Outstanding Fight Set-ups

[IKA]

This will be the first time I am putting on into the Sub-Forum.

Congrats to @Z451 for Winning the Special Writer's Challenge.

Kojojash VS. The Judderman  by @Z451
 

Falling, jettisoning through space and time, the once proud hunter is ready, he is ready to die. He has failed them, he has failed his ayïl (village), and the Kïtay people will suffer for it, but he sees no other way to act, but to surrender. The mountain goat has best him, bested the people's provider, the people's hope, Sur- Ecki has won, in spite of her inferiority, and now his people will die. It is over, the war is over, and the victor has been decided.

But then, just as the ground should have broken him, just as the jagged rocks should have taken his light, just as the light should have been extinguished from his eyes, he awoke once more. Eyes moving about, seeing the beauty of life all around him, nose taking in the vast aromas of the cliff side, ears hearing the sounds of chirping and the thumps of animals, he was alive, alive again. It was a miracle, that he was alive, and despite the chill running through his vein, he was relieved.

Lurching forward, he threw himself up from his back, his body aching in agony as he did, in order to see where he was. Surrounded by jagged rocks and sparse plant life, he remembered the cliff side that he'd been baited into by the mountain goat, but not the pit that was around him. The shredded rocks, the sharp edges of the mica formations, it was new and that was dangerous. Anything could happen here, anything could be waiting for him around every corner, and that alone was a threat.

Reaching down to grab his pack, his hands grasped the satchel of his bag, only after much difficulty, as the wounds he'd suffered from the fall, left him pouring his blood out like wine from a bottle. Red streams soaked his skin, as a stream of blood, starting from his shoulder, flowed all the way down to the very webbing of his left hand. Pain had found him, and as he grabbed the satchel in his hands, he could feel the cry of his insides pleading with him for absolution from the very burden of life. Yet, he pressed on, desperate to see Zulayka again once more, to be with her as he awaited his son's birth.

Arching over to his Ak Barang, the hunter barely touched the stock of the weapon, before cold fingers crossed over his own, freezing him in place. Frigid in temperature, and in appearance, the hunter found himself all at once stricken by the sudden appearance of winter, even as the seasons all around him indicated otherwise. Winter itself, the endless cold, the freezing chill, the infernal biting of ice, existed in these fingers, existed in the blood that encompassed them and the man who made them up, this being was winter. Shivering at the thought, and adamant about wanting nothing less than to leave, the hunter dropped the gun, and stepped back, believing that even cowardice would be better than facing someone such as this.

Stepping away, he at last looked at the face of the man who'd touched him, as his cold eyes lit up briefly with a smile, he was feeding off of his fear. Taking up the hunter's weapon, he raised it up for a moment, before spinning it around and directing it back first toward the hunter. Barrel pointed at his chest, the being in front of him showed no hesitation in offering the weapon in that position, as he continued to extend it toward the hunter's ever shaking hands. Smiling widely, he stepped forward as the hunter stepped back, the gun still waving about in the wind, calling to its master all the while. He feared not death, nor dying, as this act was simply a game to him, and one that he alone knew the rules too, and even as the hunter resisted, he too pursued, offering the man his weapon.

Neither would budge, neither would move, they just stared at each other. It was a moment of pause, each one stayed in his place, unwilling to move the process along, lest the other act before he was ready to. The two were locked, hand in hand in this dance, as they awaited a response from each other, that would never come.

Breaking the silence at last, the cryogenic man, finally spoke, as he shoved the gun in the hunter's hands, “Come now, take your weapon. You can't hunt without it, can you, Kojojash?” Baffled by his words, and more by his actions, Kojojash backed up further towards the cliff side, his face struggling to maintain composure at the being's revelations. “What's wrong, don't you want to see Zulayka again?”, he said in response to Kojojash's reactions. “You… What are you?”, Kojojash stuttered as he tried to form the words from his mouth. Smiling again, the being stepped back before lounging his back on the jagged edges of the other cliff wall, “I am simply a merchant, my dear man,” he announced gleefully.

“A merchant?”, Kojojash responded out of frustration. “Hmm…”, the being shook his head up in down in reply, the smile never leaving his face. Raising his gun, he pushed it forward into the man's chin, forcing the metal as far as it could go without penetrating the skin of the being's throat. “Who are you?”, he asked the being as he stared directly into his deep, cold, sunken eyes. The smile never leaving his face, the being merely pushed the gun aside, as he formed a grayish-white bottle out of thin air, and offered it to the man. “A drink?”, he asked as he offered the bottle to the man.
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Circling the man, as his eyes rested on Kojojash's sunken expression, the jackanape stared at him silently, watching his body twitch and quiver with each passing moment, this was a game to him. Moving behind him and then in front, and then behind, and then in front once more, the entity began to smile again as he danced around the exasperated hunter. “You should be dead, right?”, the entity asked disingenuously as he made his next pass about Kojojash's rear. “Your body should be broken, it should be crushed, and yet somehow you are still standing here, why?”, he pressed as he was almost at the hunter's side.

Turning his face towards the hunter's ear, he grinned subtly, as he watched for the man's next expression, the being was almost ready to pounce. A grimace formed on his face, as Kojojash considered the notion that he was being fed by “the thing” in front of him, “he was alive, but how?” Amused by the reaction, he leaned in, close enough to make his lips touch the hunter's ear, and whispered, “You should have taken the drink”, as the man's body suddenly began to collapse.

Falling over, Kojojash watched as the wounds he had accumulated from his previous descent, started to stain the ground on which he stood, in a reflective puddle of crimson red. Palpitating, beating beyond measure, his heart shook the foundations of his body, as it pushed more and more blood out, while his body remained statically passive, incapable of resistance. It was over, all but the eventual approach of death, as the brain slowed with each pressing second, the neurons shutting down, the synapses ceasing to allow for the flow of any more data, he was going to die.

Powerless, and incapable of sidestepping the allure of death, Kojojash lay there curled over on his side, as his breath became strained and his body found itself weightless in only a few moments, death was here, until it wasn't. Waltzing over to the man's face, the being poured his wares into the man's mouth, christening his insides with what most consider to be “liquid death”, as the grim smile he bore, never once left his face. Nothing was new to him about this, as he watched the man react to the cold flowing inside his body, like a fish ripped out of the water, all of it accorded with his plans.

Feeling the chill running through his veins, Kojojash struggled to resist its pulls on him, as the sudden jolt on his body forced him to get up, like a cold hand reaching into his mind and body all at once. It wasn't death, nor life, it was something else, something that forced him back on his feet, and kept him going.

“You and I have much to discuss, my friend.”, the being replied as he once again met his gaze.
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Trailing behind him, as the being pranced along ahead, Kojojash couldn't help but think of his ayïl, and how it suffered in his absence. Pictures and images flashing before his eyes, painted the scene vividly, the children were starving, the elders were shivering without cessation in the cold, and the horses, noble though they were, had been eaten in only one day. It was chaos, a calamity that he could not possibly acknowledge without nearly fainting, the people needed him, and they needed them now, lest they all die, and the she-goat, Sur-Ecki, provide them all with further humiliation.

Shaking his head at the thought, Kojojash remembered how the she-goat had stolen his life, his future, and even his purpose from him, but to kill his ayïl, was something that he could not bear to think about. Innocents were there, people who'd done nothing to warrant such a brutal end at the hands of nature's own inequities. He killed the she-goat's children, he murdered her kids, he killed Alabash, he slaughtered them all, their blood was on his hands, his, not the ayïl's, the Kïtay had nothing to do with it. “Why should they suffer, for what he did?”, he thought to himself, as he kept walking. “My debt, it was my debt, not theirs,” he told himself in response to his musings.

