Colosseum

"STILL RATHIN' FIRED, GOATSICK!"

Yeah, they were still arguing.

Ebris Dhifi was unequivocally pissed the rath off, which was made abundantly clear with how many loud swears were heard over the ANGR-filled, diesel rumbles of the mighty Frankenjeep, which carried the lot of Team Honestly, Nice Guys to their new destination - in rathin' style. Two certain individuals would be forcibly reminded of a time when they had to deal with the bounty scum's driving skill, and they would be reaffirmed at how horrific a driver he was. Entire benches, lamp posts and similar grod were taken out by the gigantic vessel's MEANFACE plow, as the hunter didn't even really bother to slow down at any turns and curbs. There was grod to get to - grod Ebris knew rathin' entirely about.

Now! Onto why he was in such a lovey-dovey mood this day. After his fight with that rathin' pansy Jimbo who tagged in for his Best Jimbo Forever, Ebris found out that the sumbitch had done really hurt him good. What was assumed to be a temporary wound was a rathin' nerve severing. Grod took the entire week to fix and heal. During which, he was forced to stay in the too-small beds and forced to watch the rathin' Katana channel, eat grod that tasted like paste and a** and unable to drink any piss. NO PISS! That really got his goat.

But, with the lack of a milky white in place of his left eye signaled that his eye was done good now, right?

RATHIN' WRONG.

Ebris didn't know how they coulda rathed it up, but the sumbitches he had contacted to get himself a new eye - which had been implanted in a dual surgery session when fixing the groddy nerve problem - but they done did. Instead of a good ol' blue colored one to shove into his enormous, thick skull, the faggerts had gotten their hands on a PINK eye.

RATHIN' PINK!

How the rath did that work!? Pink ain't no rathin' natural color. PISS did he rage so hard, especially when they told him it might have come from moonspeaking animal demon or some grod like that. Took ALL of his Throne-damned willpower not to rip their heads off and grod down their necks. And, after getting back from all that grod, he watched the replays of Goatsick's fight, which revealed how piss poor she done did, and then found her RATHIN' THAT CRAZY MUTIE JIMBO HE DONE HATED. NEARLY RUINED BOTH HIS GRODDY EYES FROM THE SIGHT!

So yeah, he was pissed. Sooooo pissed. That was a few hours ago, and Ebris had rathin' fired her approximately 36 times by no-

"FIRED! RATH YOU BLACK FOR GETTIN THAT BROAD! RATHIN' FIRED!"

Make that 37.

All of them were dressed in spiffy wear, oddly enough. That's because the rathin' event they were supposed to have gone to called for before they got this grod of a fight declaration. Ebris had been shoving the tux over his coat and vest when it came in. His face had gotten rathin' weird then, as he knew what the rath this kinda fight info meant. It caused him to take all of his grod with him for this fight.

Finally, they made their way to the Throne-damned arena - a Colosseum. Whooo, this was gonna be some crazy grod. Grumbling and swearing, Ebris hopped outta the Frankenjeep awkwardly - as there was some big, rounded grod under his coat on his back - and began to storm his way through the corridors of the giant structure, leaving his teammates entirely behind.

Even when his heavy, booted feets started stomping on the bloodied sand of the arena, Ebris didn't stop, not even to pay attention to the rathin' crowd all around him, which called out for blood and more. No, that weird look was still on his mug - like a cross between SRS and plain, rathin' nuts. What the hell was the matter with him?

It didn't take long for the bounty scum's massive strides to carry him to the center. It was then Ebris began to appraise everything around him, giving it all that weird look while his paws seemed to clench and open sporadically at his sides. Then, without warning, his entire frame seemed to tense, arms coming to brace out at his sides, his face looked up and his gravelly, booming voice filled the entire Colosseum.

"JIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMM-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ebris was done expecting someone already - but was it the right Jimbo to expect?

Oh, Ebris was about to have it coming. Katie was practically up in his face as he drove them to the Coliseum in his Frankenjeep. He thought he could yell. ******** no. There was a moment that Katie thought she might pop a vein she was so pissed off.

He thought he should be pissed? Hell no, he was the one that interrupted her sexy time. That stuff does not go appreciated.

"I CAN'T BE FIRED! I QUIT! GOD DAMNIT!"

She practically tripped over her feet from getting out of the Frankenjeep so quickly when it reached its destination. Her eyes narrowed down at James as she passed him.

"HOW COULD YOU PUT ME ON A TEAM WITH THAT!?"

She tossed a wild hand into the air as she followed behind Ebris inside, her own feet hitting the sand with soft thuds.

At least her outfit would befit the occasion. She was dressed up in full armor, beautiful ceremonial armor that was gold and white, and she never leaves home without her sword, so that was strapped across her back.

"BUNCHA PANSIES!"

She cursed and did some of her own raging as she entered the Coliseum behind Ebris. It took a lot for her not to come up behind him and sucker punch that big hairy ape.

Instead, she was back up in front of him, in his face with her hands splayed on her hips.

"You punk! I'm going to KICK. YOUR. a**."

She made sure to enunciate those last three words.

And he waited...

Black Wrote:

"Hnn...dust."

Acting all prim and proper and grod

And waited...

Goatsick Wrote:

RABBLE RABBLE RABBLE

And...oh, rath this bullgrod!

A big, beefy hand shot up and clamped over the BAAAAAAAAAAWing Amazon's face, muffling her words before shoving her off to the side in extreme irritation. Ebris continued to glance the rath around, looking through the masses of sumbitches gawking and yelling for a certain someone he'd never find. There were no rathin' dots in the sky either, indicating something falling down from it. The bounty hunter began to grit his teeth together horrendously, causing the veins and muscles in his neck to start throbbing and bulging out.

Where the rath was he!?!

Before Ebris could bellow out another challenge, someone made themselves known, but it wasn't the faggert he was hoping for. Still, the scum turned to the source of the droning racket, only to see something that nearly caused him to snap. A DOLL. A RATHIN' DOLL. The hunter's thick arms waves around all pissed-off like while he threw off a host of interesting, choice words at the thing.

"WHAT TH' RATH IS THIS GROD!? SOME SORTA RATHED UP SESAME STREET FROM HELL!?"

How he knew about Sesame Street while being a SPACE MAN would be unclear. Since there was no apparent way to get to the balcony where the f*****t toy was acting all ominous, Ebris was forced to listen to the rathin' thing. He didn't do this too happily, though, which was apparent with him stomping around and swearing and kicking up grod and so forth. He did seem to pause briefly for important points made - electric shocks and grod like that - but it was only for a moment, which was then replaced by his raging.

Finally, the grodpacked thing was done. Ebris' fighter was the one that was blinking, so it was obvious he was the prime candidate for this little party. A vicious expression was now stretched over the sumbitch's mug as he gazed up all MEEN-like at the piece of grod toy.

"FINE 'N RATHIN' DANDY. NOW WHERE IS JIMBO!? I GOTS SOME BUSINESS TA ATTEND TO WITH HIM."

It seemed he was still confident that that certain someone was still gonna show up. Ebris' demeanor was so wild right now that it suggested that if any of his team faggerts tried to come in at any point before Ebris was pretty much rathin' dead, he'd rip them limb from limb after this grod was said and done. And that was if they were rathin' lucky.

"I see," was all that Mr. Black had to say in response to the 'throne damned' doll's instructions about how this event was about to go down. Throughout the explanation he had simply stood there slowly smoking the cigar in his hand, but now that it was all wrapped up he reached inside the breast of his tuxedo coat and pulled out a steel cigar case. Extinguishing the cigar on the side of the case he opened it up and placed the partly consumed cigar into the case beside the others.

"Then I just have- ..."

Pausing midway through putting the cigar case back where it had come from James suddenly reached to his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief; coughing into it a few times before regaining his composure. He folded the handkerchief over the spot of red that was on it and tucked it back into his pocket; running his tongue along the inside of his cheek to mop up the blood in the corner of his mouth.

"I just have one question. Where are the boundaries of the fighting area?"

Oh, that damn ape had his dues coming. Oh, did he ever, and when that doll face started telling the rules about shocking someone out a huge grin split on her face.

Oh yes, there was going to be a reckoning.

Katie took one step back towards where James was now standing, leaving Ebris to stand out there alone. Hearing the judge's reply, she started for the balcony, which had the perfect view of the pit.

