Endless Steps

Duc was sitting on a step, it went up seemingly forever and seemed to branch off at odd angles into other steps. Randomly set up between different landings was a series of doors which didn't look like they could go any where.

The giant gear works was another note of interest as they looked to serve no other purpose then to take up space and cause other gears and cogs to rotate and shift with time.

There was no logic to it, where was the rest of his team?

The Darth Vizzle Wrote:

"What sort of fighting location is this?" One only a genius or insane mind could come up with...

Ryugi answered from one level below the two fighters on Redemption. With a quick jump and a running start he leapt off the walkway where he was to land on one of the large gears protruding from the walls.

He rode it up to their level like an elevator, before leaping once more and landing on another walkway on the opposite side of the massive structure.

And I don't like it...

Truth be told, Ryugi felt cramped. He was lucky he wasn't claustrophobic, or this place would drive him crazy. But that wasn't going to stop him from making use of Ragnarok this time around. He'd cleave through the newly built walls if he had to...

The first member of Eclipse had arrived.

Despite the handsome new competitors, the impressionable and confused woman-spectators found themselves quickly stolen away by a mysterious native who wondered, in musical form, how the creators of this place could justify not using his namesake in the description of this arena....

Well, it was getting to be that time, wasn't it? Entrances had been made, and time was just moving along like the turning gears and click clacking of the massive clock tower around him. Ryugi cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders a bit before walking out onto a walkway and looking down at the two visible members of team Redemption. His red eyes scanned their forms before finally settling on the guy that was just sitting around.

Hey, you! The guy sitting on the steps over there!

Ryugi pointed to Duc with his left hand as his right hand drifted to the handle of Ragnarok on his back, the weapon he hadn't used once in any of his fights this year, thus far. As he gripped the handle of the weapon, it pulsed with recognition, a spark of energy running up and down along its length, the green gem in the middle of the handle shimmering softly in the light of the interior.

Quote: Shining Sword

This ability gets its name from Ragnarok's glowing status while undergoing it. When in this form, Ryugi can get a slight boost in his stats as long as Ragnarok is within his grip, as Ragnarok uses its own energy to assist Ryugi in battle. The boost is roughly a 50% increase to Ryugi's stats.

His mouth turned up into a grin as his eyes locked on to Duc once more as he noticed the energy flowing along Ragnarok seemed far easier to control and manipulate than usual. It must be something about this place...

Excellent.

In that case, Ryugi wasn't going to hold back...

With nothing but a thought, the glowing sword suddenly began to swirl with a light blue energy, and Ryugi felt the decrease in weight of his weapon as an effect. It was time to showcase what he could really do...

Quote: Weight Augmentation

While Ryugi can wield Ragnarok due to his strength, the sword's weight is still easy to see in his swordplay, limiting his movements. Ragnarok has power of its own, and can use this power to augment its weight for its wielder if Ryugi so wills it to. This is done by tracking Ryugi's movements, and using its own power to add positive force and counteract negative force (IE - some of the force of gravity or its own inertia and momentum). This allows Ryugi to wield the sword with greater ease, while the sword itself doesn't truly get any lighter. One could consider it somewhat similar to having two sets of hands wielding the blade rather than one. The sword's effective weight is seemingly reduced by about 35%.

Ryugi gripped the handle and swung the blade around to his side before taking two steps to shoot himself into the air, heading straight towards Duc's nice little sitting spot. As he moved, Ragnarok was pulled into an overhead swing with Ryugi's powerful arms driving the blade into a mighty overhead cleaving blow.

WAKE THE HELL UP!!

It was on...

[1/17]

Truth be told, Ryugi wasn't worried in the slightest. Swordplay was about grace and control as much as it was about being able to cleave through an engine block...

Deitric, Ryugi saw, was sitting down the steps and off to Duc's side, which likely meant Duc was looking out at the mess of gears, walkways, and other environmental oddities to his left.

As Ryugi came down, Duc got the heck out of dodge, and Ryugi's blade carved neatly into the wall directly behind where he had been. One might notice that the blade hadn't even come close to striking Duc, had he still been sitting.

In short, the whole thing had been a scare tactic. And by the looks of Duc making a run for it, it appeared that it had worked quite well. Of course, this made for an interestng turn of events as Duc vanished from sight through the door.

Now, a vanishing opponent has to go somewhere. Ryugi wasn't that daft. And thus, as Duc vanished, Ryugi immediately craned his neck to look around and determine where the man was, and was shocked to find him coming out of a door above him. Ryugi grinned and bent his back as he felt the knees hit him, and the arms wrap around him.

Ryugi was a tough guy, and had taken far worse than some knees to the back. So, while the pain was unpleasant, it didn't really slow him down any. In fact, Ryugi didn't even show it, other than a wince and a quick gritting of his teeth.

It was at this point that Ryugi had to ask himself a simple question...

Why did people keep grabbing him?

Hadn't they learned by now that grabbing him and holding on meant flames?

Seriously! Had no one watched the past matches on television? Sheesh...

Ryugi mentally shrugged and gripped Duc's arms with his left arm, Ragnarok in his right, and pulled down with enough force to prevent himself from being choked, but not enough to remove the arms completely.

One had to wonder why until Ryugi suddenly bent his legs and jumped backwards, yanking Ragnarok out of the wall in the process, as he and Duc fell towards the same door he'd originally jumped through to avoid Ryugi's cleaving blow.

Ryugi could have hopped off the stairs and probably crushed Duc under his weight, but falling through a door to get that extra oomph? Now THAT would hurt. And, in the meantime, Ryugi's body lit up, engulfing himself in flames as he fell.

Duc was along for the ride.

Ryugi felt tingly and num all at the same time as he fell through his first door. This would be Duc's second. Of course, Ryugi didn't exactly know the effects the inter-dimensional travel would have on either of them, but it probably wouldn't be fatal...

...he hoped.

[2/17]

Duc would find Ryugi's hair far more like thin porcupine quills than hair-like. The stiffness of that hair was one of the reasons it was almost always spiked, as if defying gravity. It was course and rather difficult to bite through in order to get to his scalp. Fate, it seemed, was very much not on his side...

Then came Duc's attempted hand motions. Ryugi still had a grip on his arms, and Ryugi was far stronger than his opponent, even with just one arm. In short, he was able to hold on rather easily to prevent the man from flailing his arms around.

Then, Ryugi felt Duc attempting to leap away. Fair enough, Ryugi would let him. He released the man's arms and the man leapt away. Of course, in order to do so, he would have had to place enough force against Ryugi to push himself away, which would ultimately transfer to Ryugi and send him forward a bit, which made him miss the door he'd been aiming for. But no matter.

Ryugi landed just off to the side of the door, and turned to hear and see Duc rolling across one of the large gears. He'd turn to face him and hop onto the edge of another nearby gear, shaking his head, sidestepping to maintain his position with Ragnarok resting on his shoulder, the blade still glowing.

We're just getting started and already you're bailing out?

Ryugi sighed and gripped Ragnarok more tightly around the handle before speaking again as he watched Duc stumble after his small spurt of leaping and rolling.

