Marketplace

There was a soft crack of steel, as something made it's presence, and weight, known.

Stepping forth with a regal gait, and mantle that covered a towering form, the Judge took his position to the side.

The HoH Judges are the supreme enforcers of tournament law for the duration of each match. Each Judge wields extraordinary legal power in his or her own stage over fighters. In addition to functioning as "legal administrators", they are also charged with the task of guarding the spectators who may be around the stage.

Every Judge has archives on every participant on file, and can simulate the powers of a variety of them in order to target its opponent's weaknesses. This was due to the data collected via fighters, in which DNA samples, skin samples, tissue, blood, etc-- were all analyzed and broken down once a FIGHTER came into contact with the actual wearer.

With the appearance of the Judge, the match was slated to begin.

Riding down an escalator, the first to arrive was the Captain of team a** Tear. A large section of the shopping center had been marked off for the battle and the spectators pushed up against the tape trying to get as close as possible without being clubbed by an ornery mall cop.

Joshua stepped off the escalator and walked into the center of the area, arms folded over his chest, and waited for anyone else to arrive... either from his team or the other.

(after reading I have no need to edit )

During the night Kain had gone to scout out the place, the general area at least. When there's a Tournament of such high stakes one would be a damned idiot not to know where he or she was going.

He took one of the handles at the mall's front entrance and pulled...and pulled again...The Damned thing was locked!?

The cunning conclusion was made false when a spectator looked at Kain's sour expression regarding the door and, apprehensively, pushed the door to open it. He put on a bitter scowl and hung his head, trying not to draw much more attention to himself than he already had.

He shook some hands and patted some shoulders as he tried to part the ocean of people hoarding around him, looking from some sort of recognition from the Devil. He waved, smiled and laughed on his journey to the fighting area. It seemed he was the first from his team to arrive, that was until he saw a member of a** Tear point to Sierra and yell while throwing a pack of smokes to the floor.

How disrespectful! Those are perfectly good smokes!

Rain was next to arrive at the Mall. Unlike his dafter captain and co-captain, he was familiar with such public areas. He had spent the morning eating a light breakfast of some oatmeal, and an entire giftbasket of fruit that had been intended for another competitor in the tournament. He warmed up in his room himself, and jogged to the arena. If he were to fight, it would most likely not be first, and he had some time to pick up a few things.

He slipped through the front doors of the mall, to the semi-unwelcoming sight of a large mob of film crew, reporters, and fighting fans who brought their camcorders from home. There was an initial gasp of excitement...

Then an awkward silence. Someone from within the crowd muttered "Awww, its just an alternate," and the entire mob turned away as if they were one.

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not standing right here! I mean, honestly!" Rain shouted angrily, his fists curled into tight balls, his arms quaking for a moment. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, bringing his left hand to his hip, his right hand up to his forehead. "What am I going to have to do, pull a rabbit out of my a** before someone pays me any heed?"

He looked up to see a little girl with a teddy bear, holding her mother's hand, staring wide-eyed at Rain with mouth agape after his last comment. The lady was fuming, and went to cover her daughter's ears. "Well, I never!" she said, scowling at him, before leading the child away.

"Wait, no, I didn't... I mean... ah, hell with it." Rain waved a hand once to shoo them away, before making his way around the mob towards some familiar faces.

"Hi Sierra, hi Kain. I'm off to do some shopping. Let me know when my turn is up." He waved to them as he spoke, and walked right by to head deeper into the mall.

themightyjello Wrote:

Joshua would pull something out of his pocket and throw it into the center area.

"1 vs. 1. Stryphe, I choose YOU~!"

...it wasn't a pokéball, it was a pack of smokes.

And just as the pack of smokes were about to touch down in the floor, it exploded. Of course, the actual explosion would be hard to witness at all, for it was not an explosion in the sense like that of a grenade. Rather, it was more like the equivalent of an egg thrown against a wall, or a head being smashed open with bits of grey and red brain matter splattering everywhere; utterly smushed.

But the cause was not natural, for just as small as the detail of the explosion, attention would of course, be directed to something larger than it, both physically, and metaphorically.

So enters the massive meat cleaver, the entire weapon made up of one slab of metal, crashing down on the carton of cigarettes just before it would land in the center of the battlefield, shattering the tiles on the ground in a light spray in every direction as it burried its tip in the floor.

"What?" Tzenidaar squatted on the railing on the second story, on one of the catwalks which bridged two sides of the mall, skeletal wings sperad to provide the balance for such an off feat, overlooking the closed off battlefield. His face, or rather, what was visible of his face, showed a sign of boredom, if not disappointment. The spectators mostly kept a safe distance away from the freak.

"Man, all you told me was to come to this place," Tzenidaar began, clearly to his captain, "And this is what we get? I thought we got Glacier or Ryugin, one of the teams that made it to the finals... instead, we get... whoever these people are." He didnt pay any attention to the FIGHTER at all, but asked his team for directions. He knew what to do, but only needed to know where to do it.

His right eye flashed green for a split second, something that was clearly unmistakable as being out of place and unnatural, easily caught by a wandering eye, "They look weak."

Either he was provoking the other team, or he was just really arrogant. Either way, his personality was usually rather blatantly blunt.

"I'd like to start if that's fine with you cap'n." Tzenidaar muttered from his high perch. Just like the man instructed, like an owner and an animal, back at the stadium during the opening ceremonies, leave it for the ring, and he was getting impatient. He jumnped off the railing to the battlefield below. That was not a request for permission.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

"Well, I think it's too soon to start delegating pairings, only two of them have showed up. I've only heard of Maximos and Stryphe."

A pair of clip clop as boots tapped the tile floor. And there he was in all black. His black hood shrouding over the top half of his face save for the faint glow from his right eye piercing the shroud. His jacket buttoned from the neck to the waist and then left open, the wind slight gust of the AC picking up the coat tails.

He lifted his fully gloved right arm, and with his fingerless gloved left tugged his sleave as if adjusting something, and then came to a stop, right beside Sierra and Kain. Though closer to Kain, you know, intimidating close. But not intimidating Kain, rather intimidating the "opponents", by how cool "there" team looked, all standing together.

Though only the bottom half of his face was visible he had his game face on. He was silent, determined, ready to rock, to rumble, to do this! Did the sound of his name call him? Was it just co-incidence no one would ever know....just like Maximos didnt know he was on entirely the wrong side of the ring...

Shortly after Maximos's arrival, Rain came marching down the mall hallway, two large, unmarked shopping bags in his hands. "Oh! Looks like the second person has arrived." He hurried over to his team, but slowed as a curious look overtook his face. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious was standing beside his two teammates.

He made a 'what the hell?' face towards Sierra and Kain, looking back and forth between them and Maximos. He decided not to press the issue, and put his shopping bags down near his stuff.

"Two minutes to spare. I hurried as fast as I can. Why is there a giant meat cleaver in the middle of the ring?" After observing Sierra glance upwards, he too followed her gaze.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!" he exclaimed, literally falling backwards as soon as he spotted Tzenidaar, eyes wide with fear.

He walked up to the middle of the area, yanking the large weapon out of the floor with his right arm before swinging it up and around so that its dull end rested on his shoulder.

Nobody.

No sign of Stryphe, no opponents. He lifted his free left hand in a questioning gesture. Was everyone else too busy chatting to get this underway?

Well, it gave him some time to size up the competition, going into specifics of each person rather than just the just the general weak appearance he gave to the opposing team.

((Yeah, I'm just going to wait for either one of my teammates to push me aside, or someone steps in to rumble.))

"Bring it."

It was all Tzenidaar had to say as his head tilted back, revealing over the brim of the high metal collar a grinning mouth of pearly whites.

He stepped out with his left foot, leading with it as he dropped the weapon down to the ground, letting the end of it slam against the floor as his hands held the large hilt at waist level on his right side, the weapon pointing backwards from the direction he faced, essentailly an easy position for a forward swing.

Now to see if it was time to begin or not.

"RAIN?!!"

Oh hell... she might as well. She was going to be trying to slice and dice the man anyways was she not?

======

"Bring it."

The elf grinned, a slightly feral expression to mirror his gleaming grin. Nodding she walks over to the bench where she'd laid her gear. Fastening her sword belt around her petite waist so that the blade itself was resting against her left hip/thigh for an easy cross-draw.

The semi-backless battle kimono would reveal the skin between and below her scapula (on either side of the spine sheath for a foot long blade)splitting as muscle, sinew, bone and feathers shifted beneath the pale skin and then forced their way through the open flesh with a sickening sucking sound.

Four black feathered wings fanned out behind the woman like an ebony standard, flacking the ground with crimson as she fluffed them, drying the feathers so they were usable. She already had her other weapons securely in place.

3 throwing blades on either thigh, hidden beneath the skirt of her kimono, but not purposefully concealed.

Two of her daggers, (originally a set of four) were nesteled securely in her boots.

The barbed tail spine that encased the demonic apendage, was obvious enough to any onlooker.

"Let get this started!"

She grins as she salutes the judge and her teammates, signaling that Maxi should probably take his place with his commrades.

She eyes the 6 ft and a half-ish cleaver in Tzenidaar's hand and stops 10 feet in front of him, moving into a guarded stance. Her left foot turned out so that if a line was drawn from her right heel to the left, it would form a perfect right angle.

Her knees bent slightly, her hands are held loosely in the vicinity of her chin and chest, open handed, fingers bent ever so slightly as her eyes settle on Tzenidaar.

"Ready when you are!"

A cheer goes up form the crowds as camera crews shout back and forth at one another.

"Don't miss a single minute of it!"

"Oh wow! It's actually starting!!"

"This is SO exciting!"

"I can't believe she's actually facing that thing! She's so tiny!"

"Maaaaan! I can't look! It's going to rip her to shreds!"

This was it!

Round one. Preliminary Match - HoH 2006-07

Sierra Ethel'stan VS. Tzenidaar

FIGHT!

[[ 1/17 ]]

The sword would move across her body from the right outside line to the left inside, coming in for a resounding blow at the left. The easiest thing she could do, was move in and right as he advanced. Given the clumsy bulk of the sword, it would be hard for him to reverse the swing of the weapon.

Her movement forward as she ducked past the blade, a wary eye on the skeletal barbs he called wings... would put her at his left hip, just behind his elbow.

She would attempt to block his left arm if it lashed backwards at her, using her left to do so, and bringing her right arm underneath to hook the limb between the elbow and shoulder joint where she could apply the most pressure.

If she succeded, she would exert enough force by pushing her left arm forward and bringing her right back, to dislocate the elbow from it's socket.

Her wings and tail ready to batter away intruding forms if need be, and her metaphysical senses on high alert for any magick based retaliation.

[[2/17]]

Rain encircled the ring as he observed his captain fight this monstrosity. He was observing Tzenidaar's body composition. Finding weak points was proving difficult, but nonetheless, his basic makeup was close enough to human anatomy that Rain still knew where to strike. Its body wouldn't be able to function otherwise.

"Isn't she great, folks? Look at her go!" he called out loudly to the audience. "Come one, come all. Come watch the battle of the Beauty versus the Beast! But, lo, be amazed as she throws off the shackles of the damsel-in-distress archtype, and shows us all how a true champion fights!" Audience members were gathering around, all beginning to murmur amongst themselves. Men, women, children; Rain was leading them all into favoring his captain, all the while starting to cheer her on a little more each passing minute.

He made sure his voice was loud enough for Tzenidaar to hear him, and to know where he was; that he stayed behind him at all times, shifting around as the creature turned.

"Yo, shut up." Tzenidaar called out at the man behind him. If he was trying to annoy and provoke him, then he was getting to that point. Aside from that, it was of little consequence at the moment.

As for Sierra, well, she just learned something probably relatively important to plan any further actions.

He had stumbled for a moment, dropping down on one knee from the kick, and having had his legs bent prior, there was little strain from his legs having to buckle from the blow as his weight shifted and he went down.

As he got up, he hurled the large weapon which could easily be described as a giant meat cleaver into the air, letting it arch to crash down where the woman would be standing. It didnt matter if she moved out of the way or not, for the weapon would smash into the tiles, breaking into the floor and sticking out of it, seventy five pounds of metal, enough weight to crush easily someone with the amount of force put into the throw. Mind you, a throw such as that was not an obviously high, five feet up into the air sort of throw, but rather, a low arch. He wasnt so stupid to miss and splatter a spectator.

Meanwhile, he would advance after the weapon, closing the distance and watching the direction Sierra would move to. Left? Right? Back? Forward into the weapon? His movements were accompanied by swirling air around his body, as if it was building up for something, wings folded back to provide an aerodynamic edge to his advancement.

3

((And I'm off to sleep for now. I'll either try to pump out a post before I got to work tomorrow morning around 7:15, or I'll do it as soon as I get home around 4:30.))

((Sorry I'm late, work!))

Maximos had one of those, "Oh crap!" reactions. Because you see Sierra's hand belongs to a woman, its a womanly hand, pretty probably even had colored nails. Niether Joshua, Stryphe, or Tz had hands like that...so this wasnt the right hand...

His jaw sort of unhinged for a moment and hung in mid air as he pointed at Sierra, shocked.

One of the flaws of human body...the need for sleep. Maximos plays with shadows, shadows play the best at night...he loves the night! He was up all night....now it was early morning...And he was looking rather daft.

He smiled all friendly like to Kain, nodding a thank you. And then sort of scratching the back of his head wandered to the other side of the ring. Of course giving Josh and Tzen a wave. And he was off, the fight was playing in every television display in the mall which meant he could watch the fight as he walked. And there was just this jingle in his pocket that begged to be removed. He wanted to spend! He'd be back soon.

A pat on Joshua's back signaled the either the return of Maximos or the arrival of Stryphe.

"S'one of the craziest lookin' babes I've ever seen."

It was the latter. The demon-man held up a half-eaten mall pretzel to his old comrade.

"Want some? It's good." "...And why the hell isn't Max here yet?"

Meria had been around for a while. Unlike the red headed elf or the giant of a demon, she could relatively blend in with the crowd. She merely looked like an small child in a black trench coat, not tooo odd. She'd been over at the food court, finding all the interesting food she could. It was only when the other people around her seemed to get excited about the upcoming fight that she realized the time for the fight was near.

She whipped off the long black trench she'd been wearing, tossed it over her shoulder and began pushing her way through the crowds, trying to keep her Giganto burger in one piece. She was hungry damnit. She glanced around and spotted Sierra only by pure luck.

"Mmrph?" She glanced up to the ring and shrugged, dropping the trench and her top at Kain's, leaving the tiny doll like woman dressed in what appeared to be tight red ribbon and a loose wrap around skirt. "Did I miss something?"

((Are her jugs bigger than her neck? </Grease>))

He watched as his Captain engaged the hulking thing. Tzen's weapon was immense, one direct shot from that baby and you can call it a day.

Rain was getting pretty excited from the sounds of it, whether his cheers were hollow or not remained to be seen but Kain held confident of Sierra's victory. His arms were crossed and a single finger tapped on a bicep, his eyes and body keen.

With the starting of battle, some of Kain's true characteristics revealed them selves. His horns, tail, and if anyone cared to pay attention, lengthened teeth and claws.

Somewhere to his right, a camera's eye was making a whirling noise with zoom and focus. He wondered how they got passed security but they were still in a safe distance behind.

"This is great stuff, I'm going to be rich!"

Lady Sierra Wrote:

She would jump over the blade, her wings propelling her--

Straight at the chimera, whose right hand, that was freed from switching the weapon to his left in mid swing, would be outstretch, fist clenched, as if to throw a punch at her body, even if his own arms length would be inadequate as opposed to the length of someone elses leg. The punch however, was never intended to actually strike anything, it shot out early, the moment she jumped into the air.

"RRRAAAAAAAHHHH!" His right eye flashed green again, but this time, much brighter, somewhat lasting, leaving a bright green trail as his head moved if only for a split second.

And by the time she would soar over the weapon, his arm would be fully outstretched. Her foot would never even so much as touch the high metal collar around his neck which rose up to cover his mouth and the bottom of his nose.

