Paradox Clock Room

Stage11: Infinite Clocktower

Paradox Clock Room

Time is just a construct. Open your mind.

In the top of the tower right behind the clock face there is a room. This room is ordinary, no special features what so ever. Until you start to fight. The fighters will immediately find themselves separated and in another time and place all together. Fighting pairs will find themselves in one of three temporal pockets.

Migrant Basement: Your surrounded by the cheering forms of those who took the boat to this great city to find a better life. Wooden beams support the dirty bar above, the floor is covered in caked blood. The way people are dressed suggests this is circa 1860

Summer of 69: Suddenly you're in an open field, there's a band playing in the distance, and quite a few VW buses. While you can see the hundreds stretched out celebrating free love and peace, those that surround you must be on some crazy s**t. They're ready to see some bloodlust.

Shougun Surprise: You're now in the beautiful throne room of the feudal lord of some unspecified East Asian country. He's surrounded by his consorts and most trusted advisers. They want a show, and you best deliver. After all, best not to upset the lord.

Terrain

General - See individual descriptions.

Weapons - Just the environments.

Bonus Effects - Three effects should be noted:

1) Temporal Pockets are individual, that means no strikers this match.

2) Because of that all matches can start on day one.

3) You've changed too. Somehow you're wearing period costume.

This sucked. Last round, she had to resort to the television to see the fights that went crashing through an entire mansion because she could not watch it live from her position in the tree she was in during Lu Bu's last round. She felt anger boil up within her, but kept it back for the sake of good sportsmanship. At least the team won. Now, Tres will just have to do it again. This time, Roja was going to make sure she was there to see it. The luchador was climbing up the side of the tower so she can make sure she became a spectator of this fight, catching ledges and other gripping places. She nearly missed her grip at one point, but was able to hold on long enough to pull herself back up and continue up the tower of time.

She finally arrived at the clock painted onto the front of the tower at its top, climbing onto the large minute hand, then finally passing through an open window pane onto the many gears and gadgets that made the clock work. She crawled through a few nooks until she stopped, gazing down onto the scene...then suddenly everything warped in her vision.

"Eeeeeh?!"

Everything twisted and mingled in multicolors around her, the support of a beam beneath her giving out to have her fall through a void of nothingness.

"W-what is going on?!"

She moved her body frantically around in this space, but was unable to find anything to stop her. She was falling fast, so all she could do was brace for any impact that was going to happen. Her back soon hit solidly into something as her eyes were closed tight, landing harshly. And then the weirdest sound reached her ears. She was hearing a crowd and an electric guitar being played in the background. She quickly sat up where she was standing, only to find herself in a very different place than the clock tower. It was sunny outside, people were dancing, a concert was going on out in the distance, and she could have sworn she just saw Tres dancing in a 70s get-up.

Wait, that was Tres! She quickly stood up to her feet, using her hands to wipe the dirt off her rear, but they stopped when she felt something different about them. She did not feel the tights that were worn against her body. Instead, she felt something like pants instead, her hands going into her new back pockets. She looked at herself, soon to see that she was also wearing clothes of this era. She had on flare jeans with red high heels, and a sleeveless shirt with a cleavage hole similar to her costume, only in the form of a regular top. She brought her hands up to her head and found that her mask was not on her face. In fact, a bandana was worn around her head instead, red with pictures of flowers on it. And her black hair was wild and long like any other hippie.

"No way..."

Roja could not do much but simply enjoy this while she can. It looked like she was Rachel Mars for the time being, her unmasked identity. She folded her arms and gave a weird expression. Something smelled funny. She could have sworn she had smelled it before.

"Tch."

La Caballero Roja Wrote:

"No way..."

Roja could not do much but simply enjoy this while she can. It looked like she was Rachel Mars for the time being, her unmasked identity. She folded her arms and gave a weird expression. Something smelled funny. She could have sworn she had smelled it before.

"Tch."

I should have slayed you!

Tres was not one to hold the spirit of love to one particular person. He changed dance partners constantly, each one becoming more gratuitous than the next. Eventually it came down to something more like foreplay with each girl and the smell dirt and old sex coated his hyper masculine frame. Eventually he got a girl who's dress matched the era but was more conservative than what he had quickly grown used to. He looked the girl in the eye as he made his way over to her and he recognized her.

'Roja'

He knew her secret identity, having known her sense they were kids.

"Come on baby, whats with all these clothes. You got to let yourself free...", he pretended that he didn't know who she was, but the grin on his face gave it away. He would reach for her shirt, grabbing into that cleavage hole in an attempt to pull it off.

Tres seemed like he belonged in this era. The tune of Foxy Lady played in the background and matched the situation perfectly.

Like that, Dragon last week!

As usual, Song had been busy over thinking things. And because of it, it'd taken her longer than usual to notice the alert on her fighter. So much so, that she ended up not getting there early as she liked, you know, to decide who'd be fighting who with her team mates and the other captain.

She'd barely had time to get into the armor before it was time to leave for the clock tower....

...and yet, when she arrived and stepped through the door, she found she had all the time in the world. First she saw Kain disappear, and unless she missed something happening, Whoever showed up next of her own team would be fighting as well. There'd be no strategy involved whatsoever.

But she had her own concerns...

A feeling she'd felt before overcame her, the lightheadedness, the swimming of vision...

...But instead of an endless void, Song found herself staring at a man in oriental feudal garb, surrounded by a harem of women as well as advisers. Song couldn't help but make a comparison to Dr. Shun Akimoto with his attitiude before she tried to remember everything that Mei Lee's Mother has told her.

Bowing low to the man obviously in charge, she then saw something worse. Her clothing had changed. She was now dressed in a blue qipao, and wearing the slippers that the orient was basically famous for. Despite the restrictiveness of dress, she could still feel the armor beneath, but it had changed somehow. Weird.

Glancing up, Song looked at the harem and puzzled at the oddities and changes. But the women were giggling at her? On reaction, Song reached up to her face, barely touching the corner of her eye...and came back with a small dot of white makeup. Joy. A little bit further up....and she touch hair that was distinctly not hers. She suddenly had a mental image of how she looked and frowned. With her build not being tiny and slim, they thought she was a guy playing the part of a female.

A deep sigh, but there was nothing that could be done, she raised from her bow, and waited for her opponent. After all, the festivities couldn't start without him. At least she still had her saber at one side, and the whip at the other. Now if she could just place what had changed about her armor.

"...the room is empty?"

Damon's head popped through a doorway into an empty room behind the giant clockface, the look on his face showing his mixed emotions. Shrugging off the strange fact that a tournament known for it's exotic fighting arenas would pick a dry place like this, Damon walked right on into the room. It was dark for the most part with only a few bands of light pouring through the openings of the clock, there didn't seem to be any indication that this room was rigged - maybe they had decided to see how creative the fighters could get when given--

A spark of electricity suddenly shot through Damon's entire body, causing him to shudder all over.

