[Round 3] Lucas vs. Iden

Currently Lucas was debating the rewards/repercussions of lodging a knife into a pop stars throat in front of thousands of screaming fans. Luckily he had earplugs in at the moment as he casually loitered backstage waiting for his fight to start. However, the earplugs could only mute the noise. He could still hear bits and pieces of the lyrics and the screaming of no doubt the traditional gauntlet of babbling teenage girls.

Delightful.

As his glowing eye looked up into the rafters he got an idea.

---

Later as the pop sensation, was busting several moves, which had been done years ago by people far more talented that him, people were surprised when a large sandbag seemed to shoot down, barely missing the singer and instead hitting the ground with a large sound. Everyone’s eyes moved over to that area of stage as through the fog there was revealed Lucas.

The crowd gave a cheer thinking that it was just a creative way for the combatant to enter the ring. Lucas gave a fake cheery smile and a wave out to the crowd. He held the smile as he muttered to himself.

“Prancing little pop bastard, I wouldn’t of missed had he stayed still for one minute.…”

He then popped out his earplugs and awaited his next opponent. Unfortunately that also let the too-catchy-for-it's-own-damn-good pop music flood his ears.

Win some,lose some.

Well his opponent had showed up, so this was going well so far. As his opponent gave some sort of salute, Lucas gave only a brief nod. He then pulled two of his daggers out, and held one in each hand. The red jeweled one was held in his left hand the blade pointing down toward the stage, the other a blue jeweled dagger was in his right hand, pointing toward his opponent. The popstar above them changed to some other annoying song, as Lucas squared off.

He only held the ready position for a brief moment, before he moved taking off in at first a light jog toward his opponent, the annoying pop music picking up tempo as he started to quickly close the distance between him and his opponent. He had been careful with gauging the first few fights, making moves carefully like a chess player, but it was the third round and the first time he'd be getting a full fight. If he was going out might as well make it a good one. Some might say he was winging it

He continued toward his opponent picking up speed until the gap was almost closed. However as he neared the five foot mark away from his target he used his momentum to spin forward coming to a rather flamboyant break in speed, his coat flying up to act as a blinder. As he came out of his spin, his arm flicked out and loosed the blue jeweled dagger at his opponent's left shoulder as he stood now stopped from the run forward.

The trained observer thought might realized that his grip on the red jeweled dagger had shifted slightly than it had been before the spin. However he kept that one still in his hand.

There were so many fights to get in. Hopefully, he hadn't missed all of them. Rhoslyn was standing around backstage with the Hobo Band ready to rock, his favorite guitar in his hand. As the song the probably-gay singer began to wind its way down, Rhoslyn looked around at his band, then nodded, a joint slowly smoldering in the corner of his mouth.

The song finished, and Rhoslyn stuck his head out of the side of the stage, opposite the fighters. Eyes swirling and sparkling with power, the fey fed off the emotions of the crowd and surged his glamour back through it, cycling like a giant fucking current. Karter would get maybe a third of the way through the next song (which seemed to be slow, poppy, and made of crapsaccharine) by the time Rhoslyn had ensorcelled the minds of most of the audience. Wasn't hard, with there being hundreds if not thousands of teens mostly focused on aforementioned hot bod.

"Midus is a fag."

He took one more drag off the joint, casually tossed the roach over his shoulder, and snapped his fingers.

---

Something in the crowd seemed to shift. The adoring faces of the fans suddenly shifted to confused, skeptical, and then pained. Grumbling began to come, followed by a series of intermittent boos. After the noise of the crowd's disapproval began to approach that of the music, the young Karter stopped his playing to hear what the crowd was saying. **"KARTER..."

"...SUCKS!"

"KARTER..."

"SUCKS!"

"KARTER!"

"SUCKS!"**

Well, that was the cue. Rhoslyn stepped out on stage, and just like he'd arranged through bribes, the light crew put the spotlight on him as he strode towards the very confused pop star. With a chuckle, Rhoslyn let the guitar slide down his right hand, then grabbed the mike.

"YOUR MUSIC IS TERRIBLE AND YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PERSON!"

Erin Karter looked very confused. This lasted for all of three seconds, as Rhoslyn swung up and sideways with the guitar hard. For a split-second when the side of the guitar slammed directly into Karter's jaw, there were hundreds of flashes going off from the cameras, a bone-breaking crack! echoing through the mike and speakers.

