James vs Ryugi

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

A beautiful day in Frostschild Memorial Park: a place that was built in order to remember the tragic disappearance of an entire city's population, their subsequent transformation into robot zombies, and the utter SHITSTORM that followed; culminating in the very city itself sinking into the earth as if wanting to be erased from the world entirely. Needless to say, at this point there wasn't much left of Frostschild rather than the memorial and the few survivors that had made it out of the city alive.

The fact that he and 2 other members of his team were among those survivors was reason enough for James Black to be here in remembrance of the city that no longer was.

So what was he doing to pay his respects? He was eating potato salad off of a paper plate.

NOM NOM RESPECT FOR THE DEAD.

"Mmm?"

With a plastic spork still in his mouth, James folded the paper plate in half and tossed it into the nearest garbage bag along with whatever potato salad was still inside of it. It looked like it was time to do this thing... which had a lot to do with why he'd decided to have something to eat beforehand.

He wasn't particularly fond of the taste of blood in his mouth.

"Eyaah, 'spose so," he answered with a huff; brushing off a starchy bit that was clinging to the breast of his black coat. It wasn't that he wasn't ready to throw down, but it was a little hard to get worked up about a fight in which you're likely to come out a lot uglier than you went in... at least hard to get worked up in terms of being gung-ho.

James took his sweet time in heading for the clearing where the dragon was waiting; yes, he knew all about the dragon. He hadn't been wasting the last 3 years working under the administration of the Heaven or Hell board. He had overseen everything that went on during the tournament in one way or another, from background checks to being in the ring calling a fight and he knew this guy. First year as the runner-up, second year with a strong start before going up against that abomination of a team, and he'd improved even more by the third. James had seen him in action for three years now and that was why he was walking so slow to go meet the guy face to face.

Yeah, he knew he didn't get stuck with some pushover... but more than that, he knew that any way he went about this it was going to hurt. He had every disadvantage he could think of other than that he knew more about his opponent than his opponent knew about him. He needed to find some way to turn that into a weapon.

"Okay then. Hope ya didn't eat too much or it might come back to you."

As far as idle banter went, it was terrible. However, he had to say something rather than just walking over in silence. James stopped about ten feet away, not much of a distance at all between the two of them but it was close enough to start off... after all, among those many advantages the dragon had was range.

Before he went any further James glanced around the two of them to check the terrain. There were no spectators within twenty feet probably, and though they were on grass now there were a few picnic blankets spread out nearby; along with the picnic table that the dragon had been NOM NOM PREPARING FOR BATTLE at. Other than that there were charcoal grills and a coolers spread around, contents unknown. All in all it was a large picnic...

"My kingdom for a fire poker," he said to himself absently as he chewed on the end of the plastic spork still hanging out of his lip. James slipped his left hand into his side coat pocket and slid one foot back slightly.

"I'm ready when you are."

Intimidating didn't begin to describe the kind of feeling that came with seeing the dragon's right hand go or the hilt of his sword. James had seen what the weapon was capable of, it was an understatement to think that he could be easily cut in two if he was caught off-guard by an attack from that weapon... but it wasn't like he had the luxury of only watching out for one attack to come.

Crik.

The plastic spork scratched against his teeth as James bit down on the edge of it. Someone was going to have to make a move here or nothing would get done other than him standing there with a clenched fist in his pocket and a disposable utensil in his mouth.

NOM NOM TENSION.

Well... it was now or never.

It would take three steps to close the distance if he rushed - when he rushed - and probably a full second a little under a second just to get himself there. That wouldn't be fast enough at all to catch the dragon if he had his sword out, but that was where he was in luck. No, a second would be more than enough if that was all that he was concerned about beating.

He did just that. Three steps in a second would close the ten feet as he pulled back his right fist to his hip; leaving his left hand in the pocket but instead pulling it back when he stepped in to throw his right shoulder forward a little further.

"Chin!" he suddenly shouted, snapping forward his fist on the last step to throw a rising right cross at the dragon's jaw.

So much for playing it safe.

[ 1/10 ]

EDIT: Since there's no reply yet, I changed the overestimation of time to what we talked about last night.

The punch caught nothing but air when it whiffed past the dragon's face without making contact - something that had been completely expected from the start, but was still unwelcome to see. He'd hoped his little shout would catch the dragon off-guard, but instead he'd just gotten his hand grabbed out of the air for all his trouble. It seemed like announcing where you were about to attack was a pretty shitty idea after all. Go figure on that one.