Well then, let's make this...

As he paused, Ryugi's right arm brought Ragnarok speeding down to the surface of the gear where it collided, causing both his and Duc's footing to jolt. Of course, Ryugi was ready for it, having braced for impact.

A little more interesting!!

Quote: Energy Lance –

Ragnarok fires a burst of energy that streaks across the ground towards an opponent for damage. Adding an equivalent amount of energy into the strike can increase the number of these lances, but at a greater cost of Ryugi's stamina.

Ragnarok's edge hit the gear and three lancing bursts of energy shot across the space between Duc and Ryugi in a spread pattern. Ryugi was loving the far less draining effect of his abilities in this place. If the lances managed to strike Duc, he'd be hit by a heavy burning sensation, and enough force to knock someone of his size off balance, or at least throw them back several feet.

But, Ryugi wasn't aiming for Duc. He was aiming for the supporting structure that held the cog Duc had landed on in place. The center lance would be aimed for the support, while the others would serve to make it harder for Duc to intercept them, if he so felt the need to do so...

If he didn't, the support would shudder and give way under the force, concrete cracking and metal buckling as the cog, and the gear on which Ryugi stood, would begin to fall. Of course, Ryugi had no intention of staying where he was...

As Ragnarok hit ground, and the lances were launched, Ryugi would leap up again, landing on a large vertical gear as it spun, pulling him up and away from the collapsing structures below.

Going down?

[3/17]

As interesting as it was to watch Duc and the guy with sword-hair pummel each other into oblivion, Deitric had better things to do. Like get his own fight going. Scooping up the coin he'd tested with earlier, he pocketed it and then stood up. He hadn't moved since the fight began, being largely oblivious to the swordsman's advance while he tested how the doors worked. Those portals were interesting, at least to someone with so little experience with the larger magical workings of Gaia.

"I'm tired of waiting," Deitric pointed over at Stephen, the nearest opponent, "Let's get this started."

Of course, Stephen wasn't his first pick. Not that the man wasn't a good fighter - but the tribesman had wanted a rematch with the red-haired Salamander. But that wasn't going to happen any time soon. But at this point, any fight would've been fine.

"No strikers?" he offered, rolling his shoulders idly. The only signs of his Elimination round was the cut across the bridge of his nose from smashing face first into a metal door, but his nose had been set and had a bandage across it. Any other injuries he might've had were hidden beneath his the zipped up jacket he wore.

Nihilistic_Impact Wrote:

Ryugi was trying to get away, leaping to another gear built into the wall; Duc wasn't going to allow that. Sure it didn't look like he'd be able to grab hold of the man; but with a running start he'd jump off the cog too, and into a mid air collision.

This was where things got interesting. Interesting indeed...

If Duc was jumping towards Ryugi, and couldn't grab a hold of him, then how could he get close enough for a midair collision? One would think that if you were close enough to ram into someone, you were generally close enough to grab them, yes? This meant, then, that Duc couldn't knock into Ryugi if he wasn't in a real position to grab him. In effect, he'd dive, and miss his target.

If Duc somehow managed to still get close enough to Ryugi to hit and/or grab him, he'd run into a wall. Quite literally...

Quote: Light Manipulation -

This technique allows Ryugi to call on light energy to form any number of solid objects for attack or defensive purposes, much like a shadow elemental, but using light energy instead. Stamina is used to manifest objects based on their size and complexity. If the objects are not destroyed in combat, the energy can be reabsorbed by Ryugi and used to replace some of the stamina lost during their creation.

Ryugi's left hand would glow as the man approached, and in an instant, a solid, floating, wall of energy would flash into existence between the two fighters, separating Duc from hitting Ryugi, and allowing Ryugi to land safely on the gear despite Duc's best efforts to prevent it. With his forward momentum canceled, Duc would probably find himself falling towards the falling gears below.

Of course, the wall was solid, and would remain in place, floating in the air. It was roughly four feet by five feet by six inches thick. Duc MIGHT be able to grab onto the top of the wall and use it to prevent himself from falling down into the machinery below, if he could react fast enough, but one had to wonder if he was unable to grab onto Ryugi, could he grab onto the floating wall? Though, if he could pull himself up, six inches was easily enough to stand on.

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

Going down?

Meanwhile, Ryugi would take a break on the gear, using it as he had before the match had started to move up to the walkway above him. Even with the environment aiding him, he would do himself a bit of a favor to recover a bit of stamina he'd expended during his last two attacks. He would do this regardless of whether Duc fell, or managed to grab onto the floating construct.

Once on the walkway, Ryugi would turn to face Duc again.

Have a nice trip, see you next fall.

[4/17]

Nihilistic_Impact Wrote:

Using the technology stored within his earrings he started playing a song in an instant, loud enough to fill the area and drown out the tick tock ticking and whine of gears. He didn't know if Ryugi would appreciate it; but the song was Push! Push! by Falco

Stephen watched as Ryu's opponent's earrings apparently became full blown stadium quality speakers that started to play... bad techno. The long haired man face palmed. Oh GOD this was embarrassing. A man just made earrings turn into cheese machines, and it was producing year old Limburger. How messed up was that?

And lets not forget the sheer fact that... well... how the hell was he not DEAF? Stephen's headphones were usually about his neck and they were NEVER near his head when they were pumping it full blast (they were much better for room deafening sound when they were strategically placed somewhere rather than being mobile anyway.) These, however were RIGHT NEXT TO HIS EARS.

Stephen sighed again, then looked up at Ryu's opponent with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"HEY JACKASS!

If you're gonna steal my gimmick,

DO IT ******** PROPERLY!!!"

The Darth Vizzle Wrote:

"I'm tired of waiting," Deitric pointed over at Stephen, the nearest opponent, "Let's get this started."

As if on cue, Stephen whipped off his headphones, and fiddled with the MP3 Player for a moment or two before leaving them to play on the side lines to show the cocky b***h how it was done.

The music started playing as he approached his challenger; a bored look on his face reminiscent of the second round fight.

"Whatever."

The Darth Vizzle Wrote:

"No strikers?"

"Do I look like I care?" said the man nonchalantly as he stood next to his opponent.

And then:

Surprise torso shot - side thrust kick with the right leg.

"Tag."

[1/17]

So things didn't go according to plan, what was that famous line?

So the wall exploded, sending him flying backwards, he was only blinded for a moment though and over all the damage was more superficial then crippling. As he flew backwards he did something completely out of spite.

He knew Ryugi's course, or at least what seemed to be his course, so he whipped the baton and threw it where the man would be riding his gear upwards. Even if it didn't hit it would travel closely by.

Then his salvation came, in the form of a drive shaft that had one gear at some lower level rotating one on a higher. Duc reached for it, swung around, hugging it with his arms before he began to climb up it.

Ryugi could jump and try to get him; but he was moving upwards.

Inwardly Duc thanked his up bringing in space.

Still he called out to the coward.

"Come on!"

And he still rocked out to the Falco.