She definitely wanted a good spot to watch Ebris get his a** kicked, and she was getting a good look at that slab of metal near the throne. It looked like it might be worth something.

Nah, there was a simple little wooden gate on one of the walls which opened up onto a stairway, towards the upper portion of the building. people had plenty of time to prepare and step down into the pit if they wanted to switch. It gave whoever was knocked out immunity anyway during the exchange.

"Striker assist are unnecesary. The switch was changed to a substitution function."

Clank

Clank

Clank

There. There it rathin' was. Despite the dying but still loud crowd, the bounty scum heard the noise coming from a mile away, and it started to boil every last bit of blood in his body. Ebris was one of the oldest sumbitches in the tournament, but thanks to all the rejuve treatments he'd gotten over the past several decades, he'd managed to keep all his grod in tip-top order. Might have rathin' been 50'ish physically, but rath, that didn't stop him from kicking Jimbo a** so hard they were puking their guts from all the grod getting shoved up into their mouths.

Keen, intense blue and pink (RAAAAAAATH) eyes glared at the source of the noise, which was coming up from behind the rathin' kids show reject. The noise really grabbed Ebris' attention, as the hunter knew that the sumbitch he was expecting wore armor. A sickeningly wide, toothy grin began to spread over the scum's scarred mug, which was paired with an ever-growing, ever-insane gaze. It was pretty rathin' unnerving to see the bounty hunter so Throne-damned thrilled and expectant - not even the Cole Jimbo got him going like this. It was like he was about to get his massive paws on a perpetual alcohol-generating machine, or some grod like that.

It was him.

It was rathin' him!

IT WAS RATHIN' -

CLANK

...PISSSSSSSSSSSSS!

Ebris' jaw dropped, plain and simple. While this sumbitch was covered in all sortsa armor, it obviously wasn't the Jimbo he had been expecting. Beyond the rathin' fact that the armor was different, the b*****d up above was taller, bigger, carrying actual weapons (and HUEG ones at that), and didn't have no Throne-damned wings. Unless the particular Jimbo Ebris was thinking of done got some rathin' crazy plastic surgery going on over the course of a year, this definitely wasn't who he was hoping for.

"WHAT THE RATH!? PISS! YA AIN'T THE RIGHT JIMBO!" If he had a hat, the hunter would had thrown it to the ground and stomped on it right and rathin' proper. Instead, general stomping, arm flailing and swearing had to suffice. Ebris suddenly wheeled on Black, Goatsick and the rathin' judge who appeared outta nowhere, giving them all one crazed, vein-throbbed look.

"Ya go get th' rath outta here so I can learn this Jimbo somethin' good, then I'm gonna find the RIGHT Jimbo and rip his Throne-damned a***e its OWN Throne-damned a***e!" Spittle flew everywhere and generally unpleasant noises were made. Turning back to the fake Jimbo, Ebris' expression began to harden like aged granite at the sight of his advance with the rathin' spear.

"You..."

"Imma gonna rathin' kill you."

Ho-lee grod. Grod just got rathin' serious. Ebris was the type to rage and go crazy and all that piss, but saying outright he was gonna kill the rathin' sumbitch? That was pretty rathin' scary right there. The old sumbitch was really, really mad that the Jimbo who he had expected to show up never did, and it seemed this Jimbo was gonna pay the rathin' price. Slowly, but with his ever-wide strides, Ebris began to lope his way towards the armored Jimbo. During this, Ebris' left arm went up and above his head, reaching for the large, circular bulge that was hidden under his tux, while his right was angled out at his side, elbow pointing with its sledgefist chambered.

His left paw then gripped the bulge rathin' tight and began to pull up.

Ksssshhhhhht

Katie loved men in armor, so while Ebris was pissing and moaning about that being the wrong Jimbo she was giving the armored man a once over. She knew Ebris was going to have his hands full with this one.

Would she wish Ebris good luck with that fight? Hell no. She hoped that big ape got his a kicked, and he definitely didn't need to tell her to get her a out of the pit.

As she strolled on up to the gate, Katie brought her finger towards her Fighter. Oh lawdy, she was itching to press it.

Itching and twitching. There might even be a vein popping in her forehead. It was that hard to control.

Ebris would deserve it, too. She should put him flat on his back with a huge a** zap that would knock out an elephant. Now that she really wanted to see, but she was going to give that man in armor a chance to knock the HUEG GAI down.

Dropping her hands to her side, she strolled through the gate and went up the steps to find a seat on the balcony.

There was a huge slab of metal sitting up there, and it was calling her name.

Katie had just gotten seated when James came up the stairs, lugging that case around like it held a nuclear device inside. What exactly was in that case? It looked damn heavy for him.

themightyjello Wrote:

"As much as I'd rather not get in the way of love..." he said as he came up behind the Amazon; setting the case down beside him on the stone with a loud and heavy grinding thud that betrayed just how heavy the case really was, "I gave you fair warning about how dangerous your new sex toy is."

She didn't even know that the man in armor was Tzenidaar, so what James would say to her when he reached the top of the stairs left her with a dumbstruck look on her face.

"What the ******** are you talking about, James? I thought we had this discussion last night. Why are you bringing it up now?"

Kael must have really hit James hard, knocked a couple rocks loose in that thick skull of his. Honestly, she thought James had fallen off of his rocker.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Katie."

"James."

She was still lost.

themightyjello Wrote:

"If you ******** this up you're going to wake up tomorrow missing something. Are we clear on that?"

"If I wake up and find anything missing tomorrow I will chop your d**k off, James. Are we clear on that?"

Katie did not like to be threatened, even if it was idle, but she was taking the threat seriously, as should he take hers. Her team was doing a wonderful job at pissing her off, but she still managed to give James that pleasant smile in return, even if she was seething deep inside.

Well, it really wasnt very surprising that Ebris was gonna come right on forward as well to go meet him on the field. 'Cause only pansies stand back and wait for action to come their way. Not to mention this seemed kinda familiar.

And Tzenidaar underneath those metal plates knew this real well. It was just his style to go right up and get in someone's grill.

A makeshift shield was produced, and he took a quick glance at it on the giant hobo's left arm. But what was more important was that right, all wound back to throw a punch. Good. His own weapon was stretched out to his own right side. It was time for a pass.

His steps got wider as his weight shifted more from one foot to the next, almost swaying left and right in the final steps of his advance.

What should be noted that his pudao was nowhere near as large as a regular one should be. However, what it length in size, was made up with in weight. The thing was like a heavy machete on a three foot long stick.

So then they got into atack range. And yes, Tzenidaar did have a reach advantage with his weapon, but that alone wasnt the thing to look out for. The final steps where he began to sway his body might just look like another small movement, but upon closer inspection, he seemed to twist his torso at the waist to wards his right as his arms pulled further back. And when he got close, it was the perfect time to swing away, having the weapon already in position.

His left foot stretched out and he torqued his body to his left, pulling the lower portion of the weapon's shaft back as his right swung forward, bringing the heavy blade around behind both his strength and the forward momentum of the jog being transferred into his arms from his left foot jutting out.

A pudao was a weapon designed for infantry to hack off the legs of a trampling warhorse. And the eliminator went right for Ebris' legs. Or well, right leg to be exact, since it was all stepping forward presenting itself as a target. He made sure to aim low, swinging the hacking blade horizontally at the ******** thigh. If it went in and cleaved all the way through the femur, good, but his main target was just to shred the quadricep and tear his muscles so he wouldnt be able to move so well.

Meanwhile, as for the right fist swinging in real fast, while tipping forward in his downward swing, he squared his neck and skull up real good, it was time to absorb a direct hit. However, as some may know, the chimera's neck was pretty damn thick. One reason being the way he headbutt's people; less of a swinging motion, more of a ramming motion, like a ram or deer. That fist may be coming in towards his face, but right between his eyes, there was that large jutting piece of metal, like a horn, and he was going to ram that right into Ebris' swinging wrist just before his hand got close to the hunk of metal over his head.

Well, rath. This grod ain't good.

At a distance, Ebris hadn't been able to rathin' appreciate the true nature of the stabbin' stick the Fake Jimbo was poising with. As he had charged in, though, it became all the more rathin' clear that it wasn't a Throne-damned spear but more along the lines of a fancy-pants looking meat cleaver that was glued to the end of a grodpacked stick. That kinda grod was the stuff that tended to get Ebris a bit cautious - cautious for Ebris, anyway. A typical sword chop could be dealt with pretty rathin' easily, but a big a** chopper being chopped by a pretty hefty sumbitch meant that grod was gonna come off or get mauled like no one's rathin' business.

