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Thread: Deadman Wonderland: Vegas - IC Thread

  1. #1
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    Default Deadman Wonderland: Vegas - IC Thread

    "...and a heavy blow to the head, Fire Skink has been knocked completely unconscious! The winner is: Box Turtle! Shame for Fire Skink, but she'll have to play the penalty game!"


    Komodo rolled her eyes and turned off the television. Watching a fight was one thing... watching someone get maimed for no reason other than for the sake of the torture itself was another. She rolled out of bed and headed to the cafeteria, figuring she would grab some snacks or something. Maybe she would get lucky and the commissary would have a bag or two of Doritos left. Those were usually quick to be bought up, though.

    As it turned out, there was a single bag of Doritos within the walls of the prison. Unfortunately for the Komodo, they had been purchased not three minutes ago. Only three people were currently in the cafeteria. Two were newbies, quickly scarfing down some prison food as they attempted to figure out how to cope with the drastic change in their lives. The third was seated quietly, peacefully, in the corner of the mess hall, the bag of Doritos sitting unopened on the table. It was a bag of the new Doritos Blaze as well: a rare opportunity for whoever was lucky enough to grab them. That someone happened to be the Cobra.

    After his win against Komodo just a week ago, he had decided to take the opportunity when it arose and spend a few of his very hard-earned points on something he doubted would ever make its way down beneath the earth. Usually much of the food they got was either the knockoff brand or normal flavors -to find a new flavor down here was like finding the holy grail. Though he had purchased the rare snack, he had not partaken as of yet. After all, such a sought-after prize could be a valuable bargaining chip in the future. For now, he left it sitting logo-out, enticing any who saw it as he casually stared at a blank page of his notebook, occasionally putting pencil to paper and drawing a line. It was nothing serious-his main project was in his cell-but even in the depths of Deadman Wonderland he saw art everywhere. Even in the mildly annoyed face of his rival as she walked into the cafeteria.

    Of course Cobra would nab the new flavor. "Fuck him. At least I can get a different flavor." thought Komodo as she headed over to the vendor's window... and almost immediately went off. "The fuck do you mean none left?! Like, at all?! So I have to wait a fucking week for the next shipment of commissary shit to come in?! Man, fuck you." She turned and stormed back toward the exit to the cafeteria, but stopped short across from Cobra's table. He had placed the bag with the logo facing the rest of the room, clearly showing off his prize. That pissed Komodo off even more. Tilting her gaze in his direction, Komodo asked a single question. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?"

    Ah, perfect. He knew after the fit he heard from the commissary store she'd come around to his table. He hadn't chosen the Doritos BECAUSE he knew she liked them, but it wasn't a bad jab at her in the meantime. He pretended to ignore her, scrawling a few more lines in his notebook, before he flipped back a page, standing the notebook upright. It simply read 'Want one?' in extremely fancy writing; it was obvious he had been working on it for a while. His smile held no venom, but he doubted she would do any less than deck him for being so cheeky right in her face. Not that he wouldn't share if she was civil, however. He wasn't going to pretend that his recent rivalry with her hadn't been quite helpful to him, and in a way he was grateful she existed. Not grateful enough to not be a dick, though.

    If looks could kill, Cobra would have been dead after flashing that note to Komodo. "Boy, you REALLY let that win go to your head." As she spoke, Komodo used the spiked ring on one of her thumbs to puncture the palm of her hand and draw blood for what came next. Her hand oozed blood from the small wound, then became fully covered by it as her Branch of Sin caused it to form a sort of clawed gauntlet. "So how about you carefully consider what you do next, hmm? Wouldn't want to lose your precious hands... would you, mister artist?" While some might think it to be simple posturing, Komodo was not playing around. Cobra may have bested her in a single fight, but he was acting like he had foiled her at every turn. How quickly he forgot why it was that he had lost his tongue. Perhaps he needed a reminder.

    Cobra eyed Komodo as boredly as he had just a moment ago. Though the threat loomed in front of him, he very calmly closed his hands. It was an innocuous move to most, but Komodo would surely understand why he did so. If she didn't, the flash of his silver spiked rings on his middle fingers would be a reminder. He raised one hand, palm facing out, while scribbling in the notebook with the other. It was a standoff of sorts as he eyed her seriously, continuing to write down a few sentences in the thankfully uncrowded cafeteria.

    Only when he finished did he flash the notebook out to her. 'You cannot take a joke, can you? Do you want a Dorito or not? Can I not have any fun at all, Officer?' He let it hang for a minute before he set the notebook down, keeping his other palm pointed at her once again. Though he had not drawn his blood spikes, he knew he did not have to; he had the quickest attack in Deadman Wonderland, and he knew she knew that. Were she to even flinch for a moment, he'd be capitalizing on the opportunity. Of course, were she to attack, he'd simply defend until the Undertakers kicked her ass around. They tended to always show up right when conflict was beginning to peak...

    And this time was no different. Being alerted as soon as Komodo began her outburst, Fist and Iron Mask made their way to the cafeteria at a brisk pace. Their arrival coincided withan angry growl from Komodo, who had just read the second note and was preparing to retaliate. "I suggest the two of you quit while you're still breathing on your own. The Warden doesn't want us to KILL you... but we ARE allowed to do pretty much whatever else we want to you." Fist, the tall and muscular Undertaker, made his intentions crystal clear. Either they relaxed... or he would "restrain" them. Usually, that meant viciously beat until near-death. Komodo narrowed her eyes at Fist's ultimatum. For a few seconds, it even looked like she was going to mount an attack. However, she knew she was outmatched. There would be a day when she would show Fist his own insides, but today was not that day. "Hrr... fine. This asshole isn't worth dying for, anyway." The blood composing her claws oozed back into the wound in her palm and sealed the small hole shut. At the same time, Iron Mask gave Cobra the evil eye and addressed the mute in a similar manner to how Fist had confronted Komodo.