What would happen next could be described as a motion similar to that of a propeller.

Quote: Elemental Air - Cyclone Cannon: When released, a small cyclone erupts from his arm outwards, just large enough to encompass one person. Those caught in the winds are spiraled off in a chaotic spin caused by a small, short lived, heavily concentrated twister of air force which propels outwards. This move is most effectively used against a creature with wings, for the chaotically powerful winds are easily caught by the large surface area of the appendages which provide the ability of flight, resulting in the possibly tearing of membrane and feathers as well as twisting the bones and joints out of place with a sudden and powerful jerking motion.

He would let the massive sword rip through the railings of the escalator, never bothering to step onto it, and then he would have simply let the weapon go, leaving it half burried in glass and metal rails as his torso twisted to his left from the forward swinging motion of his right arm which would tilt slightly upwards to shift the cyclone upwards with the escalation provided by the mechanical stairs.

As for his opponent, well, due to the location and direction of the attack being let out, it would simply mean that she would be sent into the edges of the moving stairway, hard. And following the slight movement of his arm upwards, the cyclone would continue pushing her along it, spiralling around while scraping up the steps to shoot out from the top of the stairway before it died down.

As for the rising heat in the area like an oven? Well... can fire really hope to affect Efreet's blood so easily? The fact that Tzenidaar didnt even seem to react to the flames and heat at all probably should have given it away before.

The wind kicked back, like two magnets pushing in opposite direction from the release of the attack, one forward to blast directly at the woman, one backwards, making loose bits of his clothes flutter chaotically.

He was no demon. He was a monster.

5

// Dark wings they are descending.

See shadows gathering around... //

Luckily for the Elf, as soon as the air had started condensing and swirling about her opponent earlier, she had initiated counter measures for air based attacks. Attacks like the Cyclone that screamed towards her now, in an angry gust.

There was rarely ever a singular purpose to anything the elf-did. Her mind constantly racing away at tactical possibilities and appropriate strategies.

When the air around the elf, in an 8ft radius had begun swirling and spiking in temperature, It wasn't an offensive move at all, rather a defensive one.

Suspecting something of this nature, she had been steadily preparing a double heated air lance.

The folds of air and temperature that had been swirling around her, concentrated about her front in a semi-circle as he shot off his attack, his scream echoing in her ears. The heated pockets of air, acting like a buffer against the cyclone and diverting the blast to either side of her, like water parting before a rock in the river.

The shock wave would gust outwards in a strong wind blowing racks over and tossing people's hair and clothes about them 'causing the spectators to shield their eyes.The force of the attack still slammed her backwards however. Wings wrapping about her tightly, she crashes into part of the railing, her lower right wing taking most of the force.

''UGGHN!!''

Her breath escapes her as she coughs for a moment. Kneeling on the escalator and letting it carry her higher for a moment as she watches her opponent closely.

[[6/17]]

// One by one they are falling--

Every time they try to strike us down! //

He was upon her, even as she struck the rail and dropped to the steps. She acted out of instinct, her thoughts racing too fast now, for logical thought to keep up.

He was fast, She was fast. And they both had one objective... one aim.

Her wings parted from keeping her safe as she'd been thrown back, her head coming up. She had one distinct moment of 'OH ********.' that flashed through her eyes as Tzenidaar's fist sailed at her face. At the same time though, her weapon hand also moved. The sword in her right hand, that she'd never let go of, would be thrust into his left, lower ribs. The bladed tail, would snake out to wrap around his right arm, the barbs biting deep into flesh.

Luckily her head had been moving up as he struck her, so that his fist lands in her cheek instead of her temple. That could full well have knocked her out or killed her.

A sickening crack as his fist lands in the side of her face, the jaw obviously fractured.

She screams, it felt like her head was going to explode.

''UWWWAAARRGHNNN!!''

[[7/17]]

Onlookers roared like dogs, squealed like pigs, clawing at one another to force themselves closer to the action, while remaining safe within that panicked and frenzied mob. Unlucky shoppers were squeezed in between the stiff, sweaty bodies of crazed young men. They had come to see that hot elf girl's body in action, and now, in this overwhelming display of male dominance, they were overcome with something sick, something -sacred-.

Bloodthirst.

There was no cliché chant for the sweet red to start flowing, just that heavy and continuous -pant-. Stale breaths collecting together in unison so thick a less crazed individual might pass out from the sheer atmosphere. Cries so animalistic that it was like a wave of noise surrounding the competitors. This wasn't a shopping mall, this was ******** Rome, a return to one's roots. These pseudo-soldiers, these wannabe-warriors, they'd get off to this and then they'd go home, download the video, and get off to it again; no orgy only because it was such an inaccessible activity.

All at once thumbs started turning downwards, and the angels up above cried for God's lost children.

The roar of the crowd put Kain less at ease. Sierra may have got a hit in but she certainly wasn't doing to well.

"Meria, Rain, you guys may want to step back." The rest of his characteristics would have to be exposed.

The rip and tearing of flesh could be heard from the sidelines as two great 7 foot wings sprouted from Kain's back, small puddles of blood from the dripping of crimson from the thick leathery bat-like wings.

Rain sneered at Kain's comment. Not at his teammate, but at Tzenidaar. "I need to stay close if..."

He turned to look at Kain as he explained, but went silent.

"... oh."

Without another word, he backed up to leave plenty of room for his ally.

As he did so, he heard the crowd muttering, and people commenting favorably towards Sierra's opponent. He made it a point to speak up, so the onlookers would hear him. "Ooooo. Tzenidaar's going to be feeling that one. That wound the tail caused will make him bleed out before too long. If her sword hasn't already sealed his fate, that is."

His words silenced a few of the Asstear supporters, and he grinned to himself at their newfound quietness.

She took another tear of the burger and smiled, "A place called Giganto's. They make something called an Angus burger. Steaks of pure..."her head turned to take in the atmosphere, and she spotted the man in black who'd just approached his team. Meria's hair seemed to brighten in a flash becoming as red as Sierra as she stared at the man, her silvered amythyst eyes glowing brightly, into an almost violent shade of violet.

"Maxi...." Her eyes were wide, she clutched Kain's arm and forced her attention to the fight, her face flushed with anger, pain and basically every unMeria like emotion there was. For just that moment, she was Fae again and very confused.Tellus ahdn't been joking when she'd told Fae that HoH was full of drama. She was compltely clueless about Kain's transformation. Hell, at the moment, she was having trouble remembering who Kain was.

// Live life, breathe, breathe //

Something inside her had clicked over. Charcteristics of FIRE. Stubborn and strong willed, Passionate, Unyielding, Aggressive, Destructive--- There were so many things that could be said of this woman and her nature. The most remarkable of them though, was her unwavering will to survive and her unblemished determination.

The power that had begun to pour off her, the scalding heat... As his body morphed to stone, imitating one Shouyin of GLACIER, her own body erupted in flames. The immolation might not hurt the Chimera who housed the blood of Efreet, but this fire was not meant to injure.

The temperature around her spiked to 1025 degrees, more than hot enough to melt rock. The tail would carve through the armourment like a hot knife through butter, inflicting the originally planned destruction. The exploitation of physics could not be guarded against. Stone was stone and everything had a melting point, she'd exceeded it.

As they fell, she would push away from him, landing clumsily 9 feet away from him, on damaged wings and staggering as she stumbles. She spits a mouthful of blood out on the floor, crimson bubbles gurgling from what should have been her mouth.

Gold flame lanced around her body as obsidian markings had etched themselves over her cheeks, arms, legs and collarbone.

Her sword, which was enchanted against such unnatural heat and called Elven Fire with good reason, glimmers as the tiles crack and shatter under her feet. The radius effected by the intense heat was down to 6ft, but anything within that radius would ignite, burning away to ash.

[[ 9/17 ]]

Concrete, that which most buildings were composed of, was made of granite, sand, and water.

Granite was the source of stone. The melting point of granite is 1700 degrees centigrade. 1025 degrees ferhenheit, or even centigrade, was simply not enought to reduce it down quick enough in the time they would have fallen from the escalator which wasnt even all the way up at the top to the second story.

At most, the stone would heat up to painfully searing hot temperatures, but Tzenidaar was not easily affected by heat. Stone it may be, but this was still his body. A body which was simply resistant to heat. His flesh, which had properties similar to that of stone, was still his flesh. The blood of Efreet would not give way to fire, his flesh would remain.

But that said little for the other articles he would possess, like clothing. It would simply burn, blasting off his torso where the heat would be concentrated, exploding into cinders behind him as the leather straps snapped off, the high metal collar around his neck and shoulderpiece on his left shoulder flying off to the side to reveal a sneering face full of teeth, wrinkles lined the man's nose as his face contorted.

Steel had a melting point of 1370 degrees centigrade. It would just clang off to the side. Though its strutural integrity would be weakened by that point, it was unimportant.

Quite simply, the defensive action, was not enough. They would crash down to the floor below, possibly cratering the tiled floor as the impact would cause the heated stone that coated Tzenidaar's body to shatter into razor edged shrapnel, though his actual flesh, seemed to handle the heat without a problem.

And then his left arm would come slamming down.

9

// Don't you die on me--

You haven't made your peace. //

The kimono, overtop of her armour, turned to ash as the temperature continued it's rapid climb. The armour was customized to her, standard silk was not, sadly the beautiful garment didn't stand a chance.

Mall sprinklers would go off, causing women in the crowd to squeak and squeal about their hair and makeup, while media crews panicked about their cameras and gear.

She hadn't been able to disengage him enough to push away, the stone had weakened, but she was still embedded in his body.

As they plummeted, Tzenidaar, who was the heavier of the two to begin with, and with his stone laden armour dropped, literally like a rock. The wings one his back being the heaviest would aide her in what she was going to do.

She would use her own wings, despite the searing pain that screamed through the tortured limbs... and pump, hovering enough to rotate them so that Tzenidaar would be beneath her when they impacted with the floor.

This set her up for two things.

As the stone exploded away from his body, and her limbs were cut up and bruised by the debris... His flesh was again normal flesh once revealed by the stony plates, and all that lovely skin was exposed by the lack of clothing. The sword that hadn't been allowed to escape the man's ribs was shoved downwards, through the lower left lung and into the floor beneath them as she straddled his middle.

The tail, with one objective in mind would finally tear into the soft underarm, burying it's barbs in muscle and tendons as it grated against the joint.

Ra'kar would be sitting staring down at him, jagged fangs protruding from her ruined mouth as blood and spittle dripped down onto Tzenidaar's face. Her hand reaching around his throat, nails elongating into vicious talons as she squeezed.

Her bludgeoned wing would smack away the punch aimed at her, relatively easily if this was indeed how they landed. Because from his back and in such close proximity, he just wouldn't be able to get the windup needed for an effective strike.

[[ 10/17 ]]

How high did they fall from? Not very high, as they had only begun to engaged each other for maybe two or three seconds on the escalator which may have been originally 5 feet up from ground level. And escalators did not move very fast. By the time his impact cannon had struck and they went off the side, there wasnt much room to fall. And even then, how much time was wasted in the failed attempt to melt the stone off his body? It didnt matter, even by those factors alone, it would be near impossible to flip around with the distance betwwen them and the floor below.

And even if it was, the responding answer would be simple; Her wings opened up, his wings beat down, clubbing them into her body. As stated previously, his stone wings were simply too bulky and heavy to have a chance to catch air underneath them, they wouldnt even slow down from the low plummet one bit.

He would not allow the slightest motion to escape, he had caught her, he wouldnt let her go so easily.

And down, Sierra on her back, Tzenidaar's stone body crashing down atop of her as the stone which coated his body shattered outwards into shrapnel having been turned brittle by the heat that was not enough to melt it outright, only making it harder.

And his fist would still drive down. The time which this had all happened? Still the same amount from the time they began to fall. Because time doesnt slow down or expand between actions.

10

"Fascinating, I know." Stryphe said rather dryly, rubbing the slight pain out of the top of his head, "It's not covered in runes or soaked with magic, either. Baffles the mind."

He ripped a chunk out of his pretzel and watched the fight, chewing in interest. It was really a win-win situation, whatever the outcome. If Tzen lost, Stryphe wouldn't let the bone-winged butcher hear the end of it. If Tzen won then yay, Tzen won.

It'd be a good fight either way.

// Live life, breathe, breathe //

'Because time doesnt slow down or expand between actions.' How true.... but the supernatural force of such a punch, would have driven them out a ways before they began to drop... Not to mention said stone technique began forming while they were falling and said blade was already cutting through flesh. Forming plates of stone took time too-- Sierra, had actually been 2 thirds of the way up the escalator after being blown backwards-- which was a good deal higher than 5 ft. But things were happening so quickly it was hard to keep track of technicalities. For time's sake, the elf-demoness was pinned.

Her body slammed into the tiles, driving the breath from her body as she screamed and threw up blood as it sprayed in Tzenidaar's face.

Her wings were pinned, but her tail and her sword was not. Nor were her magicks.

Tzenidaar seemed quite willing to ignore the tail that had embedded itself in his armpit. The tail-tip that had rent the tendons in his arm, severing whatever arteries lay there including the Brachial and Axillary arteries. Tzenidaar would start experiencing side effects of mass blood loss. She didn't think a monster like him, would bleed to death like a human, but it would damn well weaken him and maybe leave him unconscious. She reveled in the feel of his blood-- not yet she willed herself.

The energy around Sierra/Ra'kar would concentrate itself and if he still tried to hit her, as soon as he connected with that energy mass, it would explode in his face like a small bomb against his fist primarily, but also his face and chest, now unprotected.

Ra'kar too would be surprised by Kain's STRIKER attack... but who was she to argue. What he did in his movement, didn't effect her, but Tzenidaar. If his attack halted the punch though, it would precede the energy bomb and said release of energy would not happen.

Should the punch 'land' however-- BIG BADDA'BOOM!!

[[ 11/17 ]]

Kraun Wrote:

If a person lay flat on their back, the points which touched the ground would be the back of the head where the skull curves outwards, their shoulders and back, and the following, what did not touch the ground however, would be a person's neck, right at the base of the skull.

And just like that, the amount of power behind his fist, with the additional input of momuntum accumilated from the fall at X-height, would come smashing upwards into the back of her neck, an unprotected point where she concentrated her energy in order to stop a frontal assualt that never came. A point which would be touching the ground would simply by pushed up, but a point which didnt, that had space between it, would feel the full force of the blow.

((Clarification; Oh, right, thats suppose to be an example if someone was lying flat on their back, which I assume Sierra isnt. Just reference to striking at a point that isnt touching the floor to maximise damage potential.))

Take a rest... Dont rest... Look. See. Its all the same. She is invincible? A shattered jaw and not even a flinch. Countless cuts. Blood everywhere. No effect...

No. It was all the same. No attacks. Counterattacks. Interrupts. No attacks. Zero offensive capability.

Look.

Look.

LOOK.

IT IS ALL THE SAME.

He closed his eyes and took a slow and steady breath. One arm. It was all he needed.

Calm down. Focus. I can do this. I WILL DO THIS.

He was... different. He appeared... human? Was he even paying attention anymore, or was he preparing for something?

The wind swirled at his feet in a gentle breeze as his wings fanned open behind him. This time, he was not making the attack.

12

Rain had been watching intently up to this point, cheering on Sierra as she went, with every wound she infliced upon Tzenidaar. Up until this last stunt of his.

He raised one hand to cover the lower half of his face, stroking his chin as if in thought. In truth, he was disguising a frown.

"Tzenidaar, I underestimated you." he muttered to himself under his breath.

He stepped to the side to make sure the tiny, busty girl on the other team could get her drink- but just barely. As if the fight hadn't been gripping enough already, now Tzen was taking a completely different approach.

But things do change when you're all roughed up.

Edit- And now what was this? Finger paintings don't bode well when they're coming from wicked, crazy women with swords.

His grip tightened on his halberd, which was resting on his left shoulder.

Sadly, that would not be the case.

Why was Tzenidaar alive if positive energy didnt affect him? The essence of life? He should be dead.

But why was he not dead? Without positive energy, there was negative energy. the essence of death.

