area> [Garrosh]: Yes! My plan worked! My plan that I so carefully cooked up! NO ONE could have thought to shoot Gul’dan out of a cheap canon! I’m such a genius! [Kilrogg]: <grumbles> Anyone else wanna fire dis guy outta one’a dem canons too? [Durotan]: I mean sortas, cuz WOW-WEE he’s a dingbat. [Grom]: Boys, boys. Stop. No more fighting, okay? We should celebrate this union of the clans overcoming Gul’dan’s treachery.

Oh, and uh…Ner’zhul, gonna need you to retrieve his unconscious body wherever he lands. We kind of still need it to rip over a dimensional gateway through time and space. [Ner'zhul]: Thoking theriouthly? Thith blowths… <Ner'zhul exits in the direction Gul'dan was fired> [Grom]: Now let’s all go and celebrate our success with a big barrel of cherry grog. Then afterwards, discuss how we move forward. [Kilrogg]: Eh, sounds kinda borin, but…there’s booze involved so count me in I guess. <the warlords all leave the stage, except Garrosh> [Garrosh]: <sighs heavily> Me me…<sigh> Pick me... <walks after them, unenthused> <end scene> <The next scene opens with the Warlords all at a meeting of the minds…or lack of minds, rather> [Grom]: Alright, so brainstorming session. How can we drive the Iron Horde war machine ever forward? Let's toss some ideas around, chop chop. Let's move.

[Ner'zhul]: Well I think we should justh call the Dark Sthtar, kill them all and enslave their SOULS--!

[Bladefist]: Damn it Ner'zhul, we told you to close your mouth when you speak, Thokin spitting everywhere...

[Blackhand]: Yeah, no ones really gives a shits anyways, Ner'zhuls. Why ams you even HERES?

[Durotan]: I gives a shits!

[Blackhand]: You takes a shits ams more likes it.

[Bladefist]: Yeah, you...<grumble> Damn tryhard, always trying too hard and shit...

[Kilrogg]: Oh wait, now that I theenk of it, Kargath, you had a friggin' awesome idea earlier, deedn't ya?

[Bladefist]: Huh? Oh, oh, yeah I was just thinking that...if I we like all had blades or something for hands, we wouldn't be disarmed, uh...yknow?"

[Blackhand]: Jah, likes I coulds puts my hammers on my hands and I could go FWOOSH BOOM BURN CRUNCH, TAKES THAT IMPREGNATORS MAR'GOK!"

[Durotan]: Oooh, ands Is coulds puts myselfs an extra axe on my hands whats could helps me chops firewood without havings to hauls it around likes a dead animals!

[Bladefist]: Yeah like, you wouldn't have to Idunno, pick it up or whatever cuz it's always there.

[Ner'zhul]: Yeah but--

[Blackhand]: No one CARES, NERZ'ZHULS! <chucks a prop at him (NOTE: Tree trinket from Stormheim is perfect for this – no one expects it>

[Grom]: Boys, I've told you this before. We cannot replace all of your limbs with blades. Oh, and they're right, Ner'zhul, no one really cares.

[Ner'zhul]: Thok…

[Bladefist]: Aw come ooooooon, why nooooot?

[Grom]: Because then you wouldn't be able to walk or pick things up.

[All of Them]: ....soooooooooooooooooooooooooo?

[Garrosh]: Alright, I've got a better idea. What if we all...just focus entirely on making tons of single use, really expensive and time consuming to construct and barely better than a large catapult explosive Iron Stars?

[Grom]: Hum...I...hardly think that would be an efficient use of resources, especially when you brought over schematics for far more uh...impressive machines.

[Bladefist]: Look, Grom, we'll make a deal with you.

We promise to stop asking to have weapons grafted onto our limbs - except for me, because I'm above all this - IF...you make all those Thokin’ Iron Stars, cuz that sounds savage as thok. Only good idea he's come up with, really.

And...OOH OOH, make a big ass canon too that we can fire it out of!

[Grom]: Um...sure, I suppose a massive canon and siege carrier of some sort could be made. It would certainly help bringing along our various turrets and--

[Bladefist]: No no, see, that's the best part - make this thing ONLY a big canon to shoot Iron Stars with.

And like, make it only go forward, so when people see it coming, they're like "Ooooooh. Ooooh noooooo! Everythiiiing in this general direction is screwwwwwwed!"

[Grom]: Look, if you allow me to have a few smaller defensive canons mounted to it, will you shut up about it?

<The Warlords all nod>

[Durotan]: Hey, cans I names it in that case? I wants to names it after my mothers wolves whats dieds when I was just a boys.

[Grom]: Fine, what was the wolf's name?

[Durotan]: Worldsbreakers.

[Blackhand]: You ams lyings, your wolfs had pansy ass name like White fangs or some shits!

[Durotan]: Hey don'ts you calls hims that you big melting rlyak dongs! I'LL KILLS YAS!

[Kilrogg]: I dunno, I kinda like Worldbreeker and stuff. But can we paint fleemin' stripes all over it and stuff?

[Garrosh]: I'd prefer the name "Garrosh's Idea". Since it was MY idea!

[Bladefist]: Hell no! We may as well call it the Grokoff's left nut if we're gonna do that.

[Ner'zhul]: HYEAH! Or the Pain in my Asth!

[Grom]: Garrosh, perhaps you should let me have the floor. [Garrosh]: But it's MY IDEA!