All he could really do was go with it as best he could. The dragon stepped around to his side suddenly and he knew that something was just plain bad about the situation he'd gotten himself into. He didn't have time to think about what to do from here on out in a situation like this, all he had time to do was react and that was what he did. He jerked his arm down across his stomach in response to the grab, it didn't matter if the jerk wrenched his arm from the dragon's grip or not because as long as he made the movement it would throw off the dragon's balance a little. After that, he just put forward his shoulder and rushed with as much strength as he could manage out of his legs to drive square into the other fighter.

Right about then something hit him. He hadn't seen it coming at all but he knew what it was immediately from the sudden pain in his hip. Instead of charging into the dragon he'd ended up charging straight into a kick. Whether or not luck was on his side was still questionable though, because even though he had broken the motion of the leg by slamming his body into it just above the knee he had still taken a heavy strike to the hip that caused his leg to buckle momentarily. The result of that being that rather than shoving the dragon back with a shoulder charge he'd only ended up falling forward; only stopping when he collided with a wall of chainmail.

"Ow. ********> SPLEEN!" Feeling rather thick-headed today about his decision to shout, James went to make good on his promise by pulling his left hand out of his pocket and swinging it in for a sudden strike to Ryugi's lowest right rib. He'd been hoping that keeping his hand in that pocket for a little longer would confuse the dragon into thinking he had some sort of trick up his sleeve... who knew if it had worked or not? The sword was still sheathed, but James hadn't noticed any fixation of Ryugi's attention on what he couldn't see. Well, turned out that playing man-of-mystery was a bust because he kind of needed that other hand right now for some NOM NOM FISTICUFFS.

As it turns out, the trick up his sleeve was actually a set of brass knuckles up his pocket. Surprise! A heavy piece of unforgiving brass was not the most favorable thing to introduce to one of the most shallow bones in the body.

[ 2/10 ]

Now that was definitely putting the cart before the horse.

Ryugi had put his hand on the hilt of Ragnarok at the beginning of their little squabble and kept it there until now. It wasn't a bluff, clearly the dragon had every intent of using the weapon when he was ready to... but he hadn't yet. He had hesitated and he had put it off because he wasn't ready to use it. In the end, where that got him was leaving out one important step in the process: drawing his sword.

One second. That was the amount of time James had counted on with his first attack, not because he wasn't confident in his ability to charge the dragon or to do something about the sword once he got close enough but because he was confident that one second was as much time as he had in order for the dragon to draw, turn, and attack with the sword.

Back then if anyone would have asked him he would have called it a gamble, but now that he was already this close it meant that he had one second from when the dragon moved his sword arm until he would be struck.

"FACE!"

After slamming into Ryugi's ribs James quickly cocked his left hand and threw it up at the dragon's right cheekbone without any hesitation. Whether or not the swordsman got a kiss from the knuckles James would immediately grab a fistful of the thick scarf around his neck, twist his fist to tighten the grip as much as he could, and throw his elbow up - which had nothing to do with attacking at all, it was just that when his elbow went up his hand would go down, and when his hand went down he'd drag Kazamaru's face down with it, and when Kazamaru's face came down James would jump up on his toes and use the slack in his one-size-too-large overcoat to slam the crest of his forehead into the underside of the dragon-man's firebreather nose with what little wiggle room he had left. NOM NOM SHORT GUY [Kazamaru at 6' 0" vs James at 5' 8"].

One second. It looked like his time was up... except Ryugi wouldn't be able to bring the sword down with his right arm as long as James had his elbow wedged under there. It would impede the progress of the arm at the very least, making his hilt smash hurt about as much as a can of soda chucked at his head.

What was left? His right was left. No longer held onto by Kazamaru's left hand, his right swept back the right side of his overcoat and grabbed a handle at his hip.

[ 3/10 ]

'Aw, hell,' were the words that crossed James' mind when his attack hit a snag in the line. Sure, the punch connected but it wasn't a clean hit and he knew it right away by the fact that there was no impact shock running up his arm from hitting that concrete skull. Likewise he managed to grab a firm hold onto the dragon but a sudden shove just as he was about to throw the second part of his attack not only threw off his aim but threw him back a good distance as well.

With a fist full of scarf and a gauntlet grappling his collar he was suddenly jerked back to standoff distance by the swordsman. Particularly, it was an outright horrible place to be now that the dragon had drawn his sword and -

"s**t!"

