The entrance to the colleseum

OOC- Ok, to avoid any confusion, only the two current fighters of a match will post at the arena at a time. Spectators can as well, but they won't be counted in the posting order, seeing as they arn't really doing anything other then watching. I will post the arena after this. This topic is where fighters will prepare for their match or converse in wait.


Above the vast oceane known as the pacific lay the massiv colleseum where the world tournament would be heald shortly. At the front of the giant building was two open gates, reaching about twenty feet in height and made of pure wood. Both were open allowing the oceane around the floating area to be seen by any in the area. The first room was rather simplistic. It had a floor of gray steel with red-painted walls with chairs miscellaniously placed throughout the room, though mainly along the walls. There was one 48 inch wide-screen television directly above the doors where all could see from inside that showed the entire arena in the next room over which was empty at the moment. At the far end of the rather large room was another doorway, though thise one was closed with the same types of gates as at the front. Beside the gate was two levers that would trigger the gates to open for thirty seconds before they closed again later. After ten feet of distance past the gates would be the arena, a 50 by 50 feet white-tiled area surrounded by more steel ground for ten more feet of distance. For thirty feet around that were stands with seats for spectators to watch the match. However, the arena had a glass ceiling showing the dark-red sun in the sky because of it being mid-afternoon at 6:00 PM. Above the two doors leading to the arena was a large listing with several names all printed out stating what matchs were to occur first, second, third, and so on.

Zane Hataro, The being who devised this all and created the massiv colleseum, stood right next to the right-wall leaning his back against it with a bored expression on his face. The whole reason he started this was to get some opponents to kill his bordom with. Now, the question was who were they? He had known their names from signing up at an earlier time, but never personally met any of the combatants, so he ddn't really know what to expect from them. He himself was skilled in several types of combat, though only specialized in one specifically. That being his home-world's combat style. Of course, even if any of those who came knew him before, he had taken in a much different appearance now from his past events at the invasion site of the Ezen. Though, any who fought in the same area as him during the demon invasion should have been able to recognize him in this state from the form he toke during the fight.

Adriano walked through the doors into a massive arena carrying on his back a duffel bag filled with spare clothing. He looked around to see but a single person here so far. With a bit of confusion, he looked at his cell phone to check the time.
"I must be a little bit early."

Katachi attempted to get there as soon as possible. If this was going to be a place where the strongest people were gathering, then this was easy picking for his goal. However he knew that if he openly started a brawl with everyone, he would get overwhelmed. With this in mind, he decided to play it safe and fight in this tournament as fairly as possible. Where he would defeat them one on one. His real goal was to collect their DNA, inside his fight or by stealing it from another. Win or lose, he would walk out of this stronger then when he walked in.

He took the form of a bald eagle and flew in the direction of the massive arena. He chose a bald eagle since it would give him the least complications in terms of the food chain and civilian sports. The arena was fairly high up. Giving a little strain for the form he was in, but it mattered not. He made it up and saw two giant doors that stood open for the contenders and spectators. After he landed, he started to transform, back to his "Normal" form. His transformations were always bloody. But this was a ruse. His brain was hidden in there for now, and the "Normal" Form was cloned. He knew his brain would be ok. He would turn it into a civilian later, but for now he gave his clone almost all of the strength. This way, he could always keep attacking from a resting state. He would also control the clone from a distance at will.

Katachi saw Zane leaning against the wall. He stretched his arms behind his back, getting use to this new form. He walked in Zane's direction. "Hey" The clone was commanded to say to Zane, "Are you Zane? The owner of this event?"

Obsidior was the next to arrive, his arrival wasn't early, but it also wasn't late. Obsidior crouched low as the large wooden gates came into site, he was riding his energy board at blinding speeds, the lower he got the less drag he encountered. "Not to shabby." he said to himself as he passed through the gates and slowed down dramatically. Obsidior looked around and saw a few people, "This party is dead, even for me.....and that is kinda my things guys." he said loud enough for every combatant that has arrived thus far to hear him, as he spoke he jumped off the board and literally hit the ground running.

"Maybe it will liven up in the near future" he said quietly to himself as he fixed his over-shirt and slowed to a walk.

The artist was ready to go. He had a small bag with some personal items: Equipment for new specialized brushes, ink bottles, a toothbrush (Oral B Triumph), and a change of clothes. He also had 3 books: The Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy Complete and Unabridged by Douglas Adams (he was in so long, and thanks for all the fish), If I Stay by Gale Forman, and Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince by J.K Rowling. He had decided to hire a private pilot to drop him there. He called over a taxi to take him to the guy’s farm, just outside of town. The taxi was a normal taxi for the most part, tough it was white instead of yellow. The drive was about 3 hours. He read Harry Potter to keep himself occupied. Finally, he arrived outside the farm. The taxi bill was 200$. This man had a row of planes beside his house, and behind the house, he could see the rows of weed and corn. It was a small, 2 man plane, built for a pilot and co-pilot. When they were over the Colleseum, he would go to the back with the parachute he was issued and jump. Take off was smooth, and so was the flight. 4 hours, 10 chapters and 1 dead Dumbledore later, they were over the island. The guy circled the island, has the artist left a 200$ bill, put his parachute around his back, then, taking a deep breath, he jumped. Free falling was an amazing experience. Though utterly terrifying, the feeling was sensational. As he saw the group nearing, he pulled his parachute. As it caught the air, he was jerked vertically. As he landed, the butterflies in his stomach stopped. He looked down a t his wrist

Ink level: 100%

By some means of luck, he managed to hit the ground on the island, outside the giant stadium. He walked though the giant wooden gate and into the opening room. The first thing that struck him was the giant TV above the doors. They showed a picture of what looked life the arena. He saw two others in the room. He looked to his left and on the wall were the matchups. The Ink Master vs. Nightkill. he looked to the other two. “Either of you Nightkill?”

