2283/Mojo's Arcade Legend: Twisted Treeline

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Mojo's Arcade Legend: Twisted Treeline
Date of Scene: 30 June 2020
Location: Twisted Treeline
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Maria Hill, Slade Wilson, Cecily Winters, Rose Wilson, Betsy Braddock, Illyana Rasputina

Maria Hill has posed:
"HELLO SUMMONERS!" The cheery announcers voice echoes across Twisted Treeline.

"You may find yourself a little confused, but I assure you, this will be fun for all! Especially ME!"

The 'summoners' awaken around a large, glowing mound of crystals in the middle of a flat, cobblestone area. Nearby is a stone turret, facing two (currently closed with gates) openings in a tall stone wall; between the turret and the gates is a single smaller glowing crystal. Behind the summoners is a mountainous cliff, blocking them into the cobblestoned area.

"The rules are simple! Knock down your opponents turrents. Destroy their inhibitors. Capture their base. Oh, and DON'T DIE, because I haven't quite worked out this whole RESPAWN thing quite yet." There's some grumbling from the announcer. "Also, Arcade wouldn't let me." That's a bit whiny.



A seperate, annoyed voice takes over. "For those of you UNAWARE of the GAME, the GAME is the LEAGUE. Of. LEGENDS. I want to see if you are worthy champions, of course. But in more detail: every so often, your enemies base will release a spawn of minions who will make their way down the lanes to damage your towers and eventually your base. At the same time, your base will do the same for against the enemy. Sadly, these minions are merely constructs. My 'dear friend' wouldn't allow me to bring in additional fools to serve in that role. Please kill them, and your enemies, with great relish."

Arcade hmms. "Ah yes. The enemy. Another team just like you... CHANGED. It's really what Mojo is best at. They'll be trying to destroy your towers and claim your base as well, so pip pip. Murder them first. You know the drill."

Mojo's voice cuts back in. "...I didn't agree to this murdering thing, Arcade. It's really no fun if all our new friends die."

"That is PRECISELY what makes it fun." Arcade chuckles.

There is silence, but the announcers line stays open.

Then. "If you say so," Mojo sulks. "I feel the ratings on this will not be so great with so much murder." Oh. Did we mention that Mojo is televising this? On all channel 6s, across all cities? Because Mojo. "Anyways! The challenge will begin in five minutes! GOOD LUCK, SUMMONERS!"

Then the line goes silent.

Dead silent.

Maria Hill has posed:
Flutter. Flutter.


A giant bug the size of a Volkswagen Beetle waddles angrily from behind the Nexus, fluttering giant purple and pink butterfly wings obnoxiously. It waddles and wobbles obnoxiously. Everything about this creature is obnoxious, from the fluttering wings to the giant maw in a white and cream carapice speckled with sparkles. It's a bizzare marriage of adorable like a unicorn with horrific like a giant, alien bug capable of eating a mere human in a single crunch.

"Whoooo arrree you all, ciittzzeennz?" comes a commanding demand in a chirring buzz from the bug's mouth. "Weee havveee been takennn by A'kade. Don trusstt him. Will take command of this misssioon, azz Dep'tee Di'rektr of SssHieLddd."

Is this... Maria Hill? As an alien space bug?

Slade Wilson has posed:
"What the hell?" Slade Wilson takes stock of his situation as awareness of his current circumstances now reaches him. He feels...off. Kind of like the world's moving faster than he's used to, though in truth it's really just him moving slower. HIs gear is gone. That's annoying. He's got something else instead. Some kind of bulky energy pistol, and what looks like...attachments...for it. Grenades of some kind. And another device he doesn't immediately recognize...some kind of mine, maybe? There's some kind of HUD in this helmet he's wearing, but it's all nonsense...like the HUD is there purely for show and not for functionality. Strange black armor encases him, with an odd ruffle of white fur trim. Doesn't feel very protective, but that will remain to be seen.