Within his body, they clashed. It was that simply. His body was saturated in with negative energy, but he was alive. If anything was proof of this, it would be his pitch black left eye. There was no pupil visible. No iris. No sclera. It was just a seemingly endless black orb.

To regenerate, he had to consume that which was once alive. From a carcass to a living creature, as long as it was once alive, he would be able to repair himself. The process was done inside his body, for with high concentrations of one such thing from the inner planes in the material world, conduits are formed. A way of transport of sorts.

His body was simply that of negative energy. By consuming the liquid life, blood, that which was alive, the negative energy retreated, folding in on itself around it before swallowing it into itself, this creates a slight drawback, allowing a flooding of positive energy, that which is the essense of life.

Positive energy may not affect him at all from an external point of view, but in this form, it was pure regeneration. there was no blood in his system. His physiology did not consume food in the way normal people did for nutrients, he was supplied 'energy' by trading that which was not his.

Can you hear it?

Unlike the woman, Tzenidaar's energy seemed relatively stagnant, calm, weak. the wind at his feet circled slowly in a light breeze.

What did he need? What did he want? What could he use?

His sword.

His left hand opened, to his side.

His sword... where was it? It moved slowly, shaking lightly before it flew into his hand, darting through the air as his fingers closed around it. If he was focused on something, if he concentrated on it, if he willed it to be his, it will come to him. Such is the psionic talent taken from Alexiel Alastair and Ryudo Kazamaru; psychokenesis the ability to moe something with enough concentration and time.

Can you hear it?

It hurt to even get up from the crouching position. His left hand hurled the weapon through the air, another quick low arch, but incredibly fast as the wind at his feet blew off in the opposite direction, as if it was propelled by the wind, aiming once again to smash right where the woman was standing.

The sound of the divine wind?

Moved. The giant meat cleaver would splatter against the ground where she was standing, completely messing up whatever work of art she was making beforehand before it imbedded intself in the floor and tore the ground apart by the sheer impact of mass alone, wind bursting in all direction in blades of supercondensed air pressure in a two foot radius of the impact point before dying out into a harmless light breeze.

He went after her, even if it hurt to move too much. Breathing hurt his left side. He couldnt even feel his right arm. But he moved nonetheless.

Again, it was too much of a waste to go get the sword, then go after her. He went straight in the same direction she moved, while advancing, his left arm outstretched to will the sword towards him, his right arm just sort of trailing behind limply. And when it came, that was it, he didnt bother to concentrate anymore with the weapon, he had to watch her.

And again, he hurled the giant meat clever, right at her as she ducked behind a pillar, simply letting it smash through it with the accellerated force of the winds and spew a storm of cutting force in its wake into the pillar before it came out the other side onto the ground, its velocity slowed by the mass it had to smash through.

Straight at the woman, he just advance. One hand...

One hand was enough.

15

"RRRAAAAAHHHHH!"

A headlong charge, his left arm trailed back behind him, palm open, fingers arched as if it was like that of a claw. His sword went... wherever, he didnt care.

This was the end, there would be no more running.

The wind kicked up, no longer calm, as if it was a pot of boiling water with the lid covering it. With the lid on, it didnt appear as much, until the amount of pressure within the pot began to build up enough that the boiling water would threaten to overflow and pop the lid right off. How much of it was actually being suppressed before?

He took a single breath....

16

Final Attack - Zirandubar Unleashed

Phoenix Slayer

He charged forward, undaunted by anything she would ever throw at him. Even if she made a big bird of fire, his target was still her. This was the end, this was his time. Fearless.

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.

Powerful gusts of wind were nothing to him, here, he wielded pure power over the air around him as he literally tore right through it, gaining ground with every step, driving like a lance to the heart of his target. Nothing could have stopped him that moment.

"ZIRANDUBAR!"

He released the breathe that he had taken as he neared the beast. his left arm rose at an angle, as if to smash it out of his way with his hand.

On hand.

It was all he needed.

One hand to wield the weapon, Zirandubar, the only thing he needed. It is debatable whether he was more dangerous armed with the weapon or not, for unarmed, he had full access to his extensive arsenal, though he had to get close; armed, the weapon by itself was devastating, though its large size and massive weight seemed hard to weild at best.

Quote:

Zirandubar is a sword of joint elven and dwarven make. The design and practicality is dwarven in nature, however, the materials it is composed of is from an elven source. Een so, it was not created to be wielded by either dwarven or elven hands, but human hands, for the size alone is too great for a dwarf, and the large and crude design is unusual for graceful elven fencing. Additionally, there are enchantments placed on the weapon from all three races.

The sword Zirandubar weighs somewhere around 34 kg and measures a total of 200 cm in length, the hilt measures 46 cm, while the blade measures 154 cm. The entire weapon is made of a single piece of mithril, a very strong silver coloured metal of elven make, though it is not polished and the blade lacks luster. The long handle of the weapon is wrapped in white bandages for a better grip. The cutting surface of the blade is the longest part of the weapon and exhibits a slightly concaved curve, whereas the backing of the blade is very thick and heavy. The blade’s edge is angled at forty-five degrees on either side, giving the cutting surface a perfect right angle. For this reason, the blade is not considered sharp by regular standards, however, its weight alone easily provides enough force to cause the heavy blade to tear through flesh and armour easily. Essentially, it appears similar to a giant meat cleaver, dull compared to other blades, but its weight and sheer size alone allows it to crush and tear through even tempered steel with little resistance.

Zirandubar recognizes Tzenidaar as its true owner, as its first encounter against an enemy showed that the man was well versed in the use of a two handed sword, especially the fact of its great weight and size without hesitation of lack of skill against greater odds and without lack of courage. Additionally, it sensed a great power within him, even if the man himself knows little of it. Perhaps it was these factors which affected the weapon’s choice of a master, or maybe it was that the weapon had been lying in a lifeless room for too long and was grateful for the man’s actions to put it back into action.

Zirandubar possesses minor sentience and has six enchantments placed upon it; three from the dwarves which forged the weapon, two from elves which created the material, and one from humans who now wields the blade.

The giant meat cleaver would materialize in his hand even as he swung it up to meet the flaming bird as it bore down on him.

Quote: Human Enchantment - Word of Recall: Zirandubar can be summoned to its master at will, from any location unless it is held in an area which prevents teleportation and other similar means of travel.

What was this? A simple blade against something like that? Even if heat didnt do much of anything at all to him, an explosive force would easily toss him around.

He was insane? Out of his mind? He might just be, for he even blasted straight towards it with the third and final charge of the divine wind which he had collected during his calm waiting period, augmenting his boosting capabilities to the extreme as he continued to tear through the ambient air pressure. He was fast, mach faster than he had ever previously displayed, thus was the power of the divine wind.

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

Quote: Dwarven Enchantment - Torn Magicka: Due to the natural dwarven mistrust for magic, Zirandubar is able to cut ‘magic’ effects apart, or rather, supernatural effects created by an external energy. For example, in the case of a fireball or a small moving object, it would split into two halves and continue moving, while in the case of a force field or other sort of barrier, it would tear a hole into it. Used in desperation in accordance to Tzenidaar’s emotional state, it is possible to emit a large cutting wave rather than just the surface of the blade to cut ‘magic’.

And like so, the Phoenix would be slain, split in twain as Tzenidaar hopped through the opening which was completely torn into the beast created from a massive energy cutting wave. The two halves would simply keep going on whatever direction they had gone before, their trajectory altered slightly by the angle of the blade's edge. The slash would seal the wound completely, as if it was now two objects rather than one large one, and there was no man for them to strike against and explode upon. It anything, they're probably angle off towards the spectators and surrounding crowd. By the spectator's perspective, it would be almost as if he had flashed right through the bird, so quick was it that it was hard to catch by those who were not watching closely, tearing through the seventeen feet of its length in a mere moment.

But now, his arm would have been up, risen to cleave the bird in half from the ground up, he came at the woman not even in a position to make an attack? How stupid.

If only that was actually true.

One hand, it was all he needed. Can you hear it?

Quote: Elven Enchantment - Featherweight: To the true wielder of the weapon, Zirandubar appears to weigh nothing more than eight pounds, allowing the user to wield the weapon in one hand with relative ease, yet, the power of its blows are not diminished, as its true weight still remains, only the wielder is not affected by it.

Fast. With the addition of the divine wind boosting his movement, it only took a split second for him to bring the weapon around to swing back down in a heavy cleaving arch right after he dealt with the flaming animal.

The seventy-five pound, six foot long, concave blade would come bearing down upon her with hardly even a moment to realise what had fully happened.

A final attack.

Quote: Dwarven Enchantment - Cleaving Might: The blade does not cut through objects as it is not extremely sharp, but rather, is able to rip and tear through things due to its mass and weight. Though the weapon itself is deadly when striking living objects, it is extremely effective against large solid objects, such as boulders or even armour.

At the velocity it moved at, with the weight it carried, with the amount of force Tzenidaar was able to swing the weapon with, and the additional of that which augments the striking power of the weapon, one thing can easily be said about it:

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

one direct shot from that baby and you can call it a day.

The air around the blade literally seemed to arch downwards, almost visible, like the ripples of a speed boat tearing through the waters of the sea.

Did you hear the melodious voice of the Divine Wind?

Fin.

This would be the end of it. How fast Ra'kar was would determine her fate, whether she lived, died, or lost weight faster than any diet ever could do for her.

"Guy went and got himself all cut up."

That was all the TAT Captain had to say... Sierra had put forth quite an effort, but despite her years of experience as an archmage, her magic had done nothing for her. She had been left to defend herself with her wits, her reflexes, and her weapons.

There was no mistake about it, even if it hadn't been who he had chosen to send out, Joshua was no less pleased with how things had gone. This fight, the very first fight of the tournament, was an example to everyone:

We are not men. We are monsters.

Team a** Tear

There is no metaphor for how ******** you are.

"Whoever decides to be," was the responce... and it was so very true. Who would fight next was whoever decided it would be them to fight next. Whatever name Joshua picked out of a hat wouldn't suffice in the face of that kind of conviction.

"..."

The a** Tear captain took a few steps forwards into the fighting area. The bell had sounded, there was no danger of interfering with a fight or need to call a Striker for him to enter, it was his prerogative. With his left hand he tugged down the edge of his right hand bracer, pulling it off to bare the skin on his forearm... then, with a deft motion, he cut a deep gash across the arm with his knife. Then another. Then another. Then another...

Wiping the blood off of the blade and onto the skin, he snapped the knife back into its sheath and dug his fingertips into the cuts; tearing flesh and peeling off the skin until he had a pound of his own flesh in one hand.

"Patch yourself up!"

He threw the piece of meat at the butcher, who by now would be walking out of the ring. Tzennidar needed to eat to restore himself, Joshua did not... Already new fibers of muscle and skin were growing to fill the gap that had been cut in his own flesh. It would take a few minutes more since he had no intention of rushing things, but the expression the a** Tear Captain wore said it all: cool, calm, calculating. It wasn't a show of pity or self-sacrifice for his wounded team mate, it was the proper medicine for the proper ailment for a proper comrade in arms.

"And when you're done-" he turned over his shoulder to look back at the homunculus, "go get me a sandwich. Now I'm hungry too, damnit."

It wasn't true, he wasn't hungry... at least not yet. But one does not create matter from nothing. Where once he had a full stomach in a few minutes he would have an empty one... the process of metabolism being sped to incredible rates to break down what was in his stomach and turn it into his own flesh to fill that gap in his arm. By the time Tzennidar returned he might be hungry enough to eat what was left of Liberii Fatali's next fighter.

"Second fight! Get in there!"

Joshua waved a hand at their next fighter... though who it was would be hard to tell, considering Stryphe and Maximos were standing so close together; Maxi showing off his new music player.

"You."

It didn't echo through every piece of furniture in the room, but it certainly got the point across.

"Go show them not to be afraid of death, but to be afraid of what comes before it."

Neither the shadows nor the yelling phazed Meria. Once she saw Sierra/Ra'kar out of the flames, then and only then would Meria make her way towards her captain. She didn't touch her, but spoke gently, with Fae's voice more than Meria's.

"Do you wish some assistance?" She would offer, not out of kindness, but because Meria, like Ra'kar did not lose. And she would be needed later on in the other battles.

Ra'kar's pupil's flickered back into existance, but the golden orbs burned as brightly as they had during the fight while the demoness' body was repairing itself.

The slits of obsidian narrowed on Fae/Meria and her body jerked forward violently as if she would seize the tiny woman. But the taloned hand that reached out, froze and the scrawling markings dissipated from her flesh, leaving Sierra staring at the woman, her eyes speaking a soft 'sorry' at what had almost happened.

:: I would... But I'm afraid the best way to heal myself is with blood and power. And I would not bleed any of you nor drain your resources during a match. Might I have use of your shadows however, mixed with mine and my flame, the external energy will make a most excellent regenerative. ::

She casts a glance at Rain and asks Meria.

:: Tell him thank you please... How's he doing? I would ask him, but he doesn't like it when he hears voices in his head. ::

Her thoughts would be coloured with laughter as she couldn't smile properly at the moment.

Even heat seaking missiles moved within a realistic angle of manueverability in accordance to its velocity.

If the bird which had charged at Tzenidaar first, moving forward in response to his ability to rip through its wind buffet, initiating the attack which prompted his response to cleave it in half would part, it wouldnt do much but provide an even larger opening for the man to bear in for his strike, the wind which had been visibly seen parting, an impossible fact alone, would attest to the amount of driving force which was given off by the weapon. If it had to move, if it could be touched, cut, destroyed, had a physical presence which had to connect with a body to explode, it was tangible. It was not a generic force or ball of energy, it had shape, it was a bird, something which would put limits on its physical abilities to move while retaining such shape. By that fact alone, something with tangibility, like the flames, which was given shape as a large bird, would have to be blown away by the proximity of the wind force generated, aided if it didnt even bother to resist, moving out of the way first.

If indeed the energy which happened to manifest itself as flames truely been able to part and then come back, arch around, and strike the man in a split second as he parted it, that would simply just be amazing as there was simply no notice given in that split second of his defensive retaliation and final strike; there wouldnt even be a single second for that realization to become conscious thought as the cleaver came crashing down.

But all that didnt matter, since it was the end of the fight, and had already been determined that it would hit no matter what. And because the writer doesnt give a crap about that, or any of the other things which happened, he will just go along and let the judges sort it out.

The energy came from behind him, slowed down by the tunnelling wind currents which marked his forward drive. The blade came down, tearing a swath through the air.

Nothing. No body.

The ground in front of his literally exploded, tiles, concrete, even pipes which were not deep enough would be completely annihilated, rendered into nothing more than a mess of unrecognizable rubble as it flew everywhere, puncturing into Tzenidaar's exposed torso.

He grunted in pain, from both the shrapnel jabbing into him and the motion of the downward swing which would put strain on his left side, but even then, his subconscious primal and anamalistic senses were still active. Something was wrong. The heat in the area never disappeared, it never moved away, it wasnt even affected at all.

He turned his head over his shoulder to see the flames bear down on him.

Completely unaffected. His efforts were once again reduced to nothing. Wasted. Futile. USELESS.

He was absolutely determined and confident that his actions in that tiny moment would come as a surprise and that he had done it by that strike which had connected with nothing. Apparently not.

He'd be damned if he was going to get struck by that invincible thing.

Oh wait, he was already damned.

And then it would explode against his back, but even as it did, the moment he realised its presence, he would have begun defending himself. It impacted against... His wings.

Blasting him forward into the crowd which had gathered around the arena as the skeletal appendages and the concentrated sheets of air between them took the brunt of the explosive force, like a wall, vaporizing the right appendage instantly and twisting the left one completely out of place, leaving it as just some hanging mess.

He didnt feel pain. Only numbness as he lay in a pile of spectators and listened to dull sound of ringing in his ears - the only sound he heard at the moment - as he grogilly moved, pushing people out of the way with a scowl on his face.

Well, the fight was over, which meant he had to get off of the field, even though he already was off, baing in the crowd and all. But he would wander towards his team anyway.