After all, no plan survives contact with the enemy and it was time to play to his own strengths.

-5-

No plan survives contact with the enemy... Ryugi would like that line, had it been stated in open dialogue. It was a good line. But enough about good lines, the 4th wall was already starting to crack a bit. Not good...

Sooo...

Ryugi couldn't exactly jump after someone who caught themselves on a drive shaft and moved up. He'd never make it to them, and they'd have the high ground. Not very good. And then, the guy had the wherewithal to chuck his baton at Ryugi as he was busy getting lifted up by the gear, after being exploded no less. That was annoying. Annoying, but not exactly troublesome. Ryugi deflected the baton with his left forearm and forearm guard.

Now he had a monkey climbing a pole to deal with. Fair enough...

With two swings of his sword, and with one arm, Ryugi would release two searing orange blades of energy that sped towards the drive shaft, the first one slamming into the upper section just below the top gear, severing it completely, the second slamming into the base, just above the driving gear, severing the shaft completely from both of the supports holding it in place. That should give Duc something to worry about.

That done, Ryugi would jump into the air, and take a moment to create another construct of energy. This time, however, it was a platform. And one solid enough for him to walk on. All it served to do was give Ryugi a steady place of footing as Duc's was effectively eliminated. He'd simply remain there long enough to see how the man reacted to his pole being severed, before moving into action...

[6/17]

Deitric grunted at a job well done when he heard the resounding clang of his opponent's body getting smacked into the cog. Sort of like a gong, except much, much deeper. He'd begun to reverse his momentum, but Stephen had different plans, it seemed.

The explosion wasn't quite a part of his plan.

!

The giant gear exploded in a gale of force and flame, and he felt Stephen's leg fly from his grasp. He could only assume it was still attached to the owner. When he had the time to make assumptions anyways. The black-haired tribesman was sent hurling off to his right, smacking into the nearby wall shoulder first before falling to the ground in a heap.

He shook himself like a wet dog and stood up as quick as he could manage, blinking hard a few times to try and clear the flashing, blinkering colors from the backs of his eyelids. Hopping up so fast hadn't been the best idea. Something warm dribbled down from his temple where a piece of the cog had struck his head, and a few more pieces were sticking out of his jacket, leaving gashes and punctures all along his left arm where the bracer beneath his jacket sleeve didn't cover it. Light trails of smoke rose from his jeans and jacket where he'd been a bit too close for comfort with the explosion.

Getting slapped up against a wall like a human rag-doll didn't exactly feel good, either. But counting bruises was like counting grains of sand. Not really worth the trouble. For what it was worth though, both sides of his body were battered, at least a little - one from the explosion, the other from his friendly encounter with the clocktower's wall. As it was, he figured he must've been in better condition than his opponent - at least he wasn't up close and personal with the explosion.

But if his opponent wanted to play that way -- he could too.

The air around the tribesman began to buzz with anticipation almost imperceptibly, the colors of his eyes lightening until they were an almost lightning-white. Surges of power rushed through his limbs and snapped him awake, sending a tingling sensation spreading outward from his spine. From a distance, though, he wouldn't of appeared any different. But like his opponent, in the Clocktower he could tap into his powers a little easier, and he was ready for when he had to use them.

Bending his legs at the knees, the Khasmin fighter leaped across the chasm between his current platform and the one ahead - the one he and Stephen had both been blasted off of. Landing with a clack of boot leather and steel-capped heels on metal, the warrior rose up to his full height again.

"Let's go."

It wasn't an offer. The warrior's features remained stoic, seemingly ignorant or uncaring of the blood that was making its way down the side of his face.

Outside the Clocktower, a helicopter rose up into the sky, the side doors flung open. Inside the vehicle, bombastic drums and shredding guitar tore out from the confines echoing out across the air.

HIT THE LIGHTS

Deitric's gloved hands came up in half-closed fists as he began to make his way across the platform towards the other Heaven or Hell participant. If Stephen didn't join him on the platform, he'd go to the other fighter, then.

[2/17]

Oh no he didn't.

You don't just go around playin' the Metallica Card like it's goin' out of style.

No... it was more than just music.

It was grounds for a...

ROCK OFF!!!

Stephen grabbed a small chunk of cog that had broken off and landed next to him, and chucked it over to the MP3 player. The machine bounced slightly as it was hit, causing the song to skip from the current one to one more suitable for the rock off pleasure. He didn't have a band on his side, but that MP3 Player had proven itself to be more than met the eye. Perhaps the insane arena would give rise to some interesting twists to counter Deitric's challenge.

With the thing operating at full blast, the acoustics of the ring (if you could even call them that) caused a bit of echoing that the outside band would be without. However, with the chopper drowning out some of the sound, it would be a fair fight all the same. Both sides would have to rock hard if they wanted to win this. The two of them would have to...

BE QUICK OR BE DEAD

As soon as the challenge was accepted, Stephen came running in towards Deitric, drawing both his weapons from their sheathes and coming down to attack his opponent. Upon coming into range, he would slash with his right hand weapon at his opponent's unprotected head, hoping to leave a deep, nasty cut diagonally down Deitric's face, his right to his left. Stephen wouldn't actively go for the eyes, but if one of them were hit due to failed dodging or something of the sort, then so be it.

With his left blade he would follow up with a deep stab into the opponent's right shoulder, intent on getting some blood flowing from his opponent, as well as possibly trashing enough nerves in the process to hopefully render the arm a little less useful than before. Either way, the goal was pure damage, loosing up Deitric for a possible beatdown.

And also because Maiden was playing.

And you can't not go all out when Maiden is playing.

It's like a crime or something.

[3/17]

He put the sword away and started to advance; and to Duc it all seemed to happen ponderously slow. That was the downside of the drugs; but they did give him time to think.

And time was vital in a fight.

Duc ignored Ryugi's taunts, too focused upon his movements and thinking two, three even four steps ahead in a multitude of different ways by which he could proceed from this single point.

They started fifteen feet apart before Ryugi's started his slow walk. It would take less then a second to cover the ground as a sprint.

Grinning he dashed forward, his hands empty of any weapon; but then he wasn't intending to follow any normal rules of a fight. No, he was going to make up his own as he went along. Especially now that his foe had decided to concede him the floor.

At a six foot distance Duc initiated his attack. Reaching to his left with both hands he grabbed a head and to the side of him the railing. With that focal point he threw his whole body into the air and combined his dash and genetically enhanced upper body strength to drive both heals into Ryugi's chest.

Duc didn't care if the man wore armour, he just wanted to reach out and touch someone.

-7-

Rock?

Not at all.

METAL.

Enough fourth wall breaking.

As it was though, the band outside cranked it up to ELEVEN and changed songs.

---

Late at night all systems go

You have come to see the show

We do our best You're the rest

You make it real you know

There is a feeling deep inside

That drives you ********' mad

A feeling of a hammerhead

You need it oh so bad

Steel brought to bear against him, Deitric didn't bother slowing down - he just came right on, hands up and ready. If the possibility of getting skewered with those blades bothered the Khasmin warrior, he wasn't showing much concern. In fact, he seemed more than at home wading right into the thick of it.

