I gave that mashup an entire extra week. Not ONE of you voted. Why? I am really kinda upset about this, because I put a lot of work into that one and got nothing in return.
I can’t even call this fight, and I don’t plan on doing another Midweek Mashup unless you guys give me a reason to.
Alright. Post in the comments if you’ve got something to say, like suggestions for a different segment.
Later. -GG
Alright, this week, we’re gunna make people choose serious sides… let there be Snake Versus Batman!
Ok, so here’s the stipulations.
Batman is the one from Arkham Asylum. Solid Snake has his gear from Smash Bros. Brawl. No batjet, no final smash helicopter.
The Deus Ex Machina brand corporate arctic warehouse. Surrounded by guards, both competitors find themselves on the shore, needing one thing: a Deus Ex Machina brand Entry Keycard. Now, the guards have them, and they only need one. However, they cannot move to the other side of the complex to simply follow their competitor into the complex.
In short, they both need to get a key and gain entrance to the complex, where Liquid Joker and Harley Ocelot have taken Big Gordon hostage.
Anyway, once inside, a video will instruct them that another person is coming, and that Big Gordon will be shot if one of them isn’t unconscious in one hour.
So, the person you think would break in fastest gets prep time. How long? Until the other breaks in as well.
Then, given the arsenals I’ve listed, who will win? It’s up to you!
The fans were deafening, the hum of speakers charged the air around the opposing stages… it was about to begin… the most metal concert in the history of the world, sponsored by Deus Ex Machina brand Goblin Juice (It’s Goblin-riffic).
Dethklok strolled out toward the fans, faces white, and without even acknowledging the crowd, began to shred the minds of their enamored fans. The violent, brilliant music ripped the air apart, and their opponents were nowhere to be seen. The DMC fans called to their masters, yelling “Krauser-sama! Camus! Jagi-sama! Where are you?!”
They watched from the shadows.
Soichi Negishi was sweating bullets, the legendary guitar in his hands calling for blood. “No way… there’s to many people… and it’s Dethklok! The biggest band in the world!” He swallowed hard and turned to flee, and found himself face to face with his manager. One glare and a shove was all it took, and the concert battle began.
Dethklok continued to tear the stadium apart, their fans becoming even more worked up. One of the Dethklok supporters made just one comment, just an off-hand remark about how Krauser was too afraid to face Nathan Explosion…
The fight erupted.
Fans bashed in faces, fists met bone and blood, and bodies began falling. However, without the music to fire them up, the DMC fans were quickly being pushed back.
It was then that a rumble shook the DMC stage. A coffin burst from the floorboards of the right side of the stage, and out walked Jagi, ready to play. Another coffin burst through the stage in the middle of the back, and out came Camus, screaming and drumming at air, ready to tear it all apart.
The third… didn’t go as planned. The third coffin sprung through the stage… and kept going afterwards. It sailed through the air, and came crashing down in the middle of the brawling fans. The crowd retreated, and even Dethklok sopped between songs to observe.
Out from the coffin, covered in the blood of Dethklok fans as well as his own, burt Krauser, who screamed at the top of his lungs, “I AM THE DEMON KING!!!”
Fans brought him a chord, plugged him in in the middle of the crowd, and the music resumed, as did the fight. This time, however, it wasn’t the same. The Detroit Metal City fans surged with fresh energy and the taste of blood, and raved the Dethklok fans, pushing towards the stage.
The manager made his move, adjusting his glasses. “Not yet, young band. My boys need this concert… and that guitar.” With that, he pressed a button on his phone, signaling the release of the captured beast caged beneath the pit. However, he wasn’t the only manager who had decided to strike, as a beer bottle crashed over Dethklok’s Manager’s head. There stood the manager of DMC.
The two stared each other down, wordless, sharing a deep understanding of the other’s tactics… and began to make out like crazy. Yep. That’s the power of Dethklok AND DMC.
However, even as the two of them lost interest in the world, the chimera rose from the depths, tearing through DMC fans and Dethklok fans alike.
This did not phase Dethklok.
DMC stared at the forty foot tall half-lion, half-goat amalgamation with a king Cobra’s head for a tail, and Negishi, for a brief moment, feared the creature. Then he remembered who he really was. Johannes Krauser II.
The beast roared mightily at Krauser, lunging for a meal, and Krauser’s guitar cried out in madness as he swung, clubbing the beast across the nose. The chimera stumbled towards the DMC stage, turning back on Krauser as the Cobra tail struck as Jagi. Jagi sidestepped, and whistled to Camus. He looked up, and saw the snake… a bigger version of the ones he already had. It would be his.