"What the hell?"

Before he could grasp the nature of the situation the room around him suddenly distorted as though it were being crumpled up into a vortex. All sound was drowned out by the sudden loud ticking of a clock, Damon's only respite from the boggling situation was to cover his ears and close his eyes. The room warped all around him, mirror images flashing through the haze of broken reality showing hippies, samurai and depictions of eras long since past. There was no feeling other than one of complete and total displacement.

And then it was over.

When Damon finally gathered his composure new things flooded his senses in a wave. First and foremost being a smell like rust and decaying wood. The taste of dust was thick in the air - and oh the sounds, they were hollers of grown men, all drunken to some degree. Everything was dark for the most part, only a few lanterns provided the light in this dank little pit. It was enough that Damon could see first the thick coats of crimson on the ground, and then, even more surprising, the clothes that he was wearing. His normal white shirt and jeans had been replaced by a saggy beige cotton shirt that hung loosely from his body and a pair of dark brown cotton pants that ended with black workmans boots.

"Tha hell is going on?"

Then his eyes finally rested upon a prominent figure standing at the other end of the crowd of people. He was dressed in what looked like an old suit and wore a top hat and goatee like a real devil. Oh wait.

His face was clearly familiar, enough that Damon spoke without thinking, "Kain?"

"Kain?"

...?

He looked at his caller and was struck with familiarity.

"Damon..."

His prelim opponent. It'd never finished, they were just getting started and the time was up. All of this was known to the outside world but no thoughts registered to the Devil, he just reacted and it would be like they never stopped..

Picking up from where they left off, Kain, immediately raised his right arm that held his axe, the weight of it seemed to dissipate in this strange place, and he swung it toward Damon's left shoulder. He'd see his weapon sail towards his opponent but....but....that didn't look like an axe....

Seemed the clock tower had other plans for the Devil and that a walking cane in his hand was more appropriate to his costume.

[ 1860's Brawl: Kain Vs. Damon - 1]

Confusion and disorientation gave way to a sudden rush of adrenaline as Kain swiftly approached, brandishing a walking cane in his right hand and swinging it down hard towards Damon's left shoulder. "Seems you want to start where we--"

WHACK

In a quick motion Damon brought his left arm up halfway and caught the brunt of the cane in his left hand just inches before it touched his shoulder, "LEFT OFF!"

Immediately following those words Damon raised up on the ball of his right foot and kicked his left foot hard towards Kain's upper right shin, aiming to knock the devils leg out from under him and drop him into a kneel.

If Kain went down, Damon would step back and violently yank the cane out of his grasp. That would give him a weapon to use against his opponent if he came charging, and knowing Kain's personality, that's exactly what the wild devil would do. Or so Damon was expecting.

Despite the change in atmosphere that sorta off set Damon, he knew this was sure to be one awesome fight!

[Kain vs Damon] 1

Kain had caught onto the attack and raised his right leg up causing Damon's foot to sail under the limb and meet the floor with a nice stomp. And then Kain's foot promptly stomped down on top of his in relation, though that wouldn't do much as Damon was wearing work boots.

Now they were even closer together, almost right up in each others faces, exactly the distance a brawl should bring too bloodthirsty fighters.

Loosening his grip momentarily on the shaft of the cane, Damon ran his hand forward and tucked down while pushing off his right foot. The left hook would glide just over Damon's neck, the opening revealing itself like the light at the end of the tunnel. Now was his chance!

His right arm chambered and in one hard motion Damon pumped his shoulder into a hard right uppercut right into Kain's stomach while moving into Kain's body. Damon's attack was sure to leave his opponent winded knock him backwards, probably even knock him down because his balance wouldn't be that great with him standing on Damon's foot.

The hit, assuming it connected, would cause the crowd to get even more riled up. This was what they'd come here to see, and it could only be made better if there was some blood. Nothing says bloodsport... well... like blood. Damon intended to deliver that, for sure. Hopefully Kain would have the same mentality fueled once he felt the PAIN.

[Kain vs Damon] 2

As Damon raised up after landing his punch he felt the agonizing bite of the devils nails sinking into his shoulders. Warm blood was quick to flow from the newly made wounds staining his already dirty looking cotton shirt with red. It was obvious that Kain was trying to hold him down, but just the strength in his arms wasn't going to be enough to completely subdue Damon, and he'd manage to raise up about halfway so that his head was level with Kain's chest.

His instinctive reaction was to look up at Kain with fire in his eyes and take advantage of the situation. If Kain wasn't using his arms and off-balancing himself even more with a knee strike, Damon had a huge opening - his arms would shoot up between Kain's and his hands aim to grasp the sides of the devils face, and from there his thumbs would violently plunge deep into the devils eye-sockets!

Kain would feel the pain from that one no doubt, and it would trump the feeling of his knee slamming into Damon's stomach as they tumbled down towards the ground.

Once on the ground Damon would keep his grasp on Kain's head with his left hand while using his right hand to throw a series of violent punches to smash in Kain's nose. The rush of adrenaline would be enough to stave off the gut wrenching soreness and stinging sensation in his shoulders for several minutes.

As if that wasn't enough though, Damon began to focus his psychic power by using his desire for battle as a medium. For the moment his powers would remain on mental standby. Damon, though focused on the battle, was experienced enough to keep his wits about him - enough so that he remembered to be cautious of being in grappling situations with a fire devil that like to immolate himself.

The crowd didn't understand the powers of either, and were thrown into a frenzy be the display of ULTRAVIOLENCE.

..they had no idea what violence was... but they'd get a taste soon enough.

[Kain vs Damon] 3

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

He felt the warm flow of blood on his fingers and delighted that he drew first blood. Short lived as it was, Kain felt Damon's arms move to motion and fly up through his own. By natural reaction to things moving to your face would be to send as far as possible from groping things. Mister grabby hands would catch the corner of Kain's eyes before he'd be reeling back his head.

Thing was, before Damon's thumbs did their damage his hands would have been wrapped around the sides of Kain's face. If Kain was reeling his head backwards as Damon's thumbs came in, he would find his head caught and the eye gouge would almost certainly go through and badly injure the pupils. Not to say that the full extent of the damage would be done however, because of Kain moving his head back he'd escape a having his eyes completely impaled. By throwing his head back he would most likely be putting himself in an even worse position though.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

And that forced the eye bleeding creature to tumble down away from Damon's grasp, to which he'd crash amongst the ratty table setting. Knocking a lamp as he fell, the basement carried a festival of dancing shadows from the swinging light, chairs collapsing, glasses and mugs to the floor and his back against a titled table top...who couldn't love it?

The end result of the flow of events would put Kain and Damon tumbling backwards into some tables and chairs, given that Kain had thrown his knee strike while Damon was rushing in for an attack. Lets not forget him still standing on Damon's foot - total lack of balance here.