Goddamn swordsmen... because he was jerked off to arm's length by Ryugi there was no way that James could block the dragon's right arm from coming down the way that he had just tried to. The sword was already swinging in and even by letting go of the scarf and trying to block the arm he just couldn't beat the dragon in terms of pure strength. The sword cut in sharply towards his side and struck with the edge just above his hip; easily tearing through the coat fabric and... stopping.

James stumbled to the right for one step but immediately wrapped his left arm as far around Ryugi's right as he could to prevent a repeat of what had just happened. What had just happened? Was James Black secretly the man of steel, invulnerable to conventional weapons and the last scion of a distant star? Hell no. The aching pain of having a steel rod slammed into his side was proof enough that James was no superman, it had been a lucky block with the metal baton hanging at his left side that had kept him in one piece for now. Sheathed weapon block no jutsu.

"K-l-" James choked on his words thanks to the sudden pain in his side, but he couldn't let this opportunity pass by. If he let the dragon continue to throw him around like he just had there wasn't much chance of him getting out of this in one piece. He'd grabbed onto Kazamaru's sword arm but that likely wouldn't last another half second. His right hand pulled the handle from his belt and then he threw his arm over the one that was grabbing his collar to support himself for his next move.

"FACE!" he shouted again without hesitation; suddenly kicking out hard with his right leg at the back of the dragon's left knee. Being held out to the side like he was the angle was pretty good, if he could force the knee to buckle he could use his weight on the dragon's arm to pull him down - either to the ground or onto the knee. Then he could use the reach he would gain from turning his shoulders to overcome their difference in arm length and swing down at the dragon's forehead with... a handle.

That was right, the handle that he had grabbed from his belt was just a handle, with nothing sticking out from it. James would strike with the edge of it at the dragon's forehead in an attempt to dig it in above the forehead protector that was being worn and push it down over the other fighter's eyes.

NOM NOM BLINDFOLD.

[edit] [ 4/10 ]

[edit 2] Apparently Ryugi did not have a forehead protector. In that case, let's call it a slug to the head with the end of the handle.

He'd already said it.

He did it already, just now.

He wasn't going to say it again.

Kazamaru ripped him back from the arm's length he had been at just like he had been trying to avoid having done to him. The fact that he had a pale-face dragon barreling headfirst in his direction right now was more than enough evidence that he had done a s**t job at that... and there really wasn't much he could do other than grit his teeth and take it like a man. In the -

Quote: "FACE!"

Crack.

James put his head down and swung for whatever there was to swing for. The forehead was the thickest part of the skull getting hit in anywhere other than that by the dragon would just make matters worse than they already were. He was sure that his vision had blacked out for an instant, even though his eyes closed just before the impact he was sure of it by the piercing ache that shot right to the back of his head when they collided. There was no way he could stand up physically so his head was completely blown back by the hit and he would have fallen backwards immediately if it hadn't been for the hand that was tenaciously still holding on to his collar.

He wasn't sure if it was just the sound of what he was thinking echoing in his head or if he were actually saying it, but as drops of blood from a split cut on his forehead ran down the side of his nose James muttered one long consonant and resolved that he would not fall down.

His side ached as left leg stumbled backwards to catch himself.

"Fffffff-" He would not fall down.

His left hand let go of the dragon's sword arm and reached forward for something to grab onto.

"Fffffff-" He would not fall down.

He grabbed a fistful of hair from the top of the dragon's head and pulled down on it as sharply and hard as he could, using that hold to drag himself back up onto his feet before his noodle legs got the better of him.

"Fffffff-" It was time to stop p***y-footing around.

"[Strength came back to him in an instant and the flood of blinding pain in his head subsided into a dull ache as James' eyes shot open and he shook off the effects of the blow. That was enough of this s**t, it was time to go. His right arm pulled up just a little and with grim determination James pressed the release on the switchblade and slammed the knife straight into the dragon's forearm. It didn't matter if the chainmail stopped it from going in deep, but as long as it pierced the armor James would continue to grind it into the wound with all of his strength until it was deep enough for him to tear that hand off of him by force.

Jerking the dragon's head off to the opposite side by the hair James shoved the heel of his hand against the swordsman's forehead to shove him off and then did the same by throwing up his right leg and kicking out at whatever the hell piece of solid dragon he could land on; chest, gut, hip, thigh. It didn't matter as long as he threw the cold-blooded son-of-an-egg off of him and tore that hand away from his collar.