Rath, Ebris used a choppan weapon himself. He'd gladly show the Fake Jimbo how much more rathin' awesome it was than his choppan stick, but that'd have to wait. There was sledgefisting to do, as well as dealing with the Throne-damned weapon Fake Jimbo was waving around.

Due to the nature of Ebris' haymaker, his ride side done got itself outta the way of his manhole cover's defensive angle. With his right stepped out and extended, it'd take him to step in with his left to really block any grod that came from the sumbitch's right, and there was a grodstorm coming his way in the form of a downward, horizontal chop to his extended right knee/thigh. The scum had been keeping the corners of his eyes glued to the Throne-damned stick, so when it started coming down, there was only so much he could do - and that was extend his left arm up and forward. Like stated, he wasn't in any position to check or fully deflect the attack, but the sewer lid was pretty damn HUEG - 3' in diameter. The short, quick thrust allowed the makeshift shield to briefly smack into the weapon's shaft as it came hacking down.

And what did this accomplish?

KASHNNK

It served to rathin' chop off half of his Throne-damned toes.

Ayup. So, while Ebris didn't have a horrifically mauled and nigh-entirely crippled right leg, the old b*****d done got most of his piggly wigglies lopped off. By the nature of how the attack was done (crossing over), the chop was at an angle when it came down, so when it got nudged forward a wee rathin' bit, it came down on the top end of his booted foot at the same angle. So, when it bit down into the boot, it cut off a bit less than half of the middle toe, all of the second to last toe and that and a bit of the actual foot towards the end. While the boot had a thick, steel cap at the end, it wasn't enough to save the bit of foot, which would slow him down in his movements and make it somewhat awkward to do balancing grod. The little stumps where his toes once were were now spurting blood all over the rathin' place like iddy-biddy broken beer taps.

Oh, and the giant hobo was bellowing like a cross between a rabid bear and a Titan's Warhorn from the pain and ANGR. Pretty rathin' unnerving.

It was all this rathin' pain and pissed-off'ness that further made Ebris' desire to kill the sumbitch all the greater. To do this, the old b*****d was gonna show him why he considered shields to not be a defensive tool, but an offensive one.

BUT FIRST...

WHUNK

Sledgefist met Fake Jimbo helmeted skull, though only partially. Synthflesh was torn as the armored f*****t's head came jutting up, carrying the horn on it up with it. The horn ramming into the underside of Ebris' wrist was only a flesh wound, as the protrusion only served to deflect the fist off to the side a slight bit when it hit one of the more solid pieces of plasteel within the fake limb. Momentum was only slightly halted and thus the big, beefy fist collided with the helmet at near full force. Regardless of whether or not the fairly massive blow caused the metal helmet to crumple on the spot (as it would be pretty rathin' close to be getting hit by a mace/hammer, as much as could be delivered by something human anyway), the force of the blow would jam the head down into the neck and cause the power to go down the spine. Ebris' own synthflesh would be shredded slightly from the sharp bits of metal, but it was barely a tick on the PAINDAR compared to the party that was going on down in his foot. Fake Jimbo faggert was obviously made of tough enough grod to handle it, but that, coupled with the kind of disorientation that'd accompany the blow, would be pretty rathin' bad.

Now...now was the time for returning the favor of having grod chopped offa his body. Ebris was gonna return it by having parts of the sumbitch's body get even more comfy cozy close together.

Sledgefist uncurling after the impact, the paw immediately moved down to tightly grip the horn that so rudely semi-impaled it. While Ebris loved to yank faggots around by their pristine, silly hair to get control over them in a brawl, the horn served well enough - rath, depending on how well the helmet was secured on Fake Jimbo's skull, it'd be even better! After securing a grip, the sumbitch would find his head and upper body being yanked down by the giant hobo's arm. Ebris began to step in with his left at this time as well, twisting his wrist and driving the arm up so that it looked like it was going for an uppercut. However, with that sewer lid in the rathin' way, it'd be pretty hard to do that kinda grod, now wouldn't it?

KLRUNCH

Wrong.

Ahh, how rathin' awesome is the rim of a 50lbs shield being driven up into some poor punk's face, armored or not? Pretty rathin' awesome - at least for the person on the giving end of the attack. The blow was aimed to smash right into the visor of the helmet and keep on going until it met enough resistance to finally stop it, send the Jimbo flying up and back or (if Ebris was really lucky) crunch through his entire skull, though that was pretty rathin' unlikely due to the helmet and the fact that the sumbitch was made of tuff grod. Still, it was the kind of blow that could easily crush bone of any kind and put anyone through a living, smooshed hell, especially when there was a downward force driving the intended smooshed part into the powerful, upwardly-moving crushing force. If the blow did pack enough oomph to send the punk flying or stumbling back, then he'd let go of the horn and let that grod happen.

Ebris' was obviously pretty occupied with ruining Fake Jimbo's day at the time, so he was pretty open to the sumbitch's weapon, though they were both up in each other's grill at this point, and depending on just how close they were, it might prove to be pretty rathin' tricky to get it back into an optimal position. This was especially the case with Ebris' left being driven forward, which was the side that faced Fake Jimbo's right, which was the stabban/choppan arm. Oh, and there was the fact that the sumbitch might be getting his face caved in, but we'd have to wait and see how that grod played through.

Katie was tired of this game that James was playing. She gripped the arm of the seat she was in rather tightly, but restrained herself as she stared down at the pit. If there was a possibility that she might fight next she better hold that anger in check.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Oh," was his answer, leaning against the edge of the balcony so that he could get a good view of their adversary and what condition he was in, "you'll see soon enough."

So, to this, all she would do was grunt or make a 'hmph' type sound. She wasn't even in the mood to answer him.

The fight seemed to step up a notch, which brought Katie up off of her seat. She didn't catch Ebris getting his toes lopped off because James made a better door then a window. She stepped up next to him, nudging her right arm against his shoulder to give her some room against that railing, even though there was TONS of room to her left.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Be careful where you're putting your hands, darlin'. Your new boyfriend is a cannibal after all."

"Can it, James. You seem to be more interested in my boyfriend then the fight at hand. I'm beginning to think you might have a thing for Tzenidaar. It's starting to make me jealous."

And then, nutshot.

"Ouch. That must have hurt."

Even though, she had no idea what it really felt like, so she had absolutely no sympathy pains.

Instead, she would point and laugh at Ebris.

Up close.

In yo grill.

Bustin' chops.

Grod like that. That's where grod should go down. That way, when the blood started splattering every which way, you could get doused in the grod and watch as the lights went dim in the sumbitches you were mauling to death. Ebris always wanted to get up close to do this - rath, even his choice of ranged PEWPEW grod put him at ranges close enough to intermingle with the Jimbos and have a rousing bout of fisticuffs with them. Fist for fist, boot for boot, forehead to forehead - it didn't matter what kinda grod was being thrown around, just so long as grod done got BRUTAL.

But...was there ever a point when grod got a wee bit too close? Ebris Dhifi was done gonna find out.

A satisfied but brutal row of teeth flashed widely at the feeling of 50lbs of low-grade steel being rammed right into the front of Fake Jimbo's skull. There was a resounding crack, though it was more meaty than dry, which suggested a completely pulverized nose instead of a caved-in forehead. Oh well, that grod could happen later. For now, after reaching a specific point of resistance, Ebris' right paw let go of the big a** rhino horn super glued to the faggert's head, which in turn allowed the power of the shield uppercut to send the sumbitch staggering or even flying backward.

This, in essence, pretty much rathin' saved the old b***d. If he had tried to have held on and continued the beatdown, then the unthinkable would have happened. Ebris' assumptions had done made an a outta himself, as Fake Jimbo had the rathin' room to swing the choppy-chop stick around just enough. It wasn't enough to hack deep into a leg or grod, but the rathin' b*****d from rathin' rath hell went for some place that was just squishy enough to not need a rathton of momentum behind the blow to be effective.

Fake Jimbo went for a nutshot. A bladed nutshot.

The entire Colosseum let loose a collective, horrific gasp at the same, exact moment in space and time and rathin' existence. All around the world, men's junk cried out in unequaled terror and shrank into nigh-nonexistence. Others curled into fetal positions and wept themselves into madness. Some simply died outright. Fake Jimbo done went did something BAD.