CRAASSHH

Kain, head reeling back into it and all, would find himself smashing through the table first with Damon still pretty latched onto him. Drinks and lanterns and scrambling people all flew away from the scene. When they came to rest Damon would be on top of Kain in a pile of what used to be an old wooden table. Damon's right hand would be free of the devils head and he'd be trying to punch down to break Kain's nose.

Quote: Kain had enough of that and slashed upwards to claw across the right side of Damon's neck and face before he'd get a solid punch, that was originally meant for his nose, to jaw.

"PUH!"

Unfortunately Damon wouldn't get the chance, because as soon as he cocked his fist back he caught sight of Kain's claws coming for a mad slash at his neck. The devil was an animalistic fighter, Damon knew that all too well. He knew Kain's game from experience, if that strike hit him in the neck there would be some serious problems. Therefore, instead of throwing his punch down, he swung his hand to the side so that his forearm would take the brunt of the slash and knock the hand back, blood spurting for another new wound.

A precious fraction of a second passed and Damon had to make a choice. Retreat and lose his advantage or press the attack and risk it?

Too late, his nature as a fighter had him already sending his fist back down again into Kain's face just as he slashed again. Damon's fist would most likely it Kain in the nose. Hard. Just as the claw cleaved four nice new red scars into Damon's cheek. More horrible stinging sensations would flood through his head and make his eyes tear up and his nose burn like fire.

Just a claw across the face wasn't going to make the psionic warrior lose his momentum, though. No, he intended to go for another punch into Kain's face, maybe it would throw off Kain's attempt at slashing again? If not, well thems tha breaks.

[Kain vs Damon] 4

Vivi Merquise Wrote:

Her lips pursed as she glanced around at the members of the opposing team, and sure enough, they looked pretty much like dirty hippies too.

"Where are we? Woodstock?" she asked with a little snort, "It 'ardly seems proper to be embarking on a course of bloody violence dressed like a bunch of kids out to protest the Vietnam war..."

I should have slayed you!

The symbol broke from the dirty crowd as soon as the girl asked her question. The super athletically built sex god seemed to have some sort of sway over the people, especially the female population.

"Ahh but this is merely sport maaannn. I do not know you enough to hate you miss...?", he asked her name.

"Lets show those imperialist bastards the meaning of a fair fight. I do not slaughter children in a hail of gun fire but together we will make fair game.", the crowd shouted in agreement. They would begin to form a circle around Tres and her opponent. They would be fighting on a muddy patch of grass. All around him were icons of the hippie culture, some guy smoking some purple haze from a water pipe, people playing there guitars along with Jimi Hendrix, naked women twirling and revelling in there sexual freedom.

Surely this was the greatest generation.

Even the way Tres fought seemed to change based on the Era.

He would take his stance who's lithe and fancy footwork paid homage to Bruce lee. His left lead was forward with his left hand low and his right hand high on guard. His entire body was relaxed yet ready for anything. Tres would move forward to his left outside of her forward line of movement while slowly closing the distance. Every now and then he would brush the tip of his noes with his right hand thumb...

The crowd knew what it meant and they would go wild.

[1/17]

Like that, Dragon last week!

The crash of glass and splintered wood made some of the nearby dwellers scramble upstairs from the brawl that was getting a bit too dangerous from them. Some were goading them on and some were protesting about the damage.

Tears around his left eye and his right sustaining much more damage from the vicious attack, Kain's right hand moving to Damon's left to cease that sonuvabitchin' eyepoke with a thumb to the inside of his wrist. Seeing nothing much from the stars in front of him buy the impact to the table and an eyeball being squished wouldn't matter with his opponent being so close.

He could feel Damon hit his claw attack away and felt his body jerk, presumably for another strike. Both were skilled fighters and opportunity was always sought, exploited, and utilised. That jerk and blur of motion in his left eye told him a punch was coming. The Devil would snap his head to his right, his right hand would push against Damon's left to give more room, though the sudden motion versus reaction response would give the fighter enough time/range to avoid the punch.

Regardless if it smashed into the table behind them didn't matter, Kain's intention was to catch Damon's punching wrist and CHOMP deeply into underarm, hopefully his wrist. He was enraged at the eye tactic and his body burned to release itself completely to something bestial but refrained and fueled himself of fire instead.

There wasn't going to be enough room down here.

[Damon vs. Kain 5 - s**t gon' hit da fan, dawgs.]

Damon's left wrist got a violent shock of pain when Kain stabbed his thumbnail into the wrist. Between the natural instinct of move away from pain and Kain forcefully placing it aside, there was nothing Damon could do about having his hand displaced. That gave Kain ample opportunity to slide his head to the right side just as Damon's right fist came slamming downwards.

WHUCKCRSSSH

The psion's knuckles rebounded violently off a combination of wood and solid ground, sending up a spray of dirt and tiny wood chips, of which some would find their way into Damon's hand as he quickly tried to draw it back towards his chest in a ready position.

However, Kain, obviously fueled by animalistic rage, would have none of that!

Putting those infamous teeth to good use, Kain quickly aimed to snap his jaws down on Damon's wrist as he tried to bring his hand back up. The only saving grace from that nasty attack was that a punch from a mounted position could be drawn back very rapidly. This was not to say that Kain wouldn't get to bite down on something though, instead the inside of Damon's right hand would fall victim to the vicious bite.

"YAAH!"

Damon gritted his teeth hard and winched as blood spurted from the wound up into Kain's nostrils as the sound of two crunching bones echoed in his ears. The damage, from what Damon could gather at the second due to pain, was that his pinky and ring finger had just been broken. The injury he'd gotten from Reinhart on that had had just finished healing too... what a bad tournament his right hand was having...

So now here he was, shallow bleeding cuts all over with his hand trapped in a devils mouth. Even though he had the domination position and had dealt his fair share of damage, a hurt gut and a squished eye, he was at the disadvantage.

That's when a thought hit him, one that could only be conceived by somebody no longer willing to hold back and wracked with a pain like having jagged rocks raked through his flesh.

"So, think you've got me?!"

Using his pent up psychic energy, Damon took a page right out of Kain's book and released and moderately powered psionic blast inside of the devils mouth from his damaged right hand. All the spectators around would see was a flash of light blue electricity, a rippling wave, and a splattering of blood, teeth and most likely fragments of jawbone.

The moment the attack finished, Damon would use the lack thereof of chomping power to remove his hand and rush back to his feet. The shock of having his jaw exploded would definately keep Kain from following through with anything for the moment. Or so Damon was hoping in the back of his mind.

The spectators wouldn't be worrying about that as much as the fact that they'd just witnessed somebodies jaw explode...

