The Great Race of Doom II

“What are you doing in my room!” the blonde haired young woman yelled.

The leather clothed young man looked up from the diary he was reading and smiled. “Ah, Roery! Long time no see.”

Holding the towel tightly around her, the girl stomped over and ripped the book out of his hands. “How did you know where I lived?” she asked curtly, brushing the wet hair out of her eyes.

“Now is that any way to treat an old friend?” Zyler asked, still smiling. “How long’s it been, almost a year, right?”

Roery rolled her eyes and strolled over to the dresser, opening the drawers and grabbing a pair of clothes quickly. “Just what are you doing here?” she asked, turning to glare at him.

“I just came to see my old friend again. Does there have to be some other reason behind it?” He asked, taking careful note of the undergarments in her hand.

“You think I’m stupid?” she asked, turning and slamming the bathroom door behind her.

“Ouch...” the blue haired man mumbled to himself as he sat up and leaned forward. “I don’t suppose you remember that time I saved your neck back at the canyon.” He asked, idly grabbing a picture frame off the bed side desk.

“... Just what do you want?”

Zyler chuckled slightly. “Like I said! I wanted to see one of my good friends again.” He answered, putting the picture back down. “And also... I have some news I think you might be interested in hearing about.”

“... Um hum…”

“See... the race is ganna be starting up again in a few weeks—it’s an annual thing, you know—and I thought it’d be a great way for us to get to know each other a little better.”

Roery snorted humorously. “You really think I’m ganna join that crappy little race again? That was one of the worse experiences of my life.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You got to meet me because of it, didn’t you?” He asked with a grinning. “Besides, you looked pretty happy by the end of it.”

Roery staid silent for a second before opening the door, fully dressed, and stepping out of the bathroom. Zyler was standing right in front of her. “The answers no.”

“Ah, but see. I’m not taking no for an answer.” He took a step closer and placed his hand gently on her neck. Roery stiffened and got ready to bash his skull in any second.

“See, this time I came prepared.” He said with a small smirk. “Zap.”

Roery winced as a small pain shot into the side of her neck. For a moment, she couldn’t bring the strength to her limbs to cause the blue haired man serious injury or death. Zyler moved his hand away, revealing a small black sign on her neck. “There we go. The curse is set, of course it won’t activate until the race starts, so I hope you’ll be joining us.” He stated with a relatively pleasant smile. Roery clenched her jaw and promptly kneed the blue haired freak in the crotch, hard, and strolled out of the room, leaving Zyler to crumble on her room floor.

The young man winced and coughed into his fist. “...Man, I love that girl.”

<~~~~~~~~~~~~~~>

It was the same old seen as last year, only this time she was among the willing contestants, ironic as it was. She was on the outskirts of a large tent settlement which had been set up for about a week. Most contestants liked to get there early so they could find out as much as possible about the races conditions and info about the other riders to better their chances of winning and receiving the small fortune granted to whoever won first place. Roery had arrived with only a few hours before sunrise, when the race would start. She wanted to be there for as short a time as possible.

A few hundred yards away stood another gathering of tents and shanty houses, all containing those who were forced to compete in the race. Behind it stood the massive purple dragon and the large herd of creatures and beasts, all either mounts for the riders, or sentient animals, and all were fast asleep, held under the queen dragons spell. To the side of the tent was fenced every mechanical vehicle you could think of, all belonging to the riders held captive in the tents.

Of course, Roery couldn’t see all this from where she stood, but she knew the general gist of the layout from past experiences, having been held there about a year ago. It wouldn’t be long now before the captives would be freed so they could prepare themselves, unwillingly or not, for the race to come.

“Ah! You came!”

Roery turned and glared at the man approaching her.

“You know, I’m really starting to get used to that face. Before long I wont even be able to say your name without picturing that cute scowl of yours. Not so say I don’t do that already.”

“I’m sure.” Roery said dully before turning to leave.

“Hey, you got that little present I left you, right? I hope that was enough to fix your bike up.” He said hopefully. Of course there had been more then enough to buy a whole new bike.

“What, and you think that’s ganna make up for what you’ve done to me?”

“Well, not exactly. Just a kiss would do.” He said with a smile.

Roery closed her eyes and fumed silently to herself. She then pulled a large leather bag out of her jacket pocket and chucked it at the blue haired man. “I took what I needed to fix my bike, but I don’t want any more of your charity. Just stay away from me.” She stated before spinning around and walking away.

OoC: If your joining this and you haven’t read the first Great Race of Doom already, then you have to at least read the first post.

