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[RP] Galactic Underground|Night|Raining

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GrizzlyEatsKids:
OOCC Thread: http://www.pokemon-universe.com/index.php/topic,4880.msg130296.html#msg130296
Profiles Thread: http://www.pokemon-universe.com/index.php/topic,4881.0.html

Plot
In another world, a competition of epic proportions takes place. Humans have discovered a way to transport their minds across dimensions and become another being, known as an astrals. As their astral, people battle against one another, which has allowed many to gain fame and glory over the years, but from year to year, there can be only one that can be called a true champion. Once a year, a grand tournament takes place in the fighter capitol of the world, Vangrant city. The tournament almost seemed like the perfect sport, a perfect escape from any problems one might encounter in the real world, but things did not always remain that way.

Twenty-three years ago, the world was thrown into chaos by the evil Shroud, who used mysterious red orbs, that, when activated, trapped the fighters in the arena, suddenly turning the battles into a real life fight to the death.  Using these orbs, Shroud trapped most of the tournament's contestants in battle, where the majority of them were killed upon defeat. Not all hope was lost, though, as the human fighter Daylin Hakima, who had proved to be one of the top fighters entered in that year's tourney, joined forces with Stan Masters, the raining champ at that time. Garlock, Daylin's astral, fused with Stan's astral, Ripfang, to form Shadow Garlock. Using his newly found power, Garlock was able to defeat Shroud, and the red orbs were destroyed. Stan was no longer able to battle, though, as he had decided to leave Ripfang with Daylin, the new champion.

Due to the tragedies that occurred, the tournament was discontinued, and astral fighting itself became an illegal activity. This inevitably led to the formation of an underground league, where fighters would get together and battle in secret locations, despite the fact that it was against the law. Without a true organization or governing body to control this underground league, many battlers found that they were able to get away with using forbidden items, techniques, and stages. Fighters still attended these battles though, as it was the only way for them to continue their favorite activity. Four years later, astral fighting became accepted by the legal system once again, and people were able to see the rise of a new, official, organized league of astral fighting, complete with all new, never before seen arenas. This league was known as the Galactic Fighters Association, or GFA for short. Each year's season in the league ended with a newly revised tourney, now called the Galactic Finals, to determine a new champion. The league prospered and thrived for a number of years, but so did the underground. While many of the underground's participants migrated over to the GFA, there were still some that remained behind, for various reasons.

Over time, the underground grew, and five man teams, or gangs, began to dominate this still-illegal league. While the intentions of those who participated in this league differ greatly, rumor has it that the one who conquers the underground will obtain something life-changing. As for what this something is, as well as how the underground is to be conquered, remains a mystery, the rumors are well known and believed by nearly everyone that participates. Because of this, cheating has become even more common in the underground, as a win is all that matters to many. Eventually, the underground instituted its own sort of championship as well. Although it has no official name, it is referred to many as the Black Tourney, where every gang that wishes is allowed to participate and battle others in a best of five, tournament-style bracket. For those few that do not belong to a gang, there are several other lone wolves that set up what many call a mercenary gang, or a team created just for the Black Tourney that is to be disbanded afterwards. The gang that wins the tournament then gets the chance to take on the top three teams of the underground (who don't participate in the tourney) in any order they wish, again in a best of five format. It is unknown what the gang who defeats these three, referred to as the Triad, as this feat has never been accomplished.

The GFA's popularity has decreased recently, as in the past three years, eight of the Galactic Finals's past champions have either been murdered or have mysteriously disappeared. The most recent of these cases is the death of world-class fighter Daylin Hakima. After this occurrence, the GFA has made the difficult decision to close down both the league and the Galactic Finals, which was set to occur in only a week. It seems as if history could be repeating itself, for with the GFA's closure, astral fighting has once again been outlawed, and a select few of the GFA's fighters find themselves with a mysterious invitation that could only lead to the underground. While many suddenly discover themselves to be surrounded by mystery, what lies ahead, for both astral fighters and not, can only be described as something that will be life-changing.


Rules
-No Godmodding. You are not all powerful, and must be fair to the other players.

-No off topic discussions in the OOCC. Please leave the OOCC just for RP related things.

-All posts must be a paragraph, or at least 4 sentences, long. Anything shorter will result in a warning, and multiple warnings will result in being kicked from the RP.

-You must use proper grammar and spelling at all times in your posts. You can write character dialogue in any style you wish so long as it is readable.

-All battle results must be determined beforehand in either the OOCC, or through PM's. Since this is a fighting RP, it will be up to you who wins and who loses.