Bang your head against the stage

Like you never did before

Make it ring Make it bleed

Make it really sore

In a frenzied madness

with your leather and your spikes

Heads are bobbing all around

It's hot as Hell tonight

The first blade swiped in across his face, but it only bit an arm instead. At least, at first glance - Deitric's left had come forward to guard the attack, and the razor edge of the blade tore cleanly through his sleeve, putting an impressive cut into the metal of the bracer while bruising the flesh beneath. The tribesman only twisted his arm at the elbow and lashed down to try and grab at Stephen's wrist to try and keep the sword from coming into play again. He still wasn't slowing down - not in the least.

Here on the stage the Marshall noise

is piercing through your ears

It kicks your a** kick your face

Exploding feeling nears

Now is the time to let it rip

To let it ********' loose

We are gathered here to maim and kill

Cause this is what we choose

In knifed the other blade, with a fair bit more success than its kin. The brave managed to roll his shoulder and bring the right arm out, but the blade sliced into the shoulder of his jacket and bit into flesh beneath. A warrior couldn't block everything - but at the trying to block at least lessened the damage, turning a debilitating stab into red slash mark over the muscles of his shoulder.

But just like the last time, he seemed to lash out with his hand to try and grab his opponent by the forearm or wrist - for whatever reason, he was intent on the two of them locking up like Voltron, or something. For Stephen, it'd become apparent as the distance between the two was now closed considerably - they'd see eye to eye, soon enough.

With both wrists latched onto, Deitric's opponent might have noticed a rather shocking quality to the tall man's grasp - electricity pumped right from hand into his opponent, like a human taser. It wasn't much - just enough to try and give him pause to open him up for a fraction of a second. That's all the black-haired brave wanted - it's all he needed.

The show is through the metal is gone

It is time to hit the road

Another town Another gig

Again we will explode

Hotel rooms and motorways

Life out here is raw

But we will never stop

We will never quit

cause we are Metallica

Up close, the warrior's head seemed to rear back for a second before he slung himself forward with his last step, aiming to slam the hairline of his head right into Stephen's face. In itself, a headbutt was pretty ruthless, but the tribesman had something in store for his opponent. The ease of power-use here gave him something to work with - much like giving a pyromaniac a can of gasoline.

Abilities Wrote:

►Rolling Thunder - This is the hand to hand form of the Storm of Spears, and largely considered more powerful and versatile. Deitric channels his power into his upper body, especially his arms. He utilizes the energy to fuel a storm of flying fists; the speed, heat, and charge of electricity in the air around his attacks making it look as if he's throwing hundres of punches (as opposed to the real number of 1-2 dozen), giving it the nickname of "The Thousand Fist Combo."

Became:

Improvisation Wrote:

►WHIPLASH - THOUSAND HEADBUTT COMBO.

And Deitric's motions became blurred as he abruptly took on the appearance of a serious, heavy-duty headbanger in fast forward as his he slammed his head forward almost a dozen times, right in close proximity to Stephen's face. Thanks his use of not-quite-mundane powers, he didn't quite need to lean back and physically put as much power into it.

Suffice to say, he was headbangingbutting pretty hard, and pretty fast. And, as it were, aiming right for Stephen's face, right up close where it mattered. It might almost be comical, if he were a hammer hitting a nail. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do - headbutts hurt on both ends - but it was likely the most surprising.

Adrenaline starts to flow

You're thrashing all around

Acting like a maniac

WHIPLASH

[3/17]

Duc didn't care if the reason he hit Ryugi was because of him wanting to be hit or because the stars had aligned and Dread Cthulhu was rising, causing some disturbance in Ryugi's mental state. Either way, he got his kick in.

That was only the start though.

As gravity pulled his legs downwards he'd bring one back from his starting position and have the other land only a few feet away from Ryugi. This forced Duc into a low stance, a very low stance.

Now while his feet did their motion his own hands did there's. He gripped the hilt of his tomahawk, pulled it lose from its leather sheathe and with a transfer of weight from his left to his right foot swung downwards at a horizontal angle to strike Ryugi in either lower leg with the two inch spike.

Under normal circumstances that spike would have been able to drive through three/fourths of an inch thick steel and Duc had aimed for some of the weakest structural points in armour.

It was time to keep Ryugi on his toes, maybe make him dance.

-8-

Ryugi had just stumbled back after being kicked in the chest, which had given him around about five feet of distance between him and Duc, as Duc's forward momentum had transferred into him with the force of the kick, and Ryugi had taken a step or two back from impact.

That caused a bit of a problem for Duc. Unless his tomahawk was about five feet long, and that's assuming Duc could bend and reach past his toes, there was no way in hell that the point of the axe was going to be striking Ryugi's legs. The distances involved practically guaranteed it would miss. Had Ryugi been closer, it would have been quite a nice combo.

Even if he WAS somehow close enough, Ryugi's next action would deal with the tomahawk...

See, Ryugi had a bit of a dilemma going on. His opponent, though apparently human and seemingly unarmored, was using a weapon now. It wasn't exactly unarmed combat as Ryugi had expected. This left him with the option of using Ragnarok... But, on the other hand, the ferocity of the weapon could possibly be too much for his opponent, and Ryugi certainly didn't want to accidentally kill the man.

And then, an idea... Maybe he didn't have to use Ragnarok...

Ryugi leaned back and jumped, gaining a good seven feet or so on Duc along the walkway. As he jumped, his arms and hands glowed with white light energy, and as he landed, they blossomed...

Quote: Light Manipulation - This technique allows Ryugi to call on light energy to form any number of solid objects for attack or defensive purposes, much like a shadow elemental, but using light energy instead. Stamina is used to manifest objects based on their size and complexity. If the objects are not destroyed in combat, the energy can be reabsorbed by Ryugi and used to replace some of the stamina lost during their creation.

Up until this point, Ryugi had used this technique only to manifest walls and other such non-dynamic objects. But as the glow faded, it became apparent that this was no longer the case.

In Ryugi's right hand he held a broadsword of light, roughly three feet and eight inches in length including the handle. Energy or not, it had been compacted down to a level roughly on par to a steel blade of the same size as far as strength, but only half as heavy due to its construction.

On his left arm, Ryugi held a shield (number seven for shape). The shield was approximately three and a half feet tall, and a little over two feet wide at its widest point. It too was roughly as strong as a steel weapon of the same shape, but once more half the weight due to construction.

Of course, there was nothing magical about these weapons other than their composition. There would be no energy blades or flames erupting from these constructs. But they allowed Ryugi to combat Duc's weapon without having to worry about Ragnarok's overpowering nature.

Once Ryugi had landed and his new armament had been created, he began to trot back towards Duc, sword back and to his right, ready to strike, shield up in front for defense, and looking more like a paladin than ever.

Weapon vs weapon combat it was...

[9/17]

UNINTENTIONAL NUTSHOT LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

No, we're not going to reuse that joke again.