[Grom]: <points off-stage> You've done enough, now go.

[Garrosh]: <cries and walks away, stomping his feet and throwing a fit> Was MY idea! MINE! Nobody talks that way to me, ARGH! <kicks a marmot into the crowd, use marmot toy from Valley of the Four Winds>

[Kilrogg]: Gee there, you...kinda think we hurt tha poor guys' feelings?

[Bladefist]: Are you kidding me? That douchebag's been nothing but whine whine whine since he first showed up. Build a portal thiiiiis, unite the clans thaaaat, waaah waaah waaah!

[Grom]: Hrm. Well, to be fair, you guys, without Garrosh, none of this would be happening right now.

[Blackhand]: Yes, but withouts Garrosh nows we can actually takes the plans and makes it GOODS! I did not sees him suggests anythings after the Worldbreaker that woulds have covereds the glaring flaws it hads!

[Durotan]: OH, wow-wees! You guys ams usings my name ideas after alls? <gasp>

Oooh I'm so happyyyys!

[Bladefist]: Look, bottom line and I'm gonna level with you...<pauses and throws his arms to the side, the Bladefist prop flying into the crowd>

We can't work with this dildo! He smells like he came out of a clefthoof's asshole, tries to turn good war plans into shit war plans, has this fetish for giant steel balls of flaming glory, and he keeps drinking the Thokin kafa!

[Grom]: We wouldn't even be having this conversation right now if not for Garrosh. Now look around you and see this? See this Iron Horde we've made?

It's all because of him. Now I suggest you all be mature and not try to screw things up. We still need his help.

<Ner'zhul opens his mouth to speak>

[Grom]: And no, Ner'zhul, you're not more useful than he is. I suggest you reflect on that for a moment and think about what you were about to say.

[Ner'zhul]: ....THHHHHHHHHHHHHHOK!

<end scene> <Thrall enters the stage, with Garrosh moping by the edge> [Thrall]: Garrosh finally came to a grim realization that…No one liked him! <He shrugs.> …well, it was a realization to -him-, you must understand. Garrosh sat all alone with pitiful self under the skies of Nagrand, until he was soon joined by his father. There, he realized humility for the first time in his arrogant stupid life. <Thrall bows and leaves> [Garrosh]: <sniff> No one gives me credit for anything anymore. [Grom]: <approaches from off-stage> Garrosh. Mind if we uh…have a little talk? Little man to man, as they say? [Garrosh]: <sniff> No… [Grom]: <sits down next to Garrosh> Look, I understand you came here to warn us of this invading legion, and help us mount a counter-strike out of the honor in your heart. But we’ve got a job to do here. Everyone has to play their part, you hear? [Garrosh]: <sniff> No. [Grom]: Are you just going to say no to everything I say in an attempt to emotionally wall yourself off from what is happening right now? [Garrosh]: …n…ye…maybe.

[Grom]: What I’m trying to say is…despite how hard I've been on you, we need you. So with that said, I’d like to give you a gift for helping us out. [Garrosh]: <sniffle> Is it a pony? [Grom]: A what now? [Garrosh]: Oh, right, see, Azeroth has these things called horsies and there are smaller ones called ponies. I can’t explain why but I REALLY want one.

My own…little…pony. [Grom]: That’s….fascinating. Anyway, no, I want to give you control of the Warsong clan while I act as Warchief of the Iron Horde. [Garrosh]: <eyes widen> You want to appoint me Warchef so I can cook all the delicious food for the Iron Horde? I could be…the IRON CHEF! [Grom]: Ahm, no, not exactly. What I mean is-- [Garrosh]: I ACCEPT! [Grom]: <shrugs> Good enough for me. Alright then, Garrosh, I trust you to lead us to victory. [Garrosh]: Hah, you underestimate me! I’ll be the best Warchef ever! <end scene> <Thrall returns to the stage and bows> [Thrall]: He was not the best Warchef ever. Nor ….Warchief for that matter.

He stayed in Nagrand for many months as the rest of the Iron Horde prepared for war without him. It…did things to him. And he soon regretted his decision. In time, a vangard from the future – that is to say, our timeline - came to bring Garrosh back to Azeroth to face justice. It didn’t exactly end well for Garrosh…

<he pulls out his mace and straightens up> <Thrall bows and enters the stage. Garrosh and Thrall face each other down for the last time> [Thrall]: It is time to answer for your crimes, Garrosh. I’m going to end what I should have ended long ago… [Garrosh]: No. NO NO NO, stop taking credit for everything I do! [Thrall]: …I’ll wait till your impending tantrum is over. [Garrosh]: <points> I am sick of this blame game! Credit where credit is due, this is NOT your fault! It’s mine, ALL MINE! And I love it! [Thrall]: You…hit your head on the way over here, didn’t you? [Garrosh]: <paces back and forth> All these years, I was built up by you, from the moment we met in Nagrand. You told me I was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps. Well guess what?

I DID! And it was all me. [Thra;;]: No, Garrosh. You are not worthy of calling yourself the son of Grom. [Garrosh]: That’s the thing – do you even KNOW what Grom was really like? You practically just met him when you started hailing him as a hero! Spent what, a few weeks with him, tops? See, I’ve gotten to know the real Grom over the past few months. He’s a freakin’ deadpan! Always business, never “Hey son, you wanna go fishing?” and “THOK YEAH I WANNA GO FISHING!” Then he dumped this job on me just to keep me away from the action. Seriously, I haven’t seen a fight in WEEKS!

