Otaku Melee - Steelport

It had been five years since the last successful Otaku Melee. Characters, famous or unknown, brought together to fight to the death.
Who ran these fights? A mysterious corporate entity? Some all powerful being? Perhaps just the forces of the universe themselves, with a simple catalyst of greed. Shapeshifter, space cowboy, goofy robotic cop, former military operative turned cyborg, it took all types.

Somewhere in a room filled with pizza boxes, a large man sat on his bean bag chair, cheeto stained fingers, staring at a television screen. He had managed to finish his marathon of every single Final Fantasy game, and he grew bored. As he took out Final Fantasy XXVII-3 from his Playstation 8, and he noticed a disc of a game he didn't remember purchasing. Not entirely surprising, when you purchase as many games as he does.
The disc was labelled OTAKU MELEE. Sounded appealing. He popped it into the console to give it a go.


Our title screen is in tribute to Otaku Melee's first winner, Spike Spiegel.

Yes, welcome to Otaku Melee. We're approaching our third anniversary for Grand Battles, so it seems appropriate to pay tribute to where it all started. Taking characters from other places and using them as your own. That's right, you don't have to be original to participate in Otaku Melee, just take a character you like that already exists. You are free to use your own original character, too, I suppose. I GUESS. I mean, that's what I did when I played and was awful. I don't think I ever picked up on the fact that most people took characters from other things at the time.

Aside from our lax character originality rules, there are a few other differences.
There's no specific number of characters. We can start with a minimum of four, so we'll probably go until that fills up.
Whoever dies gets to choose the next round. In some Otaku Melees this is explained by the victim's last thoughts shaping the world or whatever, but I'll have some sort of other explanation that we'll roll with okay just deal with it.
Whoever dies is up to a vote. Just straight up a vote. I'm tiebreaker but fuck yo' opinions this is a DEMOCRACY. AMERICA!
I'm sort of a player. I mean, usually the host is actually using a character separate from running the whole thing and can be killed and everything, but I'll post alongside folks as this dork at the controller. Probably. Basically I'm not being a real character because YOU KNOW MY REPUTATION FOR ACTIVITY.

This is also bound to be fairly sillier than your standard GB fare. But don't get confused, this isn't a Grand Failure. You aren't trying to be deliberately bad or anything. Keep your standards up. Write well. But don't be afraid to just go wild.

Also, Times dropped the ball and whatever he's not even a real eagle timer anyways his character is now Open Source. Anybody that isn't already playing as another character can write for his character (Manic the Hedgehog). He can still be eliminated by vote, but now it's just a collaborative character. Hooray!

And to finish up this post, let's have a traditional style entry sheet, as it is in the originals.

Solaris - Almond - #5E2618
Dragon Fogel - Mint - Purple
elpie - Superman - Blue
Nottles - The One Electronic - DarkViolet
Ixcaliber - Chell - Orange
MrGuy - Eggplant Wizard - #835EC5
Schazer - Ishimaru Kiyotaka - #D99C2B
Anybody at all - Manic the Hedgehog - Green

Character Name: Almond
Username: CucumberFan17
Color: Almond (#5E2618)
Brief Description:

Weapons: A sword that she stole from a thief's treasure stash. It's pretty and probably magical or something but she wouldn't care much if it was or wasn't.

Personality Breakdown: Almond is brave, courageous, headstrong, and haughty. She wants, more than anything, to be a hero. She wants to go on an adventure, fight bad guys, and show what she can do to the world. This has led to a few less than logical choices in the name of making it an adventure or for bravado.

Don't take this to mean that she's all about FIGHT KILL MAIM, she's not a bully. While she prefers to go for the option that has the most excitement, she isn't going to go and fight anyone who doesn't deserve it. In addition, she's smart for her age, especially in terms of media and story telling, resulting in the sort of genre savvyness that one might get from watching too much television. However, as you might gather from her past, she doesn't always use this to a positive effect.

Character Name: Mint (Threads of Fate)
Username: Dragon Fogel
Color: Purple
Brief Description: Mint is the former princess of East Heaven Kingdom, kicked out by her sister Maya. Primarily for being a spoiled brat.
In response to this indignity, Mint has vowed to conquer the world and get revenge on her sister. She had a plan that involved searching for a legendary relic, but that didn't work out. Still, she learned a few spells along the way, so it wasn't a complete waste of time.
Mint has long red hair which is mostly contained in two ponytails (or are they pigtails? I'm not a hair expert) on the side of her head. She wears a purple outfit and matching hat, and carries two large golden rings with her everywhere.
Weapons: Mint wields two oversized golden rings, which serve as melee weapons. She also has several elemental spells, and a jump-kick that she's fond of using on anyone who annoys her. (Which is almost everyone.)
Personality Breakdown: Mint is a spoiled brat. She bosses around everyone she meets, and she has a very foul mouth. (Although due to a strange speech defect, any swear word she says comes out as "[expletive]".) Oh, and she wants to rule the world.
Mint's not evil, though. She's just selfish. She's been known to give people a hand, though she's hardly polite about it; and really, if some villain showed up, she'd make it a point to stop him. After all, she's got a world to take over; she can't let somebody else conquer it instead.