Stephen had accidentally saved himself from a good Tornado Death Spin or the like, which was for the best since he had no cushion to save him this time (and you don't wanna know about the last time.) With the injured Deitric failing to properly complete his attack, he sent Stephen going off a ways in an random direction.

He whammed into top one of the nearby stairways and rolled down a short way to another flat surface, releasing a loud groan. ******** that hurt. Deitric had an ARM on 'im. The man in red too a second to regain composure, then got to his feet, and wiped some of the blood, sweat and tears from his eyes. His nose was still rather trashed, and his face couldn't hide the beating he had' received earlier, but he was pleased to see that his opponent wasn't completely unharmed. He leaned on the rail next to his landing point and leaned on it for a moment himself.

"Damn... I don't know where you're from, but they sure don't raise pushovers."

He spat out some blood, staining the pristine floor before flashing a cocky grin across the arena to his opponent.

"Even for just another lousy thundercuBEEP"

Hey, watch the language Sutii.

"Sorry Boss."

Stephen straightened his jacket after his jaunt into fourth wall breaking, then started to hop from one platform to the next in order to return to Deitric's location, leaving a small trail of blood and sweat behind him. It was could to be able to see a bit again, but breathing was a little difficult with one's nose in a rather bashed up state. Nothing that couldn't be dealt with though.

As he closed in, he running came with a FALCON PUNCH!!! punch to the face. Or at least it would appear to be that way. But instead of going into an all out punch that would leave him open if missed, something else happened instead:

Quote: Flash Bomb: Sutii hurls a small orb of energy from his palm that, upon collision with a solid object, creates an explosion of light and concussive force, which can be used to momentarily blind or stun an opponent. This flash affects a 10 sq.ft. radius in all directions, but can be countered by a covering of one's eyes. R1. (Spiritual Ability)

He pulled the move, stopping his rush inward and, like a baseball pitcher, released an orb of energy from his palm straight at Deitric's face. Stephen shut his eyes long enough to avoid being blinded by the subsequent burst of light that came from his attack before closing the short distance between them. Deitric, presumably not knowing of this effect of Stephen's arguably most well known move, would find himself off guard and find himself on the receiving end of right roundhouse kick to the side and or back of the head (whatever he could hit, depending on the angle Deitric gave him.)

So unless Deitric was already blind, a mind reader, skilled at realizing an attack's effect before seeing it, or was just plain lucky, he'd have a nice bright light in his eyes. Not to mention another blow to the head if the orb indeed contacted the man's face (the concussive force from that explosion could hurt like a b***h sometimes.)

Assuming it worked, Deitric would need some serious Zatoichi like skills to avoid getting his brains jumbled about even more than they were.

Now ain't THAT a kick in the head?

Oh yeah, and despite it being impossible to counter a crotch shot with METAL, the METALOCALYPSE CHAMPIONSHIP was still very much on. Go Go Spastastic MP3 Player Mojo!

THROUGH THE FIRE AND FLAMES

[6/17]

At his opponent's banter, the bright-eyed (in Sunstrike's words) warrior could only grin, keeping a careful eye on the man. His hand was still in front of his face, and he gripped his own nose for a moment. The talking and repose between them gave him time to do something else, though.

Crr-r-rrkk-k

And set it into place with a grisly noise. In a rare moment, the warrior showed a flash of emotion in his face as he grimaced and swore in a language completely unrelated to the one his opponent spoke. Afterwards, he pressed his thumb to the side of his nose and blew out a thick gob of blood and gristle. Suffice to say, his mannerisms weren't exactly 'cultivated', but they got the job done.

"You'd be surprised," he spoke clearly, his nose unclogged now, though blood still ran freely from his nostrils. It wasn't clogging up his breathing passages, at least. The warrior brought his bloodied hands back up when his opponent began to approach, careful to keep on his guard.

Then the man threw something, something spherical. The tribesman knew throwing weapons pretty well, having thrown everything from his tomahawks to people, to tables or even chunks of ice, but something that looked more akin to a fuzzy ball of light didn't really click anywhere in his mind. If he swore - or spoke - more - he might have offered a obligatory "what the ******** is that?"

Instead, he just leaned back and kept his arms up to try and guard - it was a little too close for him to just hop out of the way. Then, like a camera flash that he could only see outlining his arms like a corona, the thing exploded, shredding up the leather sleeves of his jacket and warping the metal of his bracers. The only reason it didn't force him back was simply because it was aimed too high, and his center of gravity was low enough that he wouldn't stumble.

While it sure hurt his arms like a sonuvabitch, it also saved his eyes - sort of. Instead of being completely blinded, he now just had colored spots in his vision like the afterimages of a glow-stick in a rave, and his vision eyes were trying to refocus. But what he could see once he tried to look beyond his arms was a melted-wax opponent coming at him with some sort of kick.

Which proceeded to smash into his arms and head, which he'd just barely shifted in time to the side to try and take the brunt of the attack's force. Part of the man's foot managed to clip his head still, sending a quick flash of pain through the dull ache that his head was already awash in, but most of the force had smacked right into his arms. He knew it was a kick, mostly from the fact that you didn't throw a punch like that, moreso than any ability to see in good and proper focus.

He'd been doing a lot of grabbing and tossing, and even in the middle of getting half-way booted to the head, he had enough mental capacity to realize his opponent probably would have expected such a thing. All things said and done, Deitric was generally a 'fair' man. He wasn't underhanded - clever, not sly - but he had learned that fighting fair wasn't always in his best interests.

In his Elimination, Gamma had taught Deitric that sometimes, the only way to win was to be a real b*****d and cut some corners, take the quick path that led to the most efficient amount of pain or damage dealt to an opponent, even if it just so happened to be.. not quite gentlemanly in nature.

So, when that leg smashed into the brave's already-battered defenses, he knew that the man was defenseless in one way; his leg was raised and he was stationary.

So, Deitric responded with a kick of his own.

The tribesman brought his booted back-foot forward as hard as he could and swung it with every ounce of power he could manage in that little mote of time.

And aimed to smash the boot-tip right into his opponent's jewels.

Really.

Really.

Hard.

It wasn't nice.

It wasn't fair.

But he was going to pay Stephen back for earlier, even if the man hadn't done it intentionally.

BALLS TO THE WALLS

The fourth wall thought it fitting.

[6/17]

Kicks were indeed a move with a large opening, and thus were not something to be thrown about lightly. Stephen did no such thing but he did what he could with what he had. He was pleased, however, that Deitric didn't grab his leg, as around that point he would have to go for some dirty play with an eye gouge or something.

As his leg returned to the ground, he'd grab Deitric's right wrist with his own right hand, and bring up his left hand to slam up into the man's elbow. As he did so he would pull the man's arm back, extending it out so that the slam was not so much a blow as it was an attempt at breaking a limb. He would just keep yanking down and pushing up until the joint was trashed and rendered relatively useless for the rest of the fight.

Wait a minute, is that a foot flying at his cro-

WHUMP!

...mommy...

