Clocktower

CLOCKTOWER

Inside the great clocktower of Durem, combatants fights atop of giant moving gears as time flies by around them.

Terrain

General - Reduced balance due to constant rotating gears

Weapons - None

Natural Element Resource - None

Bonus Effects - None

So this was to be it, was it? The end of this little dance with death that had began exactly one year ago on this very day; the day the Vice-Captain of a fighter team came face to face with the proxy of Death upon Gaia. The day that fighter became branded with an inescapable mark that sealed his fate to the hands of the Reapers.

No... this was not to be the end, only another milestone along the road. Here, in this Clockwork Purgatory, was the day that Ryugin once more crossed paths with the Reapers.

"Tch."

The Captain of Team a** Tear brushed past people in the crowd as he headed towards the door. Even though there was a taped off area so that the contestants and judges wouldn't have to deal with the crowds, Joshua wasn't really one to follow tradition. Wearing a loose bomber jacket and a pair of dark shades, nobody in the crowd seemed to recognize him as he pushed past them. The tournament security even stopped him as he ducked under the tape and began walking towards the door - at least, until they recognized him and hastily backed off.

People gave room to a man with no smile and the potential to level a city.

The sound of the crowd roaring was enough to drown out the sounds of helicopters overhead; circling the tower with news crews inside, hoping that their cameras might be the first to get a shot through a window or a broken section of wall that the other networks just weren't carrying. Like a pack of vultures.

The Captain grunted, sliding the shades up onto his forehead as he watched them and listened to the sounds of a bloodthirsty civilization. His eyes shut, having had enough of the bright sun, and for a moment he just listened to the world.

"Oh yes... there will be blood."

And the crowd cheered.

Durem.

A wastleland of crime, pollution, and garbage, both human an otherwise. Just a few block away sirens still flashed from where 4 city blocks and one entire office building had been entirely wasted.

A smirk could been seen beneath the shadow of a hood.

Maximos stood in front of the hatch at the roof of the giant machination, a black and white box lay at his feet. Below him stood dozens of camera' crews, his teamates, Ryugin and....him.

He knew this day had to come, eventually it would come back to him.

With a scrape his booted foot kicked the box into the hatch, completing the motion with a step, off the ledge into the hatch. And down he went. He couldnt just let the contents of the cooler go splat but gravity would pull it first so he had to make this giant machine work for him. The best way to learn ones terrain is to use it.

A quick flip followed by a twist in mid air let him dodge a support beam, and slip right between the cogs of a massive gear before it crushed him.

Two hands gripped a horizontal shaft turning two gears, using it as a gymnastic bar Maximos gripped it and swung, his two feet coming up to catch the dropped box and flick it back up into the air giving hm a few more precious seconds. Those seconds were used to complete the loop on the bar, releasin with enough force to drive him downward again. With a smack two feet landed on a gear, Maximos ran down it as if hurrying down a flight of stares, kicking off the gear onto another, and then another and then another in rapid sucession, hopping between gears to drop himself lower and lower.

With a clop, he landed on a flat gear, reaching his hands out to catch the glistening box...only to miss.

With a woosh the prize when carrening down into a tight mess of cogs...he had to follow. He dove down the center of the gear, twisting slightly, flipping, and then arching his back just barely dodging a series of twitching cogs. Click...click...click...the second ticked away, a gear closed just behind the box. His hands smacked on its surface, absorbing the impact and shoving him back and off, into a back flip, right onto a long vertical shaft. Using his momentum he spun around, gripping the shaft with his hands but using his feet to add exta pull...the team was about to come into view. The box was just out of range, it was a risky gambit, but he had no choice! With a jerk of his legs he launched himself off the pole, soaring downwards, with a last minute snatch of the arms he grabbed the box. His right leg flung out, just in time to nimbly land smack on the catwalk.

And for him to play off the difficulty by gracefully stepping on...the box slipping out of his hands and smacking onto the catwalk with a loud thunk. The ice in the cooler had begun to melt, and leather gloves just dont grip that well...

Destiny waits for no man, Maximos had arrived.

The chimera just sort of squatted on a smaller gear as it spun around. If he hopped off, he would have been real dizzy, since the tiny hairs in the ears were all moving in one direction with the rotation, his balance would have been thrown off as soon as he stopped.

Joshua Wrote:

"Nice place you've got here."

"Not really..." Tzenidaar cut in. The place was alive, but at the same time, completely dead. It moved, it made sounds, it rumbled a little, even ticked, but there was no life, each and every gear and cog, it was cold, dead.

"So who we fightin' today, boss?" Tzenidaar asked as he leaned forward until he would fall onto the large gear below. He didnt try to get up until a while later for his body to adjust to the movement again, and then he would reach out and grab the railing of the catwalk as the gear would pass so that he may stop onto stable ground.

But the question wouldnt really have to be answered, as the captain of the other team would step in at that moment and do some arrogant act or so. Too bad the problem was that Tzenidaar was too busy puking out the large amount of alcohol he had imbibed beforehand over the railing and down into the lower parts of the tower. Hangovers and other effects of alcohol weren't too big of a deal to him, he seemed to recover quickly, but spinning around the whole time and then stopping would disorient anyone, it was simply the way the body worked.

[Final Fantasy 7 - Seven Degrees of Judgment]

Joshua stood at the axis of the center gear, his arms folded over his chest as he looked up over the rim of his shades at the catwalk leading out from the stairs... people were ascending them; he could see the flicker of their souls through the wall as they climbed the staircase. The first to arrive was the Ryugin Captain... but he wasn't the one that mattered.

The gear rotated around again as Joshua waited... slowly spinning in its path as it carried the TAT Captain with it in a circle. Moonblade was still the only one to arrive when it brought Joshua back to where he had been... thirty seconds it took that gear to turn fully.

The suspense was terrible, wasn't it?

"Where are your lackeys?" he shouted, the words echoing off of every turning cog in the cavernous interior of their Clockwork Purgatory.

The Captain would wait until the sound of his words died down before he spoke again, in a low, grave tone.

"There is a marked man among you."

A man marked for death.

"Bring him to me."

Bring him or face the consequences.

"Today is his day of judgment."

He would not move from that spot until the Ryugin sent their sacrifice. He would not leave the ring until the Ryugin sent him the marked man. They would hand him over, or Joshua would crush whatever proxy the coward sent in his place until there were none left to hide behind.

The Captain laughed.

"You wouldn't last a minute."

That couldn't be true, not judging by what he had shown in the last round. Maybe five minutes, but there was no way he would beat the captain of a team in under a minute. Not unless -

"If you come out here right now, I'll not hold anything back."

His neck snapped to the side, issuing out a crack that would have been heard even at the bottom of the stairwell as the vertebrae reseated themselves.

"No games. No mercy. I will tear you up."

Silver Moonblade Wrote:

Or else...

Nothing.

Maximos couldnt help but laugh from his perch on the cat walk. Just a little chortle, it was more sad than funny. Sure, he could see that swirl fo red as Silver got oh so riled up. And then he stopped...sure, he would play it off as overconfidence....but Joshua would have fought him, irregardless of the rules. Silver didnt stop because of his "supreme control", he stopped because he was afraid.

Even Tzennidar could have told the difference between a man who would have loved to get into the ring for himself, and a man who was relieved that the person in front of him had not called him out.

Silver had talk, but zero walk.

He had made the mistake of running off at the mouth, without backing it up. Joshua had a word for people like that...Maximos had learned it the other night...

Punk.

It fit.

How much better of person he would be if he had just remained silent, and let his skills talk for him. But then again...some cannot act the part of someone they are not.

The Shadow didnt feel the need to "trash talk", he just watched letting out a chuckle. All view of his eyes was gone save for a non-descrip white glow in his right eye, for all any watcher knew, he was laughing at a joke that just refreshed in his mind. Though in truth he was laughing at a joke he had just seen.

He turned around, leaning his back against the safety rail, there as nothing to see yet. Nothing really worth the effort. He wasnt here.

"Ptew... Ungh... -BEEP-" Tzenidaar pushed himself up from the railing without even a thought of where the vomit would had fallen, maybe on someone who had entered the tower, maybe not. Luckily, those in control of the cameras and sound would have blipped out his... colourful vocabulaty.

He turned around as he spat out whatever aftertaste there was in his mouth to look at the guy from the other team and his big talk.

Maximos could be thinking it, but Tzenidaar would be saying it.

"So what? You need your teammates to come back you up? You SCURR'D?"

Maximos didnt say a word, but then again he didnt need to say a word. This was beyond that. With gentle steps, and the clack of boots against the metal grating of the cat walk, Maximos turned around.

That eye, that one eye peered down through the hood at his target, at that one man, at him. His cheeks bent ever so slightly to reveal a grin.

Thats was all that need be said about that. It was agreeance, it was understanding, it was that click beyond what words allowed. There was no need for threats or challenges, in eye contact they understood each others strength.

A fated battle would be held here today. For now they need only wait.

He would glance over at the arrival of another one of the opposing team- this glance would reveal Cristopher's intentions and would cause Stryphe to then look over at Maximos.

"Hey, Josh!" Stryphe interjected from the catwalk, "Obviously the guy's not having it- let Maxi in."

He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a brutally smash pack of cigarettes he'd picked up off the mall floor days ago. He did what little he had to do to rip open the top of the pack and start doubtfully fishing through the remains.

"Or me- maybe smiley over there won't find me quite so intimidating. Either way we'll be one step closer to getting our BBQ on."

The Captain at center stage watched, arms folded over his chest... and at long last, he cracked a smile.

"You made me wait, bad form... now come down here and fight for whatever pride you have. None of you are afraid, is that it? Good."

He threw up a finger, pointing it directly at the Ryugin captain.

"Special rules! Anyone on your team can step in whenever they want if they feel this son'b***h needs one of you to save him. Do you accept?"

If they agreed, they would have the advantage of numbers; making the fight more or less a 4 vs. 1 in the Clockwork Purgatory.

Tzenidaar hopped up onto the railing, wings opening up for a second to adjust his balance before folding back, revealing the tattered black cloth which lined the insides of them and formed something of a membrane, it even dripped a little. Squatting - he seemed to do that a lot rather than stand around, lean on something, or even sit down properly - he perched himself up to watch the fight.

He couldnt help but wonder, with such odd speculations, that the bossman had something up his sleeve.

So this was now effectively a battle royal in the Durem clocktower. Not quite, just yet, but if one person from either team jumped in things could get messy pretty fast. Then again, there was also a solid chance that not a single extra person would make a move. Stryphe would be hard pressed just to control himself, having not fought in the last round. Simply put, he was beyond ready for a fight.

He popped a crooked, sorry looking cigarette into his mouth and shoved the doomed pack back into one of his jacket pockets.

Forget the mark, forget the itch. Forget the crowd and the tournament. Forget the doubts that others had. None of that mattered. The ring, the opponent, and the fight, that was all that remained...

Ryugi didn't even bother to return the man's gesture with one of his own. He hopped onto the battlefield, landing on a gear some distance from his opponent, moving along it to keep his steady position, hands at the ready.

Joshua...

His left hand slipped up to his shoulder; gripping around the hilt of a sword sheathed across his back... a sword that had not tasted blood in years. Not a single man in Gaia had ever made him draw that weapon in battle.

It cried as it was pulled from the sheath. The blade hummed with a piercing ring, even held in the air between them in that Clockwork Purgatory.

"Defend yourself." Joshua advanced, holding the sword between them with the tip up.

A defensive stance? Maybe he was scared after all... or maybe...

[1]

The next move was a simple thrust. Ryugi had drawn a weapon in the time that it had taken for Joshua to cross the distance between them in the Clockwork Purgatory. He did not slow his pace, and kept his right arm at his side, with the left holding the blade just as he had.

If Ryugi did nothing to actually respond to his advance, it would continue until the tip of the blade was pressed to Ryugi's throat, and then beyond. However, now that Ryugi had drawn a weapon things were officially underway, and if the boy made any movement to either dodge or attack now that the weapon was in his hand, Joshua would thrust the tip of the sword towards the underside of the boy's chin.

Defensive stances were made to be broken. Any movement to defend would leave an opening to attack, the only question as where that opening would present itself.

[2]

There was one sound that followed, and it was naught but the light scuff of Joshua's boot sole against the gear.

Ryugi had let him advance slowly and had done nothing to press his stance or force him to move any faster than that walk he had begun. Unless he was at a run, Joshua's stance provided adequate footing to be able to adjust as needed without throwing his balance off, even with the slow turning of the Clockwork Purgatory upon which they stood.

The boy had performed a sidestep dodge with a bust of momentum; a maneuver that had quite a bit of potential, but only if utilized properly.

The tip of Joshua's blade struck the afterimage, and snapped to the side immediately. The light thrust would have been enough to pierce flesh, it was in no way a feint, but the style of swordplay that is used with a rapier-type sword was not one of forceful movements; the strikes emphasized grace and a flow of motion.