He couldnt really hear anything with the ringing still in his head, but he did catch the action his captain made, cutting his own arm and tossing the pieces at him.

He caught it with his left hand, the only one useable, no longer holding the weapon which he had let go of after that painful last strike. No, it was just somewhere on the field, or maybe in a spectators face with the explosion that threw him through the air. He didnt bother to look for it.

He simply began to eat the flesh as he sat down on the floor, eyes staring blankly through the air. He couldnt hear what was happening at the moment, though the ringing would begin to die down, any sounds only sounding distorted and extremely low pitched.

He would slowly begin to regenerate from the 'food'.

Kain leaped over the rail, his wings catching the air and quickly glided him to the heavily damaged battle floor. He moved to his teams side of the area and summoned his Obsidian Odachi, 'Tempest', called from the same place as his flail. A small spark of fire glided from just above his clenched fist (fist) and moved a ways behind him before dispersing.

The Blade itself was 5'5", the hilt a good foot in length. He brought it out to the side and then flicked his wrist to change the position of the sword in his hand and crossed it over his chest, hilt being just above the right hip and sword tip reaching his left shoulder.

So, the Devil was equipped with his weapon of choice and armoured with his blood. If Maxi was at all observant he'd noticed the bulk of what would look like congealed blood peeking out from the top undone buttons of his shirt. Other than a pair of knee high leather boots, cotton was his only defense for all other areas.

"Alright, Let's get this go--Oh s**t, one sec..."

Kain reached into his left breast pocket and brought out a cig. He lit'er up and took a couple puffs before moving his left hand to the small metallic shaft protruding from around his lumbar area.

"Ok, we're cool now."

"Pick something with missiles, it'll be better for the both of us."

"Why not this one"

"Because I'm using the Flying Pancake. Homing lasers and a half screen protective bomb, using that one would be useless."

"But this one has a fullscreen bomb, this way we'll never get hit."

"Goddamnit, but we'll run out of bombs. I can only stockpile three special shots, it'll take forever to kill bosses."

Joseph Brown and R. Agent Five were nestled into an empty arcade in the Marketplace. HoH was a great time to skip the lines, it seems everyone was more enamored with real violence than cartoon.

"Fine." Agent gave up and picked the plane Joseph wanted him to use. It was absolutely useless to argue with his boss when he had his mind made up. Especially when it was about redundant s**t like video games, "Is Stryphe fighting yet?"

"Do you hear anything exploding?" Joseph was mashing the buttons and jerking the joystick.

"Yes," Agent held his to charge his supershot, "Yes I do."

"That gooey kind of Stryphums explosion that makes you feel warm inside?" His tone was overly sugary, but strangely the point was gotten across.

There was a pause as the two played the game. Clearly the havoc in the background wasn't caused by the demon both parties had been behind and victim to in the past. Plus the mall was, you know, still standing.

"No... And you're stealing all the powerups." The explosions weren't jiving right in Agents carefully trained ears, and Joseph was.

"Do you have homing lasers?"

"No. But I have the missiles, that was the whole point of me choosing this plane."

"Yeah, but really it was so I didn't have to share the power-ups"

There was a grunt from behind Agent's face bandages triggered by how big a d**k Joseph was.

"When Stryphe fights I walk." Joseph's bodyguard laid down his ultimatum as they beat the goddamn blimp boss.

"Even if we're on the last boss?" The CEO used the moments reprieve between levels just to give Agent a good old fashioned glance n' grin.

Another heavy sigh.

Agent admitted defeat, he liked this game too much not to finish it.

Maximos smirked.

The sword came up, striking the tentacles rubbery flesh and sinking deep.

Maximos had never made a simple attack in his life, everything came with a plan within a plan, within a plan. Where minds are clouded with emotion, concern, fear, Maximos' had none. The seconds wasted on "Oh no!" were replaced with cold calculation.

The tentacle's tip was sliced clean off, almost immediately the tiny appendage stretched and whiplashed out at its attacks face. As Kain was moving forward, the tiny limb would have a much easier time. It had no teeth or fangs or hidden blades, its only real goal was just to block his eye sight, and drip black tar-like goo all over his face.

The main shaft however, once finishing the whiplash movement immediately went back for seconds swinging fiercely to the right, its tip refining again from the flat sliced surface. It swung lower this time, planning to take advantage of Kain's hopeful blindness and swing just below the hips, at the legs. It seemed simple enough, it had no intention of just impacting the legs like a bat if it hit, much like a boa it would immediately aim to constrict and draw in its prey with lightning quick speed. He might notice that once looped, the tentacle melded with itself, forming an actual solid circular tie as opposed to simple spiralling around him.

While Maximos didnt know about mental weaponry, he did know that the tentacle was not a seperate being. It was his arm, more a part of him as any shadows in his radius were. While, during its construction the shadows had to be commanded into forging the limb, once it was attached to that cursed right arm of his, those shadows entirely lost any sort of seperation, they were his arm completely as if born that way, no seperation existing.

[II]

Rain looked over to Sierra with wide eyes, somewhat shocked.

"You're... you're thanking me? I didn't even do anything, just played peanut gallery..." he saw her look past him in the direction of the food court, her mind already wandering.

"Here, you know what? Your thanks is payment up front for me grabbing you something to eat. You stay there to rest, I'll be right back." He looked from her over to the ring where Kain and Maximos had started their own fight, nodding to the vice-captain once in support, then jogged off.

"So... their entire team doesnt know how to get close or something?" Tzenidaar asked Joshua as he finished the chunk of the man's arm, refering to the fight whose similarities to the beginning of his was obvious. At that point, he had shifted from sitting on the floor to squatting, the balls of his feet against the floor as his knees were bent, a** hovering only eight inches off the surface of the ground or so, his torso slightly leaning forward to balance himself.

At that time, he was able to hear some things clearly, but not all. The smaller wounds on his body would have healed, leaving small blemishes in his skin. As for the larger wounds in his left side and armpit, there were simply visible scars. However, for the extensive damage he had suffered, his wings remained destroyed. But he didnt mind so much. He couldnt feel it. The right wing was missing, and there would be just a stump until he had fed more to regenerate the entire limb. And his left wing was simply rendered useless, the nervous tissue severed as the ruined appendage just sort of hung loosely on his back.

He held up his right hand to head level, opening and closing it. Fixed. And just as it would come back down, the giant meat cleaver would materialize, the large blade resting on his shoulder by its blunt side. Well, his upper body wasnt clothed anymore, and the metal pieces were all gone. He might as well at least keep something on him so he didnt look so... naked.

Tzenidaar simply watched the match from then on. If their entire team was going to act the same way, pull the same tricks, then it would be very easy to come up with several strategies to counter it. The basis of his body was derived from one man, who was able to take on an army in the underground section of the city Lament. It took the entire incompetent army to take him down, but an entire army nonetheless. One man. Not because he was especially powerful, but because he was extremely resourceful with near genius intellect. Naturally, Tzenidaar would be making calculations as he simply watched, in no such frenzied state as combat to affect a long string of thought and calculations. As much as he hated the man, he was essentiially him, and he would perform such habits, analyzing things silently.

He was confident in his team, and if things were going to be essentially same, if the strategy to defend and hope to lure out an opening would be the same as before, then it would not be hard to figure out what to do. His right eye remained green. He didnt look away from the fight, watching intent from the lethal actions and even the smallest of details. Everything was a factor.

STRIKER - OFFENSIVE

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

The movements would now make themselves known as he too leaped. Kain's left wing opening, taking the spikes in it's great leathery expanse accepting the minimal damage/pain factor, the tip extending towards/under Maxi heaving up like a vertical slash to catch him, if not in between the legs...and in the junk, then under the arm. Having punched thick leathery wings with spikes, they would have traction and would then probably follow in league with the wing's movement and would throw the punch wide, opening up his right side as the wing continued out.

Kain's lowered position was made for a brutal attack with the right wing, more powerful than the left's. Kain leaped, his right wing kicking up dust and debris as it came around for an attack at Maxi's left floating ribs. From the actions of the left wing, the large thing would move Kain more to Maxi's left and adding more room on his left and, therefore, more power.

Well, if a whack from a swan can break a man's arm, what would a 225lbs Devil with massive 7 foot wings do? Probably rupture a couple organs, zee spleen included, left kidneys, and broken ribs. From the force of the blow it was lucky also to puncture a lung. If the attack could follow through, Kain would proceed to slam him into the concrete floor...

As soon as the man leaped up into the air, as soon as his wings unfurled. Off the ground, no base. Like a parachute. Parachutes are designed to catch air, effectively slowing the descent of whatever tied it down.

His right hand released the meat cleaver's hilt, letting its great weight tip over his shoulder as the fulcrum and crash down into the floor behind him, between the stump of what was his right wing and the mess that was his left. Clearly, no spectator was even close to him. Who would? He was completely brutal and a canibal.

But, before the sword would even rotate thirty degrees, his right hand would have already shot out in a fist as he lunged from the edge of the 'outside' area into the arena. The spectators roared; those which loved the brutality and violence the chimera provided cheered and those which hated him screamed as they realized he was making a striker attack, his face showing the malicious intent clearly.

He was a person which you either hated, or loved.

So quickly, he had just left a fight not too long ago, healed, and was already going in for some more?

Quote: Cyclone Cannon: When released, a small cyclone erupts from his arm outwards, just large enough to encompass one person. Those caught in the winds are spiraled off in a chaotic spin caused by a small, short lived, heavily concentrated twister of air force which propels outwards. This move is most effectively used against a creature with wings, for the chaotically powerful winds are easily caught by the large surface area of the appendages which provide the ability of flight, resulting in the possibly tearing of membrane and feathers as well as twisting the bones and joints out of place with a sudden and powerful jerking motion.

There was no magic involved. The ability to manipulate the air with a short yet extremely powerful burst of force was purely supernatural. Anit-magic, that which interferes with the energy which forms magical effects was useless here.

With the way the two were positioned, Maximos with his back to his teammates, Kain facing team a** TEAR, they would both be caught in the cyclone, both sent spinning away in that second, both in mid-air with no base to attach themselves to something safe.

What was he, an idiot? Making an attack that stikes his teammate as well?

But that didnt realy matter. No member of team a** TEAR had any problems whatsoever with striking each other. They werent the friendliest to each other. If anything, Maximos' job would be to one-up Tzenidaar's performance. The main target was the man behind Maximos. When he opened up both his wings, he was practically making an invitation to attack, even if his body wasnt the one which would initially feet the bursting cyclone. Those were the targets, not one, but both, they would both be caught.

So fast, so forceful, out of nowhere, the cyclone would rip into the fighters. It would hurl Maximos forward towards Kain, but at the same time, Kain's wings would catch the amazing cyclone of force, jerking his body backwards, both moving in a chaotic rapid spiral through the air.

By that time, it would be too late to try to jab anything into the ground and try to prevent the chaotic winds from throwing either man. If such was done, it would either forcefully tear their hands off, snap their limbs, or if both fails, the ground would simply tear, carried along with it.

How much time did it take to perform a punch? A real punch, as if he was going to blast the man's face off with physical contact? A split second. So far, that was all the time used during this striker assist. And he was definately not done.

As both men would be caught in the cyclone, his left hand would fly out in a similar motion, effectively mimmicing the motions of his right, And just like that, a second cyclone erupted in the very air the first one had. A cyclone within a cyclone, but it would dispel the first one soon after; both cyclones existing at the same time for but a single second before the first one died and the second one took control.

Quote: Cyclone Tunnel: Similar to the cyclone cannon, the tunnel version works in two ways, as a following combo strike, or as its own function. As its own attack, it functions exactly like the cyclone cannon, but the air moves in the opposite direction, sucking towards him before dissappating around the sides of his body. The rotation however, is not a reversed version. If the cyclone cannon fires off rotating clockwise, the cyclone vacuum also rotates clockwise.

However, as a combo, spanning from the cyclone cannon, the tunnel version expands the 'life', or more accurately, duration of the initial cyclone for just a second. During such a time, on the interior of the cyclone, a second one is created, expanding the first one foot out as if to push it away as it occupies the space of the first, rotating in the same manner as the first cyclone but pulling in the opposite direction as the initial twister. The two small tornados only exist at the same time for a moment before the initial one on the outside dies out. Unlike the cyclone cannon, which may cripple wing-like appendages, the cyclone tunnel more or less will definitely cause this; for the existence of both twisters at the same time, pulling, pushing, and twisting in an opposite direction that essentially ccrosses over one another with the amount of force and suddenness that they are, essentially guarantees the effects.

Both fighters would stall in midair for a second as they would continue to rotate in the same direction, but now, they would be flying in the other direction, towards Team a** TEAR's side of the stage, following the path straight towards the grinning Tzenidaar.

The seconds tornado essentailly ate the first one, growing in power to be even more powerful. And with the existence of both at once, and Kain's wings being the target to be caught, if they were not crippled with the first shot, they would be with the second.

Total time used from the first fist thrown to the second one? One second; maybe two second at most, but that was stretching it considering the speed of which a person could throw two punches with two hands one after the other. There was still eight seconds left, and a small portion of such would be that of the two bodies flying towards the man who initialted the striker.

So, assuming that the time it took for both men to fly towards Tzenidaar took two seconds from whatever distance they were at, as they would be moving quite quickly; that left at least six seconds left in his striker assist, and at most, eight seconds maybe?

His torso would have been somewhat twisted to his right side, following the path of his second punch thrown with his left hand, it would have to move in that direction for at least a little bit.

[Following striker post to come with the results of this action, results of the incomplete striker will not go to the overall 17 fight post count.]

The horrific bite on his left wing sent the Devil into a frenzy, the thought of having dealt with the damnable tentacle thing and having it turn around to bite him on on the a** ...er... wing did NOT make him happy. It gave him more incentive to execute his plan to end the sapping thing. He could feel the tentacle like things searching out the threads and juices of the wing, soon it would reach his arm.

The two swords that erupted from the stones he had shot to the side, AGAIN IT HAPPENED, Damn, Damn, Damn and Blast it all! He was definitely full of tricks, though, with the movements made by his wings that would bring Kain more to Maxi's left side and Maxi now attached to the left wing would bring the fellow in direct line with the sword scissors and also closer together... Wind magic. Tzen, using that tornado he had used against Sierra, it was fast, but B'Geebus, it was more instant than packaged noodles!

Kain's right wing would still wrap around Maxi as well before the wrenching bit of the cyclone could make it to the two men, considering their position in the center of such a large fighting space, wind still has to travel, giving him a big ol' friendly hug. Kain's tail held steadfast to his leg, snaking its way from the base of his rump.

As the two combatants twisted as one in the torrent of wind, spinning them faster than any Top could accomplish, Kain would feel pressure on his chest from his blade, the razored edge no doubt injuring Maxi. Tzen was nuts, he would so readily endanger his teammate! Kain felt a sharp tug on his hair as was the place that Maxi had managed to catch when he struggled for a hold. Kain looked for a hold too...remember that dagger, guarding Kain's right side? The Devil would sink the blade(1ft) into his opponent's side, during the brief calm they had, to get in a firm hold - Maxi and he were connected on the left wing and the right would be holding them together from being torn apart.

As the cyclone would thrash them about, so would Kain's hold, his right wing flying viciously backwards, an incredible snap reaching out from the winds that made the on lookers with bated breath to wince and hold there mouths to stem the possibility of vomit, as would Kain's dagger which would create a nasty gash on Maxi's left side, opening from the middle of the waist to inches before the belly button are, no doubt an injured kidney and several intestinal sections damaged.

Now, without the defense of the wing to protect his arm from the prevailing winds, his right arm too would be taken into its malicious pull, bringing with it...Kain's Odachi. If we'd been paying attention, we'd know that his weapon crossed his body from right hip to left shoulder and he wasn't about to release his weapon, if anything the strong winds made him grip it more tightly. The crash that would bring them together, certainly meant danger.Considering the length of the blade and the pressure/will of Kain, the blade would be pressured to sink into the right collarbone, probably breaking it when they colided and before Kain couldn't resist the winds any longer and was thrown back as well. The odachi whipping out and backwards with Kain's right arm, the blade would make a clean and deep slash across Maxi's chest from Maxi's right shoulder to the left hip.

