Battle Royale! Game Complete!

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

This pattern of play continued for a few hands, bringing Itzal slowly down to 80%. Itzal thought hard. The highest hand was a royal flush. Even if, by whatever quirk of probability, Whit had a royal flush, it would not stop it from getting an equivalent hand in another suit. Itzal started searching through the deck, assembling its hand. It tried Spades, but couldn't seem to find the Ace. It then tried clubs. Same thing. No luck in hearts or diamonds either. Which must mean Whit had all the Aces. The fool really was lucky. Itzal rearranged its hand to be K-9 diamonds "All in."
Whit smiled with glee and matched the bet, putting his trust in luck.
Itzal laid down its hand, revealing its K-9 Flush.
"An excellent hand, I admit. " Whit said, slightly nervous, but still confident in luck." But not the best."
"No, Its not."
Whit pulled the dagger out of the cards and triumphantly turned his hand over. The look on his face when he saw his 4 aces with a king kicker was priceless.
"Its better than that hand though." Life began to rush back into Itzal, and it visibly sat up straighter. The energy sent visible ripples undulating across his skin.
Whit let out a cry of pain as his health dropped to 40%, bending over from the agony. Losing nearly a lifetime's worth of energy was the most excruciating thin he had ever experienced. He looked at his shaking hands, and saw that they had become wrinkled and bent. Whit cursed under his breathe.

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

---

Show Content

Spoilerwait, wait... What kind of poker are we playing? I'm not entirely sure how that round played out.

Also, I checked just now- a four of a kind is greater than a flush.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

Spoilerhe had a straight flush, K Q J 10 9

Originally posted on MSPA by Dragon Fogel.

---

Show Content

SpoilerYeah. Straight flush beats four of a kind. Royal flush is just the highest straight flush.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerI've kept a tab open explaining poker hands this entire game.

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

---

Show Content

SpoilerAlright, that makes writing the next bit easier. But What kind of poker is being played? I was assuming it was Texas Holdem... if that's the name of the poker where each player is dealt 2 cards, and there are 5 cards played out in the open.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerI'd been assuming everyone has their own 5 cards, and may trade in a certain number for new cards. In any case, Whit can't have the perfect 2 cards EVERY time. If Itzal couldn't construct a winning hand on one hand, it would take the 3% and do it on the next.

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

---

Show Content

SpoilerIt's true, he probably can't have the perfect two cards. Probably. But, things change as the cards move. Before I type my post, Can you tell me, what exactly Itzal's teleportation can do? I spent several paragraphs analyzing it, but the fact that Itzal can somehow check what every single card in the deck is, or something, really destroys my theorizing and also changes how the game can play out.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerItzal can teleport small objects short distances. It can do it fairly quickly, and does not actually need to be holding the item, but they have to be close. It has been doing a switch with the cards, so it is unnoticeable, Whit was right about that. Until now Itzal had been minimizing his use of it, more messing up Whit's ability to predict cards than to improve its own hand. Until this last strategy, which forced him to step it up a notch. As for its rate of teleporting, say about once a second, so he could rifle through the deck in less than a minute.
The item has to be a complete item, so he can't teleport parts of people away. it can't teleport liquids or gasses because they are not cohesive enough.

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

---

Show Content

Spoilerim going with two card poker, since that seems more standard.