Stephen's hands reacted by both pulling down and slamming up much harder and faster due to the pain, the attempted break changing into an attempted snapping of the limb like one would a piece of wood over a knee. This would probably give Deitric something to ponder about while Stephen was himself currently thinking of how glad he was that he already had a child since odds were he was probably either a eunuch or completely sterile now.

It was true. There was nothing METAL you could really do when you received a crotch shot.

So ahhh... for the interests of gimmick consistency, watch your childhood be destroyed:

COOKIE MONSTER METAL

[7/17]

Duc's swing was based on the idea that a step or two back was only a foot or so, not some great backwards debilitating step that required Ryugi to completely recover his composure.

Regardless, Duc was armed now and had proved that he was willing to use a weapon.

Of course as his swing missed and Ryugi jumped back Duc did a quick step forward and a lunge. It being easier after all to move forward then backwards after all.

During this time Duc raised his axe high above his right shoulder and with his lunge brought it swinging down in a way that would catch Ryugi's left shoulder with the spike. Now as this happened he was materialising his light sword and shield.

The lunge had been forward with his right leg, his left trailed behind and was quickly brought not to regular stance but to a forward step that would further decrease the distance between Ryugi and himself from arms reach to something much shorter.

Duc's left hand was held across his body and outwards with fingers spread as a way to defend himself from that new blade.

-9-

One generally doesn't just shuffle a foot backwards when someone else plows into them with their whole body weight, plus the force of two legs kicking, blocked or not. That was force for you. It liked to continue on to the next object it came into contact with. Conservation of momentum etc.

Of course, a semi-vertical drop from above onto a virtually vertical surface would create less force and motion, and therefore less pain. But that was neither here nor there... Duc falling from the door was in the past. Right now, Duc was having to push off from a spread legged crouch of sorts where one leg was in front of the other, effectively take a step, which would lead him into a lunge with his axe.

Now, Ryugi had been gathering energy into his hands while he was in the air. Once he landed, the sword and shield quickly took shape. Almost instantly for that matter. While more intricate, the sword and shield effectively took no more energy than Ryugi's solid wall construct he'd made earlier, and that was also virtually instant, albeit with an equivalent stamina drain to accompany it. The sword and shield were no different. Things of this size just didn't take that long, or take that much energy or stamina.

That said, as Ryugi landed and Duc came in, Ryugi slid to the right and moved into a slight crouch with his knees bent, raising his shield with his left arm. The move caused the pointed end of the tomahawk to glance of the light shield with a metallic clang, and a rippling effect across the shield's entirety. A direct strike would have damaged the shield too much, and Ryugi knew this, and thus, he'd opted for the glancing blow.

The shield was large enough that, in his current position, it covered most of Ryugi's left side, and was easily light enough to be moved to protect other areas as well. But after deflecting the axe, Ryugi's slight crouch exploded into a lunge of his own, using the shield as a battering ram to slam into Duc's body. It was a...

SHIELD BASH!!

Even as Ryugi shot forward, his right arm still held the blade back and to the side, set and ready to strike if Duc made an attempt to get out of range of the shield strike.

Somewhere, Dash would be proud...

[10/17]

Deitric had figured out at least a little about his opponent - and glowing hands or bright lights meant something bad was about to happen. When his opponent got ready to throw, that meant it was time to move. When Stephen hurled the sphere, Deitric threw all his weight to his left and leaped aside.

And was forced right off the platform and into the air.

That wasn't quite part of the plan, last he checked.

Down the tribesman went, but not as far as one might have expected. There was a horizontally-set gear sans a gear shaft right below the platform and just off to the side which had managed to break his fall. And from there, he could see what his opponent was going for. He couldn't make it in time, but he knew what could.

Ignoring the throbbing in his legs from the fall, the brave's gloved hand flashed down to one of the tomahawks on his belt and loosed it as quickly as he could, sending the axe spinning through the air with a side-throw, instead of end over end. If it was one thing he could do well, it was throw his 'hawks, and with the same unerring accuracy of any archer and their bow, if not quite the same impressive range.

He missed Stephen by a few feet..

CLANK

..but hit the abandoned weapons, sending all three weapons - swords and 'hawk - tumbling down into the darkness of the machinery beneath the arena. Both weapons would no doubt be found afterward, but for now they were consigned to the mechanical abyss, where the gears were too numerous for someone to traverse without their grinding and churning being halted. He hadn't had time to charge his own 'hawk, which meant that it was stuck with the same fate.

"You won't need those," the Khasmin man offered coldly, reaching down to grasp his wrist before pulling and jamming it back into socket. That was one good thing for what his opponent had done, at least - he could re-set his wrist without an ounce of pain; the entire limb was numb. He forced his arm to straighten out, letting both hang by his sides as he stood atop the gear, staring the other man down.

[8/17]

Unlike his opponent, Deitric still had a still, calm mind. It was rare for him to get angry, and rarer still to fall into the bloody haze of berserk rage in battle. He simply ignored Stephen's words, focusing instead inward, honing himself to a razor edge.

As Stephen approached, Deitric's stance changed from that of an idle man to someone stepping into combat again, but his hands didn't raise all the way to a full-guard just yet. He seemed to stay watchful instead, his blazing blue-white eyes searching for intent and a shift in movement as the Eclipse team member stepped into striking range.

WHAM

And slammed his fist into Deitric's cheek as he torqued his own body clock-wise. The flesh split and fresh blood was spilled. That was all part of it though - sacrifice had to be made.

But before Stephen could continue his combo, Deitric had thrown his own punch with his right, aiming for the exposed ribs of his opponent from the punch the man had just thrown. Despite the injury to the elbow, he could still throw a punch just fine - in exchange for further injury, of course. It was hard to say whether or not Stephen's second blow would strike in the exchange - but it didn't matter. Deitric had opened the door for the combo for one reason - to slam it back into his opponent's face.

Abilities Wrote:

►Maelstrom Spiral - Deitric's only true "finishing" move, is similar to the Thunder Drum attack in that it only requires the use of one hand. The main difference is the expenditure of energy and exactly how it manifests. Assuming he has enough energy generated or enough to expend, Deitric can pool it all into a single fist before attacking. Once the attack has started, the energy begins to spiral in a cyclone fury from his fist and backwards, spilling over the warrior and the area around him. The attack hurls Deitric forward, enveloped in a swirling tempest of power. Anything in the way of the attack will usually be knocked back, and anything directly struck by the punch will feel the sudden reversal of the spiral, abruptly pushed back with a whirlwind of force and electricity.

Except Deitric didn't charge forward. He didn't expend the energy to propel himself forward. Instead, all of it had been dumped into the force of the blow before he released it point blank on his opponent's ribs with the abrupt left straight amidst Stephen's own combo.

FWOOM

The feeling was something akin to being hit by a Mack Truck while sitting in an electric chair.