As he continued to ponder the fate of his home, the entity in front of him marched on into nothing, occasionally staring back at the hunter to provide a snarky smile. Kojojash was simply a toy, a doll for his amusements, and even as they crossed the threshold of many rigid cliff alcoves, he never once considered that the hunter was anything more. To him, he could easily dispose of the man, and be on his way, if it came to it, but then who would he find to provide entertainment after that? His sharp demeanor, his dedication to his ayïl, provided all the necessary ingredients for fun, as each one could be manipulated in such a way that the stubborn hunter could do nothing about, until it was too late. Yes, he was the perfect toy, always ready, always available for the entity's whims, he was the perfect remedy for the being's boredom.  Gullible as well, he was willing to believe anything the being told him, good or bad, so long as his village was spared.

“You don't care about your own life, do you?”, the entity asked as he began to slither back and forth between the walls, moving forward all the while. “You follow me aimlessly, mimicking my every move, replaying my every footstep, without a care in the world, and you do it, without ever questioning me, without ever stopping me, without ever truly reacting in any way, why?”, he asked out of curiosity. “Don't you care where we're going, don't you care about getting back to your wife, to your family? Are you not worried about them, about their well-being?”, he pressed on in asking the hunter. “Why do you not resist me?”

Stopping for a moment to stare at the being, Kojojash straightened out his face, and replied simply, “You brought me back from death, and for that I owe you a debt.” Quzzically staring at the man's face, the being let out a brief chuckle, before dancing away on the path again, leaving Kojojash to follow him in a suppressed annoyance. The game was growing old, the players were tiring of each other, and as the hunter continued to follow the entity in front of him, he found himself only growing more and more irritable with each step. The being was keeping him away from his ayïl, and he knew that it was, but he was still bound to follow it, because it had helped him first.

Leading him all around, through steep terrain and past multiple hoodoos, the entity intended to break him with the walk alone, but yet the hunter maintained his pursuit, willingly subjecting himself to the being's machinations out of obligation. Boring him, the being decided to move things along at last, walking forward into an opening in the rocks, from which his ice began to spread en masse throughout the canyons. Kojojash, following him, out of duty and nothing more, did not hesitate to walk in as well, even though the inhumane temperature he felt, warned him to do otherwise.

Opening his eyes to the sight of white and blues, of clear and translucent ice, the hunter looked around in astonishment as he saw a world beyond his own comprehension. No heat, no rigidity existed here, it was a frozen wonderland, a place of absolute perfect craft, as if an artist had sculpted it by hand. Turning from side to side, allowing his eyes to take it all in, he saw the lack of chisel marks, the absence of scrapes and manipulation, but could not understand how it was possible. A perfect icy world, existing alongside his own, it could not be real.

Stumbling over his own feet, he fell onto a frozen chair, while his eyes remained fixated on the world around him. Nothing could compare to the sights he was seeing, to the sights he had witnessed in front of him. It was too much to take in, and as he sat in the chair, his mind raced with worry about the natural order, for what this would do to the lands of Manas, for the Kyrgyz as a whole. None of it should be, he should not even be, even as the being had been “gracious” in bringing him back in such a way, it was all unnatural.

Perplexed by his reaction, the being walked over to him, and simply placed his hand on the man's shoulder, as he stood there by his side. “Beautiful, isn't it?”, he whispered quietly into Kojojash's ear. “It's all mine, my friend. All of it coming from up here,” he told him as he tapped his index finger to his forehead. Looking out at it, at the spread of cave walls, at the melding of ice and rock, of natural and artificial, he smiled earnestly as he remarked, “One day all the world we'll be like this. Union between the frost and the dry will be achieved.”

“But today is a different day…”, he spat out to the man as he snapped back into his senses. “Today, is the day when you and I campaign for the people's hearts.” Rapidly blinking out of confusion, the hunter stared at the being, strung up on the notion of “people's hearts”, incapable of thinking of anything else but that as he looked at the being's pale countenance even among the cave walls. Looking to him, the entity spoke at last, “I am the Judderman. I go from place to place, peddling my icy brew to all around, until all are hooked. It is my calling, my purpose in life.” “To see the world frozen in the feeling of judders, in the sensation of cold chills, and thrilling shivers, it is what I live for.”

“But, there is a problem,” he stopped saying as he brought his point to its climax. “I need help, assistance in making my brew. For you see, I'm one being, but only one.”, looking intently at the hunter's eyes, he made his intentions all the more clear as he let his thoughts burn into the man's brain. “I need the Kyrgyz, I need Manas' people.,” he stated bluntly to Kojojash. “But, they won't listen to me.”

“Hence,” he began talking again, “You must talk to them, spread my wares among the people, propagate my brew among the populace here. Starting with the Kïtay, your people.” “If you do that, if you aid me in my endeavors…”, he hesitated for a moment as his tongue felt the bitterness of his next words, “I'll relieve you of your debt to me.”

Coming to, if only for a moment, Kojojash briefly smiled at the notion that the Judderman had put in his head, the idea of returning home a free man. He would go back to Zulayka, back to his ayïl, to his father, and his son, finally he would have defeated the she-goat, it would be as it was once more. Peace, happiness, joy, and bliss would enter his life, he could live with his family, with his ayïl, as their great provider, and all it took was agreeing to the entity's trivial request. But, then he saw something, something he'd wished he hadn't seen.

Frozen in ice and struggling to live, he saw a family of mice locked in a perpetual prison under the sheets of frozen water. Terror painted on each of their faces, fear perpetuating every inch of their bodies, they resembled nothing he'd ever seen before, and nothing he'd ever wished to see in his lifetime. Death awaited them, but the ice had kept them alive, and they remained prisoners of circumstance here, all because they had been where the Judderman had been.

Thinking of his people again, and growing concerned for their future, the hunter returned his gaze to the Judderman, as he asked the questioned that he formulated since the being's proposal. “What about the Kïtay, what will happen to them?” A question which prompted the entity to reply, “What do you care about them? Haven't you done enough for them?” “My life is not my own. If not for my ayïl, I would not be who I am,” Kojojash answered him. “They must always come first.”, he declared in response. Frustrated by that answer, the Judderman stared at him in anger, as his mind pondered how he could creatively destroy the insect standing before him. “Even when your family is at stake?”

Pausing in thought to consider what the being had told him, Kojojash looked at him intently, his hand reaching for his weapon. The she-goat had threatened his family before, but she never intended on touching them, something inside of her had told the hunter that. The being in front of him, however, was something else, something that even he could not contend with, and in spite of his mannerism, someone that the hunter had not wished to cross the wrong way. Despite his fear, however, something inside of him would not allow him to think of them before the ayïl, and the hunter simply rested his hand once more and sighed. “The ayïl, comes even before them.”, he responded as his mind knew of the risks involved with doing so.

“A pity…”, the Judderman replied as the man resign himself to his fate. A look of sorrow stretching across Kojojash's face, the entity at last realized what the hunter was willing to do, willing to sacrifice, if it meant his people would survive. Then, in a moment of inspiration, he came back again, “What good will you do your people, if you're dead, however?”, as the entity's mind was reminded of what cards he still had. “If you cease to be living, oh great hunter, how can you be of any use to them?”, he pressed as he smiled at him deviously.

“No”, the hunter replied as his mind raced with thoughts of his ayïl's destruction, “You, can't do that, I must help them. I must stop Sur-Ecki from destroying them all.” Offering his hand in response, the Judderman kept smiling at him, as he watched the man fold to his will, the game had reached the good part, down to the final seconds, and he had won, or so he thought. “Do we have a deal?”, he asked as Kojojash continued to stare at his hand.

Everything was at stake, everyone was at stake, but the being was also able to bring him back, allowing him to stop Sur-Ecki's curse, this was the most important fork in his life.