[Kain vs Damon] 5

"A pleasure, Tres." Vivi replied with a smile as her steps slid her to the right, his counter kick slamming into the front of her thigh, she stumbled a little and gritted her teeth. The guy had a mean kick, no doubt it could have been nastier if she'd stayed standing still. One thing the Lamia had learned in her last bout however, was never stand still.

Of course then he aimed at her face and she winced, everyone wanted a piece of Vivi's face in this tournament. Well she'd had it. No more. Her right hand shot up in front of her eye his fist slamming into her palm. She quirked a brow as her slender fingers closed around the knuckles of his hand and she gave him a sharp tug toward her, trying to close the distance between them.

"Are you 'igh?" she asked him, genuinely curious. Her question posed, she reached her left hand out, fingers extended like claws, to try and grab a hold of his neck.

[2/17]

"PWELAU"

The crackle of energy, blood, and crimson would mist with permeate the air while Kain swallowed 2 teeth. Regardless that Damon knew of Kain's love for fire he wouldn't be able to neglect that such actions caused some bloodspray and this spray would be enjoying a nice stay on the right of his face, neck, chest and arm.

A broken mandible now dangling, held only to his mouth by blasted flesh gave him a Two-Face like appearance. No more feeling in the left side, the right side of his mouth snarled while shock sent his face to be cushioned by his right arm.

Damon wasn't pulling punches, so, Kain wasn't going to either. He couldn't see straight at the moment but he could still position his right hand fingers inbetween one of Damon's Radius Ulna bone to accompany his already submerging thumb. Mr. Kainer would grip and TWIST for delightful breakage while the Fire Devil would loose an ability HoH hadn't seen yet.

Quote: Homegrown Napalm - His blood magic raises the viscosity and concentrate or internal energies on the expelled liquid, raising it's burning quality. This is Kain's complementary ability to his Blood Mine, this one Burns more than punches and is difficult to extinguish.

The Psion would find much more burning to his body than just shocks of your everyday pain, being covered in a liquid fire that'd threaten severe burns to his surface epidermis and more if it wasn't expelled quickly. Kain may not be able to see but let it be known that it wouldn't deter him from a fight.

By now more of the surrounding rabble would be growing more nervous and more were exiting up the stairs to the bar area, the screams they bellowed, Kain could do without.

[Damon Vs. Kain 6]

Kurokutauwa, kurokutauwa, kurokutauwa!

What was it that Gaians loved about these noisy things? They were pretty to look at when silent, but man were they annoying when not silent. This time she had made sure to follow the rest of her team up to where they were supposed to go since she still didn't know her way around this strange language. When they arrived at the appropriate room she only had a second to admire how uninteresting the place was... before it burst to life.

Visions flashed before her eyes of what she could only describe as levels of hell. First an ecstatic field filled with so much lust and so many colors it was sickening just to look at (though that man over there look strikingly like Tres). The next came as a blood-caked pit of fiendish looking foreigners caught in a twisted lust of their own; and yet again she saw someone who looked amazingly like another teammate.

Then the third vision came, and it was by far the strangest of them all. For at the end of her journey she found herself... home? This room, these people, the atmosphere. It was like waking up from a dream, only to realize you were still dreaming. This could very well have been her castle at one point, but now it was off... subtle differences showing it was still a time other than her own, even if the setting was the same.

Her outfit, on the other hand, had not changed at all. She still adorned a white, flowery kimono tied with a black, flowery obi. Her shoes were still white cloth and the white fingerless gloves still clung to her hands. The delay between rounds had given her enough time to finally have her weapons repaired, and so she held her ornate white staff, carved in the likeness of a chinese dragon, casually in one arm while her white katana remained at her side, fastened by a chord beneath her obi.

Glancing around, she noticed a very important looking man sitting in a very important looking seat surrounded by very unimportant looking people. She also noticed that the only other person out on the floor with her was an odd looking... er.. girl? that seemed similar to the, albeit prettier, harem girls nearby. However, she did appear armed.. was this her opponent? Only time would tell. For now she was still a little dazed and very confused.

Previously, on HoH Wrote:

In his pain, Damon did the only thing he thought he could at the moment - in one swift movement he ripped his cotton shirt over his head and along his right cheek and neck and then down towards his arm. The cotton was pretty good at absorbing liquid so it would wipe away the blood as went along. While one of the more crude measures, it was still going to leave big red blistery splotches where the blood had been. Parts of his neck and face would burn and his right hand would be all but entirely out of commission. Only one thing left for Damon to do - keep it wrapped up in the shirt.

Okay, so despite having managed to actually soak up a good bit of the BLOODFIRE, the fact of the matter was it was a lot more congealed that Damon had initially thought. He'd managed to spread the thin blotches into streaks that, while hurting less, still hurt nonetheless. He wasn't helping his situation very much, and given that, he'd have to resort to a different method to put himself out.

His pain frenzied eyes glanced down to the dirt basement floor for something, anything he could use to alleviate the pain and the burning. Then it hit him, kinda, stop. Drop. And roll. Damon through himself to the ground and desperately began to clump icy cold dirt along the burns in an effort to further thin out the problem. The feeling of the cool dirt on his burns was soothing despite the underlying sting. It would take Damon a good few moments before he finally managed to calm down the pain and get rid of the blood. His face and neck and hand were blistered and bright red with areas of dark brown scattered haphazardly, something Damon wouldn't forget.

In the time it had taken Damon to partially cure himself of the damage that had been inflicted, Kain had unveiled his wings and was resting up against a post. So yeah, one for one, but Damon fully intended to change that. The adrenaline was pumping through his system and fueling his desire to keep going when other, lesser men would just lay there and give up. Pushing himself past the pain as best as he possibly could, Damon got to his feet and once again began to focus his psychic energy. Using it, he lifted up the cane that had been previously dropped and willed it to fly into his (mostly) undamaged left hand.

Despite the fact that a bartender was scoping them fight and wigging the hell out, Damon only paid attention to Kain.

His intentions were clear on what he was going to do.

Damon took a few good steps towards the devil, focusing his psychic power into the cane and around his arm. At the moment he never bothered to consider what the devil might do to him - his attention was only on his own actions and sustaining his own powers.

[Kain vs Damon] 7

And the devil was up up and AWAY!

Some clumps of dirt splattered on Damon, not that it really mattered, and he watched as Kain smashed through the ceiling. Now at what point that seemed like the practical thing to do Damon didn't know... maybe Kain was just eager to make an escape?

Instead of attempting to follow him up through the floor in DYNAMIC ENTRY, you know, because not only would he waste energy but hurt his head, the psion quickly made his way towards the stairway. In several long strides he reached the top of the stairs and glanced down towards the end just in time to see Kain throw a flaming bottle down into the hole he'd made.

Wonderful.

Now then, back to the fight.