Character Name: Superman
Username: elpie
Color: Blue
Brief Description: Black hair, muscles, Kryptonian costume*
Weapons: Only himself
Personality Breakdown: First-generation immigrant and all-around great guy

*This is pre-Flashpoint Superman, no dumb-looking armor

What would the Otaku Melee be without a guy who says he's going to post a profile and it's gonna be great, but then he doesn't

Or it's mediocre and he never really posts

Either way I'll at least be keeping this on my to-watch list

The One Electronic

SpoilerShow

Color: DarkViolet

Brief Description: A centuries-old vagrant robot of deceptively simple design. Has an old-style television monitor for a head. Likes his smokes. Does not age. Wears a violet trenchcoat, business slacks, black shoes, and cartoonish white gloves. On a quest to find the one who will fulfill a prophecy that will restore something something something, it's probably not important.

Weapons: Knife, fists, sith lightning (but yellow (so, like regular lightning? but... from his hands)). Decent at improvising weapons, too.

Personality Breakdown: Cynical, moody, strong-minded. Slightly obsessive about his godly quest.

What would the Otaku Melee be without a guy who says he's going to post a profile and it's gonna be great, but then he doesn't

Or it's mediocre and he never really posts

oh man sign me up!

Character Name: Chell [Last Name Unknown]
Username: Chelldos4eva
Color: Orange
Brief Description: She was an Aperture Science Test Subject. She formed an emotional connection with a cube with a heart on it, escaped the course and destroyed the AI in charge of the facility twice. She has black hair tied back in a ponytail, an orange jumpsuit with the Aperture Science logo and a pair of very sturdy leg-braces that can withstand any fall no matter how far.
Weapons: 1x Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device: when used upon applicable surfaces creates one of a pair of linked wormholes (orange or blue).
Personality Breakdown: Mute, possibly brain damaged, Chell has demonstrated an inability to communicate with others. Chell is abnormally tenacious, having been able to overcome challenges far beyond the capabilities of others. She will pursue any chance of escape no matter how slight and how unlikely, and she has a tendency to beat the odds.

Character Name: Captain Minamitsu Murasa
Username: Wjjn
Color: Something cyan

Brief Description: Grumpy funa-yurei girl with messy short black hair, sporting a sailor outfit, walks either slouched or hunched over from either boredom or a bad back. Ghosts don't eat or sleep, but that doesn't mean they don't get dark circles or get thinner. Though she's physically fit, Minamitsu is unhealthily thin. Her black combat boots are waterproofed. No one knows how her hat stays on. It could be a ghost hat.

Weapons: Carries a ladle that can scoop up infinite amounts of water, which has little practical use basically anywhere. She carries an anchor on her back to which she is spectrally tied, but she sees it as a weapon more than a restraint.

Personality: Someone with the power to sink ships can't say that they don't feel a little malice over something. Nobody likes funayurei. As a vengeful ghost used to being hated, being promised change in the form of the buddhist youkai temple of Byakuren Hijiri is about the best thing that can happen. Nobody likes Murasa, but the people in the human village she now lives in at least respect her. She's shown a neverending loyalty to Byakuren, but also a short temper and bad habits she's still not rid of.

SpoilerShow

This is also bound to be fairly sillier than your standard GB fare.

wait.. is, is that possible?
(Note: I have not actually read any full grand battles, so I just know the weird trivia, y'know, like how vacuum cleaners win and stuff)

Character Name: Eggplant Wizard
Username: Sceffrey Jott
Color: purple as fuck
Brief Description: A vaguely aubergine-appearing humanoid with a single eye, slimy lips and a snail-like foot. About five feet, four inches tall.
Weapons: A sheperd's staff with a purple gem hanging from the crook. Capable of summoning various fruits and vegetables, which possess odd properties - including functioning as simple machines (e.g. a radio-controlled, flying sweet potato).
Personality Breakdown: A coward and a traitor, he cares little for anyone other than himself, forming alliances just to break them off the instant they become inconvenient. He avoids direct conflict when possible (sending in allies to do the job instead), and fights dirty when not. Greedy and gluttonous. Lacks self-esteem, but abuses power as soon as he gets a chance at it, as if making up for lost time.

Character Name: Ishimaru Kiyotaka
Username: Nipponjin
Color: Bold as brass
Brief Description:

SpoilerShow

"For me, this uniform is enough. 365 days a year, rain, cloud or shine!
School may be on holiday, but there is no holiday from being a student!!
That's why as long as I'm a student I will always have it on me!"

White gakuran, black calf-length boots, utter incomprehension of how to comport himself in a social situation.
Weapons: None
Personality Breakdown: He is a Super High School Level Hall Monitor, who values order and a thorough immersion in school life and activities. He normally declares things in a shout for EMPHASIS. He doesn't understand how social situations work. At all. He may or may not be one sufficiently worldview-shattering experience from becoming completely unhinged.

SpoilerShow

Times is allergict to Eagle Time so here is his profile.