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Author's Note:

Alright, so if you vote for Kojojash you are voting that he decides to reject the Judderman's offer and remain dead, sacrificing himself as a martyr. If, you vote for the Judderman however, you are voting that Kojojash decides to accept the Judderman's offer, he lives and is able to return to his ayïl, but his people will serve the Judderman, and the Judderman will spread his wares all throughout the untouched Kyrgyz lands unopposed.

[DSkillz]

Congratulations once again, JohnnyChany! This is now your seventh entry in this thread and, I believe, your third Writer's Challenge win.  

 

Linka looked down on a photo with her and her fellow Planeteers with sadness in her eyes.

“Oh my sweet Wheeler,” she whispered.

“Is that a picture of you all?”

The sound of the question shook the Russian blonde from her momentary trance. She looked over to the red bandana wearing brunette sitting across from her. Jessie Rasberry was smiling back at her.

“Yes it is.” Linka handed over the picture.

Jessie gazed at it. “How cute, you all have matching shirts. Do you still wear yours?”

“No. Not for some time,” Linka replied.

“Tell me how this Captain Planet summon works again,” Jessie implored.

“It’s not really a summon,” Linka explained. “We would all just shout out our ring’s element and ‘by our powers combined’ he would appear.”

“How interesting,” Jessie marveled. She placed down the picture and then motioned over to a chest of green glowing orbs. “Your rings aren’t too dissimilar to materia. You can slot these babies into your weapon or armor and then you can instantly access the materia’s properties whether it be fire, ice, lightning, whatever.”

Linka was puzzled. “You can access them all at the same time?”

“As many as your equipment can hold,” Jessie responded. “Every type of weapon and armor has a certain amount of slots that you can fill with materia. The boss man, Barret, has a lot of slots for materia on his gun and in his armor. But all of that stuff is too bulky for me. My gun and my armor only have one slot each to link materia.” Jessie rummaged through the orbs of materia. “I usually go with Fire or Poison for my gun, and Barrier for my bangle. They are the most effective against Shinra guards.”

“Fire from a green orb, Wheeler would have never believed it…..”

Linka grew silent. Jessie moved closer to Linka and picked up the picture.

“I have been hesitant to ask, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but why did you leave the Planeteers? You all certainly seem very happy in this photo,” Jessie observed.

“We had a  strong difference of opinion,” Linka answered. “Everything changed after Wheeler died. I thought it was a clear wakeup sign that we needed to be more proactive in taking down those that continue to harm the planet. The others did not agree.”

“Sorry to hear that. I’ve been there. It is strange how some of us can see the truth so clearly and others can’t,” stated Jessie.

Jessie then tried to inject some positivity into the conversation. “Their loss is going to be our gain. It will really be nice to have another girl on the team other than just me and Tifa. And Barret will be relieved to find out that I have already trained a replacement should something happen to me.”

Linka chuckled with some unease.

“I would love to introduce you now, but Barrett is always on edge before a big mission and tonight is the biggest one yet. Tifa is bringing in some outside help, an old friend of hers who is apparently some bigtime mercenary now. I’m curious to see how he’ll do. We need all the help we can get right now, but I think it's wise not to dump all of these new faces on Barret at once.” Jessie clicked her tongue and winked at Linka. “Not to worry though, you care for and want to protect the planet. Barret will love you, I’ll make sure of it.”

Jessie’s eyes grew wide as she looked over at a nearby clock. “Oh no, I’m going to be late for the pre-mission  meeting at Seventh Heaven. I have to go.”

“What do you want me to do while you're gone?” asked Linka.

“Keep working on those new fake IDs just like I showed you. If you can finish them up while I’m gone that would be a major help.”

Linka nodded. “You got it.”

Jessie walked over to the door and opened it to leave. “See you here later or from behind bars in a Shinra prison.” Jessie closed the door behind her before reopening it to smile and stick her tongue out at Linka. “Psych!”

After Jessie left, Linka sighed to herself. She admired Jessie’s friendly and upbeat attitude despite the situation she was in. Before he died, Wheeler had talked about the group AVALANCHE and his desire to possibly join and take a much more active role in saving the planet. Linka didn’t think much of it at the time, until that fateful day.

About six months ago, the Planeteers were in hot pursuit of the villain, Duke Nukem, when Wheeler was knocked in a vat of nuclear waste and died. His death hit all of the other Planeteers very hard, but particularly Linka. They had grown so close after all these years. Kwame was also badly shaken as he blamed himself as the leader for failing to keep Wheeler safe. After the initial shock of his death had faded away, one thought kept returning to Linka. They should have done more. If they had been more aggressive in taking down Nukem earlier, Wheeler would still be alive. Linka convinced herself that Wheeler had been right, they needed to take the fight to those that were hurting the planet, AVALANCHE was the way to go.

Gi dismissed AVALANCHE as overzealous eco-terrorists and counter productive to what the Planeteers were trying to accomplish. Ma-Ti warned Linka that her heart was becoming consumed by vengeance and anger over Wheeler’s death and feared it was clouding her judgment. They argued intensely and Linka made the decision to leave the Planeteers behind. Linka knew she should have turned in her Wind ring, that it was the right thing to do, but she didn’t. Linka was honestly surprised Gaia has still not appeared to claim it after all this time.

Linka traveled to Midgar to seek out AVALANCHE. That is when she met Jessie, and they bonded over their love of technology and hacking. Jessie set Linka up with an apartment in the Sector 7 slums. She explained to Linka the history and the ambitions of AVALANCHE. She also talked about their main target, the Shinra Electric Power Company, and how the corporation was killing the planet by sucking out all the mako energy it could.

As she finished the new ID for AVALANCHE member, Biggs, Linka was startled by a loud news report that suddenly flashed across the tv. 

“Breaking News! There was an explosion tonight at Mako Reactor 1! Details are still slowly trickling in but the belief is that it was not an accident and is the handiwork of the terrorist group, AVALANCHE! We take you live now to the scene!”

Linka gasped. “Bozhe moy!”

She watched with horror as the cameras displayed the destruction and fires engulfing Sector 1 as rescue crews tried desperately to reach terrified citizens.

“This is too awful. This is not right,” Linka cried.

Gi was right, these people were too extreme. Linka stopped what she was doing and sat in silence until Jessie returned to her apartment later that night.

“I saw the news. What happened?” Linka asked.

“Everything didn’t go exactly to plan,” Jessie admitted. “But we will do better next time.”

Linka shook her head. “No, you can’t! You can never do that again!” 

“I’m planning on using a weaker blasting agent for the next reactor. It should go much smoother,” insisted Jessie.

“You are willing to risk that much collateral damage again?”

“We will avoid it as much as we can, but we can’t stop now. Bombing the reactors is the only way we will ever make a difference!”

Linka shook her head again. “I… I can’t be a part of this.”

Jessie lowered her head. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I understand.” She slowly walked over to the unfinished IDs. “I’ll take these with me, I need to get them finished by tomorrow.”

Jessie picked them up and walked to the door to leave. Linka quickly used her wind ring to close the door in front of Jessie.

“What are you doing?” Jessie wondered. 

“I’m sorry Jessie, I can’t let you continue with this. Not when I know it will lead to more innocent people suffering,” Linka declared.

“You don’t want to do this.”

“No, I don’t,” Linka agreed. “But we must act when we know it’s right. That is what you told me, yes?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Linka, but I can’t stop now. My friends are counting on me,” said Jessie.

“We both must fight for our beliefs,” stated Linka.

“Yes we do.”

[DSkillz]

Wanted to get this in at least before Christmas ended in the U.S.  

Congratulations, @Boratz, for managing to get yet another match into this thread, and with a fitting theme and just in time for Christmas, too. It's well worth it. 

BTW, some of our other members can place matches in this thread as well, but only if you think it's an exceptionally well-done story. 

