Menlo Match at Magi

Strolling up with an arrogant look on his face, Dades' bearing screamed confidence. Granted, he'd been a Menlo player for most of his life. He'd been writing his own cards and winning with them too. He was the best of the best from his old home, and was looking to prove himself against 'Big city' company.

Resting on the top of his head was a compact visor, a Menlo Head Device. though with a great knowlege of the sport would recognize it as a very new model, the MCC CU-412.

 

<blockquote><font color=white face=georgia size=1>This was Schism's sort of game. Upon hearing of it, she had grown quite interested in the idea of Menlo, something that had driven her to bug her older clanmate, Yang, to fiddle with the chip she had bought. It wasn't basic in the slightest to begin with and he had tinkered with it so much that she hardly recognized it anymore. In fact, she was rather proud of how it looked now, and it fit her like a glove, when she was within it. Of course it was really Yang's work, but that didn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel a certain amount of arrogance at its exquisite design. So she was a bit over confident. So what? She didn't necessarily expect to win today, she was just going to try it out. Thus far the only matches she had been in had been unofficial - with viruses fair - so she had learned, over time, how to play the game. With or without rules.

So now, here she was, by Magi Lake, ready for a "down and dirty" competition, though the rules weren't as dirty as they could have been. They weren't arena regulations, though, so at least they weren't as stiff as a board. She figured that it would be easier to play the game without having to check every move to make sure that she wans't breaking some stupid rule that had been made up by pendragons three times her age who had never played the game. Shaking her head, the young pendragon continued walking toward her destination - the game field. At the moment, she was making sure the final touches to her clothing were just right, adding accents of silver to the attire by putting in a couple of hooped earrings in each ear. Along with those accessories, she was wearing quite the interesting get-up. There was a simple black "newsboy cap" on her head, tilted slightly to the side, black, classy sunglasses, a silver necklace with the Sunhawk symbol hanging from it, silver hooped bracelets around each wrist, and those were just the accessories. Along with those were, of course, the clothing. A brilliantly red shirt with black around the ends of the sleeves and at the collar, dark olive drab cargo pants, a pair of decent hiking boots, and her backpack.

The backpack had a canteen of water, two sandwiches, a bag of chips, a soda, both of her Menlo chips, and the headgear required to join in the game. This strange train of thoughts that went through her outfit ended as she walked onto the scene of this mini-tournament. Her arms folded across her chest as she looked at Dades, the arrogance on his face an irksome matter. She was tempted to start messing with fire to prove her own competence, but figured it wouldn't be necessary. He would learn she was better than she looked in the playing field. Sunhawk's eyes scanned the rest of the place, resting on Ashavia and giving a slight nod of greeting, then stopped on nothing in particular. Well. They were a talkative bunch. That was Menlo players for ya', though, she supposed.

 

<span style='font-family:Arial'>Sylvertryx Rymapumkaj stalked along the banks of the lake, his heavy, black boots thunking down into the soft ground with each step. As he walked he kicked a chunk of dirt, that progressivly became smaller the more he kicked it. His large gray cargo pants flapped slightly in a small gust of wind that rushed over him from off the lake, and the sun caused the silver buckles running down the arms and the chest of his shirt to glint harshly. He grumbled darkly and shoved his hands into his pockets, if it wasn't for the Menlo match he was heading for, he wouldn't be out here at all. The bright sunlight was making him squint and stare at the ground as he trudged along, and he found the constant chatter and chirp of the birds and bugs to be uncreasingly aggrivating.

He was probably late, but he didn't bother to quicken his pace. Instead, he placed his lucky goggles over his eyes, and slipped on a pair of headphones from out of his pack. The aforementioned dark red bag hung from one shoulder, filled to bursting with supplies. He has packed two cards, one highly modified, and the other a little more common, along with some snacks and the nessasary headgear.

Stryx had gotten into Menlo only recently, but found it to be "his game". The Machina junkie had found a sport he could really take interest in, and soon had been building and modifying his own chips. This would be his first large battle, all of his previous matches had been fought against his friends.

Finally he came upon the other player, sitting on the ground in a loose group. He lookde them over through the red-tinted glass of his eyewear, trying to quickly sum up his opponents. To his eyes the other 'dragons seemed fairly normal, but then again, it was hard to tell a player's prowess for simply looking at them. There was one though, a small male that was practically oozing arrogance. Stryx sighed and shook his head, approaching closer.

