Cataclysm Canyon

CATACLYSM CANYON

Precarious rope bridges create a shaky path across the gap between two mesas in Barthavos desert. The wood is a little weather worn, the ropes are a little old, and the sudden gusts of wind that can blow through the canyon are unpredictable and violent. Falling into the canyon counts as a ring out, but collapsing the bridge is a red card.

Terrain

General - The mesas make for difficult footing due to unworked stone, while the rope bridges swing with little effort.

Weapons - None.

Bonus Effects - Getting thrown off the bridge or mesa constitutes a ringout. Do not cut the rope or otherwise collapse the bridges.

There wasn't a chance on Gaia's green acre that Teira would miss any more of her teammate's matches than she already had last round. But without any attempts on her life this morning, she'd made it to the canyon, cold but on time.

She wasn't fighting first, but she'd still insisted on being present start to finish. Especially against guys like THESE.

Curled up like a kitten and huddled around the heat of her thermos, she blinked up at Sun as he gazed out over the scenery.

"Pretty place... this round is going to be... tricksy."

She said even as she tucked her chin into the nest of jackets she'd made for herself while they waited.

"You think so?" There was a kind of deep amusement in Sun's voice. The place held memories for him, heartfelt ones. But this wasn't the place for those kinds of things.

And as the dark figure stepped out and offered a familiar sign in salutations, he dropped off his perch with a crack against the wooden boards, bending, and well near breaking the not so sturdy material.

Had he landed any harder he would have been through.

"..."

Sunstrike grinned, crouched on his end of the bridge, and it wasn't a nice expression.

"Leave some tea for me, Teira, I'll probably need it, 'fore this ends."

Then he raised up, skipping two or three planks and hopping to a stable looking one with another crack, shifting his weight, intentionally causing a few vibrations all along the rickety bridge. He was humming something that sounded suspiciously like "Londons Bridge."

1/17

Lazenca had arrived, taking in sights of the new area. It was interesting enough, and reminded him of a movie. It begged the question: was the water full of crocs?

He was being a good wulf, seated quietly and watching the match at Sun and Blake jumped right into the fight.

"Sure thing."

She replied to her teammate, her eyes followed Sun's feet, watching the bridge sway under his weight... watching the odd plank crack in two and fall away, leaving gaps. She shivered a moment as Sun strode out to meet his opponent.

'Something is different--- What's wrong Sun? Don't be too reckless...'

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone called her name.

Turning to look over her shoulder, golden eyes peeked out over the tops of her coat nest and settled on Rage? Noo---?

"Huh?"

She pulled to her feet, Sun's coat draped around her over top of her own coat. Finishing the cup of tea she had in a quick gulp. Her boots crunched against the snow covered ground.

"Mini Rage?"

She said with a grin.

The green-haired boy's eyelids lowered slightly as if to say uh-huh. Apparently it wasn't the first time he had heard this sort of thing, but he quickly managed to shrug it off. He was only about two inches shorter than his brother, but the resemblance was striking, to say the least.

He kept his eyes from wandering too much as Teira walked over towards him, giving a friendly wave.

"I'm Rage's brother... Axel. It's, um, nice to meet you," he said, holding out his hand for her to take. Unlike his elder he had a few more points in mannerisms and etiquette, and he could only hope it showed, even if he was stammering slightly, trying to pass it off as a side-effect of the chilly air.

He was SUPPOSED to be here delivering a message, but somehow that reason had been lost at the moment....

"Oof!

"Hey, watch it, punk!"

He didn't know anything about the other members of Frozen Flame - just the one that Rage had described to him, which was why he thought it was some pushy jerkwad and not a member of the team.

"Tch..."

Sun lightened up on the planks and moved straight into the other figure on the bridge. It was a low blow, a tackle really, shoulder to sternum, as soon as his opponent got a grip on the ropes and the axe. It was more of an off putting move then any real threat, a test of the other guy's meddle out on a platform that was more then a little unstable.

He was fighting with a lot of faith. Faith in his natural balance, the integrity of the bridge, and the fact that maybe the two could work together. He wouldn't hesitate over the removal of the weapon, time was simply not on his side. The bridge wasn't made for that.

Given half the chance, he'd use the force of hitting a probably immobile being as a spring backwards, pushing off and following the swing of the bridge enough to land and grab hold at the top of it's arc in the opposite direction, like you would lean on a boat in a rough sea.

He used the ropes like the side of a ring to absorb the force, and could feel the fibre straining against his weight.

At the tie's along the edges of the canyon the sound would be a little more alarming, making the ropes smoke and sputter a little as they ground deep into their stabilizers.

Dangerous games.

2/17

Nasty.

Sun saw stars as the bone cracked him in the face, immobile object indeed, and then, it wasn't just the fact that he'd made contact with Blake that sent the redhead back into the ropes, half dazed.

Pick it up, try again.

His fingers curled around the ropes as it began to swing the other way violently, brought on by his not so graceful collide. It was like those pirate ship rides in amusement parks.

Yanking his legs up, he'd kick outwards and slightly blind towards the other man, aiming for the legs or whatever would come into range as the bridge swung upwards moving both men like ragdolls. Being the right side of six foot, his frame would stretch enough to cover the gap between the two. The bridge being about two people wide...two thin people anyway.

More popping and straining sounds echoed off the canyon, and Sun felt a bit more give to his support then he was comfortable with. Hell... The nearest full bridge was nearly 5 yards away in either direction, though, much further down, there were a few below, would that still count as a ring out? He didn't really want to take that chance.

There would be gasps as the viewers lined up along the barricades, trying to see against the sunlight and wind, what the two were trying to accomplish.

3/17

The bridge was about to make it's swing back Blake's way, and the man had chosen to strike!

Sun felt the pain along his side as the metal slammed into bone, but it was an awkward hit at best, a shot in the dark.

Instead of flinching with the pain, he grabbed at it's source, palm against the top of the axe, and shoved downwards, letting go of the rope and ending up throwing all of his weight against the top of the weapon with the swing of the platform, hoping to clip or hit the other man's jaw with the end of the handle.

