GD46: In which we descend into madness.

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Name: Arthur Jayes

Alias: Camo Man (man man man man man)

Appearance: Arthur is a handsome man, one of many in his family. He stands just short of six feet tall, with a fairly chiseled physique. Not completely musclebound, but enough to make it noticeable. If asked, he would say that his best features would be his piercing blue eyes and golden hair, long enough to be grown and placed into a Mantail (a manly ponytail). Although not fond of jewelry, he wears a large, onyx ring on his right ring finger. He also tends to dress rather fashionably, though as of late he's been wearing a button-up camouflage jacket, though not all of the time.

Personality: Intelligent, but warm. Cocky, yet not noticeably arrogant. He tends to disbelieve things that shouldn't exist, or at least don't exist in his own world. As such, he finds it hard to wrap his mind around a Bi-Omnipotent jacket that had found its way into his possession. He'll also find difficulty in believing many of his opponents for what they are. He's often frustrated by having to fight in these duels.

The Jacket: The Jacket is the source of all of Camo Man (man man man man man)'s power. This article of clothing is completely invincible against every form of weapon and damage except for damage done by a God or someone of a standing such as that. The Jacket has four pockets, two on each side of the opening, two big down below and two smaller breast pockets. The Jacket decides on what Camo Man can pull out of its pockets. Camo Man can pull any weapon, I repeat, ANY weapon out of the pockets. His weapons usually come in two forms: Vials of potions and actual combat weapons. The potions merely need to be consumed in order to change his body. All knowledge of how to use the weapons are implanted into his head as he gets them. Weapons come from the lower pockets, vials come from the upper right, while the upper left pocket is always buttoned shut.

History: Arthur Jayes grew as the elder child in a rich jeweler family in Battle Creek, Michigan. Life was easy for him. Everything he ever wanted was his, school (a nice private school) was easy, and friends came plentiful. His parents pampered him and his younger sister, Brittany, for all they're worth. Ever since he turned 18 his father has been training him to take over the jewelry business when it was time for him to retire. That was six years ago. After the faithful day of finding the Jacket he has turned into a Duelist, although his family and friends know nothing of this life. He resents the life of a Duelist, but can't help enjoying the fights he participates in.

“Gather ‘round, gather ‘round, children.” Grandpa Rust said to the three little boys in the room. The children hurried, rushing to their usual place in front of ole’ Grand Papy Rust’s chair. “For today, I shall tell you the tale of a super hero. Not one of those ones you find in your comic books and newfangled television shows. No no, this is a real hero, a true man.”

“The story of Camo Man?” Yelled Coevalent, who was oldest of the bunch.

“The bestest stupor hero EVAR?” Yelled Tiger, who was the youngest.

“C’MON GRAMPS TELL THE STORY,” cried Wuff, who really, really wanted to hear the story.

Grandpa Rust just laughed and smiled, “Why are you always so impatient? Alright, alright, I’ll tell you the story of Camo Man. It all began in Florida…”

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Arthur, I can’t find anything in my size.”

Arthur Jayes listened to the whining voice of his little sister, who was a mere two years younger than his 24 years. He looked completely bored here, shopping for clothes with his little sister. Now, if it was a girlfriend, he would have been fine. But noooooo, it had to be his sister. He couldn’t even ask her to try things on for him, for cripe’s sake! “Then get something a little bigger, Brittney. It won’t hurt you if your clothes don’t show off your every curve.”

“Arthur, have you seen my figure? I need form fitting clothes.” She said, getting irritated with him. “Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even hang out with you, ugh!”

Arthur smirked as she stormed off; this was a common occurrence on Brittney’s shopping trips. Once she was done, she’d come crawling back and beg for the credit card, and of course he’d give it to her because of all the blackmail material she had on him. But this was a victory! Besides, he HAD seen her figure before, his sister was a blond bombshell! Most of the people in his family were good looking, actually. Such a family is rarely seen, but there it was.