Karter dropped to the ground, knocked the fuck out with a broken jaw.

"Hahaha, I don't believe it."

A bum reached out with a rag to clean the blood off of Rhoslyn's guitar as he began to strum.

"Ah, ah, don't touch it. Hey, Ray, Hey Sugar, tell them who we are."

"Well, we're big rock singers We got golden fingers And we're loved everywhere we go..."

"That sounds like us..."

"We sing about beauty and we sing about truth At ten thousand dollars a show..."

"..right."

"We take all kinds of pills that give us all kind of thrills But the thrill we've never known, Is the thrill that'll gitcha when you get your picture On the cover of the Rollin Stone!"

"Rollin' stone...

"Wanna see my picture on the cover!"

"Stone..."

"Wanna buy five copies for my mother!"

"Yeah!"

"Wanna see my smilin face, on the cover of the rollin stone!"

"That's a verruh verruh good idea!"

"I got a freaky ole lady named Cocaine Katy Who embroideries on my jeans, I got my poor ole grey haired daddy Drivin' my limosine Now it's all designed to blow our minds But our minds won't really be blown Like the blow that'll gitcha when you get your picture On the cover of the Rollin' Stone!"

"Rollin' stone...

"Wanna see my picture on the cover!"

"Stone..."

"Wanna buy five copies for my mother!"

"Yeah!"

"Wanna see my smilin face, on the cover of the rollin stone!"

"Hey, I know how..."

Rhoslyn strutted forward on the stage, threw up the horns, started a riff, and let out a

"ROCK AND ROOOOOOOOOOOLL!"

as he cheerfully stomped the shit out of Erin Karter.

"Ah, that's beautiful... We got a lot of little teenage blue eyed groupies Who do anything we say We got a genu-ine Indian Guru Who's teaching us a better way We got all the friends that money can buy So we never have to be alone And we keep getting richer but we can't get our picture On the cover of the Rollin' Stone!"

"Rollin stone..."

"Wanna see my picture on the cover!" "Stone..."

"Wanna buy five copies for my mother!"

"Stone..."

"Wanna see my smilin face On the cover of the Rollin Stone On the cover of the Rollin.......

"Stone..."

"Wanna see my picture on the cover..."

"I don't know why we ain't on the cover, Baby...."

"Wanna buy five copies for my mother!"

"We're beautiful fellas...."

"Wanna see my smilin face..."

"I ain't kiddin, we would make a beautiful cover....

"On the cover of the rollin stone......"

"Front shot, right up front, man..... I can see it now, we'll be up in the front, smilin. Man... aww, beautiful."

The crowd went nuts. Most of it was due to the fact that Rhoslyn wasn't half bad at singing or guitar, but the fact that he'd waltzed on stage, clocked someone with a guitar, and promptly out-rocked the whole show in one song did deserve some clapping.

Somewhere, somehow, the world had grown just a little bit less annoying.

The change in music went by and large wholly unnoticed. Iden had far more important things to tend to, given his headlong rush into the man with the pointy bits of steel.

Sadly, Lucas held his ground. That was a mild disappointment; Iden had hoped to pin him down and make with the rip tear. Still, the situation was not without merit. The young DeSeer was embraced by his foe in a bear hug, which he very promptly returned. The two were entangled in each others arms now; a momentary "dawwwww" echoed through the audience.

Then things took a turn for the unpleasant. Much at the same time Lucas tried to shiv Iden's spine, the young DeSeer wrapped his legs around the knife fighter's waist. All limbs clung to the man like a parasite; the Cainite had a plan. After all, it was Lucas who'd brought this on himself.

Mighty jaws opened wide, stretching the cloth mummifying the dead man's face. His head slammed downward with violent intent; he was going to rip out a chunk of Lucas' shoulder with his bare teeth, bandages be damned. After all, Iden was a Cainite; a vampire of sorts who fed on the blood of the living...and Lucas had just presented himself as a very handy snack. Sure, he would get to pry apart Iden's lower spine with his daggers, but the two of them were now locked together by more than just powerful limbs; the Cainite's bite conveyed a strange, masochistic sense of overwhelming pleasure that helped to placate a lesser prey. Were the dead man's teeth to dig in and bleed him, Lucas would find himself facing an extreme distraction of an unusual kind.