NationStates Jolt Archive

CITY OF ALLOY, FRANCOPOLIS PRIME

In a high skybox, amongst a crowd of millions of cheering fans, a small, hovering guide drone projects the image of a holographic succubus to the few figues in the room. As it speaks in a cheery, syrupy tone, the guests pay varying degrees of attention. Some are interested, others bored or noncaring, or perhaps simply tired from a long trip. Whatever the case., each of the figures could hear...

"Warm greetings to all esteemed representatives attending this most grand of events.

On behalf of the Francopolis Umbra corporatum, I wish to welcome you to the Alloy Grand Arena. Within this dome are over five hundred thousand citizens, all here to witness the final rounds of the Francopolis pitfighting tournament. The reasons you have been invited to this outing is purely diplomatic...specifically, The Umbra Corporatum is interested in furthering trade relations to foreign parties. If you desire, further negotiations can be worked out with the Corporatum administrator. For now, relax, and take in the bouts! The matches today are the quarterfinals, semifinals and finals of the championship. The quarter and semifinal bouts will be standard elimination battles with medical staff present, the finals will be to the death with no chance of recovery given. As esteemed guests, you are allowed to pick one weapon of choice to be placed on the arena floor at random, to be used by competitors. Keep in mind that Tournament rules prohibit usage of non-thrown projectile weapons.

Our quarterfinal bouts today will be:

Kid Nicky (Ninjutsu practitioner in orange garb, skilled with nunchaku)
VERSUS
Corin (A stocky brutish man with a gas mask and immense strength)

Jules (A former administratory servant, using his own brand of streetfighting and donning a traditional office shirt and tie)
VERSUS
Kia (A dark-haired woman, believed to be of elven ancestry, with an impressive record of kick attacks)

Guan (An odd fighter, wearing a straightjacket during most bouts unless the fight becomes too challenging)
VERSUS
Peru (A mysterious man in a cloak, proven to be a godlike competitor with a spear)

Icarus (A balding man with numerous tattoos and a short build. Very little history in professional tournaments)
VERSUS
Tanya Slyder (A former champion and master of grapples)

Fights will be broadcast in high-definition, LIVE, all around the globe. Before the bouts begin, please feel free to take a look around and get situated. Betting is, of course, openly allowed. Have a good stay!"

With that, the drone's holographic projector flickered to an off state, and the small drone slowly hovered from the room, the Corporatum emissary entering not minutes later...

((I dunno if anyone's interested, but I thought the concept might be neat...if you have participants to enter, please introduce them! If you have representatives here for diplomatic reasons, introduce them as well! Just keep in mind that the fight winners will be determined at random for the sake of the RP XD))

Inquisitor Jules Enovar, the Belkan ambassador, came to attention. "The Imperium of Belkaros will submit the Centurion Kronus into the competition," He said excitedly. "And on a personal note, I will be betting -C-50,000 (50k Credits) on his victory!"

Kronus- A genetically modified heavy support supersoldier. Stands 7'4" and weighs 350 lbs. He is a master of chain weapons and wide cleaving blades. His body can take an amazing ammount of punishment. Wears black tactical pants and heavy combat boots, leaving his scarred chest and hideous, lipless face exposed. Centurion bodies can mutate unpredictably when too badly damaged, causing the growth of flailing tentacles and uncontolled hormone production. At this point, the Centurion has hours or less to live before it tears itself apart. Has no sense of smell or taste, and a diminished capacity to feel pain, so several forms of sneak attacks can cause unnoticed damage.

Very well, your participant is entered. We are hoping to receive at least 7 more participants before the doors close. Once all entrants are registered, we shall begin betting and other entertainment.

Kronus stepped off the VTOL and onto the landing pad. Though wearing the customary mirrored faceplate of a Centurion, the Francopolians around him cringed in fear. He walked through the underbelly of the arena, creating a wake of fear in the media representatives he passed. One brave soul asked him for a brief interview.
"C-c-could I get a word for the Ascociated Press?" stammered the internet journalist, recieving a curt nod in the affirmative from Kronus. The nod inspired a small amount of courage, so he continued, "What is your name, where are you from, and how do you feel about your chances today?"
Kronus slid the faceplate off, revealing his scarred, mutilated visage. His lips were gone, revealing large gums and gigantic, carnivorous teeth, his face twisted from the anguish of many surgeries. The journalist trembled. Kronus spoke in his deep voice, his speech impared by his lack of lips. "Ny Nane is Kronus. I an hron Elkaros. Today, I ill honor ny nation an ny Enheror. All tose who ohhose ne will fall. Glory to te Interiun oh Elkaros!" The journalist ran, having completed his task, and Kronus continued to the locker room.

The slightly moving air stirred the cape that Viciente Morath wore. His silhouette against the lights of the ship he had stepped down from was nothing spectacular. He stood maybe 6' tall, and weighed around 180 lbs. His face was old and rough, worn and covered with a beard. His skin was at just the right shade of brown that it made his ancestry indistinguishable.

At his side swung a long curved blade, with some kind of unreadable inscription glowing along the metal edge. In his hand was a small jug, which he tipped frequently to his lips, the edges of his mouth curling into a smirk with every drink. He smelled heavily of alcohol and had, upon his back, two other jugs which were strung, strangely enough, to the bow that rested there as well.

There were no reporters to interview him, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The bright lights of the cameras gave him headaches when he'd been drinking, which was most of the time. He slowly stepped toward the building where this spectacle of an event was being held, pulling his hood over his head and face as he neared the public.

They weren't ready.


(((OOC: I'm new to this, but I have a suggestion to the OP. Instead of randomly deciding who wins, why not have people RP the fights out on the forums until someone loses. People go back and fourth with actions until someone gets into a situation in which they couldn't avoid an oncoming attack. I don't know.... just something to play with.)))