    "You may have defeated miss Komodo, but should you decide you're too big for this place, we'll reminj you exactly where you belong, 'la artiste'." Cobra always wondered why Iron Mask had problems pronouncing the letter d on occasion. He also wondered just what that mask hid from the rest of the world. Of course, neither of those things mattered in the grand scheme of things. What did matter was that he had license to maim and a very obnoxious weapon in those gauntlets. Cobra shrugged his shoulders, picking up his notebook and writing a note, which he showed to all three of them. 'I was just offering my rival to share a snack. It isn't my fault she decided she'd rather eviscerate me.' He shrugged his shoulders, holding up the bag to her once again. Cobra internally was laughing his ass off. He'd managed to make her look even more of a deranged psycho than she was...though he knew the pair of Mask and Fist could care less. Hopefully she'd come to her senses and just have a damn chip or two...she was still a worthy rival to him, and he wasn't heartless...even if he acted like he did his thinking ass-first.

    Just as Cobra moved to reveal his note, Komodo presented him with a middle finger and kept it there as she addressed the Undertakers. "He BELONGS in the doctor's cold storage, waiting for... whatever that crazy fuck does with dead bodies. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go play video games. This little get-together has ruined my appetite." Fist motioned toward the door, and Komodo sneered at the big Asian Undertaker as she walked past. She did not even acknowledge Cobra on her way out. To her, his arrogance held a particular sting. Yeah, she had lost to him. But he had also lost to her. Why he was so smug, she had no idea. And that pissed her off to no end. She'd cool off for a bit, maybe head to the gym or something after playing a game or two. Anything to vent her frustration in a way the Undertakers deemed acceptable.
    Spoiler: Neat Stuff Within 

  2. #2
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    "...and a heavy blow to the head, Fire Skink has been knocked completely unconscious! The winner is: Box Turtle! Shame for Fire Skink, but she'll have to play the penalty game!"



    Was the announcement across the screen. Aku frowned seeing the one they called Fire Skink hit the ground. He was so pulling for Fire Skink to win but of course it was a Turtle. "Of course the stupid Turtle won. Damn defensive shit he's got is bullshit. I'd love to take a whack at him." He spoke of course not really to anyone but to a small little stuffed rabbit in his room. Aku frowned seeing Fire Skink at a loss and ready for the games. "Man she sure is a pretty one even with the losses she's already gained." The man stood up and stretched hitting the power button on the T.V. as the screen flicked off.


    Making his way to the Cafeteria section of the facility, Aku found himself arriving just in time to see the Quarrel between Komodo and Cobra. Aku of course always enjoyed when inmates fought outside the games. It was an interesting matter that would take place when the Undertakers showed up to put them in their place. He managed to slip past the two arguing and watched the 'show' that was unfolding from a distance away. Of course his motives were not only to get a slight distance away but now he was next to the food and could buy something after he was finished watching. Not to any surprise things were beginning to get heated right when Fist and Iron Mask showed up to handle the situation. Aku chuckled at the fieriness of Komodo flipping out on the man. His eyes focused on Cobra as he wrote something down and in what Aku saw a taunting matter offered her a Dorito. Was this really what the fight was about? A stupid ass bag of Doritos?


    Aku watched as the situation came to a close Komodo taking off with the intention to play video games. He looked back to the food and examined his choices of a meal today. Aku looked over the few things they had out it was nothing more then what a middle schooler would eat as a daily meal but none the less it was still something. He questioned if some of the items on the bar were even eatable. After scanning the possibilities over and over, his choice was set on a slice of Pepperoni Pizza and a nice cup of Tea to go with it. His guilty pleasure when it came to drinks was the Sweetness of Tea. Of course the tea here wasn't the greatest but it still was worth it every time. He made his way over towards the corner where Cobra sat and placed his tray across from the man pulling out his own sketch pad. With a few moments he wrote out a question and flipped his paper around to show the man. The message was in a fancy fashion as Cobra's was but his had it's own style to it. "Wow, beaten one time by you and flips out for no reason yea?" Was the message written out. Of course Aku could speak outloud if he chose but he did feel for the man who lost his tongue so he figured he could at least go to his level and write stuff out with him.
    Last edited by Kiro Akira; 03-23-2018 at 08:17 PM.
    Spoiler: Quotes? 

    Spoiler: Kiros current favorite quote 

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    Zachary was, by far, the least interested in other people's fights. They were all loud, violent, and lacked style. More concerned with winning than putting on a show, which was what they were there for. They was no other way to rationalize it, for him. Currently he was walking down the hallway with a smile and a skip in his step, humming the theme tune to some luchador he had been following for some time.

    He turned the corner only to be met head on, literally, with another "performer". Anna. The Komodo, or something like that. He never payed attention. It didn't bother him as much as her ability to disembowel him in two seconds. He took two steps back and held his hands up, smiling. "You're entirely within your right to harm me, but please do not touch my hair. I spent ten years figuring out how to make it this way."

    Dragging her claws along the wall as she walked, Anna dug deep grooves into the concrete. Would it piss off the Undertakers? Definitely. But she't give a shit right now. If she didn't vent her frustration, she was going to hurt someone. Yeah, she was not being entirely rational... but what WAS rational in this place? They were literally just toys for the rich and morally-bankrupt investors who made bets on the fights. They fought and bled and died purely for entertainment. They had body parts removed if they lost in those fights. They would never even see a single ray of natural sunlight again. If that was rational, she was a Catholic Saint.

    In her angered musings, Anna did not notice Tegu coming from around the corner. The two smacked right into one another, with Anna stumbling backward a few steps and digging into the wall even more deeply to prevent a fall. Scrambling back to her feet, she was about to berate Tegu when he apologized. Well... not ao much apologized, but said she could ruin him so long as she did not mess up his hair. She momentarily considered taking him up on the offer, but instead chose to chuckle at the humorous proposal. "So eviscerating you is ok, but don't touch your 'do?" ... maybe a laugh was all she really needed after Cobra's blatant antagonism.