I think the people who are joining this are Puck, Zorolo, ML, Scholar, insaney, and HH. I'll allow eight people total so if you have a character that can compete in the race and you want to join, send me a PM. There’s ganna be no posting order so if you take too long to post you'll get left behind =P

The race track will go through many different terrain’s and will last for multiple days, so anyone can change up the terran or time of day whenever they want in their posts.
Zyler; Roery's bike

"Should be around here somewhere..." the demonic demon hunter muttered as he walked along the coarse, parched ground, his black leather boots crunched loose rocks and gravel beneath his feet. He tilted his hat up slightly, granting his vision a bit of extra light, even through his darkened sunglasses, looking back and forth. "You can camouflage all you want... It's just a matter of time before I find you, c'mon, give it up already so I can get my paycheck!" Liam yelled, ending his call with a sinister grin, taking his glasses off and scanning around the landscape.

"I'm giving you three seconds to come out now or else I won't have hesitation for when I actually find you and believe me, I will actually find you if you don't. Pick, c'mon," he growled.

"One..." he began, taking off his dark leather gloves off each pallid, pale hand and putting them in his black coats' pockets.

"Two..." he said, gripping the ends of his sleeves and rolling them up slightly, grinning again.

"Ah, c'mon, two and a half?" he asked, sighing and cracking his knuckles, flexing out of his fingers slightly.

Suddenly, the mercenary heard something approaching, but it certainly wasn't the demon he had been tracking. Wing-beats of something. He sighed and wheeled around, seeing the familiar face, the blue-haired, young-looking and leather garbed punk, Zyler. Liam scowled as the guy soared close on the damn dragon-like beast of his.

"Hey there!" he cheerfully called out, with an ear-to-ear smirked on his face, which was more than sickening to the demon hunter.

"What do you want, kid, I'm busy, sod off!" Liam scolded, not wanting anything to do with this brat.

Zyler let out a slight chuckle and shook his head, that smirk still there. "All I wanted was to extend an invitation to-"

Before the blue-haired man could finish, Liam materialized a board of metal beneath his feet, reversing its polarity to that of the ground and speeding off, flying the board swiftly away. A few moments later, Zyler was riding right beside Liam, smirking still. "Go away, kid!" Liam yelled, stomping the back of his board into the ground and an upheaval of dirt and rocks flew everywhere, making a thick cloud.

Liam sped off in a new direction, looking back at the cloud and laughing. He turned to face the new destination, back to where his target was and suddenly stopped, seeing Zyler already ahead of his path, his dragon mount circling above, like a vulture ready to swoop down on its prey. "Wasn't the race fun, c'mon, one more, it comes around every year!"

"Ok, obviously I can't talk my way out of this. Hmm... how to sort out a problem without talking... oh, I know!" Liam growled, a metal blade protruded out of his forearm. The mercenary hopped off his board and his ride was pulled to his free arm, curving and contorting to craft a cruel, spiked shield. He swung the blade in a diagonal slash, aiming to start at his right shoulder, hoping to eviscerate the man.

Zyler, still with that sickening smirk of his, ducked under the swipe and delivered an uppercut to Liam's neck, but instead of a closed fist that hit, his open hand gripped around Liam's neck and a surge of that strange shocking energy wrecked through the mercenary's system for a long, brutalizing moment. Zyler released his grip, leaving the cursed mark on the side of his neck.

"So I'll so you there!" Zyler smirked and his dragon flied down to him, allowing him to climb on. Liam, with his uncanny ability to regenerate, rose back up and grabbed the man's foot, yanking him down and delivering a crippling punch to his left kidney. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it!" he shouted, before storming off, leaving Zyler to slowly try and recover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liam sighed, looking back and forth as some of the 'participants' were arriving at the tent area, getting ready for the race. The mercenary groaned, pacing back and forth with a combination of rage and anxiety. Liam sighed once more, but tilted his glasses down to see a blond-green eyed girl that he'd seen before.

Liam made his way over. "Hey, you look familiar. You were in the last race, I don't think we've officially met, I'm Liam, and you are-"

"Roery," the woman said, almost eager to cut of his sentence, not in the most hospitable mood, but who could blame her.

"Hey, Roery, that's quite a unique name. So you got re-shackled into this mess too, huh? Hey listen, I wanna get outta here as fast as humanly possible, so you seem like you're pretty experienced enough. How 'bout... I help you during this ordeal, you help me, we split the prize once we win? Hell, you can have more than half, how's that sound?"

Right beside a tent, but a little way from it was where all the vehicles lined up. Every vehicle, both known and unknown to man were lined up neatly awaiting their drivers and the start of the race. There were cars, bikes and even small jets. And some things were there that even the government had no name or special 'project code' for.