If it worked... hell, he was getting out of this open field bullshit. Forget the knife, he'd just leave it jammed into the arm if that was what it took to loosen that grip. There was a picnic table less than a dozen meters to the right, he'd take what little time he might gain in order to run up the bench and to the far side of the table for some NOM NOM HIGH GROUND.

"Ah... st... arm, chest, whatever. ****** it."

[ 5/10 ]](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hgsw5Hg0Ag)

If James had been in the state of mind to mutter something like 'fukkin hell' at the moment he felt and heard the knife scratch lengthways down the side of a piece of solid metal he would have. Instead he had been slightly dazed and focused enough on getting that arm off of him that he didn't have time to stop and think about what would happen if the knife didn't penetrate - no, rather he was prepared to just slash his own clothes at that point and rip away by force.

He kicked, he shoved, but he didn't get much as the dragon disengaged readily and James ended up stumbling over backwards for all of his efforts; dropping onto his elbow in the grass and picking himself up immediately to start a run in the opposite direction before he was even fully off of the ground yet. Why? A ******** sword shooting fire at him, that was why.

"Goddamn-" the man grumbled to himself as he grabbed the back of his collar with his left hand and pulled the neck of the coat up to the back of his head, "-dragons!" The fire washed over him but he just kept running; feeling the heat on his back from it but emerging unscathed as the fires died down. Hot, sweating, lightly singed, but unhurt.

Honestly, he had a serious ****** problem with dragons... or maybe it was that dragons had a serious ****** problem with him. Either way, he wasn't going to make the same mistake a third time.

Quote: James' favorite piece of clothing is his black overcoat, in which he has added a few extra pockets to the inner lining so that he can hold various small items within easy reach. Having learned a thing or two after repeated run-ins with , James makes sure that his tailor has the coats made out of flame-retardant material.

As soon as he reached the table that was a short distance away from where they had been scuffling James ran up the bench and to the tabletop; knocking aside bags of chips and bowls of NOM NOM COLESLAW as he skittered to a short stop on the red-painted wood.

Huff. Puff. "Right." Looking back at the swordsman who was standing ready to continue the fight, the first thing that James did was drop to a knee on the table and plunge his left hand into the icy water in an open cooler. Even if the fire hadn't caught him, he'd have a burn on his fingers from the metal and that was just... well... utter s**t.

Blood ran down to his chin from his forehead, mixed with perspiration from both the heat and the exertion. It hadn't been a long fight but the effort he'd put in so far was more than a simple workout. Finally, he just grabbed the cooler in both hands and dumped it straight onto his head in a torrent of cool refreshment before slamming the empty plastic container on the table in front of him. Ice on the back of his neck was helping clear his head from that slam just a second ago.

"Okay buddy," he said, slowly catching his breath. "Round two."

And he grabbed a brown paper sack full of grilling supplies that was sitting beside the table.

[ 6/10 ]

[edit] Forgot the nom.

If he had time to prepare that was awesome because he was going to need to squeeze every bit of advantage out of this situation that he could in order to cover for their difference in ability. He closed the swichblade and slipped the knuckles off his fingers, dropping both into his pockets for now. Dripping with ice water, James rifled through the bag he had just grabbed...

A spatula, spit fork, tongs, wire brush, lighter fluid, Sunday newspaper, box of matches. He was sure he remembered there being a bag of charcoal briquettes beside the table as well, and a lit grill not too far away that the nearby spectators had backed away from when James ran over. Even a constricting circle of people wanting to watch was smart enough not to get too close, after all... most of them, anyways. With that and the rest of what was around here, something could work.

"Yeah, that'll do," he said to himself as he watched the dragon sling his sword leisurely over his shoulder and walk closer. It sure as hell wasn't a shotgun, but he could make due with what he had here. Particularly -

James grabbed the can of lighter fluid and the spit fork and set them on the edge of the table. He backed up off the table and pulled the bag of charcoal up to the bench. And a few seconds to grab the edge of a large flannel picnic blanket that had been laid out on the grass granted him what looked like a dingy knockoff of a matador cape.

Well, right about now Ryugi should be showing up at the other end of the table if his pace kept constant. Rolling the ground cloth once and tossing it onto the table, James slammed both of his hands down on the edge and stared across the length of the table at the NOM NOM BIG TROUBLE.

"Welcome to the party, can I get you-" His left hand, a bottle of Samuel Jackson Lite, and a flying beverage at the dragon's forehead. "-a drink?"