In seconds, Camus had the Cobra by the fangs, head-butting it into submission as Jagi scaled the beast, searing it with his flaming breath. It howled in pain and the two front heads lunged again for Krauser, and thanks to a massive effort by tons of die-hard fans, was slowed, forced to look him in the eyes as the fans held the flaming beast back. Krauser looked into its eyes and then reared back, spitting into one of the lion’s eyes. It howled, looking at its meal… no, at Krauser… its new master, and knelt. Krauser climbed atop his new steed, still ablaze, and Dethklok and its fans could no longer focus.
As the flaming chimera destroyed all in sight, its masters riding on its back, Detklok boarded their private Blade Copters, leaving behind the deed to Mordhaus.
Long into the night, after all the fans had been massacred, Krauser yelled, Camus drummed, Jagi laughed, and two managers still had yet to realize anything had happened.
That’s right. This week, we come to you with an old fashioned, hard fightin’ rock off.
If you don’t know these two bands, head to youtube and watch one episode each. Doesn’t matter which one, and their both only fifteen minutes or so.
Now, the rules are as follows:
Bands compete on opposing stages, rocking as hard as humanly possible. The fans are between the stages, so the front line fan convergence zone is the ultimate mosh pit. Now, both bands have excessively brutal fans, and both bands start off with 1000 fans at the show, due to needlessly limited tickets thanks to a screw-up at the Deus Ex Machina Brand Ticket Queue.
The fans will DEFINITELY start to brawl and kill, dismember, probably even eat one another eventually. DMC and Dethklok are just that metal. Question is, who will have the last fan standing? After one sides fans are cleared out, the band without fans can join the melee. If that band finishes the rest of the fans, then the bands square off head-to-head.
Now, both DMC and Deathklok have a tendancy for accidental overwhelming awesomeness, but whose luck will win the day?
Well? Get to it!
Yup, I’m late, wanna fight about it? Rough week. Start of the fall schedule always makes me a little disoriented, and now the first exams are coming and so forth, so I’m stumbling a bit. I’ll get my footing, so just bear with me, Goblinites.
Now, onto the main event…
The museum was silent, save the low hum of the air conditioning unit and the occasional dull footsteps of the night guard. Originally, there had been three night guards, But two feline-themed jewel hunters had convinced them to take a little mid-shift nap, tied up in a corner.
She smiled as she pulled the trigger, sending a new zip-line sailing across the room, dangerously close to the security lasers. Danger wasn’t new to her, and as Black Cat wrapped her legs around the wire and began to shimmy towards her newest toy, she smiled like a kitty having its ears rubbed just the right way.
However, in the rafters of the second floor, just under the alarm-rigged, heavy-duty glass roof sat a glowering feline, gently petting her informant, a fat calico cat named Joyce. Catwoman was not surprised at a second burglar, no on the contrary, she had planned for one. What she hadn’t planned for was some knock-off hussy who passed more for a skunk than a cat. She growled discontentedly and prepared to pounce, releasing Joyce, who scampered away from the soon-to-be battle.
Falicia Hardy had made it to the glass, and she pulled from her belt a small PDA style device whch stuck to the glass. “Thank God for my Deus Ex Machina Brand Radio Wave Alarm Diffuser,” said Black Cat appreciatively, having purchased it for the low, low price of $39.99 from a local Deus Ex Machina Brand discount emporium. Shop there today!
With that, she made quick work of the case, but as she reached for the Cat’s Eye Jewel, her hand was stuck by the sharp sting of a whip. Felicia dropped from her chord to the floor, landing soundlessly while still avoiding the trip lasers, and glowered up at her opponent. She was surprised to see a skankier cat-themed burglar who was obviously past her prime.
Felicia smirked. “Well well, who have we here? Here to take my prize, Grandma?” said Black Cat in a sharp but velvety tone.
Catwoman remained perched on the Bastet statue near the glass display case, and picked her paw in a bored manner. “Mind your tongue, kitten… simply give me what’s mine and I won’t have to stain that ugly white hair red. That would just get messy, you know. Now leave me to my gem. We both know I deserve it more, and besides all that, I’ve got the better cat theme, you little tramp.”