All of them looked like if they were in mint condition: filled tanks, oiled up, fine tuned and ready to go. The road was before them, all that were needed now were their drivers and the start of the race...

Another vehicle pulled up next to the last one, but no one came out, and the engine didn't cut off. It remained like that for a long while. Some people passed by, wondered who left their car running, and then moved on, shrugging their shoulders.

"Say, I don't remember you or your driver..." A blue-haired man ran his hand along the hood of the jet black car.

He didn't notice the red light at the front that pulsed as a white light ran across it.

"So who's the driver? Is he still in the car?"

The man squinted his eyes and tried looking through the heavily tinted windshield. He bent over a little, holding his side and wincing slightly, probably receiving pain from some old injury. He soon gave up when he couldn't see if anyone was in the car.

Suddenly, the car's engine revved.

"Oh, so there's someone in the car? Come on out and let's have a talk."

The door did not open, the car kept running.

The blue-haired man seemingly got impatient. He raised a finger and pointed it at the hood of the car.

"Zap."

A bolt of lightning shot out of his finger and hit the hood. Sparks flew for a while, followed by a high-pitched whining sound and then a shockwave caused by a electro-magnetic pulse; the result of the nanomachines on the car's body dispelling any extra electricity.

Suddenly the car pulled itself forward and rammed into the man. He fell forward unto the hood, his face went smack against the windshield, leaving a tiny smear of blood from a busted lip.

He slid off after a small while and walked away, wiping the blood of his lips and limping.

"If you wanna race that badly, fine. The more the merrier!" he grinned.

The windshield-wipers started up, scraping the blood off the glass. Too bad, rain wasn't falling to help wash it away.

OoC: Okay, for this thread, Emile's armor is mildly different. Her chest plate has a much higher voltage level than normal, her thrusters have a longer period of use, she's overall much much faster, and her armor is stronger. Now then, let there be fun. ^_^

BiC: "Well if this doesn't suck!" Emile muttered as she continued to walk along with a large bag over her shoulders and a wrapped cylinder across her back. She looked around at the massive field that would be the battlefield in the games to come. She had heard word of it through the grape vine through a friend. Now was the true test of her speed. This would be fine. This would be fun.

The Silver Beauty looked at the other combatants with a smile as she took the bag off of her back and placed her pack on the bag. The woman took her spear out of the wrapping that had bound it and smiled. The Divine Lancer was ready to dance, and so was her spear.

The purple haired girl picked up her helmet and put it on. Pressing the button on the right side, the whole helmet lit up for a moment as words flashed across the screen. "Gravitate, armor!" Emile yelled as her armor scattered into the air and flew towards her, equipping itself to her almost by thought. The roller battler picked up her spear and placed it along her back and smirked as he skated. forwards.

"Hello!" a man with blue hair said as he approached her and shook her hand forcefully. "Welcome to my race. Now then, before you can begin, you need something," he told her as a volt of electricity ran through her suit. A mark appeared on her forehead and she stepped back, mildly woozy.

"What was that?" the purple haired girl asked as she looked at the man.

"Just something you need to compete. Now then, go forwards."

Emile nodded and grunted angrily as she skated to the starting line. It was time to kick ass and take names.

o=)---------- A peaceful meadow... somewhere----------(=o

Today had been a relatively normal day in the life of Zorlo, the Aura Master and fencer of Tasogare. The clouds were few, the sun shined down on the meadow, and there were at least four thousand troops surrounding him. Just another normal day for the Aura Master to kill time on. Even so, the blue haired man in front of him seemed to be smiling. Clearly, he knew who he was up against.

The man laughed nervously as he extended his hand. "Hello... my name is Zyler and its an infinite honor to meet you, Mr. Zorlo. I've come to ask your assistance," he said, shaking in his boots. The figure that had its back to him turned and smiled at the man, probably reassuring the blue haired man for a second.

The fencer held his hand out and shook the man's hand. A volt of lightning rushed towards the fencer, and he merely smiled as the blue haired man yelped in pain. "I'm Zorlo, the Fencer of Tasogare and Aura Master. It's honor to meet you. And now, why did you bring nearly four thousand men to meet me? After all, not one of them looks at all confident."

The sound of shaking echoed outwards from the ranks as the fencer released Zyler's hand, the man nursing his nearly broken hand as he looked at the fencer. "I've cursed you! Now then, you must join my race!" he said nervously, the sweat beading from his body clear.

Zorlo could have easily dispelled the curse and proceed to defeat four thousand men, but that would be too easy. Instead the fencer nodded and walked towards a tree. Resting his hand on the tree, a group of monkeys appeared moments later with a camel with them and handed the reins to Zorlo. The Aura Master nodded as he and his camel trotted off towards the race and the starting line. After all, this had the potential to be fun.