Assuming all went to plan, the blow would explode in all the fury of a raging thunderstorm, sending a massive discharge of electrical power and physical, concussive force right into the Stephen's midsection. Enough force to do serious damage to bone and organ alike. Enough to even send the man flying wholly across the chasm of the clock tower and into any number of things - a gear, cog, platform, wall, or even one of those doors. For the first ten feet or so of his abrupt flight, he'd be awash in the backlash of electrical power that was expelled from the point of contact. Deitric couldn't aim where his opponent would be sent flying; it was just in the same direction as he'd thrown the punch.

Suffice to say, if Deitric's gamble had paid off, he'd of just put his opponent in a world of hurt.

But, like many of his gambles, it had come at a price. When/if the brave's punch connected, there would be a barely-audible click beneath the cacophony of the punch and its release of power as something shifted in the elbow. Something broke out of place, and suddenly the arm was locked at the elbow in the position he'd struck with. Even with the numbness, he could feel a vague push against his flesh where something was grinding in a way it shouldn't of. The leather of his jacket was burnt and in some places melted to his bracer and the flesh of his forearm, while the skin beneath was burnt and smoking.

Four smoking pieces of metal - the knuckle caps of his gloves - clinked to the cog he was standing on, burnt skin and cloth stuck to the backs of them. With the ease of using his powers in the Clocktower, the price hadn't been nearly as heavy as prior times he'd abruptly forced his body through the paces of the Maelstrom Spiral, but thanks to his arm already being injured, it equaled out. At least he wasn't spitting blood this time.

And his other arm was fine.

Electricity snapped and cackled in the air around him, the smell of burnt ozone, clothing, and flesh reeking in the immediate area. While the warrior had expended a great deal of power, he could already feel the buzz begin to grow again, thanks in part to the strangeness of the Clocktower itself. It wasn't likely he would throw another attack of the same magnitude - simply because TWO Maelstroms, even if one was wholly prepared for, was a bad idea.

For now, he simply waited to see if his opponent rose again from whence he flew. The side of his face throbbed where he'd been struck, but that was worth the trade-off.

[10/17]

Deitric took a step forward when he saw his opponent disappear before something thudded into his back with enough force to nearly topple him. The warrior stumbled forward, reaching out with his right arm to use the numb forearm to steady him against a doorway to a portal that wasn't even placed into the wall or floor - it was just there.

Then, he felt something tighten around his neck, followed shortly by his waist, and immediately his head began to throb as his opponent managed to cut the bloodflow to his brain. But the warrior knew all the same what to do. He still held one big advantage, and his opponent had opened himself up. He tilted his head to the side as best he could, his teeth gritted as air passed through bloodied nostrils.

Shh-nnk~

Even in his berserk rage, Stephen might have felt the knife stab cleanly through the inner crook of his left elbow, close enough to Deitric that the very tip of the knife lanced a centimeter or two into the thin flesh of his chin, drawing a drop of blood that welled up on his knife blade's point. Without hesitance, Deitric pressed the blade in and carved through the bicep tendon, and his opponent would feel his right arm simply go lax as the tendon that was pulled taut to allow the choke was severed in two. Without it, the arm couldn't maintain its hold. Doing so had also given the Khasmin man a little nick for his troubles a good half an inch in length, but it would be worth it.

Deitric was no doctor, but he understood how the body worked, and as a knife fighter, he knew the places to attack. If his opponent choked him out long enough (two seconds, at most) for Deitric to put his knife to use, he'd find his right arm to be useless, unable to "curl", for lack of better term. If he had the hand clenched between the forearm or bicep of his other arm, or could maintain his grip, he could still "choke" the tribesman, but it simply wouldn't be as strong. Without the bicep's ability to "tense" into the taut position, one of the carotid arteries was free, for the most part.

The knife slipped out of the flesh for a split second before - if the blonde didn't let go - the knife jammed between his radial and ulna, carving through the flesh like a side of beef. Bloodloss aside, that was going to put a real damper on his ability to fight, as an already crippled arm was steadily torn apart.

It would only matter how long Stephen wanted to try and choke the warrior out - the longer he tried, the quicker he'd find his body being cut to ribbons by Deitric's adroit knife work. After all, there was another arm, two legs, and one kidney and lung on Stephen's left side that could use some entertainment at the edge of his blade.

All in all? Deitric would have used up three seconds of his time, going on four. But did the count down really matter, now that the chokehold had been weakened so much?

[10/17]

Deitric hadn't made any more motions to stab for good reason - stopping the choke would force Stephen to react. He didn't know how, but he did know that the man would. When he felt Stephen's hand move, he thrashed his head and made an abrupt move--

--he turned to his left and ran, at the same time Stephen was dismounting and getting read to try and end the fight, which ended up with the two men colliding body-to-body, and the tribesman's weight and movement took priority. While Stephen wouldn't be able to gouge any eyes out this fight, he'd managed to tear up Deitric's face some, but even if he tried to maintain the grip, it didn't matter now - the warrior knew where he was going.

Keeping his head tucked, Deitric suddenly wrapped both arms around Stephen in a bear-hug with the knife in his left hand jamming right into the man's spine, if at all possible. That wasn't the primary means of attack though, and the tribesman wasn't trying to tackle the man. They'd practically hit chest to chest, he just wanted his opponent along for the ride. And it seemed that way - unless Stephen had changed plans on the fly, his opponent was going to be bodily lifting and carrying him forward when they bumped chests.

He hadn't known Stephen was going to try and attack - he just knew that the man had dismounted, and with his hand grabbing at Deitric's face, he could only circle left, not right. So, he'd turned and ran into where he figured Stephen must've been. The failed attack was pretty much a complete mystery, and until Deitric watched the coverage over it, he wouldn't know a damn thing about what his opponent had planned. He was just taking a gamble

But that was neither here or there - but what was right there, only a good four steps away, was the upside down door Stephen had come through to land on Deitric in the first place.

Two steps and a lunge sent them through the portal. Stephen's second time, the Redemption fighter's first. If the doors had notable tiring effects on a fighter, what would it be like for Stephen to go through twice?

They'd just have to find out.

[11/17]

Deitric felt his opponent began to thrash and tucked his chin, pressing his forehead into Stephen's collar. That way, the best he could manage was just a chin-whack at the top of the black-haired man's head, a too-hard target, at best.

Fwoom~

And through the door they went, and suddenly they were falling. Deitric let go of knife's hilt, trusting it to stay jammed into Stephen's back, his hang gripping the wrist of his other arm to cinch his bearhug as tight as he could while they free-fell through the air. With his head tucked into the other man's shoulder, that meant Stephen's head would hopefully strike hard ground first, though it was fair to say they'd probably hit head-and-shoulders first, as opposed to just straight on the pate.

THUNK

They hit, and rolled. Even with his head tucked, it was still a bumpy ride, to say the least, and the tribesman was more than a little dazed and disoriented from the ride. If Stephen landed top-side, Deitric would do little to try and change that, opting instead to grind his bloodied forehead into the man's shoulder, so that his headbutts became clipping, glancing blows. They still hurt, but they weren't going to take him out of commission - not when he had his opponent in the perfect position.