His psionic energy stored up even more in his left hand, he quickly began moving towards Kain. Raising the cane he had in his hand up in Kain's direction, he psychokinetically shot it towards the devil like a freakin' missile aimed to penetrate through the devils right shoulder. That's right, Damon was going for the blindspot.

Kain would most likely make out the blurred psion's figure and get the general idea that something was raised in his direction, but from that point out the cane would most likely look to vanish from Damon's hand. Whether or not it hit didn't matter, Damon intended to keep getting closer towards Kain while keeping his psychic energy built up.

There certainly were a lot of empty chairs and tables with full beer mugs and other things left by the patrons that had quickly retreated out the door. Goody.

s**t WUZ 'BOUT TO GIT BROK'd

[Kain vs Damon] 8

Keeping an eye on the threatening looking people in the room was always the best of choices, but unfortunately for this little swordswoman the number of threatening looking people was quite high since pretty much everyone but the girls had swords. No warning, no bow, hardly any sign at all and before she knew it there was a whip wrapping around her arm with an uncomfortable sting. Her Kimono sleeve would take a good deal of the force out of it, but whips still hurt nonetheless.

Saya had always been rather attached to her staff and tended to hold it with her whole arm or wrap it about her in odd poses when not actively using it. It was this little fact that kept her from losing it now.

Then came the issue of strength, and while Saya was not half as weak as she may have looked (swinging swords around since childhood kinda helped build some good muscle, and Iaido was a very endurance building art, after all), Song had the element of surprise and Saya had particularly impressive reaction speed. Instead of resisting Saya let herself get pulled forward, and even added a little boost to it as she quickly covered the gap between them. Whips were dangerous at range, but so much harder to use up close.

Once they were within close combat range Saya slid to a halt, right foot forward, and twisted her body to the right, transferring all the momentum of the dash into a left hook aimed straight for the woman's jaw.

Victory through Sacrifice

Grace + 2 : 2

[Song vs. Saya] 1

Saya's eyes widened as her fist was straight up caught. A full-flight hook like that would hurt more than just the hand with all that momentum. This woman was tough... a fact that would become even more obvious with her next move.

In the meantime Saya's right arm would take motion. With her left hand occupied and her opponent's head coming in, what she needed to do was almost instinctive; Dragonbite! With another twist of her body she brought the head of her staff, still wrapped to her arm and gripped by her hand near the top, in an uppercut to Song's jaw even as her head came down. The head of the metal staff, shaped to the form of a Chinese dragon with mouth ajar and fangs bearing, was aimed to bite straight into Song's neck and chin and hopefully take some hurt out of the oncoming...

CRACK

Heads collided in a forceful blow that the little swordswoman was really not accustomed to. Slashes, cuts, stabs, fine, but she usually did a much better job of protecting her precious head. Saya reeled back in shock as stars danced across her vision, trying desperately to keep focus in case her attack hadn't interrupted a follow-up. Her mind was screaming at her with a very uncomfortable ache and a trickle of blood ran down her brow where the skin had broken on impact.

Victory through Sacrifice

Grace + 2 : 4

[Song vs. Saya] 2

"On my love?" Viviana asked incredulously.

As Tres lifted his right leg to throw his kick at the Lamia, she raised her left leg, and aimed a low inside kick of her own at his right inner thigh. Unlike his, her attack was not designed to be forceful, just to give her an entrance.

As his kick hit her left outer thigh, her kick was just connecting to his lower right inner thigh, her ankle twisted, forming a hook so that the tips of her toes were just digging into the back of his knee. Sure, she was going to have some nasty bruises, but she was inside his guard now, and the Lamia could not want for much more than that. Her arms assisted her attack, moving with lighting speed, the right grasping at his left hip and the left hand pushing down on his right upper thigh, if all went according to plan, thanks to a combination of her own weight, and his balancing on only his left leg, she'd be able to take him down in true Sambo style.

"You're a strange kid, you know that?" She said as she pushed him to the grass below.

[3/17]

Regardless that the missile was a waste of time, he could still cover this area of Damon's coming. Though with, the noise he'd make on his climb to the bar floor, it wouldn't matter if Kain could see or not.

He'd be pivoting on his heel counter clockwise, grasping a chair in his turn and hucking it towards the noise, lucky for our boyo Devil it'd intercept Damon's spearing rod. If it actually broke the rod's path wasn't the matter, Kain's movements would take him out harms way while that chair or its fragments would be clashing with Damon's body.

Kain's spin didn't go with a bit of environmental collateral; stools and glasses clashing to the floor, some just hitting with a thunk and spilling their contents. The grog appealing to the darling raving creature and he licked his lips, wiped his mouth from the running blood.

He was trying to do too much and it was getting to him; the confusion of his tarnish eyesight. So, now what Damon was getting something more than just an animal like man, but a mad dog. A change came over the Abyssal Beast and it didn't seem like this was temporary. The eyes that would fall upon Damon, one mashed and one bloodied, wouldn't hold the laid back easy going creature but his true nature; a Devil.

[Damon vs. Kain 9]

(empty)

[ Damn. Hope you get s**t solved. D: ]

Despite Kain racing forwards, grabbing a weapon, thrusting himself and then folding his wing to make a shield, Damon was left undeterred in his hard chair-jousting motion. Hey, even though Damon wasn't in a mad crazy rush like Kain, he was still pretty psyched up.

CRAAASSH

The edge of the wooden chair would smash right into the bulk of Kain's wing with almost all of Damon's weight and momentum behind it. The weak wood would splinter almost instantly upon contact at that, leaving nothing but jagged sharp parts left to drive the rest of the way into the wing for stabby stabby goodness. If Kain attempted to slap the chair away, he'd most likely find himself shredding his own wing on the chairs ridged protrusions.

"YAAAH!!"

One thought had crossed Damon's mind as he was gearing up to do this; the blood, however, given the weapon, this time Kain's blood wouldn't be spilling on him but instead the chair. So no BLOODFIRE! As for the bottle - the chairs range beat the bottles by a long shot, Damon wouldn't be within reach of glass and would be shielded by the chairs seat and legs anyway.

Damon fought back the urge to unleash the psychic energy he was gathering up, saving them for a time when Kain would open himself up to attack. He was blind, his jaw was shattered, and he was in a frenzy because of the damage - to Damon it wasn't a matter of if Kain opened himself up, but simply when. He wanted to be ready for it. His relaxed, though determined, disposition would grant him the insight he needed to catch an opening as soon as it presented itself.

And if things just didn't happen to go his well, well ********, that's why there's improvisation.

[Kain vs Damon] 10

Vivi Merquise Wrote:

“You know, it is very ‘ard to get mud out of ‘air.” Vivi spoke from the ground, The Lamia rolled on to her stomach, her eyes falling upon a nice rosewood acoustic guitar which one of the revelers just so happened to be holding.