He grabbed the lighter fluid with his left hand immediately after.

[ 7/10 ]

"That's a shame-" was all that James managed to get out before the table flipped up on end and he practically ducked to avoid the flying debris from off of it. It wasn't something he hadn't been expecting... hell, he'd considered doing it himself if he had thought he'd have been able to do it fast enough for it to be effective. The first thing he did when the table went up was to slam his right shoulder against the tabletop in order to slow it down. What the dragon could do with one arm it took his entire body to stop, but in doing so he made a wall between the two of them for a few seconds.

Hell if this wasn't going to suck if it didn't turn out well, but without doing something drastic there was no way he'd be able to make up for their difference in ability. It was because he needed something too insane to possibly work that James squeezed in the can of lighter fluid and sprayed a volume of it into his mouth before getting the hell out of there. God, the stuff was bitter as ********. Throwing the blanket over his left arm James spun to the left just as the table finally started to go all the way over and snagged the bag of charcoal briquettes off of the ground as he ran out.

If Ryugi were on guard for sudden movements then this one would be pretty much a red flag. As soon as he stepped around the side James slung the 30 lb paper sack at the dragon's chest, nearly fell onto the ground from the swing but caught himself with his now free right hand, and then rushed in after the bag to close the distance between them once again.

It's time to play with some NOM NOM FIRE.

[ 8/10 ]

He'd already wasted too much time by stumbling like that, but it was hard for him to keep his course straight when slinging around that weight when his right leg was already bruised up from ramming into the dragon's leg earlier. Sure, a little bit of adrenaline and the fact that he didn't have time to worry about it made the ache a non-issue but the fact that his leg didn't want to support weight the same way that it normally did was a pain in the... leg.

By the time he got back to his feet the dragon had already avoided the bag and was ready to respond; it seemed like his little slip up had cost him his opportunity to capitalize on the dodge they both knew was coming, and to top it all off he still hadn't gone to his pocket for the -

Quote: Adamant Fireball – Basic fireball attack about the size of a soft ball, made of compressed flame energy for a bigger blast, usually medium damage consisting of 1st to 2nd degree burns on a target. Considered "dumb" projectiles.

• there wasn't time to grab anything now. He couldn't stop, slow down, or even hesitate for a second or he was toast. The only thing that was left was to charge straight through. If he didn't have time to grab a tool with his right arm then he didn't need his arm anymore! With that determination his right arm shot up in front of him as he rushed forward and plowed his elbow straight into the fireball as it came in and then: burst!

The Adamant Fireball was triggered to explode as soon as it came into contact with any solid object. He instantly felt his arm go numb from the force of the explosion, so much that he didn't even feel the fire that washed over the back of his hand until it spilled out over his arm to crash against him. His coat was made not to be flammable but everything had a limit; even though it wasn't burned the sleeve was singed and the synthetic fabric began to melt under the heat. The sensation on his arm was like he had just grabbed a towel that had been drying too close to the fire - painful, but not dangerous yet. His hand wasn't lucky enough to share the same protection, and he received a hot water burn for his trouble.

When the fire washed over his arm that as protecting his face it passed over his shoulders, collided with his chest, and turned the water that he had dumped onto himself into steam as it, rather than his body, absorbed the heat from the fire.

His arm dropped as soon as it smashed into the fireball - or maybe it had just gone numb and fallen - and James breathed a sigh of relief.

...well... not a sigh.

From Ryugi's perspective he would see the man in front of him charge boldly into the projectile and be consumed by the blast as it washed over him; and only a moment later the fire reflected back at him in a sudden cloud as James blew the lighter fluid he had imbibed into the tail end of the flames in front of him. The effect was a flaming cloud erupting from the fireball's blast that was big enough to consume the dragon's upper body entirely in it... and he likely had absolutely no idea what had just happened.

There was no magic, no power, or no energy involved in it. Ryugi had the ability to sense power but the only thing it would tell him is that his fireball had just burst. There was nothing magical about chemical flames, James had just borrowed the heat from the dragon fire to ignite it because he hadn't had time to reach for his lighter.

Sight, smell, sound, magic sense. All of these things would be blocked out for an instant as the cloud of fire covered the dragon's vision and an instant later a man covered in steam plowed out of it in a flying tackle at the swordsman's left shoulder.