Hardy glowered and readied her grappling hooks to take to the ceiling. No one insulted the title of Black Cat. “I’m more catlike than you know, hag.” With that, she launched one of the devices to a second floor railing which propelled her towards the monochromatic feline thief. Catwoman thought the move ‘cute’ at best, and predictable, and made to move out of the way, but found her boot stuck beneath Bastet’s headpiece and instead took Felicia’s feet to her midsection. Luckily, she grabbed onto Black Cat as she attacked, propelling them both away from the lasers and up to the second floor’s balconies.
Black Cat tried to throw her off, but soon realized that Catwoman had another of her gadgets: the sharp claws meant for climbing that doubled as knives in a pinch. Catwoman dug her claws in with one hand, raking her claws across Felicia’s back and hoping to the ledge before the Cat could recover. Black Cat was close behind.
The two began circling one another, attacking occasionally with sweeping kicks and claw swipes, but then, finally, Catwoman made her move. She lunged, intending to grab Hardy by the shirt and end this before the Guards woke up and got suspicious. Black Cat had been waiting for this, and grabbed her by the arm, spinning her around and grappling her. Fighting with Spider-Man had made her resourceful like this, knowing how to read punches. With him, you were lucky if you got to take a second swing.
Catwoman knew this move all too well, having seen it frequently while fighting the Bat. Unfortunately, it seemed Black Cat was no ordinary girl, and Catwoman found her grip more than a little difficult to escape. Catwoman let out a light yowl, trying to escape.
Felica chuckled. “Poor kitty… did our play time hurt you? Guess you’re just too old to play cat and mouse… maybe you should head home and get some rest, Granny.” She said, tying her hands together.
Catwoman chuckled. “I wasn’t in pain, you idiot… I was calling for help.” She said, looking to the rafters. Black Cat followed her gaze and was surprised to notice a dozen bright eyes peering at her from the darkness. They seemed less than happy, and hissed menacingly as some prepared to pounce.
Things had become too ‘interesting’ for Felicia Hardy, who had dealt with as much as she cared to. She turned towards the railing and hopped over, nimbly landing between lasers yet again, and peered into the case. The empty case. Where was the jewel?!
Catwoman laughed as her feline friends chewed through her bonds. She used her whip to clamber to the rafters and stroked Joyce lovingly as the cat relinquished the Cat’s Eye Jewel. “Looking for this, love? Afraid you won’t be seeing it again, sweety. I guess we know who really is the best now, eh kitten? Ciao.”
Felicia swung to the rafters angrily, but then found that not one set of ductwork was open, but all of them, and even with her enhanced hearing, she couldn’t tell which duct Catwoman was using to flee, as the others were full of escaping cats.
The room was empty, but Hardy smiled and sighed, instead deciding to go with whatever else she could find. “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the game.” Once her bag was filled, she too swung off into the night. It was hours before even the guards noticed there had been a disturbance.
Ok, I’m gunna try and shorten this out, since most people have the attention span of gnats.
Black Cat: Felicia Hardy sports enhanced endurance, acrobatic ability, strength, and a wide range of equipment. Her gear ranges from small grappling devices and earrings to enhance her catlike reflexes. She also has micro-claws and the ability to negatively affect her foe’s luck. She has contacts for seeing ultraviolet light, etc. She can fight Spider-Man. REGULARLY. Yup.
Catwoman: Selina Kyle has very simple equipment, more lavish than her opponent, including a whip as well as a cat-o-nine-tails, claws and natural night vision, as well as the ability to communicate with cats. She fights Batman, so, yeah, there’s that, too. She fights BATMAN REGULARLY. Yeah, that’s a power. Oh, and she has nine lives. But she’s died 7 times. Yup, I’ll give her an extra man. Green mushroom. Whatever, you suck.
THE SETUP:
The Cat’s Eye Jewel; a magnificent oval shaped champagne diamond with a gorgeous imperfection: a black slit that looks exactly like a cat’s pupil. This priceless gem was on loan from the Deus Ex Machina Corperation, who just so happened to have a museum (more like a mew-seum, amiright?) between the marvel and DC universes.
The fight is simple, my friends. Two felines enter, only one leaves. The gem is guarded by lasers and crap, as well as glass and crap, which will hinder their battle. Which cat will win the fight, and which will go home with a wounded paw?
You get TWO VOTES. Vote once via the automated poll, and you GET A SECOND VOTE by posting WHY your choice will win in the comments.
See you Saturday with an update on this fight!!!
Hey guys! Here we are, one week after the initial poll opening, and I have to say, at least I have some votes. I am a little sad that no one wrote their opinions as to why their choice won, though. Oh well. Next week is another week.