Actually, hardly any of the Lamia was still clean, if she had a dry cleaning bill because of this. Tres was going to be the one to pay it.

[4/17]

I should have slayed you!

"Your voice is really sexy. We should hook up after this.", Tres said after the girl fell back into the mud. As he spoke he would not assault her, instead Tres would walk over to his right towards a man smoking a massive green bong.

"Dude, Let me get a hit of that", and he did.

The man would light the bong as Tres would inhale deeply while leaning over to take a toke from the tall green monster.

In the reflection of the glass bong he saw her running over to him with the guitar held high to come down at him at a wide arc. Simultaneously while taking a hit, he would throw a right back kick to her unguarded stomach. Hopefully this would force her back some, and cause the guitar to crash into his back rather than his head.

Tres would stumble forward after the hit, away from the knee that was to follow that would have likely landed in his a**. As he stumbled forward he would snatch the bong from the guys hand. He would be coughing, less so from the impact of the hollow instrument but from the massive hit he took from the bong.

The crowd would spread out to Give Tres some space as he would turn to face the girl with a smile on his face:

"Dude you want to take a hit of this s**t before we continue beating the crap out of each other?", Grappling was the only martial art that could be done high. Though that raised the question of whether or not Tres was really high, or was he just acting in the illusion of the clock tower?

He lifted up the water pipe on high and it was obvious that he was totally serious.

Like that dragon last week

I should have slayed you!

Tres would react with the muay thai left side block, protecting his entire left side from attack.

BRING!

Shattered the bong on his powerful arms. Bits and pieces of glass would scratch his skin, causing him to bleed a little. Tres now smelled like weed and he was suddenly glad none of this was real or so he thought.

"Somehow I am not surprised. I thought about doing the same thing."

Tres would watch as the round house came for his chin and would react with a relaxed and calm demeanor. He would weave under the attack, bending his knees to lower his position and stepping out to his left and then raising after the attack passed its target.

After the kick had missed its target he would be facing the opponents exposed back and would immediately shoot out his left hand in a lead straight palm strike headed straight for the girls a**. Once the attack landed the punch would snap back to guard.

"Please excuse my hands!", Tres would shout in reference to a horrible rap song.

Like that dragon last week

Tres Ecstuffuan Wrote:

After the kick had missed its target he would be facing the opponents exposed back and would immediately shoot out his left hand in a lead straight palm strike headed straight for the girls a**.

Alright, all this to-ing and fro-ing and not drawing much blood was cute to begin with. But Viviana was getting tired of it. She had no reason to keep going easy on Tres.

So when he jabbed out his hand at her behind, Vivianas right hand moved to intercept it, slender fingers locking around his wrist like a steel trap.

Heat Vision Wrote:

Like a python or rattle snake, Viviana has tiny infra red like sensors which allow her to detect heat. These sensors are as tiny as the pores on a persons skin and invisible to the naked eye, they run along the ridge of Vivi's brows, her cheek bones and down the bridge of her nose. As long as a creature generates any amount of heat, Viviana can pinpoint their location, even with her eyes closed. This ability functions just like a python’s or rattle snakes in that heat waves in the air are fed through the infra red receptors to give Viviana the location of her prey. Its range is close (5-10 feet), however it works on a full circle (360 degrees) angle. A person standing behind the Lamia (in close proximity) will still generate heat and therefore the sensors will locate their presence.

"I think you 'ad better reconsider where you intend on putting that 'and." She said as she twisted Tres' arm clockwise rather forcefully. She glanced back over her shoulder, and then with alarming speed, she turned and, still holding that wrist yanked him close toward her. Lips curling upward in a sneer,

"Enough games." She said with a hiss, and reached out with her left hand to grab a hold of a fistfull of his hair.

[6/17]

I should have slayed you!

WILD THANG!

"Oh you know you like it!"

Tres intended to snap back that hand anyway, so when it was caught he would immediately pull back. He would keep the arm strong, resisting the twist of her hand on his wrist. She didn't have the hand in any particular lock but only a simple grasp of the wrist and she wouldn't be able to cause the same results had she administered a Chin Na lock. Tres would grab onto her right wrist with his left hand in turn, keeping the grapple balanced. His grip was a devilish vice that only a master grappler could maintain.

He would bend his knees and lower his center of gravity to keep himself from being tugged forward while at the same time he would pull against her in resistance. Tres was likely stronger than the girl, so he would be able to do this well.

He would throw his head back away from her hand to his left as his body resisted being pulled, bringing his dreaded hair out of her hands reach for a moment, His right hand would shoot out for what seemed to be a downward angled punch to the left breast utilizing his long arm reach.

Though once the blow would land, she would find something was terribly wrong.

BLOOD

BLOOD

BLOOD!

Quote:

Street Iai-Do

Tres can draw small sized or smaller weapons quickly, often without the opponent being able to see him arm himself with the weapon. Sieg has several weapons other than the visible ones hidden about his person. This ability allows Tres to reveal a hidden weapon that he had drawn without the opponents knowing during a movement of the hands.

During the punch Tres would draw a small push knife hidden in the wrappings around his right wrist. The blade would slam into the soft breast, between the ribs beneath, and into the lung. The fist itself would crash into the ribs with the potential to fracture them.

The blade carrying fist embedded into her body would act as a point of leverage to pull his hand free of the opponents grasp. The push knife would likely however get caught in the ribs and break off within her body.

He would bring his right and left hand back to guard while stepping back, in an attempt to maintain outside boxing range.

If all of this worked out, he would say:

"You have...or rather...had nice tits. Luckily we can get those repared when this is all done and then we can talk nice."

YOU MAKE MY HEART SWANG!

Like that dragon last week

His left wing and arm draped low and seemed to be exhausted from their labours.

" 'uckin' ung' itch -"

Furious that he couldn't even utter curses he just hucked the broken bottle at Damon's blurred mass, ****** it, there was always more st to use - like the chair leg in his wing. Ripping it free from the hide, Kain was armed again, his grip slippery from the blood on his hands.

He focused on his bleeding, knowing full well he's lost a good pint and a half and decided to slow it's flow from pouring blithely from his wounds. It'd slow but not much at all - he'd have to give his headshake, but for now his focus was on Damon.

Balls if his missle hit or no, his accuracy hadn't been great all night, it'd clip the left shoulder, if Kain was really lucky it'd stab into the meaty flesh of his bicep. This night wasn't going to last much longer for the psion if he dawdled anymore; the molotovs fires caught the table which would be enjoying a nearby support pillar. A saloon where there be no guns a'blazin' but yer britches.

Yippie Caiyay, ********>

[Damon vs. Kain 12]

Another hit! Horah! Now all she had to do was..

~Uwah!