His elbow turned to the side, his stance dropped almost fully, and the sword screamed for blood as it cut through the air in a half-circle arc. First dropping down nearly to the ground as Joshua went into his sudden crouch, and then coming up from below.

Ryugi had stepped into an offensive stance. With a heavier sword this meant that he had it held back in preparation for a strike, or held in a high guard to bring down upon the head of an enemy. In either case the tip of Joshua's sword would sail right under it and for the boy's midsection.

[3]

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

The blurred speed of Ryugi helped to disguise -

• absolutely nothing.

The boy was running scared, hiding behind tricks and illusions. Joshua was a straightforward individual; he liked things that delivered what they promised, and didn't try to sneak around the back way. And above all, he hated cowards who hid behind their illusions.

Ryugi's tricks had bought him three feet. Joshua stood three feet back from where he had been, with blood running over the left side of his face. His left hand dropped, letting his sword fall onto the turning gear with a metallic clatter.

The boy wasn't worth it. Maybe he'd expected too much from someone that had earned a mark like that... maybe the boy was just a victim of circumstance, and had taken a few too many steps past the sign that said 'keep off the grass'... But clearly, the boy wasn't worth soiling her finish on him.

"Still running away, are you? Afraid to stand your ground? Alright... we can play that way, then... If you want to run..."

The Captain rolled his head on his shoulders and clenched his fists at his sides.

Anyone who had watched Joshua in the earlier fight, and any eyewitnesses to what had happened in Durem months ago would attest: Joshua used an open-fist fighting stance, using palm strikes rather than fists. This was something completely different.

A drop of black blood dripped from his cheek and landed beside his boot.

"I'll chase you."

No matter where you run... in this Clockwork Purgatory.

[4]

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

As Joshua would be recovering from the light blast, a semi-continuous blast of powerful flames would erupt towards his form, created by a rune of energy in front of Ryugi, and hidden from view by the flash of light.

The sword cut through the air between them, and the flames halted. The sword held patiently out to the side, and the flames turned back. The sword slid back into the sheath upon Joshua's back, and the flames washed over Ryugi like a firestorm.

Gale was her name, the sword in his hand... and she had power over the air. Before Ryugi could blink he would be set upon by his own attack turned back against him, and the driving force of the flame cyclone that was created by the combating winds would be more than enough to send a man of his size straight into the far wall.

Flame is nothing. Fire does not exist. Light and heat are what makes up fire, it is little more than burning gas... gas that is subject to the will of the air around it.

As promised, Joshua gave chase. He crossed the distance between where they had stood, crossed the gear where Ryugi had been sent back, and even charged blindly across the empty space between the edge of that spinning wheel and the wall of their Clockwork Purgatory.

If Ryugi was driven into the wall then Joshua's left fist would follow straight into his midsection as a blue-white aura engulfed it.

[5]

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

He landed in the middle of the ring, the Sol Blade in a defensive stance.

themightyjello Wrote:

As promised, Joshua gave chase.

• and the boy would be met with a glowing fist to the midsection no matter where he ran to in the Clockwork Purgatory.

[6]

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

It was one of Ryugi's most powerful attacks, and Joshua had charged right into it.

That was where he was wrong.

Joshua had charged right through it.

The energy that had gathered around his hand was of a certain type that was used for a number of things. One of which was creating barriers.

Around the fist the energy had gathered and molded into a shell over the hand, creating a gauntlet of positive energy that wrapped around the fist and the forearm entirely. As Ryugi's newest eruption flared up, the 'gauntlet' that had been created shifted into striking form.

Slamming someone with a raw mass of energy was crude and childish, not something fit for a high caliber fighter to do. True skill is refinement, not simply flailing about and hoping that something works. True skill is technique, not simply a bull rush. In the moment before it struck, the energy around the fist fired off like a rocket from behind and molded a barrier ahead.

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

a massive white rune would appear under his feet, encompassing both his and Joshua's forms before a massive pillar of pure and unbridled light energy would erupt from the rune under Ryugi

The energy flared out like a wedge, driving a rift in Ryugi's eruption attack even as the force of the blast sent them both skyward into the darkness above the Clockwork Purgatory. With both the added force of his own energy flying into the strike and the fact that Ryugi's rune was designed specifically to send him skywards, Joshua's little gutshot had turned into -

"SHORYUKEN!!!"

However, with the gut shot now being an uppercut, it would be at an angle that would drive the blade-like wedge that had formed ahead of the punch straight into Ryugi's chest, underneath whatever protection a breastplate might offer.

Excuse me, while I kiss the sky~!

[7]

Through all odds, Team Ryugin had made it to the next match. The intimidating structure of the clock tower loomed over the crowd of spectators. Nayko, feeling that twinge of anxiousness searing from his bowels, walked hastily towards the main entrance. A reporter, clad in a fine suit and wearing square spectacles stepped in front of him with a pen scribbling against a small note pad. “Excuse me, Nayko, how does it feel to be late for your next match? With both teams already competing, you stand to be the only member of either team not present, how does that take you?”

“Late?” Nayko hadn’t realized how long he had been out. He assumed, given the location of the sun hidden behind the clouds, that he’d have more than enough time. However, he found that, obviously, he was mistaken.

Quote: His left hand slipped up to his shoulder; gripping around the hilt of a sword sheathed across his back... a sword that had not tasted blood in years. Not a single man in Gaia had ever made him draw that weapon in battle.

It cried as it was pulled from the sheath. The blade hummed with a piercing ring, even held in the air between them in that Clockwork Purgatory.

That wail of wind and the scream of bloodlust struck the nervous angel with a fear beyond measure. His eyes turned toward the top of the clock tower and gazed at the slowly moving hands of the enormous clock face. Someone was fighting, right now. He needed to be up there with his team. Though he felt immensely weaker when compared to his teammates, he knew that his gift of tact would aid them considerably. Why take the stares when you have perfectly fine wings, he thought.

His pearled wings flared out brushing past a few spectators and knocking into the back of a reporter as he prepared for flight. “Forgive me!” He shouted as he leapt into the air. His heart raced with the anticipation of this next match. He no more wanted to go into this arena then he wished to fly head first into the mouth of Hell. It seemed that fate intervened with the choice of location. Time was the one thing Celestials didn’t ever worry about. They were immortal, in the sense that they never aged any more than they wished. How odd that the human’s patronized time by dedicating their short lives to it. Perhaps that’s why they worshiped angels and gods.

Quote: As Joshua closed, Ryugi's right eye would wince slightly, nearly imperceptibly, before a massive white rune would appear under his feet, encompassing both his and Joshua's forms before a massive pillar of pure and unbridled light energy would erupt from the rune under Ryugi, the metal of the gear melting slightly from the massive burst of searing heat before Joshua's fist could impact. It was one of Ryugi's most powerful attacks, and Joshua had charged right into it.

The shockwave from the blast nearly knocked Nayko right out of the sky. Veering away from the clock tower, he took a moment to regain his composure. That blast wasn’t something found in any normal fighter. Nayko knew it, because it roared in him like it did every other Celestial. The Holy Light of God was a blessing that the Seraphim gifted each newly ascended Celestial. For Ryugi to use it, meant that he was divine beyond Nayko’s own heavenly worth. His brother’s dear friend continued to surprise him, but not as much as the man Ryugi fought did. He pressed through the blast of pure energy as if it were a ray of sunshine on a summer’s day. These people, these hellish people, were of a caliber Nayko had never encountered. Then, before logic could cause him to flee, a strange sensation gripped his heart. He was curious; curious to know if he could best these strange demons. Demon! They were demons!

The years of persecution taught Nayko that any spawn from Hell must be eradicated from this world or the next. Pressing past his curiosity now flared an untamable urge to wrench their heads from their necks. Plunging forward through the sky, a roar of thunder signaled the coming of rain that poured from the clouds as if the heavens were bleeding. A surge of concentrated water piled in front of the sailing angel and crashed into the face of the clock and broke through the thick glass and wall. Nayko soared through opening like hawk swooping down to catch its prey. His body wet, and his wits about him, he maneuvered between two catwalks and drifted down onto a gear. Water dripped from hair and feathers and splattered across the gear he stood on. His eyes, blue and glowing with the commitment to purge the tower of evil, sought out Silver and Reinhart. He knew Ryugi would be able to pacify this Hell Spawn, but would the other foul and despicable creatures be able to subdue their rage and maintain a code of ethics within this sacred tournament?

Nayko refused to allow such barbaric and monstrous creatures the opportunity to subjugate his team, and newly found friends. Nayko’s honor for true testing of strength, and his obedience to the call of the Higher contested in his heart as he walked up the vertically rotating gear. Stepping onto the catwalk, the angel ushered himself to his captain’s side and inclined his head at the fight below. “Captain, do you realize that we are dealing with the abominations of man’s insurrection? These Hell Spawn will not hesitate to pounce upon Ryugi if he leaves himself open. We must be wary and prepare to go into battle ourselves. We mustn’t wager Ryugi’s life on the guidelines of the tournament. The Higher will bless us if we choose to vanquish these demons, so do not restrict yourself from slaying them immediately, sir.”

With his duty seeming to be fulfilled, Nayko turned to Reinhart and gave him a quick nod. His nervousness washed away with the water descending from his body. The four men of this disgraceful team each held an aura of unknowable power, and each one maintained the guise of superiority. Typical Hell Spawn, Nayko thought. He’d slain rabbles of demon, both pathetic and proud. He could take these four, so long as the Seraphim blessed them, they would come out victorious.

The fight had begun. As all battles, there was a hope for a surprise, a hope for interest...a hope that it wasnt boring. Maximos watched with that same smirk to see what champions He had chosen to ally himself with.

Power...power...power...power...

Thats all this boy had. Every attack aimed to either throw his opponent away from him, or make him flee. Could he even fight? Was that massive sword for display only?

Pathetic...

Maximos spat the word out in a deadly cold tone...a tone a particular Reaper had used not but a year before. Ryugi spent the entire time running...Joshua spent the time fighting. The wounds on Joshua's face, the sign of a fighter. The rush of Ryugi's feet...the sign of a coward.

This...was boring. And it showed. His cheeks drooped, the smile faded, and he gazed as if he was watching paint dry...the paint drying would have been more interesting...at least it would be going somewhere.

The Shadow couldnt even bear to look at this mockery. It was like watching a parent chase a child around the house trying to get him to take a bath...this was...pathetic. And through no fault of Joshua's, at least he was fighting, a real fight. But this dragon-boy didnt even have enough honor to give him that...

They say you learn alot about a man by the way he fights. Maximos had seen enough to learn all he would need to know about Ryugi. And his face showed it all.

He was disgusted.

His lips were stern, his cheeks held no joy. His eyes were forced to gaze down before as he was on a physically higher platform. Now he gazed down, as watching a barbaric wanderer insulting this contest with haphazard combat. The very same manuevers that cost him the match the year before.

He had seen enough, he turned around folding his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. He feared that his competition may have been spoiled by this...."company", he kept. Though his hopes were high.

Still the shadow had to ponder Ryugi's words...how did he know Tzen was a chimera? It was listed in no records. Maximos didnt even know. And no one, not a soul, called him by that name. It was like Ryugi had an amazing talent for knowing things no other human being knew.

What it really was...was annoying. For thousands of years of combat training, and all he had learned to do was talk big and run...

No wonder every member of this team save for one carried the stink of fear on them. Sure...they had been talked down to, but there efforts to prove the insults wrong were met with a building stack of evidence to prove there discreditors correct. Moonblade was more afraid of a disqualification than his own honor? A game over his own personal dignity? Sad. Ryugi claimed to not be afraid and spent the fight running...all this talk...if they had only accepted the challenge with respect, with honor, and did there best, they would recieve the same honor and respect...but no...Respect is earned not given.

Joshua had only extended the offer out of insult. Bullies usually needed to gang up in groups in order to have any strength...He wouldnt have been so hard if the man was at least trying...but he wasnt...he was running!

And these insults were sadly all they had earned. It wasnt that TAT was better, it was that there opponents seemed to refuse to be anything more than worse...

It struck Maximos with pity to imagine he was on that team.

A champion amongst children...the poor man...

themightyjello Wrote:

"SHORYUKEN!!!"

[2]Ryugi's red eyes shot open as the air was blasted out of his lungs, tinged with a bit of his blood. The sheer force of the punch caused Ryugi to fold inward, laying over onto the body of Joshua, but even as he folded, his mind fighting against the pain, he locked his arms around Joshua's arms and upper torso, holding onto him with all of his strength, the sharp points of Ryugi's gloves digging into whatever they could find to keep him fixed on Joshua's body...

[post 7]

I fight because...

The pair would seemingly float in mid-air, as if a moment in time in this Clockwork Purgatory had been frozen by the events unfolding here today. The grinding of gears, the tick-tock of the pendulums moving, everything seemed to slow as the fighters hung there, clamped together in an embrace of pain, blood, and bruises.

I have...

Ryugi's red eyes would shine for a moment, and glare with determination, even if he wasn't looking at Joshua, the man would be able to feel it on his person

S O M E T H I N G - T O - P R O T E C T ! ! !

