[Round 2] Razel vs. Unnamed

The arena itself, which actually sits below ground level, spans two hundred feet in diameter with walls twenty feet high before the stands begin. The floor of the arena is sprinkled with just enough sand to cover up the stones beneath, but not enough to be significantly detrimental to footing or traction. Gates at the northern and southern end lead into the arena, through which contenders will enter upon being summoned from their quarters in order to compete in the designated match. The platform is risen only four feet off the ground. The stone is tough and is made to withstand superhuman matches. Though there will be cracks and such to show damage, it is a resilient platform that cannot be destroyed with ease. The ring itself covers a span of seventy-five feet in diameter within the two-hundred span of the whole fighting arena within the seating area (this includes out of bounds).

Out of Bounds: The ground between the platform and the wall of the stands is out of bounds, which naturally starts the ten count. Touching the stands is also out of bounds. If the platform somehow ends up getting chunked somewhere to reveal ground, that exposed ground still becomes time out.

"M-must you leave...?" She huffed out between heavy gasps, her nails digging into his back as to not let him leave.

Razel pushed himself off of her and climbed out of the bed, "There are more pressing matters that require my attention."

The young woman sat up and rested her back against the headboard. She pulled up the blanket and wrapped it around her to cover her bare body. "When will you be back?" she pouted as she watched him dress.

"Never," Razel replied with a voice of indifference. He finished the last button on his coat and left the room without looking back.

It wasn't long before the demon was walking through the tunnel. The cheer of the crowd echoed all throughout the dim pathway. The light from outside became brighter the closer he came to the exit, and finally as he stepped out into open viewing the crowd gave a an earth-shaking roar.

Razel's eyes didn't look to the crowd, his eyes were focused on the platform just a short distance ahead of him. He continued with his advance in large strides and effortlessly jumped onto the edge of the circular platform. He took a few short steps closer to the center while he adjusted his onyx cuff links. His thick tail swept the sand off of the stone just behind him.

Unlike his opponent, the demon had a refined appearance. He was clean and he acted in a civilized manner. In fact, he looked more like an official for the tournament than an actual competitor. His dark pin-stripe suit was tailored to snugly fit his musculature. His belt, his shoes, the band and face of his watch, and the gem of his cuff links were all a matching black. Likewise, the metals used for buckles, watches, and so on were a glinting silver. His shirt was the purest of whites, a perfect contrast to the dark grays and blacks of his suit and tie.

It was a sophisticated look, further enhanced by a neat haircut with precise edges. Then there was the the exotic nature of his character: the long spaded tail, the red pigment of his skin, the pointed ears, and his glowing amber eyes. It was no surprise that the loudest screams came from a group of women who had pushed their ways through the crowd to the front of the stadium with hopes that they may catch his eye.

But Razel didn't turn to look at them. He seemingly didn't even pay much attention to the rabid...thing that stood his opposite. He continued to make frivolous adjustments to his accessories, appearing rather disinterested in what was supposed to be happening.

Razel's eyes floated up and his brow quirked to look at the creature when he spoke to the demon.

"Sadly, no. That wench wouldn't allow me to rest," His tone casual, he made the final adjustments to his clothes before standing straight with his hands at his waist.

He looked forward, his eyes level with his opposite's. The distance between them made the mere inch of difference in height nearly unnoticeable. The creature had Razel's attention, but the demon still didn't seem to be too interested in what was happening. As he sized up the creature he opened the mental flood gates, allowing his spiritual energy to course through his being with a considerable portion passively finding its way to his right hand.

"Let's not make this take any longer than it has to," he said without a hint of enthusiasm. "I have other things to do."

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 1

Razel raised a brow as he shifted around the platform's edge to maintain the distance.

Is he...gay?

Meanwhile, more of the demon's spiritual energy flowed within, with an even greater concentration accumulating at his right hand.

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 2

Jeers from the crowd came as the two of them played their game. As if it were choreographed, they seemingly moved in unison. The demon still ignored the fans, it wasn't his aim to be their entertainment.

The wolf was quick, although Razel wasn't putting forth much of an effort to begin with. It happened suddenly, the demon stopped and pushed off in the other direction. Shifting step-by-step in a way to position himself closer to the center of the ring.