Saya's celebration was cut short as she felt herself getting tugged even closer; as if they weren't intimate enough already. With one leg stuck off the ground and her opponent toughing through the blow, she really was in a bit of trouble. This time, though, she saw the headbutt as it came, and since she wasn't very interested in a competition of brute force she decided to avoid it this time, if at all possible.

Relaxing her arms, Saya jerked herself back as quickly as possible, relying on backward momentum and throwing balance to the wind. With Song lunging forward and Saya lunging back, the little swordswoman would hopefully throw the both of them off their feet.

If it all worked out, Saya would take the impact with a small roll, clearly not comfortable with being landed on but still have enough momentum to carry through with a hard push. Using the backwards force and her own decent strength (also being able to lift her own weight), she would push off with her knees and hands while continuing the roll on her back in order to flip song off before she had a chance to get any sort of hold (aside from the ones she already had that wouldn't help her much in staying still).

Victory through Blood

Grace + 1 : 6

[Song vs. Saya] 4

What a dance! Their arms spread out wide as Song kept Saya close, dipping her head in for a good look at asian womanhood. Then their dance would take them in a twist, dipping Saya down like a true lady on the ballroom floor. Only Saya had no intention of hitting the floor.

As Song's head came back up and she guided the dance down Saya pulled her arms back in to her sides. If Song wanted any distance between them it would have to come at the length of her arms alone. Coupled to that, Saya also brought her right leg up next to her left, more or less taking the fetus position as she let herself get tossed to whatever end. At this range trying to get a foot in would do little more than scrape across her Kimono, and even holding on to her arms would require Song to bend over.

If she did lean forward she would be met with the same half-rolling flip, powered by both of Saya's exceptionally strong legs, as well as her arms to whatever extent, in order to get Song on her back as well. If she held her aloft without bringing her all the way to the ground, well... this was becoming one interesting dance.

Wasted Spirit

Grace - 1 : 5

[Song vs. Saya] 5

The dance continued! ...but wait, when did the room start spinning?

"Shimata!"

Gasps arose from the crowd as Saya's exclamation hit the air; partially from the vulgarity and partially from pity. She was never very good at the spinning part of these dances. She would always trip or step on her partner's feet... though admittedly this was the first time she was ever sent flying into a wooden pillar.

CRACK!

Wide-eyed and wide-mouthed, the hapless swordswoman met back-first, bending rather uncomfortably before falling to the ground with another resounding thud. Fierce and wild-eyed, Saya looked about the room, which hadn't yet stopped spinning, for where she and her opponent had ended up while she gathered herself to her knees and tried desperately to start breathing again. Her dazed vision soon fell upon the whip that was still wrapped around her arm. That was the anchor! Pushing through her pain, Saya twisted her arm and wrapped the whip behind her elbow. She then proceeded to twist and spin her arm around the coil, binding her arm even further, until she felt the slack pick up and the grounded handle move. Quickly, she yanked it away from whatever reach its previous owner many have had on it. As it slid across the floor Saya smoothly stood and spun once with the room, lashing her right arm out with the motion. Her head and back were screaming at her for this little stunt, but she would compose herself for now.

The handle picked up speed with the spin, losing itself only once as it hit the pillar and taking flight on the other side. Then, as she lashed out she sent the handle back down hard upon the blurred object in the middle of the room (Song). It would be coming down at a diagonal angle from the left (Saya's right), aimed to whip her in the head, neck, shoulder, or whatever happened to be there at the time.

Victory through Sacrifice

Grace + 2 : 7

[Song vs. Saya] 6

I should have slayed you!

Now Tres got it.

This whole time she had been going for the grapple attempt and he had wondered why on earth would she do that taking into account her size. It quickly became apparent that she was a lot stronger than she looked and now it was obvious that she was not human. There was something waiting for Tres if he was to grapple this woman.

Tres would continue backing up. The crowd of stoners would likely give them space as to not interfere with the match. He was watching the girl with a wry grin as he waited for that perfect chance again to striker her down.

What Tres thought to be a left hook came but he saw the left foot coming in between the legs, this struck off a flag in his head. It couldn't have been a left hook and he didn't want that left foot getting hold of anything it shouldn't.

Tres would lean back, keeping his guard up and letting the left hand cruise harmlessly in front of his face, dodging the grasp attempt for the neck. Simultaneously he would use his Bruce Lee'esque footwork and the softness of the mud to switch to south paw stance. This would bring his right foot forward and his left foot back.

This would bring his left foot back just before she would get the back of her foot and lower calf around the back of his left leg, so that when she attempted the take down only she would fall prone into the dirty mud.

Tres would begin to footwork around the girl, his fancy footwork would kick mud right into her face after she had fell to the ground.

8/17

Like that dragon last week

"Mon Dieu..."

Song murmured, not in the least bit dizzy as she watched the woman pick herself up. That the other swordswoman was doing anything was damned impressive. There was a moment of admiration for the woman before she watched her whip fly across the room. She had dropped it after all, so it was fair game. But she knew what was coming. Because it was what she herself would do given the circumstances.

So she did the only thing practical. As the whip was wound and started it's ascent Song did a simply manuever. She ran right for Saya, shoulder checking her right in the stomach, even as the whip came down on the spot Song should have been in, Slamming Saya right back into the pillar again, with her shoulder slamming into her gut at the same time.

[7/17]

[2/12]

The glass passed over Damon's shoulder but Damon was already bursting forwards like a released spring, this put him at a good distance when--

KABOOOM

..the expected explosion occurred, saving him from a good portion of the glass fragments and possible burns on his back. Several pieces of glass embedded into his back and there was a ringing in his ears, but nothing serious when compared to the other wounds Damon had on him. It was a creative move on Kain's part, kinda, using the bottles to his advantage by lacing them with his explosive blood, but it wasn't going to do him good if Damon had already realized the tactic.

By now, Damon, a little hindered in his run from the pressure of the explosive wave hitting him, was still making his way towards Kain. Only instead of getting to him and getting to stab him, he found a couple of bottles now heading towards his face.

If he could make a facial expression at this moment, it'd look like this:

Deciding 'to hell with holding back' Damon slid his right foot forward and stopped his body, his eyes flashing a split second with silver light. A psychokinetic ripple connected with the bottles and shattered them into an large number of mixed small and large pieces. From there he willed the mass of glass fragments to come to him and swirl around his right arm in a translucent aura. A bland tactic yes, but it was more than a defense--

It was a weapon.

Just as Kain made his way behind the bar, his one good wing raised, Damon let loose with a strong wave of psychokinetic force from his right arm to send a razor sharp wall of DO NOT WANT right back in Kain's FACE/chest. Yeah, he still had his wing to protect him, but could he use it in the confined space behind the bar to shield himself before the close and rapidly moving wall of glassy shrapnel hit him?

Not being the type to ever count out anybodies ingenuity, Damon would once again start moving towards Kain as soon as he fired off the attack. If the devil was hit he'd be shredded and weakened for a moment, but if not, Damon wanted to come up behind his defense as quickly as possible for a preemptive strike before Kain could get off another offense.