The crowd cheered, and Vash holstered his gun, scratching the back of his head. Even still, after being hated by so many, praise made the blond-haired gunman a little bashful. For a moment, he imagined the women of the crowd embracing him, envisioned a night of celebratory drinking and new friends.
That vision was short lived, as Spike then locked onto the red coated demon and squeezed the trigger, unleashing the machine guns of the Swordfish II.
The crowd screamed in fright, the bullets sending up a huge storm of sand, blinding both Vash and Spike. However, Vash had the advantage here… hidden in the storm, he could hear the Swordfish’s engine now, so he reloaded his magnum and prepared himself.
Spike knew that no bounty of that size would go down so easily. He knew to keep his aces hidden, to wait for a moment to strike. He would watch his prey now, watch him react. If he learned his foe, it would be easier to best him. But watch as he might, no one exited the cloud, no one but the crowd ran, and as he circled, the cloud began to disperse, revealing an empty desert.
“Hmm… not bad… pretty quick. Question is… did he duck into the crowd…? Or…” Spike circled around again, getting lower to the desert, eyes trained on where his target had stood before. Spike knew no one could have fled that fast… no one. He decided to throw an Ace, hoping to catch a Joker. He fired the plasma cannon.
In a flash, the white-blue plasma ripped through the desert, tearing the dunes asunder. Under the sand, there were old cars, skeletons of long dead Thomases, and then, in a flash, just under the plasma stream, a flash of red.
Vash had taken his chance, and just barely avoided the massive weapon. He hopped to the top of an old car and then leapt onto the Swordfish as it rocketed by. He latched on with his mechanical hand and called to the pilot. “Why hello there! Not much of a day for sightseeing, is it stranger? How about you just head home, okay? I’m kinda busy…” Vash said with a goofy smile.
Spike glowered at the man hanging to the Swordfish II’s wing. Was he for real? Could this freak really be worth that many Woolongs? But Spike would not underestimate this man… after all, this guy had somehow evaded machine gun rounds, hidden under the sand, evaded his plasma cannon, and leapt onto his ship. Still, Spike grinned deviously, eager for a challenge. “Sure, why not? I was just taking my girl for a spin, anyway.”
With that, Spike did a aileron roll. (Yes yes, I know, do a barrel roll! Can’t let you do that, Star Fox. That’s not even a real barrel roll. Look it up.) Vash hung on for dear life, and endured through the spin, now landing atop the cockpit. “Hey now, that’s not very nice~!” said Vash sarcastically, his arm transforming into a machine gun for a second time.
Spike looked up in horror. “YOU IDIOT! DO-” But Vash had pulled the trigger, shooting around the cockpit, trying to pry open the glass casing. Instead, however, he accidentally triggered the escape pod. A rush of gas deafened the two as the pod spiraled off from the craft, crashing into the desert sand. The Swordfish II sailed off into the distance, ridding Spike of a great asset and giving him another: rage.
Vash, afraid for the man’s life, pried open the glass capsule, from which Spike immediately lunged, swinging his legs at Vash in anger. Vash stumbled back, falling to the sand, and looked up, seing the man’s silhouette as he leapt from the capsule, swinging his leg down in a deadly strike.
Vash blocked with his metal arm, and felt many of the parts bend and give way. He then rolled back nimbly, taking the half-second to reload his magnum. Spike drew his pistol.
A flurry of bullets followed, ripping through the red coat and the dark mess of hair, ricocheting off the capsule and filling the sand with holes. Once Vash’s gun was empty, Spike began his assault. Vash dodged the first few blows, but eventually found himself missing the man’s quick footwork, and missed a boot’s heel coming straight for his chin.
Spike grinned as the man called Vash spiraled towards the sand, readying to fire another volley. But Vash was no slouch, and hit the dust with the grace of a ballerina, hitting his ever-weakening left arm, forcing it into a partial transformation. It wouldn’t be accurate, but it was enough. He riddled the sand with shots, sending dust into Spike’s eyes. But Spike knew this tactic. It was meant to stop him, create a moment for escape. So he lunged forward, into the dust, and found… nothing.
Vash stood behind him, and whistled appreciatively. “You’re really fast, Mr. Bounty Hunter! But I am Vash The Stampede, and I’m just that much faster.” Vash said, putting his newly loaded magnum to the back of Spike’s head.