Jacob Marley vs. Mr. Potter by Boratz

Stave VI SCROOGE'S DEATH 

 

SCROOGE was dead to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The difference in his death and that of his former partner, Jacob Marley, was that Ebenezer Scrooge was surrounded by many that he had inspired in his later life. Scrooge found redemption on Christmas Eve night and set out to spread joy rather than continue his life of greed. Scrooge was surrounded by family and friends in his death. The chief mourner was his nephew, Fred but a great many others had come to mourn. Oh yes, a great many others came to be by his side to celebrate the life of Ebenezer Scrooge.  

 

Ebenezer Scrooge was as dead as a door nail. There was no doubt about that. He was as dead as Jacob Marley. The mention of his funeral brought a great many emotions through all that had known him. Scrooge had found peace and redemption in his later life. While Marley was bound by chains to wander the world in his death, Scrooge was at peace. As mentioned, he was surrounded by family and friends in his death. He was not lonely in the end. His nephew, Fred signed the burial of the register along with the clergyman, the clerk, and the undertaker.  

 

The funeral of Ebenezer Scrooge saw Bob Cratchit along with his family. Even Tiny Tim came to pay his final respects. Scrooge had left a great deal of his estate to his nephew, but he had spread out the remainder of his wealth among a great many. From Bob Cratchit and his family to the those less fortunate, the old Scrooge had left a great bit for everyone after he passed away. While a great many gathered to mourn Scrooge's passing, they were overcome with joy that he had found peace later in his life. A joy that many that had known him prior to his redemption found rather inspirational. Even the ghost of Jacob Marley came to see Ebenezer Scrooge be laid to rest. 

 

 

The mention of Scrooge’s funeral brings me back to point that I started from. There is no doubt that Ebenezer Scrooge was dead. While a great deal of his life was like that of another man that had died, Scrooge and Marley had different paths in the end. This must be distinctively understood that Scrooge was in fact dead or nothing wonderful would come from the story that is to come. The story that was the life and death of Ebenezer Scrooge had followed the ghost of Jacob Marley. 

 

Fred was left in charge of Scrooge's manor, the young man only wished to continue to bring honor to his uncle's legacy. The former home of Ebenezer Scrooge became a warm haven for widows and the fatherless. Even in his death, Scrooge continued to impact the lives of many. His contributions and impact in his later life brought hope to the city around him. There were more than family and friends that came to mourn him in his passing, the city came to pay its respect the man that found redemption on Christmas.  

 

With Scrooge Manor becoming a haven for the widows and the fatherless, Fred also set out to make it lively and festive around the holidays. Surrounding trees were decorated with ornaments that caught the eye of all who sauntered by. Carolers lined up to sing the glorious songs of the Christmas season while the former home of Ebenezer Scrooge became a beacon of hope and holiday joy. 

 

Bob Cratchit continued the business that Scrooge left behind. Rather than become overwhelmed with greed, Cratchit sought to use the business for the good of mankind. After Scrooge's redemption, Bob was delighted to see his young son grow into a young healthy man. The generous Ebenezer Scrooge even became a mentor of sorts to the young Tiny Tim. Despite Scrooge's final wishes for those that he left behind to donate their money to those in need rather than spend it on his funeral, Tiny Tim saw it fit to leave a single rose on his mentor's coffin. 

 

Hymns were sung as Ebenezer Scrooge was laid to rest. There were many tears that were shed for the old Scrooge. The stone that was placed over his grave became a reminder of his life's journey. His gravestone was a reminder to all that came to visit that redemption is possible for ages. After the mourning crowds had departed, the young Tiny Tim stayed behind to look over the gravestone of Ebenezer Scrooge. The young man shivered as he wrestled to find the right words to say. His voice trembled and shook as he muttered a fitting line that he had shouted all those years ago on Christmas Day. "God bless us everyone..." 

 

Stave VII THE HAUNTING OF JACOB MARLEY 

 

MARLEY'S ghost watched as the friends and family of Ebenezer Scrooge paid their respects to his old business partner. Still bound in the chains and locks that he had forged in his greedy life; the ghost of Jacob Marley felt a single lock come undone after Scrooge's passing. In Scrooge's redemption, Marley found that there was a chance for him to find peace even after death. Underneath his locks and chains, the ghost of Jacob Marley listened to the muttering words of Tiny Tim.   

 

With those muttering words of Tiny Tim, who was not so tiny anymore, Marley continued his journey around the world. Traveling far, wide, high, and low; the ghost of Jacob Marley sought to right the wrongs that were done to those in need. From as far as the east is from the west, and the north is from the south, Jacob traveled all over the corners of the Earth. In these endless travels, Jacob saw the worst that mankind had to offer but also saw glimmers of hope in different people. As he had offered a chance to his friend all those years ago, Marley offered the same for others in his travels. Little by little, more of those cursed locks had come undone.  

 

Time became a stranger to the old ghost of Jacob Marley. Days had become weeks, and weeks turned to years. After a while, Marley had all but forgotten the days and weeks. Despite the passing days, Marley always remembered the coming of Christmas. In his endless travels across the globe, he would often find himself at the foot of Scrooge's grave. The constant reminder of that gravestone gave hope to the tortured spirit.  

 

In his journey for peace and redemption, the wandering ghost of Jacob Marley had encountered many corrupt men and women. Cries of terror from kings and queens followed Marley all throughout the world. The evils of greed from all corners of the world became haunted by the wandering ghost of Jacob Marley. Little by little, the chains that Marley had created in life continued to loosen their powerful grip. The Ghosts of Christmas followed the wandering Jacob Marley in his long journey. The tools of the corrupt varied in each place that Marley traveled to, but the greed was all the same.  

 

At the turn of the century, the tools of the greedy changed drastically. The world saw wars that spread across the globe and the horrors only grew worse with the passage of time. Jacob Marley was nearly free from the locks and chains that bound to this purgatory. The old ghost of Jacob Marley visited the grave of Ebenezer Scrooge for what he had hoped would be the final time. He hoped that he could break the final lock to the cursed chains and finally find his own redemption. While the years since his own death has become a blur, Marley still remembered the words of Tiny Tim, "God bless us everyone..." even though, Bob Cratchit and Tiny Tim had long passed away, Jacob Marley remembered them in the Christmas Carol of Ebenezer Scrooge. 

 

During his many travels, the wandering spirit had heard of a town that was under the control of an evil man. Even though this despicable man controlled it with an iron grip, the residents stood together with the hope of a better tomorrow. There was a rich history amongst the people in the town. The town was full of many people with wonderful lives. Jacob Marley traveled across the seven seas to and to the upper parts of the United States. Up ahead he could see the sign for the town that read, "Welcome to Bedford Falls." 

 

While roaming the snowy streets on Christmas Eve, Marley heard the sweet melody of Auld Lang Syne from within one of the homes. A large crowd gathered to help a man in need. From within the singing crowd, the wandering ghost could hear the soothing jingle of a ringing bell followed by a young girl exclaiming to her father, "Look daddy, teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings!" The ghost of Jacob Marley soon realized that an angel helped the man in this home realize that he had a wonderful life as he was surrounded by wonderful friends. He also realized that his journey did not end here at the home of George Bailey. No, this Christmas Eve night was far from over for the town of Bedford Falls. Jacob Marley set his sights on the miserable Mr. Potter. 

 

Stave VIII IT'S A MISERABLE LIFE 

 

POTTER was furious over the news that he had received on that late Christmas Eve night. The town of Bedford Falls came together to help George Bailey. For Mr. Potter, George Bailey had been a thorn in his side for far too long. His hope was that warped, frustrated young man would find himself in jail before the year's end. These hopes and plans ultimately failed with the residents of this town banning together for that idealistic young man. The old man Potter was angry indeed. His plans crumbled before his very eyes on that dark and snowy night.  