Just sittin’ here with my thumbs up my ass, ordering around these primitive Warsong warriors who were too stupid to work the tech we’re using in Tanaan! I can’t even get them to clip my thokking toenails properly! WHAT KIND OF BASS AKWARDS PEON CAN’T CLIP TOENAILS?! [Thrall]: …I am…not going to lie, I feel very uncomfortable right now. Should we just…continue this later or…? [Garrosh]: NO! We end this now! And I’m going to slay you. I’M going to be the one to get credit for killing the mighty Thrall! And you’re going to bask in the irony that you made me what I am, dammit! [Thrall]: …so it IS my fault? [Garrosh]: No, it’s mine! [Thrall]: Okay, then there’s not much irony for me to bask in, there. Gonna be honest. [Garrosh]: Fine, then it’s your fault! [Thrall]: No, because you chose your own destiny. [Garrosh]: LA LA LA LA, DON’T CARE, FIGHT TIME! [Thra;;]: Alright, alright. Just to be clear, these are traditional Mak'gora rules, right? Just weapons, no armor, just loincloths, maybe some...oil and low lighting- or…?

<he starts to unbuckle his belt> [Garrosh]: I don’t have TIME to take off my pants! Fight now! [Thrall]: Gotcha! MOCK'gora it is then. <Use Akunda's Firesticks if outdoors around the stage. Otherwise, be creative with this one. A storm opens up around the stage, and Garrosh stares into the sky at it> [Garrosh]: Oh… oh damn, I should have specified… [Thrall]: Any last words, Garrosh? [Garrosh]: <puts up his middle finger> Thok you, and thok the horse you rode in on!

<Garrosh is struck and dies dramatically> [Thrall]: At last.. It is over, the rein of <sniffs the air, gagging > Oh...Oh spirits.…I- BEUGH- made him smell even worse! Now he smells like BURNT worg ass.

Ohh....Ancestors...I need to go over here..

<he walks off to the side to catch his breath.> <Thrall leaves the stage, scene ends> <After the stage has been cleared, Thrall comes onto the stage one final time and bows> [Thrall]: And so...Garrosh’s tale had finally ended. But the legacy he’d set in motion could not be undone.

As the Iron Horde began to lose to the Vangard that followed Garrosh, Grom was meeting with an emissary of the Ogre Empire when he learned of how the Warlords were failing… <Narrator bows and walks off stage. Enter Grom and the Emissary of Mar’gok> [Grom]: Alright, so for Mar’gok’s cooperation prior to his fall, we’ll allow you all to continue hosting those coliseum games so long as you agree to advertise via the Iron Horde’s new logo. I’m thinking of slapping it on every seat in the house. [Ogre Emissary]: Uh…da sorcerers not gonna like dat too much. Dey tink it look dumb... [Grom]: Well you can tell them it was your idea then, and that you already signed the papers for them. Also tell them that if they to improve negotiations in their favor, they should come to these meetings themselves. [Ogre Emissary]: Hrm…OKAY! Sound good! Anything else you need me tell dem? [Grom]: Yes. Tell them to have their forces take baths more often. We’re savage, not animals. Mar’gok would agree if he were alive.

[Ogre Emissary]: Dat sound like bad idea… [Grom]: Again, tell them it was your idea. <Kilrogg bursts into the room> [Kilrogg]: Hey um…theenk ya should see this here report from tha field, Grommy boy. [Grom]: Not now, Kilrogg. I’m in the middle of ogre negotiations. You know how taxing it can be to lower my intelligence enough to negotiate with them. [Ogre Emissary]: HEY! Dat not nice! [Grom]: Well it was your idea, big guy. You uh…may want to just point those fingers at yourself. [Ogre Emissary]: Huh? Oh, me not very nice. [Kilrogg]: Um…just so ya knows then? Blackheend is dead. [Ogre Emissary]: …me sensing lots of tension. Me go now. [Grom]: Hrm. Probably for the best. We’ll continue this another time. <The ogre nods and leaves> [Grom]: So Blackhand fell in battle? [Kilrogg]: Well, in battle aaand about three floors through that feency foundry of his. Can’t tell if he did it himself or someone just hit ‘im REEEEEALLY hard through that there floor of his. [Grom]: Huh. That’s…quite a sizable loss. Without the foundry, we can’t make more weapons. Inform Kargath right away to salvage any weapons we’ve distributed to the Spires of Arak and bring them to our forces in Tanaan.

[Kilrogg]: That’s another thing. He’s uh…dead too. [Grom]: What? Kargath Bladefist? That doesn’t seem plausible. [Kilrogg]: Yeah, died in the arena against some small army. Was like…ten…or thirty people or sumpin like that what took ‘im down. Kinda cool, actually. I was watchin’ the whole thing, was badass. [Grom]: You…watched one of your fellow Warlords die? [Kilrogg]: Yeah? Gotta entertain myself with sumpin, right? [Grom]: Ugh…well maybe we can ask Durotan to-- [Kilrogg]: Oh uh…yeah, about that, shortly after our meetin’, he started having second thoughts about joinin the Iron Horde, and uh…called yas a giant assmelt and left with his middle fingers held high, went beek home. Not gonna lie, I think he was just here for the kickass war banner. We should probably just pretend he was never there. [Grom]: Hrm. Well, that’s not a terrible loss I guess. The others, yeah, but we can survive without the Frostwolf clan. What of Ner’zhul? [Kilrogg]: He’s dead too. [Grom]: Unsurprising. Did he at least die with dignity? [Kilrogg]: Kinda hard to have dignity when you get killed by five grokoffs in your own dimension of void powers. [Grom]: This…this is a pretty unrecoverable loss. Please, allow me a customary moment of silence for my men. [Gul'dan]: <enters> KEK KEK KEK KEK YAYEAH! Gul'dan gonna make ALL your dreams come true, Grom baby! Hows about you guys come and take some of this here sweeeeeeeeet fel blood? Oooooooooooh! <Gul'dan places a cauldron between them (NOTE: Goblin Gumbo toy is best, but flask cauldron or dragon feast works>