All things considered, he studies his weapon more closely now. He's going to have to learn to use it quickly, it sounds like. He really despises playing other peoples' games like this, but for now it seems like going along might get answers more quickly. The red-visored helmet he wears distorts his voice, though not enough to be unrecognizable.

"Any of you have an idea how this is supposed to work?" He speaks of the scenario in general, fuming underneath the mask.

Reference: https://leagueoflegends.fandom.com/wiki/Jhin?file=Jhin_PROJECTSkin.jpg

Cecily Winters has posed:
    Is it one of those days? It's one of those days. If Cecily was the drinking sort, she'd just chalk up the headache and disorientation to a hangover. But no. This is something different. And that voice. THOSE voices. So loud. And nothing seems to smell right. "Hmmmmmmhnn..." she feels the cold cobblestone and presses her palms to it, trying to drag herself up to her knees at least as her vision swims. There feels like there's... more to move than usual.

    "What... where.... what?" she looks at her hands, her fingers more dainty than usual, skin a little more pale. And gold-trimmed white sleeves? But she can still feel the wind on her shoulders. Her head looks down further. Her legs are sheathed in white. And ruffles. So many ruffles. A lightish red skirt? No that's definitely a shade of pink. "...what am I wearing?" she seems vaguely aware of others coming to around her, golden fox ears perked, twitching. At least those feel normal.

    Then her hair, waves of blonde tumbling over her shoulder. Shaky, she gets to her feet, dusting off her skirt on reflex, still taking stock of herself and just how tight her vest is. Bodice? Corset top? She isn't sure. And that big blue bow. She seems to somewhat understand Kog'Maria and stares at the purple-winged butterfly-thing. "...Miss Hill?" she asks, finally standing up straight. A glance over her shoulder, lips pursed, and she stares for a few long moments at her tails.

    "Five... six... seven... stop moving...! Six... eight... nine? Please, please tell me I was up too late playing computer games and watching anime..." Star Guardian Cecily mutters into a double-facepalm.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Not a bit of this makes her comfortable, or happy, or shit....event makes sense. But there she is, with her white hair up in weird spikes from a ponytail and a mask covering her lower face. She's got weapons, but they certainly aren't Rose's usual ones. It could be worse, honestly, she's wearing what seems like normalish clothes, with beat up bits of armor covering knees and chest.

"I suspect....the usual way. We kill everyone and destroy everything."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy Braddock stills shortly after she stirs, and purple eyes will go wide at the sound of the voice. "Mojo." The single name is whispered, choking on it as the telepath pales. Her eyes will go dark, as her pupils widen in those pretty violet irises. She looks like a stiff wind could blow her over, as she stares at the glowing crystal in order to look at nothing, and no one, else.

Purple hair is bound up, with tendrils escaping here and there. She's in a sleeveless white tunic that has a wide belt cinching it at her waist. There are oddly fingerless gloves that extend up past her elbow,and purple legging tight trousers that disappear into knee high purple boots edged in gold. There is a purple scarf tethered to her left shoulder, to drape down along her back, that Betsy doesn't understand at all. She's just focusing on breathing for a moment. Then, almost without thought there is a blaze of light in her hand. There's a psi-sword, because the ninja is not screwing around. "I'm going to kill him, this time." It's nearly a growl.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
A splash of lo-fi violet ripples out from the Nexus.

Where was once nothing, now someone.

Illyana Rasputina, demon queen of Limbo, finds herself floating a foot off the ground. Nothing so unusual there. But until the inner gyroscope of her reeling senses calm, besieged by too many impressions, she needs a moment. Maybe two, taking immediate stock of the unnaturally revealing wrap-dress and h--

"Ohuet?!" requires no translation considering it comes in a disturbingly low volume rife with promise.

Reaching for open space with the scuttling bug-woman showing open gives exactly one moment before three amethyst spheres whip around her in a defensive trio, stacking themselves up like the world's most ridiculous luminescent snowman.