Whit gritted his teeth. Had He just suffered misfortune? No, he didn't. At least, he wouldn't accept that he had. No, there was some requirement fufilled, a condition met that assured victory with the loss he had just sustained. Yes, that had to be it. He gave himself a quick evaluation. He felt older, and was visibly aged- but, did he actually lose anything? All of his life... It was simply temporarily displaced- he hadn't truly lost anything.
But, what had he gained? Well, first, he had gained a little knowledge. Itzal was able to go through the deck in the short time the last round lasted. It's speed was much greater than previously estimated. That meant it had an absolute control over the unknown cards.
Itzal denied chance any roll to play.
Whit sneered as he realized this. Itzal was obsessed with control, it seemed. Whit thought back, and realized this character trait defined Itzal well. Itzal's ability overall was to twist reality, to bend it to it's desires. Yet, even more, It obsessively desired to create traps, rooms, spaces that it held control over. Another thought clicked into place. The reason for this game was just to have absolute control. Itzal wanted to play a game where the rules were tight enough that it was capable of controlling every element inside of it. Well then... It had done a good job. Whit was panicing now, slightly. However, he had gained another thing through that round- something beyond Itzal's control.
When Whit lost, he saw it. He saw the look in the dealer's face. The dealer Knew that Itzal's cards were wrong. After all, it had gotten the perfect hand, a straight flush, right on the flop- but that was almost impossible. to do so, The flop had to have been three cards in order of the same suit. On top of that, the cards in Itzal's hand must have matched the suit and number. The dealer knew he had shuffled clearly and thoroughly. So, since he had, there was no reason at all for the cards to still be in order that it had come in. The dealer suddenly calmed. This was a game of chance. And it was possible, very weakly, that this was completely chance. Still, the doubt had set in. This doubt was what Luck had granted- an opening which Whit could aggregate to revive chance.
"Itzal is cheating."

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerWhit nailed Itzal in that analysis

"Cheating? Me? I think you are the one who is cheating" Itzal said, teleporting a card into Whit's sleeve."I don't have a card up my sleeve. You do."
Whit froze, feeling the card appear. His mind raced. Itzal now had proof that he was cheating, even though he wasn't technically cheating. He had nothing but his own word to back up his accusation, true as it may be, and Itzal had just compromised it. He tried to think of a way to ditch the card, but all eyes were locked on him now. Even if he did get rid of it, Itzal was liable to plant a new one there. He could try to push his cheating accusation further, and convince them Itzal had planted the card there itself. Or maybe it should retract the accusation, hoping Itzal would do the same? Getting caught would mean losing all his chips, and considering he was betting his life, that would be a death sentence.

Originally posted on MSPA by MyifanW.

---

Whit didn't see any other option- and even if one existed, he wouldn't have taken it. He pressed the accusation.

He drew the card from his sleeve. It was a 4 of spades. Whit realized that Itzal had moved a card in haste, taking a random one from the deck. He smiled. In the back of his mind, he realized how well things had fallen into place. The dealer began to speak, but Whit cut him off.
"Me, cheating? No, that would be impossible. First, logically, there would never be a reason for me to have a 4 of spades in my sleeve. What would I do with it? It's almost useless, and never worth substituting. Second, I could never have done this switch. Check the number of cards in this current deck."

The dealer wordlessly sifted through, interested. the count came up as 51.

"51 cards, right? If I had this card, or more cards, before hand, in order for me to lower the count of cards, I must have taken one more card then I put back in. "

Whit's words were rolling out easily now. His argument had already been created. The events of this game, events beyond the game, guided by fate, wove a bulletproof alibi for himself. All he needed to do was give it form.

"So, that means if I cheated, I must have taken from this deck. But, that's impossible, isn't it? I didn't cut this deck. The only cards I ever touched were the ones I was dealt. I couldn't have taken one without it being entirely obvious that I had only one card in my hand."

He turned to Itzal.

"So then, how did this card appear here? The same way you've been cheating. You can teleport objects. You've been ordering the deck to suit yourself. You've said so already, that you are capable of things beyond reality. But, it's true, I can't prove that you cheated here."

He turned back to the dealer.

"Still, it's enough, isn't it? The knowledge that it's impossible that I gained this card on my own, and the knowledge the Itzal here has the ability to cheat freely. It's enough to doubt Itzal's truthfulness."

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Before anyone could react, Itzal drew out a dagger and sliced the cord connecting his helmet to the board. The life counter blanked out, and Itzal darted away from the table, ripping the helmet off.
Whit pulled out his gun to shoot at Itzal, but Itzal had extra life, while Whit's had been drained, and Itzal disappeared into the crowd before he could get a shot off.
"Get him!" Whit cried. The dealer started talking rapidly into his walky-talky, and Whit spotted some large security personal enter the casino.
Itzal darted into the bank of machines, moving among the gamblers who had more of a sense of self preservation. As it moved, it started shifting, merging its cloak into its body and forming a black suit and tie. It slipped started grabbing things from other people. Snatching a hat here, a monocle there, snatching the can leaning against a machine. By the time it reached the other side of the casino, it was no longer a mysterious figure in a cloak, but a distinguished English gentleman. It had managed to shift its face into a semblance of normality, and as virtually indistinguishable from the other patrons. It crouched under one of the tables with a group of other gamblers, blending in as well as it could.

Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

---

Show Content

SpoilerUh, what crowd?

They're kinda all dead. All of them. Every single one that wasn't hiding.
So that leaves New Gadget, Whir, and I would only assume Jordan Smith (PC) and Maxwell Deakin (GBII) are hiding somewhere too.
so they only crowd there could be is the legion of the dead now rising from the floor i'm afraid. And they're not very calm anymore...
Imagine a crowd of meta-lutherions. With contestant powers instead of humanity.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerThe entire casino is dead? I knew there was massive slaughter going on, but I didn't think everyone had died. I thought the casino would be large enough for that to be a semi-localized scramble.

Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

---

Show Content

SpoilerIt was a pretty big explosion. Coupled with a near endless overdramatic rain of spike shrapnell. You know, the kind of thing Lutherion would love to die with?
I'm quite surprised Whit and Itzal didn't notice.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerThat would still be a localized thing. The post didn't seem to imply that it shrapnel the entire casino,just the brawl. If it did kill the entire casino, then everyone would be dead, including us, our dealer, etc. If it didn't, then there is still a crowd for Itzal to hide in. If the crowd is watching the fight, then it makes his stealing easier to pull off.
There are plenty of objects in the room that would block shrapnel from killing people outside of the immediate area. Slot machines and tables would prevent it from killing everyone in the world, even if the casino is a single room.

Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

---

Show Content

SpoilerI summon Schazer in attack mode.

Just kidding. I see it this way. We began with a room with 44 people, plus staff. 20 are dead, three are hiding and four are us. That leaves seventeen people who would probably not still be gambling in a crowd. I think the blast killing them is pretty fairgame. Zeke used the table for cover, naturally. And for relevance sake lets say that the whitmaw arrm exploded like a grenade, up and around. Your table is located a fair walk away from this battle next to the bar, and you'll have an undead deity between these two points, if I structured my mind map right.
Theres more than enough evidence to support that my likelihood is, well, more likely. All you have to change is "stole from crowd" to "looted corpses that may or may not be attempting to get back up"
I think i'll post in a bit.

Reserved, but an edit may occur so i'll wait a bit.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

Spoilerok, I'll edit my post then

Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.

---

Show Content

SpoilerActually? If it's better for story that you didn't blow everyone up, then I'd rather that was the case.

Pretty much if everyone being dead is bad for story, then everyone shouldn't be dead. This isn't meant to be a tally of how many corpses you can rack up; it's about the story.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerOk, I edited it. Everyone isn't dead, but the survivors are taking cover, hiding under tables, etc. Itzal is trying to blend in with them. I had been pictures hundreds of patrons, not 40.

Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

---

Show Content

SpoilerSchazer i am way ahead of you. You fear that they are dead, or at least normal zombies.
They are now, more or less, more powerful than they were in the battles. As soon as I figure out who is alive I will show you.

Heres a taster. Cabaret and Bae. Pretty cool dudes. Imagine them balls to the wall insane and crazier than lutherion and mime put together.

Now, I got work to do, and shit to throw at some fans with intent of colliding.

Also, I tought this was a total cool guys only casino where only us cool guys who are ported from the coolest minds get in.

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Show Content

SpoilerI assumed that this was not limited to merely those specific characters, but that type of character. From anywhere. Previously concieved of or not. I've never read any of the other battles so I've had no clue whom anyone else has been.

Originally posted on MSPA by Drakenforge.

---

Show Content

SpoilerFor future relevance, this is how I am structuring this.

Undead-uber:Steven (TBM), B, Aph, Bae (IS) Cabaret, Gestalt (GBII) Manikin (PC)

Alive, injured, ducked, etc: Blitz, Hatman, Alex, Lainey, Durokomets and Larus.

And the other three are hiding.
If you're really careful and are couting, you'll notice I am missing at least two.
No prizes for guessing why.