Quote: (Special) F/L-H *Limit Release-

Ryugi uses his whole body as a portal to the Elemental Realms of Fire and Light to unleash a massive blast of flames, a famous "Battle Finisher", intense damage -1 turn preparation, 2 turn recovery with full exhaustion after- Note: Cannot be charged further for more damage

With a thunderous explosion of kinetic force and searing roiling energy, Ryugi's entire body turned into a conduit for the energy of his element, the full unbridled power of the fire plane raging and roaring from his body. The initial blast was so powerful, almost like a bomb, the shock wave it created would shatter the clock faces all around the tower as the city of Durem took another blow from yet another fighter with something to prove. The glass would be shot outwards with such force, it would even clear the crowd and spectators watching the fight below, to land harmlessly around the outer edges of the area.

The heat at the core of the eruption, one foot away from Ryugi's body, was nearly two-thousand five-hundred degrees Celsius, as hot as if not hotter than molten magma. The temperature dropped rapidly the father one got from Ryugi, as Ryugi was not one to cause undo harm to anyone other than his target, and since he held in as much heat as he possibly could to attack Joshua without killing him. Ryugi couldn't be one to say what would happen to his opponent, taking this massive attack usually reserved for taking out opponents at some sort of a distance, at literally point blank range, but most any normal human being would be turned to ashes by the intense heat. The gears around them melted from the intense heat, and all the while, Joshua would be clamped onto by Ryugi's vice-like grip, the eruption lasting a full three seconds...[4]

[post 8]

themightyjello Wrote:

"Is it worth it?"

"Is it worth the lives you will take?"

"Is that thing so damned important!?"

Joshua turned to face Ryugi. As he moved tears and cracks pulled open in his skin, shedding pieces of it as it crumbled. Blood flow stemmed from the open wounds and fell like black raindrops to the heated metal floor. Gobs of molten steel rained on both of them from the gears above, which had touched the sun. And yet... he was still smiling.

"Get up and give this an ending."

[6]The pain Ryugi had just faced was terrible. The wounds, mind numbing. But none of that mattered. NOTHING else mattered. He had to protect that thing, those things, no matter the cost.

More important...

Ryugi's body ached, but he shunted the pain to the side. He was battered, bruised, bleeding worse than ANYTHING else he'd ever had to face before. Blood dripped down the side of his mouth, and small cuts across his face as he dragged himself into a standing position against the cog as his red eyes seemed to burn into Joshua's. Despite the wounds, despite the pain, despite everything, Ryugi would NOT stop protecting that which he held dear. Not for anyone, not for anything. Nothing would stop him from fighting for it, nothing.

More important than...

A soft white aura began to flow over Ryugi's exhausted body as he stared at Joshua. Images of Ryugi's family, his loved ones, his teammates, his friends, everything and everyone he held dear flashed through his mind. He would protect them, and fight to continue to protect them. Anyone trying to get in the way of his mission, his resolve, his unbreakable resolve, he would put an end to...

Than anything else!

Quote: *Ascension-

Ryugi pushes his body and energy past its usual limits by charging himself with elemental power. This has no effect on his elemental attacks, but it ups all his base stats by 50% as he lets go of his inhibitions and fights with his full power against his opponent.

The aura would pulse slightly as Ryugi stood, fighting against the urge to lay down, the urge to fall. He was exhausted, but that would not stop him from fighting with everything he had!

Now! We FINISH THIS!!

And Ryugi charged towards Joshua, towards the end of the fight, with everything he had left in him.

[post 9]

[8]Ryugi's exhaustion was wearing off by now, but he was still tired. Then, there were the injuries to his midsection to consider. If not for his constitution and resolve, Ryugi probably wouldn't have been able to take three steps without gagging and vomiting. But he couldn't be bothered with that now. All that mattered now was to finish the promise...

Ryugi sped in towards Joshua, his white aura slowly becoming tinged with red and orange. As he grew closer he shot an open right fist towards Joshua's upper torso...

[post 10]

[10] The headbutt moved Ryugi in towards Joshua, but at the same time, Ryugi's left hand shot forward, gripping around the captain's shoulder as the headbutt slammed into Ryugi's head. But, as one Jack Slate would attest, Ryugi had a hard head. Ryugi saw stars, and a bloodied bruise appeared on his forehead as the move made contact, but not before Ryugi was busy preparing his own.

He KNEW his shot would be blocked, or avoided, all first moves are, but he was willing to take that risk to deliver a massively powerful shot to Joshua's body as well. As Joshua pulled him closer for the headbutt, Ryugi's left knee would shoot forward, blurred to an afterimage by the same boosting technique that Ryugi had used earlier to move his body away from Joshua's assault. As it moved, energy was pushed into Ryugi's leg, compressed, and as the pointed tip of the knee guard would be digging deep into Joshua's midsection, a massive blast of explosive force would explode away from the knee, and into the man's midsection as well, further amplifying the power of the shot...[6]

[post 11]

[12] Ouch. That REALLY hurt. And was pretty damn gross. Ryugi just hoped Joshua didn't have ADD or whatever that weird disease was that everyone was talking about on the news. But seriously, that was inconvenient. As Ryugi's neck was latched on to by the fighter-turned parasite, and his blood began to flow, Ryugi's spirit once more burned. He couldn't back down, not now! He was so close, he HAD to be! If his opponent was so desperate to heal himself Ryugi must have done considerable damage, more than he'd thought.

As soon as the man's fangs bit Ryugi's neck, Ryugi's left arm pulled back, the fingers of his hand extended straight out, glowing with energy, and shot towards Joshua's face along the side of his neck, but with a little something extra...

Quote: *Crystalization-

This technique was gained from Ryugi's travels in the fire elemental plane. The fire element is forced into a solid crystal that is on par with the hardness and sharpness of diamond, and due to the intense heat and pressure within the crystals, they have massive cutting power, easily capable of piercing the thickest and hardest of materials with relative ease. Even solid metal cannot withstand these crystals for long. If so chosen, the crystals can cut into a solid force, and then explode for massive damage to an opponent. -50 damage for each crystal exploded, can be created from ambient flame energy and energy from aura-

*Adamant’s Claws-

Two light energy claws form up around Ryugi’s forearms and hands offering close combat damage, slashing damage, and burning damage. This technique also allows Ryugi to create solid weapons made of compressed light energy or light/holy energy weapons in order to attack targets, or defend himself from injury – 2 turn charge to activate-

[10] Improvising the basic principle of his "Adamant's Claws" technique and applying it to his "Crystallization" technique, Ryugi attempted to remove Joshua from him. The energy glowing around Ryugi's left hand crystallized and extended into a crystalline blade roughly five inches long, and razor sharp that sped towards the small gap between Ryugi's neck, and Joshua's face. If Joshua didn't let go, Ryugi would carve his face away from his body with the razor sharp, searing hot cutting tool. The heat from the crystal was almost hotter than the massive fireball that had burned Joshua in the first place, and the strike would be amplified as Ryugi pushed as much power into the carving tool as he could...

[post 12]

themightyjello Wrote:

"Your knives..." [12]

It appeared Ryugi's assumption based on TV footage was wrong... Apparently he really COULDN'T believe everything he saw on TV. So much for that idea. But as Joshua spoke the crystal knife on Ryugi's left hand dissipated, and Ryugi's left hand gripped Joshua's face tightly, slipping to his neck as he grasped and pulled hard with a massive burst of strength as he tried to remove the man's face from his neck area, assisted by his right hand as it wrapped its way around to the front, and pushed off hard with its own force as an aura of powerful heat began to build up within Ryugi's body...

[post 13]

Well, that was it. Ryugi had taken everything he could take. He'd been battered, bruised, pulverized, and pounded to the point of exhaustion by his opponent. Ryugi was strong, and strong-willed, but try as he might, he just wasn't a match for his opponent's healing factor. But even as he fell backwards onto the gear, and drifted to unconsciousness, it wasn't a total loss for the dragon. He'd put up a decent fight for his team, and he'd showed that he COULD stand up against impossible odds.

Ryugi had grown from the fight, regardless of the outcome. He'd fought for his goal, and that in and of itself was enough of a win for him. His other teammates could handle the rest. He had enough faith in them for that.

[post 14 - Match End]

((Good fight Josh))

"Wake up!"

Ryugi would find himself being jabbed in the side.

"Mister Kazamaru, wake up!"

A small body flopped onto his shoulders, pulling on his hair and rattling his head around from side to side.

Fight end.

When he was watching the fight, he didnt say anything, he didnt move, he simply watched, just absorbing every bit of information he could distinctly point out, not only from Ryugi, but from Joshua as well. Information was information, it didnt matter who it came from.

Team Ryugin: Silver Dragons, ranked second place in the first Heaven or Hell tournament. Such information didnt come to his realisation until sometime in the middle of the fight between Joshua and Ryugi, as the first opponent he had noticed, the captain, Silver Moonblade, didnt make any real significant contribution last year to be recognizable. If that last display was what they were bringing last year, then Tzenidaar wondered how they even advanced that far. Yes, he had done some minor research on the tournament when he got involved; particularily the teams which placed first and second, those which would be considered the teams to beat. The teams he might actually care about.

So far, it didnt seem so impressive.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Who's next?"

Tzenidaar simply looked to either side at the rest of the team which hadnt fought yet. And he was pretty sure everyone wanted to get things going.

"Well... you already picked up a win boss, but I'm sure we all want to play as well." he muttered, counting off the rest of the oposing team which remained; three people. And on Team a** Tear, four were still conscious, though one had already fought.

And then, he revealed a surprising display of his inherited intellect, "By the the new rules instated, technically, this fight is a four on four match. However, I do believe it is safe to say that with neither of us thinking to interfere in another's fight, we can take on one opponent each at the same time. The only problems is the limited amount of space in this tower, unless the lower sections and the roof may be used for combat as well, and the fact that there are suppose to be only three fights, not four.

"However, due to there being only three fights which count, and three of us, with that one victory picked up by the capt'n, one of such fights will not count towards the final decision...

You guys up for a speed contest?" Tzenidaar spoke the final line of his analysis of the new rules for this fight to the rest of Team a** Tear, "Of course, thats only if the judges allow it, due to the size restraints of this building." If they would take this on, it was a race between themselves to see who would finish their fights first.

Of course, he spoke loud enough for the other team as well as the judges to know his intention.

Teamwork? Pft, did such a thing even exist for Team a** Tear?

Outside his mind, Ryugi was safely back with his team and resting, thanks to the help of his teammate and friend Nayko. However, in his mind, apparently some weird things were going on...

• *

Ryugi opened his eyes to the poking and prodding and the rattling of his head.

Jeez... Ok ok... Who's poking me?

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

Ryugi opened his eyes to the poking and prodding and the rattling of his head.

Jeez... Ok ok... Who's poking me?

"Good morning, Mister Kazamaru."

The child climbed off of him and hunkered down on her haunches beside his head. She was exactly the same as before, nothing had changed at all; she wore the same polished shoes, the same black satin dress, and her skin was still so pale as death itself.

"I trust you're feeling... well."

Tzenidaar's answer to the captain's question did not come in words. He pointed at Moonblade, captain of the opposing team with one hand.

And so it was, that the chimera had picked out the captain of the other team to fight. He did not just want to pick up a victory, he wanted to take something else; mark the man by wearing something which belonged to him, exactly as he had taken some of Sierra's shed feathers and decorated the end of his small pony tail and the top of his left ear with, woven into his short hair. Primitive. Tribal.

Captains usually just so happened to represent a team as a whole.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Good morning, Mister Kazamaru."

"I trust you're feeling... well." Actually... Now that you mention it, I feel...pretty good.

Ryugi felt pretty good, considering he just got a crazy beating. That was...odd.

By the ADAMANTS WHAT IS GOING ON!?

That just wasn't normal, it was just plain weird. How often did you see your own body simply sitting down below where you were? Needless to say, Ryugi had never had an "Out of Body Experience" before. There were just some things most people didn't come up against in their own lives, even if they were long-lived. Some things just...usually didn't happen.

Well, yes.

Ryugi calmed himself a bit, perhaps not too surprisingly noticing the other two across the way. Least he wasn't dead.

Mainly, as you might expect, the mark on the back of my neck. What is it, what is its purpose, and what's its significance?

The questions weren't demanding, more curious and inquisitive. Sure, the subject made Ryugi a little nervous, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't get anywhere demanding an answer to his questions. Plus, that wasn't exactly polite.

Well, the collar was strange, but in this strange place, Ryugi supposed that many things were possible. Maybe the collar served as an identification marker to someone, much like a collar that humans placed on their pets to identify them.

Unfulfilled Destiny...? My ancestors? I don't mean to sound daft, but I don't understand.

Then again, it seemed that whenever Ryugi asked someone about the mark, it seemed he wasn't meant to understand it's meaning. Though, he hoped that might change with this strange encounter.