*For the sake of space, all other details will be in the OOCC

*This is a sequel to Galactic Tournament, an RP by Xetroc.

JerryEDIT: Approved

GrizzlyEatsKids:
GM POST
It was a bright, sunny day in Vagrant City, but it was too bad that the feeling didn't quite translate to all of its citizens. The recent events that lead up to the closing of the GFA, namely the death of Daylin Hakima, had shaken the world into almost a depression and a state of disbelief, and right in the center of it all was Vagrant City. People began checking out of hotels, and a few even moved out of their homes. The world continued turning, though, and life moved on, and while business dipped a little for the city, not much else seemed to change, save for the atmosphere, which felt heavier and gloomier than it typically did in the late fall.

Something was going on tonight, though. It was something so big that some thought it could change this gloomy atmosphere all on its own, but for being so big, so few people were able to know of it. Many of the underground sat in anticipation, for tonight was the underground's first meeting since the closure of the GFA a week ago. Interestingly enough, should the GFA continued, today would be the start of the Galactic Finals.

As the underground fighters awaited the reveal of the location for tonight's event, a series of mysterious letters, contained in navy envelopes, arrived through the mail at the homes and hotels of several GFA fighters. The envelopes contained a simple message written on a blue sheet of paper with a thick, white ink. The message read:

WE HAVE BEEN STRIPPED OF OUR FREEDOM,
INTEGRITY,
HONOR,
AND GLORY.
HELP US BEGIN TO TAKE IT BACK TONIGHT. HELP US, HELP YOURSELF, ON A ROAD TO REDEMPTION.
IT IS TIME FOR YOUR ASTRAL TO FIGHT AGAIN. JOIN US TONIGHT IN THE UNDERGROUND AND BATTLE FOR A CAUSE.
BATTLE FOR YOUR CAUSE.
In a much smaller print at the bottom of the letter were fairly simple instructions. If the recipient of the letter so wished, then that evening, at sunset, they were to meet with a contact (which was different for each person) at a specified location in the industrial district.

Luke and Kat

It was Kat's birthday in a few days, and so Luke had spent the morning looking for the perfect gift, yet suffice to say he had nothing. He could have just bought her a hoodie, as she always wore that cat-themed jacket of hers, no matter the weather, but he wanted something a bit more special.

As Luke made his way through a less-crowded portion of the downtown area on his way to the monorail station, Luke reached up and pulled his gray jacket hood up over his head. He cursed under his breath. It was a bit cold today, and in his rush to leave the house early before Kat woke up and started asking where he was going, Luke forgot his beanie. He almost never forgot his beanie. He wasn't sure why, but the ever so famous opening tune of the Vagrant City News caught his attention, and he turned toward the giant screen that was planted on the side of a nearby building.

"We're receiving a special report on the murder-case of the once great astral fighter Daylin Hakima," the news reporter said into her microphone, right off the bat of the newscast. "Inside sources are telling us here at the VCN that authorities claim to be one step closer to finding the killer of Mr. Hakima. News is scarce at the moment, but we promise to keep you updated throughout the day on any developments."

With that, the short newscast ended. Luke rolled his deep, brown eyes as he continued to make his way to the station, but stopped once again to take his now ringing phone out of his pocket.

"Hello?" he asked upon unlocking the smartphone.

"Hey, where are you? I've got something...weird." It was the unmistakable, soft, cute sound of Kat's voice.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I'm on my way home," Luke replied, continuing to walk. "But what do you mean by weird?"

"It's some kind of letter. It doesn't make much sense to me, you have to see it."

"Alright, I'm on my way," Luke replied, "I'll see you in a bit."

Luke hung up the phone and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, swiftly making his way to the monorail station.

NexosYourGayBestFriend96:
Nexalas

Nexalas was typing away on his laptops keyboard, lazying on one of the couches. It was boring today as usual, aside from the occasional training sessions Nexalas had nothing to do but test out his coding skills... or bug Ashton.

Soooo, Ash

He looked across the room to his supposed leader, on the other couch trying to sleep.

I heard a rumor that there are going to be newbies in the underground soon from the GFA, want to see if we can get some new members?

He was half hopeful that Ashton would be in the mood to do something leadery, but he knew they came back from a funeral. Knowing Ash, he'll probably take a day or two off of fighting or being a leader, in which case the group will take yet another pause. Again.

WhistfulSoul:
Soul

Another boring day.