[Kain vs Damon] 13

He'd have to git some new tricks up his sleeve, this boyo was here for business. Well, Kain could say the same, what with all of the nasty pissed offery he was having.

So, what would a handsome disfigured ballistic sumbitch do now that he had s**t coming back at him? Well, what one would normally do - move da fawk out da way. That is, he saw his projectile loosed...heard it break, but at the same time...no scream...grunt...anything? Nothin'.

"ERGN"

His wing took the bulk of the attack and due to it's sophistication, a few shards shot through and bit into his left arm, the bicep taking two good size splinters and a thin shard in his should....lucky that it didn't sink into the jugular.

His head wasn't doing well at all, through all of this he realised how lightheaded he was and how much the use of his abilities were starting to take ill effects; sickness and fatigue. Yet, his left arm and wing seemed to jump back to life, like, into the arm and would come crashing down, aimed for Damon's head. Another front the Psion would need to defend against would be his left - the right wing coming for a smash to his shoulder. The left was to distract, maybe stun, but the right was where Damon would feel the pain. The ol' one two.

Smoke was now escaping out of the stairwell and the hole in the floor, still a ways from causing structural damage but emotional damage to the owner.

"My Saloon! She's on fire! The Wizard and 'is Devil are burnin' my building!--Call the fire squad and the Father!---Oh my Saloon!"

Some of the other- recently formered patrons were getting vengeful and zealous themselves, drawin' out their six-shooters...gittin' idears in them thar heads.

[Damon Vs. Kain 14]

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

His wing took the bulk of the attack and due to it's sophistication, a few shards shot through and bit into his left arm, the bicep taking two good size splinters and a thin shard in his should....lucky that it didn't sink into the jugular.

It had been a choice between attacking Kain while he was being shredded, or attacking as soon as he was defending - and now what Damon had to do was made clear. The psion's eyes drew into focused slits.

Using the very last bit of the psychic energy he'd gathered, Damon let loose a psionic wave from his left leg to launch himself up and forwards through the air towards Kain, left leg coiling up, body turning perpendicular with his right leg extending outwards all in synergy.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

Yet, his left arm and wing seemed to jump back to life, like, into the arm and would come crashing down, aimed for Damon's head. Another front the Psion would need to defend against would be his left - the right wing coming for a smash to his shoulder. The left was to distract, maybe stun, but the right was where Damon would feel the pain. The ol' one two.

Kain's wings would open, but before he could attack with them, his face would be abruptly filled by a size 11 brown work boot, attached to a leg, and then a whole lotta pissed off looking psion! The kick's general location was mostly aimed Kain's chest area, and if it made contact, Kain would have to deal with the entire weight of a full grown man driving into his chest and violently splattering him into the liquor cabinet.

WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DRAGOOOOOON KIIIIIICK!!

If the attack landed, Damon would find himself behind the counter leaning up against the shelf with his forearms pressed up against the wood. Oh yeah, it was hard to describe the immense pain that would give him. Not to mention the fact that he'd lost a good bit 'o blood and had just exhausted the last bit of his psionic energy. So, there wouldn't be a follow up attack, instead Damon would just hop back over the counter and make his way towards a table. Slowly.

Kain on the other hand would have to deal with physical exhaustion and the damage that having your back smashed into a lot of full glass bottles will do. In fact, it was likely he'd be straight up knocked out from it. However, Kain had shown quite a bit of resilience so far, but who knew.

The spectators would be in awe for a moment at the sight of what Damon had done. And somewhere in the infinity of time and space, Chuck Norris would shed a single tear for how manry the fight truly was.

[Kain vs Damon] 14

Song was going to have one hell of a neck ache when this was over. If she was even conscious. But for the moment, the adrenaline was still pumping. As her body slammed Saya back against the pillar, her head and body began to lift, actually moving into the elbow blow, cutting off some of the momentum it was trying to gain. In addition, her left leg moved upward, intent on slamming Saya's groin.

Unfortunately for Song, it would be prevented from doing any damage from Saya's only left knee moving up to do something quite similar, effectively cutting off both of their attacks.

"Oh enough of this!" She growled and reached to her own left side, where her sabre rested, and unsnapping her sword from the simple loop and fasten with a wrenching jerk , she slammed the hilt of her sabre into Saya's ribs with her full force. It being the only viable target at the moment

[9/17]

[4/12]

I should have slayed you!

She didn't give herself that massive of a height advantage with Tres being 6"4' but all she really accomplished was making herself a little uglier. Luckily for Tres he wasn't the type to blink during fights, and though the transformation came as somewhat as a surprise. He wasn't going to stop fighting for any moment, no matter how minuscule.

"I'm Gonna slay you. Like that. DRAGON LAST WEEK!"

He would interrupt her with a jumping left knee to the face, pulling his left leg up before the coils wrapped around it and just as she snapped up from falling. The contact between her leg and his leg had been prevented with the footworking into south paw stance. He had originally intended to drop a knee on her in immediate reaction to the transformation but the opponent had done half the work for him by snapping her face into it.

Whether or not the attack hit and interrupted the action following lamia's transformation would determine how he would follow this up.

9/17

Like that dragon last week

I should have slayed you!

Well since apparently her head wasn't attached to the torso assuming the upright position, then she must have really transformed into some freaky st. The crowd surrounding them would shout in excitement thinking they were just paying witness to some really psychedelic st.

Tres would plant his risen left foot into her chest or torso after its knee had magically missed its target and push off away from the monster into the air. His right foot would kick to his left beneath his left foot to parry the rising tail out towards Tres's left side; causing it to miss its target

The fight had moved close to the stage and that is what Tres would land upon.

"Wassup Jimmy", Tres would say to hendrix.

"Hope you don't mind if I grab a mic stand"

Tres would grab a back up singers mike stand and in one tug break off the mike holding part. This would leave him with a pointy aluminum shaft and a mike. He would drop the push knife so that he would have a mic with the right hand and a make-shift spear in the left.

"Look at little miss lover over there, your skin looks a little dry. You need some lotion baby.

Tres would taunt her towards the stage.

10/17

Like that dragon last week

Vivi Merquise Wrote:

As valiant as Tres' attempt was to parry an attack made with the full force of 400lbs of muscle with nothing but his left foot, it wouldn't work, it was logically impossible for him to be able to do so, especially having just exerted the majority of his force into an attack at the Lamia's torso, 400lbs, is 400lbs.

His foot would glide harmlessly over the slippery scales of Viviana's tail and the tail itself would continue upwards, slamming right into his inner thighs and genitals. (Hey, he had aimed a slash at her breast earlier. Tit for Tat. Quite literally.)

[10/17]

Oh damn, here comes the no you's. