Open Challenge (Come get some)

[Linoge]

I am not new to this site (I was Abbadon), I would love to battle, If any of you can take the heat . First to respond will be the one I battle. Experience please.

Responder Brings his own Battlefield and character intro.

LET THE GAMES BEGIN

[Metal Man]

Sure thing, post in a sec. (Er, make that a few more secs, American Gladiator is on--but I'm desperate to fight, so, yeah.)

Ok, back. Here I go.

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It was a bleak world, this area. Square buildings wrought of steel stood, collapsing slowly from their age. What was once a utopia had fallen by its own hand, which could still be seen clasped around its own throat. Military vehicles were discarded everywhere. Space-going ships had awkwardly fallen down and become a part of the scenery. No animal life dared live here--the ground itself was paved over. And that pavement had, in time, been paved over as well.

The bleak sign at the entrance of this mess said 'Welcome' but it had no name for this place. That half had been burned to bits, and surrounding it were empty piles of clothes. The men who wore them were long gone, but their space-age outfits were not. The pavement, cracked and crusty with debris, resembled a festering sore upon the planet it stood. The buildings looked forlorn and lonely, with few groups remaining. It glowed faintly in the perpetual twilight which hung over it.

Panning away from the scene, one would realize it was a settlement on a planet which had been destroyed. It was on a fragment, floating alone in a dark sector of space, its only light coming from the fading power supplies left behind by its last inhabitants. And yet, something stirred in this wasteland. A shadow appeared over the presumed last resting place of this place's great leader.

It was him. The man who had seen it all go down. The man who had laughed evilly, as he gave the orders that sealed this place's fate. This place, which had nursed him into being. He had crushed it personally.

His metallic hand held up the sign, which he had plucked from its former spot. He crushed it into dust, the fragments raining over his face. A mad smile issued forth as he ground the bits into nothing with his feet. His shiny metal suit blended in perfectly here--in fact, it looked almost the same as some discarded models.

Only... it was different. It had been modified. Expanded. Twisted. He had done this to himself to kill his countrymen. He knew their technology better than they did. They didn't stand a chance when he made his suit faster. Stronger. He programmed targeting data of all their weak points. He found his hometown's enemies and he brought them there. It was he who laughed as they burned.

This accursed man, standing at a solid 6'4", hydraulic joints flexing as he walked into view, lit up by twisted street lights. He laughed into the emptyness, the artificial atmosphere keeping the oxygen just high enough to allow him to be heard. He had come back to revel in his victory. The most evil act, it would seem... or did it have an alternative motivation?

Nobody would know as of yet, as he had killed all who did. They died like the sign, horrifyingly enough.

The man approached a large weapons depot, idly kicking the remains of the deceased's suits to bits. He held up an empty helmet, with its faded combat lights still online, and stared into its empty visor. He mocked it so, with his own, wickedly curved mockery of it resting on his own head.

"What does it feel like to be inferior? What does it feel like to lose? It feels like this!" He gleefully smashed it against a wall.

But that debris... echoed too much. He turned around, suddenly guilty, as if somebody had caught him in the middle of something secret. He narrowed his eyes and leaned forwards, lurching towards the sound. He spoke very lowly in the most creepy voice...

"Who comes to this dark place? Who is it who must die tonight? Tell me..... now."