In all things we must make a choice. To win or to lose, it is really all up to you. If you chose victory then have at her, fight to your hearts content with the knowledge you can win, and win you shall. That is how Derrik believed. In all things he did, he refuted the idea that losing was an option, to him losing meant death. So he would not lose. Derrik sighed lightly as he planned his next move, all the while washing the hood of his car.

"That's a nice car you got there,"

Derrik did not bother towards the man as he spoke, "What of it,"

"I bet it can go pretty fast,"

"What of it,"

"Are you interested in a race?"

Derrik looked up at the man for a second and then promptly ignored him uttering only a word, "No."

"I wasn't asking," The blue haired man smiled lightly,"I was telling you that you are going to be in this race whether you want to or not,"

Derrik turned his shot gun already pointing at the man's head, "Listen, I don't know who you think you are but I don't have time to play games with some blue haired freak,"

"The names Zyler," The man said confidently, pushing down the barrel of Derrik's gun, "I wouldn't kill me if I where you, or you might find yourself, quite dead. You see I have put a curse on you, and only I can lift it, if you don't play games with me, then you die by the time the race is finished. However, if you wanna play then I might let you live,"

"A curse...like poison?" Derrik laughed, "Fine, but after I win this race, I am going to come for you,"

"Deal,"

---__--__--__---

Derrik drove up towards the tents just as the race was about to start. Like all things he was planning on winning this race, no matter who or what would race against him. Opening up his trunk Derrik took out box after box of ammo, of all kinds, and placed them all carefully in the back seat of his car.

OoC: I'm gonna use Mirorin, he's going to be doing a mix of flying and riding demi-elemental animals, depending on the terrain and what mood I'm in when I post.

BiC: "Why did I agree to this again?" The Elemental asked, looking at all the mountable beasts and restless competitors.

"Because you think with the brain in your pants, and thus weren't given a choice." The Violet eyed temptress smirked.

"Ah, that. Thanks for reminding me of that Vylla, I'll store those memories away for later." He smirked, and with that, he walked over to join the rest of the racers, rubbing the bite mark on his neck. I'm a fighter, not a racer... But I suppose this could prove interesting.

------------------FLASHBACK WARNING------------------

It had been a boring day, Mirorin was visiting a town with an Arena, having tired of Ragnarok's stiff attitude. I just can't understand something like that, my brainchild, could become such an "All-Business" place. None of them are any fun to be around, at all, the Elemental lamented silently, bumbling through town towards the nearest brothel with the intention of spending his winnings. He made his way towards the red light district, drunk with success, and feeling invincible.

"Found it!" He blurted, seeing a suitable dive. The Antlus, was the name, though the Neon sign's t and l were out, making Mirorin giggle. So, walking into the Anus, Mirorin looked for potential enjoyment. There were a few girls at tables together, but experience had taught him to avoid groups and isolate the target. Looking to the bar, Mirorin found what he was looking for. A single woman among the men at the bar, and she was gorgeous. Bubblegum pink hair, and dressed in scant purple leather, her profession seemed obvious, but then she turned, and he saw her mesmerizing purple eyes. Forgetting any qualms of hotdog-hallway scenarios, he sat down next to her, neglecting to order a drink. "What brings you here?" He asked the beauty.

"I'm here to find some real men for a big annual race." She purred, locking those pools of bliss on him Then, switching to a hushed voice, "Well, that's what I tell everyone, I'm actually looking for a goodpartner, if you know what I mean."

The way she said it got Mirorin's attention quick enough, and he announced aloud, "I'm a real man, why don't you tell me about this *ahem* race of yours, somewhere else, away from all this noise." The black clad man stood, and led the girl outside by the hand, glee apparent in his demeanor. Once they reached the outside air, she took the lead, taking him through back streets and twisted shortcuts and eventually to a moderate sized apartment section a few blocks away. She hurried him up the stairs, giggling the whole way, and at her door, she turned and kissed him long and deep.

Rubbing against her, Mirorin pressed her body into the door until her key found the lock and the door flung open. There was a lot of rubbing and kissing on the way to the bed as Mirorin's natural lack of inhibition took over after the first kiss. When they reached it, she threw him onto the mattress and the leather covering her top half disappeared. Mirorin's eyes rolled up into his head, and she jumped on top of him, kissing his neck. Taking initiative, his hands began roaming, and as soon as he got a good squeeze in, she bit him, hard, and his whole body felt a burning sensation as he quickly lost consciousness.
----------------------------------
Vylla left the apartment after writing him a short note and redressing, only to find Zylar leaning on the wall outside her door.