And it didn't matter how stunned he might have been from the shield bash, or how damaged. It didn't matter if he fell to the ground, dazed and confused and completely open.

Why?

Because Ebris Dhifi was now running around like a madman - chopped foot be damned - clutching his babies and making the most Throne-awful noises you could imagine. I mean, there wasn't even any decipherable swearing; sure, bits of RAAAATHOHPISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS were picked up in brief, almost instant moments, but for the most part, it was just one, constant belching forth of one insane, pain-filled noise unlike any other.

Now, this was probably a bit of an overreaction, as Ebris only got the head of his d**k bisected by the blade, as the shield had knocked the sumbitch back enough to avoid getting the full treatment. Still, the pain was just so damn big that Ebris pretty much swore that his ball juice was leaking out all over the sand and that just was not too good at all.

So, until the bounty scum got a hold on himself and the pain and realized "Hey, I can still fap after a few several dozen surgeries", he'd be running around like a crazy rather and probably smashing his fists and head against the side of the arena wall if he ever got that close, as any other kind of pain that helped blot out his current one would be a rathin' BLESSING.

PAIN.

PAIN.

OHRATHPAIN

PAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-

JIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMM-BOOOOOOOOOOOOO Wrote:

"Lololololol, CA$H MONIEZ. How'd you like that ya ********>

And that did it. That rathin' did it.

ANGR and RAEG overcame the flaring pain in his massive, now-leaking loins. He knew that rathin' voice. He knew that rathin' voice. He knew it all too rathin' well. He knew it from a Throne-damned mudhole that was once known as Frostchild. He knew it from the BRAWLANZ that happened in grodpacked warehouses modified to be rave clubs. He knew it from RATHIN' GOATSICK GETTING RATHED UP THE a** BY ITS OWNER.

Slowly, achingly, Ebris neck began to turn to face the noise in stuttered motions, each one accompanied with a large, resounding crack. Molars ground together like continental shifts and throbbing veins looked like they were about to detonate. Blue and pink spheres of HAET engaged a lock-on with the "lolololololol'ing" form of that Jimbo.

Mutie Jimbo. Almost as hated, if not moreso, than Big Boy Cole Jimbo and the Jimbo he done wanted to meet again and maim during this rathin' match.

The indecipherable roars of pain and rage were silenced, and the GROD TALKIN' began.

"YOU RATHIN' SUMBITCH - MUTIE, BUTCH-RATHIN', COCKGOBBLING JIMBOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

And the thudding began once again. Of course, it was pretty rathin' awkward for someone missing part of his right foot and leaking grod from split parts in his pants, but it was still a surprising amount of thudding, and it was as loud as ever. Arms both poised out slightly, angled at the elbows (putting the manhole cover in a strategeriffic position that covered a good portion of the old b*****d's left side). As Ebris charged in, grinning so wide and insane-like that slobber flew through the air as he freight train'd his way towards the charging Jimbo.

The crowd was raging once again. Forgotten was the pain of sliced loins and the fact that blood was to be spilled once again sent them into a frenzy of massed motion. They wanted carnage, and Throne-damned they'd get it. During it all, it'd be pretty rathin' hard to notice a slight, metallic "clack" noise issuing from Ebris' right forearm.

"Hey now, dont get too excited to see me. You'll bleed too much." Yes, he was taunting him with that cut he made to the man's d**k. And for those of you who are too stupid to know what he meant by that, well, when guys get hard, its 'cause a good deal of the blood in the body is sent to that organ.

So once again, the bounty hunter and the eliminator went charging forward again to close whatever distance had seperated them while Ebris was running around in pain. And once again, Tzenidaar took the opportunity to attack first. 'Cause he was all up for first strikes.

Both arms swung to his right as his right hand loosened the grip, letting his left push the haft all the way up through his fingers until both hands gripped the butt end of the weapon over the shoulder like a really long baseball bat.

Kind of a really obvious attack to telegraph it as such, right? He had the range advantage with the near five foot long weapon on top of the length of his arms right?

Well, too bad he always did the most random and stupid things possible.

Before they were even in range for at attack, he'd just go straight ahead and stick his left foot out in font of himself, pivot on it, and hurl the weapon right at Ebris' legs, down low at the shin and ankles, letting it whip around horizontally. Maybe the scumbag was big enough to just mow through the oaken shaft if it had been higher, but he aimed low for the expressed purpose of tripping up the legs at the ankles mid-step, throwing off the shift in balance while moving to make the big man fall face first into the dirt. And if the blade hit first rather than the stick part, then even better.

And upon exit of his throw? He just finished turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees and just went on ahead charging forward.

Pocket Gal Wrote:

"TZEN! I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR a**!"

"Oh baby, I'll get to you later." There was no stop to the s**t talk. Never was, never will be. And it pissed the hell out of people, so he'd continue to do it.

CLANK

CLANK

CLANK

Once again was met with

THUD

THUD

ginger THUD

Yeah, kinda hard to go at it at rathin' full speed when your manly bits were now in two different parts up towards the end of it. That, and the foot. That was rathin' worse, in a way, as every stomp he made got all sorts of sand and grod grinding up into the exposed, brutalized meat and making equally-sized white grains flicker across his vision from the pain of it all - that, and the pressure being exerted on it with each stomp. While blood trickled out of the cut seam in Ebris' jeans, the relative snugness of the rest of the thing kept his maimed manworks from jostling around too much and making that grod more worse than it already was.

But, despite that grod, he was still going at a pretty rathin' unnerving pace, especially with those two kinda wounds on his body. It'd have been enough to carry them both into a crash course once again.

Until Mutie Jimbo done threw his weapon away and at him.

And how did Ebris respond in kind?

He hurled something back.

The ground seemed to quake just a tad bit more as the scum's left arm swung forward, let go of the strap to his sewer lid and let it thud into the ground at a high-speed roll. The horse choppa that was flying low to chop at Ebris' legs? Crushed beneath the rampaging path of the manhole cover. As the shaft was wooden, the thing would probably have been snapped in half entirely. Now, the shield would only go so far before veering off, do some huckin' and jivin' and then fall down. However, due to the fact that both HUEG sumbitches were charging at each other, so the distance between them wasn't a whole lot when the lid was thrown.

So, it meant that Mutie Jimbo was facing a really rathin' good chance of getting done crushed by a 50lbs piece of rampaging metal.

Ever see what happens when a sumbitch is hit by a semi-struck tire? Bad, bad grod, and what could happen to a punk if hit by the spinning manhole cover could be rathin' similar. The lid wasn't nearly as heavy and wasn't going as fast, but the rim it had was pretty rathin' thin in comparison to a tire, so if it hit, all the force would be crushing into the Jimbo through that small area. It'd make for some serious, SRS damage, armor or not.

And what was Ebris doing during this? Continuing to charge right up behind it. Despite the fact that the mutie sumbitch faggert might have more tricks up that armored sleeve of his.

Katie growled angrily. She couldn't believe this s**t. Yeah, she thought Tzenidaar was fighting, but just on another team, so the odds of going up against him weren't that high. Not to mention that he never told her he was an Eliminator.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Yeah. I've totally got a thing for Tzenidaar. Something about obnoxious, inhuman cannibals just gets me off. How 'bout you?"

"Cannibal?"

That never occurred to Katie that the chimera was a cannibal. That would explain why he was always sniffing her, especially when blood was involved. Her turquoise eyes turned towards the pit. There was a lot of hurt and anger in them. Hurt and anger was not a good mixture for her. Things would get brutal if she got her chance in there.

Kraun Wrote:

"Oh baby, I'll get to you later."

"Oh, you don't know how close that is."

The ghetto blaster turned on behind the throne. The slab of metal was now gone, and it was in the hands of Tzenidaar, which was something she hadn't expected. She was angry right now, very angry.

She strolled over to the ghetto blaster and started pushing buttons roughly on it. The music suddenly changed..

Katie didn't want to hear what James had to say at the present time. She was brewing. She wanted to kill and maim something. This ghetto blaster was about to be the brunt of her anger.

themightyjello Wrote:

"It's not impossible that you two could have a somewhat normal relationship,"

"Yeah, yeah. I get the point you're trying to convey."

themightyjello Wrote:

"But that chimera is not a normal person by any standards and you need to be careful around-"

He paused at the end of that. Her eyes followed his to where the slab of metal had been.