[Kilrogg]: OOH, PUNCH! [Grom]: You’ve got to be―who the hell let this guy in?! We told you before, Gul’dan, we don’t want your damned poison! [Kilrogg]: No no, you see man, it’s bloodbooze, gotta get it right. It’s booze made of blood that makes ya all strong and freaky and stuff. [Grom]: I don’t care what it’s called, frankly. Garrosh told us it would enslave us, and-- [Kilrogg]: Oh, yeah, forgot to tell ya uh…he’s dead too. [Grom]: …so you are literally my only high operative in the Iron Horde now? [Kilrogg]: Hey, I uh…I’m just teelin’ it like it ees. [Grom]: <deep breaths and rubs his temple> We’re literally on the cusp of ruin here, and all I have to help is Kilrogg Deadeye. What do you even DO?

[Kilrpgg]: Well I uh…lots of…stuff, I mean I can…do a little jig? Would that make ya happeh? < Kil'rogg /dances>

I mean, I’m great at drinkin’ games. Watch, I’ll prove it! Betcha anything I can chug that bloodbooze no sweat! [Grom]: No, wait, KILROGG DON’T! <Kilrogg takes Gul’dan’s felbood and chugs it>

KILROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGG!!! [Gul'dan]: CHUG CHUG CHUG! Kek kek kek beautiful, baby! [Kilrogg]: <belches fel> See? Wasn’ so beed, just a bit spicy is all, I mean I can hold my liquor. Though I do kinda have this urge to serve Gul’dan now, and the legion. I mean, aside from that, I’m fine. [Grom]: <kneels down> Kilrogg…you idiot. [Gul'dan]: You can’t kek kek kek win, Grom! My fel drink is just too good! I TAINT ARCANE! [Grom]: I have lost…everything. [Gul'dan]: Aww, it’s okay Grommy baby, cuz you still got uuuuuuuus~! [Kilrogg]: Yeah, I mean why not just drink it yourself? This shit feels thokkin’ great, my bulging Bleeding Hollow dangledonger ain’t never felt so big. You gotta try this, it’s…It’s just good, man, try it. <suddenly Ner’zhul appears floating as a ghost> [Ner'zhul]: FINALLY, Got thith plan to thokking work! Now I’m an immortal thpirit and can command the armieth of the DAMNED without ever getting hurt mythelf! It’s a pretty good plan if I do thay though mythelf. [Grom]: <shakes his head at Ner’zhul> Too late, Ner’zhul. Far too late. [Ner'zhul]: <looks over at Kilrogg who grins and waves> Aw THOK no! I did not intentionally die to make mythelf one with the void JUTHT to have thith happen! I’m calling my agent! <floats off stage> [Grom]: I uh…better follow him. I’m his agent’s agent, so… <sneaks away> [Kilrogg]: Huh…hey uh…shouldn’t we go after them? [Gul'dan]: It’s kek kek kek cool, baby! We’ll get ‘em some other time! <walks off stage> I TAINT ARCANE! [Kilrogg]: Hey, works for me. And uh…to all you slackoffs in the audience, I take fan mail in booze-a-grams and vouchers for brew of the month. <Scene ends, all leave the stage>>

<Thrall enters the stage> [Thrall]: And thus ended the tale of Garrosh Hellscream. His charred remains forever forgotten in the place in which is tale began, those many moons ago...

Except in another timeline entirely. One that we will likely never have to see or speak of again..BUT!

His legacy endured. For it was due to him that we fought and bested the Legion, just that it was a lot sooner and lot more costly than we would have hoped!

And as we fight on into the future, Horde, never forget...

<Hellscream suddenly ‘floats’ onto the stage as a ghost and waves then /dances, the narrator points at him>

<Thrall points to Garrosh very sternly and then looks to the audience.> It was his fault! SERIOUSLY! THOK THIS GUY! [Garrosh]: Hey, at least people are going to remember I actually did this one, right? [Thrall]: <facepalms> For the love of....THE. END! THAT’S IT! NO MORE! HELLSQUEAL ONE, TWO, THREEQUEL, NO PREQUEL! NO SPIN OFF, NO VERSION WHERE WE GET TO SEE HOW I'M DOING.WE’RE DONE! THAT’S IT! -SHOOS- IT’S OVER! YOU CAN ALL GO FIGHT NOW! WE’RE DONE, THERE’S NO MORE! THAT’S IT! NADDA! DONE! <Thrall wanders off screen muttering>

[Garrosh]: <looks to the audience and shrugs> Hey, at least I made it interesting, right? Good night, Snorehowl bless, and don’t forget to poke holes in all your rubbers…

Rubber ducks, that is. Thok ducks.