Spike froze, not believing that someone actually got the jump on him. “…so then… guess this is the end… unbelievable…” Vash instead, began to laugh. “You think I’m that type? I hate killing. I’ve never done it, and I never will, either. That’s what a certain woman taught me.”
Spike found himself offended, then relieved, then put it all together. He knew the man’s pain, trying to get by, getting a reputation he scarcely deserved, following a mantra partially because of a girl he cared about. “…She gone?” Vash knew that he understood. This fight was over. “…yeah. Long time ago now.” Vash lowered the gun.
Spike turned and faced the man, and the two spent a second studying one another. They were very different men, living very differently… but today at least, they understood each other. Spike walked past Vash, shoving his hands in his pockets. “… gotta go get my ship. Watch your back, Humanoid Typhoon. If she’s wrecked, I’ll be back fr that bounty. I won’t lose if that day comes, either.”
Vash smiled, heading back towards January, calling back to him, “Stop in January tonight, Bounty Hunter! I’ll buy you a drink!” He said with a wave.
“It’s Spike. See you around, space cowboy.” He shot back with a lazy wave.
“Be seeing you around, Spike! Find that girl of yours… life is short after all, and this world is made of Love and Peace! Enjoy it while you can!”
The two both smiled and walked their separate ways, each heading for terrible pain… and one for death. But those words resounded in Spike’s head long after, and he continued to hope that one day, his world would indeed be made of Love and Peace.
Spike got next to NO votes. There was lots of votes for a draw, so I made it close. Plus, I figured that’s what Vash would opt for, anyway. Until next week, Space Cowboys, remember that this world is made of Love and Peace! -GG
Hey! Last day to vote for the Midweek Mashup! Results are here tomorrow!
So, after traveling back in time in my shiny new Red Tardis, I decided to let you guys know about some really cool Who gear, in case you somehow missed this stuff.
This is a big, perfectly purchase-able DVD collection of all the Who you can handle, unless you’re Sam or Thanny, who could handle more. Trust me, you’ll know if you’re Sam or Thanny.
Next up? Want a Sonic Screwdriver? I do.
Even if it IS just a pen and LED light. I would still treasure it always.
Up next? Dalek Cam.
Just be careful you don’t get exterminated. Hopefully, it has a pedo sensor.
Last up? The classic need-to-own computer accessory for the Who fans… the Tardis.
It’s a wonderful USB hub, meaning you can plug your Dalek cam into it. Oh, the irony, a Dalek powered by the Tardis. This site also seems to think it’s a USB powered fridge.
If it is, then holy CRAP that’s a high powered USB. -GG
Alright, y’all. Last week, I posted a midweek mashup and got too swamped to ever give more info. This week’s been busy too, so here we go, one day late.
It only got one vote, so it doesn’t really matter.
Now, most people who have seen Trigun and Cowboy Bebop will agree that based on pure ability and skill, Vash is broken, even when compared to Spike. That’s why we have the Deus Ex Machina brand Fanboy Muting Earmuffs! All I do is put these on…
Just a sec, they’ve god some plastic doohickeys…
…
…
Need some scissors, hang on… *rummage rummage* Ah. There. *snip*
Right, so I just put these on, like so… and bam! All the twelve year olds in the WORLD couldn’t sway me now, not even on Ebaum’s World, the Newgrounds forums, or even You’re The Man Now, Dog!
That being said, here are the facts…
That being said…
Gunsmoke: a distant planet, considered the untamed frontier by most wayfarers. But, thanks to the Deus Ex Machina brand Warp Gateway Amplification Drive, it is now accessible by scientists, criminals, and most prominently, Bounty Hunters.
Desperate for cash and trying to lay low for a bit, Spike and the Bebop crew have fled the system, in favor of some high bounties out on the rim, on a small desert diamond called Gunsmoke.
The crew began as they always began, with Ed and Ein checking their facts, Jet trying to work the police angle and find some leads, and with Faye seducing wealthy men into treating her well and trying to seem moronic while ‘overhearing’ crucial information. It was here, with some prominently wealthy Sand Steamer travelers, that Faye found the big break.
“Out in the desert outside of January, you say?!” yelled an old woman in a worried huff. The man near her raised an eyebrow. So did Faye, straining her ear. The older gentleman adjusted his glasses, turning to the worried old bag. “Yes, that IS what I said, isn’t it? Must you repeat EVERYTHING I say…? The men were holding the town hostage, laying wrongful claim to their meager spring water. Then that Stampede showed up. That vandal won’t let anyone out of that town.”