"What is it?"

And then, the unthinkable happened.

BEEP!<

"JAMES! What the ********?!"

Her face couldn't be filled with anymore rage. It was boiling red, her cheeks, neck, everything. She was going to kill someone.

themightyjello Wrote:

"WELL!" James suddenly shouted, using his hand on her shoulder to pull her up and then placing his other hand on her hip to turn her back around and give her a little push. "They always say that the best way to work out problems in a relationship is to be honest with each other so-"

"You son of a b***h."

He had turned her towards the pit, and she watched Ebris go down with a HUEG zap. Hey, that was slightly satisfactory. It gave her a small chill of happiness to see him go down.

A slap came upon the center of her back, shoving her down the stairs and towards the pit.

themightyjello Wrote:

"-get out there and let him know how you feel."

"When I'm done. I'm going to show you how I feel about you right now."

So, Katie stepped down the stairs and out the gate to the sound of...

You know you wanna make me shout!

Indeed. She was going to do a lot of shouting for the next week.

Her lips pursed tightly, eyes full of hatred. The gate closed behind her. She reached back to pull her Obsidian blade free. With a two handed grasp, she gripped the sword tightly.

The tip of the sixty-two inch sword came down to point at the ground near her right ankle. Her left shoulder was slightly forward.

And she charged towards the chimera.

From somewhere in the crowd--

"EBRIS IZ DED."

Katie's eyes were narrowed. Her mouth was set in a grim line.

"Son of a b***h."

She was still grumbling under her breath as she charged. The chimera now charging towards her.

"I'm going to KILL YOU!"

Didn't James say it was time for them to talk? Oh yeah, Katie was about to do a lot of smack talking. She was that pissed off at Tzenidaar.

There was a lot of thump, thump, thumping, and it wasn't the music. It was the sound of Katie's feet hitting the packed ground as she charged the chimera.

She waited to make a move though, until the two were within five feet of one another, blades distance. Seeing as their swords were both about the same length, except Katie had two inches on his. She, also, had some long arms, which came with the height though, so she had some extra length their too.

Her left foot hit forward as that distance was near, pivoting on the sand, while her right foot swung out farther to her back right. It would bring her around to face the chimera's right side, rather then going in to charge head on. And seeing as her sword was down towards her right foot, left shoulder forward it would be easy to swing the blade up, which happened as she pivoted.

Her sword would probably come up at that point to slice in towards the chimera's neck, aiming for anything that was slightly exposed.

[Edit]

Katie didn't have a way of fighting. She just went out with her sword, fist, anything she could swing that would hurt. As long as it got the job done. However, there wasn't a whole lot of things to use in the pit, and she knew the chimera was a smart fighter. He wasn't going to be stupid about moves she decided to make.

Her blade collided with his cleaver. The metals scraped against one another, but she was doing her best push back as they collided, trying to keep her blade up, but then she just let the blade down to her left side, only clasping it with one hand as she tried to step back at the same time, bringing her right foot back and her left to lead.

His blade hit the right side of her head, knocking her off balance a moment and brought her right foot back farther as she caught her balance. There was a lot of drumming and ringing in her right ear, but that s**t wouldn't stop her, nor did it knock her down.

Tzenidaar was still within a foot of her reach, having come up into her grill. She brought her right leg up, knee bent, flat of her boot facing the chimera, and brought a huge armored boot towards his upper chest with an upward and out motion.

"AARGH!"

He might have a lot of armor on, but she was still a brute and was using a lot of force and muscle in those legs to try and knock him flat on his a** with that kick, aiming to knock off his center of gravity. And he should know she had a lot of muscles in those thighs.

Oh, the chimera wanted to play this game. Grab her by the hair, which she loved, but not so much when it meant bringing her in for a headbutt. Of course, as he reached out, she was already preparing her own counter. He was too busy grabbing and trying to do the ol' sneeze look.

Her right hand was still empty. Her left hand was holding her sword, completely occupied. So, he might be holding her head, and he might be launching forward to slam his forehead into her upper mouth and nose, but as he sprung forward his chin was met with a meaty fist.

Katie had already pulled her right hand down and swung upwards to deliver a powerful uppercut to the chimera's chin, which would deflect some of the blow into her upper mouth, nose area as it came in, but not all of it. There was still a crunch, but his chin was met with its own thud.

"You want a piece of me, babe? You're going to have to try harder then that!"

[Edit]

With his particular style of headbutt, he had quite the good view of the fist coming in underneath him between their bodied. His right hand which was holding the cleaver let it go, the palm opening up, dropping the weapon to the ground. But he didnt use it to block it or anything, there was no time to.

For someone that liked to talk so much smack, there was one thing essential for the chimera. In fact, it was one of those things which distinguished him pretty well. That metal gorget which rose from his collar and went up to the bottom of his nose was quite useful to stop blows aimed at his neck and chin.

And so, when that fist came flying in, it'd strike just that, metal, even though it was partially bent from the shield bashing earlier which had damaged his helmet. Quite the jarring sensation to his armour, but it stopped any actual damage from being dealt.

Pocket Gal Wrote:

"You want a piece of me, babe? You're going to have to try har--"

Right after the headbutt, his right leg slid forward, between the woman's legs as his body drove forward, using his torso to pin her right arm between them. That right arm that was freed from dropping his weapon swung forward and then back, hooking his hand right behind katie's left leg to pick it up and shift her balance as he ground his forehead into her mouth. Maybe he'd cut some skin over her teeth, maybe not, but in one swift motion, he was going for a takedown while she was busy talking trash. The grinding itself would probably do more damage to him than her, unless he knocked some teeth loose, but damage wasnt the purpose of the action. It was a distraction. A really annoying one at that, to have something ground into someone's face.

Dirty fighting at its best.

And as soon as he felt her weight shift to fall, the grinding of his skull in her face would stop and his left arm that held her head in place pushed back, aiming to drop her headfirst backwards.

"I'll take a piece of you anytime I want, baby."

As the chimera grabbed Katie's left leg and lifted it she brought her right leg up, letting him take hold of all her weight as she latched both legs tightly around his middle, locking her feet around at the ankles.

While her left hand dropped the sword, she brought it around his neck and brought that hand into the base of his hair, grasping tightly onto the back, even while he ground his forehead against her mouth.

Then, she bit down into his hair and scalp at the top of his forehead while he was grounding his forehead into teeth, which would be gashing into his skin, and then she would yank her left hand back that was tangled in his hair. It would probably rip away parts of his hair, but would have been nice to pull some of that scalp too.

And with James yelling out to stop trying to ******** the chimera, this position could only make things look all that much worse.

There would be no falling backwards because she was holding on like a leech, unless the chimera decided he was going to fall back with her.

Katie's head would hit the ground with a thud, which really pissed her off, which was evident by all the cursing she was doing. She was gettin' tired of all this manhandling.

"Sonofa- I'm going to kick your a**!"

Her left hand would fall back to her side on the ground. Her legs would continue to stay locked around the chimera's back, so when she came down he was with her. She'd unlatch her legs and jerk her hips to the right, taking the chimera with her, which would free her arm that had been pinned.

If that was all and well, it would put her on top of him. Her left hand that hand fallen to the ground had dug into the sand, so as she got on top she threw a fistful of sand into his face to blind him for a moment while her right hand came in to start punching the chimera on the mouth, since punching him in the nose wouldn't do s**t with that metal band there.

When Katie let go of the back of his the chimera's head, his body shot back in an instant to an upright position, scooting up on his knees after falling forward, that left hand sliding down from the top of her head to her stomach to keep her down. But when Katie unlatched her legs and jerked her hips to her right side a moment after, he was forced to push it out to his left to stop his body from rolling over.

Once that attempt to get him over was dealt with, his left hand shot right back around, fist clenched, swinging to clock her square in the right side of the jaw.

Maybe she'd be throwing sand into his eyes now rather than later, but who knew.

What probably wouldnt be noticed right away was his right hand, which was all too busy taking apart the buckles holding her armour together at her left side. Maybe she'd notice it, or maybe she didnt. But she should know all too well that he was real good with his hands.

Lololololol, sexual jokes.

But what was the purpose of this? Duh, he was going to tear that armour off for some sexy time. Oh wait, no, that was what he did between the first and second rounds, nevermind. He was gonna tear that armour off to limit her ability to protect herself. 'Cause we all know, Tzenidaar liked to aim to break ribs a lot, since most people seemed to be able to ignore blows to the head.