And with the abrupt change of wind patterns, Kain's right wing would be sent flying back at Maxi by the winds and would probably crack him on the side of the head. If the force of the wind could break the Devil's wing and the mass of the wing itself, well, it'd be enough to knock Maxi out. Kain's right arm, being sickly bent and done again but the opposite direction, it had no choice but to break free just above the elbow joint. The Odachi sent flying from the cyclone at an alarming speed and into a nearby pillar, not so much as bending. It just stopped and was still. Like the Sword in the Stone. Kain's left remained tightly held to his body.

The Aerial onslaught didn't end, as they were pulled towards Tzen...

[4]

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

[i]As the two combatants twisted as one in the torrent of wind, spinning them faster than any Top could accomplish, Kain would feel pressure on his chest from his blade, the razored edge no doubt injuring Maxi. Tzen was nuts, he would so readily endanger his teammate! Kain felt a sharp tug on his hair as was the place that Maxi had managed to catch when he struggled for a hold.[4]

Maximos had done some dumb things in his life. Some outright ridiculous things, it cost him two hands before he realized that you do not put your hand all the way down to the spinny part of the blender. It originally took him exactly 23 minutes to work an elevator, in the end it was shown to him. The very first time he bought coffee he paid with a handful of gems from a pouch, 3 diamonds the size of bouncy balls, and one ruby the size of a qaurter. Thankfully Lucind only too the quarter.

But every bit of that, could be chocked up to Maximos's simplistic upbringing, what Maximos was not...was stupid.

He would not let his swords just sit between them, they were off and to the side, and when the attack came ready, without commands being given they would be trying very diligently to catch up to Kain and there owner.

He did not grab that hair, just so that he could pull it. On a television in the mall he saw little girls in strange uniforms doing that. He grabbed it for use as a grip. He knew the demon had horns, but he knew he had a head too. A head with a brain. With a firm grip on the hair he would bring his head crashing in for a slamming headbut. Followed by another, and another and another.

Clearly to headbutt he had to pull to two men closer. Very close, to smash his skull into his opponents. And if the shadow had anything....it was a hard head. And if headbutting does anything that makes it hard to see around you, because it puts a big FACE in your way. In Maximos's case, an unearthly black shadowy face under a hood, with only a glowing eye to prove there was even a top to his head.

If Kain could see straight, or see for long enough to aim. Or if he could move his arm, with the other 5 free tentacles trying to bind it. Only 8 were used on the wing. The others were free.

If he did suceed, he would be met with the sound of flesh tearing, and the warmth of blood soaking his hands.

Kain wielded an Odachi, which translates to Big Sword, and thats just what it was, the blade is typically 3ft long, not including the hilt, this is without making mention of the room needed to swing, or the room needed to actually lift his arm up and back and grab the thing. Niether of the above two spaces were being given because....Maximos was busy slamming his head into Kains repeatedly. There was barely 1ft of space between them, much less the space needed for Kains arm to swing, or for the sword to even fit. Especially as Maximos's right arm was constantly pulling back, as each of the tentacles tried to rend the wing off. This applying constant pressure to Kains back, forcing the two men into extreme close range.

As for the wing. Sure, Kain could try, but with the eratic flight pattern, he wasnt likely to get a clear shot, and with how close there heads were he was morely likely to hit his head and Maximos' head than just Maximos. And thats if Maximos didnt just jerk his head, by the hair, into the path of the wing.

Its true, the two were whirling like a psychotic top. But Maximos was doing one repetive action. Simply because there situation allowed for no real working defense from it, or real alternatives. Because of that, he wasnt exactly using a very high level of brain function, leaving some to direct his swords. The swords were soaring in blade first, slicing the wind to keep a straight angle as they rode the current, Maximos had to wait for the exact angle. The moment of surprise. That moment when Kain was sure Tzen was going to pull something and then....

-Shinkt!-

The sound of metal griding against bone, and ripping through flesh.

Flesh was a weakness, as was pain. By his own command, Maximos had driven his swords, both of them, through is own back out his front and aimed to drive them into Kain. He was careful withhimself, careful slide just past the heart, between two ribs, and straight down. That surgical precision was also used to aim the blades targets...Kain's lungs. Two swords, two lungs. The timing had to be perfect, he had to strike while his head was slammed into Kains, just so that Kain wouldnt get the change to see the swords. And while he was busy pulling the mans body in for the slam.

Lungs are like baloons, once popped, they hold no air. It wasnt a matter of will power, just impossibility. Meaning, suffocation. And its hard to heal that type of wound when the sword is still present. You see these swords didnt just float. They were a part of Maximos, a piece of his soul each one, they were commanded like a part of his body. They struck and drove, aiming to break both fighters violently out of the spin and literally impale them into the ground just about 6ft shy of Tzen.

Maximos was grinning. One of those sickly grins with a blood spilling from his lips, staining his smiling teeth red. Blood gushed from an open wound on his head from severe beatings. A few drops dripping all over Kain's face. Oooh...what a revolting spectacle. You could even see him quivering, but not because he was in pain, but because he was trying not to laugh, laughter would be rude. We cant be rude...

You see pain was no stranger to the pain. Pain was a friend, a deep close companion he kept oh so near at all times. He loved the feeling, much more than was healthy. Oh sure, in a few minutes when the adrenaline faded, he would be in serious pain, but for now, the injuries had driven him into such a battle high, he felt the glorious ache and tasted blood...and loved it.

Loved it enough that he wanted more....You see, as the two swords ripped through his body he released Kain's hair, a flick of the wrist placed something particular in his left hand.

Maximos Wrote:

Sword Stones: The Shadow Warrior is hardly ever seen without these odd stones to date. If he isnt holding them, or playing with them between his fingers, they can be heard clinking together in his pockets. They look most like Othello pieces, or the marbles of a Go board. But when held down to the darkness, a single rune can be seen glowing inside of each one of them. Maximos is always seen holding five of them, never more.

Another stone. And you see, as it stood, it could place that stone where he wanted on Kains body. The stone was perched between his index and middle fingers, his blood soaked digits were moving toward Kain's forehead, and slowly down...an eye? An ear? A throat? The heart?

Maximos could have taken more...alot more. He wanted more! He thrived off of this. The question for Kain was...

Do you want more?

A simple yes or no woudl do. Something the judges could hear or see. The human body can go a few minutes without air, and there were healers around...likely unconciousness would kick in first though. In the mean time, the tentacles, after having completed a loop or three around the wings and arm, had begun digging into the ground, trying to work there way into the tiles to "capture" the prey to the ground.

((Sorry K-dawg, its 6:30 in the am. I'm sort of tired and so I really couldnt get that post, I had to improvise.))

[V]

He was right, Maximos did not notice the armor in the slightest. Though during a headbutt, usually only the two opponents heads meet. Maximos didnt plan on laying on Kain, or kissing Kain so there was no reason for there chests to meet. So unless he was going to move that sword of his, it would be really difficult to jump the gap, all on its own.

But a battle just wasnt fun until there was a debate as to where there was more blood inside. Or out. The head butts, at least on Maximos' end, wouldnt really stop at all. It would take alot more than a headache to convince a man who would run himself through, that he was done for.

Maximos really wasnt expecting a puppeteering creature either. While the slice did infact sever the tendons, and drop the stone, that might have been a mistake. The stone would not activate in his hand, Kain was below him. And following the stones course, it would go from forehead, to neck...to...drop...rather harmlessly on the floor beside Kain's neck.

If an icky tendril and rising heat was the worst Kain had to offer, Maximos had time to spare. Though all he needed was a second.

Yes, he was laughing, but as he was laughing something was changing. It was something in his voice, it sounded off. Like instead of coming from two vibrating vocal chords it was echoing deeper...through something more...or perhaps not.

The glow would be visible as it started at the center of his chest and immediately shot outward a deep violet glow ripped across both arms, his chest, and back. The plum hue seemed to fill in runes hidden beneath his clothes, it seemed Maximos was hiding a trick or two up his sleave...or underneath his shirt...or just plain under his clothes, however you like.

While he transformation itself was rather painful, with the pain of two swords jabbed through his chest, slit tendons in his wrist, his head being smashed against another mans skull, a stab wound to his gut, and finally his own cursed arm...he didnt have any room to show it. It was really rather quick. His skin grew a bit paler, and the wieght of the swords pressing against Kain's armor was almost entirely gone.

As for Kain's lance, it found itself suddenly transported from swirling through flesh, to being lost in nothing but hollow black. It would have a few seconds before the shadow curse overtook it, like it had just overtaken Maximos' form, lest it escaped. The effect, while magical, was based in Maximos' very core. Kains sword would likely have to run him through to reach.

The swords retreated, a tar like icky blood substance gushed from both open wounds covering unsanctimoniously splatting on Kain's armor and face. This form had a sort of black blood coursing through it's shell, though not much else. The Devil would find that the tendrils and their choking grip were gone, with clean shove from both hands Maximos pushed himself up and back landing nimbly on two feet. The two swords took up an arrangement behind him, simply hovering in the air. While the cuts in his were still visible, shadow swirled into threads were mending the cloth. And the cloth alone. The black drops trickling down his fingertips revealed that. But if this shell was empty, what was this black stuff?

He waved back, the fight was young, the warm-up was over. Flesh and blood was always good for such fun and games...but it was time to get serious. Maximos had done his share of attacking, he wanted to see what Kain could do.

A crackle rippled from his eye. A smile persed across his deathly pale lips.

Maximos Wrote:

• Shadow Curse Release - Altra Somes de Nox noctis

When the curse struck Maximos's village it transformed literally everything in the Shadow Lands into shadow. The residents lost their bodies and were trapped as wandering spirits. The concentration was so heavy it polluted even the spirit realm. The residents of the Shadow Lands being spirit soaked in this dark bath until eventually it became a part of them. This granted them the ability to control and maneuver the darkness. And thusly gave Maximos the ability to shape and form shadow to his will.

Imagine a ghost, now take that ghost and place it in a suit of armor. And finally squeeze that armor around the ghost so tight that if you were to touch, burn, cut, slash, or really interact with it at all physically the ghost would feel it. But really whatever you do to the armor, its nothing more than a tool by which to experience the world. And if its destroyed, the ghost is simply left homeless. That is Maximos in his Shadow Form. Simply replace the armor with hardened shadow. It carries a pool of shadow so tight that regular light cant break through thusly allowing Maximos to step out in the sun.

Maximos is able to perform this shift at will, though it takes an extreme amount of effort, and has been know to have its side effects. The Shadow Form is much less durable, and its cracks and breaks transfer when Maximos reverts back to human form. A severed or shattered arm, will return to flesh as an arm broken in three or four different places. Injuries no longer go without pain. But in return, in his Shadow Form his speed, and durabilty pain resistance are greatly increased as he lacks the muscle mass and nerve endings to feel pain...or anything for that matter.

The entire transformation takes a second, and is usually clearly visible as the Lunoc Runes throughout his body begin to glow.

[VI]

Sierra had been watching the fight closely as it progressed. Her keen elven eyes taking in every movement made, letting no detail escape her notice. This was the advantage to being outside the fight, the leisure in which she could assess every action and subsequent reaction. But nothing less was to be expected of a captain. It was her responsibility to know her teammates and what they were capable of. Watching like a protective hawk in case she needed to make a lightening fast decision.

Her eyes narrowed as Maximos grabbed a fistful of that beautiful raven hair. s**t. NOTE TO SELF: All long hair gets tied back, preferably braided. It should have been a policy from the beginning... Ah well. Nothing like a lesson hard learned to drive something home. 'Sides, she didn't figure she'd be getting any lip from the surly devil after this. And if he did... well there was always a haircut to be discussed.

Given the fact that Maxi had control of his head, the devil's left wing was bound and shadowy tendrils were seeking to ensnare his left arm as well. Things were not looking good for her teammate. She'd remedy that. Give him a fighting chance to turn things around as it were...

Maximos began a brutal barrage of relentless headbutts and Sierra's impulse was to react, SO she reacted. Wasting no time with indecision. Sierra was one of those people, who if she made a decision.. she committed to it completely. Dropping the cold compress Meria had handed her, her finger flicked a red switch on her FIGHTER, indicating an OFFENSIVE STRIKER.

She folds her wings in tight to her back making her body more aerodynamic, the air around her sparking as she dashes to the aide of her Vice Captain. Sierra was fast. And since Tzen had dragged them all the way across the fighting area, she had to be faster than fast. Runic markings once again appeared on her pale flesh, but this time, they covered only her cheeks. A partial shift in under a seconds time and a tribute to the fact that it was Sierra who held the reigns and not Ra'kar. Embracing her demonic form partially, allowed her to utilize her demonic attributes. Elven agility + enhanced speed brought her sprinting across the ring.

When the flames engulfed her form halfway across, she reached outwards mentally. On a channel that had been formed between the devil and the elf when they'd first begun fighting alongside one another, months ago before any plans of joining HoH had even been discussed. A back door that was left open to her when he'd engaged any mental shielding.

:: Kain! Disengage Tempest in exactly one and a half seconds. ::

2 seconds after, [4 seconds total to cross the distance from the sidelines], And she was upon them. Gripping her her sword in her right hand, tip downward and held on angle towards her left side, She would push forward, unfurling her wings in a fury of flame. The right upper wing wrapped around her right side, shielding her shoulder, ribs and thigh and upper leg. She would slam into Maxi, broadsiding him. Opening her wing as she connected doing two things. Slamming into his left side with what would feel like a blazing sledge hammer, likely shattering any bones it impacted against... And opening up room for her to maneuver Elven Fire. The sword would strike out and upwards, severing the tentacles that clung to her teammate as that ebony stone clunked beside Kain's neck on the tiles, before there had been any hint of eerie purple lights.

Now, Given that Tzen had plopped them down right beside the sidelines, when Sierra knocked into Maxi, the force of the impact, increased by the demonic strength she was tapping... would easily carry the man up and over the taped off area, and out of the ring, her own body checking him as she used her momentum to keep them both moving forward and out of the ring. Ending her STRIKER in 7.5 seconds after being initiated.

Sierra would bring them crashing to the ground, rolling off of the Destroyer in agony as her insufficiently healed wings burned with pain. She'd torn something... She wouldn't stand in his way, blocking him from returning to the ring or anything like that... but if he didn't re-enter quickly, he'd be scored down as a ring out.

As his tail would tear the tendons, the tail would thin a little and create a scoop just under where it had lanced the wrist, just before it would fall too far from the hand the scoop would catch and flick that pesky thing far to the right.. Kain knew what those stones were and he wasn't too keen on letting it reach something like his head or neck.

:: Kain! Disengage Tempest in exactly one and a half seconds. ::

Kain would issue out a punch to the waist wound on Maxi.

The Devil would un-summon the weapon, it seemingly blinking out of existence. The flames in which he had summoned the thing was just for show. Not even hinting that he just had a mental conversation with his Captain, his Laugh became a snarl.

Grand slam tackle of Sierras, followed by the separation, which would also do damage to the wing it attached to. But, Sierra's body was inflamed...Kain was a Devil, born from the very womb of Fire.

Quote: Regeneration ::Innate::

• As a High creature of shadow, his healing capabilities are exceptionally quick.

Fire, outside of his own, only acts as a catalyst to the healing - Heals in battle.

The blazing fires that had impacted with Maxi, showered Kain, restoring the damage that would be caused by the severing of Kain's wing and Maximos' tentacle, repairing his broken bones. His wing now available for use again although it would not be to full potential.

With Maxi being taken( to where the members of a** Tear stood) by Sierra, the connection of his tentacles severed by Sierra's blade which would cause any blood to spray away from the men, allowing Kain to not have to worry about the inky gunk(blood?). Kain would push off of the war torn concrete with his Giant wings, bringing him up in sequence to Sierra's and Maxi's departure. Kain would then follow behind the elf/demoness and his opponent, a 7 foot Naginata materializing into his grasp.