He himself was one of the more handsome men in their family, something he both revered and cursed. On one hand, he could have any woman he wanted (something he took advantage of often). On the other, he was always being stared at. He hated the feeling of someone staring at him. Gazing over his long, blond hair, fashionably set into a ponytail (a Mantail if you ask him). Trying to get a glimpse of his cool, ice blue eyes. Their eyes always traveled across his face; his prominent jaw, his high forehead, bushy eyebrows, and sharply angled nose. The gaze will always travel lower. Even when wearing the least revealing clothing, people were drawn to his figure; head held high, shoulders kept broad, chest out, and a walk that’s almost as though he’s strutting. His biceps and abs proved that he kept himself in shape, but not overly so. Muscles looked good, but too much muscle was not appealing.

The man sighed, running his fingers over his hair. He was ready to get out of here and his sister was starting to make him impatient. He glanced over at her, looking at skirts that were way too short, and sighed. He remembered when his sister was just a sweet young girl, a body full of innocent bones. Boy, did that change quickly. What he would do to relive the good ole’ days of his childhood! There were no days like kid days. Suddenly, a large bang from the front of the store caused Arthur to jump out of surprise. He glanced at his sister, who had screamed out of surprise, but she was fine. He glanced back towards the front of the store, wondering what had caused it.

“Lady you are trying my patience. I know that it is here. You cannot fool me.” A man stood at the counter, holding a red longsword at the cashier’s throat. Apparently, he had banged his fist on the counter when the woman told him they had no jackets left. Seeing as the seasons were changing to winter, he didn’t doubt it.

“S-sir,” the cashier stuttered out, making a valiant effort to not faint. “There a-are no jackets left! I-I have to ask you to l-leave.”

“Leave, or what?” Arthur shifted so he could see the speaking swordsmen clearer. A shocked expression crashed onto his face as he saw the man’s features. His skin tone was lilac, causing the watcher to think that, perhaps, he was a visitor from another world. His clothes looked medieval, though; he dressed like a prince in his red, frilly outfit and large, tuft hat with a purple feather sticking out from one side.

“Or I’ll call the cops,” the cashier’s tone was starting to become more steady, more confident.

“Ha! Hahaha!” The lilac man started laughing, but his sword held steady. “You humans! You make me laugh!” However, his face became deathly serious after that line and his sword moved forward, poking the cashier’s neck hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.

“Hey, why don’t you pick on someone your own size!”

’Oh god, no! Was the first thing Arthur thought. He whipped his head around to see Brittney holding a fan, trembling slightly. What the hell was she thinking!? She was about to take on an alien with a damned sword!? “Brittney, get the hell out of there!”

The lilac man looked at Brittney, but never let his sword leave the cashier. “You dare to stand up to The Great Voc Sevlar? What insolence! I shall strike you down once I have finished with this woma-“

Sevlar’s sentence was cut off as an old clock flew through the air, smashing into his head. The lilac man reeled from surprise as Arthur started shouting at him. “You will not touch my sister!”

Instead of retaliating, Sevlar simply watched his new opponent. He could feel his blood start to pump, it was another one of those situations. Was this the presence he felt? Surely not, it couldn’t be; this man wasn’t strong enough. “Are you after the artifact, too, Duelist?”

Arthur was taken aback; a duelist? What? “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He grabbed a nearby chair, holding it up as if it were his weapon. His gaze traveled to his sister, but he found that she was not there. Neither was the cashier, ’when did that happen?’

“Don’t fool around with me. I know what you’re here for and I WILL find it first!” The lilac man raised his hand, calling forth a ball of flames. The chair-wielder MUST be a duelist, there was no other way of explaining what was happening.

Arthur’s eyes widened; the alien could do magic now!? The man dodged to the right, barely avoiding getting singed by the flames. His heart was beating heavily now, his fighting instinct kicking in. For someone who had never gotten into a scrap before, he found his movements surprisingly fluid. Perhaps all the exercising had paid off? “You will not escape me, Duelist! The artifact belongs to Sevlar!”

The creature ran forward with surprising grace, jumping and landing on a table near Arthur’s position. He swung his sword in a downward slash, hoping to end this in one hit. Arthur dodged again, rolling under a nearby table, leaving his chair behind. He crawled out of his roll only to hear Sevlar jump onto the table he was just under. Arthur started running.

“What is this, a Duelist that will only run!? Where’s your fighting spirit? Show me what you can do, so I may beat you at your fullest!” Sevlar continued to chase the man he claimed was a duelist, swinging his sword wildly, destroying many of the clothes it came in contact with.