The way the bridge was going, Sun would be perilously close to falling off, his feet square on the ropes to either side of Blake's head, both hands against the metal of the axehead and the other man's hand.

Balance! At this rate, he was losing grip on what should have been acceptable for the constraints of this ring.

4/17

"OOF!"

Sun was down and the bridge splintered and cracked beneath his body. The heftier man checked him good, causing all the air to escape his lungs and splinters dig deep into his lower back. It actually made the bridge stop swinging for just a moment, even with the wind.

The effects rippled down the platform, snapping a few more of the boards just from the strain. He could feel air against his back, and falling was suddenly far more reality then he'd originally expected.

Growling to get his breath back he'd reach down and dig his nails and fingers straight into the softer places of the other man's face, looking to yank the other up enough so he could pull one knee to freedom by way of Blakes jaw.

5/17

Sun had been attempting to yank his leg up as Blake moved, so it was sheer luck, or deeply unfortunate that his manhood was missed and his kneecap got a handful of metal before it could reach the scratched face of his opponent.

His teeth clicked together at the crunch. that had been far too close, yet was still a b*****d. Eye for an eye, huh...

Sun waited for Blake to get a little further under himself, clutching his aching knee instead of the other man's face, before throwing both arms back to the edges of the hole his body had created, and yanking his other leg up, planting a metal clad foot into the opposite kneecap with everything that he had, half screaming as it wrenched his already wounded knee.

"SONOFABITCH!" The curse was more about the pain then his opponent.

6/17

"********!"

His left knee, his ******** left knee that had been hit by a guitar days before was the subject to pain once more. The knee bent and Blake's balance faltered as the board beneath his left foot began to give a little.

Tit for tat and all that.

From the knee Blake pulled his arm back, of course then he was kicked which caused a reflex of sorts. Not your normal hit the knee the leg rises; but a hurt me and I'm hitting you.

Blake's arm swung upwards this time in an attempt to catch Sun in the neck with the back of the axe head. When was he going to get a proper grip?

-6-

Sunstrike grinned again.

"Temper, temp-HCK" And Blake popped him hard with the back of the axe to the neck and jaw, up and across, cutting him off mid-taunt. Stars exploded in his vision and blood exploded from his mouth, leaving him panting.

He cursed himself for getting distracted and for being a twice over fool for doing so. He lashed out again, this time with a closed fist to Blakes right side, aiming for a kidney, but mostly praying for any contact at all, the stupid spots wouldn't go away.

7/17

"H-hey!"

Sun gritted his teeth, windpipe all but cut off, and yanked his mettallic leg up between the two of them again, foot bending alarmingly as all the weight came down, keeping at least that distance between the two bodies, but otherwise just contributing to the stalemate.

The boards creaked alarmingly and he could feel a draft all down his back as deeper wounds became worse with splinters.

I'm gonna fall at this rate. He let Blake get a grip around his torso, under the left arm, then half curled his fingers and gave the big guy a good pop to the bottom of the nose right where his palm met the rest of his arm. In the event the head went up, the same would be done to the adam's apple in another rapid half punch.

"Let. ME. UP!" Gritted teeth. He could have at least asked Sun for a first date before trying to get this far.

8/10

Teira's wings ruffled in the chill winter air as she glanced over her shoulder watching the fight unfold, then back to Axel.

"Pleasure to meet you Axel! I'm Teira, but uh... I guess you already knew that heh. What brings you up here? Shouldn't you be cheering for your broth--"

She was cut off as Silver pushed through.

"That's fine but-- DON'T BE SO RUDE, JERK!"

Yeah... she was still mad at him. Silver had developed an attitude out of seemingly nowhere and it was pissing her off. What gave him the right to be such an a** to his friends, let alone people he didn't know, who had never done anything to him.

"Psh. Sorry about that, he's been in a bad mood for days now. Why don't you come sit with us? I need to watch the fight, but we can chat there."

She would head back to where her team was standing.

Anger was building within her as she watched Blake and Sunstrike trade blows.

Every time Blake struck her teammate, the rage that she felt fueled something roaring to life within her. Her desire swelled, growing with each brutal hit.

When Blake struck for the groin Teira hissed angrily. There were rules about that! But he missed-- instead the pain she heard in her friends voice enraged her.

They didn't relent--- and the desire to see the man who was causing someone she cared about, only grew in intensity.

She was on her feet---

Lady Sierra Wrote:

Her wings opened---

'I've had enough of these guys already! They're---'

"-- THE ********>

Crawley had just showed up with a bundle of roses (the reason why he was late) and saw Teira displaying her wingspan and Blake putting the smackdown on Sunstrike. He grabbed a decent sized piece of rock from the mesa, stuck it down in the bundle, and ran down the mesa towards the bridge and ...

Lady Sierra Wrote:

Near silent, the roar of the wind would drown out the sound of air flowing over her feathers and the flap of her coat... .. Hurled the bundle of roses, with the brick in it, right at her head to knock the bird out of the sky so to speak.

"******** A STRIKER!"

Then he realized just what he had done. He had a shocked and nervous look on his face. Then one of shame. Then one of faux redemption...

"..... OH .. UM.. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!"

-STRIKER OFFENSE!-

"HEY GUYS! GUESS WHAT!!!!!!"

Something reflected in the sunlight. It was a yellow card.

"Mister Crawley, Yellow Card, Unauthorized fighter interefing in fight.

“GUYS! I’M HEALED!!!!”

They told him he wouldn’t make it! They told him he wouldn’t be able to fight in the next round! They told him, he would never lucha again!

But they were wrong… ALL WRONG! Thanks to the miracles of the Serial Healer, George was up and ready to go!

Fantasma was all spruced up for his epic intro, he had his pink, shimmering wresting tights on, red boots, and a matching red/pink Valentines Day mask complete with hearts and glitter. Of course, he kept this from his team and figured he’d surprise them.

And what better way to make an entrance than to use a striker?