"Firebreathing sunnova b***h!" was the only thing James managed to get out with his remaining breath as he threw a fireball made from the wadded cloth into the dragon's face and slammed into his body at a dead sprint. Thick cloth like that usually doesn't burn easily but it certainly does when someone's been soaking it with lighter fluid for the last few seconds.

Unless Kazamaru saw it coming then the tackle would take both of them to the ground behind him with his face enveloped by a burning blindfold.

NOM NOM BLINDFOLD v2.0.

[ 9/10 ]

Well that was a shitty idea, all-around.

Two blind and deaf men charge into a room from opposite sides, neither of them having any idea where the other is aside from knowing how far apart they were when all hell broke loose.

Where did this idea go wrong? Somewhere along the line a blind man was supposed to leap into the arms of a stationary object, at the same time at some other point on the line a blind man was trying to go low for the legs of something that was somewhere at some distance in front of him. The problem with the situation at hand was that... well... frankly...

They can't see s**t.

Somewhere in the midst of that ball of smoke and fire a blind man was getting ready to jump right as a blind dragon appeared in front of him in a crouch. Process A collided with Process B in a NOM NOM UNNATURAL SYNERGY.

Beepbeepbeep!

FWOP!

What broke the silence afterward was a chirp like a digital watch going off, the FIGHTERs which had been given to them sounded their alarm that the time for the fight was up... and about ten feet away a flaming cloth flopped onto the grass with a heavy thud.

Spectators drew in closer, tightening the circle around the spectacle that had greeted their eyes as soon as the instant of flame that had filled the air had subsided; murmuring things between themselves and cocking their heads sideways in sheer disbelief at what they were seeing.

"That's -"

"A little -"

"...pathetic."

In the middle of a ring of smoking grass were the two fighters displaying their uncanny abilities of uncoordination.

• Ryugi, having stumbled onto his knees while holding Ragnarok in front of him - and with his neck craned backwards because James' knee was planted in his face.

• James, with his face planted in the grass on the other side of the dragon and a shallow gash across his right thigh from colliding with the edge of the sword and tripping over it - still steaming slightly from the water baking out of his clothes.

"Damn," said one man in a 'kiss the cook' apron who was grilling dogs just beyond the circle of spectators that had formed, "that's just embarrassing."

Twitch.

[ 10/10 ]

"Ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff-"

James pressed his hands into the grass after a moment of being dazed by the fall, and dig his forehead out of the ground.

"fffff- fffff- fffff- ffffaaaaaaawkin' hell that's nasty! GOD."

Pulling himself up on his hands and knees James wiped the blades of grass that had stuck to his forehead off with a swipe of his left hand and spit on the ground, then scrubbed the inside of his mouth with his tongue and spit again... harder.

"Aww, hell." He continued to mutter as he turned around, pushing himself up to his feet by pressing his arm on his left leg, and pulled a beer out of the grass beside the overturned picnic table. It fizzed horribly as soon as he opened it but after taking a mouthful he just swished it around for a few seconds and then spat again. NOM NOM BEER.

Lighter fluid was a horrible tasting chemical.

"Guh..."

Shaking out his aches and pains, James pounded what was left in the beer before crushing the can in hand and tossing it among the rest of the destroyed contents of the overturned table. He patted down his chest and sides until he found the right pocket and grabbed a lighter out of it; American flag on one side and "G.I. Joe" on the other. On the other side he pulled out a steel cigar case and claimed one of them for himself; biting down on the end as he walked off with a limp in his right leg. He looked a little bit like hell after that; a cut on his forehead, slice in his pant leg and the side of his coat, holes burned in his shirt, his right hand and lower lip scalded from the dragon's and his respective fireballs. And hell... he had coleslaw on his shoe.

"Ey. 'old up," he muttered with the cigar between his teeth, lighting it as he walked and then dropping the lighter into his pocket again.

"You got one hell of a hard head, you know that?" It didn't really sound like a compliment the way that it came out. Regardless, James held out the cigar case and offered up. They were done here, after all. Somebody had to smoke to victory.

"I ain't got nuttin' agains ya," James said from behind the cigar; not in any hurry to use his right hand for little things like that, "yer kind jus' keep tryin' ta burn me an' I don' really care fer dat too much."

Puff puff, smoke smoke. Now where the hell was Ebris? James thought he'd seen the b*****d around here somewhere.

HRRRRRRRRRRRRRN-K!

Oddly enough, a car drove just crashed through the trees in the park. Immediately after a viking jumped out, grabbed Ryugi, and abducted him.