“I don’t know what the hell you mean! Get the hell away from me!” Arthur yelled back. He also glanced back, checking to see how close this purple creature was from him. He let out a yelp as his foot slipped on a pile of abandoned clothes. What kind of person in their right mind would leave clothes lying in the middle of an aisle!? One who was trying to escape a maniac with a sword, apparently.

“Aha! I’ve finally caught you! Die by my blade, cowardly human!” Arthur tried to crawl away from the maniac behind him, but he knew he had been caught. But, even as the maniac lifted his arm to deal a lethal blow, something caught Arthur’s eyes: a camouflage jacket. It mesmerized him, beckoning him forward. He didn’t know why he felt this irresistible urge to touch the jacket that was so haphazardly thrown onto the floor, but he succumbed to it. With speed that surprised both him and Sevlar, almost as if it wasn’t his own, he jumped from his prone position. The sword buried itself in the store’s tile and its master cursed. Arthur grabbed the jacket, clutching it to his chest. The moment he did that, his world went white.

Arthur was standing now, surveying the area. He stood on nothing, he saw nothing, he breathed nothing; this was strange, he didn’t know what was going on, he was confused. And thus, he yelled, “WHERE THE HELL AM I!?”
You are in my world, young man. I have brought you here, outside of time, so that we may converse.
Arthur spun quickly, trying to find the source of the voice, but he saw nothing. “Where are you!?”
I am everywhere, everywhere all the time. I am… Bi-omnipotent.
Now this just puzzled Arthur. “No no no, ok, so you’re some kind of deity, that explains this place, but Bi-omnipotent? You’re twice as omnipotent as any omnipotent being? That doesn’t even make sense! What the heck kind of line is that!?”
I see that you are not a believer. But do not worry, you shall see the light soon enough. Outside of this realm, you are being chased by the Swordsmage, Voc Sevlar, are you not? If you provide me adequate entertainment, I shall lend you my powers.
“Is that the only way I’ll survive this freak’s attack?” Arthur was weary to trust this… being. He didn’t know anything about it except that it was a liar and that it held great power.
Yes, the only way you can defeat this Duelist is if you accept my power. And, I do not lie.
Arthur groaned, there was that word ‘Duelist’ again. “What the heck is a duelist and why does he call me one?”
Because that is what you are. A Duelist is a person or creature with very special abilities and power. They have the aura of a fighter, and fighting another Duelist is instinct for them. You have the aura of a Duelist, yet you are not one. You are not one because you have not yet made the decision to fight. But I will help you unlock that power, that will to fight.
“What if I don’t want it?”
Then you will perish.
Arthur snapped back to reality with a gasp, finding himself back on that floor with Sevlar’s blade pointed at his chest. But both Duelists looked shocked, and then Sevlar yelled, “Where did you get that!? When did you get the artifact!?”

Arthur looked down to find himself clad in a long-sleeved camouflage jacket; that very same jacket he had clutched to his chest moments before. It had somehow found its way onto his torso, he was wearing it now. “I-I don’t know…” He responded in a hushed tone, not believing what he was seeing. But he figured he should start, the events of the day weren’t exactly ordinary. He admired the jacket; it was much like the US Army’s typical army jacket, but it… felt like so much more. Four pockets adorned the front, three of which unbuttoned, but the pocket over his heart being buttoned. He saw nothing within the pockets. It was… weird.

“Then I will have to force it off of you, now DIE!” Sevlar raised his sword and slashed downwards again. Arthur, not knowing what to do, covered his face with his arms. The sword struck the sleeves of the camouflage jacket and… did nothing? Despite the sleeves being less than an eighth of an inch thick, the material stopped the sharp instrument of death in its tracks. Arthur sat dumbfounded, but Sevlar only scowled. “It seems as though the Jacket has already bonded with someone as lowly as yourself. Rise, Duelist, and tell me your name.”

Arthur rose as Sevlar backed off and, feeling compelled to, spoke. “My name is Ar- Thugh.” He stopped, blinking; he couldn’t say his name. “My name is Ar-thughr.” He looked furious now, why the hell couldn’t he say his name? “My name is Ar- Camo Man!” He finally yelled out, his name followed by an echo of the word “man” as if they were inside of a vast cave full of singing angels. His furious look melted away to surprise. “Th-that’s not my name. My name is Camo Man.” Once again, that chorus of mountain angels sung out, “man man man man man…”

Sevlar scowled. “You obviously cannot control the artifact that you wear. I will find my way around it, but I must kill you first.” The lilac man lifted his sword again, swinging it at “Camo Man,” but it was blocked once again by the sleeve. Sevlar’s scowled deepened as he started to rage; no way this mere mortal will stop him, jacket or not!