<span style='color:red'>"Hey."</span> he said simply, dropping down onto the soft grass.</span>

 

Dade drew himself up and walked quickly over to slouch into one of the seats. He was impressed, no one in the group gathered seemed overly nervous. That meant the quality of the game would be good, the harder he had to fight to win, the better the game was. There was no gratification in an easy fight. He settled his visor down over his eyes, tweaking the adjustments and raising it’s status display: ‘pending hookup’ flashed before his eyes in the red plastic. He slid three of his hundred-odd cards from his pocket. All of his suits were high defense, but the three he had brought with were souped-up, modifications all his own. He was an expert at the game due to one thing; he knew it inside and out. The cards on the edge of the table before him were his own creations. The first was about Defense and power; hit hard and don’t take hits. The second was his ‘lighting Suit’, all about Speed and Accuracy. The final one he’d carried with was the one he intended to use now that he’d seen his competition, Geared for Power, Defense, and Speed in balance. It was his most well rounded suit, and seeing as none here seemed obviously likely to favor any one design seemed like his best option.

 

<blockquote><font color=white face=georgia size=1><font color=gray>out of character</font>

That's alright, Lautir, I understand. I apologize for being a bit slow, didn't have time between work and sleep yesterday to get the reply up. -murmurs-

<font color=gray>in character</font>

Schism watched each new competitor as they approached. As far as she was concerned, this was a relatively friendly match. There would be no animosity if she didn't win and there would be no sneers if she did. Maybe she should have been a bit nicer from the start, then, but she hadn't even said hello. Eh, well, it really wasn't in her nature to do that anyway. Not unless she was approaching someone for a specific reason. The tribeswoman would freely admit that she was a strange one and no one had ever contested it, because it was true. Yet it would seem there were others more friendly than she (which wasn't a hard feat at all). One of the males who approached actually said something, causing Sunhawk to give a slight smile and nod in his direction, her equiviliant of returning the "hey". Though she was tempted to say something about that not really being an appropriate word for greetings, but it would have been a jest that she doubted anyone would understand. So uptight, they seemed to be. Then again, she probably looked about the same.

The female licked her lips in anticipation, nodding once more to the other pendragon who approached with greetings, again refraining from some witty comment. Usually she wouldn't have held back, but today she felt a strange restraint in her actions. A quiet serenity that rarely came, but was dangerous when it did. Not that she was going to flip out and kill people, it merely meant that she was in a strange mood, and was likely to be working faster for it. Dangerous for those in a match against her. Though that was a flattering opinion that she alone held. Of course Yin and Yang avoided her whenever she was in one of those moods as she tended to do things like sabotage - temporarily - the work of her older "brother" and would often herd Yin's animals away from where they were supposed to be. Once she had even let Tangaj free. That certainly hadn't made her Sunhawk sister happy, though they had laughed, afterwards, at the twitterpatted little flitter who ended up being more docile for the temporary escape. She had been watching the magenta bird the entire time, so he was perfectly safe, but it had temporarily infuriated her animal loving friend, none the less.

Her thoughts turned away from this, however, as an older pendragon came out and gave them directions on what was going to happen. So that was how they were going to play, ey? Arena style rules, she assumed, which meant that she wouldn't need the virus blocker that was snuggly fit into her robot. There was nothing against having extra precautions, of course, and as long as she didn't give a virus, she didn't think anyone had problems with her having a blocker installed. It wasn't anything offensive or even noticable, after all. Pulling out her headgear, the young tribeswoman sat next to Lyra, giving a slight smile in the direction of the pendragon sitting near to her, before turning her attention back to the upcoming match. Butterflies were beginning in her stomach, though she stifled them as fast as possible. No reason to get overly excited, after all. It wasn't nervousness. Just exhiliration. This was going to be fun. A learning experience, whether she won or lost, that was for sure.

Pulling her headgear on, the pendragon grabbed her card and placed it in the appropriate slot. There was a faint click in her head. The gear was modified to specifically settle around her head and no one else's, so there was a snug fit. Yang hadn't done anything except make it as good as the expensive ones and made it a custom, making sure that the colors were those of the Sunhawks, with the emblem emblazed on the front, though no one besides her would recognize it, she figured. Unless they were aware of the Tribes, which she sincerely doubted. So few were. Then, a beep, followed by statistics of her suit, and, in the corner, a flashing red light. Pending Hookup.

Let the games begin.

 

<span style='font-family:Arial'>Stryx unslung the bag from around his shoulders, settling it in his lap. From inside it he produced his headgear. It had originally been a fairly basic model, but between him and his friend Twitch they had upgraded it enough that it was nearly as good as the top of the line models. His chips were the same way, one of them was fairly basic, a well rounded out unit that could take a beating and keep on moving, as well as dish it out, with s slight focus towards power and defense. His second chip was far more specialized, lightning fast, with high accuracy and reliability. Second to that was fronima use and defense. In his mind, they can't hit you if you're moving to fast to get a lock on. He reluctantly peeled his goggles off his face and let them fall down around his neck.