And he began to tighten his hold, threatening to pull his own wrist out of the socket as his arm constricted around Stephen's upper-body with the broken arm trapped inside. His leather jacket groaned as the warrior's form bulged with corded muscle in his neck, arms, shoulders, and back as he tried to crush the life - or at least consciousness - from his opponent. With a few broken and battered ribs, not to mention the arm, he was going to feel the pressure rather quickly as his lungs were given no room to expand and his broken ribs were forced to grind together.

If Stephen was still conscious, it was only a matter of time. If he weren't knocked out already from the fall, anyways.

[12/17]

The knife had missed the spine intentionally, but dug into the muscle of his back. The muscles there were some of the thickest of the body, and Deitric would've had to stab pretty deep to get through them and hit an organ, which he probably hadn't. When he let go of the knife and they hit ground zero, it was likely dislodged and sent off the platform to join the swords and the tomahawk.

As for whether or not Deitric was a killer, he most certainly was. Or had been. Taking part in the defense of his homeland against the settlers who had come years ago, the Khasmin man had painted his tomahawk red more than once with the lifeblood of men. He had counted coup, killed, and taken scalps, and would do so again if forced into such a position.

But he didn't want Stephen's life - he didn't like taking life, it was only ever pressed upon him by the need of the times. Tournament rules aside, Deitric had killed, but wasn't by nature a mankiller.

The black-haired brave growled weakly and squinted his eyes, which had since dimmed to their usual turquoise color, as he felt his opponent's teeth bite down on his neck. Stephen might have tasted a bit of leather there from the collar of the jacket, but for the most part he'd gotten all flesh and drew blood from it pretty quickly.

In response, Deitric did the only thing he could do. He squeezed like a human vice while tilting his head to the side to grind his head into the other man's to try and force it away. In doing so, he'd no doubt leave a bloody, ugly looking wound with garish, uneven chunks of thin flesh and skin missing. It was hard to see under the immediate welling of blood that came up from the tattered wound and began to paint his neck.

Under the pressure of Deitric's bearhug, he could only assume Stephen would have to lose consciousness sooner or later. It was unlikely in the extreme that the tribesman would be the death of his opponent, simply because one of his arms wasn't anywhere near full strength; it was being pulled tight by the other arm to complete the bearhug.

The result was still a strong, constriction grip, but not the real deal. If Deitric had been standing up and had the full use of both arms, it might have been a different story, with Stephen's broken ribs. At any rate, it would've been over much faster.

For now, all he could do was squeeze, and wait until his opponent finally slipped into unconsciousness. But damn if the man weren't making himself a bloody goodbye on the way out.

[13/17]

The man wasn't going out quietly, that much was for sure. But if it was something Deitric could do, it was be stubborn. Even though his entire body ached from the push and pull of the fight, taking kicks, punches, and every other manner of attack, he still wouldn't allow himself to be deterred. So what if one of his arms didn't work entirely, or he probably had a concussion or three?

When he felt his opponent's arm finally yanked free, the tribesman responded not unlike a turtle; he tucked his chin and jammed his face back into the crook of the man's neck and shoulder to protect the vitals. Nose, eyes, lips, teeth, etc.

If he wanted to, Stephen could no doubt try to give him a few good whacks on the head somehow, or grab hair, but Deitric had too much of a phobia of things getting near his eyes to let Stephen try his luck with the gouge again. If he was intent on the eyes, he'd probably manage to tear up more skin on the brave's face, but the eyes were guarded.

The bloodied and battered warrior was beginning to wonder if his opponent would ever give in to the pressure he was exerting, and decided to take it a step further.

Bzzzt--

And cackling, blue arcs of electricity snapped and shot around them as Deitric released a discharge of power to try and metaphorically put the nail in the coffin for the fight. The charge itself wasn't terribly potent - if they were both fresh and unwounded, it probably wouldn't do more than give Stephen momentary pause from the pain. But being battered and broken made any pain that much worse.

It wouldn't do any lasting damage, it was just more pain piled on top of what his opponent was already going through to try and force him to give in that much quicker. It was all he could do - besides try to roll over and get a top position. But as it was, he knew the other fighter had to be giving out by now - Stephen was incredibly tough, but the body knew when it was time to stop.

[14/17]

Plink~

Deitric winced and swore in his native tongue as something in his torn ear popped and he suddenly couldn't hear anything other than a vague ringing sound. If his ear was bleeding inside, he couldn't really tell, since Stephen had done a great job tearing the s**t out of the outside of it so far. The entire left side of his face was a bloody mess, from the punch earlier, the headbutting, and now his ear being torn up.

In response, Deitric did stop shocking Stephen. For a fraction of a second, it seemed as though he was about to loosen his grip. But he didn't for some reason.

Instead, he began shocking himself with a gasp of pain. That explained why he hadn't let go, at least - he was forcing himself into an inability to do so. Electricity cackled between his teeth audibly and his muscles seized up in the throes of a self-induced electrical shock as his bear-hug began to tighten even more, threatening to break the other ribs in Stephen's torso. He was forcing himself to keep Stephen in the hold, gritting his teeth as he squeezed even harder.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do. It wasn't healthy, either. But he was going to do whatever it took. The action was nearly mindless; he didn't decide or delegate, he simply did, because it was what he had to do.

Deitric's upper body had turned into a vice, and if it was crushing Stephen before, it was going to be even worse now.

[15/17]

The tribesman grunted as his opponent's body went limp in the hold finally. Letting the internal flow of electricity die away, Deitric did his best to try and unlock his arms before he accidentally killed the blond, pulling his left hand away from the arm, flakes of black, burnt skin coming off on his palm.

With his good arm, he managed to roll Stephen over off of him and onto his back. The warrior was nearly delirious from pain as inky-blackness threatened to rush in from the edges of his vision while he lay on his back. The countdown was still going - Deitric had to rise.

4..

5..

He closed his eyes for a moment, and it looked as if he might of joined Stephen in the deep slumber of unconsciousness.

6..

7..

This is going to hurt.

Deitric shocked himself again, using it to force his mind and body to wake up like a hard slap to the face. His eyes snapped back open and he visibly twitched in pain, arcing his back and rolling over onto his stomach with a groan. He got onto his knees and reached out blindly Blood coated his neck and dribbled to the floor from the ghastly bite wound, and the warrior's hand found a railing to use, gripping it as tightly as he could.

8..

The bloodied and nearly broken tribesman pulled himself up off the ground with one heaving pull of his good arm and a push with his feet, nearly sending himself overboard. He leaned on the rail and kept himself standing with it, his heavy lidded eyes threatening to close again already. He shook his head like a wet dog, slinging blood from the multitude of wounds on his neck and head.

And the count-down stopped. Paramedics dropped in from doors above and burst out of portals on the floor to take over the situation, a handful going to Stephen, while two others approached Deitric. The fight was over, and only in Deitric's favor by virtue of the fact that he could still remain conscious enough to stand, if only barely. But to anyone who had watched the fight, it was clear that it was much more close cut than that - at any time could it of gone the other way.

"You need to come with us for medical attention.."

Deitric numbly complied.

[16/17 - final post.]