Three snowman spheres and no comfortably glowing sword, which is an understatement of irritation for her. "Illyana," she replies; it's an introduction or a pronouncement, a declaration not without confidence. "She is right." A nod to Rose. "This is what I live for." She tilts her head back, curling, ridged pewter horns spiralling up into a deadly point around an impressive violet jewel are an uncomfortable throwback to her demonic form. A look down: yes, her feet are still there. "Mojo would do well to remember how it worked out last time." That smile is sharp, lovely, pitiless.

Reference: https://ddragon.leagueoflegends.com/cdn/img/champion/splash/Syndra_0.jpg

Maria Hill has posed:
Kog'Maria's glittering, multi-faceted eyes would narrow, except bugs don't quite work that way. Still, her tone is clear even as she shirrs, "Dep'ty DI REKT R," she corrects Cecily. There's a bob of the carapice as she looks over the kitsune. "Trrraineee."

She waddles around awkwardly, clearly trying to get used to her new form. Or, perhaps, the new form simply only waddles awkwardly. She growls lightly, then coughs. A giant glowing green ball of sputum flies outwards and slams into the closed gate, hissing with acidic burn.

The bug tilts her head. Not an ICER, but it'll do.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade's eye narrows behind his mask, as he certainly recognizes at least ONE of the assembled. But for now, he plays it close to the chest as far as any signs of recognition. He fires the pistol towards the gates, then studies the weapon again, an indicator on the side catching his attention.

"Four shots? What idiot designed this?" It'd be one thing if the gate had blown wide open, but nope...no real effect. He's mildly glad the counter ticks back up to a full "four" after a bit of fiddling with the weapon. He'd throw it away, but he doesn't have any viable replacement yet. And the one he'd likely prefer looks like it's not very steal-able. Plus fratricide might not be the best option right now.

"Who or what is Mojo? Because you're welcome to kill him but I'm getting my pound of flesh first." The glowing visor turns towards Bugria Hill, and cants curiously, "Is she trying to say "Deputy Director?""

Cecily Winters has posed:
    "Pink... why are they pink..." Cecily has finally managed to stock of her tails. And blinks again at Kog'Maria when she's corrected. "Yes, of course..." she says softly, trying not to giggle at the... well, spectacle of the little alien bug. Besides, she has more important things to worry about, like her modesty. "...an extra two inches is all I'd ask..." she tugs on her skirt, ears drooping against her hair some. A curious little creature, a tiny pink and white three-tailed fox flits around her now that she's awake, hovering upside-down in an orb of blue energy, blinking at her. "Mrrrrp?" <3

    "Hmm? GAH!" Cecily jerks back. Upwards. Surprised. She's hovering two feet off of the ground now, tails fanned out behind her, feet trailing ribbons of pink light. The little fox chirrups at her again and Cecily's shoulders droop. She watches the others testing out their weapons, and she finds she's lacking anything physial. She wouldn't even be able to slide a combat knife between the snugness of the leggings either. So she tries something else. And her hands erupt in ... well, it's not quite pink. It's golden starfire.

    "I've got this at least, still.... so.. new friends... who are we killing now?" she asks, conjuring up a trio of burning flames to wreathe her head.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"No idea." Rose replies, glancing in Slade's direction, oh, there's no chance that she doesn't recognize him. But much like him, she's not calling it out. Not yet. Then she turns her attention back to the gate, frowning at it as she thinks about it. And what is going to be on the other side.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy will look away from the glowing nexus, eyes blazing in her pale face. The supermodel isn't ... much different than she normally feels, other than the clothing that is certainly not her own. "Mojo is a cretin, who likes bringing people to his own little dimension to torment them for his amusement. He's a consummate coward." Her chin lifts. She refuses to remain afraid. She will face this head on. Her eyes are her own now, no longer devices of Mojo's creation.

