The Arena
Start Here: [PM] It's time for the Main Character Arena! Many will enter, at least one will win!
Summary Thus Far:
!Many heroes gathered to fight for the right to a perfect, all powerful, immortal body. Little did they know it was a trap, set my the evil telepath Talloran, who plans on using them to kill eachother so he can absorb their powers.!<
!Ferlge-Pop is dead. Elliot is Dead. Matthew is dead. Gregory is banished to the eternal plane. Only Brooke escaped the arena. Can she used her reality altering powers to stop Talloran's ambiguous but probably evil plan?!<
The Finale:
Talloran looked up at the blank shotgun. The weight of Steve’s betrayal meant nothing; he had served his purpose.
Talloran was curious as to how each of the individual powers would react on a humanoid, but Steve’s continued survival, and his own successful grafting, proved beyond a doubt that there were no ill effects. Now, Steve was a loose end.
Talloran’s eyes flashed red, and he muttered a powerful incantation drawn from Elliot’s powers. Steve lunged forward, but it was too late. He was trapped inside a red, glowing circle.
“Remember—we have a bit of fallen angel inside us,” Talloran jeered. With a flick of his wrist, he banished Steve to the sixth ring of torment.
He strode out of the arena gateway, up into the stands of the stone amphitheater. He walked up the marble steps into the observer platform. There, Xena and Xavier sat in the observer chairs, where they maintained the illusion of the spectators.
“That will be all, my illusionists,” he said. The twins gasped as the flow of magic stemmed; the spectators disappeared.
Xavier rose from his chair, “Can we see our mother now?” he said, his brown eyes glowing with ferocity.
“Tut-tut, Xavier—Patience,” Talloran said. “But I did say I would give you a reward for being so obedient. So here is your reward.”
Talloran reached out, grabbing Xavier’s arm. Quick as a wink, he touched Xena’s shoulder. Both children fell to the ground, convulsing, as they too received Elliot’s power.
“Now you can see your mother, as promised,” Talloran said.
Before they could respond, he chanted, and two red rings appeared around them. In a flash, they vanished, sent to the sixth ring of torment.
The sixth ring of torment was not, by any means, a fun place to be. Especially for the archdemon of woe, Frankenzelok, who just had one of his physical manifestations destroyed by a crazy gun-wielding Bostonian. Brat-atat-tat indeed. So now, Frankenzelok lay in his chamber, his immortal spirit slowly recovering. He felt a disturbance. Mortals. In the sixth ring of torment, no less.
He sent an imp to investigate, and was shocked when it reported back, “My lord, several fallen angels have been bound to the plane—in their mortal form.”
Frankenzelok spoke, his voice so weak and quiet. “Fallen angels? like the summoner who caused my physical form to perish?”
“Exactly the same—I mean, exactly the same. Some part of him is bound within the mortals.”
Curious, Frankenzelok asked the imp, “Who could have done this? What reason would they have—to send mortals here?”
“I don’t know, my lord, shall I send for the great watcher?”
Frankenzelok shook his head, where small horns were just poking through his adolescent body. “No, he cannot yet leave his realm—I shall travel to him.”
He sighed. This body had taken him all day to grow, and this effort would surely leave him weakened once more. But this was a curious event indeed, and if anyone could reveal the mystery, it would be the great watcher. He closed his eyes and muttered the spell. In a wink, he flashed out of existence, reappearing in the eternal realm, on a hill in Elysium, overlooking the crystal sea. He collapsed, exhausted.
A young, teenage boy sat on the rocks nearby, his eyes closed, lost in thought. He heard the demon appear behind him, and instantly recognized the smell of ozone and Sulphur. “Why have you come here, my friend?”
“Gregory—oh Great Watcher—something stirs in the darkness of the mortal realm, sending living souls to torment.”
“I have seen and heard. The balance has been upset by Talloran”
“What will you do?”
Gregory sighed. He enjoyed his place here, in Elysium. It was quiet, and peaceful, and he could run through endless fields of green. He had no thirst, nor hunger, nor sickness, and the souls of brave warriors talked freely with him. He was finally at peace.
But a lost girl, alone, wandered the eternal plane. A mother cried for her children, locked in a torment she did not deserve. A being craved pineapple pizza in a place where there was none, and in the mortal realms, Talloran plotted—
“Frank, if you’re feeling strong enough, send for Heimdallr. He owes me, big time,” Gregory said.
Buddha breathed heavily, still throwing soft things at the crying girl. “You think that I will just offer up infinite wisdom for wisdom’s sake? Here’s some wisdom—it’s wise to leave me well enough alone.”
He grabbed a plush pillow, lightly tossing it. It bopped against the girl’s shoulder, who lay sobbing in the corner.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was sent here” Brooke said, grabbing the pillow, and holding it tight. Buddha was a jerk, but he seemed harmless enough, and the eternal realm looked so infinite—so scary.