    He smiled. Sometimes the best way to diffuse a bomb was simply to make it laugh. He risked losing a leg, but maybe there was merit to that. He shrugged his shoulders and lowered his hands, crossing his arms. "You're looking well, hot stuff. But angry. While that does make you hotter, I cant help but want to know why?" He leaned up against the wall, smiling.

    Now he was just pushing his luck. "We talked about this, dear." The venom in her statement was almost palpable. "You don't hit on me, and you get to keep your blood on the inside. Well... until we fight, of course." With that, she withdrew he claws from the wall and brushed the concrete dust off of them before fully retracting them. Best not to get that kind of stuff in your blood, after all. Granted, she had never heard of a Deadman suffering such contamination... but it was better to be safe than sorry. "As for what set me off? King Shit Cobra, acting high and mighty. He beat me, sure. But everyone loses eventually here. He lost to me before beating me, so his attitude just rubs me the wrong way."

    He had a terrible habit of that, pushing his luck. Its ended multiple fights of his ways he didn't like. Either through his own failures or otherwise. Cost him many things. Only two, however, still hurt. "You know I can't do anything about it, babe. At least let a man have his fun where he still can..." He hopped up and crossed his legs in mid air, falling into a cross legged position. Normally that would crush his balls, but he had a natural advantage when it came to such risky manuvers. Nothing to lose down there, anymore.

    Anna simply rolled her eyes in response. It was no wonder why the investors enjoyed Tegu. The guy was too over-the-top. They ate that shit up. Still, he had a point. They should at least try to have a bit of fun here and there. If you're in hell, you may as well make the best of it. "Well that's great and all, but I think I'm going to go take a nap or something in the lounge. Was going to play video games, but I really don't feel like going back to my fucking cell... you know?" A prison within a prison, for most of the Deadmen... their cells were incredibly basic even by prison standards. Concrete slab with a foam mat, sink/toilet combo, and a small shelf carved out of the stone wall. Komodo bought herself a television and game console, sure... but the room itself was still a blatant reminder of where she was. At least the lounge reminded her of home a tiny bit.

    He was aware of his popularity, to a ppint. He was a showman, after all. The worlds greatest entertainer, not that anyone will know that. Shame he only figured his talents out after he was in here for a few days. He could have made a killer Luchador. He had a mask all figured out and everything... He smiled. "You looking for a second pair of hands? Ladies tell me mine're quite skillful..."

    A hostile glare shot in Tegu's direction made Anna's declining mood very apparent, though she did follow it with a verbal lashing. "Ok. Seriously. Stop. I've already dealt with the Undertakers once today. I don't want to have to do it again. This is the last time I will ask you nicely." Mid-statement, she had clenched her fists... and by the end of it, she was clenching her teeth as well. She was all for a bit of fun here and there, but she had asked Tegu multiple times in the past to lay off with the flirting. There was having fun, then there was harassment. This was definitely becoming more the latter rather than the former.

    He smiled, standing up and taking a few steps towards her. "You can ask all you like, darling, I'm not gonna stop. You took my balls. The one thing all men hold dear. Ive earned the right to a bit of teasing. No?" With that he walked past her, smiling as he jumped up and clicked his heels mockingly. Even the Greatest Showman could hold a grudge, it seemed...

    Was he stupid? First the harassment, then refusing to stop when asked, then turning his back to her? That settled it. The sound of his clicking heels was followed by a loud thud as Komodo's foot smashed into his back. If he would not comply when asked, maybe a showing that she was more demanding he stop than asking was more appropriate. "Maybe you didn't get the fucking hint, ass clown. I said to cut it the fuck out. Cut it the fuck out." Anna's wicked claws made their third appearance within the last fifteen minutes. Lucky for her, she wasn't a ranged attacker and her blood returned to her body after she utilized her Branch of Sin. If it didn't she'd be anemic as all hell by this point. "This goes one of two ways from here, Tegu... ball is in your court. Make a play."

    He was expecting her to do something and tensed just in time. The kick threw him forward a bit, but he was able to recover gracefully and turn on a dime, smiling. She wanted a fight, huh? Well, he wasn't about to ruin his good reputation on a fight he knew he would get anyway. That was the one hand. On the other, he really wanted to punch her... He took a few steps forward before jumping up and kicking off the wall in order to launch himself forward, going for a flying superman punch while his other hand balled itself into a tight fist, his nails digging into his palm in order to draw a little blood, just in case he needed a little more firepower...

    She may not have been a martial artist or anything, but her recent experiences in the Corpse Carnival had taught Komodo a LOT about fighting. Rather than block or dodge, she stepped INTO Tegu's punch and tanked it. This benefitted her in two ways: One, it robbed his punch of a lot of force and allowed her thin armor to easily withstand what power it retained. Two, it put her within striking diatance and gave her the advantage. Being a pure melee combatant, up close and personal was her bread and butter. However, she decided against tearing into his guts. Her claws hit their target, sure. But all she did was tear into Tegu's rather fashionable shirt. It had clearly cost a fair amount of scales, so it was more a dig at his pride than anything. "Consider that a warning, Tegu. You know better than to close the gap against me. I can't de-man you and neither of us wants to deal with Fist or Mask, so what do you say we either drop this... or put in a fight request. Those rich fuckers LOVE grudge matches, after all."

    He felt the shirt tear, which did piss him off a great deal. He loved this shirt... He took a few bouncy steps back, taking a few deep breaths as he hopped back and forth in place. His luchador influences showed the most when he was standing still, it seemed. He smiled an stopped, looking down at his ruined shirt. "God dammit, and I had just had it washed, too..." He sighed and put his hands behind his head, shrugging his shoulders with a smile. "Needs more heat. The best part of any good story is the heat, darling. Don't you watch wrestling?"

    Well, at least he wasn't completely stupid. It seemed the mention of the Undertakers stopped things from escalating from a tense scrap to a bloodbath. Probably for the best, given what would happen to either of them. Some Deadmen would rather go through a penalty game than deal with the Undertakers. "Why would I watch fake fighting when I can watch the real shit here?" She knew wrestling wasn't FAKE, persay. But she did know it was heavily scripted.