Shoulders pull back, as she lets a psi dagger form in her off hand. "If you want us to do battle, you need to open the gates!" She will yell out. "His idea of fun is to make you play his game. Our goal has to be to win, and find him."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Ilsyndra -- Illysyndra? Syndrana? -- stalks across the field behind the gate, and by stalk, moves at a respectable floating pace. Grounding herself to actually walk seems something of a hopeless task as the amethyst snowman disassembles itself into component spheroid. Swirling, dark matter limned in ultraviolet mana pirouettes around her wherever she goes, and she flings her wrist out to send one of the balls competently sailing and smashing into the ground. Another proceeds to plop itself into the physical wall, half-in, half-out, lingering there until someone or something is fool enough to come into contact.

"Deputy Director," she sounds out the title of the Kog'Maria, and nods. "Mojo is an alien obsessed with television and films."

Squeezing her fingers shut compresses the ball, compressing it like a giant stress-relief object. She's swift to execute a few more gestures that look suspiciously like bumping or setting a volleyball, except with something created from raw magical energy. You know, like a -totally- normal person does.

She casually spikes the blackened shadow-orb at the gate to see what happens. Explosion or melting into blackberry jam, either is optional. To the quartet unfamiliar, she adds, "A large, yellow slug on mechanical spider legs. I doubt to see him here. His employees are a little more creative and exciting."

Maria Hill has posed:
Then, in a quiet 'announcement', Slade and his charmingly murderous daughter both hear Arcade's voice at their ear: "Hello hello Wilson the elder and younger! How lovely to see such a charming pair of assassins on my gaming floor. I do enjoy mixing up my games, you see; there should be another team out there to fight you. Alas... it's only the six of you in this little Nexus here, and a big, easy to hide in forest beyond. A real assassins delight, this map is. It would be ever so APPROPRIATE for you to take care of your little goodie goodie friends, including these SHIELD agents, and in return, you'll be released good as new, no harm, no foul. What do you say?"

Slade is silent a moment, then quietly enough to only be heard by the psychotic gamemaster. "You're going to owe me a lot more than freedom when I'm done here, Arcade. My time is valuable...but that's a discussion we'll have when this is done."

Rose follows suit. "I'd prefer better than new... but whatever. Sure. Since we're here, might as well."

"Most excellent my murderous, conniving chums. I'm sure we can make whatever arrangements you wish... assuming you, of course... win." Arcade's commentary blinks out with finality. But courtesy of Arcade, a brief description of all of Jhin's abilities suddenly fills Slade's HUD.

The conversation is further drowned out by the loud blinking sound, as above the Nexus, a magically glowing set of numbers pops up.






On the 1, the gates crank open, revealing a deep, thick forest with two very thin pathways disappearing into the dense underbrush.

GLHF noobs! blinks for a second before disappearing.

Maria Hill has posed:
Kog'Maria waddles towards the northernmost gate. 'Top', in the gaming parlance, it would be. She tentatively hocks another wad of acidic spittle. "Finnd otherrr gattte?" she queries towards the others. She nods to Illyana and Cecily. "Willll ttaaake thisss patth. Traaainee wittth mee. Otheerss lowerr paath. Twwoo staayyy annnd guarrrd cryyystalll." She's a giant bug with butterfly wings, and her voice may sound funny, but her tone is one used to giving orders and having them obeyed.

Slade Wilson has posed:
"Roger that. Figure this fully assembled rifle might have enough range I might be able to throw some support your way from the base." Slade replies to Maria's orders, looking over towards Rose and pointing, "You. You're on guard duty with me." Yesirree, just a pair of fellow victim-contestants, volunteering to guard the base. Nothing to see here. Nothing unusual going on. Slade continues to study his primary weapon, seeing if he can figure out any additional capabilities, or at least that's what it looks like.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    The now nine-tailed fox seems to still be getting her bearings. Flying is a new trick and she's tentatively practicing how to start and stop, slow and accelerate. The little fox-like creature seems to be joyous and follows her every move, spiraling around her legs and weaving through her tails with a happy chirrup. "Well at least one of us is pleased to be here..." she reaches out, ruffling the magical little creature with her hand, careful around the ears. The countdown starts and her own ears go flat, and she zips over towards Kog'Maria.