So, George jumps onto the bridge and-

Lady Sierra Wrote:

She would drop Blake off on a ledge even as she flew straight up. Instead of flying back to her team's side of the canyon, there wasn't time now--

She would land, dizzily-

Sun was dying, unable to breath, pinned to the bridge. His world narrowed to a fine point, that sparkled...it was gold. It was also filling his vision, crimson leaked in.

Teira! A shout and something knocked into her. Trap! His eyes widened, but it was impossible to warn Blake in time!

Blake was doing his best to strangle his opponent when something wrapped around his neck and he was jerked back, painfully.

A massive weight began to drag him backwards; but Blake held onto Sun, his right arm holding on tightly, clenching his fingers into Sun's clothes he kept his grip. They would both be pulled backwards and suddenly they were in free fall.

Well if he was going to die he was taking another with him.

But then he was thrown against the side of the mesa and his grip was loosened. Either way they were both out of the ring.

Blake slid along the vertical wall for a while before he landed on a ledge was was really far too small for him and another and he felt as though he was still slipping.

So for the first time he used his hachet in a somewhat appropriate manner. He dug that axe head into the rock face and it wedged itself firmly.

Still he was hanging over the edge and it didn't look like a nice fall or an easy climb up.

"st ******."

Sun did the only thing he could do in that situation, he clung for dear life to a leg.

"I..." Cue coughing fit as he learned how to breathe again. "I'm sorry...that probably wasn't...." Deep breaths more coughing, and Sun just clung miserably.

"Treat you to a beer?" Things had been going badly, but somehow this seemed worse. Okay maybe not worse, it was neutral.

The cliff edge leered angrily at them with a furrowed brow.

In fact, it appeared to be getting more furrowed by the second, as if the cliff itself were shifting somewhat.

The brow was actually so furrowed that they might be able to use it as a ledge in order to climb up.

...huh.

"That's below the belt!"

Dirigible-Judge pedaled by the pair in his blimp/bike/thing. Ironically, he was pointing to a leather belt jammed into a rocky cleft in the cliff face above Blake and Sunstrike.

"Double ring out! Double KO!"

And now a Double KO.

And it was all George's fault.

C. Fox Wrote:

And it was all George's fault.

Someone watching the fight from internet live streams, lol'd.

Lazenca went whisperwhisperwhisper with Silver.

Well, s**t. Fox had to do something. He wasn't having any fun, so what the hell.

He went to George and Mr. C were. Now what he does is:

He picked Teira by the underarms, right?

The he flipped her over, face down, flat on the floor. Her booty up...No, no, no. He wasn't going to rape her or anything.

Anyways, then he grabbed George by the back of the head and lifted/pulled it back...

"Not this again."

"HMMMPMPHMHHHMPH!"

Fantasma wasn't sure what to think about the faceful of elvan demonic a** he has recieving.

He rolls off to the side. Forturnately he was wearing his Luchamask to protect him from whatever otherworldly germs lurked about. Saddly though, he'd have to have the thing euthanized in a holy fire somewhere.

"....."

The luchadore took a moment to reflect on his life and the choices he made that lead up to this moment. Now he had demon elf cooties all over his face...

and someone was going to pay.

Maybe not this round, but someone was definately going to pay.

"Aye..."

Fantasma flipped to his feet in time to watch his teammate run towards the bridge.

"OKAY HOMBRE!" The luchadore raises his right arm into the air only to have a mic suddenly fly into his outstreched hand from offscreen.

"LET ME CUT YOU A DEAAAAAAAAL!"

Fantasma points down the bridge and at Crawley.

"I, FANTASMA, CHALLENGE YOU TO A SPECIAL STIPULATIONS MATCH! BUT, SEEING HOW FIGHTING EACH OTHER NOW IS OUT OF THE QUESTION... I HAVE A BETTER IDEA!"

He pauses to take a breath before he shouts again.

"WHAT DO YOU SAY, HOMES? ARE YOU WILLING TO PUT YOUR DIGNITY AND REPUTATION ON THE LINE? OR..."

Geroge paces back and forth for a moment and then adds:

"ARE YOU SCURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRED?"

"TEIRA!"

Silver had appeared to be listening intently to Lazenca, stroking his chin in thought and nodding as he did so, when Mata Leon took things a little too far. He put a hand up to signal Laz to hold that thought.

"Just a second, Laz. I've had enough of this. I'm going to kill the rest of them myself..."

He began to storm his way down the bridge, cracking his knuckles as he did so. Enough was enough. He called down to Sun as he passed.

"I'll be back to help you up inna second."

He wasn't really paying attention to the foolishness between George and Crawley. They were both dead as far as he concerned. He was about to do George a favor and bring them back together, literally, head first.

Somewhere in the crowd, a grown-a** man shat himself.

"Hggnn--"

These guys weren't exactly gentle with her. As she was jostled and abused, consciousness pulled at her. Pushing the darkness back as she blinked and roled over, raising a hand to her head. Her fingers came away smeared with tacky blackness as she tried to figure out what happened.

Her head hurt, her backside was sore--

'The hell happened?'

The world was still fuzzy as she up, the ground jumped up to greet her and she groaned.

Silver Alexander Wrote:

[color=gray]He turned his upper body to the right slightly, aiming to shoulder charge Crawley at full speed with his left shoulder.

1 Crawley took one step back moved his weight forward and quickly dived his torso down so that his shoulder would be at Silver's hip level when he ran into him.

Then his legs shot out back from under him into a low lunging stance as he hugged Silver in place at hip level.

"Grrr!~"

2/17

Oh s**t. She's up.

He ran...He ran OH so far away...

Sunstrike was down on a ledge with Blake... those two didn't seem to still be punching at each other, so it was thought that they would be fine enough. Lazenca and Silver could concentrate on this... this debacle happening up the top, at the bridge. Silver stepped up, and Lazenca shifted up to Transitional.

Someone got clotheslined.

He took a deep breath. The atmosphere...

"Happy Valentine's Day."

Dirigible-Judge pedaled his blimp/bike over the mesa and produced a heart-shaped package all wrapped up in bow from the wicker-basket attached to the front of his bicycle's handlebars. It even had a little toy parachute on it so that when he dropped it from that height it floated gracefully down through the air to Tiera.