Uh…

<he waves at the crowd>

Later.

<Garrosh’s ghost vanishes (use invisibility potion)> <END>

TRIVIA

Hellthreequel was originally part of Hellsequel, but realizing the play would last far too long and there being more we wanted to do with the courtroom scene, we split the plays. Regardless of this fact, it still took years for us to actually have the cast size needed for this play.

Hellthreequel boasts the largest on-stage cast requirement of any of our plays, with the largest scenes having anywhere between 7-8 characters needed on stage at a time. Some scenes made it impossible to have the proper numbers, so we wrote flexibly in those scenes, such as the first meeting of Gul’dan, so we could drop our numbers when needed.

This play was only ever performed twice. Since we were retiring the first two, however, we felt it would be improper to keep this one around too, since so many jokes build upon references from Hellsqueal and Hellsequel.

In our last run of this play, WoW’s very own in-game cinematics project director Terran Gregory attended the show, and even recorded a portion of the play on his Twitch channel! Needless to say it was a surprising honor!

Many (see; Almost all) of the jokes in Hellthreequel regarding the Warlords was based upon the fictional Death Metal band “Dethklok”, and their show formally on Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim block “Metalocalypse”. The personalities of the main cast of that show were given to each of the Warlords, but we made sure to write them in a way where their banter and lines were still funny out of context. Even the poster, done by @shamanofthewilds much like Hellsequel’s poster, was a reference to it!

Kargath Bladefist was “Nathan Explosion” (Kargath Orcsplosion), the gravelly voiced vocalist of the band.

Durotan was “Toki Wartooth” (Durotoki), the happy-go-lucky animal petting ‘why the hell is he even with these guys’ member of the group.

Blackhanz was “Skwissgar Skwigelf” (Blackhanz). Contrary to some crew member’s confusion as to why the blonde, long haired guitarist of Dethklok would be played by a bald orc, we added a line about how Blackhand used to have hair, which is actually true. Also, Hanz’gar and Franzok kind of opened the gates of hell by introducing out-of-setting accents to the Blackrock clan, so we had fun with it.

Kilrogg Deadeye was “Pickles the Drummer” (Kilrogg the Deadeye), the booze and drug addled drummer and voice of reason, but not by much.

Ner’zhul was “William Murderface”, the bass player. Just based on what he plays, one should gather what the joke was.

Grom was “Charles Offdensen”, the straight-faced, no-nonsense business minded manager of the band.

And of course, Gul’dan was Dr. Rockzo, the rock and roll clown. He does cocaine. 

Speaking of, many of the quirks of Dr. Rockzo’s zany behavior was added to Gul’dan, including his catch phrases, and adapted of course to the WoW setting. “K-k-k (yeah)” became “Kekkekkek”, effectively the same sound, but referencing the in-game language barrier, and “I do cocaine” was changed to “I taint arcane”, since fel is technically tainted arcane energy. That, and “I do fel” didn’t seem to have the same appeal.

Despite these massively out-of-world references, as with any references we put into our plays, we worked hard to make sure they made sense in-character, but also gave ourselves freedom enough to have fun with it. While Hellsequel was Atos’s favorite overall, Threequel remains Atos’s favorite to have written.

[zombiescantfly]

Words About Games - Unreal Tournament 3 (Epic Games, 2007)

Unreal Tournament 3 is nothing short of an utter embarrassment, incompetent at nearly every level, and a gross misunderstanding of a playerbase that was, at the time, nearly a decade old.  I wish I could just leave it at that, but this is the first game I ever felt wronged by.  

This was a franchise killer.  UT3 flopped so hard that it took fans desperate for any sign of a new game ten years to make Epic even consider adding a new entry to the series, and even then it is, as of time of writing, on indefinite hiatus so the handful of developers assigned to it can make more Fortnite dances.  But that comes later.  Unreal Tournament 3 comes first.

The Unreal series was hardly a stranger to hard knocks.  Return to Na Pali was a dull-at-best expansion pack while the much-maligned Unreal 2 missed the point entirely and has since slipped into laughable obscurity, and even the original Unreal Championship on Xbox had to be redeemed with a well-received followup.  I played neither of those, by the way, it's just my understanding that the first one was bad and the second was good.

So what made UT3 the last chance?  What about it was bad enough to kill the franchise that had gone toe-to-toe with Quake and lived to tell the tale?  The real question is what the hell Epic was thinking.

Unreal Tournament 3 lacks a great many things.  At launch, it boasted a meager six gamemodes, and even then only by virtue of splitting 1v1 deathmatch maps off of Deathmatch and into a new category called Duel.  So, our gametypes are: Deathmatch, Team Deathmatch, Duel, Capture the Flag, Vehicle CTF, and Warfare.  That's it.  No Bombing Run, no Mutant, no Invasion, no Domination (double or otherwise), and yet again, for some ungodly reason, no Assault.

I feel like I've done this before.  What else did UT3 leave out?  Facing Worlds!  Yep, it's out again, and this time without a replacement.  That's right, no Face 4 to make up for it.  A new Curse map, a staple of the series since the original Unreal multiplayer, is also missing.  Most of the character factions introduced in UT2003 and 2004 are gone, like the Nightmares, the Robots, the Juggernauts, the Mercenaries, the Gen Mo’kai, the Egyptians, and the Skaarj.  You know, the Skaarj, literally the most important faction to the series at large.  They're gone.  Xan Kriegor, the Big Bad of every Tournament since 1999, the final champ who uses an AI setting above Godlike, who has his own spaceship where the ultimate match is duked out 1v1 in a truly brutal and awesome deathmatch?  Gone.

But that's not the worst of it.  Sure, they stripped out almost everything they'd spent so much time building up throughout character and map descriptions for three games, but even that wasn't enough.  There has to be something else they could take away to really strip the game of its identity.  The Flak Cannon?  No, too easy.  The Shock Rifle?  Almost.  Malcolm, the veteran of all the in-universe Tournaments and arguably the (human) mascot of the series?  I'll do you one better.

They took away the Tournament.

They took away the Tournament.

They took away.

The Tournament.

Unreal Tournament 3 has no Tournament.  

What do we have instead, in Unreal Tournament 3, if not a Tournament?  Calling it Gears of War 1.5 is a good place to start.  

Unreal Tournament never really had a defining artstyle to call its own, but it was still recognizable.  UT99 had its harsh shadows and pockets of bright light on largely cool-colored maps, a very neo-industrial/tech vibe with a smattering of ancient temples thrown in there to call back to Unreal.  UT2003 and 4 turned their tech maps into something a bit shinier overall, left a bit of industrial grunge in, had their fun with future space techno Egypt, and splashed a bit of East Asian architecture in one or two maps for good measure.  Colors were bright, each map had an identifiable pallette, and it's hard to confuse one for the other.

UT3 came out after Gears of War, which means it looked like this:

Not helping matters is the new direction character design was taken, which basically boils down to taking Gears character out of their usual armor and putting them in UT styled suits.  Malcolm’s there and he's put on about 200 pounds of muscle.

Man, just look at all those graphics.  And it's a good thing there are so many, because otherwise how would we know what we're looking at when the dramatic cutscenes play?

Because since we have no Tournament in our Unreal Tournament game, we of course have to have a very dramatic story about a Krall invasion and this guy named Ronin’s quest to get revenge.  

Let's unpack that.

The Krall invaded.  The Krall, the mercenary/slave race kept on retainer by the Skaarj, are the primary antagonists, but not the Skaarj themselves.  Ronin, an entirely new character made for this game, is the primary focus when actual series (human) mascot Malcolm is right there.  And the whole thing is a heroic revenge story, not a Tournament.

I hate this game.

So UT3 forces a series of ladder matches across all of three gametypes into a narrative nobody asked for.  If it had had anything to with the series’ history, it probably could have been acceptable, but it doesn't mean anything as it is.  Matches are now short gameplay segments in between an overproduced narrative about revenge and retribution, and they're given wholly unnecessary context.  Deathmatch is no longer literal bloodsport to entertain the masses but a gritty, brutal battle of attrition until one side wears down the other side’s respawner charges.  Capture the Flag isn't a game, it's you taking a daring and gritty shot at capturing your ugly, inhuman enemy’s Field LAttice Generator to turn off their respawner.  Warfare/Onslaught isn't a fun territory control match, it's a gritty and unrelentingly brutal comment on how war is hell, as you capture territory to destroy the Core that powers your gritty enemy’s respawner.

Do you get it.  Respawners.  Real war.  Not a game anymore.  No fun allowed.

Sigh.

This game came out when I was late into highschool, and was one of the first games I was super excited about.  Back then I didn't actually play all that many games, tending instead to stick to a smallish library of my favorites.  So when UT3 was announced, originally as Unreal Tournament 2007, I was hyped.  It would be one of the first games on the brand-new Unreal Engine 3, and the handful of prerelease screenshots kept my attention for months with their unparalleled lighting and detail.  Blurbs about the changes they were making excited me, talking about how they were putting a bit more speed back into the game to win over the holdouts who thought UT2004 was too slow.  An entirely new roster of vehicles was going to sit alongside the existing ones, and a whole host of changes was coming to merge the best of UT99 with UT2004.

That's what they promised.  What was actually delivered was an anemic blend of half-baked executions.  People don't like double jumping and think UT2004 is too floaty, others like double jumping and think UT99 is missing critical movement options?  UT3 keeps double jumping but makes the total jump height of both equal to a single jump in UT99, removes wall and air dodging, and adds a noticeable recovery delay after dodging from the ground.  Cool, great.

People didn't like the weapon balance changes and replacements?  Toss out the Assault Rifle, bring back the Enforcer, but make it just as inaccurate as the AR!  Make the spread on the Flak Cannon’s primary tighter, but have its alt fire shell fall off even faster than UT99’s!  

That's not to say all of the changes were bad.  Believe it or not, Unreal Tournament 3 actually does have a handful of things I really like, which makes their presence in an overall worse game all the more painful.  Vehicle physics are greatly improved, the new vehicles are amazing, Adrenaline is gone, the Rocket Launcher has its grenades back, a lot of the new weapon designs are superb, powerups are back on the map, you get a hoverboard on Warfare and VCtF maps, and I'm all out of nice things to say.  

The game, visually, is a mess (see above).  A new graphics engine means new effects to play with, but those effects here are bloom and more bloom.  Players get lost in overstuffed scenery because the artstyle inherited from Gears of War is red on brown on gray.  A more grounded overall concept strips a lot of identity from returning maps, taking them from space or exotic locales and putting them in a generic futuristic cityscape.