Sevlar launched a flurry of slashes towards Camo Man, but they were blocked by the defender’s quickened reflexes. Arthur marveled at his actions; it was almost as if the jacket was doing all of the work, but it wasn’t that. This was HIM, he was doing all this blocking. The jacket was only boosting his speed to do so. The fight continued throughout the store, the only thing surviving the swordmage’s onslaught being the jacket and Arthur himself.

“Why won’t you just die!?” Sevlar screamed, his eyes full of hatred and rage. Arthur was just as surprised at this as Sevlar was. It was exhilarating, he had never felt so alive before! But, he was about to feel the downside of being a Duelist. After one particularly strong strike, Sevlar pushed his hand forward, conjuring up flames straight into Arthur’s chest. The force pushed the man backwards, a surprised look of pain on his face, and straight through the store’s entrance. Glass broke as he flew through the doors and tumbled over the ground, flying head over heel until he hit a Mustang parked in the lot. Arthur felt the back of his head only to feel blood coating his hair. His eyes widened, he wasn’t invincible like this?

“Shit,” he cursed to himself and stood shakily. He guessed that only the jacket was indestructible, he himself was still mortal. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t he who was controlling the jacket, they were supposed to be working together. He felt as though this was right; no, he KNEW it was right. The jacket then sent an image into his mind of him reaching into the two lower pockets. Arthur hesitated for just a moment before doing so. He winced as two heavy, gauntlet-like objects snapped onto his hands, but looked ahead at Sevlar stepping out of the building.

“You will not survive this, Camo Man! I will get that artifact!” The Swordsmage started running, sword raised, towards Arthur. The latter removed his hands from his pocket and glanced at the gloves he was now wearing. They were metal, pure iron it seemed by how heavy they were. They were featureless, completely conformed to his hands, except for one thing. Around each hand, circling like a moon, was a small object not unlike a yoyo. It, too, was made of metal and featureless. Information started pouring into his mind, startling him as the telepathic link with the jacket kicked into high gear. He screamed, falling to his knees and clutching his head. The orbiting yoyos hit his head uselessly, trying to continue traveling around the gloves, but they did no damage to him. As sudden as the information transfer started, it ended. He stopped screaming, opening his eyes as he realized he was fine. Slowly removing his hands from his head, he glanced at the gloves, and then to Sevlar. He knew how to work them, he knew how to make them; he knew everything about the gloves.

He smiled.

Raising a hand above his head, he swung it forward. The yoyo on his hand shot forward as if on a string, straight into Sevlar’s face. The lilac-colored man reeled from the blow, clutching his now bleeding nose. In his defense, he didn’t scream at all, out of pain or otherwise, he just kept advancing. The yoyo returned to Arthur, who caught it so it could start its orbit once more. “Toys will not help you now, Camo man!” Sevlar yelled, undeterred by the injury.

“Hey, they could help more than you think.” Once again, Arthur raised his arm and swung it forward, and once again, the yoyo flew forward. This time, Sevlar blocked it, knocking it to the side. It swung in an arch and returned to the glove quickly.

Arthur let loose a flurry of yoyo strikes, aiming to hamper his opponent’s advance, but now it did nothing. Now that Sevlar knew what the gloves were for, he was blocking all blows that could have struck him. Camo Man started throwing faster; where one yoyo would strike, the next would come only seconds behind it. Sevlar started running now, eager to reach his opponent. Even with his naturally enhanced reflexes, those damned toys were starting to get harder to block. Was this really the man who was so adamant about running away earlier? Now he was fighting back as though he had been dueling all his life!

Sevlar jumped over the last volley of metal and screamed, slashing downwards as he landed. Arthur stumbled backwards with a surprised scream; Sevlar had struck him in the jacket’s opening, slicing his shirt and leaving a long cut down his chest. The jacket-clad man stumbled backwards frantically. He couldn’t let his opponent get that close. However, one thing in the back of his mind screamed at him, the yoyos always returned. Despite all of his instincts, or maybe even because of them, Arthur moved forward and placed his hands on Sevlar’s chest. The lilac man’s eyes shot opened as he turned around, sword raised to defend. But it was too late; the yoyos struck him in his back and side hard, winding him before they went around him to get to meet with their respective gloves.