Character Name: MANIC THE HEDGEHOG
Username: SHHHHHH
Color: green
Brief Description: LIKE MARIO, BUT COMPLETELY DIFFERENT AND A HEDGEHOG and green
Weapons: SHOES, JUMPING, CHAOS EMRALDS

Personality Breakdown: A green whirl of Chaos is crying in the fabric of reality—it is running

“GOTTA GO FAST” he screams with all the empathy of the weak nuclear force

gotta go fast

the atoms in his face ionize into plasma as he moves nine tenths the speed of light. can you feel me, brotha?

he lives in us, all of us, in our hearts; representative of that darkness in our souls, the abyss, x-gen/90’s aesthetic turned zombie franchise:

you can’t ever escape tails, he can freaking fly

The game console should not have been glowing purple. Green, sure. Sometimes blue. Rarely it gives off a golden glow and that's always a delight, and usually glowing red means something's gone on but he's never heard of a purple glow. Still, the console seemed to be working anyways, so he didn't worry about it.

-NEW GAME

-NUMBER OF CONTESTANTS

Is this multiplayer? He found the case and it was strangely bare. Other than the title on the cover, it didn't tell anything about it. It mentioned how much room it took on his hard drive (An absurd amount. He only had six terabytes of space left and it asked for two!), a required online connection, but what else is new there, and single player. Hm. Whatever, he turned it to the default, which turned out to be eight.

-RANDOM CONTESTANTS?

You know most games manage to integrate these menus more organically into the game than just a straight up colored screen with text options. But yeah, sure. He'll go more in depth on a seperate playthrough probably.
It spent a few minutes to actually load the next screen, the console glowing particularly strongly throughout. What appeared was a lot of gawking at the kind of lineup you see as part of those The Next Smash Bros Lineups things on deviantArt.

The Eggplant Wizard, Chell, freaking Superman. Okay okay they seem to have brief profiles, perhaps he should take a look.

Almond
Cucumber Quest
Brave and headstrong, Almond wants nothing more to be a hero and lives for adventure.

Mint
Threads of Fate
Formerly a princess, she got booted from her kingdom and quickly vowed revenge, unsuccessfully.

Superman
Action Comics
The Man of Steel, send from his exploding home planet, became a hero of Earth.

The One Electronic
Rice Boy
Cynical and a bit moody, this never aging robot never falters from pursuing his quest.

Chell
Portal
Despite being perhaps a bit out of it, she never gives up no matter what's against her.

Eggplant Wizard
Kid Icarus
Cowardly and self-obsessed, he proves surprisingly effective at utilizing produce.

Ishimaru Kiyotaka
Dangan Ronpa
Super High School Level Hall Monitor, cares for nothing more than order and scholarly duty.

Manic the Hedgehog
Sonic Underground
Brother to Sonic and Sonia, he quests to find their mother with the power of drums.

Okay. He supposed he'll select one of the characters to play as or something? Well the next step would be to select a starting stage, oh geez uh there are a lot of options.


Mmmm okay. Steelport. That should be good.

"You want to start this game now
Or, you want to create the first character"

This game could have used a better translation. Which is a bit weird because of all the western licenses it has. Still, the first option seems to be fine.

Once again the machine glows purple more intensely as a highly well rendered version of Steelport appeared on the screen. He could see some of the characters show up in various places, before a character creation screen appeared over top of it. Things were moving in the background, so supposedly there was a reason for it to get going a bit before you're ready. Well, he supposed he should still get this done as soon as po-

"Frances! Dinner time!"
"Mother, I am thirty two years old, I don't need to be told when dinner is!"
"So you don't want any of the sweet and sour pork, honey?"

Frances grumbled. Just you wait, Otaku Melee. He'll be back.

SpoilerShow

While Frances Johnson is busy doing something else, he left the game running! And nobody told him that purple interdimensional energies are really harmful to the power bill. So let's talk about where we are.
The name of the game is Saints Row: The Third. We're starting out in Steelport, where a gang war is ensuing.
You've got the Morningstar, your basic kind of gang, they've got the most power in the city but aren't particularly special.
Then there's the Deckers, a bunch of hackers who have like, troncycles and laser guns and weird sci fi rollerblade things.
After that is the Luchadores. A gang comprised of luchadors. Need I say more?
Last, but definitely not least, you have the Third Street Saints. Hailing from Stilwater, they don't take opposition kindly. And have a hell of a lot of neat and destructive toys.
Non gang related is STAG. They're a military operation bent on destroying all gangs. They have VTOL jets and laser tanks.

Next thing he realised, Ishimaru found himself in a bar.

The "next" would imply there was something preceding his discovery, but even the dawning unease of no recollection whatsoever failed to register. A bottle-lined wall, a sticky counter, and the crack of a rack being broken a couple pool tables over, all mixed and percolated swiftly into a horrible realisation.

Ishimaru was in a bar.

Being in a bar under 21 was against the law.

He stood, marched through the nearest door, marched out of it a few seconds later when he realised it was a bathroom, then tromped past a disinterested barkeep and left the bar for real. From there, the kid ran straight out into traffic, and flinched at the scolding blare of a taxi. It was more on dazed instinct that Ishimaru leapt from its path, sprawled on the footpath and indulged a panic attack as he stared across the street.

He had jaywalked.

He had obstructed traffic.

He'd found himself in a bar.

The taxi driver swore at him, driving off with a middle finger in farewell. Ishimaru just sat there, traumatised.

El Borado was not having a terribly exciting day. He'd been told to just sit in this alley and keep it secure for some sort of meeting. And, of course, nothing had happened. All he'd done for the past three hours was polish his baseball bat. There hadn't even been any unsuspecting victims to mug. He let out a small sigh; why did he always get the boring jobs?

Then, suddenly, a strangely-dressed girl appeared out of nowhere.

"What the [expletive]? Where is this place?"

El Borado was startled at first, but then he noticed the large golden rings the girl was carrying. And the fact that she'd materialized with her back to him. He picked up his bat and rushed at her.

He didn't remember a lot about the next five seconds, just that they ended with him on the ground and that his face hurt like hell. And judging by her expression, she wasn't done with him yet.

"All right, [expletive]," Mint said angrily. "What is this place, and how did I get here?"

"Uh," El Borado mumbled. "Welcome to Steelport?"

Then he passed out, aided by another swift kick to the face. Mint glared at his unconscious form and kicked him a few times in the stomach, but he was out cold.

"Great. Guess I'm not getting anything else out of him," she grumbled. "Well, I'd better find a map or something and figure out where this 'Steelport' place is. And if they've got anything that can help me take over the world."

She turned around and walked out of the alley, only to find a tall man in a blue suit and red cape standing in her way.

"Excuse me," he said in a calm tone of voice. "Did I just hear you mention something about taking over the world?"

"Great, just what I needed. A goody-two-shoes [expletive]," Mint sighed.

Wasting little time, she leapt up and kicked Superman in the face.

It was not in the least bit unexpected, in the Wizard's line of work, to pass through trans-dimensional tunnels; and, with his luck, materializing about twelve feet too high and promptly engaging in a pratfall was downright old hat.

It was only after picking himself off the ground and dusting off his elbows did he realize that this was not, in fact, the icy world of Climber's Peak, but rather a moderately grimy city street, which the ambulatory eggplant had only just registered when a truck blared its horn. He slowly turned his head to face it, and upon realizing what was going on, ducked just in time for it to fly over his head, doing a sweet flip and landing in a river below.

After staring in confusion at the sinking vehicle for several seconds, the wizard quickly became aware that it was probably a good idea to move out of the street, so he quickly shuffled over to the sidewalk. Alright, so you're in the wrong place and King Hippo is nowhere to be found and everyone's scowling at you. Stay cool as a cucumber, and you'll be fine. This attitude was rudely contradicted when a man in a neon-lined jacket shoved an assault rifle into the space directly above his eyeball.

Wire-Lester gave an oft-practiced asymmetrical grin. "W31c0m3 2 57331p0r7, m07h3rfuck3r. H4nd 0v3r the w41137."

Though briefly distracted by contemplating how you can pronounce numbers as letters, Eggplant's reflexes managed to give him enough time to cower and yell "I don't have anything! Don't hurt me!" as vegetables popped into existence behind him. The Decker raised an eyebrow at this, but shrugged it off quickly.

"7h3n I gu3ss I'11 ki11 y0u jus7 f0r fun. C4n'7 hur7 my s7r337 cr3d." If the aubergine was capable of breaking out in a sweat, he would have done so as Wire-Lester's finger gently pulled back on the trigger. Desperate, he said the first thing that came to mind:

"HEY LOOK A TRUCK'S DOING SOME RAD FLIPS BEHIND YOU"

The mugger glanced over his shoulder, proving himself officially more stupid than a vegetable. He quickly determined that no awesome flips were, in fact, occurring, and wheeled his head back around just in time to notice the electrified sapodilla fruit being shoved down his shirt. He quickly convulsed (to Eggplant's surprise, not lighting up and showing his skeleton) and collapsed to the ground. The wizard kicked the rifle aside, thought for a moment, and promptly took the man's wallet. Turnabout is fair play, after all.

He moved a couple of steps before getting the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. Finally, he realized it, and turned back to the hopefully-only-unconscious man: "Hope you enjoyed that taseberry!" After giggling far more than he honestly deserved, he coughed, wiped his eye, and shuffled away as fast as he could manage.

SpoilerShow

oh god Steelport?
why? why did I not join this?

Players should also note the abundance of clothing stores and highly efficient plastic surgeons.

"[expletive]!" cried Mint, rubbing her ankle. "Some jaw you got, Mr., uh, S."

"It's Superman," responded Superman. "You're new to this world, aren't you? I showed up here just a minute ago."

Mint shrugged. "New to this city, maybe. World, can't say for sure."

"I've been having a look around," said Superman. "We don't seem to be in any of the fifty-two main Earths, so I'd say we're occupying some sort of extradimensional... you know. A realm. Will you excuse me for a bit?"

Mint rolled her eyes. "Take all the time you need."

"Thank you." Superman took off into the sky for three seconds before returning. "Sorry. Wherever we are, it's busy. These people have got enough on their plate without newcomers like you making trouble."