Blood was leaking out of his nose and from the top of his head, but that didnt wipe that wide grin off his face.

Somewhere in the audience, a black knight spoke up, "'Tis but a mere flesh wound."

When Katie turned to look right at Tzenidaar she'd get a facefull of hand. It wasnt in Tzenidaar to swing punches over and over again, so his left hand didnt go back for another one. Just like before, after he had yanked her face into a headbutt, the chimera's hand had kept its grip in her hair, and now, after he had given her a punch to the face, that hand pressed right on down on the upper portion of her face when he turned back, pressing his weight down on her. His fingers spread out around the top of her head with the heel of his palm pressed down against the bridge of her nose, fingers tightening their grip around the skull, the thumb pressing against the temple to put pressure against the head.

And then her hands shot up at his face. While normally, he could just lean back and push his arm forward, it didnt work too well with someone that was taller than he was, where by being taller, they had longer arms. Sand flew into his eyes even as he twisted his neck around to avoid those prodding fingers of hers that were looking for a handhold on his face, which he was loathe to provide before he leaned his head back to move his eyes and nose out of her reach. Of course, this limited his ability to see, but the gorget protected his neck enough that she wouldnt be able to grab his neck or chin, but she could wrap her fingers around it and pull him back down.

He made this snarling noise as he shook his head and tried to get that sand out of his eyes.

However, there was always something to deal with first. And since Katie had ignored his right hand, she probably wouldnt even see it coming. Well, maybe feel it, but she wuldnt see it with her head being pressed down like that.

After taking apart the buckles on the left side of her armour, his hand shifted to the bottom of the breastplate, pulling and pushing to loosen it up before he jammed up upwards, the collar aimed to smack her underneath the chin or nose.

Meanwhile, his right leg slipped forward, the knee pressing up underneath her left thigh until he got his foot planted, lifting the leg partially into tha air, putting him on a single knee rather than both. Looked like he was about to use those legs to do something.

Couldnt get away in time. That ear got ripped right off the side of his head as he roared with sudden pain as yet another trail of blood began spilling out of his head. Meanwhile, his right hand, after slamming the collar of her breastplate into her face would snap down to her left leg which he had raised up with his leg, sliding the knee under her thigh and butt.

Pocket Gal Wrote:

"Oh, babe, you know how much I like it when you get crazy like this."

"Definately..."

Hell, she even ground her groin against him as he was between her legs, she must have been really turned on. However, it wouldnt really accomplish what was intended since he still had quite the sturdy base at his legs and he had her head in his left hand.

"But we can ******** later." he hissed through clenched teeth.

Speaking of his left hand, it pulled back for just a moment, picking her head up with it before he pressed it right back down real hard, slamming the back of her head against the packed dirt. Hopefully it would stun and daze her for just a second.

Why one second? 'Cause thats all it took for him to make his next move.

His right hand which had her leg pushed it up and to his left side as his left hand pulled away from her head, rolling her over onto her stomach before he pushed off that right foot, swinging his body over and straddling her lower back as his left hand pressed into the back of her head, gripping the base of her skull.

If Katie didnt do anything about this, Tzenidaar was going to start swinging his right fist into the back and side of her head.

Most wrestlers and grapplers should know that giving someone their back was a bad idea and left them vulnerable.

So when Katie started to push up on all fours, Tzenidaar, not wanting to lose the positional advantage clung right onto her back, left arm wrapping around her neck and clenching down to close off her windpipe. He didnt get his right arm in however, so clinching down that chokehold wasnt really possible. His legs however, locked around her front, hips slipping down around her hips as his right hand started tearing at the buckles holding the right side of her armour together.

Soon, the pain was gonna come raining down.

No. The ghetto blaster is almighty. The cassette tape deck opened up and shot a cassette through the fourth wall into this Reach fellow, crushing his balls with an awesome totally metal guitar riff.

Well, the choke was stopped, but he wasnt planning on getting it in completely anyway. It was a distraction.

As the last of the buckles tore off and Katie stood up, Tzenidaar's right hand went up, pressing against her tricep before the full swing of the elbow could be completed while his left grabbed at the leather straps holding the armour together at her shoulders, right shoulder to be exact, since he had his arm slung across her neck, and pulled back, pulling it over head head to restrict any vision she had for the moment.

She pressed down against his legs, but he kept his ankles locked together as he tried to tighten the hold against her pushing. It would appear that she may have figured out that he was trying to clamp down on her torso and squeeze the air out of her body once again, especially now that her armoured top was gone.

If Katie was standing up straight, it'd be unlikely that she'd be able to stay standing for long with the two hundred and ninety three pound chimera on her back, and that wasnt counting what his armour weighed. So unless she was hunched forward with a wide footing, she'd probably fall right backwards on top of him. But he still had his thick and sturdy armour on, which would absorb much of the impact and wouldnt drive the air out of his lungs.

What the ******** was this? A grappling match?

Katie was PISSED. PISSSSSSED.

And then the chimera would go yanking her armor up, restricting her vision. This was turning into a porno. Tzenidaar wanted to ******** so badly that he was stripping her of her clothing.

"I thought we were going to wait!"

And then she went stumbling backwards a few feet before falling, landing on the chimera with a thud. At least she managed to keep her chin dropped, so he didn't try to go choking her again.

Down from this position, she yelled up at James.

"WHY DON'T YOU COME DOWN HERE?! I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU DO A BETTER JOB OF TAKING IT IN THE a**!"

God damn, she couldn't get this leech off of her.

One good thing did happen. They had stumbled back in the other direction, which placed her next to a cold piece of metal. Her sword. Her hand slid to the hilt and clasped around it, bringing it towards her middle.

She raised the sword then brought both of her hands onto the blade, not caring if the blade sliced them to pieces as she gripped it tightly and slammed it back and down, over her right shoulder using the pommel of the hilt to slam into Tzenidaar's face, over and over.

And blood slid freely down her hands as she tried her best to loosen the chimera's hold on her.

Well, that wasn't what Katie had expected.

The pommel kept missing the chimera's face, but that didn't stop her from driving it back to his face, until....she felt a sharp pain into her right side. For a moment all she saw was flashes of white while her pupils dilated then the world started to turn red around her with all the anger she was feeling.

Oh, she loved it when the chimera penetrated her, no doubt, but..

"Not that kind of penetration."

Her sword was back towards her middle, still clasping it, maybe even more tightly as her body was racked with the pain of being stabbed. The pain was horrible. She started to sweat as her body went to try and push the pain aside, doing it's best to get its adrenaline kicking. Adrenaline was that one thing that was a miracle when a human could lift a car to save someone pinned beneath it, but Katie was an Amazon.

Her hands still gripped her sword tightly and she brought it back over her right shoulder, aiming to hit the chimera in the face again. Her hands covered in blood as she hoped a smash into the face would land and throw the chimera off.

All the blood was sliding down the sword and hilt, splattering drops against Tzenidaar's face.

Pocket Gal Wrote:

"WHY DON'T YOU COME DOWN HERE?!"

'Oh, I'll come down there alright.. Just you wait, woman. I'll come down there.'

Mumbling to himself under his breath James flipped open the steel case and grabbed onto a black object inside with one hand. with the edge of it in hand he stood up and pulled the object out of the case, which unfolded into... a coat.

Whatever secrets might have been contained within that steel case it seemed that they were all a bluff after all, because the only thing inside of it had apparently been the same black overcoat that he had always worn - with the notable exception that the black coat in the case was behaving oddly as he held it for being 'just an ordinary coat', and if it were ordinary that wouldn't explain why the case he had carried weighed over seventy pounds.

No, in fact this coat was far from ordinary in any way other than making a cool cat as stylish as he is practical. It was something that could have been called 'anti-meta wear' if such a thing existed... and Tzenidaar was the epitome of every meta the man had ever met. There would be no greater challenge for the Armageddon Coat than a true freak like that in all his messed-up glory. As James slipped his arms into the sleeves and felt the nearly sixty pounds worth of reinforced fashion sense weigh down on his shoulders he let out a small sigh... wishing the tournament staff wouldn't have restricted his weapons.

"Oh yeah. I'm comin' down there."

People like Tzenidaar were the reason he carried a gun.