 

He spat and grumbled under his breath once he heard the sweet tune of Silent Night playing on his radio. The richest and meanest man in the country threw a paper weight from his wheelchair to destroy the radio. He had no desire to hear the joyful Christmas songs that played on the radio. In fact, Mr. Potter would see to it that this would not be a Merry Christmas for the town of Bedford Falls. His mind started to run once again to form a new plan on shutting down Bailey Brothers Building and Loan once and for all. The old man Potter wheeled himself over to his desk. His desire to obtain more wealth was no longer the only thing that was driving him. His heart now desired complete control over this town, and to see the fall of George Bailey. 

 

The old man planned out a scheme that would for sure give him what he wanted. After feeling the cold chill of the winter air pushing against his neck, Mr. Potter screamed for his assistant to warm up his office. Despite hollering for his assistant, Mr. Potter's eyes did not move away from the papers that were piled on his desk. The cold winter air slowly crept over to the old man's arms and legs. Mr. Potter hollered again for his assistant to turn on the heater in his office. Once again, his eyes did not leave the papers that he had on his desk. Soon after, the cold chill had completely taken over all parts of Mr. Potter's body. He looked up and screamed at the top of his lunges for his assistant. Spit and drool ran down his lips as he looked around his office.  There was no sign of his assistant anywhere in sight. Mr. Potter was all alone in that cold office, or so he thought.  

 

The warped, frustrated old man found himself looking around in all directions. There were no sounds or carols that could be heard from the outside. In fact, there were no lights shining outside at all. The lights in his office had started to grow dim and the only sound that Mr. Potter could hear came from a faint knocking at the door. Mr. Potter's voice became a faint whimper as he called out to his assistant once more. The only sound that could be heard was from that knocking which became louder and louder. The old man's eyes widened as the door tore open and he saw the ghostly image of terror itself wander into his office. A grisly image of a tired soul that was bound in chains and locks came before him. This tormented spirit dragged along money boxes and padlocks that were forged in a life that had been wasted on greed. The old banker leaned back in his wheelchair with his eyes widened with fright.  

 

"What are you?!" Mr. Potter cried out.  

 

"In life, I was a lot like you. In life, my spirit never rose beyond the limits of money-changing holes! In death, I was doomed to wander without rest or peace, incessant torture, and remorse. I have seen your greed and evil for far too long. I am here to right the wrongs of your evil deeds! I am here to stop your pursuit of senseless power!" Jacob Marley screamed. 

 

"I... I… I will never stop!” Mr. Potter stuttered. The old man raised up his head and stuck out his chest in defiance. “I will have control of this town!" Mr. Potter yelled with confidence. 

 

******************* 

 

Can the ghost of Jacob Marley either stop Mr. Potter from destroying Bedford Falls or even find a way to redeem him? 

 

Or will Mr. Potter continue his life of greed in his pursuit to take over Bedford Falls? 

[DSkillz]

A belated congratulations on your first tournament win, @Twogunkid, and your first entry into this thread!  

Dracula vs. Macbeth by Twogunkid 

“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Glamis!”

 

“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Thane of Cawdor!”

 

“All hail, Macbeth, that shalt be king hereafter!”

 

Macbeth lurched awake again. Those words the weird sisters had spoken to him had been his curse. He had been all those things once. It seemed so near and yet so long ago. He had agreed to the cursed pact with Demona and now that cursed gargoyle seemed to have escaped him once more. His dreams had been filled with the thoughts of Demona, but it felt like another dark presence has been clouding his thoughts as of late.

 

Centuries of work and careful planning had brought him wealth. A few well named bastard heirs who had merely been himself had ensured he kept it. It was about time he arranged another such incident to occur. He had claimed his own wealth in 1870. In 1897, he should give the appearance of getting on in years and giving his wealth to a suitably aged previously unknown son.

 

“Unlike Harker to break an appointment.” An opportunity perhaps, he could just take his wealth and sail to the new world. All signs pointed that the damnable gargoyle had fled to New York. Macbeth looked over his appointment book. His shipment from Hapsburg lands was due back aboard the Demeter. “All the time in the world and everyone’s late.” he mused.

 

“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Hunter of Monsters!”

 

“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Preserver of London!”

 

“All hail, Macbeth! Hail to thee, Slayer of Abominations!”

 

Macbeth’s blood ran cold. He knew this greeting all too well. He heard as a lowly Thane. He heard it as a King. He heard it in his sleep. He heard while awake. Those words were burned into his mind, but they were different

 

“Do you mean… I finally will have peace? Demona will die?” For the first time in almost 700 years, he felt a twinge of hope. The three weird sisters were there; he had not seen them since his pact with Demona. They ruined his life, but always seemed to speak the truth. “Tell me!”

 

“By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.” The tall white haired sister spoke.

 

“What’s fair is foul, and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air.” The blonde sister added. 

 

“Clove of garlic, wooden steak. Are the means by which an immortal life to take.” The dark haired one added. 

“You speak in riddles!” Macbeth shouted.

 

“”Thou shalt see us again when the hurlyburly's done.”

 

“In thunder lightning or in rain”

 

“When the battle’s lost and won.”

 

“And that will be ere long after the setting of the sun.”

 

In a blinding flash of light the three sisters were gone as quickly as they had appeared. Still, they hadn’t left him without any tools. They had told him once and for all a way to end Demona’s scourge on the world. They had told him when. Tonight. Soon after sunset. He moved like a man possessed. He walked through the streets of London towards Westminster Abbey. There were trees there older than both he and Demona. If he were to kill Demona, he was going to do it properly. He cut through the thick London fog blackened with coal smoke. He ignored the fumes and pollution. He was a man possessed. He strode with the single minded intent of retrieving holy wood for a stake. He was all the more surprised when he bumped into a well dressed Transylvanian who held his ground. Macbeth found himself on the ground and the stranger unphased. 

 

“My apologies friend, I was taking in the sweet London air.” He offered Macbeth a hand up. Macbeth took it warily. Few people on this Earth were stronger than him. “My name is Dracula. Count Dracula. I can see that you are a man of status and…” he took a deep breath, but it didn’t seem to be the London air he was smelling, “fine blood. A royal line perhaps?”

 

“You are a perceptive man Count, but there is no King here. Queen Victoria reigns.” Macbeth felt uneasy about this gentleman. He knew entirely too much. He was certainly strong even for a man as youthful as the Count. He looked for scrawnier than his might would lead one to expect. The Count did not yet release Macbeth’s hand.

 

“Perhaps you will come to dine with me tonight? I have a place purchased here in London, but I have not had the opportunity to entertain. Of course, you will enter freely and of your own will. I would never impose on a man such as yourself.” 

 

Macbeth silently cursed the social niceties of being a respectable businessman. An invitation from a visiting noble could not be idly ignored. “I’d be delighted,” he lied, “around what time should I arrive?”

 

“After dusk and please don’t keep me waiting.” The words after Dusk told Macbeth all he needed to know. Demona would be there. The Count had no way of knowing it, but Macbeth planned to end things once and for all tonight.

 

Thanking the visitor he had encountered, Macbeth hurried to Westminster Abbey to cut his wooden stakes and purchased garlic from a grocer. He wasn’t sure how these would help him slay Demona, but he had no reason not to believe the Weird Sisters. Sliding the garlic and wooden stakes into the lining of his jacket, he dressed to the nines and began to walk to the address the Count had given him. This couldn’t be right. The home was dilapidated. The windows were barred, the home covered with dust, this was the address of the Count? He must have made an error Macbeth thought to himself. He turned to see if there was anyone on the street he could ask, but despite what would still be a somewhat busy time on London streets, there was no one. He was about to turn when the last light of the setting sun descended in the West and the door in front of him opened on it’s own.