    He scoffed in an exaggerated show of disgust. "Have you no sense of style? I'm starting to see why you don't like me..." He grinned and,turned, offering her a little wave as he tore off the rest of his shirt. It was all but destroyed anyway. No sense in it now. He started to make his way to his cell, jf only to grab a replacement before he went to the lounge to watch some reruns of old WWE. Not like there was much else to do around here...

  4. #4
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    Gliding Gecko was messing around with some board game pieces in the lounge area while listening to the Carnival Corpse fight broadcasted on television. Unsurprisingly, There were several other deadmen in the room, including The Fist and Iron Mask eavesdropping from the doorway before ending up bored by the action and exiting. Most were aware of Gecko yet paid no heed, accustomed to her behavior. At the match's conclusion, some booed at the less attractive victor while others snickered at them and argued that Box Turtle's win was obvious. All conversation ceased however upon the mention of the penalty game, and bodies began clearing the room. Even those who sometimes remained bowed out, deciding to learn another time whether or not the poor lass's pretty face would remain intact.

    Gecko, the only one remaining, was one of the Penalty Game program's most consistent visitors. After all, this was an event every deadman would eventually experience, likely multiple times if he/she wasn't already dead. Disregarding its brutality would only render the process all the more dreadful when the time finally came. To Gecko, the key to remaining sane was overexposure, to traumatize your eyes and imagination while eating, preparing to sleep, and taking a dump (which for her was quite frequent). There is quite a lot of freedom for deadmen, but that freedom is an illusion. Making up for stabbing someone in the chest by ordering a fancy meal or sinking hours into that limited edition character of a cherished videogame will do nothing but lift you into a temporary high like a drug before the hangover hits, reminding you of your pathetic existence. Differentiating a good from bad experience was often relative, and the way to cheat the system is to lower one's standards to expect only pain and suffering, so that when a moment of real freedom, human dignity, etc. comes along it is cherished and strengthens resolve.

    Well...that was Gecko's internal excuse, anyway. The heavily scarred woman was actually highly fascinated with the penalty game even after undergoing it so many times. As Fire Skink was harnessed into that lovely chair and introduced to that charming reptilian-designed slot machine, Gecko observed her face closely, attempting to read her emotions and compare it to her own. Did her eyes share the same horror in her third time? What about her tenth time? What was the girl thinking about? What did she feared losing? What didn't she mind losing? Where would it hurt the most? What could she have done to win instead? how would she be altered mentally and emotionally? Would she feel increasingly vulnerable, or more experienced? Amazing.

    Ah, there was Dr. Sue, deceitfully hiding her excitement as she rolled out a reptilian-styled slot machine displaying various artwork of body parts. Gecko had chatted with her many times during her sessions and grown quite fond of her, delighted by how much they had in common-- their intrigue with the human body and its reaction to the environment, love of Shakespearean tragedies, and their general, erm, creativity. After Gecko's most recent loss to Komodo only weeks ago the two were practically gossiping and giggling like a couple of teenagers as the Doctor prepared to spay Gecko as if she were a bitch in heat. The experience was...many things, bittersweet coming to mind as one of the stranger adjectives. As Gecko reminisced, however, Fire Skink was already groaning agonizingly, as quietly as she could as several teeth were pulled out one by one. Treading feet could be heard in the hallway, eventually passing the lounge entrance. They were no doubt those of The Iron Fist (as she loves to call them), but she wondered why they were in such a rush. Probably to lay down the law on some roughhousing as usual. In this regard, Gecko was quite well-behaved. After all, she had no need for one-upmanship nor a lecture on how much of an insignificant speck she was. She was aware; all she had to do was embrace it for a few more years until she could buy her freedom with her saved up scales. Although, that prospect surely grew more distant as her body continued to chip away, as well as the arrival of some very threatening deadmen.

    Speaking of, not long after the program ended, one such deadman entered the still-empty lounge as Gecko laid back on the sofa, holding a board game piece in front of the fan light as she gazed up at .

    Komodo, still riding high on adrenaline from her confrontations with the Undertakers and Tegu, figured the lounge would be as good a place as any to relax and calm her nerves. However, she was not alone. Gecko, the blooded and battered veteran, had already staked a claim on one of the couches. While Komodo may have been cocky, she had a very healthy respect for Gecko. Not many people could endure so many penalty games and still be in fighting shape. "Oh. Hey, Gecko." Relaxing her clenched fists as she spoke, Komodo let out an audible sigh. "Am I interrupting anything? You seem... focused." It wasn't that she actually thought she was bothering Gecko. It was more that Komodo really just didn't know what else to say. She wasn't exactly a social butterfly, so to speak. Add that to the fact that she had cost Gecko her ability to reproduce, and Komodo felt pretty awkward around the woman who many considered to be the facility's top combatant.

    Gecko was mildly surprised by someone's sudden arrival, even more so by her tone. "You sound like you've just been unjustly humbled by the Undertakers again, Komodo." She began, literally bringing the pieces together by closing in one arm with an imaginary one holding another piece. "Conflict is two-way. You can throw me off this couch if you do so please and won't need to worry about them." Speaking with Komodo was always tricky. She appeared to have two sides to her that could alternate like the flip of a switch. Somehow Gecko usually received the friendlier half, but she'd play it safe anyway, despite how she might have preferred the other. She sat up and, pulling down her prison shirt slightly, used the game piece's edge to itch along the scar running down where her left lung used to be. She never directly answered the question, but the implied response was It doesn't matter whether or not you're interrupting.