"[Expletive], I beat up one mugger and make a few completely innocent cracks about world conquest and now I'm the villain."

"If you want my advice--"

"I don't."

"If you end up wanting my advice later: I'm going to try and get to the bottom of why we're here. Taking over the world from scratch takes years. I'm willing to bet that by the time you so much as take control of one of the local gangs, this whole thing will be sorted out and we'll be headed back home, so you should spend your time here doing something that'll last. Help some people, make some friends, take some photos. Could be fun. Anyway, I've got work to do. Need me to drop you off anywhere?"

"I'll walk," spat Mint.

"Suit yourself. It's a beautiful day in, uh, in Steelport." Superman winked and was gone in half the time it takes a cape to satisfactorily rustle.

Chell suddenly found herself in a small dirty room. What was this? What was going on? Moments previous she had been out in the world. She’d been actually outside for the first time that she could remember, beneath the wonderful blue sky. She’d relished that, and the feel of real soil beneath her feet as she had made her way through the seemingly endless fields of corn, battered and charred companion cube in tow. And now she was here, wherever that was. The floor was chequered black and white, instinctively she glanced upwards but the room was low ceilinged. The walls were dirty brown brick. There was the scent of something burning in the air and the sounds of… something, Chell wasn’t sure what, in the distance. There were two doorways, one was open and the other was closed; a pair of double doors with a picture of a anime style cartoon cat splashed across them. She gave it a halfhearted kick but it didn’t open, she wasn’t surprised. With that avenue of escape closed off she turned to look out of the open door and down the corridor beyond. The source of the burning smell was immediately apparent, jets of flame poured forth through holes in the wall. Despite what she might have wanted to believe she could not help but feel that this was some new kind of test.

There was a moment of hesitation, as would be perfectly natural; she’d thought she was free of this. She looked to the companion cube who had been her only true friend in the trials and tribulations she had faced thus far, hoping against hope that it would break its silence to offer some words of enthusiasm. It did not. It was sad really, it had not said a word to her since it had been ejected from the facility moments after she had. She thought it must have still been angry about the time when she had thrown it into an incinerator. However with the nature of what she faced clear in her mind she knew that this was not a time for sadness.

She took a deep breath and she began.

--------

At the end of that corridor there was another door which opened up into a massive warehouse painted in bright colours and filled with crackling electric fences, walls of flame, people dressed in absurd mascot costumes blasting at one another with automatic weaponry. Splinters of wood were scattered across the floor where placards featuring anime style pictures of cute animals had been shot for points. This was Professor Genki’s Super Ethical Reality Climax, a TV program that was rather popular here in Steelport. The premise was simple: the contestant was given a gun and earned points, and of course cash, for every mascot he or she killed, for every target they destroyed (so long as they didn’t destroy the unethical panda targets (nobody likes a dead panda)) and every trap they evaded. If they made it to the other side alive they won big prizes and if they didn’t then well they’d signed the disclaimer so it was fine.

“And that looks to be just about it for Mikey.” The voice belonged to one of a pair of commentators in a booth high overlooking the course. “Well he had a good run of it, what do you say Bobby?” His cohost’s attention appeared to have been taken up by something else however.

“What in the world is that?” Bobby asked. There was a shimmering orange oval upon the wall opposite from the entrance corridor, and through it he could see the holding room. “This isn’t one of Professor Genki’s devices.” His cohost, Zach, followed his gaze and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re not wrong.” He replied. “Just what is that thing?” At that point a woman walked through carrying some kind of device which seemed to be in turn carrying a very large battered and charred cube. She glanced this way and that, aimed the device and fired. Suddenly where she had targeted now had a shimmering blue oval to match the orange one.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing Bobby?” Zach asked.

“I don’t know Zach, I dropped a tab of acid this morning and I think it’s just come back to haunt me.” The bewildered pair saw nothing to do but to commentate as the mysterious girl in the orange jumpsuit navigated her way through the course. At the first point where she encountered live mascots she seemed almost surprised as bullets starting whizzing past her head, and she took cover rather than attempt to take them on.

“Could it be, Bobby, that this girl doesn’t know what she’s in for?” Zach asked.

“Nah I don’t think so Zach, everyone in this town knows Professor Genki.” He paused. “Hey what’s she…?”

--------

With one hand Chell grabbed the gun that a man who had been dressed as a battery had been using. She didn’t know much about guns, save for the portal gun that is. She supposed she could try to fight her way out that way. Despite her inexperience she’d probably have the advantage; the ability to place portals meant that there was nowhere to hide. But she paled at the thought of taking another human life. All the things she had done so far, she’d never had to actually hurt anyone, anyone that was a person that is. Decisively she aimed the rifle up towards the booth high above and she fired.

--------

The glass shattered and Zach and Bobby hit the floor behind their desk.

“I can’t believe this!” Bobby exclaimed. “All this time that glass wasn’t bulletproof?!”

“I would have been a lot kinder about our contestants if I’d known they could have taken potshots at us.” Zach admitted. There was a noise from behind them. It sounded sort of like ‘plock’ and then a low pitched, almost imperceptible, humming. The announcers turned to watch the mysterious contestant run through the portal, skid to a stop in front of them and then turn and flee through the door.