“Of course, you don’t know, because you don’t know yourself. Your inner self, that is. You’re too conflicted to see clearly—it’s pathetic.” Buddha ran to the linen closet. There were so many soft things here for him to throw.
“I have to get back home and stop him, but I don’t know how.”
Brooke raised the pillow, blocking the towel Buddha threw at her. He frowned and grabbed another towel. “Stop who? Well—it doesn’t matter. Just wait until he dies. Our worst enemies are always ourselves.”
“But he said he had a way to create an immortal body, and he can travel through time. I don’t think he can ever die.”
Buddha mused, balling up a purple sheet. “I’m guessing you’re too stupid to ask him nicely to stop?” He said, throwing the sheet at Brooke. The pile of linens was starting to accumulate rapidly.
In that moment a brilliant flash of rainbow light appeared. Heimdallr, stepped forward, looking around Buddha’s home. “Buddha, you fartball, what have you done to this poor girl?”
“Beat it, Heimdallr! Take your rainbow shenanigans elsewhere.”
“Very well. Brooke, come with me.” He said, and they disappeared in a flash of light.
Buddha fumed. He was really going to enjoy when Ragnarök was finally over.
In the sixth plane of torment, there was much rejoicing. Xavier and Xena embraced their mother, weeping. Gregory and Steve chatted aimlessly. Frankenzelok lay on his throne, a small, adorable demon babe, severely weakened by the effort required to bring them together. With a flash of light, Heimdallr and Brooke appeared.
“This is all of them” Heimdallr said, stroking his beard.
Brooke took a moment to get her bearings, then added, “No—there’s still the time traveler, and Elliot, and Fergle-Pop, and the crazy guy gun.”
Gregory shook his head. “I’m sorry. They lost their mortal form. There’s nothing we can do for them.”
Steve looked up at the group, “If you really want to, Brooke can re-write them into existence.”
“It’s only for thirty seconds. Also, who are you?” Brooke said, confused. She looked over at the twins and their mother, “Who are those three?”
“Listen,” Steve said, ignoring Brooke, and raising his arms in protest. “It’s only for thirty seconds…. But we’re in a timeless plane. Time doesn’t exist.”
A goofy smile appeared on Brooke’s face. She took out her notebook, scratching the drawing. She poured into it her love and kindness and compassion—It was her magnum opus. The timer flipped, the drawing shimmered, and Fergle-Pop appeared above them.
“Ho Dilly! Where am I?” She said, excited. She buzzed through the sky, looking over the fiery plane beyond. The sulphurous vapors reminded her of her home planet, where she basked in the light of the great fire before she was taken to earth.
Brooke just smiled. “You’re free now, Fergle-Pop. Thank you, for everything you did for the world.”
Tears welled in Fergle-Pops seven eyes. “You’re too kind, Thank you.” She buzzed into the sky, away from the city, and out into the plane. She looked down and saw that everyone was equal here. They all burned in torment together, thick or thin, small or strong alike, and that was just alright.
Gregory sat around anxiously, “I guess that was touching, but, um, does anyone have a plan?” Gregory said, “Any advice from Buddha? He usually gives It anyway.”
“Just the standard ‘we are our own worst enemy’ speech.”
Steve’s eyes flashed with recognition. A slow grin spread on his face. “Actually, I know how to defeat him. We’re going to need two things, but you’re not gonna like this…” he trailed off.
“Please, do tell,” Brooke said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“We need a pizza, and a tommy-gun.”
Tommy-Gun Tommy sat around the arena waiting room, relaxing. A radio played Frank Sinatra—that’s classy—not as classy as his fedora. He sipped on a vanilla shake; It was almost as cool as he was.
A great rainbow light appeared in the center of the room with thunderous crash. Steve and Brooke appeared, bathed in glorious light. Tommy jumped back, grabbing his gun. His Tommy-Gun. Steve used his telepathy to speak in Tommy’s mind before he could shoot ‘em dead.
“Hey there. I see you’ve got a nice gun. I bet it goes brat-atat-tat. You shouldn’t use it on us though; we’re still small beef. But I’ve got the biggest of beef for a gun like that—big league talk.”
“you’ve clearly seen what my gun can do.” Tommy-Gun Tommy said.
“Yes sir! I’d like you to go brat-atat-tat on the man in the fedora. Know why? Because he thinks his fedora is better than yours.”
Tommy was aghast. “What a chump—That’s a real idear you have. I’m Tommy-Gun Tommy, and he won’t ever take my fedora!”
“Dank!” Brooke added.
Steve and Tommy stopped and stared at her for a second. Steve spoke only in her mind, “please, don’t say that, really.”
The three made their way towards the center of the arena. Talloran was nowhere to be found. Steve made the preparations, drawing the symbols. Brooke made her drawing, and Tommy-Tommy blew bubble gum. Fire lit in Brooke’s eyes. “Let’s end this.”
Steve nodded. He finished the incantation, summoning Talloran, who was—after all—part angel.
Talloran felt himself being summoned. Finally. A soon as he appeared, he reached out, using his mental powers to immobilize Brooke and Steve. Steve fought against him, and just like before, the two struggled.
Except this time, Steve was fighting for more than himself. Steve was fighting for Brooke. He was fighting for a mother who was torn from her children. He was fighting for a young half-angel, cut down before he could fulfill his destiny as the Antichrist.
Steve was fighting for peace, and this gave him strength.
He moved against Talloran, tackling him. “Now!” He screamed.
Tommy-Gun Tommy was standing off to the side of the arena, and he knew what that meant. Brat-atat-tat. Brat-atat-tat. Those chowdahheads won’t be going anywhere. Brat-atat-ta—
Tommy-Gun Tommy looked on in horror. His tommy-gun had jammed. What a muff; this was so Little League. He hoped his pops hadn’t noticed, otherwise he would get a telling. And his boys? Well, they would just know that Tommy-Gun Tommy was Little League. They could look and see. He looked over at Talloran and was filled with rage. He ran towards him—time to show that guy who was business.
Steve and Talloran rolled on the ground, still riddled with bullets from the Tommy's first salvo. Talloran jumped back in time—so did Steve, having all but Talloran’s mental powers.
Talloran couldn’t break the loop fast enough to escape both Steve and the bullets. But it still wasn’t enough; bullets couldn’t kill Talloran, they could only weaken him.
Brooke completed her drawing and flipped the timer. A pizza appeared in her hands. One second. She flung the pizza through the air, as only a Junior-Varity ultimate Frisbee player could. “Steve, NOW!”
Talloran saw the pizza flying high in the air—Pineapple—eight seconds.
Steve moved to catch the pizza, but Talloran used a mighty blast of his power to slow him. Ten seconds. Talloran reached high, awkwardly catching the succulent smelling pie. Blood poured from his bullet wounds, but that would soon be over. Twelve seconds
Talloran took a bite of the pizza and waited for his power to flare. Fourteen seconds. Except—Steve started laughing.
Confused, Talloran recognized a foul taste and texture in the pizza. Barbeque sauce, and Onions! Twenty-five Seconds. Brooke had drawn a barbeque pizza with onion-stuffed crust, and Talloran had taken the bait.
Talloran convulsed as his body began to break down. Instantly, the strands of his DNA unraveled, shedding layers of power. Talloran convulsed, attempting to blink back in time, but Matthew’s power was already gone. Thirty-Seconds. The pizza vanished.
Horrified, Talloran focused every effort to control Brooke, ignoring Steve. Brooke fought bravely, but soon Talloran had full control. He made her flip a page, and start drawing. He drew lines around a single word and made her flip the timer. “Boom”
Brooke’s book exploded in her hands. She flew back, bloodied and broken. If he couldn’t have her power, no one could.
Then he looked up, into the murderous eyes of Tommy-Gun Tommy. “Yes Sir! I’m Tommy-Gun Tommy, and if you think you’s fedora is better than mine, you’s plenny wrong!”
Tommy took his tommy gun by the barrel. Like a demented lumberjack, he bashed Talloran with the wooden stock. “Swim with the fishes, Little Leaguer!”
Steve weakly crawled towards Brooke. He reached out and grabbed her hand. The rest of her body was nowhere to be found, but this was enough. Steve absorbed her powers, and his body twisted and convulsed. On the ground, using his own blood, Steve drew a pineapple pizza.
Gregory sat at the fields of Elysium, taking to the Xavier, Xena, and their mother. They decided to return to Lodof. It was their home, and even though Elysium offered eternal rest, they had many long years ahead of them. With a flash of rainbow light, Heimdallr sent them back. “That’s it, Gregory. We’re even now.”
Gregory nodded. A light flashed around them, but it didn’t come from Heimdallr. Steve appeared, radiating power. His eyes shone with the light of a thousand souls, and his voice was like that of an endless chorus. “It’s over.”
With a flash, he re-drew Brooke into existence. “She deserves to rest here”
He snapped his fingers and vanished. Brooke gasped, looking around at Gregory. “What happened?”
Gregory sighed, and was speechless for a minute. “We won. We beat the Arena.”
“We never did get the perfect, immortal body.”
Gregory shrugged his shoulders “Well as long as we never leave here, we’re immortal.”
“What do we do now?” Brooke said, sitting on the endless green field. “I can draw anything, and it will stick around, so I guess that’s all powerful.”
Gregory mused, then smiled. He knew exactly what to do. “Let’s go annoy Buddha!”
What do you think of the ending? Hopefully it wasn't too confusing. This [PM] mini-series was a fun challenge to link everything together. Thanks everyone! Hope you liked it.
Posted Dec 6, 2018, 1:38 AM UTC · edited