    The mere mention of the Undertakers visibly irritated Komodo, who clenched a fist for what felt like the hundredth time that day. But she quickly lost the desire to fight, as even the body of a Deadman could only endure an adrenaline rush for so long. Instead, she simply flopped herself down in a nearby chair before continuing the conversation. "Fucking... it's not just them. Cobra and Tegu were being assholes, too. Cobra is still cocky about his win over me, and Tegu still tries to flirt despite the fact he literally had no balls." Another sigh, and another complaint. "I can only take so much needling, you know? Just... fuck. You don't want to hear this bullshit. So. Doc Sue clear you for a fight yet? Probably itching for your grudge match against me too, right?" ... once more, Komodo was not well-versed in regard to socializing. As such, she simply went with what she figured others expected of her.

    Ah, there was the Komodo she liked, at least in some form. It did perplex Gecko though how she griped to her of all people considering how she had probably incited the clawed monster like the others had. "She sure did...but I doubt it matters much at this point..." She replied as she glanced to where her head had rested a moment earlier-- littered by sheds of her thinning brown hair. "As for itching for a grudge match...not as much as this damn scar. Why would I want to fight you again when I could win the same amount of money defeating an easier opponent? Not like we have that option anyway." Gecko was playing dumb here, but hopefully Komodo was aware of the message she was sending. Concepts like revenge, supremacy, and victory were ultimately meaningless outside of how many scales were won, at least to her.

    Not really having an answer for the question, Komodo simply spoke her mind. "Because it's what you're best at, and the only thing any of us are good for in this fuckfest of a prison. Not trying to be a bitch or anything. Just telling it like it is." A shrug of her shoulders accompanied the matter-of-fact statement. "I mean, shit. I know how I can get in the ring, so I don't blame you for not wanting to go another round. I mean... how many people have been sterilized from penalty games with me? You, Tegu, and Box Turtle? I'm even getting a reputation for it at... th... fuck." Only after starting to talk about it did Komodo realize how insensitive and rude it was (even for her) to talk about such a recent and severe penalty game result. "Fuck, I'm sorry. I'm... I'll leave." Intending to make good on her declaration, Komodo sat up and took a few steps back toward the hallway she came in from.

    Gecko's eyes widened in astonishment at the entire scene. She didn't expect this development, though that was, well, expected. Despite having known her for several months, many of her imaginary conversations with Deadman Wonderland's top dog rarely ever matched up with the real interaction. Clearly, there was still much to learn about this woman. She was strongly tempted by the idea of flashing her neutered junk just to see what would happen, but she refrained. "The only thing any of us are good for, huh?" Gecko remarked nonchalantly, intending to cease Komodo's departure by ignoring it altogether. "Ya know what? You're damn right, honey! We blow the pants off the viewers! And that's one thing more than the sickos in charge of this place." She then paused for a second, evaluating if she should actually give it to her straight. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head as she continued.

    For a brief moment, Komodo considered just ignoring Gecko and leaving the lounge. But it was rare these days for someone to outright tell her she was right. Especially when she tended to speak first and think later. Intrigued, she halted her retreat. Gecko almost sounded like a mirror image of the thoughts that frequently made their way into Komodo's head. After all, she hated the nutjobs who ran this shitstorm and forced the inmates to murder each other to get their kicks.

    "But you can't take credit as the Sterilizer. Why? Because you ain't pluckin' in out. That's Sue's job, and even she don't got the choice. But that's the great strength of being powerless, see? You can't be blamed for nothin'! Yer just winnin' and makin' money just like the rest of us aspire to. No responsibility, no guilt. The sooner we all learn that, the better off we'll be with each other and against those two egomaniacs. Cuz they're in the same sinking ship as us."

    A yawn halted the speech indefinitely. Wow, she hadn't went off on Komodo like that, well, ever. But she just looked so vulnerable in her apology and retreat, so Gecko couldn't help but go all in. She hoped she didn't sound noble or anything, though. Now grossed out by herself, Gecko attempted to create a self-distraction by flopping around the empty right sleeve of her shirt, as if trying to mimic the movement of an actual arm, though she probably just looked silly, as if transitioning from a lecturing parent to a child.

    Gecko wasn't exactly WRONG... but that didn't mean Komodo LIKED it. In a sense, it made her feel weak. She was too weak to accept that simple truth, and that annoyed the often ill-tempered Deadman. She hid her irritation this time, and simply responded in a stern and level tone. "Maybe. But some of us don't intend on going down with that ship. I don't know about you, but I'll fucking figure something out. Mark my words." With that, Komodo took her leave and headed back toward the stairs to the inmate dormitories, leaving a still-curious Gecko in her wake. Maybe playing some Gran Turismo or Devil May Cry would calm her irritation.
    "The truth may set me free, but it'll still piss me off."

  5. #5
    I Forgot My Title....
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    Well, with Komodo gone, the fun had ended, unfortunately. Iron Mask and Fist had far better things to do than antagonize a mute Deadman, so he was very quickly left alone with his thoughts and a bag of Doritos. He silently debated just caving and eating them. They WERE rare, after all. It couldn't hurt to just try them. The cafeteria was dead at this hour-most of the deadmen were likely still in the lounge, watching the finale of the fight that had just taken place. Cobra would occasionally watch them if a matchup intrigued him or if someone new were in the arena, but it was just Box Turtle and Fire Skink-one opponent he had beaten already, and another who he had watched a couple times before. Neither was a big seller.

    In fact, neither he nor Komodo had seen much action in the last week and a half or so since his victory over her. That thought concerned him-they surely were gearing up for a high-profile ticket quite soon, then. They weren't going to pit him and Komodo against each other so soon, though; rushed grudge matches rarely sold, and his heart just wasn't in the fight anymore. Komodo had been the final challenge, and he had beaten her. With his revenge boner slaked, he was no different than any other Deadman-survive as long as he could before that unlucky slip caught him and ended his life.

    He hoped it'd be of heart failure in his cell. Wouldn't that be a middle finger to the jerks who ran this place.