That was the only downside of Menlo the Stryx; that he was unable to keep the lucky eyewear on, but it was one he was willing to live with. Before setting the headgear over his eyes, he gave it a quick once over, making sure the high end virus blocker he had installed was functional and properly set into it's slot. It wasn't that he didn't trust his opponents... well, actually he didn't, but it was mostly a precaution, in case one of the fellow players cheated.

He took a deep breathe and settled the form-fitted helmet-like device over his head. His lips were dry and his stomach fluttering as a small screen came up, requesting a chip. He inserted his favored chip, and awaited the pending hook-up notice to appear on his screen. He felt slightly light headed, from a heady combination of fear and excitment. He wriggled around, finding a more comfortable position, the last thing he wanted was to leave the match and be stiff and cramped. </span>

 

Before hookup, Dade loaded his card into it’s slot. The words <span style='color:yellow'>‘Suit Data Loaded’</span> flashed for a moment, followed by a quick review of the status of the suit.

The Suit itself was Quadrupial, with a low-slung wolfish skull built of virtual steel. The broad, tiger-like shoulders of the suit laced with Frontima run hydraulics to enhance the strength of the suit's wearer, and the speed. the hindquarters of the suit were an artwork, designed with a setup that would permit the suit to operate at 50% capacity in a Bipedal mode for situations that required it.
The fangs in the metal skill were impressive, and deadly. The secondary use of Frontima this suit had was a magically based electronic "poison" of sorts. It wasn't a virus by any definition, as it acted as a poison would in a Pendragon body, decaying the wires and soders that were the muscle and sinew of the virtual suits. A section of the suit hit with the bit from this suits' jaw would slowly begin to break down, the Machina and metal decaying until destroyed, a process that took several minuets but was ultimately very effective.
The next weapon of the suit was as much a weapon as a defense. The shoulders, hindquarters, back, spine, chest, stomach, and cheeks where lined with blades that were welded to the virtual metal, and stood up 3 inches from the body of the suit. Extremely effective in deterring physical attacks, as each strike would inflict damage to the attackers suit, too.
Frontima attacks would hopefully be dealt with by the Frontima and steel armor plating that coated the outside of the suit between the steel blades.
The tail weapon was a simple blade, a savage attachment to the lightning fast appendage that was long enough to reach anything held in the suit's jaws. The blade was wired to be able to fire a massive blast of Machina energy that would paralyze a suit's Machina operation for about 10 seconds.
The final weapon was the claws on all four of the suits paws, designed to rip and tear through the metal of other suits while the Machina Poison and Tail Machina Attacks kept the suits from dodging their savagery.

Once the data review had happened, the message <span style='color:yellow'>’Pending Hookup’</span> returned. Then <span style='color:yellow'>’Network Connected’</span> was before his eyes, and the ‘Dragon leading the game wished them well, and flipped the switch. <span style='color:yellow'>’Joining Game’</span> flashed and went dark before his eyes, then faded into a fuzzy gray while the system pulled him into It’s depths.

The suit itself was familiar. More familiar than his own infrequently used Quadruped form. He clenched and unclenched the suit’s jaws, testing the ‘Poison Gland’, switched the tail and let it spark a bit, then flexed the claws and leapt at the side of the nearest building. He effortlessly climbed the side, reveling in a world where he was as powerful as anyone else, and not just Little-bitty Dade, the Youngest of the Sjoahuajs clan. From his high perch, he could easily hear the attack on a building nearby. It seemed as if someone was testing their suit… And then he saw the suit, attacking the side of a building… and he stalked towards it, staying alert for any movement around him.

 

<blockquote><font color=white face=georgia size=1><font color=gray>out of character</font>

Sorry about the delay. I didn't forget about you, but I was busy all weekend. And yesterday. xx;

<font color=gray>in character</font>

The Sunhawk leaned back more comfortably, mentally going over the pros and cons of the suit she was using. It was built for speed and power, with defense being the lowest. She trusted her own abilities to keep her safe and out of harm's way. If that didn't work, then the pendragon would resort to desperate maneuvers. Dodging and attacking, those were the two ways that this suit was made. Speed was the highest, surprisingly, and it made her quite the little acrobat when she was in the virtual world, a talent that was at least partially true in the real world as well. Her heart beat normally against her chest. Not much frightened or excited her too much and the tribeswoman and today was no exception.