Sitting behind an abandoned car, Soul stares through the scope of his rifle, waiting for  the first of the horde to appear. It's been days since he set out, so he was running a bit low on supplies. But he couldn't venture too far into town until he knew the group of zombies he saw the other day wouldn't interfere.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, but no noise, and whipped out his knife to ready himself. He saw a small box in the corner of his eyesight, reading EXTERIOR CONTACT. Soul tapped his chest above his heart, disabling the Virtual Reality suit he was wearing. He now stood facing an associate of his father.

A letter for you, Sir. I'll leave you until later in the day. The man turned and left with a wink.

Soul was now holding a navy envelope, containing a blue sheet of paper with white lettering. After reading it over, he realized what the man meant. He dialed his fathers' office and pressed the intercom button on the room's security monitor.

Hey dad, I'm going out with some friends for dinner. I'll be back sometime late. Let mom know so she isn't worried.

The-Blades-slave:
Ash and Misty
Ash was sprawled out on another couch, arms crossed over his chest and hat covering his face. His breathing was heavy and labored, and he barely registered Nexalas' speaking to him.  His mind was focused on the funeral he had just gotten back from, on his Dad's face in the coffin. It had hurt so much to see his Dad like that, normally tanned skin so pale, the normally confident look on his face exchanged for something more serene. If Ash hadn't known better, he would have thought he was sleeping. It was so heart-wrenching to look over at his Mom, a woman normally composed of sugar and spice and everything nice, in tears. To see her staring at his Dad, to watch her experience the same thing he did and more. It wasn't fair.

"Ash, did you hear Nexalas?" Misty spoke loud enough for him to hear her, but her voice was gentle. She'd been through what he had, and it was easy to see through his facade. He was never good at hiding his emotions, he didn't inherit that family trait. So he always hid behind his hat, the thing he never took off, that he had gotten from his Dad for his birthday ten years. "He asked if you wanted to go size up the newbies." The statement was incredibly ironic coming from her, considering she'd only been there for two week herself. She'd come to watch over him, but he was just drawing farther and farther away....

"Nah, you guys can if you want. I just want a nap." The raven-haired battlers voice cracked slightly, but he quickly went silent. He just wanted to be alone. He wasn't even sure why they were here, he had wanted to head home, not come to the warehouse. But Misty had insisted that they come here. And considering she was in a knee-length, midnight black one piece dress, black sandals, and had let her her hair lose, allowing it to fall to her shoulders in waves, he didn't argue. Misty hated dressing up, so she must have thought it was important. So here he was.

"Ashton Hakima, get up right now!" Misty jerked up out of the recliner she was sitting in, stomping over to stand above Ash. "It's been two weeks, Ash. I've given you your mourning period, and I've been with you the whole time. I'm at your house every morning before you even wake up, and I don't go home until after you've fallen asleep! I'm doing everything I can, but you just keep pushing me away. You won't even talk to your Mom! Do you know how that makes her feel? One son always gone, another who won't speak to her. You may have lost your Dad, but she lost her husband. The man she's known since before you were born. Don't you think that it hurts her, too? But she's trying to be strong for you, Ash." Misty stopped her rant for a moment, fists clenched into the sides of her dress and breathing heavily. "But you don't appreciate it." The sentence hung in the air, drifting around the room.

"You don't think I appreciate it, Misty?" Ash's voice no longer wavered, it was just scold, emotionless. "You don't think I appreciate that you've given up so much of your time to help me? I do, Myst, I really do, but I can't help how I feel. I can't help that I feel like any of you could be ripped away from me at anytime. That you could be walking home and someone could grab you and kill you, that Mom could slip walking down the stairs and break her neck. That Red could disappear and no one would notice, because Red is always gone. I can't help it, Myst. Dad was the strongest battler ever, the strongest person I knew. And they got him. If they can take Dad down, Misty, what can I do to stop them from getting any of you? What could I do if they came for you and Mom?" Ash had stood up at this point, hat discarded on the ground and tears streaming from his eyes, dripping onto the cement floor. He sounded broken, like someone could blow on him and he'd fly away.

"Ash... You don't deal with death by running away from the people who love you." Misty locked eyes with him, no longer glaring, just staring "Yes,  Ash, death is a fickle mistress, one no one has ever beaten. But that just means you have to spend more time with them, make more memories, so that when they finally are gone, you can look back and smile. That's the reason your Mom has tried calling Red every day since your Dad died, and the reason, for the first time in a long time, he's picked up. It's the reason I've spent so much time with you."

The room fell into silence, while Nexalas chirped awkwardly in the background, completely forgotten about.

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