    His thoughts had begun to drift to what to do with the rest of his day when the noise of someone sitting across from him broke his concentration. A newbie, perhaps? He glanced up with mildly eager interest only to immediately sigh. Salamander. Cobra was never a fan of the other artist in the compound. He knew the man usually meant well, but he came off as far too pretentious for his own good. By and large, he had avoided contact with him out of choice. The few times they had met had not been unpleasant, but watching paint dry would have likely been an equally enjoyable experience.

    Looked like he was sketching or writing something. Cobra idly glanced at it, only to feel his temper rising. He had decided to write him out a question. Did he think he was being funny? Courteous? The flowing, sophisticated script only pissed him off more. Cobra put work into his messages because it was his only method of communication, and to put effort into that at least showed his dedication, and spooked a few of the newbies to Deadman Wonderland. This...this was just insulting. He probably thought he was 'lowering himself' to his level as an act of 'respect'. In the Corpse Carnival, it was never recommended to go full retard. And yet here Salamander was, treating one of the deadliest members like he was a second-class citizen.

    He took his own notebook in hand, scrawling quickly and crudely, much unlike his almost flowery cursive he had shown to Komodo. His shorthand message he roughly tore out of his notebook, before picking up his Doritos and casually walking away, hiding his indignation from the artist. While Komodo intimidated with her brutality and ability to get in your face, Cobra intimidated with his presence, never needing to fly off the handle to get people to back down. Salamander's only clue to how badly he had fucked up came from the note he had left behind:

    'I am more than capable of hearing you speak. Learn some respect or I'll make sure you can't write at me again.' He didn't mind openly threatening his fellow Deadmen. After all, he'd have to see them in the ring eventually, whether they liked it or not.

    Cobra burnt off steam with a lap around the compound before circling back to the stairs, looking for some peace and solitude within his cell. With a grumble, Cobra opened the bag of Doritos, deciding trying this new flavor would at least be a distraction from Salamander and his blatant ignorance. The immediate spicy whiff of processed corn chips assaulted him. Komodo probably WOULD love these. He popped one in his mouth, chewing silently and wrinkling his nose. They were....alright, but it was plenty hot. Cobra preferred Cool Ranch, but he hadn't seen that flavor in the commissary store in months. Still, any Dorito was better than no Dorito.

    Musing on it for a moment, Cobra tore a page from his notebook as he reached the second floor and Deadman residence. Scrawling a quick note, he affixed it to the bag, removing several Doritos until it was half full. He left the bag at the foot of a familiar cell before walking three doors to the right, unlocking and opening the metal door before shutting himself inside. Whenever Komodo would return to her cell, she'd find the remaining Doritos there. The note was simple: 'Ssssssorry for being an asshole. -C' There was even a little doodle of a snake beneath his Deadman's initial.

    Cobra's cell was not something any Deadman had gotten to see. The few times he had opened his door for a visitor, they would never have had a shot to see past the several ratty blankets he had pinned up like a screen, blocking the view of his cell from the entrance. No, Cobra didn't need any peeping Toms spying on his artwork...he doubted it would go over well with the public. Still, he had a work to finish, and so he sat down on his bed, eyeing the easel for what felt like forever before picking up his brush once more, trying to recreate that brief moment of perfection...
    Karma is the best.

  6. #6
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    In a bit of a wishy-washy state since her meeting with Gecko, Komodo merely rolled her eyes as Fist walked past her in the hallway. Why was he not back on the third floor yet? Probably just making it known that he was there. He always DID like to intimidate the Deadmen, after all. He didn't scare Komodo. She knew she was every bit as terrifying as he was. Well... at least she was in her own mind. Fist all but ignored Komodo, figuring that giving her no attention was the best way to piss her off in the long run. Just like a school bully who is ignored, he figured she would eventually shut the fuck up and fall in line. And so it was that the two simply passed each other by, leaving a tense feeling of resentful tolerance in their wake.

    Box Turtle was released from the infirmary after some basic first aid, and headed to the cafeteria to spend some of his winnings on a big meal. Fire Skink would follow suit a short time later, as her game was not a dangerous one... though it WAS incredibly painful. However, Komodo would not encounter either of them. She would be in her cell playing her PS3. ... but not before throwing a small tantrum in response to Cobra's "kindness". If the bastard was just going to give them away, why fucking buy them in the first place? She took the snacks, of course... but penned a note and wedged it against his door. "One of these days, Cobra... you won't wake up. And when that happens, I'll be the one standing over your lifeless fucking husk. Next time, just don't buy them if your plan is to give them away. - K. ... P.S. Kick Tegu in his nonexistant balls for me, and I'll pass you an antidote gummy from my stash. He's even more insufferable than you are." Under the initial, a crudely-drawn woman giving the reader the middle finger. Typical, really.

    With that settled, the sounds of yelling, fighting, and loud music were soon heard coming from Komodo's cell. She was playing another fighting game, moat likely. You would think someone whose life was DEFINED by violence would want a break from it and choose to play some other type of game. Not Komodo. She had always liked fighting games, even before her crimes and imprisonment. She pounded down the snacks she was given by Cobra, and sipped happily on a trio of beers she had been squirreling away. Alcohol was an extreme rarity in Deadman Wonderland, so it was a thing to be savored whenever it was available. She didn't even bother to close her cell door after a while. The combination of snacks, alcohol, and video games seemed to have calmed her wild temper for the time being. For the best, probably. An angry Komodo was not a good thing for anyone in the facility.

    "YEAH! FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE! FUCK!" rang out from Komodo's cell. Fire Skink, who was passing by on her way to her own cell, peeked her head in. Her face was incredibly swollen and her mouth packed full of gauze, so she was unable to speak... but her expression said it all. She wondered what the hell Komodo was yelling about. "Yo. Just beat a boss and... Oh, damn... they took your teeth, huh? Fuck, that sucks. Pop a squat, and we can play some Guilty Gear or Ridge Racer or something. Help take your mind off of shit. You can have a popsicle out of the mini-fridge, if you want one. Might help that swelling a bit." Not many got to see this side of Komodo, as she was usually full of piss and vinegar. However, she was every bit as human as everyone else. She was simply... less open about it than others. Nothing a bit of alcohol couldn't take care of, apparently.