Kain's plan, after Sierra bowled over Maxi, Kain would have plenty of room to initiate his attack. He angled his wings to guide along the air waves, lightening his own body mass, making him that much faster. He wouldn't waste time and would go straight to work, spinning the weapon into action to spear his opponent. As Sierra finished her roll Kain spread out his wings and heaved up with them, shooting his body down with raw power and speed, the Naginata aimed at the sternum, the razored edge in direction to Maxi's right side. The attack would cut into the lung and separate the spinal cord/nervous system.

Regardless of Kain's rush, he was sure to keep alert with his eyes locked on his opponent, should Maxi become trixy.

[6]

((Before I respond I feel it necessary to bring out the obviously neglected parts of the above posts. I know the posts are getting long, but missing a detail cant really change it from being mentioned.))

Kraun Wrote:

He didnt bother with the weapon, he left it half imbedded in both men's shoulders and the floor as he pushed off Maximos's back with his left and fell into the sidelines by the rest of the team.

Maximos Wrote:

They were a part of Maximos, a piece of his soul each one, they were commanded like a part of his body. They struck and drove, aiming to break both fighters violently out of the spin and literally impale them into the ground just about 6ft shy of Tzen.

Lady Sierra Wrote:

Now, Given that Tzen had plopped them down right beside the sidelines....

((That would be our first issue, though the posts resolved that.))

Lady Sierra Wrote:

... but if he didn't re-enter quickly, he'd be scored down as a ring out.

((As Tzen and Sierra moved several feet from the ring, to an escalator, then across into a pain glass window, and then across again back to the ring, I fail to see where moving me the short distance of a shoulder check, is going to "Ring-Out". But thats really beside the point.

With that out of the way. To my responce.))

Maximos Wrote:

But every bit of that, could be chocked up to Maximos's simplistic upbringing, what Maximos was not...was stupid.

Sierra was currently a big flaming ball, wielding a giant sword, swooping at him. Magic blasting in all directions. Now Maximos earlier had commented on Sierra's fight, as he had watched with his eyes closed. Clearly he had some sort of senses, OTHER than the use of two eyes. Ears. Touch. Smell.

Though all of the normal 5 senses would usually be able to pick up the sight of a large flaming winged woman swooping in. Perhaps if his eyes were closed, his ears covered and his head was being assaulted, would he miss that. But any human, even without special training could hear, smell, see and even feel fire from a large glowing entity. But incase that was not enough....

Shadow Manipulation Wrote:

• Shadow Manipulation - Umbra Dominatus

Being as closely bonded to the darkness as he is, Maximos is able to meld, or form ambient shadows into whatever he pleases at will. He can dip his hand into them like liquid, or simply summon them to him. Though his manipulation abilities are limited to things he can understand. For example, he may be able to make a cup out shadow, but he can hardly make a car, or a gun, or a bomb.

In order to form ambient shadows into anything one must first have a general idea as to where the shadows are...which in turn means one must know where they arent. A big glowing fireball usually has the nasty effect of making light, and in turn removing shadows. Adding onto that the fact that Maximos's only action at the time was laughing over Kain, a man who had previously directed the actions of two swords, moving independant of him, and his own...and who's technique allowed for the independant movement of five swords...

...If Maximos could not see that coming, he didnt deserve to be here.

But just because you can see something does not mean you can defend something. The eyes are faster than the hands. In Maximos' current condition existing in a state of flesh and blood, he was slower. He could not move his arms and legs far enough to dodge and defend. Meat sacks and all that.

Maximos did however have something on his side. Swords. That were impaled through his chest. And a mind, as thoughts move alot quicker than flesh. He though of his intense need to rise...and he did. The two swords lifting him up by the wounds they had created...sort of like a fork-lift lifting a pallete. Still, it would take time to perform the motion and for the message to be sent and followed, and so he'd really only able to dodge, just before being shoulder checked. It wasnt because he had expert timing, or because he was so very fast, really because he wasnt. It was at the last second he was hoisted, because he couldnt manage it any sooner. His jacket's coat tails were even fried in the process. It was highly unlikely she could make a turn on a dime at this speed without snapping those wings clean off, or worse. This position gave him a much better vantage point as the Lady soared by...All he did was reach his hand down.

Maximos Wrote:

• Lunoc Replication Seal - Luna Effingo Signum

Covering Maximos's right and left arm are two matchng seals. Their function is to absorb and disect any form of common arcana or energy they are afflicted with. The wielder of the spell is then granted temporary access to that ability, at the cost of their own arm, without proper training in it. Each usage costs Maximos shards of his own arm, and finally, the arm itself. Once the arm is gone, the spells effect wears off.

Each spell, being of shadow not the original element does a negative version of the original spell, meaning a shadow replicated fireball could even harm a flame elemental. The seal is limited, only able to duplicate common or low end abilites, never anything rare or extreme as they are usually too complex to disect and require things that cannot be duplicated.

If Sierra had summoned a fire god or performed a complex ritual...it would be impossible to duplicate. Those sort of things require bonds and ties, while she had clearly used some sort of runic magic, and had a magical and probably uniquely named fire...but the end result was the same...she covered herself in fire. Special magic fire.

And Maximos' left hand dragged through those flames as she soared by. The runes activating, and immediately transforming his arm. In his shadow form (which he was not allowed to activate), the replication would have taken a few second as it polluted his body. But human bodies are not made of arcana, and so are a bit easier to effect with magic. As if Maximos had just run dry kinder in a flame engulfing it, his hand rushed through Sierra's flame immediately engulfing it in a lavender and black raging flame.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

But, Sierra's body was inflamed...Kain was a Devil, born from the very womb of Fire.

Sierra was blasting by nearly supersonic speeds, she covered a range of likely over 20ft, by air, in half a second. It was a wonder that she didnt immediately put her own fires out. But either way, by her own timing, she would be off of Kain's body way before his body could interact with the flame. And apparently she would tumble down in pain. Her presence completely blocking out the sight of Maximos readying.

In effect, Sierra rushed by, and the flames began to pour down when...

Lunoc Replication Seal Wrote:

Each spell, being of shadow not the original element does a negative version of the original spell, meaning a shadow replicated fireball could even harm a flame elemental.

Joshua could tell you something or two about negatives. They either explode, attract, or cancel each other out. Maximos knew that the reason he had this spell was because his effect was the later of the group. A shadow element mixed with the actual produces nothing. Just like light and dark cannot co-exist. Niether can flame, and shadow flame. Meaning just as Sierra passed, Maximos would ignite and immediate burst from his right arm of the dark flame onto the Kain below. This would cancel out Sierra's flame before it had a chance to spread, probably just barely missing her heels as she passed by, and instead coating Kain below. Without real flame, his regeneration technique likely wouldnt work. And what is the opposite of healing? Injury. This womb of fire, became a bath of pain.

Kain had coated his body in heat, not open flame. Presumably actual open fire, such as the degree Sierra was releasing was more potent than the low grade heat that Kain was releasing. Which meant her flame, was probably potent enough to overpower Kains...and that in effect was what Maximos was wielding, the same flame as Sierra, only opposite. I believe the flames intensity was best described as...

Lady Sierra Wrote:

The temperature around her spiked to 1025 degrees, more than hot enough to melt rock.

Her sword, which was enchanted against such unnatural heat and called Elven Fire with good reason, glimmers as the tiles crack and shatter under her feet. The radius effected by the intense heat was down to 6ft, but anything within that radius would ignite, burning away to ash.

As the later mentioned the flame by name, it could be assumed that was the flames degree. Meaning the shadow flames burn...though not born of actual fire...would be equal to that degree of temperature. And would be shot down as a nice bath. 1,025 degree's is pretty intense as cremation is performed at merely 1500 degree's. Kains armor...if it wasnt melted by the faux flame, and dripping hot metal on his naked skin, would be being heated up like an oven....with Kain pressed against it. Even a few seconds of exposure could scald off skin, and muscle mass like tissue.

In effect Kain would feel a pleasant warmth for a split second as Sierra wooshed by at nearly immeasurable speeds, and then being faced with a flamethrower blast from Maximos' left arm. A blast that could burn him...bad...very bad, as shadow flame, not being flame in its true sense, was not made in Hell. It should be able to assault him as if he had no flame immunity what-so-ever. Needless to say...trying to absorb the stuff was not healthy...

Kains' sword was gone, and even should he summon it back, he would need to do so in that split second and against an attack that he couldnt even see coming, as Sierra herself was in the way. And much like Tzen's assualt, the blast came from a runic assembly, outside of Kain's very short range anti-magic field, giving the flames more than enough birth to surround the sword and field and lash at someone hiding beneath or behind.

As Maximos had gone airborne. A punch, really wouldnt reach. And after a good five seconds of toasting, just enough for the average supernatural to swallow the pain and try to move, then he would command his sword to carry him back, and place him on his feet a good 6ft back. The ground around his opponent was likely bubbling, and molten. As for that transformation Maximos was going to undergo....it never went off. Maximos didnt ask for a striker, but for Kain to "poof" his sword at that exact moment, he had to have. The Shadow Warrior was a technologically inexperienced fellow, not so supernaturally, he had heard of "Telepathy". Which meant...Kain needed help. And the new weapon Maximos held on his left arm. And the lashing tentacles Sierra was kind enough to free from his right arm...though they were quickly replacing...Maximos had more to THANK her for than blame her. No wonder Joshua had taken to helping her.

In the end, he was given a moment re-evaluate the situation. He didnt need that form...he could handle this just fine, even with the blood gushing from his chest and gut, seeping through makeshift shadow bandages tightly wrapping the wounds. This body healed like a human...it meant he was infact seriously injured, and even still, he was more than equipped for the battle to come. Though, as mentioned above the replication seal has a price, the flames had backlashed, his left sleave was burned off, and small degree burns were visible on his skin. If could continue to use the arm, as long as there was arm left, but with constant usage there wouldnt be an arm.

The only real question, was wether or not Kain was even going to be getting up, and if he was, how much of him would be left?

[VII]

((The ringout bit was addressed by Kraun in the OOC, it was a misunderstanding of the rules on my part. Though nobody asked me to edit it, so I thought you'd been informed. See HERE Bottom of that page and the top of the next.

As for manipulating Sierra's energies---

Quote: ENERGY MANIPULATION - Innate/Learned Ability

• Partially a psychic trait, but mostly innate ability.

• If elemental or energy based attacks are cast at her she will manipulate them... UNLESS, the energy is personal energy (ex. Ki or spirit energy), or if the opponent holds onto the energy and guides the attack 'til it completes it's course. In which case she would have to wrest the control from them which takes too much effort/exertion. In such as case it is easier/more effective to counter it.

• She can manipulate natural, unclaimed energies or 'orphaned' energies and feed them into her own shielding and attacks to strengthen/reinforce them.

:: Note :: Sierra does not relinquish control of her energies and in the case of Fire and Darkness elemental attacks... they are drawn from a personal store of energy and created of herself. Thus they CAN NOT be manipulated, only shielded against or countered.

And evading Sierra's wings...

Quote: Wings: Sierra has four black feathered wings, the upper set being larger and the bottom one's being smaller. She uses her wings as both a tool of flight and an offensive/defensive device.

Upper-Wing Span: 9ft.

Lower-Wing Span: 7ft - 7.5ft

Offensively: Sierra will use her wings to beat her opponents with hammering blows that can easily stun them or break bones with their crushing force. Her wings are also amazingly adept at acting as extra limbs and 'wrapping' around arms or legs or even torsos and ensnaring her prey.

Defensively: Her Feathers, while although soft to touch are as resilliant as dragon scales and therefore make a natural shield to wrap about herself, should she need it.))

That means he'd have to be able to get about 4 feet back to be missed by the right wing.

ELVEN FIRE is the name of Sierra Sword, not her flame. And it doesn't burn 1000+ degrees instantly, if you care to observe, it took several posts to increase to that intense of a temperature.))

===========

If Maximos did get out of her way, then she would somersault across the floor instead of rolling of wouldn't be there. When she'd feel something pick her up with a jerk by what? There was no collar, her breastplate was semi backless to accomodate her wings... Sierra's all-be-it flame resistant kimono, had turned to ash around the same time Tzen had lost his shirt, leaving her clad only in the short, two piece elven mail shirt/skirt with her breastplate and pauldrons, and the light plate mail on her upper arms and legs. So he'd of had to grab her by the waist.

Idiot. The bladed tail that acted as a rear guard, would wrap around his arm tightly in instinctual defence as golden eyes glared indignantly over her shoulder. The spines would bite into his arm, but if he insisted on throwing her, it would release his arm in an attempt not to tear tendons lest the judges tried to penalize her. She would land akwardly on the bench, her wings giving a sickening snap as the inadaquetly healed appendages screamed in pain, twitching. Maybe she SHOULD have scored his arm... 'cause if hurling her at a bench with enough impact to wound her wasn't malicious intent-- Tch.

Interesting too... that Joshua envisioned her head to toe in blood. The only blood that was on her now, was that which hadn't been wiped off her armour, her tail and the blood from freshly broken feathers as she glares at him, catching the breath that had been driven from her body.

Getting to her feet stubbornly, she retracts her wings into her body, where they'd be less of a hinderance and heal faster.

Her keen elven hearing picked out Tzen's words easily.

''Come and get it yourself if you want to score yourself a flag or two in consequence."

There was no point in shouting reprimanding words or insults. She would start walking back to her side of the arena, around the fighting zone careful not to re-enter the taped off section.

((EDIT))

Quote: And if she came blasting through the field just to crash into him or the rest of the team, then that would either be some sort of reckless endangerment to spectators in the area, or, at most, seen by the observing judges as an attack against the opposing team on the sidelines. But he already knew neither of those would happen.

Well aside from the fact that spectators were held at bay by tape and over zealous mall-cops... otherwise the teams would be being swamped with interviews and pleas for autographs...

Quote: So they'd just be fighting in the crowd now... or rather, Team a** Tear's sidelines, since I dont think anyone would really care to stand close to Tzenidaar.

It was up to Joshua if he threw her through a crowd of innocent bystanders, but she didn't think that'd be an issue. After all, they weren't stupid right?

((Josh had actually picked you up by the scruff of your neck, not by any of your clothes or armor.))

It took Rain but a moment to follow the gaze of the spectators to find what had happened to Sierra.

he muttered, as he dropped the Subway baggie where he stood.

There was a slight crackle in the air about him that only Fae was close enough to hear, but Rain was, for all intents and purposes, gone, as if vanishing in thin air.

At least, thats what the spectators would think. Those trained in the ways of martial combat tend to have better tuned senses, though again, Fae was probably the only one close enough to notice. He was a blur as he moved, the sounds of his footsteps echoing behind him, small elliptical clouds of debris and dirt being kicked up behind him.

Joshua would most likely be aware of Rain's arrival. He made no attempt to disguise it. First he would feel a small draft of wind blow around him, followed by the sound of footfalls catching up, and finally a brooding shadow lurking behind him accompanied by the crackling of electrically charged air. But Rain stopped dead in his tracks about five feet behind the opposing team's captain, and made no effort to strike at him or close any further.

The time it had taken Rain to reach the other side of the fighting area was also about 10 seconds, give or take. However, he had gone the long way around, not the same direct route Sierra had taken.

Sierra was getting up from the bench by the time Rain arrived. He would be unsure what move Joshua would make to stop her from leaving, but he stood ominously behind him nonetheless.

"You will return her to me." he had ordered. Sierra was still injured, and this tumble of hers would not help her recovery any. Half his concern was her ability to walk back, the other half would be the other team taking advantage of the opportunity. Rain would leave either as an escort to his captain, or in a body bag. This much, Joshua could read off the aura of perseverence he was emitting. To Rain, the rules were no longer an issue.

Was that an invitation?

He got up, straightening his legs before he turned. She was already leaving. Guess not. Perhaps it was a taunt.

He went to the bench which she had struck.

"I'll be taking these." he said to his captain and any of the spectators which drew near, picking up several of the feathers which had fallen off of the woman's wings, mainly those which had snapped off at the base, leaving them in prestine condition; those which that had produced the blood in the area. There was Joshua's cut wounds from his arm that stained her tail, the freshly broken feathers, and the old blood which staine her armour.