--------

A minute or two later a window shattered and a portal appeared upon the street outside. Chell leapt through without hesitation, finding herself, and her only friend, back once more beneath an open blue sky.

With a quiet snap, the tip of the seeker's cigarette burst into cinders. He was... he was smoking, outside of... a bar, in... in this odd... city, doing... doing...

...

...Nope, nothing. No memories of how he'd arrived, no idea where he was, no companion(s) at his side, and top it off his time sense was acting up again. Nothing like living a couple millennia to screw over your memory, huh...

Well, at any rate, he was at a bar. Best not squander the opportunity.

Armistice was a classy establishment, or so it desperately tried to convince its patrons. (Not that they needed that much convincing, what with all the getting drunk they were doing.) The place was tastefully ornamented with mahogany and brass, floored with polished black marble tile, and had a second floor where a group was playing cards. A pair of pool tables sat off-center on the main floor, and the seats seemed more suited to a lounge than a bar. Toe the machine-man's eye, though, everything seemed on the verge of falling apart – the tiles were chipped, the wood, splintered, the leather cracked, and the patrons not quite as relaxed as they ought to be. His stool creaked worryingly beneath him as he sat down at the counter.

"Glass of whiskey, please."

A portly, balding southern man in something that wasn't quite a tuxedo waddled over with a drink and an ashtray. He wore an expression that was trying to be cheerful, but at the same time couldn’t quite process a man with a television for a head having a smoke and drinking whiskey, even as he watched it happen.

"Don't believe I've seen you around before, mister...?"

"T-O-E. I'm... not from around here, so probably not, no."

"Not a Decker, then?"

The pair scrutinized each other for a moment, at which point T-O-E realized the bar had gotten awfully quiet, and the bartender wasn’t quite paying attention to him anymore.

"...No, I'm not."

"You're sure."

"Really, I try not to get involved in these sorts of things." He stared at his dwindling supply of whiskey, swirling it around in its glass. "Never seems to work out, though. I can leave, if you'd prefer-"

The bartender waved a hand, and the background noise of the regular patronage suddenly resurged. "Naw, mister, settle down. I’m not one to turn away a paying customer."

"Thanks, ah... I didn't catch your name."

"I just stick with 'Barkeep.' Easier that w-"

A thin, nervous-looking kid popped up from below the counter, whispered something to Barkeep, and vanished back the way he came.

"Shit, already? I just renovated this goddamn... Shit. SIXTY SECONDS, PEOPLE! MOVE IT!"

The machine-man glanced around curiously as the other patrons quickly barricaded themselves behind flipped-over pool tables and retrieved unnecessarily powerful armaments from nowhere in particular. "What's this, then? Barkeep?"

'Barkeep' was loading a pair of automatic shotguns while a few of the patrons casually-but-hurriedly vaulted the counter and left out the back. "Look, you don’t like getting involved, fine by me. You can leave with the rest of them."

"If it's all the same to you," said T-O-E, landing in a crouch beside the old man, "I think I'll stay and watch."

Barkeep gave him a funny look. Also, a revolver. "Suit yourself. Anyway, this?"

The door exploded, and a dozen thugs dressed in purple burst through and opened fire. Someone decided adding a jeep with a mounted turret to the chaos would be a swell idea, but missed the door by a good ten feet. The wall had better clearance, anyway.

"This is why we're called 'Armistice.'"

"Huh? Where the heck am I now?"

The little bunny girl known as Almond looked around and saw nothing but metal and grey and dark all around her, along with the familiar sight of metal bars.

"Wha... what?"

Almond looked at the voice's source, a man in weird, shiny armor, wearing a helmet and carrying a weird weapon, who looked at her and then followed up with a, "Wh-who or what are you? What are you doing in that cell?".

"Well, I could ask you the same thing! And ugh, while you're at it tell me why this place stinks, gosh at least the ship had the nice ocean air."

"Uhm..."

Almond looked at the guard and gave him a nice, hard squinty stare. "Well what are you waiting for, I haven't got all day you know!"

Instead, the intense stare of a little bunny girl who appeared out of no where and was possibly a hallucination proving too much for him, the guard went to find a superior.

Moments later, two armored men entered the cell room and made their way to the otherwise empty cell.

Almond's look of 'this-is-not-satisfactory' had not left her face in the time that she had been waiting for the guard to return, although it had become less intense. "This is so booooori-" She noticed the guards return, "Oh, you're back, and you've brought a friend. Are you actually going to say something this time? Or are you going to continue acting like you've just seen the Nightmare Knight? Is your friend better at least a little better at talking than you?"

The guard from before kept quiet while his superior began to speak, "My my, such a rambunctious girl, tell me miss..."

"Almond."

"Miss Almond, however did you get here?"

"Well I don't know where here is so I can't answer that question now, can I? All I know is that one moment I was waiting for the chance to make calamari out of this loser called Spashmaster and the next I'm in here and Mr. Uhm over there is freaking out and running away."

"You are on the Perseus, little miss, above Steelport. Does that mean anything to you? Where did you come from?"