Mike's lifeless eyes surveyed the carnage. A cloud of smoke slowly passed over the crimson carpet, dyed red in the sea of blood. Movement. The vectors turned Mike's head as a shadow flew across the floor, but lost it almost instantly. Noise. Coughs and groans. They had been wrong. They had thought all humans were dead. Very wrong.

Mike slowly sank into a dark abyss. He couldn't breath, he couldn't see. He was helpless in a void of nothingness. Nothing but the feeling that he was sinking, very slowly, into a bad place. He was afraid, scared that his life was at an end. He didn't want to die, he was afraid of death. Death, to cause so much and yet fear the very thing I create for others. Light! A blinding light envelops his body, releasing him from the fears. He see's something. An image. No, more than that, he feels as though he is staring through the eyes of another person.
Mike recognises voices, blury, but certainly people. As the picture becomes larger and clearer so too does the sound.

"-saying, is that your son is not what medical science can call 'human'. It is a rare condition. Never before have we truly seen this effect in a boy before. The horns, yes, can occur, but to retain the genes found only in the females? I'm sorry, but we cannot, and will not, allow your son to leave this facility"

A man. This is the voice of a man. I, or whoever I am watching through, is looking up at this mans chin. I see a white coat, stuble, nose. Familiar. He almost reminds me of someone, but I cannot remember who...

"SICK BASTARD! I know about what you do here, torture! No child ever leaves this place outside of a body bag! I couldn't give a crap about your 'research', I want my baby!"

'Now it is a woman. The view turns to see her. Brown hair, blue eyes. She is pretty, maybe. I see anger, no, pure hatred on her face. Ah! My head. It hurts, why won't the pain go away!

'Nostalgia. Are these my memories? I don't know. The man mentioned 'horns'. Am I the baby being mentioned?
Turture. Facility. Research. These words were my life. These must be my earliest memories, making that woman my-


Mother.' A deep sadness filled Mike's heart at this revelation.

"Control yourself!" The man replied angrily, "If we allow this creature to roam the streets of a populated area, it would be a massacre! Your child may seem normal, but insanity always seeps into the brains of these creatures after infantcy. Always. The males are usually rare and recessive. Horns, baldness, normal eyes. They remain sane.
Your son is the missing link, I believe. Look at him. Hair, red eyes, horns. He'll grow 'them' too, the palm prints are always the first sign. He will become a monster, there is no doubt. To allow him to live in a carefree environment, well, he can't live in a sheltered lifestyle forever. In normal life, he would find himself in a situation he hates. then, the rage seeps in. He slaughters everyone around him, and continues to do so until he is killed. Every time.

"Even if you left him alone in a room somewhere, away from every person except you, he would grow to hate you for locking him up, and you would be the first casualty" The man concluded.

The woman, no, Mike's mother, broke down in tears. She had silently mouthed 'no' all through the man's speech, and couldn't take it. She looked the baby, Mike, right in the eyes.

'So, she did fight for my freedom, at least at first. Too bad it didn't work out eh? Heh, heh. Damn. Never knew I was so important to someone. This man as a research subject, and this woman as her son. Hmm. I think I remember killing the guy. Oh yeah. Fourteenth birthday. I loved the look of terror on his face, the bastard. Sure showed him for those years of malnutrition, drugs and 'endurance' training. My ass, no training involves a huge cannon pointed at my face. I can still feel those broken bones. Ugh. Still, ain't nothing to what I feel these days I guess

'But what about her? I know I saw her after this at least once, I wouldn't remember her otherwise'

The scene changes. The walls are broken, facility walls. Wide metal corridors with yellow painted markers. Guards, all armed. Ripped to bits, mostly. Their faces frozen forever in a painting of true terror. Mike's escape, slaughter of guards, and theft of the shotgun. The eyes turn to view a door opening at the end of the corridor. It's his mother, older now, wearing all black, yet smelling of blood. Theres a gun in her hand, and she looks scared. She mouths words to Mike, but the inner Mike cannot hear them. Past Mike takes a step forward, towards her. She winces, as if in pain, and raises the gun. She doesn't look like she wants to shoot, but the body stops. It bobs up in down, as if talking. She responds, waving her arm at Mike, then patting herself. Probably telling Mike who she is.
But too late. The madness seeped in. Mike has been locked in here a very long time.