The worried woman began fanning herself. “Those unfortunate souls,” she said with the cool calculation of someone who cared more for the spare change lost in the living room sofa.
Faye excused herself to powder her nose, and immediately began ditching the disguise, calling her eye in the sky.
Spike had also begun this hunt like all the others, wandering where the spirits guided him, half-heartedly looking for the price tag on this dump of a planet. Spike was, in fact, so dissatisfied with the idea of hunting a walking natural disaster (as declared by the Bernardelli Insurance Society) that he had instead opted to remain in the (slightly) air-conditioned cockpit of his baby, the Swordfish II.
The Swordfish II sailed over the dunes, clunking and sputtering occasionally, as Spike pondered the day’s events and that night’s meal. His stomach grumbled angrily, also unhappy with the day’s events.
The comm buzzed, alerting Spike to Faye’s communication request. He rolled his eyes in annoyance, sighed, and answered. “Faye. Better not be wasting my time.” Faye glowered. “Would I call if it wasn’t IMPORTANT?!” Spike grinned. “So what is it, then?” Faye sighed. “Scan the desert outside of a town called January. They say that Vash guy was spotted there about an hour ago helping rob some little town. Check it out, would you?” Spike reluctantly accepted. He could use the money. “I’m on it, Faye.”
Spike then began to think, and got a little worried… Double Dollars… how did that equate to Woolongs? He called Jet. “Spike, what’s up? Any luck?” Spike was curt, as usual. “Yeah, I’m working on that. How many Double Dollars are even in a Woolong, Jet?” Jet blinked and crossed his arms. “Huh… hadn’t thought about it. Lemme see…”
But, as usual, Ed was listening in on their conversation. She was also far faster on the draw. “Woolong, woolong! Double? triple? Cut in half? How many many? Ten Woolongs per dollar, two of those in one D.D.! Spike spike, 60 billion Double Dollars is worth 1 trillion, 200 billionWoolongs!”
Spike pushed the throttle as hard as it would go, heading straight for January.
Meanwhile, Vash the Stampede, the $$60,000,000,000 man stood face to face with a few bandits who, like most every small time criminal he faced, had decided that they could claim the bounty on his head and then continue to extort the people of January. Vash knew they had to be stopped, so that the town could be saved… and because the girl he was holding hostage was exceptionally cute!
“You vandals! Let the girl go, and I this devil gunman might still spare your miserable lives!” Vash yelled, summoning his most evil of expressions. The vandals smirked, the three of them heavily armed and ‘ready for anything.’ “Hah! You don’t even have a clue who you’re dealing with! We won’t surrender to the likes of you, Mr. Vash th-” they weren’t allowed to finish.
In a flurry, Vash fired six shots from his magnum, simultaneously unleashing his left arm’s machine gun. The magnum shots unarmed the leader and punctured his leg, sending him to the ground, while the machine gun burst into life, knocking guns from hands and filling the henchmen’s feet with just enough to drop them to the sand. The crowd watched in awe, and then began to cheer.
However, from the Swordfish II, Spike could swear he saw the town’s last hopes of defense get gunned down mercilessly by a pile of Woolongs in a red leather trench coat. Luckily, the crowd was still far enough that he could begin his assault. “Dead or alive, huh?” Spike muttered, grinning as he took aim…
With that, we wait! Vote, readers, and write a reason WHY for an additional vote! But no results until we’ve got at LEAST 10 good votes. Don’t fail me again!
Okay readers, it might be a cop-out, but I’m sleepy and have no more ideas for MWMU, and YOU GUYS NEVER SUGGEST ANYTHING WORTHWHILE!!!
So, you lazy humps, this week you get the easy one…
Hah. There you go.
Backgrounds!
A pacifistic gunman with a 60,000,000 Double Dollar bounty on his head. A crack shot, and eventually revealed to be an unaging plant-like being who can wield a massive, city leveling cannon called the Angel Arm. However, as we are dealing with ANIME Vash, not manga Vash, this weapon doesn’t damage humans, just property.
Also, he won’t kill unless people he loves are threatened with death directly in front of him. Vash has the ability to frequently dodge bullets, but bears his share of scars under his red coat.
A pistol wielding bounty hunter who is out to escape his past and make some bucks, Spike lives a (mostly) carefree life searching easy street and a path to redemption. He also has a personal ship called the Swordfish at his disposal, which has a high-energy laser weapon and machine guns.
I want to get initial reactions before I set the stage. Go ahead and vote if you want, votes are changable. Setting and premise tomorrow!
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