Sevlar fell to his knees, his back lighting up with pain, and Arthur stood over him, panting heavily. He didn’t know how much longer he could last in this fight, the simple truth was that Sevlar outclassed him physically many times over, and magically, too, not that he could do any magic. Camo Man let out a loose breath, but then that familiar urge filled his mind again. He slapped the glove on his left hand against the right, transferring the yoyo so that both of the objects were orbiting around his right hand. The left glove quickly disappeared and the man reached into his upper right pocket. He reached and searched, his hand going deep into the pocket, deeper than any could have expected, until he found what he was looking for. He clutched the shaft, wondering what it was, and pulled. As he removed the object from his pocket, he was slightly disappointed. There was a wand, and that’s all it was. A white wand, thin and stick-like. Again, the information exchange started, everything there was to know about this stick was transferred into his head. He didn’t fall this time, though, and his scream was choked in his throat.

“I… will not… fall to you… human.” Sevlar said with baited breath. He raised his hand, dropping his sword, and summoned lightning around his hand. Arthur’s eyes shot opened as he thrust the stick forward. All of the electricity his opponent was about to wield shot into the stick, traveling along its surface area, crackling with power. “W… what?” Sevlar looked confused, but Arthur smiled.

“Thunder Conductor.” He felt as though that was a stupid as hell name for the stick, even if it made sense, but decided not to tempt the jacket into changing his words again. Instead, he took the stick and tapped the two yoyos spinning around his hand. Both of them crackled with electricity, their orbits disrupted but they didn’t leave the glove’s magnetic field. Arthur, his grin widening, raised his hand. “I’d like to thank you for the chance to find this jacket, Sevlar. I owe you one.” And with that, Arthur lifted his hand and swung down hard. The two supercharged yoyos slammed into Sevlar’s face causing him to fly backwards with force. The lilac colored man flipped through the air, tumbled over the ground, and landed hard on the concrete. Arthur watched, seeing if the man would move, but the motionless body told him that he wouldn’t. He sighed, breathing a breath of relief, and closed his eyes; his fight was finally over.

When he opened them, he was back in that white place again. He didn’t bother looking around, he knew he wouldn’t see anything. He spoke first. “Do I get an explanation?”
I am… bored. Having as much power as I do, it is hard to make things become entertaining without destroying the fabric of the universe and remolding it to my every whim. But I have found entertainment in these Duelists, and I want to be closer to the action. You have tasted the glory of victory, even though I helped you more than I should, and I know you want more. While this Jacket, my form, is invincible, you are not. But you can get stronger, and I will help you defeat more like him.
“I have no choice?”
There is always a choice. You can choose how you see fit.
Arthur nodded. “Why did you make me say Camo Man (man man man man man) before? No offense, but the name is really stupid-“
Because that is now your name when you are with me. When we fight, you are no longer Arthur Douglas Jayes, you will be known as Camo Man. This, I yield no quarter. It will happen.
“Yeah, yeah, fine. What now?”
Now, you sleep. Until I am needed, I shall be but an ordinary jacket. Do not leave me behind, or you may find yourself in a Duel without me.
“Sleep? But it’s only three in the afternoon? Hey, are you listening to me?” Arthur found himself transported back to the parking lot instantly. He cursed what had happened, and why he didn’t get more answers. Out of curiosity, he glanced over at the place Sevlar had laid unconscious, but he wasn’t there. With a look of worry, Arthur scanned the surrounding area; his opponent was nowhere in sight. He took a hesitant step forward. That very simple act was all it took. Arthur lurched forward, falling as his brain shut down.

He was asleep from exhaustion before he even hit the ground.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

“Grandpa Rust, wake up!” Yelled little Tiger.

“Oh, let the old man sleep, it wasn’t as if we hadn’t heard the story before, anyways.” Coevalent said calmly.

“Still wanna hear what happened next…” Wuff piped up, crossing his arms.

Grandpa Rust had fallen asleep in his chair. It was probably for the better, because he couldn’t remember what duel happened next for Camo Man…