    The two women played video games for a while, and Fire Skink mowed through half of the popsicles in Komodo's fridge... but the normally terrifying Deadman didn't seem to mind. This felt... normal. And that was no small comfort to Komodo. Hell, Fire Skink was even able to talk a bit after the first couple chilly treats. However, such things were fleeting in Deadman Wonderland. Any feeling of normalcy wpuld soon be replaced with the crushing realization that she was still trapped underground in a hellish nightmare and only kept alive to entertain bloodthirsty oligarchs. Still... the Deadmen needed moments like this in order to keep from going completely insane or falling into suicidal depression. They knew it, the Undertakers knew it, Dr. Sue knew it, and T-Rex certainly knew it.

    And so, Komodo and Fire Skink continued playing video games as if they were old friends... eating cheap snacks and yelling at the screen like a pair of children. No doubt their antics would attract the attention of other Deadmen. Komodo didn't give a shit, though. She'd had three beers (and she was a bit of a lightweight, given her relatively small stature), and she was feeling like a normal person for the first time in several days.
    Last edited by Salroka; 04-11-2018 at 06:43 AM.
    Spoiler: Neat Stuff Within 

  7. #7
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    Aku frowned as the man got up and walked away leaving a note. Had he just not wanted to talk to him or was he angry? He didn't understand the matter fully until he flipped the paper over reading the note. Instantly, he felt his anger fuel into the his mind as he read it. He felt as if he was only trying to be nice on the matter, but no. The Cobra had instead took it as an insult.

    He crumbled up the note only to look ahead to the man walking away throwing it to the side. "Well fuck you too!" He shouted towards him and picked up his tray of food walking away with it. He didn't care anyways. The room was filled with Deadmen. And thats all they were. Dead Men. They would all die some day, some sooner then others, but none the less they would all die eventually.

    Upon walking out of the cafeteria he made his way to his room. He could eat in there in peace AND he didn't have to be around rude people in his mind. Aku stepped into the room holding the tray and looked around at the cold floor and basic little bed he had out on the floor. His actual bed had broken long ago when he smashed it with his Thickened blade ability one day after having a run in with another Deadmen. It was halted soon after he brought his branch of sin out and ended him a huge beat down leaving him to rot in his cell.

    Aku sat down on the bed and looked up to the T.V. flicking it back on putting a dvd into the bottom of it. Instantly the screen lit up with an FBI warning to start then proceeded with the opening sequence. One of his favorite movies of all time had began the moment he hit the play button. Eager to watch his movie he blocked himself out to the world.

    The man looked up to his bunny as he took a bite of the slice of pizza he obtained for lunch frowning at the matter. "Watcha think Bunz? Being a jerk huh?" He spoke to the stuffed rabbit as if it would respond to him and answer his words. But alas it did not. "Yea you understand the situation all to well." Aku knew the bunny wouldn't respond but it did calm him to an extent.
    Last edited by Kiro Akira; 04-12-2018 at 08:05 PM.
    Spoiler: Quotes? 

    Spoiler: Kiros current favorite quote 

  8. #8
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    A little white after the Penalty Game had likely concluded some of the frequent lounge-going deadmen sought to return to the room, only for them to be repelled upon the sight of Gecko, who, with hair cloaking half of her face, stared through them and the doorway with her legs crossed on the couch. So still and unresponsive was she that it was as if she had died on the spot, not considering how she looked as such normally.

    One muslular deadman turnes the corner and jumped. "FUCKIN--Gah. Freak...didn't want to watch anything anyway. Someone let me know if she's confirmed dead and where so I know where not to sit on the sofa anymore." And with that, he and some others left, having learned not to even bother anymore. If Gecko seemed in any way territorial, even if she likely wasn't, they'd give her the whole place. Did many want to kill her? Yes, but most of those people recently figured she had little time left anyway, and that risking severe punishment to murder one akin to a frail old woman simply didn't appear as rewarding as it did in the past. The arrival of Komodo and Cobra signified this new shift further.

    The pale, scared woman paid no heed to anyone else. She was envisioning the Komodo still standing in front of her. The clawed deadman departed in a very unspectacular fashion, disappointing her, as if it was ultimately a waste of time. Maybe if she played the part of the antithesis instead she would have invoked a more extreme reaction, rather than this...incompletion. Gecko didn't like it, not at all. She craved a sense of resolution.

    She got her chance upon returning to the cafeteria when a lanky deadman walked past her with grump in his gait, one she recalled as Salamander. Curious of his business, she had also hardly seen the man before, aware that he was new. New lads were always hot topics in the carnival corpse, so it wasn't too farfetched to believe that he and her might go at it sooner rather than later. It was thus in her best interest to learn more about him, so she pursued him from a distance as he returned to his cell with food.

    As Salamander plopped down on an unusually tiny bed and switched on his television, Gecko leaned against the side of the entrance ominously, partially visible if he were to glance over to her. As he spoke something to a stuffed rabbit she perked. Ah, so there was a conflict. Good.

    "Understand what situation?" Gecko began suddenly, loud enough to reach his ears over the movie. She threw on a playful facade. "It's not nice to keep secrets. If Bunz has something to share I want in." It was funny-- The gesture was most likely just silliness to relieve stress, but considering the very noticeable voices in her own head, Gecko was sorta hoping Salamander actually heard one himself from the stuffed animal.
    "The truth may set me free, but it'll still piss me off."

  9. #9
    I Forgot My Title....
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    For about an hour Cobra was able to paint in peace. It really took the edge off, finally able to just relax in his cell, doing what he both loved and loathed most. He enjoyed it for its quiet contemplation and its beautiful results...but hated it for its constant mocking of his search for the perfect painting. He had thought he had come close with Gecko, but hers still was unfinished, sitting in the corner of his cell. He couldn't bring himself to finish that one yet. There were still unfinished details he needed to work out with the subject, one day when he was able to face up to what he had done. His eyes couldn't break away from it, enough that it was beginning to distract his focus away from his current work. After fighting with himself for what felt like forever, he decided he needed a distraction. Any distraction, and he could get back to finishing this painting in due time. He just needed an excuse to....