Inside she would find an assorted set of chocolates... some of which had already been eaten. Coincidentally, the dirigible-Judge had chocolate smudges on his armor.

Nonetheless, UNDERNEATH the chocolate Tiera would find a yellow piece of paper on the bottom of the box and a note scribbled on pink letterhead that had i's dotted with little hearts and other putridly thematic things wrong with it.

Yellow Card! George!

For the Spanish Fly and the things he did to you while you were out.

She caught the package and upon opening it, looked from the chocolates to the judge and giggled. The chocolate smudges on his armour were a dead give away about where the missing ones had gone.

But she didn't mind--- after her last run in with chocolates only 4 days ago, she didn't really want any.

What could she say? Poisoned sweets kinda' left a bad taste in your mouth.

"Thank you!~" She waved thankfully for the gift anyway.

The note that came with it made her grin.

'That's two cards against them---'

"Wait--- what's a 'spanish fly'? Just what DID they do?" It was a good thing ol'Georgey had fled the scene, otherwise she probably would have rammed the card down his throat.

Needless to say, despite the splitting headache, her senses were returning and temper was raging. How long had she been out? She got to her feet and leaned against a boulder. As her vision cleared she watched Silver take on two of them--

"YOU CAN DO IT, OTOUTOU!" She wasn't sure about where the term had come from, even saying it, the word's meaning didn't catch up to her right away. It just felt like the 'right' thing to say.

"Wait-- is he??-- That reminds me... Where's Sun?!"

Lady Sierra Wrote:

"Wait-- is he??-- That reminds me... Where's Sun?!"[/color]

"So..."

Sun looked up casually at the man that was keeping them alive or at least mostly unbroken. "You think they'll remember to pull us up before killing each other?"

He unhitched the weapon against his back, and drove into the rock. There was a flash, and a puff of smoke. The staff was now firmly embedded under his opponents feet, like a branch.

"Never did get your name. '******** you,' doesn't leave a lot of pleasantries to follow up with."

"Sun, nice to fightchya."

Sun cautiously let go of the other guy, standing on the staff. Whole lotta sharp rocks below. He rubbed the front of his neck and grimaced. Sooner he got that drink the better.

"Do they? You've done well so far, probably my fault in some way..." He reached up, looking for a handhold, then used his feet to get the pole out of the rock with another fizz of fire.

Regular acrobat this one. So he pulled himself up, and looked for another handhold enough to let him move onto the next.

Silver Alexander Wrote:

Leaning forward-- Silver should've spent more time with Reiko, so he'd understand the critical error here.

Crawley's eyes narrowed just as Silver began to wrap his arms around him from on top but ahead. Unfortunately for Silver, Crawley was in a low lunging stance with his center of gravity being lower. He pushed up from his rear foot and hoisted Silver high with a bearhug at the hips. Where Silver had to gain a grip, Crawley already had one.

He was rather horizontal, but this shouldn't bother George too much. Surely he could just press his shins against Silver's traps, squeeze, and hurricanrana from there. And if not he'd hurt his member on Silver's forehead and faux dogpile with a hold on Silver.

Either way.. Crawley rushed Silver's back to ropes on the side of the bridge Silver was meant to go over to tip the bridge horizontal.

And send them all over the thing.

All three of them.

Only.. when they started falling. Crawley got his foot tangled in the ropes while holding on with his right hand.

"GEORGE... YOU'VE DONE IT BEFORE... DO IT AGAIN!"

3/17

Krrrrkt

Krrrrkt

Krrrrkt

Over the horizon of Mata Leon's side of the bridge, sunlight would reflect off of a metal-donned swordsman. The dark-haired individual had reached the top of the nearest peak, planting his foot firmly down upon the rock ledge overlooking the bridge from about thirty feet higher in elevation.

He eyed the scene before him. Eight people had gathered to attack one another in some sort of unfathomable competition. Not like that mattered to him at all. He was here with his eyes on a different prize.

"Theerrre sshheee iiisss. Juusst lllike Rrra'karrr sssaid." an unearthly, almost disembodied voice whispered upon the wind. His gaze would wander over a few feet from where the airborne woman landed.

"Aannnd the chiiillld offf woolllvesss, asss welll. Howww... innnterrressstiiinng."

For now, he would wait and watch. Everyone else here was of little consequence.

HonoRaven Wrote:

She tied a sturdy slip knot in the rope and slid the loop down her staff before she tied her little tag onto the staff and stalked back towards 'the edge of the cliff with the rope, doing her best to toss it straight out from where the blond was standing... the rope would uncoil as it flew down, and hopefully it would come to a rest only a foot away from where Sunstrike was trying to climb back up, the end within reach of Blake as well.

Sun would wait for Blake to get up the rope first, before scrambling up it himself.

Once he was at the top, he'd sprawl out in the sunshine and just grin like an idiot, as if he'd escaped death or something...well...the water down there looked cold, DAMNIT.

He'd look upsidedown at everyone gathered at the ledge, and wondered what they were all pointing at and gasping about.

Teira slammed into Crawley, and stabbed his right bicep, yes. So he couldn't hold on to the rope. But he still had a foot tangled in it. And whether he crashed through the planks or not by having the majority of his body driven into it would not be sufficient to untangle him.

After all. You don't jerk on one end of a string to untie a knot.

So there would be

Crawley, who was in the ropes.

Silver, who was grabbing the Crawley with some unorthodox body lock.

And Fantasma, who was being a luchafag.

A real cliff hanger. His thoughts came in mumbles.

"This is stupid. I'm too polished, too decorated, too celebrated, and too respected in the ring... what kind of message would it send if I allowed these guys to beat us?"

Sigh.

But to sweet little Teira, who had wounded Crawley the most in this entire tournament. He could only offer one bit of sentiment with his left hand as she ended her striker on her team's side of the canyon.

Peep the pearlies as he says it.

"I'm still here, ya fairy."

His left hand went down... and tickled at Silver's right side and underarm.

"Coochie coo, ********."

