<div class="floatleft">(http://i190.photobucket.com/albums/z69/Neji121/Travisyellow.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Travis Touchdown, The No More Hero</strong><br/><strong>Santa Destroy Stadium</strong><br/><strong>Tagged: Nobody.</strong><br/><hr/><br/>The hooded man eased his way through the bustling crowds of Destroy stadium with a casual, devil-may-care stride and a gentle whistle. In such a godforsaken place as Santa Destroy, the sight of a hooded man in broad daylight didn't phase a single person. Crimson stains in the brown fabric of the cloak didn't avert eyes, bullet holes didn't draw attention and defined slash markings didn't make anyone do a double take. Nobody even noticed the smokey, acrid scent of blood and gunpowder rolling off of his cloak. Nobody except Travis, that was.<br/><br/>The mixed scent spelled death for him, souvenirs of his first two ascensions through the ranks of the UAA. Weak as those Assassin's might've been, they were the beginnings of many battles, battles that, as of now, filled him with both elation and regret. Well, some of them anyway. Destroyman was an asshole.<br/><br/>He wasn't sure what was going to happen on this beautiful day, but as usual, he was prepared for the best. His beam katana hung freely from his rearmost belt-loop, jangling slightly with each step as he made his way further into the stadium. It's packed corridors prompted images of thugs and amateur hit-men to pop into his mind.<em>Dude, you look SO sweet. Are you prepared, HUH?</em>Thinking about all the chaff he had to cut through to reach the cream of the crop almost made him want to face-palm. Fighting punks like those wasn't so much fun as it was tedious bullshit. At the very least it helped blow off steam.<br/><br/>Only when he was half a second away from walking into a wall did Travis snap back into reality, leading himself to the edge of the south entrance of the stadium. He didn't bother taking a seat in the stands, he wasn't staying long. The smell of diesel fuel and the sound of gargantuan engines churning brought a bit of a smile to his face. He had already begun considering an upgrade for his trusty bike, but with all the exhaust in the air a Schpeltiger III was beginning to sound even more badass than he originally thought.<br/><br/>He hadn't been to the Mayhem Monster Truck Rally in ages. In fact, he'd been a kid last time he was here, and though he was fresh out of that good old child-like wonder, there was enough chaos and destruction to keep his attention for a good while. He was among those in the crowd who hadn't thought much of the massive plume of smoke and fire that began to bellow from the center of the stadium. Such events were common place at the Mayhem Monster Truck Rally, just another obstacle to add more death to this already blood-soaked event. He, along with most of the others attending the show, clapped as the demonic rider spewed from the massive inferno and began laying waste to the competitors in a truly impressive display of violence.<br/><br/>When the blond curls began to poor from the rider's slowly breaking mask, Travis raised an eyebrow and smirked, crossing his arms beneath the cloak. "A chick, huh?" The sight of all this got him a little hot and bothered, admittedly. He would've loved the plow the living HELL out of a girl like that...that is, until the Jumbotron zoomed in<em>real</em>close to the now exposed face of the rider. His eyes widened a moment, and for a brief moment he was perhaps the loudest person in that entire stadium.<br/><br/>"YOU'VE GOTTA BE SHITTIN' ME!!!!"<br/><br/>His hood fell back then and he reached up to run his fingers through his somehow naturally spiked hairdo, an annoyed groan falling from his lips as he watched the carnage spread slowly from within the field and into the bleachers. Cameramen and their tools spontaneously combusted and cars went flying through the air and into the desperate, fearful crowds. Flaming bodies soon began to soar into the stands, as well, causing violent explosions upon impact. It was nothing short of a miracle that Travis wasn't hit, or that at the very least the gate he loitered in didn't collapse on him. Everyone began flooding the gates that lead out, hoping for some way to escape, save for Travis, who continued to watch and questioned with every fiber of his being how in the name of fuck Bad Girl returned.<br/><br/>The twisting of her face into...fuck knows what...followed by the bloodcurdling scream of the unlucky guard prompted Travis to take his leave. He wasn't dealing with this on day one out of the slammer, plus a ranking match hadn't been officially scheduled. He was sure he'd be forced to take on that bitch eventually, but now was just not the time.<br/><br/>He shoved his way through the crowd, rushing out of the stadium the same way he came, through the corridors and out the back way. Even when he reached the parking lot he continued to run, hearing a strange, shifting sound as he hopped the fence and stood on the street outside the building. When he looked back he saw nothing more than a glowing, white circle on the ground. An Akashic point.<br/><br/>He stared at the circle for a long while before turning away and marching forward. He wasn't sure where home was now that everything had changed, but he had his work cut out ahead of him, it seemed.<br/><br/>Time to rest up and drop a save! (To be continued at Motel "No More Heroes")<br/><br/><br/><br/>