"Ladies and gentlemen, men and monsters -"

Taking the rose from his mouth he pinned it to the lapel of the overcoat where it had been on his tuxedo jacket; then reached for the hat sitting on Caesar's throne and flipped it up onto his head once again. One cannot be a truly cool cat without a truly cool hat.

" - I think we've all had just about enough of this foreplay."

BEEP <

With that declaration under his belt, James activated his FIGHTER. Oh, don't worry Katie... it'll only hurt for a minute. Though with the way the two of them were dry-humping each other with metal plates the electric shock and subsequent force-field activation likely wouldn't be very comfortable for the chimera either.

His stylish new 'armor' only dealt with the problem of how to keep the chimera from tearing him apart, though. It did nothing to solve the problem of the creature's own armoring, which had been serving him pretty well up until this point. That's where the surprises in his little box came out to play.

Taking one in each hand James kicked the empty case into the corner and headed down the stairs into the Coliseum pit. Tzenidaar had a pretty impressive suit of armor there but when all was said and done metal plates were metal plates... but in James' corner he had two very willing allies: Thing 1 and Thing 2.

In his right hand James had his mitts on a pretty ferocious looking wrecking bar; the kind of thing that was used to tear st out of walls, bust up concrete, and pry open mangled messes of steel like a car wreck or an armored chimera. In his left hand was a black and yellow plastic hunk of torque known as a cordless power drill - sporting an eight-inch long 1/4 inch diameter cobalt twist bit; the kind of thing you use to put a hole in a block of steel, and pretty ******' much anything else.

"You done yet?" he'd ask the Eliminator as he paced out into the pit, getting more dust on his expensive shoes.

"...or should I wait while you two finish your date?"

He rolled her over and then bzzzt.

The electric current that shot through her body went into the knife as well, shooting into his arm as his fingers instinctively let the weapon go. The arm felt numb, and he shook it around a bit, trying to get the feeling back in as the man stepped into the pit, paramedics rushing in to get the second body out of the pit just like the first. But before that, he wanted his knife back, pulling it out of the woman's body and slipping it back into his 'sleeve', or rather, underneath the sheet of metal.

Third round already?

His hand went to his head, swiping the blood from his jutting brows so that it wouldnt leak into his field of vision.

"We just finished."

And then he went straight for a charge at the man. Except he went and picked up Katie's huge sword first, she certainly wouldnt be needing it for the time being, dragging it along his left side in both hands as he closed the distance.

Unless James moved, once he was twelve feet away from the man, the chimera's right foot planted forward and his arms snapped forward, hurling the blade right at Mr Black from close range, aimed at his gut.

Ooo, armour. A most excellent.

Anyway, Tzenidaar did exactly just that, charge right on ahead. The whole purpose of throwing things like mad as if he had tourettes was to distract people and keep them busy while he closed ths distance. And hurling the weapon at such a close range pretty much ensured that by the time people were reacting to it, he was already up real close.

Smart move on James part to swing at him since he knew he was gonna come rushing in, but it wasnt so smart to take his eyes off of him to actually mark the target before attacking.

The chimera always rushed in hunched forward, it was something he always did. Surely James had taken this into account as well and modified his swing accordingly. However, unlike with Ebris or Katie, who was stronger than the chimera, James wasnt as big and he'd be met full force with a charge rather than any tricky actions.

Tzenidaar's left hand flew up, pressing against James' elbow as it came down overhead with the chopping motion to halt it mid swing as he drove his body forward non-stop, ramming his right shoulder into the man's exposed right side, though the armoured coat would absorb much of the impact. His right arm though went low, real low, between the man's legs and sweeping back at the crook of his left leg to take away his foothold and just knock him over with the force of his charge while his left hand gripped at the cloth of his jacket, pulling his arm out to the side.

He didnt just knock off his hat. He went and smeared some blood on his coat while he was at it, since ramming his shoulder into the man put his face pretty close to him while he was at it. And it was a convenient way to clean some of that blood away.

Originally, Tzenidaar was going to try and scoot his left leg onto Jame's arm to pin it down after stretching it out and free up that left hand. But instead, James had decided to lock them together, twisting his own arm in around it and jamming that crowbar into he way. He wasnt going for a headbutt, those were done from a standing position since he had to use his legs to throw his body forward like a battering ram.

His right arm however was no so easy to pin down. The sweep being initiated to simply knock his balance off, it would retract while balance was taken off of that leg and all of James' weight shifted to his right leg. So when they fell, he was all over him. Kneeling on his left knee, since he wasnt going to be pinning arms with it, his right leg stepped over James' right thigh between his legs. Similar to a one knee stance again, only he pushed the knee of his left leg into the other man's side.

Meanwhile, as for his right hand, well, It didnt pull all that far back while Jame's was falling. In fact, it went straight for the closest vital point to the leg. His arm was already between them, so it wasnt hard to figure out what he was grabbing at; the boys.

At this moment in time, some kid at home was playing with those Heaven or Hell action figures; Tzenidaar, now with kung-fu grip.

And well, he'd be squeezing quite hard on the man's testicles. Something like that produces a debilitating amount of pain didnt it? Haha! Dirty fighting.

themightyjello Wrote:

So without further adieu... it was hammer drill time.

themightyjello Wrote:

"Dance! I said dance you illiterate ********>

"Shut the ******** up before I rape you."

Lololololol, well what did it look like he was doing anyway?

themightyjello Wrote:

He felt the need to clarify the point as the electric motor in his left hand started whirring and he rammed the spinning bit of the drill at an angle into Tzenidaar's left pauldron. Apparently the chimera had decided that James was prettier than his girlfriend which, while flattering, wasn't at all what he had intended. Perhaps having a hole bored through one of his favorite ball-and-socket joints would remind the beast that a lady doesn't give it up on the first date.

"Hey, that tickles."

He felt the drill bit grind into the armour, which he really didnt give any thought to untill it bore through the steel and went straight into his arm with a viscous... I dont even know how to describe the sound.

"FFFFFFFAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWK" He roared as pain shot through his left arm, the rotating drill digging into bone and sending a horrible grinding feeling through the bones as his fist clenched instinctively, not wanting to let the man escape while spurts of blood oozed out of the hole.

His lips peeled back in a sneer as that right eye of his went from a nice green colour to bring red. I think James just pissed him off. And that would be where his right arm began pulling at the man's genitaila with a deathgrip, as if he was going to rip it right off and tear his pants as well.

(( Note, already brought up but just to clarify: I mistyped 'left' in place of 'right'. Rolling with it. ))

Kraun Wrote:

That was a nice meaty sound it made once the sparks stopped flying and the drill bit cut in past the steel pauldron. The whirring edge of the bit cut the shoulder to ribbons... literally. Twirly little twisting ribbons of steel, flesh, bone, and a hefty portion of bubbling and spraying blood that gushed out of the hole and all over the both of them.

""

James was feeling more than a little violated right now when Tzenidaar went after the boys. It didn't make him feel happy, since he wasn't a b***h in heat like the amazon seemed to be whenever some violent cannibal wanted to bust a nut on her; no, rather than that it made him want to get this touchy-feely perv the hell off of him. Though first thing was first...

"That's gonna leave a STAIN!"

Ripping at his right arm, the man attempted to tear his sleeve out of the gauntlet that was holding it and instead slam the wedge end of the crowbar fiercely into the chimera's right elbow joint. Steel be damned, it might prevent the axe-like edge of the wrecking bar from tearing a chunk of flesh out but it would tear a ******** hole in the thing the size of Texas.

"Now get..."

The ball of his foot dug in against the chimera's midsection.

"The ********..."

He delivered a sudden kick with his other leg against the creature's side.

"OFF!"

With a combined shove from both legs James threw Tzenidaar off of him and to the side. The chimera had taken him to the ground but there was nothing that was pinning him there except the creature's own weight; once that was off of him James would be free to get back on his feet and tear the s**t out of this grabby-hands son of a dog.

His boys? Black and blue but no worse for wear than a couple hours with a Taiwanese hooker. Tzenidaar could put pressure on them and could squeeze all he liked but it would have been hard as hell for him to get a firm grip through a pair of decently fitting pants. There wasn't enough slack in the fabric for him to get a good fistful and it would pop right out from between his fingers when the chimera was shoved off.

Kraun Wrote:

a grenade going off between

What a bloody ********' mess that was.

No seriously, that s**t was everywhere.