His eyes attentively watched his opponent while seamlessly gliding over the stone. Still, the energy within poured freely with growing intensity.

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 3

Getting to the center wasn't a must for Razel and he stopped once he was satisfied with a position that would prevent him from being easily charged out of bounds. There he watched with narrowed eyes and a smug grin for the wolf to come.

While his opponent carefully advanced Razel stepped back with his right foot, stood sure, and held out his hand level with his face. When the primal neared about ten feet away the demon pulled his wrist back and motioned with his index finger beckoning the wolf closer.

As his hand rolled inwards his fingers curled in with the thumb and middle finger pressed lightly together. At the apex he suddenly flicked his wrist forward and snapped his fingers. With the sound barely audible underneath the crowd, hellfire was sparked from that simple, effortless action.

No bigger than a baseball, it traveled quickly through the air with a flaming tail appearing like a miniature comet that was inevitably going to crash into the primal's face. It happened in a flash, those in the crowd who blinked might have even missed it.

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 3

Razel's smirk didn't falter as the wolf ducked below the fireball. He expected it, this was a tournament after all. He figured the primal would continue his advance, and he was correct with his assumption. The demon watched the knife come ever so closer and wondered just where the wolf might want to stick it.

His keen perception caught the twitch of the primal's arm and once he discerned the blade's intended path he reacted immediately. With a single fluid movement he lowered his hand down to his waist while his right foot stepped forward and carried him out of harm's way.

His knees slightly bent, his body slanted right, he easily evaded the knife and engaged the fight.

As he dodged the knife aimingt to remove his hand, his long tail whipped into life. The spade darted underneath the man's right arm during his thrust, and before it returned to guard, it attempted to tightly coil around the upper forearm. The grip was impressive, undoubtedly crushing, and was combined with a violent upward jerk to yank the wolf off his feet.

Meanwhile, as the wolf guarded high, the demon aimed low, and his right hand swung for an attack from below. Though just before it would connect, he forced from wrist his very own bone to rip through his flesh.

It would taper to a point about a foot away from his knuckles and was closing in to disembowel the poor wolf's intestines.

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 3

The wolf would find it difficult to regain control of his arm as the deceptively strong tail resisted the primal's struggle. The tail kept tugging in such a way to hold the arm in place, preventing it from returning to guard and from attempting another attack. With whatever way the wolf tried to guide his arm, the tail acted as if it had a mind of its own and made a slight adjustment to pull an opposing way. All the while, it constricted tighter with hopes that the pressure on the forearm would disarm the wolf of his knife.

The effects of the shout went virtually unnoticed, the demon possessing a mental fortitude well beyond what could be considered normal. In fact, the edges of his lips seemed to crack in delight as he just assumed the wolf was crying in anguish.

A spike through the hand wasn't a good thing for the primal, and Razel took this as assurance for his victory. He eyes didn't move when he felt the hold of the wolf's hand, nor did he try to fight it. If it were radiating heat, the demon wasn't able to tell. It was his natural element.

But the wolf might not have been as lucky, as the demon's right hand was as hot as a stove. For a normal person, a brief touch was enough to cause a blistering sting, but holding on for a few seconds was not only painful, but could be very damaging.

--

Incinerating Touch lv. 3

A disgruntled figure rested his chin upon the seat infront of him, hands tucked deep into his pockets. Hunched over in what looked to be a quite uncomfortable position was Vash. He had come today to see what his potential opponents could do. So far he was not happy with what he saw. One was ugly as fuck scorpion looking thing and the other was some sort of demon. He cursed himself on the inside for having such dumb luck to alway have to fight some random creature of the abyss. "Why the hell cant I fight someone who at least looks like me. I mean damn, is it too much to ask to fight someone who doesn't have a malicious laugh or has a tail made of steel? What happened to the days where you could walk into the back alley and find some random fucker wanting to throw down in a good ole street brawl. AND, if he so happened to have some random sci-fi ability, it wasn't an ability that involved mutating into a random cross between a horsefly and a fucking zebra..." Vash continued to mutter to himself, fuming steadily, despite the odd glances he received from his neighbors. He wasn't happy at all.