"Which Kingdom is that?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look buddy, I would love to play twenty questions, but I have a brother who sort of falls apart at the first sign of bad stuff who needs his sis around somewhere near the Ripple Kingdom, so if you could get me out of here so that I can make sure he keeps out of trouble that would be great."

"I am very sorry but I can't quite do that. I don't think that there is any Ripple Kingdom."

"What are you talking about?"

The other guard spoke up, trying to rationalize this whole thing, "You.. you are a rabbit! A talking rabbit!"

Almond squinted and frowned at the guard, "Is that a problem?"

This back and forth continued forward and back, with Almond being as obnoxious as possible in the face of the unknown and the guard being very confused at what she was saying and being generally off-put by her being a small bunny rabbit person in a dress.

However, it was cut off by a loud noise going off, and the guards' communicators crackling to life ordering all free crew members to go to the briefing room. As they couldn't quite leave the newcomer alone, the superior to ceased his questioning and left the original guard alone with Almond, to keep an eye on her.

"Uhm..."

Before he could continue his stuttered attempts at speech, the guard found that Almond not only had a flipping sword hidden somewhere on her, she also just sliced up his weapon in half and had the tip pointed at his face.

"Alright Mr. Uhm, I don't think that I need to explain what you've got to do for me. Let me out."

Persuaded by her blade, the guard opted to not only let Almond out of the cell, but also to tell her the fastest way to get off of the airship.

As the guard's face met the flat end of her sword, falling to the ground, Almond couldn't help but smile at how awesome she just was.

Eggplant Wizard was becoming increasingly aware that he was getting a greater volume of confused and/or angry stares than he'd ever received in his life. He was doing his best to avoid starting any trouble, of course; but he was quickly realizing that a good deal of people in the area were wearing neon-lined jackets similar to the mugger, and most of them were armed.

Beginning to panic, his pace quickened. I just need to find someone who can tell me what's going on, and everything will be just peachy. This calmed him slightly until he promptly realized that he had literally no idea where he would go about finding such a person, or how he would convince them to help him. A trail of fresh celery and peppers in his wake, he broke into a sprint (or the closest equivalent for someone lacking legs), at which point he careened into another Decker.

This was bad; however, he could have beaten the Decker like the last one, so long as this one was equally unintelligent, as well as alone. Unfortunately, this particular lady was accompanied by three other gang members, who were in fact planning to murder some of the Third Street Saints at the time, and had recently become aware of the fact that "s0m3 l4rg3 purp13 m07h3rfuck3r" had just assaulted the person who was supposed to be their fifth man. On top of all of this, the woman he had just knocked over happened to have a massive electrified hammer.

All of this added up to the Wizard being surrounded by four very upset Deckers, one in particular pointing a submachine gun where she was fairly sure the vegetable's chin was. She gave a smile, and her cohorts quickly followed suit. "Well, well, well. Looks like we got ourselves a stir-fry, lads." She leaned in, practically spitting on him as she spoke. "Now then, if you'll be so kind as to stop pretending you don't have anything, we'll let you go with merely a beating."

The aubergine laughed nervously. "W-well, let me just get my wallet, then!" He quickly retrieved Wire-Lester's wallet from the folds of his cape; however, he also produced a violently explosive pineapple, and quickly handed it off to the woman. "Well, I have to be off! It's been a pleasure!" He quickly began running away, and before the gangsters could follow him, the fruit had detonated, sending three of them sky-high.

Eggplant laughed heartily, but quickly stopped when he saw the woman rapidly approaching on roller skates. Although he attempted to flee, she almost immediately caught up, and with a mighty whack sent him flying into a brick building. Bristling with electricity, he silently thanked his boss for constantly electrocuting him; after all, if he hadn't built up a resistance, he'd be in even more pain than he was now. Looking behind him, he saw that she was once again fast approaching; looking ahead, he saw someone dismounting their motorcycle.

Almost immediately, the Wizard was off, frantically gunning the Sandstorm's gas and weaving in and out of traffic. Although he was relieved to be outpacing the Decker, this was short-lived, as she quickly grabbed the driver of a stopped SUV, tossed him out the door, and took his car. Once again, his pursuer began to approach.

Looking every which way, Eggplant quickly turned down a side street. This would have been an easy enough way to escape the rather large vehicle chasing him, if not for two things: First, the side street was undergoing heavy construction, and he quickly crashed into a roadblock. Second, he had just performed a left turn into oncoming traffic (and a particularly clumsy one at that), which led to an unfortunate bus driver skidding out of control when they swerved to avoid them. The bus smashed into a sedan, the sedan smashed into a sports car, and a pile-up formed almost immediately.

As the vegetable picked himself up, groaning, he saw the Decker who was chasing him dive out of her SUV, which quickly added itself to the pile-up. Several cop cars screeched to a halt, and their occupants exited and began shooting. As doom rapidly approached the Wizard, he reacted entirely on instinct, lashing out with his staff in a frantic and clumsy attempt to knock the hammer out of his opponent's hands. Miraculously, it worked.