As usual the answer was cryptic, but it was an answer. Nonetheless, it still left Ryugi with more questions than answers. These sorts of things always seemed to turn out this way...

I'd ask for a more specific answer, but I have a feeling that that is all you'll be sharing with me for a while.

Ryugi grinned as he finished. He wasn't expecting a flat out answer, but the conversation had gone quicker than he'd thought.

I suppose you're right...on both accounts. We are a sum of our decisions and experiences.

Ryugi stood up and cracked his neck, out of habit, not like that really did anything in his spirit form. He sighed, then turned to face her again.

Thank you, Lady Jennifer, for everything.

Silver was actually relived when Tzenidaar called him out; if he had to listen to any more childish bickering, he'd probably kill one of his own teammates. Ryugi's defeat was a minor set back, but these things happened. He didn't necessarily approve of the display his comrade showed, it wasn't really all that bad. You have to be true to your own style, otherwise there's no point in fighting at all.

They were far from out of this competition; they just had to fight that much harder.

Without any further delay, he stepped onto the massive cog Ryugi had lost conscience on. Assuming someone moved him, anyways. The differing speed of rotation on the cogs would only server to disorientate him, but at least he'd be on the same level with his opponent. If he could just keep his footing, he should do just fine.

"Let's do this thing. There are others that want blood today."

Gripping the weapon on his back with his right hand, he awaited his opponent. It was clear that he would draw it the second the Chimera entered the "ring", or at least step forward. He grinned; there would be none of that "waiting for the first move" crap. Either Tzenidaar would come in guns-a-blazing or Moonblade would jump him.

Seeing Ryugi awake, Joshua huffed.

"Shoulda taken his wallet..." he said under his breath.

"Yo~" The Captain glanced to the side at his team and spoke jokingly. "I'll be right back. Don't get yourselves killed."

Then, taking a piece of chalk from his pocket, he began making an etching around the door to the stairwell. It took only a few moments; drawing long, arching lines around the frame... and then walked through it. The etchings glowed brightly for a moment, and then he was gone from the Clockwork Purgatory.

Where had he gone?

When would he return?

Well... they would just have to find out.

"Gee... let me think about that for a NO."

Like anyone would be surprised by the first answer. Before he even started to answer the second question he bolted forward, leading with his left. As he closed in, he turned his right side forward and thrust Dragoonair towards the Chimera's mid section. Being relatively short, 5'6", he would have the advantage of nimbleness. That didn't change the fact that this attack wouldn't be overly difficult to avoid, nor did it change the answer he gave as he struck out.

"The worst beatings are the ones you don't see coming."

[1. Let the Bloodbath begin.]

Silver bent under the first one, following through with charge. As the second one was fired, he leaped forward. This wasn't so much of a jump than a huge step, so the substance clipped his left shin. The force of the negative energy wasn't enough to knock him off his feet, though this would totally mess up his landing. Fortunately (or unfortunately from an evasion standpoint), he was well into the process of ramming his weapon into his opponent. Unless the chimera moved, but that was an entirely different story.

This was already getting interesting. Just what WAS this thing?

Catching his fall with his left palm, Moonblade would immediately push back and force himself to a standing position. Besides his feet, his legs never fully hit the ground. It was unknown what the substance would do to him; it could be acid for all he knew. Unfortunately, Silver only had so many hands.

[2]

~KKKCCCHH!

The instant Silver caught himself, he felt the excruciatingly sharp pain of his shoulder being torn asunder. That was the major flaw of Moonblade's acrobatics; it's almost impossible to change direction in midair. Though his breastplate was apparent, it was purely decoration. It may even serve to increase the damage as metal shards were jammed into the arm as the bone punched through it.

But things were just kicking off. The chimera was fooling himself if he thought this was anywhere near over.

As expected, blood oozed directly out of the wound. But what the monster might not expect is the blood to turn into a deadly current of super-heated energy a split second later. This was a reactionary spell, one Moonblade sometimes used when he received a deep wound at close quarters. The putrid liquid had a nasty habit of coursing through it's victims, damaging them from the inside out. It also had a nasty habit to do more harm than good, but in this situation he would have lost the blood eventually anyways.

On the bright side, it would cauterize the wound nicely.

As much as he'd love to stab Tzenidaar in the face, he'd have to focus on getting out of the situation first. Inhaling deeply, he tried to desensitize himself from pain completely. He needed complete focus to pull this off. It all depended on what Tze did next.

[3]

The searing heat of Moonblade's blood would not affect Tzenidaar too much, as he previously displayed his strong resistance to heat and fire in his first fight during the Heaven or Hell tournament. The edges of the hole would be seared shut, however, the bone would still be impaling the man's shoulder.

With the ball and joint socket of his left shoulder punctured, the arm was essentially useless. The bone would simply be like a wedge, preventing the shoulder from moving, even if tearing the ligaments were not enough. Additionally, the gelatinous liquid which is used to lubricate the joints held in pockets around the joints of a body would have been exposed as soon as it tore into the man's arm. If the bony appendage was to be removed, there would still be the gaping hole which would remain exposed, as flesh would be cauterized around it by searing hot blood, allowing the goop to escape.

Useless information picked up by the writer from a butchery class? The author thinks not.

However, as soon as Moonblade cried out in pain, if he even did with something ripping through his shoulder, Tzenidaar would take the opportunity of distraction to have his left wing shoot forward exactly as the right wing had, this one aiming for the man's right shoulder instead, in the same action, into the socket between the bones which made up the shoulder.

However, there was a slight difference this time, as once a person witnesses an attack, they tend to look out for it in case they would become victim again.

Kraun Wrote:

I HAVE YOU NOW.

Already, Tzenidaar was confident that this fight was over, even as the man declined his offer to let him forfeit.

Confidence; the emotion which manifests itself as air. Movement. Force.

Quote: Boost: With a short powerful burst of air, Tzenidaar’s actions and movements carry more force and are quicker.

Quote: Pressure Cutter: Cutting away the air pressure in a small area, Tzenidaar is able to make attacks at an accelerated rate. Alone, this ability is not of any significant use; however it does allow him to tear through large amounts of generated air pressure that is present, effectively cutting through it. Essentially, this allows him to break through defenses set up by force in the open air.

It would be like a gunshot, only not. There was no barrier of air to create a sonic boom, so canot be said whether or not the limb shot out fast enough to rival a bullet and break the sound barrier.

The second appendage would be usd to tear into the man's other shoulder just after the first one had ripped into him.

If such an attack was successful, again, Moonblade's right hand may even just drop the weapon he was holding onto.

Meanwhile, Tzenidaar would land on his feet, legs bending slightly from the landing, pressing the giant meat cleaver down with his arms to force the spear further downwards between his legs, unless Moonblade dropped it, then it would be on the floor in the same position.

3

The weapon wasnt too big of a priority. Of course, getting rid of it would be nice, but rather, the man's ability to defend himself was the primary target of his attacks.

Either way, puncturing the man's shoulders were only one half of the attack he would perform to do this. Even if he had destroyed the man's ability to use his shoulders, his elbow and hands worked on a different system of muscles and tendons, still available for use, even if movement to them would affect the shoulder and cause extreme pain, if the man could feel pain or if he could ignore it altogether.

As such, as soon as the second wing's tip drove forward and missed, they would flare up with a short burst of negative energy, starting from his shoulder blades where the appendages were connected, running own their lengths to the very tip before disappating. He was not forming a wing, he was using it to transfer the energy directly into the man's ound. The result; unless Moonblade could ignore the effects of negative energy, the area around the puncture wound would be destroyed as it was sucked dry of life as the energy passed through it and shot out his back where the wing's tip was. Blood vessels would explode, flesh would dry out and wither, bones would become brittle.

Negative energy was the one form of energy Tzenidaar could consciously control due to his development based mainly on that man, unlike the other abilities he possessed, which were manifested only through his emotions and mindset. However, unlike Joshua, he did not have precise control of it. Sure, he could use it, but that didnt mean he could define its shape and size accordingly. The burst of energy would be like a storm; chaotic. It didnt have a specific and controlled effect like affecting the shoulder only, instead, it would spread through the area just a little.

Considering the fact that the left side of the body is usually what houses the heart in the chest area, such an action was dangerous. The organ would not be close enough to be directly affected, however, the main arteries and veins which attached to the heart did go upwards. They just might be damaged, or they might not, but it was not close enough to the heart to do much to directly affect it. Additionally, the upper portion of the left lung may just be brushed by the outer disappating spread of the negative energy, maybe not. It all depends what the oppenent says about it.

Now, as to the actions taken...

If Moonblade was not affected at all by the sudden destruction of his arm during the flip, would still blow the flames at full force, and was able to ignore the sudden pain of having a section of his body wither away to throw a full forced punch, then the following would result.

Considering that speed was the name of the game, to end the fight as quickly as possible, even in the most brutal way possible, his actions were not done one at a time, they would be performed almost in unison. He didnt have time to waste, especially if he was competing against the rest of his team.

With his own weapon in his hands, right hand holding the hilt, left hand pressing against the flat of the large blade, he would swing it. His right hand would snap outwards as his left hand would push against it's tip, releasing a burst of air force against it to put it into swift motion. Normally, with such a heavy weapon, it would be an impossible action, his right hand would have its wrist twisted out of place, but the giant meat cleaver, with its semi-sentience, recognized the man as its owner, and its featherweight enchantment would be in effect. Seventy five pounds would only appear to be eight pounds to Tzenidaar, though it would still provide strain, it wouldnt be enough to break his wrist.

Now, with such a motion, he would swing it a little upwards, the initial aim was to smash the flat of the blade just below the wing with the burst of force placed behind it and the additional amplification of impacting force when it strikes, another enchantment on the weapon, it was designed to simply crush the right side of Moonblade's body, possibly breaking several ribs or his arm in the process as well as slamming him hard enough to launch him off of his wing.

However, if Moonblade would continue to flip to his left side at the time of such an action, it would either smash against his legs or groin prematurely in his flip and break whatever, or when he was upside down and breathing fire, completely smashing against the unprotectable left side of his head. Unlike the body, arms, or legs, the head didnt have the need to feel pain, with enough shock, such as a blow with amplified force, the brain would simply shut down.

Either way, once the weapon would strike, Moonblade would be flung off the wing with the blow.

And as for the fire, at a distance of about five or sic feet apart, it was skeptical whether or not it would even reach him in time to do more than just a flash against the right side of his face.

If it did strike fully, then the upper portion of the right side of Tzenidaar's head would blister and burn, like acid eating away at it before his body turned in the same direction and the captain of Ryugin would be forefully batted away. Accompanied of course, by a horrible anamilistic scream.

4

That was just the thing about Tzenidaar which everyone underestimated about him. His ability to move. At five foot ten, he was not much tallen than a lot of other people, and as for his two hundred pound body, it may be mostly muscle, but it was not the sort of muscle used for endurance, to press five hundred pounds or so. No, rather, his muscled were developed for explosive bursts of power. His strikes, his movements, were quick, powerful, more than people would ever give him credit for. He was essentially, a human in peak physical shape.

But that didnt matter. On the issue of the weapon, it was a preplanned attack to smash his side, but would result in something else. It didnt take the grace of his arm's dexterity, instead, it was simply using his arm as a fulcrum as the burst of force against the far end of the blade would put it into motion. It was relatively simple, the first part of the previously text was the result of a previous attack, the second part was an actual attack.

As the man would be flung away, Tzenidaar would drop the sword as his right hand went up to his face and he roared. It burned, not like heat, but as if the skin was melting. He thrashed around for but a second before his left arm would go up to his face, and with the metal plates on the bracer, he would scrape away the skin, ripping his own face apart to do so.

The vision in his right eye was tinged in red, either he was looking through the bright red liquid, or that his blood lust had taken over.

"I'm going to kill you." He said very simply. Black smoke seemed to escape from the corner of his mouth in a thin plume. And with a kick, he removed the spear from the area, sending it over the edge of the gear behind him as he whipped about to charge forward, his hands at his sides, open, claws positioned as if ready to rip the man apart, his skeletal wings folded back.

5

Blood oozed from the self inflicted wound in his head, trailing after Tzenidaar as he charged the man. Very simply, if no offensive move was made by Moonblade first, Tzenidaar was going to smash his body right into his, like a charging bull. His body would lower for just a moment before he would spring upwards, both arms crossing over his front to smash against the man's upper body and chest area with his forearms. His aim was to take him down, get in close quarters, and let the animals that lurks in the subconscious of all being go at it. The beast would be unleashed.

6

Everything around him came back into being as he'd shut out world out around him, his eyes shot open. That feeling, it was time, he knew it the moment their eyes met. Watching him raise his arm he knew what the simple gesture meant, the roof, it was their stage. No words, there were still no words coming from Reinhart, they weren't needed, not now, not yet. Without hesitation he pushed his back off the pillar and shot into the air in pursuit of his old friend, of him. Just as he displayed quite the acrobatic show coming down Reinhart performed it going up.