Tzenidaar blew his own arm off and sent shrapnel flying everywhere... and sent himself everywhere... bits and pieces of the chimera's arm and armor flying every which way and causing the creature to go flying as well in the opposite direction. That s**t was just ugly as sin, seeing his bleeding stump waving around like that.

Well, at least the chimera was now completely disarmed... A giant hole bored straight through one arm and the other one torn off at the elbow. He wasn't going to be swinging around that meat cleaver of his any time soon with no functional arms.

It is common knowledge that the average anime character's body contains between 13 and 25 gallons of blood. James had nowhere near this much, because he was not, in fact, an anime character. However, with the distance and coverage that the grenade managed to achieve the amount that he did have managed a pretty deceptive illusion in which it seemed to cover a lot more area than it should have. Blame a good spatter pattern on that.

Needless to say, a grenade did exactly what it should have done in that situation: it ripped him the ******** open. Clothing? Not a chance. Skin? What a joke? Muscle and organs? Just getting in the way. That 'grenade' that Tzenidaar had decided to play with had shredded everything from his chest to his knees as if he'd just been attacked by a bear.

He was dead.

He was dead.

He just didn't know it yet, laying there with a ringing in his ears that wouldn't go away.

Somehow he managed to lift his head enough to look down and saw things that he shouldn't have been able to see. Things that he never even wanted to know what they looked like. He knew that people couldn't survive that... not even with magic and science working hand in hand like fags prancing through a jolly field of ******** daisies he knew that people couldn't survive that.

So why... why the hell was it taking so long?

Was it that he hadn't bled enough? Were his organs still barely holding on and refusing to shut down even though it was hopeless? What the hell was it that was keeping him in this hell while the feeling slowly began to seep back in and attack his senses all at once? Why the hell wouldn't he just... die...?

"...do not...

Mumbling under his breath, James' right hand let the crowbar slip out of it and it slowly went for his neck; fingers wrapping around something small, metallic, and hot from proximity to his body. In his hand he had a coin-sized pendant tied to a chain... which he violently tore off from his neck and threw into the dirt.

"DO NOT ******** WITH ME!"

This was HIS fault, wasn't it? It had to be. There was nobody else who it could have been. That good for nothing piece of s**t god was trying to meddle in his death just like he'd meddled with his life! James had no idea why the hell that woman's god wanted him alive but he was sure of it... 100% sure that HE was the one responsible for this.

Laying on his back covered in blood and bits of shredded flesh, staring blankly up at the sun hiding behind the clouds in the sky he couldn't think about anything else right now... When a person dies their life was supposed to flash before their eyes but right now the only thing that James could think of was how much he regretted not slugging that son of a cosmos square in the ******** jaw when he had the chance.

"...geh.... heh.... heh..."

It sounded wet when he laughed... his body was leaking, after all. He could feel it welling up in his mouth far worse than it ever had before when he had been stabbed, or shot, or beaten within an inch of his life. No, this was far, far worse than that because it went far beyond an inch of his life.

He was dead... or at least he should have been.

Yet for some reason this was all just so damn funny.

For now nothing else seemed to matter. The only thing that mattered was how much hatred he had managed to hold onto. Hatred for Tzenidaar... hatred for Falis... he even thought about how much he hated that woman right now for all the s**t that she had put him through... and he felt like sharing it.

He could not sit up. He did not have the muscles left to do something like that. But he could prop himself up somewhat on his elbow, despite the agony that it caused. He could pick up his head and stare with cold hatred at the chimera as blood ran down his chin. He could still move... barely.

"...leaving... so... soon..."

Throwing his right arm out James grabbed the creature by the neck - not with his hand, they weren't even nearly close enough for that - he shot out a barely visible 'arm' of energy that crossed the distance between the two of them in an instant and grabbed onto the chimera by his neck with a vice-like squeeze... and he pulled.

He couldn't move anymore, so he would make the chimera come to him.

He'd pull the creature down so they were face to face once again and they would have a nice... little... chat about how all this conflict was making him feel.

[ 0 / 150 > 15/135 > 5/135 ]

Quote: Aura Reach: By stretching out an 'arm' of aura physical objects can be interacted with. If used to grasp, lift, or manipulate an object it is done with roughly the strength of a human arm and hand but lacks fine motor control. Rather than this, the 'arm' can be used as a slam attack with strength and hardness roughly equal to a 50 lb sandbag being thrown at the target. The strength and hardness can be increased incrementally with simultaneous applications of more 'arms'.

Due to the strain of applying force to physical objects in this way, each use of Aura Reach burns 10 power points.

Quote: Immortal: Due to having been cursed by an Economancer, James is unable to die. He takes and recovers from damage as normal and this curse offers him no benefit other than that he is unable to be killed. Because he has never received a fatal wound, James is completely unaware of this curse.

He pulled the chimera in with as much control over that woo-woo s**t as he could muster. He didn't understand how it worked, he was outright terrible at it, and it had taken him nearly two years to manage this one move... but right now it all felt worth it.

Because he was going to ******** that thing up.

James pulled back his arm to drag the creature closer to him; shortening the length of the phantom limb that was latched onto its neck as he did so until he had nowhere left to pull his arm back to. His fingers dug into the dirt behind him and pushed, trying to keep himself from falling back down as he pulled the chimera towards him with nothing but grim determination.

It wasn't over yet. He couldn't let it end just yet. The ******** had to pay.

Kraun Wrote:

Before he lost consciousness though, he'd get up real close and at least spit some blood on the guy's face.

"********."

:{

With a mouthful of blood and spit James shot it right back in the creature's face. With one red eye, signifying his anger and the activation of his flame powers, the chimera's other eye would be red thanks to the fact that James just spat in it.

"Little girl."

:}

His lips spread in a bloodstreaked grin as James' fingers fumbled around in the dirt beside him. He felt something solid, and he grasped his hand around the all-too familiar shape as he felt a surge of pure elation overcoming the agony he was experiencing.

Hate.

Hate.

It wasn't over yet. He wasn't ready to be done yet.

Pulling the drill up from the ground beside him James jammed the point of the bit in square between the chimera's eyes so hard that it split the skin and drew blood just from contact; holding it executioner style like he would have done with a pistol...

James Black Wrote:

People like Tzenidaar were the reason he carried a gun.

"...scrambled, or over easy?"

...and with grim satisfaction he squeezed.

[ 5/135 > 20/120 > 0/120 ]

Kraun Wrote:

Until of course, security was all over him like white on rice, tackling him and pinning him down while shooting him up with tranquilizer.

It'd be one hell of a sight to see security all over a drooling retard and someone who'd just been gutted and was bleeding on the ground... but there was no way that this was going to end so easily without them.

Tzenidaar suddenly had a new appreciation for life and decided that his new ******** buddy was something he wanted to live for... or whatever reasons the newly lobotomized chimera had in his half a brain. He kicked the downed man in the chest after ripping the drill out of his head in the wrong direction and started stomping with piss-poor coordination.

And that... that just wouldn't do.

Squilch! Squilch!

Wet stomping was one hell of a sound, but it wasn't one that anyone would here more than twice. James grabbed the armored boot by the heel with both hands and pulled it to the side; clawing at the seams in the armor with his fingernails as he tried to climb up the leg and get at the creature.

The world was fading out. Maybe he was actually starting to die now. Maybe it had just taken longer than he'd thought it would. Things were getting fuzzy as the lights dimmed; the bloodloss and serious internal damage finally getting to him.

But this wasn't cool. It wasn't cool at all.

Everyone knows that in the hero's death scene he needs to right some terrible wrong with the world or defeat some great evil or else his death would be in vain. Tzenidaar was that evil. Tzenidaar was what was wrong with the world. Tzenidaar was the thing that James couldn't let outlive him or everything television had taught him over the years would have been a lie.

So with one bloody hand clutching the top of an armored boot and the world fading out of focus he held up a shaking hand between the two of them... pointed his finger like he was playing cowboys and indians... and said...

"...bang."

Something shot out in that instant to slam straight into the chimera's ******** up face. The proverbial 'silver bullet' that would flawlessly slay monsters and boogie men in the movies was somewhat less than legendary in reality, but it was the only thing that he had left.

One last punch before things went black, right in the brain.

"...you're dead..."

MINDFIST v2.0

[ 0/120 > 15/105 > 5/105 ]

Quote: Magic Bullet - Weak power, light-elemental based. Power roughly equivalent to a thrown rock - 10 points.

Dual tech:

SECURI-SWARM