4/17

Why could things never go as planned?

They men didn't go free falling... So she didn't have to save them. Yet.

As she tackled Reiko through the bridge, she frowned. He stopped moving.

UP she went and---

"OOOF-- OW!!!"

She had a monkey on her back. Almost anyway, Fantasma was clinging to her tail/waist/robes.

His poor hand would be shredded on the spikes of her tail spine, half inch punctures where ever he gripped.

She didn't have time to throw him off, her striker would be up soon-- She had to move fast. And with an extra ??? lbs that proved tricky.

Out of reach of Crawley and Silver as they dangled downward, and struggling with her new burden. She pried the ropes open and shook the wrestler's foot free.

"Hgggnn!"

Even through her gauntlets, her hands burned from the friction. But she got them separated.

If Fantasma tried to jump from her back to the bridge he'd be left hanging all over again as it was a tangled mess and not fit for walking on.

'The time--- DAMMIT!'

She would risk a card... she couldn't let them fall. Not Silver... not even the members of Mata Leon.

IF they were actually plummeting toward a gruesome death, Teira would go after them.

"Hold on to my waist!"

She would yell over the wind at Fantasma as she dove after the aerial grappling pair.

Her now free tail would wrap around Crawley's arm or leg, whatever she could grab, while her hands sought Silver's jacket. If given the chance, she would adjust her grip to under his arms.

The weight was too much.

It was all she could do to glide down to a cliff ledge, skidding roughly across loose rock. Nothing graceful about that landing.

Her shoulder was cracked from tackling Crawley, little spider veiny lines running down her collar bone and upper arm. Her already sore backside was paining her greatly from the tail yanking she'd received.

She just lay there shaking her head.

That hadn't been anything at all like what she'd pictured in her head.

"I can fly you up... but one at a time."

She stared at the sky and didn't look at anyone. She would move when she was good and ready.

'That was more than ten seconds... ugh... a card for saving THEM... as if!'

Lady Sierra Wrote:

Her now free tail would wrap around Crawley's arm... Right arm. His left grabbed the back of her left ankle and he just hung on. Being docile as he thought things through. As he looked at the back of Silver, observing him as he was haphazardly carried by Teira under the arms. He began to grow angry. Angry that things had come to this. The match should've been his until she interfered.

Silver should've had a nice 6 foot rectangle in the ground dug out for him by now.

"I've had enough of this...

And he didn't have a KO/ringout all to himself was just setting him over the edge. Figuratively. It had already been done literally.

"... BULLSHIT!"

Crawley's knees came up to his chest and he thrusted them out dually at Silver's back to propel him out of Teira's hands and at sides of the canyon below. Of course the shift in balance should cause her to wobble now, Crawley and Fantasma wobbling with her.

But he managed. He managed to work his injured right arm to grip her tail tightly, enduring spikes and all, and pulled himself up to her back. And used his left hand to quickly flick his teammate, George, in the eye to make him lose his grip.

"Fight on, luchafag."

Much aerial balance would be lost as the sudden shifts from heavy weight to weight less, and Crawley moving around on her. He wrapped his legs tight around her waist from the back and set his body between her wings.

"I haven't used this all tournament.. but I think now is an appropriate time."

He snaked his left arm around her neck from behind and clasped it in his right arm and squeezed her neck tight as he pressed his face against her upper back. More importantly, he bridged ever-hard to make sure that they headed straight down. An upside down Rear Naked Choke (MATA LEON) with them headed head first for the dark abyss of the canyon below.

"MATA LEON : DUUUURIVAAAAAAH!"

-- See everybody next round... or next HoH...

5/17

"OW OW OW!"

Maybe grabbing chica's tail wasn't such a good idea.

He pulled back his bleeding right hand and just wrapped it around Teira's waist. It was all good though, until his own teammate poked him in the eyes, causing him to fall from the flying elf-woman thing.

"Aye..."

Was this the end of George? Would our masked hero be left to plummet x amount of feet to a gravity-induced bone-liquifying death?

Of course not.

George's left hand grabs hold of a large rock along the side of the cliff.

"Whew..."

He glances upwards towards what's left of the bridge. Not such a bad climb. This would be no problem if the luchadore if it weren't for his hand.

"Allright George, suck it up, and get back up there!"

Fantasma game himself a little pep talk and started to climb.

Fox facepalmed, again.

Goddamn it...

...was the only thing he had to say about the outcome of the fight.

Now I have to fight some ********' hairy wolf man. Man...

Well, Lazenca made the bridge more stable by using his Ice powers or whatever.

So he just walked towards the center, his right hand holding whatever was to his right.

There was a hole in the center of the bridge or something, so he just stood like 4 feet apart from it.

So...somebody has to jump over the hole now, and it wasn't going to be him.

1/17

[.. X ..] Wrote:

Oh, if Fox didn't have the mind to occasionally pick his feet up from the ice being laid down, he'd have his feet frozen into the bridge...

Precisely.

[.. X ..] Wrote:

Nobody would have to. Unhindered, the hands on the ground would direct waves of cold along the breaking and broken bridge. More seconds, and the ice would actually form, thickening around each individual board and linking with itself and others like it.

Female announcer: FIRST ATTACK!

While Lazenca was busy ''fixing'' the bridge, he took the chance to dash, small leap toward and SHINING BLACK Lazenca.

Shining Black, you say? It is merely a variation of the Shining Wizard, invented by Masahiro Chono.

Since this move consists of putting the left leg on some part of the body, it would depends whether Lazenca was taking a knee or was on all fours. If Lazenca was on all fours, his left leg would likely land, with some inevitable force, on Lazenca's right arm, 'round the forearm. If Lazenca was on a knee, it'd be like the GIF. Either way, he was sending a boot to the face.

Then he would land flat on his back, on the pre-made ice surface over the hole which caused a crack on the surface, because he didn't let Lazenca finish it. His lower body would land on the boards, and his hands would be in kinda flinging in the air in case he had to hold on to something fast. So his fall was pretty safe.

2/17

Well, he didn't really run. He just dashed. Thats like, 2 steps, and a leap at the second step.