 

Not trusting this for a moment, Macbeth thought about the Webley pistol and Bowie knife he had brought in addition to the garlic and stakes, Demona would not take him quietly. “Count?” He entered the darkened building, his hand reaching for the pearl handled firearm. He thought he saw a flicker of movement out of the side of his eye. He turned, but there was nothing. Whatever was here, flitted about like a big cat. It was testing him, testing his senses, awareness, reaction time.

 

“Macbeth?” The seven century old Scot nearly jumped out of his skin. “How nice of you to join me, dinner will be served and then perhaps something to drink.” Whatever was darting about panther-like, seemed to be staying away for now. Macbeth prepared himself for anything and prepared to dine, and the Count did likewise. 

[DSkillz]

Been awhile for this. 

A very belated congratulations to you, @Culwych1 for earning your second Tournament win and fifth overall entry into this thread! 

Beast (Disney) vs. Tarzan (Disney) by Culwych

🎥 DISNEY+ EXCLUSIVE CONTENT 🎥

Intro: Far away from the enchanted castle we all know, deep within a lush, untamed jungle, lay the rarest rose in the world. This mystical flower was said to grant the final cure to all curses.

The Beast, after switching back to his beastly form, despite Belle’s love, knew that only this flower could grant him eternal happiness and that the treacherous journey to find it was worth the danger.

“Belle, my darling, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” asked the Beast, knowing that any danger would be surmountable with Belle’s love.

“Nah” said Belle as she walked away, having lived long enough with the smelly fur and, like any wife, knowing that her husband needed new hobbies to do without her. Besides, the choice was between a humid, bug-infested jungle trip, or heading down to the neighbouring castle for yoga and wine with Cinderella.  

----

Weeks later, the Beast arrived in the jungle. He swore like a trooper as his big paws squelched in mud, his cape caught in branches, and his fur curled with the humidity. The Beast grumbled as he stomped through the undergrowth, his regal demeanour long since replaced with the mood of a sulking bear. His paws slapped at the occasional mosquito, and his muttered curses grew louder every time he tripped over a root or snagged his tail on a thorny bush.

"Magical rose, they said. It'll cure you, they said," he growled, tugging his cape free from yet another branch. "Nobody warned me it would involve sweating like a pig and looking like a wet mop!"

He paused to sniff the air. Amid the overwhelming scent of damp leaves and animal shit, there was something floral, something faintly magical. His ears perked up, and he followed the scent like a dog on a scent trail.

And there it was. The Floribunda Ultimata. 🥀 It grew on a single vine that twisted elegantly around an ancient tree trunk, its petals glowing faintly like they held the sunrise within.

“Oh, thank the stars,” the Beast muttered, trudging toward it. He reached out a clawed paw, excitement bubbling beneath his grouchy exterior.

But just as his fingers brushed the delicate petals, a voice shattered the jungle calm.

“AAAH-AAAAHHH-EEEEE-AAAAAHHH!”

The Beast froze mid-reach as a man hurtled out of the trees on a vine, hollering like a lunatic. With a dramatic thud, the figure landed in front of him, muscles glistening, hair flowing in an exaggerated slow-motion effect, despite no wind.

“What,” the Beast said flatly, “is this?”

Tarzan stood tall, puffing out his chest in a way that would have made Gaston weep with envy. His brow furrowed as he pointed dramatically at the Beast.

“Me Tarzan. Who daf*ck are you hairy man bear? Why are you in my jungle?” Tarzan demanded, his slightly British accent comically clashing with his loincloth. [Author’s note: It is worth pointing out that Tarzan had been hanging out an unhealthy amount with Jane’s two brothers, both of whom were soldiers and therefore swore like sailors on leave after a six-month tour.]

The Beast blinked. “Your jungle? It’s a jungle. No one owns it.”

Tarzan crossed his arms. “Wrong. I am the jungle. Protector of the vines! Defender of the animals! And you, furry f*ck, are clearly an intruder.”

“Furry what?” The Beast’s temper flared. “I am Prince Adam! And I don’t have time for this nonsense. I am here for that rose.”

Tarzan tilted his head, his confusion so intense it almost became audible. “The rose? That’s not food.” He sniffed the air. “Wait… what are you? Big cat? Big bear? Or some kind of shaved gorilla-lion?”

The Beast clenched his jaw, his claws twitching as he fought the urge to lunge. “I am a cursed prince. Not that it’s any of your business. Now step aside.”

Tarzan shook his head and let out a soft laugh, as though the Beast had told a joke. “I can’t let you take that. It’s part of the jungle! You take it, the balance is upset. Then the elephants start to riot, and the monkeys start throwing sh*t all over the place.”

“I’m taking it because I need it to break my curse!” The Beast roared, taking a step forward. “Do you even know what it does?”

“No,” Tarzan admitted, shrugging. “But it looks fancy, so I assume it’s important. And I can’t have you stealing fancy things. Jungle rules.”

The Beast snorted. “There are jungle rules now?”

Tarzan nodded solemnly. “Rule one: don’t take anything shiny, glowing, or edible without permission. Rule two: no roaring unless it’s during an epic fight. Rule three: don’t sh*t near the capuchins as they will either eat it, or throw it at you.”

The Beast glanced down at his mud-soaked cape. “You know what? I don’t have time for this. I’m taking the rose, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Tarzan grinned. “Oh, I am going to stop you. Because if you take it, the animals will blame me. And if the animals blame me, Kala gives me the look. And let me tell you, the look is worse than being chased by a leopard.”

“Who’s Kala?” the Beast asked, exasperated.

“My mum. Don’t worry about it.”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

Tarzan flexed his muscles unnecessarily, his grin widening. “If you want that rose, you’ll have to get past me. And no offence, but you look like a badger with his knickers in a twist.”

The Beast’s eye twitched. “That’s it.”

The two squared off, tension crackling in the humid air. Birds perched on branches to watch, monkeys swung closer for a better view, and somewhere, a baboon started drumming dramatically on a hollow log. Bonga bonga bong bong. Bonga bonga bong bong.

“You’re not ready for this,” Tarzan said, cracking his knuckles.

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” the Beast growled, baring his fangs.

For a brief moment they heard voices echoing in their minds… Jane and Belle telling them to see sense, to not cause trouble, to make sure the toilet seat was down.

But these were men, fighting men, beastly men, men who left the toilet seat up!

There….would…. be… trouble!

-------------------------------

Story Summary

[DSkillz]

Another very belated congratulations to JohnnyChany for your eighth entry into this thread! 

Nightcrawler vs. Kazuya Mishima by JohnnyChany

Jun Kazama stood in an open field. The wind gently stirred the tall grass around her. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and allowed herself a moment of tranquility.

A sudden *BAMF* shattered the stillness, accompanied by the telltale scent of brimstone. Jun flinched slightly but quickly composed herself, a small smile formed on her lips..

“Kurt,” she said softly, “I may never get used to that."

"Ah, liebchen, it is an essential ingredient to my charm,” replied the veteran X-Man. 

Jun turned to face the blue-skinned mutant; his golden eyes gleamed with warmth. His tail swayed lazily behind him.

"It’s so nice to see you again."

Kurt took her hand.  "And you, mein freundin,  I must admit, I never thought I would ever have the pleasure of being in the presence of your radiant beauty once more.”

Jun blushed.

“I heard tales that you had fallen to the ancient warrior, Ogre," said Kurt.

Jun's expression wavered for a fraction of a second before she offered a noncommittal shrug. 

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I understand. Like many of my mutant brethren, I know well the confusion of returning from the dead. We don’t have to discuss the nature of your life if you don’t want to.”

Kurt bamfed to a nearby log and sat expectantly. “What would you like to talk about?”

Jun chuckled lightly. “As much as I would love to simply banter with you, I need your help."

Kurt’s easy demeanor shifted to a more serious expression. "Of course, you need only ask."

"It’s about Kazuya," stated Jun.

"Ah, yes. Kazuya Mishima. He is already on our radar. His worldwide tirade has not gone unnoticed. Rest assured, there are plenty of heroes ready to step in and take him down and the G-Corporation should the need arise.”

Jun shook her head. "That’s the problem. I fear his ambitions will lead him to perish in some grand battle, and I don’t want that. Not for the man I love."

Kurt studied her carefully. He recalled the previous conversations they had shared about her torrid romance with the current head of G-Corporation angling for world domination.

"Do you truly believe the man you loved is still in there?"

 "I have to believe that.” Jun insisted. “He’s buried deep inside, but he’s still there."

“Then, what exactly are you asking of me?" Kurt questioned.

Jun walked over to Nightcrawler and grabbed his hand.  "Kurt, you exude love and empathy in everything you do. You have a silver tongue that reaches hearts others cannot. If anyone can reach Kazuya, it’s you."

Nightcrawler let out a low whistle.

"You’re asking me to go into the belly of the beast and convince one of the most dangerous men in the world that there’s a better path? That’s one of the craziest ideas I’ve ever heard." Kurt paused and smiled. "And I love it."

Jun’s eyes softened with gratitude. “Thank you, Kurt.”

"If there’s any of that man you once knew still there, I will find it."

With a final nod, Kurt bamfed away.

G-Corporation’s headquarters was a towering monolith of steel and glass, and Nightcrawler infiltrated it with relative ease afforded to him from years of infiltration. Hiis teleportation abilities allowed him to bypass security measures. He appeared behind guards and dispatched them with swift strikes of his swords. He disarmed and rendered them unconscious before vanishing in a puff of purple smoke.

Eventually, he reached the top floor. His target, Kazuya Mishima, sat in a high-backed chair. His crimson eye gleamed with intrigue.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

Kurt bowed politely.: "Guten Tag, I am Kurt Wagner. A friend of Jun Kazama."

Kazuya’s jaw tightened; his fingers drummed on the armrest. "Leave. Now."

"I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Kurt responded.  “Jun believes you are worth saving."

Kazuya sneered: "I don’t need saving. I am on the verge of achieving everything I’ve worked for."

"And what then? What is left for you to pursue once the world is yours? A life of solitude atop your dark tower?”

Kazuya’s face darkened. "That’s not the concern of a smelly blue imp."

Kurt chuckled, unfazed. “Smelly blue imp? Not the most pleasant nickname I’ve been given, but I can go with it. Not all of us are blessed with Devil Genes we can hide from the world at our own discretion.”

“What do you know of the Devil Gene?”

Kurt met Kazuya’s eye. “I know enough.”

“Then you would know that it in part drives me to make the choices that I do,” said Kazuya.

“A pathetic excuse. I have demonic blood flowing through my veins, yet it has not stopped me from giving love and through His grace being fortunate enough to find those willing to give it back. Was the Devil Gene not also present inside you when you were romantically involved with Jun? An involvement that brought a son into this world.”

Kazuya stood from his chair and slammed his fist on the table. “Two lessons in the weakness such feelings can bring! Love made ME weak. Jun softened me, and because of her, I lost to Heihachi and was tossed into a volcano. The boy is an embarrassment and will never fulfill his potential because he is too afraid to commit to the Devil Gene inside him and is in constant conflict trying to hold on to worthless emotions like love. I made the right choice and that was reinforced to me when I finally dispatched that wretched Heihachi for good.”

“Did finally defeating your father bring you happiness?” asked Kurt.

“It brought me satisfaction.”

“A hollow victory, just like all the others you hope to obtain.” 

Kazuya’s lips curled in irritation.

"You call Jin weak because he refuses to surrender to his Devil Gene and forsake emotions like love. But love isn’t weakness. It’s strength,” Kurt preached. “I am motivated by love, and it has allowed me to survive impossible odds. Maybe Jin can reach his true potential when he fully embraces the love around him in his life.”

Kazuya’s eye flashed red. "This conversation is over. It no longer interests me."

“Perhaps then I could pique your interest if I proved a man motivated by love has the strength to defeat you,” Kurt offered.

Kazuya scoffed. "You think you can best me? That’s laughable."

Nightcrawler drew his swords and twirled them through the air. “Shall we put it to the test then? Unless you fear my blades and my mutant abilities.”

A dark aura flared around Kazuya as his devil form flickered into existence briefly. He smirked.

"I have no worry over pathetic circus tricks. I fear nothing."

“A duel it is, Teufel Mishima,” Kurt proclaimed.

[DSkillz]

A very belated congrats to @ThePhenomenalOne for your win and getting your second entry onto this thread! 

Deadpool vs. Gamora by ThePhenomenalOne 

“Now, I already know what you’re thinking. Here comes this douchebag with another match involving me. Lack of creativity, the crippling weight that his work puts on him, being a dad to 3 boys, preparing one of those assholes for college, and the list goes on. It’s none of those things. These guy had all day off to do something about this. He decided to play basketball, get high, and watch movies all day. He already feels like a sarcastic asshole and he’s seen my movies more times than should be admitted. Let’s see where this asshole takes us.” Deadpool says staring directly at you through your screen

 

Deep in space, Starlord and the rest of the Guardians of the Galaxy are hanging out on the ship.

“Gamora, you don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?” Quill asks

“I think you take unnecessary missions that benefit your own agenda.” Gamora quips back

“I only do what is best for this team and best for this galaxy!” Quill says

“What about that time we went to Omicron Persei 8?” Nebula speaks up

“Oh come on! Everyone made out on that deal and had a great time!” Quill says rubbing the back of his head

“Their emperor tried to eat me!” Rocket screams at Quill

“You were kind of asking for it the way you mocked his speech” Quill rebuts

“I’d rather listen to Drax read a book than have to sit through that nonsense.” Rocket replies

“Books are for wimps and nerds. I read with my blades” Drax chimes in

“What about that time you answered a ‘distress signal’ that ended up being nothing. Yet somehow it took us to the planet that’s made up of chocolate?” Gamora says

“That was pure coincidence! Everyone had a blast! Free chocolate!” Quill says

“I don’t eat any food, especially chocolate, Mantis choked on some, and we had to wait for Drax to pass out to get him on the ship because he ate so much chocolate.” Nebula says

“You’re being a Debbie Downer. Why do you hate fun so much?” Quill asks

“I’M FUN!” Nebula screams

“Ok, you’re fun, sorry. How about you choose the next distress signal we go to.” Quill says

“I wanna choose!” Drax butts in

“We’re not going back to that chocolate planet! I’m choosing the next place.” Nebula says

They all walk over to the computer and start going through multiple distress signals.

“There’s actually a distress signal coming from Earth. We’re going to Earth. I want to go to Earth.” Nebula says

“We get it, you want to go to Earth. Fine, whatever, let’s go to stupid Earth.” Quill says as he sets his coordinates

 

X-Force is hanging out in Wade’s apartment. They’re having a birthday party for Peter.

“I can’t believe my big guy is another year older!” Deadpool says as he rubs Peter’s head

“Yeah, another trip around the sun!” Peter says with a big smile

“You’re so damn cute” Deadpool says as he squishes Peter’s cheeks

The doorbell rings. Deadpool goes to answer the door and is greeted by Colussus, Nega-Sonic, and Yukio.

“Yay! My other friends are here!” Deadpool says excitedly

“We are happy to come” Colussus says

“That’s what she said! HA!” Deadpool says as he tried to give Nega-sonic a high five. She just gives him a death stare and he looks over to a smiling Yukio

“Hi Yukio!” Deadpool says excitingly

“Hi Wade!” Yukio returns the enthusiasm

“There’s pizza, chips, beer, and some Columbian bambam in there. Help yourselves!” Deadpool says as he leads his guests into the party. Wade goes and sits on the couch next to blind Al. As he sits beside her he immediately puts up his middle finger to her face.