"Well that's one way to do it." The punk smirked, taunting her.

"Shut it blue boy, you've got your methods, and I've got mine." She growled. "Besides, mine is much more fun than yours."
----------------------------------

Awaking to a headache, Mirorin's first thought was that he had a hangover, then he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and the details of the night before flooded back to him. Getting up, he saw a folded note on the nightstand by her bed. Reading it, he smiled.

Dear Mr. "Real man",

You said you were interested in the race, and now, you're signed up. Go look in the mirror, that mark is a curse that activates when the race begins, sapping your health if you refuse to participate or go too far outside the boundaries. The only way to break it is to finish the race, but don't worry, there's also a huge prize for the winner. Attached is a map leading you to the starting line, be sure to show up before the race starts or you might die.

XOXO,
Vylla

P.S. If you win, I might let you feel my breasts again. <3
-----------------END FLASHBACK------------------

Reaching the rest of the "willing contestants", Mirorin held his hand out, and constructed a lesser Electrical Elemental based off of the horse. Materializing some reins for it, Mirorin held his mount steady and waited for the race to begin.

OoC: Yay for not using Zylar to recruit my character!

OoC: This brings back memories. : D

BiC:

Not again. Everything went blank except for that one thought. What she had been doing before didn't even matter at this point because from this point on her world would be turned upside down. And left. And right. In every direction faceable except for the right way. Meghana barely suppressed an agonized groan.

“Hey! I remember you!” the young girl exclaimed before bounding down a flight of stairs toward the tamer.

Think, she commanded herself. Her eyes surveyed the area, looking for any escape, but the street was crowded to an excruciating degree. Either way, she would not be trapped again. “Excuse me,” she said, shoving a women out of the way. “Pardon me,” she said, elbowing another man in the stomach. “Oh, I'm terribly sorry,” she said, paying barely any notice to the women whose toes she had just stepped on. If I could just get to Mindgleam before that wretch catches up with me...

“Hi! I think you didn't hear me before,” came the forebodingly cheery voice from just behind her.

Meghana spun around, consequently hitting several other people, but she had no time to be polite. “H-how did you get here?”

“Oh, its no problem when you're as short as I am,” she said almost proudly. All Meghana could see was a pair of grotesque sparkling neon pink lips moving. But, she knew what else was there. Forever the image of this child would be etched into her mind. The bouncing curls, the intuitive auburn eyes, the horrible mis-usage of the colors red and pink. Even her diminutive stature seemed frightening in Meghana's memory. Remembering all of this, she was very tempted to put her hands over her ears and begin a litany of lalala's. But this was a villain in her life she needed to face.

“I see,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Fear wouldn't allow any more decibels escape her lips. How absurd to be afraid of a girl, surely still in her young teens. She cleared her throat. “I mean, I see.”

“Yeah, yeah... so, do you still have that pretty dragon of yours?” [/i]Missy[/i] asked with a little too much interest. Even her name was repulsive in Meghana's mind.

The illusionist took evasive action. “No.” There was a pause in which it was obvious an explanation was required. Meghana was far too dubious of her lying abilities to try to provide one so the uncomfortable silence dragged on.

“Oookay,” the annoying girl said, stretching the syllable to impossible lengths. “Well, I know you're lying.”

“Really?” Meghana asked her, not wanting to give her any insight on how right she was.

Missy snorted, amazingly making such a small gesture annoying. “Yeah, I mean. Your dragon is like flying right above us.” She pointed up with one pink finger. The illusionist followed it only to see Mindgleam hovering in the air, barely 20 feet above them.

What horrid timing for it to respond to my distress. Before she could come up with another poor lie, or attempt running away again, a shock jolted her entire frame. This feels familiar...

“Oh, by the way, the race is starting up again,” Missy said, offhandedly. “You'll be participating this year, naturally.”

“No,” came the hazy murmur from the illusionist's numb lips. Her limbs no longer functioned and her body folded over itself as gravity took over. She felt the faint trail of panic from her dragon's mind, but as Missy answered back, the fuzzy corners of her vision closed in on her.

“Yes,” said the high pitched voice, distant, yet still getting the message across. Meghana would be racing.

~ ~ ~

When she came to, Meghana was already prepared for what would happen. She crossed the tent to a set of clothes better suited for riding for extended periods of time. Hard, leather, yet still comfortable. She grabbed the entirely of her hair and wound it together into a bun. Walking out of the tent, she saw the rest of her competition, those whom she would experience another one of these hellish trips with. A smirk played on the corners of her lips.