He gathered a few of the feathers before his other hand would wipe across the bench, wiping up the splatters of blood from his captain's arm before he put it in his mouth, consuming what little of it there was. When he left, a few of the spectators would swarm in, mimicing the man's actions. Fanboys picking up the feathers of their idol for whatever reason they had.

As to what Tzenidaar did with the feathers? You could call them souvenirs, you can call them reward. Like the canabalistic cultures of tribes which collect parts of their enemies and wear them; eyes, ears, fingers, shrunken heads. He would flick his head to the side, making the thin tail of braided hair at the base of his skull swing over his shoulder as he would secure two of such feathers into the tie.

As for the others, he put one in his mouth, letting it stick out and hang loosely between his teeth like some italian mafia member with a toothpick.

He should get a headband and stick them in there, poking up and all. It would be excellent.

(( 1. If someone says "i dodge", even in those few words, it sticks. The judges will deal with poor RPing, if you feel there's something wrong with the post you can either appeal to them to reconsider, or ask a Judge to lay down the law. Though they will probably tell you to just deal with it yourself.

Not every attack hits. Not every dodge makes sense. The latter of these two will cost points, good sportsmanship on the first will save them.

1. Sorry, I haven't been here for a week. I recall injuries, specifically due to being thrown into, through, or onto things with bonecrushingness, as well as Tzennidar bleeding all over you and I'm fairly certain he also has clawed hands, so when he did all that grabbing at you there would likely be something going on. So I'm sorry that I only paid enough attention to know the major points of what happened, your last couple of moves, and the fact that you are seriously injured. I was a little busy sneaking onto the computer late, late at night to frantically try and catch up before getting 4 hours of sleep and then try it again the next day. I'll make sure to schedule my vacations around your fights next time, so that I can give you all the attention you deserve.

I went for the neck, and mentioned the collar, because I wasn't sure whether or not there would be anything left but I figured she had some safeguard to keep herself from gracing the cover of FHM due to paparazzi. As for the breastplate/chainmail shirt... even if it is backless, it's either going to go over the shoulders or around the back of the neck in order to keep it up. All things considered there was like an 80% chance of something being there to grab, but either way, back of the neck was completely fine with me. It was an either/or thing.

1. I like how Kain completely nixed his last post, all the way through the beginning of it, turning what could have been a fight into a counterfest. The only hope to save it now is if Maxi doesn't post "I wipe off the blood before it explodes, and the rest still happens"... because that would probably prompt another "nah-uh", followed by an "uh-huh", and so on.

Eew. ))

• = - = -

It would be an itchy trigger finger for a Judge to call foul on helping someone up... though that was their own decision, and not anyone else's. He didn't care that she tried to tear up his arm, either, in fact he was more concerned with the scratches she put in the supple leather underside of his left bracer. He really liked those things... they were new, not even a month old yet. He'd had to replace the ones he'd had earlier, because they had... (cough)... they had sort of ceased to exist along with several buildings in downtown Durem.

There were dribbles of blood across the floor, and splattered on the side of the bench from his toss of the arm to shove Sierra onto it. Black blood that stopped flowing as soon as Sierra's tail removed itself from the lacerations it had managed.

"Whatever, stubborn woman."

Let her call a flag, she had done far worse than he had in helping her back to her feet. Being a gentleman, he certainly wasn't going to let a scratch count against her.

Lady Sierra Wrote:

"I'm fine Rain."

The tone was commanding, her teammate and subordinate would get the clear message to forget saying whatever he had in mind. And then she would smile, her tone light as she continued on back towards their area.

He shoved an arm in front of her. Not to hit her, but to bar her from taking another step unless she went around. Of course, if she went around he'd do something else... he was stubborn, too.

Rain Yupa Wrote:

"You will return her to me." he had ordered. Sierra was still injured, and this tumble of hers would not help her recovery any. Half his concern was her ability to walk back, the other half would be the other team taking advantage of the opportunity. Rain would leave either as an escort to his captain, or in a body bag. This much, Joshua could read off the aura of perseverence he was emitting. To Rain, the rules were no longer an issue.

The Captain looked over... but he wasn't looking at Rain, nor was he taking note of his aura of determination to protect his leader... he was staring at the Subway bag on the ground where he had run from.

"...make me."

A sly grin spread across his lips, giving away exactly how bemused he was by his sudden idea. He pointed back over his shoulder with a jab of the thumb towards a walkway on the upper level. It was a good enough distance from the others, and there was a Judge nearby on the upper level (as each match is presided over by 3 Judges).

"Are you a big enough man for it?" Joshua repeated the challenge. "You win, you can have her back. I win, I get your sandwich."

He made no promises as to what would happen to her if Rain didn't win... though Tzennidar had a pair of hungry eyes.

(( I'm fairly certain that at some point Fen stated that in a large area 'like the Marketplace or Akea' we could hold more than one fight at once rather than having to do time paradox to do it. I just can't find it to quote it. ))

edit:

Fenrir Fenix Wrote:

Depends completely on the arena. Barton Center, which sounds fairly large could accommodate two fights. Like Kraun said; do NOT interfere with the other fight and those involved in a fight cannot be used to striker.

Other arenas like the THUNDERDOME wouldn't allow two 1v1 matches, because it's a closed in area that forces people together.

edit 2:

themightyjello Wrote:

Fenrir Fenix Wrote:

I'll allow it IF:

1. You can scare everyone on the second floor shitless, and get them to flee for their lives without harming them in anyway.

1. You can keep the fight on the second floor.

Same deal as with Barton Center. No interfering with the other fight, no strikers from the occupied fighters. Basic stuff.

OH. And the first floor would function as a ringout zone. You fall off the second floor, you're out of the game unless you can get your a** up there real quick.

1. Can and will. Also have an AoE wall that I can use to just shove them out on their asses.

1. Effing awesome. We need spikes at the bottom. I'll uppercut.

edit 3: minor edit

((The following conversation took place on page 411 of the Spectators Area. It deals with the scale of the blood loss, soaking into Maximos' hood and such.

Fenrir Fenix Wrote:

I'm sure there would have been blood. If not a little from smacking domes then from whatever other wounds he had gotten. Getting wanged in the head by something solid and fairly heavy like someone else's head would probably split the skin and bleed a little bit.

I didn't undo the blood. I undid the timetraveling explosion.

Maximos Wrote:

Gotcha. A little bit.

Because he really hasnt taken any other injuries at all. Do you think the massive amount of blood that would supposedly cover my entire hood is feasible? According to his post he was headbutting back, but I've really only heard of that sort of ridiculous blood splatter in Mortal Kombat.

Fenrir Fenix Wrote:

Thought I saw some bit about a cleaver in someone's shoulder at some point.

But a little cut on the face wouldn't do it. I assume you went the full-on forehead to forehead action.

So no, not a whole lot of blood unless he's some kind of uber hemophiliac.

EDIT: As a veteran of numerous head wounds, by 'not a whole lot' would mean like a trickle at most.

Maximos Wrote:

No that was the end Tzen's striker. But Maximos impaled himself on those swords about 6ft shy of Tzen so he never reached the cleaver.

Alright, I'll keep that in mind when I respond. If you dont mind I'll copy and past that in the Judge Call thread for reference sake.

I doubt somewhat, that moving at the speed we were supposed a speed that would get us across the ring in 2 seconds, that blood would be given a chance to pool or even rest, or trickle with the violent spiral motion of the wind vortex. The definition of what was "up" and what was "down", was changing every fraction of a second as we were spun.

There is also the issue of your raised body temperature, if your body was hot, as you said it was, wouldnt the blood have simply tried after a second or two?

Not to be rude, but I think between the judge rulings the post needs a redoing.))

"I don't care enough to barter," he said, dropping his arm from in front of the woman to let her skip off to safety unharried, "I just wanted to see if you had any balls."

What Rain had observed was true enough, to an extent. Earlier he had managed to recover a serious wound without much effort, but the cuts Sierra's barbs had slit open on his arm remained open... it was partly due to necessity, and partly due to choice. There's no sense in healing a cut while the thorn is still under the skin, so he had waited until she withdrew her tail before doing anything about it. While she walked away, he lifted his arm and licked a streak of blood off of the elbow, leaving no blood, no cut.

After all, there was no need to call foul over a scratch.

"Okay," he said, starting again. "You win, I buy."

And he thumbed his nose.

Rain Yupa Wrote:

Rain looked back to Joshua. "I request that strikers not be allowed in our match. As compensation, I will consent to it being two-, or even three- on one. Does that sound like a fair trade?"

Joshua laughed.

"If you want to bring your friends, that's fine with me."

He held a fist in the air between them, grinning at the prospect of fighting every remaining member of Liberti Fatalli.

"And if anyone tries to interfere I'll crush them myself!"

"Awww, man..." The Captain rolled his head on his shoulders, sighing dejectedly.

"...getting my hopes up like that."

Shaking his head slowly in disapproval of the disappointment, he turned and headed towards the broken escalator that lead to the upper level.

"Not a chance, guy. None of us here has so little faith in each other as that."

There was no point in responding to any of that, it was more or less monologuing. Anything that needed to be said could have been summed up in a single nod of the head.

The crowd of spectators shifted as the fighters walked across the area. When they began ascending the escalator stairs, many moved backwards to give them room at the top, while some pushed forwards clutching pads and paper... hoping for autographs or something of the sort.

"Excuse me, cou-"

"I'm borrowing this."

Joshua grabbed the pad and pen out of his hand, then turned and headed to the walkway on the upper level as the spectators spread back to make way, only about arm's reach off.

He scribbled on the pad for a moment while walking, then tore off the front page and dropped both items, the pen and pad, into the hands of a nearby spectator.

"Everyone."

He held his arms up in the air, turning around slowly to look at the entire crowd as he waited for Rain to make his way through.

"Get the (bleep) out."

Oh no, the censors did not just bleep that for broadcast TV.

He dropped the page, and promptly reached to the sheathed sword at his left shoulder; driving it through the center of the paper and an inch into the floor to nail the page to the ground in the center of the walkway. Almost simultaneously with the thrust the spectators shoved back violently against each other and evacuated the walkway as a buffer of air shot in either direction down it and forced them back to the sidelines.

On the page there was a symbol drawn in the spectator's pen.

As soon as the last of them were out of the area it activated, creating an interposing shield around the walkway, from end to end, and with a good deal of distance to either side and above... now it was a cage match. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, no one to get in the way.

"Adequate?"

themightyjello Wrote:

Zone Barrier: Functioning much like Barrier spell, this variant of it extends the range over a large area; either to contain something within it or to prevent attacks from the outside.

Barrier: A physical shield is erected like a wall or a shell over an object. The barrier is barely visible, appearing as a translucent film of negligible thickness covering the protected area. When an object comes into contact with the barrier it will be stopped as long as it is within the barrier’s power to stop it, and a rush of positive energy will be drawn from the barrier to repel the object. A barrier cannot withstand a heavy assault, and continued attacks against it will weaken the barrier until it breaks.

"Hey boss, bring me back an arm." Tzenidaar said as he continued to watch the fight between Maximos and Kain, feathers poking out here and ther that he had collected. He didnt have a problem with their little one on one scuffle off to the side, he had already done his job, and wanted to see the rest of the team try to best his own efforts; a** Tear was not just competing against their opponents, but each other as well. But man, he was (still) hungry.

<Battle Music = Final Fantasy's "Fire Cross">

"I am a weapon."

Rain shifted his stance, stepping back with his right foot and lifting his right arm perpendicular to his left, palms open, as soon as Joshua charged. With his right forearm, he would swat Josh's left so the strike would continue forward, while following with his own left, an arrow strike to the underside of his opponent's chin, just past the jawbone itself.

<1/17>

Rain let out a small gasp of pain as he got a faceful of Joshua. Literally.

His eyes were winced, but not closed tight, after the blow, a tiny spray of blood coating the lower half of Rain's face after the initial blow. He pulled his head back about a foot to avoid a potential second headbutt, and for his followup strike.

His brought his right leg in, while Josh's gaze was still focused on Rain's head, and he leaned his entire upper torso back as he kicked his leg upwards. If it hit, the foot would most likely catch his opponent in the chin. If it was avoided, it would turn into an axe kick, into the face instead.

<2/17>

As soon as Rain's leg was caught and Josh began to turn, a quick glance out of the corner of his eye told him his destination. Almost immediately after being released in the throw, he curled his legs in, somersaulting once in the air. Turning so his feet would be braced against the guardrail, he kicked off of it after the impact of the horizontal landing was absorbed.

His jump would be at an upward angle, to give him enough lift to allow him to attempt a turning jump kick with his right leg. Since Joshua had his feet facing away and his body turned to his left, this kick would come at him from behind, not in front.

<3/17>

Rain had initially been aiming for the back of Joshua's head, but would have settled for anywhere in the upper body. This was not a full on forwards kick, but a turning kick, it provided the centripetal force to slow his forward momentum. As he spun in the air, Joshua had ducked, to prepare for the most feared of all uppercuts.

Rain's continued spin had turned him about another 200 or so degrees, enough for him to c**k his left leg up towards his torso. As the Falcon Punch rose, he would effectively stomp down on it with his foot. As he did this, his right leg pulled back for a massive punt that would shame most football placekickers.

The uppercut would have enough force to launch Rain into the air by simply his foot, but as he kicked with his right leg, it would send him into a spin instead. His right foot would most likely catch Joshua in his face, but whether or not it landed, Rain was sent spiraling backwards in the air. He would be sent with enough force to send him over the guardrail, but he reached up with his right arm, snagging it before plummeting to the floor below.

<4/17>

Rain initially braced to protect his eyes when the blood looked like it would have been spat into his face, but he was glad it wasn't. He looked up in suprise that his opponent was offering him a hand up. Completely contradicting the things his team had been trying to warn him about.

Still, Rain had been in this situation before. Three other times, to be specific. Two of those were a trap, and he didn't discredit the possibility this would be too. But he preferred to give his opponents the benefit of the doubt, until they gave him reason to doubt them. He tightened his grip on the guardrail with his right hand, before grabbing onto Joshua's forearm with his left.

If his opponent made any attempt to attack him in this moment of vulnerability, he would pull him down with him. But as long as no deceit occured, he would allow himself to be assisted upwards with no aggressive action of his own.

<5/17>

"Thaoof!" was what came out of Rain's mouth after getting to his feet, causing him to cough up a small amount of spittle and blood, while keeling over forward slightly. The force of the blow practically lifted him off his feet for a moment.

He quickly snapped out of it, planting his feet firm on the ground once again. He gritted his teeth hard, aiming for a two-part counterstrike. His right arm would shoot up like an uppercut, except he would strike with his index and middle finger only. His target? The elbow's golgi tendon. In addition to his atemi strike, his ability to manifest his body's electricity allowed him to send the tiniest spark through the point of contact with his fignertips.

The strike itself would most likely cause the elbow to relax itself involuntarily, but the spark was to ensure any defense Joshua would have against such a blow would be negated, as it would involutarily trigger the nerves in the elbow. The amount of electricity required to do this would be insignificant, since approximately 30 mV of electricity is needed to activate a nerve cluster, doing nothing to dampen Rain's internal reservoir.

This by itself would do nothing but loosen the elbow joint itself. It would be the followup punch a second later with his left arm to the side of the elbow that would break the joint. The required amount of force would be akin to what would be needed to break a thick twig or pencil, and the punch would far exceed that. That is, if both parts of the combo were to land. Either half of it would still have its reprecussions, however.

<6/17>

Since Rain had momentarily removed any of Joshua's elbow's ability to resist the strike, he had punched it in such a way that it would cause it to bend in a way that its not supposed to. For his opponent's left arm, if he looked down at his hyperextended forearm, if he could bend his elbow up and down, it would be knocked to the left. The result would indeed be a break.

However, since this had occupied both of Rain's arms, he was not able to do anything about the followup strikes that landed against him. He half-stepped, half-stumbled backwards as both blows landed. He breathed heavily, swallowing once between the panting. Rain sneered, and it looked like he was about to advance again, when he suddenly bent forward. His right hand grabbed his mouth while his left held him up as he fell to his knees. Muffled coughing sounded from behind his hand, and blood oozed between his fingertips.