    "YEAH! FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE! FUCK!" Hello, window of opportunity. Cobra rose from his spot on his cot of a bed and opened his cell door after making sure nobody could see inside, noticing a scrap of paper fluttering to the floor as he did so. He picked it up, scanning it and letting a humored smile come to his face. Aww, she cared enough to write him back. Even though that care might have been devoted to hatred, he could sense the respect she held for his skill, at least. Respect that was ironically given in the form of a middle finger and hatred. He would HAVE to write her back, now. This was actually rather entertaining. In fact, he might as well pay a visit right then...walking back to where the sounds of people being hit really hard was coming from, he spotted Komodo doing what she often did best, slaughtering some poor 1s and 0s for looking at her funny. Not that he was above it-fighting games had been one of his favorite pastimes before he was incarcerated-it was just everything she did had to be to the extreme. It would be highly unnatural to see anything else. Still, he found himself screen-watching from the entrance, watching the two women go at each other in a way that didn't end in bloodshed.

    After a while, he decided he'd had enough of a break, and wanted to get back to his work. But before he did, he scrawled a note from his current pad and tore it off, slipping it inside the door and walking away after a quick knock to get her attention. The note read: "If you ever want to go a round, I used to play a pretty good Millia Rage. Thanks for the note. I was thinking you and I could be pen-pals. Or pen-seething hatred. Whichever works for you. I'll bring snacks. -C

    PS: For this month's Movie Night, I was thinking we could see if we could get us a DBZ movie. Either Android 13 or Broly if we could pull it off. Lemme know what you think."

    Even though their rivalry permeated the entire compound, Cobra and Komodo could be civil in the same room. It didn't happen often, but Movie Night tended to be the time when all convicts just dropped their grievances and enjoy themselves. Each member pitched in a few scales to buy a movie that they all watched in the lounge, and this month he felt like some anime. He'd watched some of Dragonball in the past, but had never gotten around to the movies. That was an error he'd like to fix. With that matter settled, he left Komodo and Fire Skink to their game, figuring his presence wasn't required any longer. He turned back to his cell. He probably ought to go back and work on his-

    "Well, g'day, Cobra!" Shit. Not Crocodile. The Australian inmate approached him with a bright smile, shrouded ever so slightly by the hint of paranoia. He wasn't sure why, but the most polarizing figure in Deadman Wonderland had decided that the two of them were friends, and he was in no position to tell him otherwise. Unlike Cobra, Crocodile had killed in the ring. And while there had been casualties before, he actively seemed to enjoy it. They were all in here for one reason or another, but most of them weren't serial murderers on his level. He seemed to think he was providing justice of some sort...so then why befriend one of the more irritable and deadly Deadmen? It didn't make any sense to him...not that he'd say that to the Aussie's face. Cobra waved politely, and luckily Crocodile seemed to be preoccupied with something else, as he quickly disappeared into his cell. He would have left it there, but he could hear grunting coming from within. Admittedly curious, Cobra followed Crocodile and stuck his head in.

    What he saw would have made him burst out laughing if he possessed the capability. Crocodile's cell was pretty sparse, considering he was a newer arrival, but one thing he had purchased was a mirror, which he had propped up against the wall of his cell. He seemed to be, of all things, practicing poses. Probably superhero poses, if he had to take a wild stab at it. He seemed fully invested in it as well, muttering to himself as though he were taking personal notes. Oh, this was too good an opportunity to pass up. After watching him cycle through a few more options, Cobra scribbled down a note, then knocked loudly on the door. Crocodile jumped practically a mile and spun, his eyes shifty, his look frightened. This man...you could write a book on his behaviors and not even crack the surface on just how loony he really was. When he saw the intruder was merely a friend, he calmed down again. "What can I do fer ya, mate?"

    Cobra pointed to his note. 'Looks like you're trying to find a pose that's really you...have you tried sticking your face in the crook of your elbow and throwing your other arm straight back? It'd look like a real vigilante of the night then.' If this worked, he HAD to show the others this.

    Crocodile pored over his words, then looked up at him, performing the move in front of him and nearly sending Cobra into a rasping fit of 'laughter' for its ridiculousness. "So...like this then?" Cobra nodded, adding a hastily scrawled message 'You look like a real hero!'

    That caused the Aussie to really brighten up, like a kid who had just stumbled upon a free candy store.. "Thanks, mate! I kin' always count on you! I'm gonna practice this for me big entrance!" Crocodile then spun back around, immediately practicing his new move in preparation for his next big match. Cobra merely walked back to his cell, the smuggest smile on his face as he opened the door, ready to get back to his artwork. After all...he didn't know very many dabbing superheroes today. This had been an incredibly productive thirty minute break...
    Last edited by Iwazuma; 04-30-2018 at 09:43 AM.
    Karma is the best.

  10. #10
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    While watching the movie he took no notice to the Gecko as they propped themselves against the entrance to his room. It wasn't until she had spoken he nearly jumped out of his skin and looked over to her. It was a surprise to see anyone speaking to him. He rarely made any friends and rarely even spoke to people.

    With a nod he acknowledged Gecko. "Bunz has a lot of secrets. There was this one guy who said that Bunz was a freak with his own art and Bunz just killed them on the street." Even though he knew it was him who killed the man he didn't care. Salamander gave a nod in agreement and took a bite of his food before pausing the movie.

    Aku hated missing his movie, especially when he could have seen it. None the less he focused his attention on the girl before him giving a shrug at the matter. He didn't really want to talk to much about it as it only fueled his anger more. "People are just ass holes here it's nothing to worry about, and if you were there you would have probably seen it."
    Spoiler: Quotes? 

    Spoiler: Kiros current favorite quote 

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