That's a small complaint, and totally worth dismissing, but it shows a certain lack of respect to the history of the series, to me.  These are maps that have been iconic as a whole that have been repurposed to show off how many pixels can be crammed into a skybox.  When Facing Worlds was eventually re-added in UT3’s first and only content update, it was transplanted from two opposing towers on an asteroid spinning above Earth and just set in the mountains somewhere in China.  

If you're looking at it from a pure gameplay perspective then there's nothing wrong with the change.  But it's just part of an inherent ignorance as to what players wanted from this game.  We didn't want a weird storyline where we watch Epic mush per-pixel lit action figures into each other before graciously being allowed to capture the enemy’s Field Lattice Generator three times, we wanted to mush those action figures together ourselves as we climbed higher up the ladder towards facing the Tournament champion.  We wanted to thunder across whatever alien landscapes the map designer thought up that day and add another piece to the expansive puzzle of the Unreal universe, not spend two-thirds of the game puttering around China or the generic scifi city. 

Also, in going back to get those above screenshots, I discovered something I’d entirely forgotten: there are no map descriptions.  The strongest part of that good old fashioned world building is just gone.  No more short tales of a skyscraper built by a hubris-devoured crazy person, no more small insights into the shipping lines around this or that outpost, no more glimpses at all into the world beyond the game.  For them to suddenly make such a big deal about the story, Epic sure didn’t care about anything beyond their cutscenes.

But I guess I'm getting ahead of myself.  What else is in UT3?

Not a whole lot.  With a lack of gamemodes came a lack of maps, though I suppose 41 maps was still more than you could expect at the time.  The bonus pack that turned UT3 into the “Black Edition” (I have no idea) added 19 more and did, as previously mentioned, re-add Facing Worlds.  Mutators are also lacking, with a fair chunk appearing just as basic gameplay tweaks - no hoverboard, no Orb (we'll talk about the stupid Orb), no powerups, the Arena mainstay, no Translocator (just a game setting in all previous titles), friendly fire (also a previous game setting), game speed adjustments (yep, was a setting before), and your basic Instagib/big head/super berserk mutators like you always get.  

Gone are fun things like quad jump, vampire, big wheels, slow motion corpses, all the “other UT” mutators (UT Classic and UT 2003 Style if you recall), and vehicle arena.  Remember, no fun allowed.

And I sure do wish there was fun allowed, because some things almost are.  Warfare is the star here, or at least it should have been.  Imagine:  a map five times as large as the largest Onslaught map, still joined by paths of dozens of capture nodes linked together to create distinct fronts, laced in between guided objectives reminiscent of Assault scenarios.  Completing these objectives grants you unique bonuses on your path to the enemy Core, if you can make it past the army of players and vehicles ahead…

That's what Warfare was billed as, but that's not what Warfare ended up being.  What did it turn out as?  Literally Onslaught again, but with an Orb now.  

The Orb is a game-breakingly frustrating mechanic.  Here's how it goes:  the Orb spawns at a node you control.  Someone can pick up the Orb and carry it around, shooting a giant pillar of light into the sky wherever they go.  The Orb will instantly destroy and capture any enemy node it's brought to, and will be destroyed in doing so.  The player carrying the Orb can't use any vehicle except their personal hoverboard.  

The Orb either wins games outright or does stone nothing.  See, both teams get an Orb, so what happens most of the time is that one guy uses the Orb to capture a node, then the other Orb is used to take it back.  It's not like you can use it to get a sneaky capture, because of the giant pillar of light shooting into the sky and an icon on the minimap.  The Orb is stupid, and proper control of the map makes sure that absolutely nothing comes from its presence.  So good work Epic, you added another layer to a gamemode you already stripped back to exactly what we'd gotten before, and all that comes of it is absolutely nothing.

The new vehicles are cool though.  Everything from UT2004 makes a comeback with a tweaked design, and new Necris vehicles are added as well.  They're usually just an analog of an existing vehicle except with wiggly scifi tentacles, so you get a single-person hoverthingy and a VTOL jet with lasers and missiles, but they really outdid themselves with some of the other ones.  Filling the spot of the main battle tank for the new vehicles is a giant War of the Worlds style tripod that can clamber over most obstacles and terrain.  The light attack jeep spot is a laser-toting mini-walker that can retract its tendrils and roll around as a ball, squishing people on its merry way.  Like I said, not all bad.  Oh, but only one team gets them, and not all maps support their inclusion.  So only mostly bad.

But they are all that's left of a much larger gamemode that had more and more stripped from it until they were left with literally just Onslaught but with the Orb.  

And the bad things just kept coming, this time in regards to the music.  New composers were brought in again, in the form of Jesper Kyd and Rom DiPrisco, and they make a total mess of the place.  There are a good number of “remixes” present on the soundtrack, but where the musical genius Kevin Reipl took GoDown and made Hyperblast Redux, whichever of the duo made the UT3 remix of GoDown just added some modulation and a breakbeat.  Or maybe the classic Foregone Destruction, where the UT3 version just adds some modulation and a breakbeat.  Mechanism Eight?  Modulation and a breakbeat.  Skyward Fire?  Modulation and a breakbeat.  The classic Unreal Tournament theme itself?  Modulation and a breakbeat.  The instantly recognizable stage music for UT2004’s Torlan, SDG-ONS1?  Surprisingly, a mold-breaker here: no modulation, only an added breakbeat.  And someone wailing over it.  I get that it's supposed to have a vaguely Middle Eastern or whatever sort of vibe, ‘cause the original did and Torlan itself was set in a dusty oasis sort of thing, but they changed the setting for UT3 to be more temperate so I really have no idea.