<7/17>

Yes, that was clearly a break.

However, he wasn't going to be needing that arm any more.

"Indie! Cover your heart! Cover your heart Indie!"

A young fan from the sidelines shouted, leaning over the edge with his eyes wide.

...but it was already too late...

The palm strike to Rain's chest was lighter than it was expected to be... that was because it was not a retaliatory strike at all. There was nearly no impact to the palm strike, this was because the movement was not meant to wound, but only to make contact. Joshua's hand was flat against Rain's chest, and he had the tips of his index and middle finger, as well as the pad of his thumb pressed down against it.

That was when it happened. Throughout a fight excitement builds, as does tension, adrenaline, and the heart rate, which increases blood pressure. After exchanging blows like they had, after nearly falling out of the ring, and after that last hit and the excited feeling of being on top, Rain's heart would be racing. Joshua changed all that... From his fingertips he channeled a small aura of negative energy into Rain's heart, and from the bottom of his foot he channeled a small aura of positive energy into Rain's toes.

What was one important thing to know about these opposites... they were not friendly with each other. Positive energy is the force of life. Negative energy is the force of unlife. Where one exists, the other prefers not to, and they will repel each other and attract their own kind. With one hand upon Rain's heart and a ground at his foot, Joshua created a power sink within Rain's body that pushed the life force away from his heart.

Not entirely... but just enough. Rain's heart rate would drop from somewhere around 160 BPM to 40 in only a second or two. With his heart rate, his blood pressure would also significantly drop over that short period, causing a condition known as hypotension. Common symptoms were dizziness, lightheadedness, and blackouts...

As soon as the job was completed Joshua stepped off of Rain's foot and onto the ground beside him; slipping an arm around Rain's back to keep him from cracking his head on the ground when he fell. He would lower down with the other man to make sure he safely reached the floor.

themightyjello Wrote:

Sleep: A spell that uses both positive and negative energy to create a power sink within a target and temporarily draw away the energy within them to a specified point. This will leave the target exhausted and drowsy for a few moments before the energy can readjust itself. This usually results in a sudden blackout and will often cause the recipient of the spell to drift off into dreamland. Targets that are already tired will be more susceptible to this spell.

To be used, Joshua must be touching the target in two separate points on their body so that the power sink can draw the energy to one point in the body and push it away from the other. One of the touched points needs to be a vital area (brain, heart, liver, etc.).

[8]

It looked like Joshua was ready to call it a day, putting the opponent to bed and tucking him in. A five count is all that he'd need before the judge ruled in his favor.

However, as soon as Rain was on the ground and Joshua released him, the rest would play out. Hypotension produced a blackout effect ideally, causing the affected individual to, for lack of a better word, faint for a moment. It had never been his plan from the beginning to simply let that be the end of it, he doubted that his opponent would just let himself drift off into a peaceful slumber in the middle of something like this.

Eight inches.

Eight inches was all the distance it took to remove the knife from its sheath at his right hip and bring it against Rain's throat with the same medical precision that had found Rain's heart in a tap of the chest. With Rain playing dead, who knows how well he'd be able to sense his surroundings.

Joshua indeed had no clue that Rain was pretending in order to buy himself more time... it had simply been his plan from the start to follow things this way. Either the opponent would stay down, or he would wake up to find a knife at his throat.

"Yield," the Captain said softly as soon as he noticed any signs of 'life' that betrayed the renewed capacity for conscious thought and recognition, "and I'll buy lunch."

[9]

Joshua slid the knife back into the sheath with a silent nod... then he smiled. Not a sly grin, not something utterly devious, just a smile.

"Cool."

He stood up, offering a hand to Rain again... the good hand, not the crooked one. The crooked one was giving a rather awkwardly pointed thumbs-up.

"I'll buy you lunch after the match."

[End.]

Joshua laughed... then dropped down onto his right knee, setting his arm on the left thigh, and -

KR-POP!

He was used to it... bones were tricky. They had to be set before they were healed, and many times there just wasn't time for that. Now, without having to deal with combat, he could align the bone properly by feeling it out; nearly a century of medical training going into the maneuver.

A few deep breaths later, and he was done. It wasn't healed completely, but it was mended enough to hold itself in place. There was no need for a fancy lightshow or fireworks to show that he was drawing upon healing magic, it was all done with control and precision... if there had been a glowing light it would have been excess energy being wasted. Now that it was mended, he could take all day to heal it completely and conserve energy that would otherwise be wasted on a speedy healing.

"Don't worry about it," the a** Tear Captain said, rising to his feet again. "Nothing broken can't be fixed... with the right medicine."

He gave a hearty swat on the back to Rain in good nature... or very good nature, as a misty blue aura trailed behind the hand as he slapped his opponent's back; directing the positive energy through to perhaps undo some of the strain he had placed upon the man's heart. A fighter is no good without stamina, after all, and the cardiovascular system was an important part of that.

Tzennidar was here to end people. Joshua was here to do what he did best.

And just like a snowball... it just kept growing.

First a few in the crowd started up, hearing Joe Brown beginning it, but soon whole groups began clapping... and soon enough it was nearly everyone. Not just for the winner, but for both teams.

There were examples of what a fight was, and there were examples of an artillery test. This was a fight, and a good one by the sound of the crowd's cheers.

"Is that so hard to understand?"

Joshua walked to the guardrail and raised his hands in the air. The cheering only got louder.

He dropped one arm and motioned for Rain to do the same.

That was where he was wrong. The cheers picked up even more so with Rain standing up there as well... it couldn't be all for the winner, could it? Especially with people shouting "Rain! Rain!" and hastily scribbled signs made with sharpies and the backs of other signs.

Clearly he'd done something right.

Especially since the cheering never stopped, even when Joshua sneakily slipped Rain's grip while he was distracted by the crowd calling his name, and Rain was the only one left standing triumphantly while Joshua slunk off to have a seat on the guard rail.

The approaching was of course possible because after the fight ended, Joshua had removed sections of the barrier so that Rain could leave from either side of the upper level walkway.

</retcon?>

themightyjello Wrote:

</retcon?>

This would have happened anyways. The narrator was just too lazy to put it in there.

(( I hate to bring it down to this but:

The Rules Wrote:

Fighting Guidelines:

37: Obviously, keep fights in logical sense. Example: Man A runs in for an attack slashing his opponent chest with his huge scythe with both hands. Man B instinctively ducks beneath the huge weapon and sweeps his foot to knock the man off his feet. Man A jumps in the air to avoid attack. WTF?... Man A is wielding a huge scythe... to swing that s**t he has to use body weight (Even if he is super strong this particular choice of weapon is very unbalance even in one hand. So using it has very little to with strength and more on hand and eye co-ordination... Balance...) And the weight of the weapon will also slow him down, in this moment of weakness he is in no way able to protect himself (seeing that both hands were on the scythe, while in mid motion) or avoid the foot-sweep, he has to take the hit. His concentration was in that one attack. Get the idea? This goes with altering your initial action if interrupted in mid-action. We do not condone counterfests.

You already posted what you'd do in reaction to Sierra's Striker. You can make alterations to the end of it, like... the part once Sierra gets there... but you can't really start over from the beginning because Maxi is GOING to let go of you at some time after you do your whole "I unsummon my sword and wait" thing.

[edit] You can make alterations, but you can't go that far back or make that significant of a change, really... that's called counterfesting, because it just boils down to people going "well I counter your counter" over and over and... damn... that gets ugly, because each time you 'counter' you're apparently preparing something ahead of time, and if you keep taking small steps back in time you eventually get to countering things before the initial action happened. [/edit]

The Rules Wrote:

To the poor b*****d: Do not second-guess the attacks upon you or it could land you in a bad situation. If you forget to input the effect of an attack by mistake, it will automatically be counted as a hit. Take the hit with grace as not everyone can be invincible and not be hit at all, that sort of style is all wrong and unecceptable. It shows lack of technique and imagination...

And, there's that.

You must include the shadow flame, even if it's "lol I dodge". ))

---- prior to Rain and Joshua's fight ----

Sierra didn't think of Rain as her mook or her lackey... She just simply hated relying on other people when she'd been conditioned to stick up for herself. She wasn't so stubborn to reject help in every situation, but in front of this team, over something like this, wasn't one of those instances.

Still... she should have known that Rain wouldn't listen to her. Not over something like this-- One of the things she liked about Rain Yupa was his unwavering sense of honour. She hadn't simply picked this man to be on team Liberi Fatali because of his skills as a fighter, he had the drive and determination it took to succeed.

So when he piped up anyways, and Josh stuck his arm out. She merely arched a fine brow in interest.

She could clear her own way back to her side of the arena, but now she was intrigued by Rain's reaction too. What was the harm in letting him have that extra little bit of drive and incentive? If it was that important to him, who was she to tell him no?

She would give him a 'go ahead' grin and a nod as he looked to her for approval of his challenge.

The bit about no-strikers didn't really tickle her fancy... but again. She understood why Rain had asked for such a rule to be implemented for this round.

She would watch them go before returning to her team's area, keeping track of Kain and his fight with Maxi.

--- Post Rain and Joshua's fight ---

She'd been watching what she could of both matches, taking full advantage of the large TV screens broadcasting the action to all of the spectators. She'd watched with Interest as Rain held his own 'til the end. She was certainly impressed.

She just hoped that now, he'd feel a little more valued. After all, alternate didn't really mean much in the grand scheme of things. He was as much a member of this team as anyone else was, maybe now he'd see that.

When he'd come downstairs, he'd get a shout and then something cold hucked at his head.

''YO RAIN!!''

She'd grin as she takes the water bottle filled with juice and hurls it at him.

''GOOD JOB LUV!''

She'd flash him a thumbs up, saving the rest of their conversation and the rest of her praise until she didn't have to shout it across everyone.

... ! ...

The elf's eyes went wide as she unintentionally leveled her teammate. With a startled squeak and a 'Did I do that' glance she bolted around the crowd who descended upon them and was kneeling by his side in a few seconds.

''I'm sorry hun, are you okay?''

Her face was the epitome of an apology as she smiled at him awkwardly and helped him up, before gathering up stray cookies and handing them to him.

Girlish voices around them giggled and went 'awwwww' as they wished they were the ones helping him up. One girl wearing a short black mini skirt even piped up boldly calling out to him.

''Want me to kiss it better for you Rain? And anything else while I'm at it?!!''

The girls friend elbowed her in the side as she called out.

''Rain would you sign my T-shirt for me?!''

These two weren't exceptions. Many of the young women and teen girls were cat-calling him and cooing a general chorus of 'we love you Rain'

"The wheels on the bus go 'round and 'round..." he mumbled, in a temporary daze as he tried to get his focus back. His right hand went up to rub his face, wincing as he did so.

Lady Sierra Wrote:

''I'm sorry hun, are you okay?''

The person who spoke assisted in helping him sit up. He shook his head, shaking off the last of the dizziness, looking at the woman who helped him up as she returned him his box of cookies. "Yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Are you okay, Sarah?"

Before he could get an immediate response, other girls began to cheer and cat-call from the audience. He clambered to his feet, blinking at them, before smiling sheepishly. "No, no, I'm fine, really." he reassured them, waving them off with one hand politely. "Lets wait until the fight is over before I start signing stuff, at least. It would be disrespectful to Kain and Maximos." He turned back to his captain, offering her a hand up from her kneeling position.

Sierra accepted the hand up.

She just laughed and shook her head as Rain was all but swarmed by the fan girls. She began to make her way back to her teams benches again and was cornered by a media crew--

''Ms. Ethelstan''

Golden eyes narrowed as she turned around cautiously, smiling while trying to look for an opening in the crowd to worm through and make an escape. There were NONE.

Dammit.

''Yes?''

''We were wondering, if you'd answer a few questions for us?''

''After the fights are finished gentleman, if you'll excu--''

''Sierra, what do you think your team's chances of advancing are? ''

''It could go either way, both teams have fought well, now if you'll just let --''

''How do you think the judges will rule in the case of your match against Tzen?''

''I honestly don't know gentlemen. Your guess is as good as mine.''

''Would yo--''

''GENTLEMEN. The remaining time wanes. The match is nearly over, because the clock will have it so. I would like to catch what's left of the fight if you don't mind. I will be happy to answer questions later.... THANK YOU.''

She would push past and return to her teams section, high fiving a few of the spectators as they reached their hands out to her, cheering. Crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced at Meria who seemed utterly preoccupied. Her eyes flicked back and forth from Kain's movements, the flsh of his blade... to the count down on the clock.

''Time's nearly up...'' she all but breathed the words.

[Post-Fight Finale]

That one glowing eye peered right into Kain. Not at him, but into him, into his soul. It had no powers to alter what it saw, but it gazed deep into everything that made that man who he was. That made that Devil what he was born to be. Maximos' face looked inhuman. It couldnt be possible for someone to be that cold, for someone to peer forward as if they had never felt anything before in there entire life. And that eye...that raging eye, like oblivion deep into people...was he really human?

More so, as the charge came forth, was he really not going to move?

Shadow Blade, was not a style of brutality, and skill. It involved cutting as viciously as a knife dug through fist. But as in a swords life in involves pain and clashes, injuries and repair.

Maximos wouldnt move. No he wouldnt budge and inch, he had no intention of countering that sword. No thoughts of dodging, or countering. He would take that blade, his mind was set on the pain to come, and withstanding the pain gone by. He waited, seconds passed by as minutes in his churning mind, the blade came, it was ready to taste flesh...and Maximos was ready for it.

Then the clash. Two distinct motions in a blink of any eye, two fighters, life or death, giving there all. In a moment such as this, age, race, species, none of that mattered.

Kain's at the last moment found itself struck from the staff, Maximos had reached his right hand across and moved the blade up to buy himself a precious last second. This also meant that the blade was no longer aiming for that angle, but was heading straight for his neck. The gauntlet on his right hand had been cut, Kain's blade soaked through the metal a stream of black and red blood dripped down onto the ground. For a moment the crowd believed Maximos had been fatally struck...

But by no means.

Kain's blade was pressed directly against the base of Maximos' neck. Another second, and he might have really finished his opponent.

But Maximos had not moved in an effort to commit suicide.

In that same split second Maximos had moved his left arm from around his back around the blade. The arm was extended, the black flames wipped around the burned and burning limb, lashing at the air with murderous intent.

As with the sword from which the enchantment was borrowed, in the time gone by the arm had heated up. Just a thought, an instant and it could have fired turning flesh to ash, and stone to molten goop. The arm had stopped but an inch from Kain's nose, at the sound of the buzzer.

Given another second could Kain have sliced Maximos' throat? Could Maximos have charred Kain's face into nothingness?

There was no answer. And there never would be. The fight was over.

That inhumane chill eminating from the Shadow, that unholy gaze...vanished as quickly as it came. As if someone had just flicked a light switch in Maximos. He smiled from cheek to cheek, the friendliest tone possible present on his voice. It was as if he and Kain had been friends for decades before this fight and Maximos was greeting him, though they had just met.

Wow!

He said, releasing his right from the Naginata, the flames suddenly and erratically whiplashing, an vanishing from his left.

That was close!

He let out a little laugh, like a kid who had just enjoyed an awesome chess game, or just some other less than physical sport. All that ferosity, every drop of building fury...vanished. Like it was never there.

Maximos flicked his left arm, bits of ashy cloth scattering off of the red, and slightly charred skin. The Gauntlet on his leg arm, faded releasing the sleave and revealing a cut right palm, clear through the leather glove.

Good Match Mr. Kain!

He said with a smile and a wave of his gloved hand, and he turned around, and walked off! One could swear, as he poked his burned left arm, he muttered.

Yeow, that stings...

THAT stings...not the wounds from being impaled and nearly gutted...And the wounds were still there too. It seemed he had forgotten them...

He made his way off the ring and with a clip clop of boots hitting the tile floor, he was on the a** Tear sidelines. His eyes hit Joshua, he took a deep breath and shouted out, in an almost sarcastic tone.

MEDIC!