Seconds later he was gone, out of sight, away from both teams leaving Ryugin to its fate. Fate awaited him closer to the heavens this was comfirmed the moment he stepped foot on the stage. There he was, waiting, patient, their eyes would lock once more for a moment as the wind threatened to knock them off their feet.

Indeed there was a storm brewing, the clouds rumbled overhead, it was perfect.

As his hood and jacket wipped in the wind his hair and jacket mimicked the movements. There they stood, face to face, it was here, it was finally time, their fists would once again clash, the storm was no threat to the weakened tower. They were.

As in agreement or response a dark red glow came from Reinhart's right eye, the light easily visible through his hair trailed off him into the wind then dissapeared. It was a steady stream of energy leaking from him, his fingers moved at his sides as he watched and listened to those words, his words. He need not respond with words, their fight would be exactly as stated, fist, foot, blood, and bone. Like him sparks flared about his body, tendrils swirled around his arms, his fists balled suddenly and it was all gone.

Maximos Wrote:

Show me your true strength Reinhart!! The words rang in his ears, they echoed through his head, and there was no more restraint as his destined opponent made the first move. A whisper...

"Strength? What is strength? Will you show it to me....."

Reinhart finally let it all go and screamed the name of the man he'd been fated to see and fight again.

"...Maximos!!"

No sooner than the name left his lips he ran head first into Maximos' attack mirroring the man infront of him. His right fist cocked back at his side, step after step they looked as if they'd run into each other. Then just as they reached each other's range Reinhart's fist shot out just as his did. Everything had led up to this, this first moment, no teams, no Heaven, no Hell, no one else, just them and the rain.

Thunder.

Was it thunder or the force behind thier punches?

Their first attack was only a ripple in the ocean compared to what would come of this fight.

Pain.

It was both bitter and sweet as it was delivered and taken. No defense, no fear. Both men landed thier strike giving each other but a taste of things to come as fists landed on their mark. Years, it had been years these fists were held back, now they struck with a fury that rivaled the thunder above. Reinhart felt a crack, he heard it in his ears, his jaw was hit as his fist met Maximos' face. His cheek cut from the inside as the soft flesh was pushed to his teeth and he too was sent backwards.

Face twisted from the force, it took the rest of his body with it, he was lifted from the tile with that one hit. One full turn in mid air and he struck the roof with his back cracking the old tile beneath him. Quickly he forced his legs over somersaulting backwards sliding to the roof's edge. His figers almost like claws scratched against the surface in an attempt to stop him from actually falling from the tower.

Looking up, a trickle of blood ran down the side of his mouth, dripping on the now wet tile, flowing along with the water. Again their eyes met and for a moment Reinhart raised his hand to check his jaw, no dislocation, not yet. Rain began to soak him, his hair clung to his face, the wind biting his skin, it couldn't get any better, he couldn't ask for a better place. Crouched, hands down, the only sound was that of water hitting the tile, then a roar! Thunder roared overhead and Reinhart was off towards Maximos, like a race horse exploding out of the gate.

Footing was a small issue, they'd been through worse once or twice before surely. Closing the distance his fist cocked back once again like the hammer on a gun ready to shoot a deadly bullet. No face this time, his fist shot out low, hooked, upwards to strike him in the midsection. His feet planted, sliding him across the last small distance before Maximos was reached.

Full force, there wasn't going to be another chance, let it all out, this it, the fight he...they...had been waiting for.

Gone and back again by popular demand.

themightyjello Wrote:

Where had he gone?

Why had he left?

Was the match already over, or did he just not care anymore?

The Captain of Team a** Tear had just up and vanished after the first fight, leaving the rest of his team to their own devices as he went about doing whatever it was that had been more important than being there with his team when they were outnumbered in a situation that he, himself, had put them into. With Reinhart and Maximos off in their own little world it left Tzenidaar and Stryphe against Moonblade, Nyako, and a bloodied, pantsless man.

Perhaps that was exactly why he had left.

Perhaps that was why he'd gone to pick up some luggage.

Beepbeepbeep.

The FIGHTER devices registered an Offensive Striker. Pointless, considering that due to the special rules that had been put into place there was no need to announce Strikers before they happened. However, the most curious thing was that it was registered to TAT Captain Joshua.

...and it was the only warning they would have.

GUUUUUUUUUUUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA~!!!

The entire roof of the Clockwork Purgatory exploded inwards as a massive object flew threw it; splintering the rooftop and sending both the debris and the occupants falling through the interior. Machinery was torn out as if it were tissue paper. Struts, supports, and rafters fell like a handful of toothpicks as whatever it was that had demolished the rooftop continued through the structure.

Whatever the object was it smashed through the larger gears and even struck the large center cog head-on as it flew through; tearing it straight out of the walls and bringing it down with it. The integrity of the entire structure was compromised as cracks shot through the stonework and sections of the building slid off-kilter; threatening to collapse inwards and fall with the rest of the debris down the stairwell on the inside.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEE~HAAAAAW~!"

The cameras only caught it for an instant, but it looked like -

• it was almost as if -

• TAT Captain Joshua was riding a WALL with a :meanface: painted on it.

With a cowboy hat waving in the air and a look of unequaled glee on his face, a 128,000 lb adamantine block shot through the building like a meteor coming down to earth. Thank god the spectators were all outside.

By the end of the day, some fourteen year old kid in Toronto, Canada would post a clip of that on YouTube with the "THWOMP" sound-effect edited in and a closing frame that said "WTFPWNED".

The battle grew more intense as the spattering of rain trickled in through the gaping whole in the clock's massive face. Turning on its own independent accord, the hands of the clock faced the time and marked the progression of the match in full. It was hand to have a constant reminder of how long they had by the measure of time right next to them. Nayko gripped the railing of the catwalk and trembled at the force inside him. He wanted to let loose, go all out, and take these Hell Spawn back to the pit.

At the back of his mind, Nayko felt a strange twinge. Something was happening outside and it set him off. He grew unattached from the match and began feeling the drops of rain falling from the sky as if they were his fingers. Feeling the air glide past the endless drops soothed the troubled angel, until the block fell. The magnitude of its size shook the air and clutched at the rain as it plummeted past it. Nayko dropped under the pressure of the block. Falling to his knees, Nayko made for his move. It didn't matter to these Hell Spawn if he attacked, and it stopped being an issue to him the moment he discovered their nature. Nayko wished to end this, one way or another.

Higher, I've gone past the point of honor. I need the strength to purify these Hell Spawn, and I request your assisstance. Let your graces and your love cherish the virtueous and punish the wicked. Damn them, oh he who wroughts the realm of evil, and let your strength wash over me like the currents of time!The water, it always felt like home. Nayko retreated away from the catwalks, running, more so than walking, up the cogs toward the hole in the clock face. The match below needed to end, as did this round in the tournament. If Nayko wished to see that fiery red haired kid brother again, he'd need to come out a winner. "I'll take my chances now, and beg for forgiveness later."

The block came. The seismic crash crumbled through the elegant exterior and mechanical interior as if it were stone descending into a sand castle. There was a pause, an instant where the gears stopped and the clock remained still. All eyes averted to the roof, and none seemed to comprehend this event. For whatever reason, fortune smiled on Nayko. Out of everyone there, he would be the only one to know of the behemoth block's decent before it ever came close to the arena; and he prepared himself acordingly. When it rained, it poured. The free falling droplettes of water were hardly free, and the blocks thunderous crashing through the tower must have scarred the earth horribly. This Hell Spawn was no different. The impact of something that size and weight would no doubt bring the building close to collapsing. All the infrastructure now came whizzing down with the whistling wonder while water washed Nayko's worried mind.

The clock tower held a good deal of the life giving liquid already. Since Nayko needed to force his way through the clock face, and inadvertantly cleared a path for the rain to flow through, there was a good supply of water for his disposal. But this far surpassed his hopes. The caving of the roof only opened up a door to limitless quantities of the beautiful and fragrent kiss from the heavens. His back was wet. The rain didn't stop like they did as the block soared through, and neither did Nayko. Following the block was his response to the Hell Spawn's rediculous notions to disregard honor for this match. Thousands of razor sharp shards of ice sailed through the air and spiralled downward to follow the blocks path. Caught in the drag, the ice shards flew through the air with incredible speed and accuracy. The air was already thick with moisture, but this took the cake.

All the razor sharp shards of ice had a mark, and that mark was Tzenidaar. Forget the rules, they were tossed away anyways. Forget the fascade of honor, these Hell Spawn didn't have any. Forget the restraint, Nayko was bringing his friends out of this alive and ok. The thousands of shards sailed in a wide corkscrew that blossomed as the drew near, drawing into Tzenidaar like metal nails would be to a giant magnet. They were small, they were aimed for him, and they were everywhere. The barrage wasn't general in any way. It came quick and followed the decent of the block. There wasn't any logical way for this man to evade all the ice shards, especially if he, along with everyone else, didn't know they were coming.

A simple tactic like that wouldn't garuntee a victory. Nayko needed to do more, and quick. He had a second or two before anyone could regain their wits, and he chose then to make his moves. Following the barrage of deadly ice shards, a series of thick flowing strands of water lept from the damp walls and lashed out at the demon. All around his arms, legs, waist, neck, and even the bones of his wing clung the clear liquid. On command, the water froze made a permanent clutch to Tzenidaar skin and clothes. Many people held the strength to shake these shackles free. But anyone who did so would find that they'd love a piece of themselves along with it. Ice had a way of sticking to things in the most perplexing ways. Tzenidaar should just as well tear out his own throat if wished to forcfully remove these restraints.

"A blade from heaven shall soar forth to purify the wicked." Nayko regurgitated the words his Dominion made him reherse. It calmed him. The water soaked in through the ceiling, and life appeared to be moving again. The waters that fell halted only a few feet underneath the lowest member of the two teams and began to collect in a free standing pool of water. That water collected both from the outside and the previously deposited amount inside the tower. It was as if all the rain were drawn to the epicenter of that pool. The collected resevoir rushed up at the combatents like a gyser. Within that cool gyser rester solid chunks of ice which quested to pummel a soon to be submerged Tzenidaar.

Although this process would take a decent amount of time, Nayko was confident in the fact that Tzenidaar would be too busy dealing with both Silver and the ice shards to notice the collecting water. In the end, it didn't matter. Everyone was getting submerged with this torrential explosion of water that rocketed up through the clock tower. Nayko lept from the hole, bathing in the rain that saught him and clung to his person. The gyser would jet out of the roofless opening. Of all the people ensnared in the blast, only Tzenidaar would be assaulted by the ice chunks inside. Between the soaring shards aimed to cut him to ribbons, the shackles made to lacerate his limbs, and the blast of concentrated water constructed to pummel and crush him, there truly seemed no way for Tzenidaar to come out of this in one piece.

Silver had been ready to act as Tzenidaar as he bum-rushed him. Bending his legs, he braced himself for the chimera's assault. The moment before he could implement them, his perfect concentration was shattered by a certain event. Nothing could have prepared him what was about to come crashing down on them.

themightyjello Wrote:

"YEEEEEEEEEEEE~HAAAAAW~!"

"What th~"

His attention was immediately drawn to the ceiling as an object of epic proportions thundered down from the heavens. WHERE the hell a block of adamantine that size came from, and how the hell it got there were questions that probably wouldn't be answered. What mattered was that he could be caught off guard to Tzenidaar's charge. Considering his bloodlust and the momentum he had picked up, the Chimera would surely plow poor Moonblade over.

He continued to build up energy, despite anything that was happening.

[6]

The WALL crashed down at the base of the tower; having outrun all of the debris which it had created and smashing into the bottom floor of the tower before it finally came to a halt. An unstoppable force meeting an immovable object was never something that ended pretty. Simply the built up air pressure from the WALL plummeting down that shaft was enough to blast the door wide open and give the spectators outside a first-hand glimpse of the destruction as the WALL tore itself a new basement in the building; sinking in at least a few feet as the stone blocks that composed the floor cracked into gravel.

The police and bouncers alike stepped in, enforcing the area around the tower that the spectators were to keep clear; though with a spectacle like that right on the other side of the door they had to press a line with their riot shields to keep some of the pushier groups back. Dust spilled out, despite the rain, as powdered stone that had been shot up into the air by the crashing debris began to settle. Pieces of stone and machinery were littered upon the ground inside, but only a faint shower of tile chips from the roof had come down upon the outside of the building.

Despite all the power that had come down before them, it had shown a remarkable amount of control.

"Look!" A woman in a knit cap shouted, and the crowd fell silent. They stood in awed silence as a silhouette appeared to them inside the structure, standing from a crouch on top of some dark pedestal.

"Tch."

Three fingers pulled down the brim of his cowboy hat as Joshua looked up; the brim shielding his eyes from the rain that fell through the open roof as he stared into the distance.

His earlier exuberance was gone, he was quiet, contemplative, or maybe just watching and waiting. The rain was falling, but the rain was not natural... at least not anymore it wasn't. Someone had tainted it, something was definitely wrong with it, it was almost as if -

The demon licked his lower lip, tasting the rain that had fallen from above.