“So, are you having a good time?” Deadpool sarcastically yells.

“Damnit, stop your yelling! I’m not deaf, dumbass. And get that damn finger out of my face!” Blind Al says

“How did you know it was there?” Deadpool asks

“It smells like ass” Blind Al replies “This party blows. Speaking of blow, you want to build a snowman?” She asks

Deadpool smells his finger, gets grossed out and answers “I can’t, I want to stay here for Peter. I don’t need to be in a room with you for 5 hours discussing the best Pink Floyd album.”

“It’s Darkside of the Moon and you suck!” Blind Al says

“It’s The Wall! I don’t have time to get into this again. Take Zeitguist in your room. Just don’t share a bill with him. Gotta go mingle. Toodles” Deadpool says as he gets up

“Hey Shatterstar, there’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you. What are the alien women on your planet like? Feisty, freaky, 3 boobs? What’s the deal with them” Deadpool inquires

“I’m gay” Shatterstar replies

“Good for you! Not a lot of help for me, but happy you’re loud and proud! Do you have any cool alien hardware or technology that’s cool?” Deadpool asks

“I have a bunch of stuff. Check this out.” Shatterstar says as he pulls out a little thing that looks like a keychain

“That looks stupid.” Deadpool says

“This is something that was given to me on my homeworld before I left. If my life is ever in serious danger, I press this button, and it sends out a distress signal throughout the galaxy” Shatterstar says

 

“We’re going to take a quick timeout here. You starting to see how this jackass is trying to make us meet up? It took some stretching but his stoned ass thinks it’s genius. I personally would’ve gone a different route, but I’m going to watch this dumpster fire playout. There’s only an hour left. Let’s see how this guy pull the rest of the story out of his ass. This right here is just to take up time while he sits there thinks up the next part. Let’s get back to the action!” Deadpool says to all of you reading this abomination

 

 

“So if I press that button, some super aliens are going to come here and save us?” Deadpool asks

“That is correct.” Shatterstar says

Deadpool yanks it out of his hand and is about to press the button. “This is a perfect surprise for Peter’s party! I press this and more super cool aliens come here! Hopefully some are chicks and we can get Big Pete an alien lap dance. Hopefully she has 3 boobs!” Deadpool says as he rapidly pushes the button multiple times.

 

“The call is coming from inside that apartment building. This is the distress signal you answered? At least mine were cool. It’s probably just some old lady that fell in her bathtub.” Quill says

“You were the one who told me to choose! It’s our duty to help those in need.” Nebula snaps at Quill

“I am Groot.” Groot says

“He’s right, it would be cool if it was a party.” Rocket says

“Let’s just get this over with.” Gamora says

The crew park their spaceship and walk into the building. They follow the signal to Deadpool’s apartment. They knock on the door. Peter gets up to answer the door. He’s greeted by a giant tree, a blue mechanical woman, a green woman, an enormous gray being with tattoos, a raccoon with a gun, an alien with weird things hanging out of her forehead, and a regular guy wearing a mask.

He screams at the top of his lungs and slams the door. “Wade! There are aliens at the door!” Peter screams

“No way! It worked! That’s so awesome! Don’t be scared sugar bear! These are surprises for you! These are Super aliens who come and help people! And I’m hoping there are some hot alien chicks and you can get a lapdance!” Deadpool says as he rushes to the door

 

“Wow! It worked! You all look so awesome! Hello, I’m Deadpool and I’d love for all of you to come hang out at this party.” Deadpool says

“I am Groot!” Groot says

“What in the fuck did that tree just call me?” Deadpool says

“You’re right, it was a party.” Rocket says

“Sorry, Deadpoop? We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy. Those distress signals are not toys” Starlord says

“Deadpoop, ha, funny. Bitches of the, I mean Guardians of the Galaxy huh? Too good to hang out with the small time heroes.” Deadpool says

“Quill, we might as well go in and eat, we’re starving.” Rocket says

“I’m not hungry.” Nebula says

“We know!” they all say in unison

“We also have cocaine.” Deadpool says

“I love cocaine.” Drax says

“You look like you would.” Deadpool replies

“He doesn’t know what cocaine is.” Gamora says

“We’ll come in for some cocaine and food and then we’re leaving.” Quill says

“Great! Come on in!” Deadpool says

“What’s cocaine?” Quill whispers They all shrug their shoulders

“Maybe its fancy food.” Mantis replies

The Guardians of the Galaxy walk into Wade’s apartment where they are greeted my the X-Force and some members of the X-Men. They all start making small talk and enjoy some pizza. Music gets turned up and the beer and liquor start flowing. Drax starts eyeing up Colussus.

“I can take him.” Drax whispers to Quill

“Take who? We’re not taking anyone.” Quill says

“The giant metal man. He looks strong. I’m stronger.” Drax says

“I’m sure you are but we’re not going to find out here.” Quill says

“Metal Man! Let’s arm wrestle!” Drax says as he walks towards colossus

“This is happy place. No need to show displays of strength.” Colussus says

“You’re a chicken. Just admit I’m stronger than you.” Drax says

“Don’t take that shit from him! Show his ass how we do it here on Mother Earth big guy!” Deadpool says as he slaps Colussus on his ass

“Fine. I only do this to shut him up.” Colussus huffs

The 2 are on opposite ends of the table. Drax and Colussus lock hands. Drax screams at Colussus as he puts all of his might into pushing his arm down. Colussus is surprised at his strength but not worried at all. He smiles at Drax and then forcefully puts down Drax’s arm and is victorious!

“Guardians of the Galaxy my ass! Your strong guy just got his ass whooped by our strong guy” Deadpool says directly at Quill

“What the hell are you trying to say? That your team is better than mine?” Quill puffs his chest

“I’m just saying, it looks like we could kick your butts easily. We are the X-Force. We have badasses. You have some hot chicks, a walking stick,a rat, a big dumb guy, and just a normal looking man. We’ve got you beat babe.” Deadpool says as he winks at Quill

“Who the hell are you calling a rat?” Rocket says as he reaches for his gun

Domino is a step ahead and pulls her twin uzis out before Rocket can get his out. “Looks like he just did.” Domino says

“I am Groot!” Groot says defiantly as his arm takes the form of an ax.

“You need to watch who you’re talking to.” Nebula says as she snuck behind Domino and has a gun to her head

“Whoa! This has gone on long enough! We’re both good guys! We don’t need to resort to violence. It was just witty banter!” Deadpool says

“Kill them all!” Drax says as he dives for Deadpool. He’s stopped midair by Colussus and thrown into the wall. Others take position and get ready for battle. Quill tries to punch Deadpool who easily dodges it and goes to kick Quill in the head. His foot is caught in mid air my Gamora and throws Deadpool into the wall.

 

“That’s it! We’re not ruining this party! But we are going to settle this. Leader vs leader! One on one fight. Mano a mano! Winner gets bragging rights and no one else can jump in. Afterwards, I’ll help you up, get you a beer, and we can go do some cocaine.” Deadpool say

“That’s fine with me! Let’s go out-“ Before Quill can finish his sentence he is interrupted by Gamora.

“I’m sick of this. I’m dealing with this asshole and then we’re leaving.” Gamora says

“But I want to-“

“No, I’m fighting and that’s it.” Gamora says

“That’s fine. Let your girl fight your battle for you. That’s manly. Lets go then you strangely attractive green goddess.”  Deadpool says

“There’s an open parking lot next door. Let’s do this.” Deadpool says as he leads everyone outside.

 

SO here is my match! Deadpool vs Gamora in an open parking lot with just their blades and fists! No guns! No outside interference. Both MCU versions. Def could’ve done more with this match and felt this was a cool twist instead of having Deadpool vs Starlord. I hope yinz enjoy this match and good luck to my opponent, Culwych!  Let me know what yinz think!