As it slammed to the ground next to the pile-up, it emitted several sparks. One of these hit a pool of spilled oil and gasoline, and within seconds, the entire pile of cars - as well as the Planet Saints they were nearby, a food cart, and a trash bin - went up in a tremendous fireball.

Looking between the frozen-in-awe Decker, the furious policemen, and the fellows in purple who were storming towards him, all he could think of was one thing. He quickly ducked into an alley, stared at the sky, and screamed "I don't want to die!" at the top of his lungs.

He then hid in a filthy dumpster, berating himself for not thinking of a "ripe for the harvest" pun.

SpoilerShow

Oh man, reading this makes me want to play saints row SO BAD.

A green blur rocketed its way through the town. And then again. And again. Each time it was accompanied by the smell of burning rubber and afterimages of a smile seared into any onlookers’ retinas. A wide, manic smile...

“Gotta go fast”

And trailing behind the speeding blur came its jagged voice, chopped up by broken jetstreams of air. It was a voice with flames painted on. It was a voice that went so fast, it didn’t leave time for fripperies like punctuation.

“leave the world behind”

Capitalization implied pauses, too, like punctuation. Manic hated pauses.

“see the universe”

Where were the ramps? There was trash and wreckage here and there; the occasional truck flipped over his head but there was nothing to run up, no direction to go but boring old left right back forward back forward take it slow not on your life

The blur raised a spray of water as it sped out to sea, running on top of the water, and turned inexplicably back towards the smoky, blackened city.

“don’t stop don’t stop”

Manic hadn’t meant to turn, but some unnatural force had redirected him the way he’d come - stopping, ugh, stopping him from escaping.

This meant that Manic was now in a box, and he knew. It was a very large box, with plenty of places to run but boxes were confinement and eventually he knew he would run everywhere and there would be nowhere else and for that, he would not stand. He barely ever stood in any case.

He sped ahead, treading water in the most literal sense achievable, back towards the smoke-choked city. To his right, three funnels marked the horizon in the special, menacing way that meant ‘nuclear power plant’. And to his left...

The manic grin, picked out in plasma, widened even further. The smoggy air complained at being shoved aside, but the hedgehog had no ears for whining. Only speed mattered. He conserved as much of it as he turned to the left, towards the gargantuan tower stabbing into the sky.
“gotta go fast”

left, right, back, forward...

up

Superman flew towards the wreckage at 1.3SB*, the optimum speed for flight in a low-traffic sky. Telescopic vision registered six dead dead, two still trapped. The apathetic-looking types in the glowing suits were doing open combat with the police. This was no good.

Superman landed right in the street between the criminals and the police officers, hoping to surprise them enough to draw all their fire for a few moments and stop them from killing each other while he did what needed to be done. He inhaled as hard as he could and exhaled carefully, his Arctic breath putting out the flames around the survivors and then--

One of the Deckers caught Superman right in the skull with the full charge of her plasma gun, knocking the wind (literally, the wind) out of the Kryptonian. The flames roared. "Hmm," she said aloud. "That should have fried hi--"

The Decker took an elbow to the gut and went down. The others raised their weapons in retaliation against the red-and-blue blur of violence, but for the most part found them either ripped out of their hands or melted into useless metal by, one of the gangsters later swore, lasers shooting out of the man's eyes.

Within ten seconds all the Deckers were down. The police, meanwhile, were standing around and looking confused and a bit scared. The fire roared.

Another gas tank went off just as Superman moved in for the triumphant rescue on the couple in the car, knocking him back a bit and frying them both. Superman took a deep breath and tended to the wreckage.

Some seconds later, having put out the fires, pounded out his frustrations on the metal, and laid the bodies out respectfully out of the public eye, Superman turned his attentions back to the police. "Bit of a mess out there," he said, sounding more angry than affable.

"Mm," grunted one police officer, slapping his cuffs on one of the Deckers. "Thanks for the help... whatever you are."

"I'm Superman. I'm here to help." The superhero took a glance back down at the Deckers. One of them was bleeding through his shirt. "This one's hurt," he pointed out. "He needs a hospital. I can take him."

The cop glared. "He'll get the care he needs... when he talks."

Superman narrowed his eyes. "I don't know how you do things here in Steelport, officer, but where I come from we have a right to remain silent. Not to mention a right to emergency care. Please. The rest of these guys are all yours, and I can't say they don't deserve it."

The cop shifted his arm in a way that was supposed to remind Superman about the gun he was holding. "Listen up, freak," he said. "This is our crime scene and our city. We know how to do our jobs. Now take your cape where it's needed... or wanted."

"This man's suffering. He could die. I can't allow that to happen, on a cop's watch or a criminal's."

"Oh," said the cop. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize he was suffering. Here, let me take care of him." The officer raised his weapon and fired a bullet at the Decker's skull.

Superman caught the bullet in his palm, a bit awkwardly. He genuinely had not seen that coming. He turned and slapped the weapon out of the officer's hands. "No more deaths!" he roared as the other cops, seizing their chance, opened fire on the hero.

Superman grabbed the cop by the throat and then immediately dropped him, because eggplants do not have arms to grab cops by the throats with.

*Speeding Bullet, or 1200 m/s