There was no doubt about it. Someone had tainted that rain. It tasted like holy water. But not only that... it was hot.

Rykono Tadaya Wrote:

The waters that fell halted only a few feet underneath the lowest member of the two teams and began to collect in a free standing pool of water. That water collected both from the outside and the previously deposited amount inside the tower. It was as if all the rain were drawn to the epicenter of that pool.

He didn't even need to look down to know there was an unnatural amount of water gathering at his feet around the base of the WALL. The water was being manipulated, and where there is manipulation there is magic. He could smell the stink of that celestial through his magical reach even from the base of the tower.

There wasn't enough though... there would never be enough with just the rain. It was coming from other places, from everywhere else even. Every drop of rain that fell for miles around was running towards this mass of water that was building; forming rivers that ran uphill in the streets simply so they could reach the Clockwork Purgatory on command of a self-righteous heaven. Though this was still not enough for what the celestial was intending, more would have to be gathered to fit that amount of water.

Pipes burst in the nearby buildings, fire hydrants upturned in the street as the water pressure skyrocketed. Everything, everything was being drawn in to form that mass of water that was building at the base of the tower.

Joshua even went so far as to spit and watch it curve back like a boomerang.

The Captain crouched, placing his right hand flat upon the surface of the water as it gathered in around him. He turned his head only for a moment, looking to the men standing guard outside the door.

"...stand back..."

Rykono Tadaya Wrote:

The collected resevoir rushed up at the combatents like a gyser.

The hollow stairwell of the Clock Tower became the mouth of Old Faithful for a few seconds; everything that had gathered and would gather rushing together at once to fire itself upwards in a single blast aimed to submerge the entire interior of the building in tainted water.

And Joshua was riding right atop it. A glowing disc of energy under his feet, he held onto his hat with one hand that began to glow red more and more intensely as the geyser shot him towards the roof riding atop his positive energy barrier.

Rykono Tadaya Wrote:

Everyone was getting submerged with this torrential explosion of water that rocketed up through the clock tower. Nayko lept from the hole, bathing in the rain that saught him and clung to his person. The gyser would jet out of the roofless opening.

The torrent of water shot skywards, carrying with it pieces of debris that had been caught up in the flow and anything else that could not get out of the way, including a glowing disc that was hurled into the air like a Frisbee and took up a place superimposed over the clouds at the crest of its ascent. The crowds from below would see Nyako hanging in the rain with that disc behind him... like some sort of perverse Bat Signal.

And then it all went straight to hell.

WH-KK!

The two seemed to hang in the air in frozen motion while everything processed - both Nyako and Joshua, so close he could have whispered into the celestial's ear as a fist glowing brightly with ribbons of burning red energy drove itself deep into Nyako's stomach.

The celestial had been watching the chimera so intently, he wouldn't notice the TAT Captain blasting out the same hole that Nyako had used to exit the Clock Tower, using the geyser itself as a springboard.

"Now look what you've gone and done." The words were spoken harshly into Nyako's left ear... not a threat... he was being informed of the monster he had just awoken so that he could know that, no matter what came to pass next, he was directly responsible for it.

The fist twisted, and Joshua grabbed a handful of the celestial's garb while pulling back; practically leaning back as he brought his knees to his chest and placed his feet flat against Nyako's own. There was a blast at the same time that Joshua shoved off, and a jet of negative energy fired through the celestial's torso; through flesh and bone and spirit, doing little damage to the body but that was not its function.

Like being fired out of a cannon, Nyako would careen downwards and away from the building. If he couldn't stop himself he'd go straight through the roof of an office across the street.

The Captain, conversely went up and over; ribbons of crimson energy trailing behind his heels as he spun in the air and into a swan dive through the broken roof of the tower.

Someone had to put a stop to Tzenidaar before he killed someone other than Moonblade.

"Whoa. This is intense!" commented the man with the huge afro standing amongst the crowd of spectators. He was eating some popcorn and sipping on a coke while watching the fighting going on inside the clocktower via the television displays. The whole thing with the WALL crashing through the tower out of nowhere had him on edge. Afro-sama couldn't wait to see the outcome, even though he was pretty sure what that outcome would already be. He took some mental notes of all he saw.

He wasnt paying attention at the time he would dig his thumbs into the man's eyes. He was looking around. As for the hand which sucked out the endless maelstrom of negative energy with a bit of positive energy mixed in, it wouldnt do too much to drain Tzenidaar, though it would still feel like having his bones torn out of his body or the like. He could survive it, but it didnt mean that there were no ill effects.

His face winced in pain even as his lips were still pulled back in fury with a gurgled cry.

Moonbade's absorption of energy into his system through his arm would not cause it to wither as quickly as when Tzenidaar injected pure negative energy directly into the man's shoulder. Because he was taking the energy directly out of Tzenidaar, there would be a smidgeon of positive energy included, that small amount like the yin and yang. Even with the dominance of one, there was still a tiny bit of the other. That was why Tzenidaar would even be alive rather than some sort of undead creature.

And so it would be, his arm would slowly decay as he absorbed enough energy to release his emerald flame once again from his body, while the black flames of Efreet would consume Tzenidaar's own.

The caustic flames would begin to burn into the chimera's skin, easily removing the outer appendages of his fingers to leave stumps and remove his eyelids from his face as he screached in pain, sounds that didnt come from human vocal chords. His hands pulled back as the skin began to dissolve before charring over and flaking off from his own flames even as his wings pushed outwards to remove the man from the close proximity, legs thrashing out hard to roundhouse the body in the grasp of the extra appendages even as the acidic flames melted them off.

And so, the captain of Ryugin would be send at a downwards angle to the side, accelerating the descent into the face of one stone wall of the tower.

Meanwhile, the negative energy and flames would pour out of the bloody mess of his own body created by the acidic green fire. Skin melted before burning and flaking off as the two would be seperated, the black flames only strengthening from the fires before being cauterized shut and charring over once again. And with the removal of the outer layers of his skin, so too would the acid be removed with it.

And down, down, down, the beast would fall to the stony floor below with the rest of the other pieces of clockwork which would follow in the wake of the mighty WALL. His wings tried to slow the descend, heat pulling air upwards to stop the rapid descent, but having parts of his wings melted, the membranes made of fire would be small, leaving him to land with a gross thud on raw knees.

This is what is was like to be skinless. Pain? It all seemed like a pleasant warmth to him, even as layers of skin fell off his body and tougher flesh just began to degenerate. So this was what it was like to have raw flesh exposed. He knew he couldnt feel it, because of the flames which were a part of him, consuming him, but he knew that it would damn well hurt.

He looked around for the body of his opponent, it was not completely because he was still thinking about the fight. Rather, a part of him, his subconscious was beginning to rule his actions. It was the anamalistic urge to finish the man off if he was still moving. However, his vision was nothing normal anymore. His eyes were more or less gone. But he saw by something else. The flames or Efreet were alive, the beast acting like a parasytic symbiote. It ate him, but also, it gave him strength, replacing his eyes with that of fire, but everything he saw was lined like thermal vision.

8

It had all happened so fast- for a second, you think you're comfortable: Sipping on a beer, kicking back and watching your team do what it does best. Not so.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it, team a** Tear had begun to do their worst. Which was a whole lot more destructive than their best.

themightyjello Wrote:

The entire roof of the Clockwork Purgatory exploded inwards as a massive object flew threw it; splintering the rooftop and sending both the debris and the occupants falling through the interior. Machinery was torn out as if it were tissue paper. Struts, supports, and rafters fell like a handful of toothpicks as whatever it was that had demolished the rooftop continued through the structure.

Beer sprayed from Stryphe's mouth, his eyes widening in shock. In fact, he'd almost dropped the bottle he was holding onto with so much ease moments ago. Now, since it hadn't been drop, he was gripping it so tight that the damn thing was about to shatter.

"DAMN!" He barked, astonished. And here he thought Josh'd gone to get a pretzel or something. Wrong.

And for a second, he'd almost forgotten to sheild himself from the debris raining down around him. It was a last second arm, mostly in reflex, that rose to cover his head and neck as glass and splinters rained down. The larger chunks of the tower's support would be falling more towards the center of the arena, where the WALL had completely obliterated the roofs foundation. Stryphe was too the side, and the larger peices of support structure were still barely clinging to life above him. He was decently safe.

From this position (sheilding himself, head down), he'd have a clear view of where the WALL was headed- straight down. It was a long fall from up here, not from from the face of the massive structure. Nevertheless, it wouldn't be very long before Joshua came back up the Clockwork Purgatory's depths. He'd missed the icicles- the time Stryphe could have spent checking the roof for anything more falling death he spent peering down the clocktower and retreiving his halberd from it's spot on the catwalk.

He managed to take a sip of beer, too, before it hit him: Were Tzen and his opponent even still alive at this point? He hadn't checked since Joshua came blasting through the rough, riding the meanblock.

He'd only barely managed to see the plummeting Tzen (and opponent) before...

"s**t."

Kraun Wrote:

Even as the tiny raindrops would unnaturally swirl towards Tzenidaar, his entire body erupted, similar to that of Ryugi's self made explosive body. Tiny bits of razor sharp ice would instantaneously be vapourized as the flashfires would erupt through the air he was falling through. Any form of ice and water within the radius of the blast would be turned to scalding hot steam instantly, blasting through the hole in the roof and the broken windows of the upper stories, because s**t like that rises.

With all the strength he could muster in his legs, and with a burst of demonic power, he shot himself up through the hole Joshua and the WALL had conveniently left, leaving the searing interior of the structure and all the combatants inside behind.

No one would be able to live in that hell for long- no one. Maybe save for Tzen (at least as far as Stryphe knew).

This had to end. Now.

For a moment, Stryphe seemed suspended in midair. He could look down on the tower now, and was off to the side. It had been in his plan to leap at this slight of an angle- simply because he didn't want to fall back inside. Why not? Not because he was afraid of the Clockwork Purgatory turned oven, that's for damn sure.

He whirled about to face his foe- the clocktower itself.

Demonic Omnipotence

His eyes welled with the bringing forth of his inner demons- the true hellspawn, Stryphe, and the ancient and mighty Jormungandr. His long, jet black hair whipped about wildly in the open air above the clocktower. He clutchedhis halberd by the very end of the pole (with two hands- the beer fell to the earth) and held it high into the air, as if to strike a hammer down on all the world. The air crackled around his body, water rose off his form as steam. Snakelike, wispy streams of energy spewing forth from his emerald smoke-filled eyes spiraled around his arms and along the shaft off his raised weapon.

He smirked, and the heavens were divided.

It began with a glow- the blade of the halberd emanated an emerald-green glow before it seemed to explode. In truth, it was actually growing- very, very fast. Stryphe's demonic power and the halberd's blade had become one. What was once a halberd was now a glavie-like blade of energy that was twice as long as the clocktower was wide and about as wide as one of the many streets below. The blade, made of raw energy, cleaved with a supernatural sharpness. Such condensed energy, with particles moving at such an increased, unstable state, cut at the molecular level. There was no stopping this power, no sheilding from such an attack- only saving ones own life.

He brought the weapon down, teeth clenched. Feral in effort, scientific in concentration, Stryphe wasn't really out to kill anyone- this was an effort save the lives of those locked in a battle to certain death. He would give those within the tower a common enemy to deal with.

The attack was far from sneaky once the blade had actually been manifested, but it was too late once it was in the world. There was no possible way anyone in or around the tower- their senses peaked, would miss this coming. That was the point: Get the ******** to your senses and out of the way. And honestly, it just felt damn, damn good.

The weapon would part the clouds on it's way down, leaving a scar through which sunlight would beam down on him and and the clocktower as if acting as a beacon for the whole world. This is where s**t was going down.

The air behind the weapon of intense energy was blurred and almost frayed, as if the halberd was about to cleave time and space itself. Time and space, however, would remain intact. The clocktower would not.

Stryphe began to fall at the pace of his swing, a spec to spectators. A spec at the end of this massive, green glaive of death which bit into the top of the clocktower and continued downward like the damn building was no more than an upturned stick of butter. Glass and other debris exploded outward from the building as the destructive force traveled further downward. The spectators, at this point, would be fleeing for dear life.

Stryphe's swing was reinforced, and the blade's descent began to outpace his fall. It was Stryphe's intention to cleave only the clocktower- the only thing the rest of the city would have to deal with would be the falling of the clocktower itself.

In seconds, the swing was completed. The tip of the blade would touch the ground at the very base of the opposite side of the clocktower and the dissapate- gone as quickly as it had arrived. The clean cut would give the already unstable clocktower a few seconds before the two peices remained would cave in on eachother.

Now all that was left for Stryphe was a freefall back down to planet earth. The air around him settled, the energy dissapated from his eyes. This attack was one he'd perfected and had been using for ages- it drained him very little. There was far more than enough energy and plenty enough sense left in him to stop himself from simply splatting against the earth.

His eyes began to well with power once more.

The Action News helicopter circled around the site of the battle, high enough to keep away from any ramifications of super attacks and the like.

"Chopper Dave here reporting. It's certainly looking pretty chaotic down there, even from up here in the skies. We've been getting reports of debris dropping from the clocktower as a result of the WALL crashing through the tower and ripping the place apart from the inside. We wouldn't be surprised if the entire thing came crashing down soon.

And now for traffic..."

((My eyes ache and my internet is beyond messed up. Stryphe, it's good to see you back in the action! Don't think I'm letting you go just yet! This is a semi complete post, and it'll have to do for now because I'm crashing. Sorry fellas.))

The proud always thought themselves to be invincible. It's a pity that such talented warriors were in fact, so proud. They spat words of insult as if there tongues dripped with the bitter taste of disdain. There wasn't any true tactics to be found with this group, or really any group of mindless raging Hell Spawn. They expected to flex their power and get away with it. They'd kill this entire town if they assumed it would help.

Josh soared like a missile with the intent of landing a hidden blow. The proud assumed so much. If he understood the true nature of Nayko's gift, he wouldn't rely on the water to propel himself and find more safe routes.

themightyjello Wrote:

The two seemed to hang in the air in frozen motion while everything processed - both Nyako and Joshua, so close he could have whispered into the celestial's ear as a fist glowing brightly with ribbons of burning red energy drove itself deep into Nayko's stomach.

The fool, he didn't even realize he became prey the moment he touched the liquid that flowed so freely. Water spoke to Nayko, and he listened intently. All the actions of everyone who was touched could be heard, and Nayko was an ace at being able to determine the whereabouts of those he desired. Josh was one of these people. Riding so confidently on that massive WALL brought a nostalgic view into his dealings with Hell Spawn in the past. They perished, because they rested on their pride. If this man wasn't careful, he would too.

The surge of energy collided with Nayko's stomach with a blood curdling churn that bemused the angel. This man could hit. The energy numbed his stomach, its intensity astounded him. But there proximity was the more amazing aspect of the Hell Spawns daring move. He threw a solid blow into the belly of the beast. All around him was Nayko's power, and all over Nayko, that same power clung to his skin. The angel knew of the demon's attack because he was careless enough to assault Nayko in his own territory. For that, there were certain reprisals. The water that collected on Nayko's person lashed back for a quick and unseen counter. Forming a barrier, the water about Nayko's person absorbed the shock of the attack and transferred via current to displace at a rapid rate, jutting a thick plume of water concentrated and unyielding underneath the man's jaw.

Nayko wouldn't have any distractions with its new threat. He needed to dispatch this waste quickly. With the counter in motion, Nayko folded his wings and dropped. His hands, quick to react, grasped the demon's ankles and wrenched him from the sky. Utilizing the rain as a sling, Nayko hurtled the man into the billowing steam which clung to the mouth of the roof. The steam burned, and Nayko could feel it. Inside, two extremely hot forces were colliding to extinguish one another. Fortunately for Nayko, he controlled water in all its forms. The steam lashed out and engulfed the cocky demon in a burning rage beyond the tolerances of mere flame.

Nayko needed a plan, and this fight seemed to go beyond his skill. He acted on instinct now, disregarding the notion of slaying someone on the account of hating himself later. He'd come through at the end, and he'd see to it that his friends came out alive as well. Silver was wounded, and his body wouldn't last much longer. He needed to help, but there was so little for him to do. Higher, call down your blessing and bring to me the strength necessary to purge this flame. Like a delicate shower unto the world, may your blessings pour over me and grant me thy power.

The job was done- steam, heat and pressure were being released from the building. It didn't matter if the combatants continued to fight or not- at least it wasn't trapped inside that oven anymore.

And now what they had was a controlled demolition, thanks to Joshua. Now, if any spectators had been stupid enough to not get the hell out, they'd be safe.

He whirled about in midair to face the city canopy- the sea of buildings the two peices of the clocktower would dwarf for only a little longer. With a grunt of effort, Stryphe plunged the halberd into the building across the street from the clocktower- his descent had brought him close enough to make this move.

Chunks of brick flew outward as he etched a long, jagged scar in the side of the building. The weapon cut well enough to the point where Stryphe's joints, while a feeling a little jolted, were still intact.

After a few moments, his boots clapped against the street. He stood in between a shoestore or something and the cone-shaped barrier Joshua had erected to control the fall of the clocktower. The demon-boi was safe.

He ran out towards the street where the spectators had been crowding- they were already off to the sides, entirely clear of the towers front half.

"Joshua...!" He began, running back in between the clocktower and the cone-barrier to take a look at where the back half would be falling.

"...You're all clear!"

Torture.

It was sheer hell in there. The flame on both ends were doing incredible amounts of damage to everything that was remotely near them. Almost instantaneously, Moonblade's long hair was incinerated, followed shortly after by the smell of burning flesh. They were literally being cooked ALIVE in the blind warzone, and yet neither party seemed to let up.

That was easily the most physically painful thing Silver had ever experienced. EVER. Who would have guessed that being impaled while you were cooked in the equivalent of a giant furnace could be a little... displeasurable? If that didn't sounded like a treat, stab yourself in the eyes with obsidian knives while you were at it. The one positive about his left arm being nuked was that he couldn't feel it because it was completely dead.

Which didn't really amount to much.

The only worse experience that he could have conceived was at the black hospital, when he telepathically tortured by a cruel, sadistic monster. In reality, all the things that happened in that rusted, frozen room never happened. And yet, the image still haunted him occasionally. The key difference between those two events is that he wasn't completely helpless; Silver could still fight back.

Their chorus of pain rang throughout the streets, giving the impression that demons had been unleashed inside the crumbling tower. Being blind, Ryugin's captain couldn't have foreseen the thrashing Tzenidaar had just unleashed on him. Thrown downwards by the sheer force of it, he continued to burn at maximum intensity.

Until he hit the wall, that is. Immediately, he succumbed to unconsciousness with the vanishing flames.

It would be a ROUGH landing. Even if Silver were still awake, he couldn't have seen the ground to brace himself for impact. Rebounding like a limp rag-doll, he was shortly followed by the debris cause by THE WALL. He was quite fortunate that he avoided being crushed by one of the giant gears, as it surely would have meant the end for Moonblade.

Unfortunately, it didn't look as though the results were going to be much different. He was charred almost beyond recognition, covered completely with 3rd degree burns and soot. The only piece of his uniform that remained was his pendant, but that was completely covered in ash and dust he kicked up upon landing like the rest of his body.

So there Silver Moonblade lay, barely clinging to life in this broken down Clockwork Purgatory.

((Chaos. Pure Chaos.))

Ryugi would FINALLY drop down above where Tzenidarr and his Captain had fought, dipping and dodging falling debris as he moved. He saw the chimera, and kept an eye on his position as he tried to find Silver's body. However, the only sense that really aided Ryugi at this moment was his sense of smell. He couldn't see Moonblade, but he could smell him, weakly. Moving quickly, he found his captain's charred, and nearly unrecognizable body laying up against the quickly crumbling walls of the tower. He acted quickly, lifting his friend off the ground, regardless of the burns he had received. With all the damage he'd taken, would a little more skin really do that much harm?

He skidded to a halt, picked up his friend's body, and immediately pushed every ounce of strength into his legs, leaping off of falling debris, gaining height, until he made it out of the crumbling tower to land a safe distance away from the hell that ensued from the attacks of the opposing team... If Tzenidaar even tried to make a move, Ryugi would boost in and out before he could react. In and out like the wind. Even as he carried his friend, Ryugi was busy using whatever energy he could take in and absorb from the hell around him to heal and help his friend in dire need of it, first doing some serious healing to his internal organs to get his lungs in working order.

Nayko! Defense!

Stryphe shouldered his halberd and leisurely made his way between the two fallen halves of the tower. Over the rubble he went, stepping along lifeless gears of the once busy Clockwork Purgatory.

"Walk it off, Josh." Was all he'd say as passing by his heaving teammate, patting him on the back.

((I'd inserted a large edit here to compensate for the numbing, but it was lost. Here's the short version.))

Stryphe went "wtf" for a few seconds and decided to leave s**t alone with Joshua. Crazy mofo.

He'd step up to Tzen, looking the beast over with a cold, mocking "Ooo, that must hurt" look on his face.

"Sorry I can't carve out a chunk of my arm for you like Joshua. I must look tasty..." He teased while producing a smoke and popping it between his lips. He suddenly cocked an eyebrow at the rubble beneath his feat- something truely priceless caught his eye while getting the smoke ready. He knelt for a second before coming back up with a broken beer bottle in his hand. The top had snapped completely off but, miraculously, there was most of a bottlesworth of beer left.

"Would ya look at that?"

He motioned the broken bottle towards his feral, burning teammate.

"Seriously? The whole thing? Alright, alright, I've dispatched several teams for urban control and basic medical attention. We'll get the situation under control, let them all finish, and close the area off."

"Yes sir; no more collateral. Once everybody has moved along we'll set up a charity fund to restore the tower to it's former glory. Use what we can of the donation for the restoration project and funnel the excess to our other projects."

Several transports were on their way. Those tell-tale blue and yellow Security Officers to push the general populace back and out of the assumed range of danger. Medics would be on standby for someone exploding more buildings full of people.

a Tear and Ryugin would be left the ****** alone. They could stand around the rubble and pick their noses all they wanted; Security was moving the audience away from them, not the tower.

Ryugi wasn't going to stick around any longer. Two losses for his team meant, essentially, that fights were over. He knew Maximos and Reinhart would fight regardless of what had happened. NOTHING would stop their bout from happening. Not even the Gods themselves. As much as Ryugi wanted to stay and watch the fights that would take place, his obligation to his friend was even more powerful. Silver Moonblade, his friend and Captain, was heavily injured, and was in DIRE need of medical attention.

He'd managed to patch Silver's lungs up so he could breathe, however, the more extensive healing would have to be done elsewhere, and by a far better healer than Ryugi. So, as the people backed off of the tower, Ryugi left with them, making a beeline as quickly as he could for the Crimson Hawk Hotel. He would waste no time, thanking Nayko for his help, then jumping on the tops of buildings and rubble. His friend's life could be hanging by a thread, even as Ryugi continued to heal what he could on his own. He cursed himself that he was unable to help his friend, the environment of the fight making it damn near impossible for him to act quickly enough to be of any assistance. But he'd worry about that AFTER his friend was alright...

Hold on for a while longer Silver. Once we get to the Hotel we can get you patched up...

((Since the fight is pretty much over, Ryugi and Silver are back at the hotel and stuff. Cris and Nayko are gonna stay for a bit I think. Anyway, good fight Josh, good luck guys.))

Kraun Wrote:

The cigarette would burst into flames before even Stryphe would have a chance to light it as the area flared, possibly igniting the alcohol in hishand as he literally lunged through the air to get -

• SLAMMED.

Tzenidaar only made it half the distance between his original position and Stryphe before he was literally enveloped by a flood of negative energy like he had dove headfirst into a tidal wave that swept across the ruins of the Clockwork Purgatory.

It was a ******** optic blast.

The energy that had needed an escape had found one; the chimera that needed a little more than a smack on the nose with a newspaper. When it was released it was like a dam bursting, everything coming out at once with no control over it at all, only a direction, and now though the flood had passed the dam was still broken.

There was a rut in the debris of the Clockwork Purgatory, not only on the end that Tzenidaar had been blasted with but on the other end as well; the uncontrolled discharge had forced the Captain back as well, leaving a bloodied trail for several feet across the ground where the broken stones had lacerated his bare feet. Though in the end he was still standing, and Tzenidaar was barely conscious.

"...bad dog..."

Before he could draw another breath the Captain collapsed to his knees, and slumped over on the ground with only his right hand to support him; his left still soaked with blood from the skin open.

There must have been a mistake. All around the angel and company wreaked the smell of putrid death and horrific bile. It wasn't so much that this air held such disgusting odors, but the feeling of the odd energy surrounding Nayko brought him back to the plains where he fought in a gruesome crusade against the fearsome beast that the Hell Spawn corrupted. Their massive bodies proved to be tough to take down, and their quick movements made them all the more difficult. Nayko felt that those beasts were mere kittens compared to the force these fighters displayed at the now ruined Clockwork Purgatory.

Nayko's heart ached with the absorbtion of the energy into his body. Every breath fatigued him considerably. He flared his wings, beating them quickly to clear away the cloud he gathered. Inside all Celestials is a pure energy that, to keep the yin yang comparison going, would be justly labelled positive energy. The two colliding energies reacted within the young Celesital and he, like many of the other fighters, spilled the contents of his stomach onto the floor.