The female's suit was made in the colors of the Sunhawks, just as her helmet in the real world had been, though the hues had been dulled so that they weren't painfully obvious when mixed with the stark colors of the world that usually appeared. Then again, it also had a function that she could flip on at will, turning the suit into one that was chameleon- like in its qualities, blending in. Usually she didn't, though, as there was no reason, and it wasted a lot of power in her suit that could be used for other reasons. Stealth was already on her side, anyway, as she had practiced extensively in this particular Menlo suit so that she could move through the landscape without making much noise - approaching her enemies with practiced care.

The material of the suit was interesting, being metallic, but also impressively flexible, moving with her body. A lot of its functions were secret and she preferred not to even think about them, in case there was a very good mind reader nearby. Highly unlikely, of course, but one could never be too careful. The only one that was visible was the scythelike tail that curved behind her and the thick claws that studded the ends of her paws. Other than that, it was rather basic looking, fitting her form perfectly, with no added room or weight to bog her down. The armor was thick enough to protect, but not made to be too protective.

Her thoughts tapered off into nothing as another set of words flashed across her eyes. Network Connected it said, at which point she felt that familiar feeling of moving from one world to the next. She ended up appearing on top of a building, crouched so that her arms were spread across her knees, the night vision that was automatically on giving everything a bright green appearance. Immediately, she muttered something to herself, turning that off, as there was no need for it. Yet, that was. She knew of game boards that ended up changing the atmosphere and time of day, which was why that was installed. Besides the fact that there were some boards that started out that way.

Silently, she stalked to the end of the building, peering over it at the ground and seeing no one. Eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked from side to side, a faint click echoing in her mind as her vision intensified, looking at farther distances. There were a couple of vague specks off in the distance, but no one else that she could see. The siren hadn't sounded yet, so there was still time for her to get over there. The Sunhawk wasn't about to waste her energy on a pair of warriors, though, because they were probably going to fight each other, anyway, with one, ultimately, being defeated. Either that or she could go over there later. Right now, she was contended to just move over a couple of buildings, edging slightly closer, but not that much. Watching.

 

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>Sorry for the wait, feeling uber uncreative/suffering writers block</td></tr></table>


<span style='font-family:Arial'>Sylverstryx always felt a little strange as he entered the virtual world, his mind lagging behind as it adjusted tot eh new environment. He looked at his right hand, his tough, yet surprisingly flexible armor covering his arm. The matte, charcoal gray and black material of his suit seemed to absrob light, cutting down on any reflection that might give away his position. There were small armored plated running along his back, arms and legs, as well as chest and stomach plates, but for the most part he was unprotected. He was counting on avoiding being hit at all, the speed and agility of his suit coming into play to protect him.

The armor had a long line of spines traveling down between his shoulder blades, along his spine and down to the end of the whip-like tail. Currently they lay nearly flat against the rest of his suit, but at a moments notice they could stanf up on end, providing a valuable defense against an opponents claws or tail blades. His own tail blades, three of them to be exact, where long and sickle shaped, curving backtowards his body, perfect for hooking into other player's suits and doing some heafty damage. The claws of his suit were long and sharp, but retractable, and the fingers where dexterous and strong, aiding his climbing and stealth.

He tested them out by executing a small jump onto the side of the nearest building. The hands and feet of his suit stuck to the walls like a gecko, claws sliding silently out of their sheaths to aid him as he made his way towards the roof top. He didn't even bother to consider the more powerful capabilities of his suit; convinced he didn't need to expose them at this time, just incase another player happened to have spotted him. He moved silently, mentally observing the movement of his suit, checking for any problems in the chip. By the time he reached the summit of his climb, he was pleased to know that everything was working correctly.

Stryx was excited, anxious to begin. His first official menlo match was about to get underway. He didn't expect to come out the victor, but he did plan on enjoying himself to the fullest extent. But then again, this was menlo, and there were few things that the young male loved to do more. The spines along his back shuffled noislessly, a reflection of his inner anticipation. He crouched near the edge of the building, waiting for the match to begin... </span>

 

Having seen both the Maroon and the silver glimmer from his rooftop perch, In addition to the one who was gliding up on the buildings like he was. With care to be quiet, Dade arranged himself just inside the door of an access stairwell. From here, he could see all 3 of his possible targets and, though they might see him, had only a frontal attack path. The jaws of the savage suit were parted slightly, prepared to strike like a cobra. The tail was poised, ready to strike like a scorpion. The claws gleamed softly, digging into the floor below him for traction, ready to rip into the first foe like a hot knife through butter.

HeÂ’d been playing Menlo since he was ten, and knew his own abilities. These fighters are seemed new, as several were making somewhat armature mistakes. Finding them wasnÂ’t a problem, though he didnÂ’t know how good their suits would beÂ…