[.. X ..] Wrote:

"Get up."

He does a sit up, his right hand reaching the icy ropes or whatever to his right. He...

[.. X ..] Wrote:

"Get up!"

SHUT UP MAN, I AM!

He furiously gets himself up, his right hand no longer holding that rope cuz not only it was burning cold, he didn't want to fall into some nifty ice tricks Lazenca might have.

He his legs shoulder width apart, positioned at 45 degrees, right side leading, low posture, like a low wrestling stance. All to maintain balance.

GRR!

He began taking slow steps towards Lazenca, because s**t was shaky and he couldn't run. It was going to be difficult to run anyways, because the bridge was going to be either slippery or...like it already is.

COME ON!

He said with a little fist pump and shake.

3/17

((s**t, got caught up on Vent.))

He saw Lazenca rush at him, with the arm bent inwards.

What he didn't know was that some kind of...''lines'' were coming off the hand, as an offensive attack.

However, the arm flicking outward alone made him react, by weaving his upperbody backwards, like a boxer. His legs stayed in the same place.

The ''lines'', though, caught him. 3 simple cuts across his pectorals, one under another, horizontally, like Bruce Lee in Enter The Dragon.

NNN~!

He felt something, like a sensation. But all of his attention was focused on Lazenca, so he didn't really know he was cut. No time to take his eyes off Lazenca, he would have to look later.

Anyways, he quickly retaliated. Like, very quick, right after getting cut. He lent forward with a left straight punch aimed at Lazenca's face, while Lazenca's right arm was still stretched out. He was still standing in the same place.

4/17

Fox should've moved back. Because that meant the free-hanging right arm, now coming up and over, would have had a higher chance of not really hurting too much. But the distance was closed. Fox's fist connected, again uncontested.

There was a bit of misconception about Lazenca's being a berserker. He knew what attacks were coming, and he could recognize damage. He could pretty much feel it, know that it was taken... but it didn't matter. In fact, Lazenca might, as he was doing now, grin as the force was unleashed upon his body. Something feral was gripping him now, wild and primal.

Don't blink now, or you'll miss it.

His right claws came up and over, completing the initial Draw for the Fangs of the Arctic Wulf-- the same white lines leapt forward, Fox now taking more of the attack since Lazenca could physically slash through him now. The Draw usually put him on a low crouch, good for chasing FotAW, and for...

His hands switched directions, body coming right back up for more slashing. And from here, Lazenca fell into his own wild rhythm with steadily increasing tempo as he went back and forth, up and down, Drawing lines and ripping Fox's body apart in the controlled chaos known as Maelstrom.

Can't outbeast the beast.

[disk 4, track 5]

Son of a...

He'd used a bit of energy... going wild, messing up, maybe not thinking as clearly as he should've been. It kinda felt like the last fight-- things could go right, but there was the singlemindedness that kept him from striking the decisive blow. Take a lick to give two... he'd been too used to taking them. When would Lazenca's mind clear past ANGR so he could just fight?

Probably wouldn't be for another minute or so. In the meantime...

Quote: A choking technique, Lazenca's greatest weakness.

Stopping airflow's actually a good way to get Laz to stop, as proven there. Because there, he was playing by other rules that meant he couldn't shift up to Negative. So now Fox was holding on to the 10-foot tall hairy wulfman he'd been griping about fighting, anyway. It was the difference between being successful and almost but not quite being successful, bigger neck and all.

See how the guy in the picture is doing little with his hands? Just kinda... holding on and trying to lessen damage or whatever it is people do when they're surprised? Yeah, that wasn't happening now. With a longer reach, he got his arms around Fox's legs, which were still gripping his neck... and grabbed him by the neck to make sure he wasn't going anywhere because a moving Fox was a bad Fox. He then picked him back up with relative ease, turned to the right post which was probably a foot or two away, and slammed Fox's back down over the near edge.

Repeatedly, as necessary.

Oh, Fox could let go of Lazenca's neck now if he'd like to try and get away, though that meant undoing the tangling he did and Laz compounded by shifting. Didn't mean Laz was letting go until something cracked, Fox tapped, or cried Uncle. Knowing this team, the last two weren't happening. Besides, Lazenca was about tired of asking people to stop fighting anyway.

[disk 4, track 6]

One day, when he was fighting the infamous Reiko and his flavor-of-the-month Rose, Lazenca went for a Frankensteiner (which is pretty much close enough to the same thing for Laz's purposes since he never did a true wrestling Frankensteiner anyway) but the woman cut up his legs upon landing, since she was able to see it coming from yards away.

And then another time when fighting Ariah at Esthell, she did some tricky icky and though he'd managed to get her up, Lazenca landed all crazy and hit his head against the building after sliding around.

Quote: "Hey, screw you and your flashbacks, why does this matter?"

This matters because someone who uses N move should know how to defend against N move and with two notable people reminding him of how easily screwed the move can get... Laz knew.

This knowledge was applied to Fox's moving back. Laz didn't know he was going for the ropes, just that he was bending backwards for something-- and when like this, it's usually a flip. So Fox would find it awfully easy to move Laz's hands away, because Laz's left was moving to the leg around his neck. His own right hand was going to the pillar so he'd have something to hold on to.

His own right leg moved back to further anchor himself as his head tucked and with a shove and Fox's own twisting away, he expected Fox to go flying like a wobbly top off the bridge. However, he'd grabbed the ropes, lucky guy. So now both were disengaged from each other.

"..."

And Lazenca's hand was on the pillar.

"..."

And now Fox's hands were frozen to the ropes in exactly the same manner that they'd been stabilized. There'd be frost this time, since Lazenca was much less depressed and had a mind to actually use a nice amount of energy in it, and do it quickly.

That's what he gets for trying to choke out a dragon a unicorn an Esterian Wolf Tame.

"..."

UnTriggered Alpha Shift Black >> UnTriggered Normal

[disk 4, track 7]

Blake was beginning to enjoy a beer when he was bothered by the fact that his team mate was having issues. Why did they always seem to have some trouble or another?