What now? His team had been disbannded, strewn about, and quite firmly beaten. Nayko sat and addressed each of the damned demons as if they were another rabble of upstarring Hell Spawn who wished to become famous or indulge in the kill like so many of their brethern. This wasn't the plains fo a crusade, nor was this the skies of Empyrean. This was Heaven or Hell. In front of Nayko rested the champions of hell. Who was he to be the champion of heaven? There were far greater wonders in the Celestial Capitol. As if realizing that teenager couldn't best an adult, Nayko began to feel the fear of his actions. He had charged in with the intent of being the savior, taking these demons to be arrogant fools. But it was Nayko who was the fool this time. His own ignorance placated his delusions and caused him to go willing towards a doomed fate.

Idiocy, as the motif of his current feelings. Nayko stood alone against battered Hell Spawn, who exhausted a great deal of their own strength to even fight one another, and he still feared for his life. He could run, perhaps, but it wouldn't do him very good. These Hell Spawn weren't here to fight by honor, they were here to win. But even still, they did display a level of compassion that even Nayko didn't appear to possess. When the tower fell at the hands of one Hell Spawn, the other aided it by allowing the innocent to run before the crumbling pieces killed them. Nayko failed to act to save those people, and the Hell Spawn was left to do it alone. He sacrificed a great deal of himself to do something so...pure.

Was it the fact that Nayko feared them for being powerful, or was it a new respect for this heartfelt Hell Spawn that caused him to weep? He wasn't sure. Tears broke through the solid composure of the angel boy's angered demeanor. What did it matter anymore? They won, and Team Ryugin lost. Never again would Nayko be able to see his brother. Never again would Nayko be allowed to return to the Holy City. It didn't make sense, why would God allow such disgraceful beings to win at this when he clearly had the more noble motive. Was there more below the surface, or did God truly turn his back on him like so many of the Cherubim preached to him when he descended onto the plain of man?

Beyond the existential views laid one terrifying truth. Nayko might die here today. Those Hell Spawn still had enough fight in them to fight, and more than enough will to kill. Nayko needed to escape, but where would he go. Would he run and be labelled a coward, or would he face the wrath these demons would no doubt lay upon him. What would Rykono have done, if given the chance.

I'd fight, and you know that.

His voice echoed from nowhere, and yet came from everywhere. It was like it came from inside his own mind. In the confusion, Nayko felt a something touch his spirit. A cold hand brushed across his tender soul and calmed his quivering body. Rykono was there, he knew that presence, knew that feeling, and knew that chill. Rykono, please help me!

Since when did you become such a coward? Last I recall, you were talking about wanting to personally smite the Hell Spawn, and that any evil in the world should be destroyed immediatly. What happened to that, dear brother? You look so pathetic, crying in the dirt while those Hell Spawn bask in their glory. I died fighting my wars, if you're so miserable, maybe you should do the same. Atleast then you'll keep your honor.

The b*****d was right. Nayko rose from the depths of his agony and faced the Hell Spawn before him. He'd need to face them, one way or the other; he'd go down in the blaze of glory.

It would be another minute before things were right again... everything had happened so fast... but then again, that was how things were meant to happen. If they didn't happen fast then they wouldn't happen at all, especially if they were things that they had the power to deal with.

The tower had fallen. They could deal with that.

The people were in the way. They could deal with that.

Time was the enemy. They could not change that.

And so, the way that things had happened was the only way they could have happened. If they had acted more slowly lives would have ended... either those among them or those around them. Sometimes there just wasn't time to be gentle.

That, specifically, was the reason why Joshua was sitting in the dirt, leaned up against the side of the WALL (one of the only things that actually survived the destruction of the Clockwork Purgatory), digging the fingers of his right hand into his own flesh as he worked to realign the bone fragments in his left; which had shattered almost completely breaking his fall from the top of the tower. He hadn't had time to slow down, time had been working against them.

Despite the pain and the fatigue his good hand still moved with precision; half a century being trained as a doctor did not fall on deaf ears. It would still take time, however... and in that time he would be constantly leaning his body to different angles so that the blood which ran down his arm would pool in the dirt in front of him.

With a little effort and a lot of concentration, he would make nine pools of blood in a circle and, as soon as he had finished setting the bones into proper place, would drag the index finger of his right hand through them to draw yet another circle in the dirt.

Joshua paused long enough to give a thumbs up.

"Bring me a burger! "

...what? You ******** yourself up that hard and it makes a man hungry.

Clockwork Purgatory.

The urban control teams were keeping the spectators at bay- for an instant, they almost hadn't let Stryphe back into the site, dismissing him in their rush. He shrugged, stepping past the barricade. In his right hand was the pole end of his halberd- the rest of the weapon was resting on his right shoulder. In his left was something unpredictable.

A small, plastic kennel from which could be discerned a near endless chorus of soft, innocent mewing.

"Hey!" One of the men on the urban control team began to approach the demon from the side, waving a finger. One look at Stryphe was all it took to make the man realize his mistake- but it was too late. He'd face the wrath of Mr. Stryphe Ebrowen Epothos.

The halberd's pole was yanked downwards in rage. With Stryphe's shoulder acting as the fulcrum, the blade arched through the air and slammed into the ground in front of Stryphe, spraying fragments of rubble into the air. At the same time, the kennel was dropped, the contents inside mewing in alarm at the sudden jarring impact.

The demon pivoted on his left foot to directly face the now shaking man- the crowd was silent, the rest of the urban control team looked on, unable to take action.

In one fluid motion, done in the amount of time it took every human in the area to flinch, Stryphe's left fist shot upwards, the back of it pointing at the man's face, bent at the elbow. His right hand gripped his left bicep.

"SCREW YOU."

The only sound was that of Stryphe retreiving the small kennel and uprooting his halberd from the ground. He walked towards the building where he could clearly see at least on of Tzen's legs hanging out the side.

"Classy."

The Captain pulled half a hat off of a piece of steel framework; the hat hadn't been damaged by the tower's collapse, ironically, though it was as good as gone already after being shredded by the decent. It sat well enough, though, as long as there was no wind.

He climbed over the rubble slowly, not rushing; there wasn't much he could do for Tzenidaar right now other than bust him out of that wall, and even then it didn't seem that it would help much considering he was hardly whole anymore. From what he understood of the chimera's physiology the best thing to do for him was to get him something to eat... and Stryphe was already taking care of that.

However, it seems he had forgotten the burger. Maybe one of those kittens would suffice, hard to tell how all the fur would make it taste.

"?"

Joshua grabbed the end of a metal rod sticking out of the debris. For some reason it just seemed different than the other supports that had become exposed when the Clockwork Purgatory fell; it was, or at least it had been before all that had happened, polished steel.

So simple story: this shopkeeper said a man went into her store and bought these kittens, right? Well, it just so happen that this man was holding a weapon of some kind. Now, what would one think when someone walks out of a petstore carrying kittens in a kennel? Okay, forget the story. Those kittens were going to a bad place, and someone needed to save them.

Superman?

Hell, no. This was the job for a real hero, a creeper of the night.

Son of a....Shikmaru! Look, that guy standing in the back of that crowd! Apparently, he wasn't looking in the best of moods, and already, he had come to make sure those kittens weren't about to become some little pawns in whatever game this guy was playing.

His hands clasp together as he stand in the back of the crowd, and already, a black shadow creeps across the ground like some sharp lurking through the dangerous waters of the ocean.

To Random Picture Displaying Guy: You know what? You're fired! No no, you are freaking p***k, and are freaking stupid!

Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Anyway, these shadow would split into different tails along the flatness of the ground, each coming toward the bottom of the each guard's feet. The quickness should surely catch them off guard. A successful capture would have each of them suddenly unable to move.

Why?

Because I R SHIKAMARU AND MY SHADOW STOPS YOU!

Not in this lifetime. It was quite simple. The shadow just tie its grip to a person it makes contact with and simple move an invisible field of chakra over their body. For those who were uneducated and had least resistance to abilities like these....they were screwed as it also would move through the skin to take control of the nervous system. He was hoping these wer enothing but normal guards who wanted to keep their day job so they can return to relaxing at a strip club while smoking a joint.

In all, if this worked, they will all be standing still, shaking as they found themselves under Kage Mane no Jutsu, the shadow jutsu that had any victim copy the movements of its wielder. It was kitty-saving time.

Sweatdrop.

These guys were wearing armor. When did this happen? Damn, looks like it was time for Plan B. The shadows would start to move up the legs of each guard, spiralling around as they climb. The thing was, they presented no actual physical form, being used by the chakra properties of Shikamaru to be able to act as if they actually were. A great grip would be reinforced at the joints, to prohibit movement if these guards decided to act, Shikamaru's hands clasped in that same position as he gave unflinched concentration on this situation.

When he believes he has them well binded, he would use the force of their grip to then pull back on each guard. Basically, he was attempting to send them all falling down on their metal behinds, and to contain them there for the time being.

Kage Kubi Shibari no Jutsu.

"....."

Alright. Plan C.

He removes a grenade from the pouch behind his waist. No, he removes six of them. Six versus six hundred? What was he up to? He suddenly would toss all of them into the air, equally spacing out. When they reach twenty feet above the barrier of guards....

BANG!

No explosion. Just a great flash of light instead, all six combining their light to light up an entire block, including around the bottom of the ruins of the Clocktower. That is when the shadow of Shikamaru's will grow incredibly large, spreading out under the feet of each of them. This was to decrease the amount of chakra he would have to use, since it was the light that was helping increase its size and not he.

And down they will go. That was right. Each guard was actually sinking into the shadow. They were being pulled downward into the dark portal as the light continued to shine. The time it should take to completely pull them under should be five seconds.

Shadow Portal....

If they went under, their destination will be five hundred yards west of here, which Shikamaru had no clue where that was. But consequently, it would be in some darkened sewers that was probably smelling pretty bad. What would happen if you try to fit six hundred guards into narrow passages together? Yeah, that wasn't looking good.

He let his halberd drop to the ground with a smash, Stryphe took the last couple steps over to the body of someone who was supposed to be Tzen. Stryphe would only be able to guess if he hadn't already known who it was, though. He honestly had never seen someone so ******** up, yet still living, in all his long life. He shook his head as he approached- half in disbelief and half in admiration.

Tzen's impact had blown a nicely sized hole in the side of the building- it was large enough for Stryphe to step straight through it, careful not to step on the charred flesh that was the animal, Tzen.

Once he was in, he knelt down next to Tzen's sad excuse for a head and shook the kennel at it.

"Since you couldn't take a chunk out of me..."

He tipped the kennel backwards and set it on the ground- the eight kittens inside fell into the back, piling ontop of one another, all mewing. They were completely unaware of their dark fate. Epothos opened the kennel with the flip of a switch and a flick of his wrist, lazily flinging the small doorway open.

"...brought you the eight-peice."

He wouldn't get much of a response from Tzen- probably a wheeze and a gurgle here or there. That was it.

Flick.

Cigarette lit, it was time to operate.

His hand reached into the kennel, picking out the first little furry ball he could find. From the plastic cage he pulled a squirming, mewing, grey kitten. He stared.

"I'll do you the pleasure."

Suddenly, in mid-mew, Stryphe slackened his grip on the kittens back enough so that it began to slide down towards the floor until he could catch it by it's head.

The muffled cry of the kitten, Stryphe's hand completely wrapped around it's tiny skull, would be cut short when he cracked the poor thing like a little furry whip.

The seven other kittens inside the kennel continued to mew, content with eachother's warm little bodies. The baby in Stryphe's hand, however, hung limp. Silent. His eyes searched the ground for a few moments before finding a suitably jagged peice of debris.

"You're obviously not chewing anything," He commented aloud, not even sure if Tzen could hear him at this point.

One after another, the kittens would be killed without mercy and bled into what was left of Tzen's mouth until the animal was fit enough to feed himself.

Ktthk!

A spear tip rammed into someone's innards and stuck there. It was Moonblade's spear. It was Shikamaru's legs.

Together they were -

...a ninja corndog.

Hefting the spear shaft over his shoulder Joshua trekked back across the Clockwork Purgatory towards Tzenidaar. Maybe some ninja-leg would buck him up just a bit...

"That's right," He said with little enthusiasm and a slight grimace, "eat up. I'm gonna go check on Joshua and see if I can't find Max."

He left the way he came, having risen from his kneel the moment Tzen had enough energy in him to take things into his own feral hands.

"Honestly..."

There was a moment, once he was outside the building where Tzen was feasting to health, in which he just had to shudder.

"...********' weird."

He took one last drag from the cigarette he'd lit at the start of the kitten-feast then flicked it away before picking his halberd up off the ground. He'd heard the commotion as he'd begun feeding Tzen, so his attention turned towards the crowd.

And then there was Joshua, hauling a fleshcabob in Stryphe and Tzen's direction.

...

He decided not to ask.

And guess who was the only one left to pick at the remains?

Yeah... he'd grab the spear, eat the corpse and leave before things got crazy, taking to the air as soon as his skeletal wings regrew and formed black tattered membranes between them. Because being naked and all wasnt exactly the best thing to do if there was a giant crowd around the ruins of the clocktower.

Let it be known unto all, thine Judges hath made their decree:

Clocktower

• Team a** Tear - 19

• Team Ryugin - 16.416