My point is that the music in UT3 sucks.  Even past the embarrassing quality of the remixes, none of the original compositions are memorable.  There's no energy, there's nothing that plays to the idea of the game, and there's no bombast.  The music probably has its fans out there, but I'm about as far from one of them as you can get.

I’m also about as far from a fan of the game itself as you can get.  When this came out, I was mainly confused as to how it could be so bad.  It’s not like it was the first time I ever didn’t like a videogame, but for Unreal Tournament of all things to turn out so bad, I just didn’t really know what I was experiencing.  UT3 was so bad that within a month I was looking up tutorials on how to use UT2004’s editor.  A year or so later Epic put UT3 on Steam and added a content pack that turned it into Unreal Tournament 3: Black Edition (I still don’t know), but that added so little that it barely made a difference.  Two new gamemodes that just amounted to new types of Deathmatch, a handful of maps, and that was it.  

People made their own maps, sure, and I’m sure if I looked now I could find mods that make it a more bearable experience.  But at the same time, I’m not really sure.  Because see, UT3 didn’t just release on PC this time around, it also came out on PS3 and the Xbox 360.  Epic wanted to bring the award-winning modding scene to those platforms as well, which means the entire process of modding and the number of things that could be modded was cut way down to adhere to guidelines from both companies as well as the much more limited space available on the console’s hard drives.  I only ever looked into mods back around when the Black Edition dropped, and the most popular mods I remember from back then is just adding a Master Chief character model.

To say that Unreal Tournament 3 was a disappointment is perhaps the biggest understatement of this entire essay.  I’m not going to rant on about how it was a betrayal of brand integrity or something, because I’m not entirely that naive, but the failure of this game to do as much right as its predecessors or even impress on any great scale meant a lot for the arena shooter genre.  Id Software had bowed out and wouldn’t reappear with Rage until years later.  Halo was wrapping up its trilogy to critical acclaim.  Call of Duty was rapidly changing the face of shooters with Call of Duty 4.  Fallout 3 was near, Bioshock had come out a year or so prior, and Gears of War 2 would cement Epic’s new direction.  

There was no redeeming followup to Unreal Tournament 3.  Nothing came out to add Assault or Domination or Bombing Run back in.  It came out, bellyflopped, and Epic let it sit in the lovingly-rendered mud full of bloom and speculars that it landed in.  

In the decade-plus since then, the face of shooters has changed again and again.  CoD4 ushered in an unrelenting push towards modern-day settings, a small subset of shooters with RPG elements grew larger, Bungie made more Halo games and then Destiny, a whole indie subgenre popped up to try to let us relive the days of Doom and Quake, then a fantastic new Doom came out, and now everyone has a battle royale.  Even Epic.  

A few years ago on the official Unreal Tournament forums on Epic’s website, a group of fans formed a plan to make their own Unreal Tournament entry under a different name.  Work started, schedules were made, and it caught Epic’s attention as so many remake projects do.  But rather than end with a Cease & Desist like just about every other one out there, a few people from Epic expressed surprise that there was such a massive push and actually pledged their own support to the project.  Unreal Tournament 4 was suddenly an official project.  

It was a strange relationship, of course - Epic’s people gave it a place in their launcher and let it use their official servers, they signed off on all major updates and made everything nice and official, but the weapon, map, and character design was going to be on the community.  We can get into the ethics of that some other time, but the point was this:  Before all that long, there was a playable Unreal Tournament 4.  Maps were using placeholder art and geometry, most of the weapons were just the UT3 models, there was one character model, and all you could play was Deathmatch, but it was coming along.  And it did come along.  The Enforcer, Link Gun, Flak Cannon, Rocket Launcher, and Sniper Rifle were all finalized and modeled, a few maps were finished entirely and look gorgeous (and play really well!), and more character models were added.  

And then Fortnite got big.  

Fortnite, a weird little Orcs Must Die-alike with building and survival elements, wasn’t much of a big name until Epic added a battle royale mode of their own, not too long after Playerunknown’s Battlegrounds swept across the Steam Early Access scene.  What that meant for the UT4 project is that the handful of official Epic people who were getting paid to curate this giant mod endeavor were suddenly reassigned to work on something a little more immediate, namely Fortnite.  

The long and short of it is that Epic killed Unreal Tournament twice in a row.  There are still arena shooters out there.  Toxikk is basically just UT2004 deathmatch with a shiny coat of paint (I played a bit, it’s okay but lacks a lot in comparison); Quake Champions is a perfectly fine hero shooter with a lot of balance problems and way too few maps, plus it’s Quake which means all the problems I have remain; Tribes: Ascend came and went just as fast as players in it moved thanks to a suddenly overaggressive monetization model; and lately I guess Dusk has its multiplayer which I hear is pretty healthy.  

The arena shooter isn’t dead; no genre really can be, and I have firsthand experience with how much work can be done to keep individual games alive, but it’s certainly not a popular choice these days.  If so much has happened to the shooter genre at large since Wolfenstein 3D came out, that much and more can happen again.  More people are playing videogames than ever, technology marches onward, and maybe one day someone in the right position with the right resources will create something that finally puts the public eye back on the most classic of multiplayer shooters.

But until then, the decade of languishing that arena shooters have been the subject of is entirely Epic Games’ fault.