"Bloody bastards can't even manage themselves."

So he was forced to trigger his watch to send notice that he was strikering. Throwing a half empty bottle away he picked up his hatchet and walked towards the bridge. The two would be too busy fighting each other to really take notice of a man just walking.

It was kind of odd though, they were fighting practically on the mesa for how close they were to it. Blake wasn't going to worry about it as it just meant there was less distance to travel.

Now stepping onto the bridge he wasn't too far away from the others and Lazenca was occupied with trying to get a leg off from around his throat and Fox looked like he wanted to throw the guy off the bridge.

In enters the hatchet. This little tool of metal and wood was gripped firmly in a two handed grip that would see Blake swinging at as though it were a baseball bat straight for Lazenca's spine. His feet were planted well and the only resistance he should encounter was when he pulled the hatchet back to swing once more.

All in all Blake figured he could get in a good three to four such hits before he was forced to leave in a hurry less he spend too much time in the fight.

The only thing he wasn't certain on though was the extent of the damages, a normal human would probably have been dead from the blows and if they lived they'd be paralysed; but people had an odd habit of doing weird things here and Lazenca was clearly not human.

Oh, this hurt. Did anyone expect it to do something else other than hurt? Did someone expect him to do something else other than open his jaws and let out a sound of pain? His spine? His mickey-vickey SPINE?! Are you reading this, people? Blake just took an AXE to Lazenca's SPINE. And he wasn't doing it once, he was going to keep doing it.

That sounds like intent to kill. That sounds like a reason to get pissed.

The pain was destined to come back as his mood leveled out. He wasn't too... depressed with the prospect of losing his team to the dark, because someone was helping him... and there wasn't a huge booming voice stopping the fights for death flags. His subconscience/one of those voices was telling him that it'd be alright. Just fight.

He'd gone about it the wrong way, almost losing himself as against his last opponent, rushing too hard or not hard enough and paying for it. He being calmed by those voices still, told that this wasn't the wrong way. Play it straight, play it patient, and something would happen to make it right.

Had Blake not stepped in and tried to chop him like an oak, then that moment of tide-turning and calm would be upon Lazenca.

Instead, the calm was gone. His mind was in Alpha Shift Black... and with an AXE IN HIS BACK ARE YOU SERIOUS that's how he would stay.

The first hit made his vision white with the pain. It was a flash, a searing heat that was undeniably there. The second hit may have well been a strike with a toothpick because against all common sense, there was no pain response to it. His body responded by straightening, by letting out a large gush of blood that was sure to stain him terribly... but pain?

Fox was still thrown off. Screw Fox, he could still hang there with all his flipping attempts. No ice, he was free to scramble back up. Lazenca turned quickly to Blake, somewhere between pulling back from the second chop or going in for the third, and swiped with a backhand aimed at knocking the arm away, at dislodging the axe and sending it out of his hands. Or not, who cares? The important motion was the other (left arm) coming around and down in a sweep, the hand taking solid hold of one of Blake's legs.

One big sweep... and Blake should've been hitting the pole. There were bigger plans in store for him though, as Lazenca spun around again and used his other hand to secure his hold on the leg while pushing his arms up. Looked like he was swinging around a big ol' turkey leg, and now holding it high over his head.

The bridge... Fox had never let him finish securing it. By now, the ropes were thawed enough for movement and what was on the wood itself was thin. It was a layer of ice that didn't matter.

Fox could still be on the ropes, he could getting to his feet, he could be coming in with a flying knee. Either way, he had a Blake careening towards him. And with this kinda force, it'd probably send both members of Mata Leon through the boards, and into the cavern.

And if none of this worked or mattered? Then Lazenca would still have to deal with the AXE AGAINST HIS SPINE TIT LICKING TOPLESS SCIENTOLOGY YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME.

[disk 4, track 7 TOMDOUCHEFAGNANIGANS.]

He did the hurracarana, then realized he wasn't holding Lazenca.

What the ********>

He pulled himself back into the bridge, standing there looking clueless, cuz Lazenca just turned to him and ignored his a** to fight Blake.

7/17

He tried to firer while moving backwards so his balance was already off when Lazenca pounced on him. This forced his back to hit against the sand covered mesa in such a way that he gasped for air the wind was knocked from his lungs.

In a way Blake had to think this guy, he wanted to shove his pistol down someone's throat. He just never figured he'd risk loosing his arm to it. As the teeth clamped down Blake used all the motion his hand could give him to beat that heavy weight around the inside of Lazenca's mouth, maybe he'd get a tooth ache.

He was dazed and frantic in his motions, attempting to get whatever was happening to stop.

When his arm was grabbed his eyes grew wide as he could only guess what was planned for him. Blake's legs flailed, attempting to kick Lazenca from his back; which was no position to kick anyone in.

About the only somewhat effective tactic he could do was to clench his left fist and bash it against Lazenca's face. Aiming for nothing in general but just wailing on him as though he held a knife in an ice pick grip.

While that happened his arm was being torn off.

"******** monster!"

Literal truth.

Now we must turn to something else, the fans. Lazenca may have a large following compared to the young up start; but there's something to be said of someone seemingly out of his rank attacking a visible beast that doesn't stir within some hearts the notion of struggling against the odds.

Everyone loves an underdog. And even more love one that had in the past delivered one of the most impressive fights of the whole tournament. Yes, you can not discount the fans of Blake's fight against Chance while Dethklok blasted out their wild concert.

And then there was the general fans of gore that were getting their choice viewing with the tearing of Blake's arm off with nothing more then muscle strength.

A more technical minded person though would consider whether or not Blake had been in the ring for more then ten seconds. By most his Striker would have started upon stepping onto the bridge and would end when he had left it; but due to circumstances he was now off the bridge but not entirely disengaged from combat.

"?" Ray, who had come to watch Lazenca fight, was now listening to the crowd screaming fans holler something about a chest, or cheetos. She couldn't really grab it until fanned ears would span, letting her take in the chant.