    "Yes ma'am," she straightens up, the tip of one toe almost on the ground as she hovers in place, tails fanning out behind her. She glances out into the woods, lips pursed, letting some of that golden flame spiral around her arm. "You know much more about our adversaries than I do, and you know my skillset. I've got your six, yes? Lead on," Cecily says with a terse nod.

Rose Wilson has posed:
When she gets pointed to, and voluntold for guard duty, Rose snaps a rather smart salute. Like, maybe she's done this before. Or copied someone else who has done it before quite a bit.

"I can certainly do that." She observes, falling back to stay by the base to keep 'guard'. Totally innocently.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy will cast a mildly suspicious look at the two who so easily subside to guard duty, after one of them just spoke aggressively about getting a pound of flesh. Violet eyes will study them, then the base, before she moves towards the other gate with a determined stride.

There's a mild hitch in her stride, as she goes to let her telepathy free, only to feel like it's weighted down, like she can't reach out very far with it. She will growl at the limitation. This is going to make linking the team impossible. That could have been handy.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Trotting down the garden path, to Baba's house they most definitely do not go. Ilsyndra sets out in that ludicrous attire, a dress designed almost solely to frame her thighs for the delight of the viewing audience. Or her decolletage. Somehow she rolls with it much better than she should, just as she adjusts to the peculiarities of their surroundings well enough. Violet spheres tossed on the ground or at the gate remain as they are, another trio popping into existence to wheel around her, adoring planets worshipful of their crowned sun.

"Staggered formation," she tells Fiortsy on approach. Shadows slither and weave past her, filaments caught in her fingertips as she weaves them together. Leaving her back open isn't precisely a thing, considering two of the poised spheres deliberately position themselves in spiralling orbits there. "Go mow down whatever makes you happy, da?"

Maria Hill has posed:
The bumbling form of Kog'Maria trundles and galumphs down the dirt pathway into the dark forest, making her way past trees and sleepy stone turrets as she leads her trainee. Does she have any idea what she's up against? No. But Marines lead the way, for one, and for another, she knows enough about Arcade's idiocy to have come to the frustrated conclusion the only way out was playing the game long enough to beat the rules.

Every so often she coughs up another ball of sputum, which aggravates her at first, but soon she grows accustomed to it. As they reach another turret, it begins to fire at her and Cecily once they get within range.

"Wee ssshoulddd dessstroyy itt?" she says, though with a lilt of question. She wiggles her thorax a bit, working up a large wad of phlegm, which she spews on the tower. The stone hisses, but the tower keeps plinking at them.

Slade Wilson has posed:
Slade watches the quartet make their ways down the path, right until they're almost out of sight. And right as they reach that cusp, he conveys the plan to Rose. Follow the Fox and the Bug. Stick to the shadows. Move quietly and wait for your moment to strike. All conveyed with a few relatively simple hand gestures. And that done, Slade steps away from the base, melting into the shadows of the Jungle and starting to move behind where Betsy and Illyana are, putting his well-honed commando skills to good use to find a decent spot to set up his nest, but once noted he doesn't settle in, instead moving a bit further out, dropping one of his "mines" on the road, and the other offset, between the first mine and where he'll be hiding.

And once he's back, hidden amongst the trees and brush, he takes aim, and he fires...four shots...unfortunately a lot less "rapid fire" than he would like...the limitations of the game aren't removed for this betrayal, but two bolts of energy scream towards Betsy's back, then two more towards Illyana's. And then he sets to reloading while he watches their reactions.