Nightkill flew in. Literally, in a jet. First class, some elegance was needed. He reflected on the fact this man had placed a tournament in the sky.

THE SKY! Amazing, truly was. Nightkill mainly went in order to see it for himself. The fighting was an added bonus. Although he felt a bit disturbed Mist was coming.

He glanced up from his book, Shadow of the Hegemon. "You sure you want to fight?" he asked curiously. "We have gone over some basic swordsmanship and taekwondo, but you truly feel you'll be ready? I don't want you to get hurt out there." he said honestly, as they walked into the stadium, their plane docking.

Nightkill heard a person yelling in the room with them. "Obviously, it's the twelve year old girl who is Nightkill." he said with heavy sarcasm in his voice.

Shadows pooled on the floor as Nightmare rose out of the ground with both hands in his pockets and his body completely in cased in shadows with only his glowing red eyes showing, As the shadows melted away it revealed a handsome teenager with tan skin, Long black hair and forest green eyes. The newcomers build was athletic meant for moving around while also being wiry muscled. Nightmare glimpsed at the screen and shrugged looking around at all the other contenders and grinned imagining the Horrors he could bring to this fight.

Nightmare walked away to a hot dog stand grabbing two extra large chili conies with a large bag of crunchy Cheetos and a diet soda before walking back to the stands and sat down, He wrapped a shadow NO 1 finger on his right hand and cheered. "Let's go tournament let's go".

Mist nodded. She wanted a chance to utilize her powers with real combat. The tournament wasn't a lethal one, it was a good reality check on her progress. "I think so... You be worrying about yourself!" She was still slightly traumatized about the instance where Nightkill got shot and almost bled to death.

Her abilities gave her a high advantage, she knew. Though her enemies could have weapons and powers, she had the ability to evade and disarm. Mixed with her newly learned skills, though at a novice level, she thought she stood a good chance.

As the Jet containing a few of the other fighters emptied itself of its occupants, a few attendees started unloading random baggings. They were fairly surprised, however, to find Chainer asleep in the Luggage racks. The swordsman was wrapped up in a cargo net, sleeping soundly. One of the attendees started towards him, and Chainer woke instantly.

" *Yawn* Man, nothing like a good nap." The ex gang member made his way off the back of the jet, giving the astonished luggage handler a pat on the shoulder as he passed. Chainer was in his old outfit, trying to look semi-professional for the tournament. It was a black tunic with tribal patterns overlaying his standard non-range-restrictive clothing. Comfort above all else. The swordsman walked closer to the crowd gathering nearby.

"So is this the freak show I got invited to, or am I in the wrong place?"

An elephant flew through the sky. Charging, it seemed, towards the gates. Before it reached the gates, the elephant turned into Dr.Everyone, who then did a front flip and landed on his feet at the gates.

"A shame you all showed up. A waste of your time. Because you'll not only all lose to me, you'll also be humiliated. Now can someone please tell me who I am going against first?"

The Centurion walked up and took a deep breath, he loved the smell of the Colosseum and he was dress for the part. He palmed the hilt of his own sword, while looking down at the hilt of the dead aliens. He thought to himself, how he wished he had his other vestments. Regardless he was confident, he was sure none of the other contestants had experience performing in front of crowds the way he did. Once the roar started, it could shake you, he'd seen it a hundred times.

"Now is my time to shine! I shall leave my mark here and from this day forward, all shall know the name of the Avatar of Mars, the Centurion."

Zane just continued to lean back against the wall as if he was just any other combatant in the area while those he would be facing arrived, one by one, minut by minute. It then became apparent that one of the contenders was asking of his name and athority. Boredly, he replied in his casual tone of voice at the one who had directed the question to his being. :That would be correct.. And I asusme you'll be a participant? Zane didn't bother to tell them all how this was going to be played out since the rules and listings of battle were all writen in large text above the two doors that lead to the arena. Anyone who could read would know what to do as long as they wern't too lazy to even bother looking up

"Who the fuck is Centurion?" Slamfist stood at the gates, bottle of vodka in hand, the portal Overmind had created closing shut behind him. "And Obsidior? That cunt's here?" Slam smiled at that one, knowing full well his old friend could hear him. He began walking forward, through the large gates, still looking up at the contestant's names. Once hte names were impossible to read he finally looked forward and brought the bottle up to his lips, finishing off the last half in 2 big gulps. "I assume by the name I'm fighting the bloke that's dressed far too appropriately for this bout?"

Nightkill glanced at the names again, and frowned. "Slamfist and Obsidor?" he asked, sounding mildly worried. "Well, nobody can die here, the person in charge won't allow it." he said, walking over to the nearest water fountain.

After his drink he walked back to Amy and the other man, still a bit worried.

Obsidior turned around to the booming Australian voice, once he saw his old friend Slamfist a smile stretched across his face. It was good to see a familiar face, and as long as he wasn't fighting him, it would be fun to see him barrel through the competition. "Well hot damn." Obsidior exclaimed as he walked up and patted Slamfist on the shoulder.