"Chestoh?" It seemed this woman who started the chant was a very die hard fan of Team Mata Leon. And Ray, well, if people had watched her interview during the cage fight, they'd know Ray was a die hard Frozen Flame fan.

And so. Ray would stand. Waltzing over to Asherah and her body lifter, before she'd take a quick jab at the back of the mans leg to make him crouch down, bringing the woman with her, and as she came down, Ray would snatch the megaphone from her with narrowed eyes, staring down.

"Mayn, ******** Chestoh." Ray brought the megaphone to her mouth, right infront of Asherah's face and without much thought she'd scream into it. "TEA-AIR-RA, LAZ-EN-CA, SUUNNN-STRIKE, AND..." A pause and Ray would shrug. "THATOTHERGUY." (Sorry silver. xD) "LAZENCA! TEAR THEM APART!" By that last statement, she'd stopped screaming in the poor womans face, and had turned to watch Laz', the megaphone now dropped while she raced to get a better view.

Hopping over people and weaving through crowds Ray would make her way to the front, climbing up some random mans back while she'd stand on his shoulders perfectly balanced.

Watching, she'd grin wide at Lazenca's move, but frown at the wound in his back. "Tch." Stomping down one foot, Ray would throw her fists in the air. Just in time to see the gun. "DON'T DO EE-" Too late, Lazenca had reacted and now had the man in his jaw. Grinning, she'd keep her fists in the air, now jumping on the poor mans shoulders while chanting.

"LAZENCA

LAZENCA"

Now Ray had her own group of rabid fangirls and fanboys chanting behind her. Some even want into song and dance. But Ray, Ray stood at the top, continuing to shout her faveorite fighters name. "LAZENCA! LAZENCA! LAZENCA! GET 'EM BROTHER!"

Things were getting brutal, and Wulf was caught between an arm and a hard on place. A few seconds were really all Sunstrike needed. He was already running along the ropes, and moving straight onto the fighting platform.

His FIGHTER blazed with his intentions.

Two could play at this strikering game.

FROZEN FLAME - Sunstrike - OFFENSIVE STRIKER

Fox was completely and utterly ignored. Thank the higher powers for Sunstrike's intervention.

Springing into fox's back to throw of his jump on Lazenca... he felt both of them slam into his back and with Blake's arm in his mouth, he quickly turned-- this would them both to Lazenca's right, with him turning left. Having both of them slam into his back did absolutely no good for his injuries. Everything seemed to slow down as he was made more and ever more aware of his back.

A recap of the chaos was in order.

• Blake is currently without a right arm, and thusly no longer a threat.

Sunstrike sailed the winds to surf on the back of...

Fox, who was likely getting his day ruined.

The ropes of the bridge were weeping with melted ice, the entire thing soggy and ready to come apart from so much abuse.

Silver was going the way of Wile E. Coyote.

Lazenca stood.

He couldn't fathom everything that was going on. Using his right hand to remove Blake's arm from his maw, he turned slowly to Fox as Sunstrike was breaking away. Laz was forced to stretch backwards, but quickly ended that motion when he felt it. Actually felt it... the line in his back. He wasn't aware that all this tussling had opened up a larger line on his back, where Kael's sword had dug into him and Laz rolled to put it down. There was a sort of diagonal cross on his black, the crimson formation visible and smeared despite the large amount of fur on his body. The blood ran down his tailguard, and was pooling beneath him.

He tried to shift... it hurt. Something was wrong... he's usually only unable to shift when something's broken. But if something was broken and the most serious injury was to his back, he shouldn't be moving. What could it be, then?

He hunched over waiting for Fox. This wasn't life or death, so maybe he should quit? Nobody could fault any of them, for they fought hard.

Don't.

Finish.

Running strong with a high head...

...or stumbling through the end and collapsing an inch past the line...

"...Yield."

Blake's arm, now a club, was leveled with obvious intent. This was the last stand.

UnTriggered Alpha Shift Black >> UnTriggered Normal.

[disk 4, track 9]

C. Fox Wrote:

He got knocked over Lazenca, rolling over Laz and Blake.

ARGH! YOU ****** f!

That was to Sunstrike.

Sun would lick his middle finger and hold it high, then roll it in the air.

Purely with and expression of Bite me.

For Fox's benefit.

If the other guy wanted to act like a hypocritical a**, Sun sure as well was gonna treat him that way in return.

Meanwhile the crowds were all on their feet for Lazenca, cheering, crying out, supporting the big guy all the way.

"YOU CAN DO IT LAZ!!!"

Catcalls were hurled at Fox for the poor display of sportsmanship.

Somewhere... a black guy, age 20, and just getting home from work threw his ******** monitor across the room in response to this complete BULLSHIT.

He threw Blake's arm at Fox, growling. This was eight different flavors of annoying and stupid. Fox could catch the arm, or he could let it fly over his head, or let it bounce off and be the last thing sailing down into the darkness.

Everyone watching knew what injuries had been sustained. It was obvious. And though his fans, his team, or even a fourth of his psyche may not appreciate it, he'd practice what he preached. He knew when to...

"I yield."

Pathetic.

[disk 4, track 10]

[STOP BUMPING THE TABLE, OR I SWEAR.]

When Lazenca spoke of quit his fans went quiet, there wouldn't be a boo or what the hells. Instead, it clicked with each and every one of them. He was hurt, and needed to be treated. Instead, they'd clap for his and his opponents fight. Chanting thanks and good fight.

Ray plopped down on the man's back and then got off, walking a distance away. She'd wait for Lazenca to leave for the hotel before she'd follow behind quietly, her head covered in a hat and hood. She didn't want to show him just yet.

"Lazenca, if you have a hard time washing your wounds. I'll help. And keep my clothes on." this was said only after the round was over and Ray could approach the wulf man.

He turned around after shaking hands, seeing all the meds around him, tryign to check him and whatnot.

It's ok. I'm fine. Some ice would do. Hold on...

Fox then turned to the cameras and spectators/fans, making a victory pose while shouting:

CHESTOOOAHHH!!!

Then he sat down to let the meds do their job.

Flag rescinded due to ******** up positioning and poorly written descriptions.