Cecily Winters has posed:
    It's an interesting contrast, the trundling bug creature being followed by the graceful fox creature(s). She floats along at a respectful distance, accelerating now and again to investigate something or other. Here or there. The silent towers under their control earn a brief buzzing around, as if she's taking stock of their armament. "Magic... well, to some extent..." she muses aloud, her 'familiar' chirruping something that might be an affirmitive?

    At least in flight, low as she's going, she can avoid the caustic puddles on the ground that Kog'Maria is leaving in her wake. Cecilahri is thankful to at least be in a form similar to her natural one, with abilities that mirror her own. A strange blessing to be sure. The open area before the hostile tower gives her a moment of pause, and then she frowns at the angry bolts being hurled towards her and the Deputy Director.

    "It seems to block the only way forward," she nods to her companion, dashing forward, bright spheres of orange, pink, and blue spiraling down her arms, concussive bolts of foxfire exploding against the stones in a shower of sparkles and a burst of colorful flame. She finds any further fire needs a moment to replenish, and she alignts on her heels and toes, dancing her way back out of range with a grace and ease that leaves her with a surprised look on her face. "...Deputy Director, should I take up dancing as a hobby?" she asks, blinking at Kog'Maria.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
There's a moment where that spot between her shoulderblades itches. "Be alert." She will relay to Illy-ndra. She will lift her psi-sword, and suddenly she's dashing forward as if she's pulled that way, feet knowing what to do as if on auto pilot.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Sadly, the sudden lunge forward doesn't fully get her out of danger, her left shoulder taking a hit and spinning her sideways. It seems that itch between her shoulders was not in vain. "I don't think the guards are actually guarding anything but their own butts."

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Well, those spheres to act for some degree of shielding might serve advantageously against the average person taking a shot at her. They do next to naught when it comes to a skilled sniper working against their timing, for all their size occluding her body.

The third and fourth bolts from the hand cannon do a fairly lovely job of penetrating whatever protections Illyana had, and the fourth one staggers her to... floating, basically, pitching forward and shedding a stream of pixellated dust in her wake. If she isn't obliterated entirely from the match altogether, which is perfectly plausible.

Not more than a growl escapes her lips. The violet balls plunge into the leaves in retort, almost silent in passing, a fanned swath of energy hurled roughly assassinward. This assumes she hasn't been wiped off the board.

Maria Hill has posed:
Oblivious, largely, to their teammates' peril, Kog'Maria and Cecily continue to damage the tower, occasionally taking hits from it but largely staying out of the way as Maria continues to vomit all over the magical stone.

The tower cracks and crumbles. There is no real acknowledgement from the bug-like Deputy Director as she begins to continue her trundling. However... she is suspicious, as no one has popped out of the woods yet on the other side to deal them any trouble.

"Issss sssuposssed to bee enemiess?

Maria Hill has posed:
Mojo's voice comes over the announcers channel. "Noooo! You're doing it all wrong! You can't do that! Think of the viewers--" There's a sudden pause. "Wait. This channel is getting even MORE RATINGS! The most right now of all the channels I'm broadcasting on! YES! Scratch that! I LOVE BETRAYAL! Keep it up! More backstabbing! Think of the Ratings! The drama! The angst! THE EYEBALLS!"

Cecily Winters has posed:
    The sounds of fighting and fire escape even Cecily's sharp ears, especially with the sounds of horking and flame and a tower coming down. She takes a moment to smooth out her skirt and rub her side. The hits she'd sustained don't show up on her or her clothes but the ache is still there. "Yes, weren't there supposed to be minions? Or something of the sort?"

    Unruffled, Cecily glances around at the trees again as things go quiet at Top. Her little familiar offers an upside-down shrug, as it probably doesn't know either. And is just part of the costume anyway. "Thank you, little one," she says gently and stays closer to Kog'Maria now.

    "For that matter, wouldn't we have minions too?" she looks over her shoulder, tails parting to give her the sight she needs on the lane behind her. Then her ears lay flat again, "...Deputy Director... betrayal and backstabbing?"