'Wait. But I don't remember this. I don't even remember wanting to kill anyone of those guards. The doctor was different, he deserved to die! I-i, I don't know.
Why is this so confusing?'

Because you are the birth Mike

'What?'

You were there, and not here A dark voice responds.
You killed, and for that you were punished. But it was not the pain that broke you. You were traumatised by that death. Who were you to decide who lived and who died? But I was there for you. I nurtured you like you were my own son. i would never abandon you, even though twice you have forsaken me. You created the Mike you are now from your own desperate subconscious. All the bad emotions you felt, apart from fear, created this new persona for you. You were buried deep within your soul. A wise move, I believe, but sad, as I could not speak to the boy I created. I was left with the monster you left behind

'You. You're the thing that was talking to me earlier, werent you?' Mike responded, reffering to the waitress.

Aye. But now I am something... different. I gained the power to talk to you, the real you, and show you, this.

The vision comes back. Past Mike is now in range of mother. She believes I, no, he, remembers her. She canot see the vectors. Oh, how loving she must have been. She reaches her arm out towards the eyes. Flash. Her fingers are falling from her arm in pieces. The vectors move with inhuman precision, dicing her horribly. She does not flinch. Is it shock? Or, is she prepared to die by her sons hands?

Inner Mike looks away as his mother is brutaly murdered with a dark, sick manner. He loots the gun, the image fades, and the voice returns.

That is the instant you really truly snapped. It was then that I deemed you worthy of this battle. Now, I will releash you. Control the monster, and you will gain it's strength. That's the theory, anyways.

The abyss fades. No more sinking, no more void. Mike's essence fills the empty void in his head. His eyes flare back, brighter than ever. He feels the pain in his horn, and that is agonising. The ribs hurt too. But, to feel pain, it shows he is alive. To him, that is much better than the void.
Mike snaps to reality. A lot of people are fighting. It looks like people who are bloodied and covered with spikes are attempting to hunt down survivors. Zeke is repelling two masked fgures who look exactly the same, but the spikes are in different places. One has none near his chest, the other is peppered with them. He is falling back, one step at a time. The two figures are lauging, hacking, slashing. The more injured one is attacking with a, no way. An arm, with it's hand wrapped around a sword. His arm is holding an arm holding a sword. The other is fighting with a knife, and both are being remarkably skilled.
"Zeke" Mike mouthed, flexing his neck, "Parties over. Let's round these leftovers up and move on to the real business at hand."
Zeke didn't turn or raise his head, but Mike knew he got the picture.
'Right. So, i'm in control. Still gotta kill people, well, after what I just saw I know I have no other choice. It's good to be back though'
He raised the left vector in an overhead swing and brought it down on the floor, gaining the attention of several undead
Mike smiled. Not the wild, bastardly grin he was now no doubt noticibly lacking, but an honest smile. The kind of warm hearted smile thay creeps you out more than the mad grin even though it's not trying to.
"Well then, let's begin. Mike Shaun has arrived"

A pink humanoid, undead, flies across the battlefield with a sword hanging from it's limp arms. It's cackles, swings, and slams the sword full force into a blocking vector. It moves it's head closer to say, "I have no lovers, boooyyy. Ha! I shall love you then! TILL DEATH DO US PART!"

Show Content

SpoilerOw. My eyes. 3am, need slee. Sorry to cliffhanger it there but the keyboard i'm using right now has become a bit unresponsive. It's not my usual one, and it's been missing out stuff even when I know i'm typing it. So, tomorrow I will edit out any typos that I have missed. Feel free to find some flaws for me. Or anything that didn't make sense. Hope this did though. It didn't feel right typing it out. I think my sense of perspective is broken. That or i'm tired. Are my posts similer to what I wrote? Damn doubting myself. Night guys, Schazey

Originally posted on MSPA by Mystify.

---

Itzal crouched beneath its table, examining the ensuing chaos around it. What in the world happened while he was playing poker? Itzal decided not to get involved until some sanity was restored.
This was not to say it was going to remain inactive. Itzal started analyzing the situation. It needed to gain control of the situation once it calmed down. It couldn't do that by huddling under a table. Itzal took out some of its fishing line, and took out some of its larger pyrotechnics. One by one, it started preparing tricks to deploy later.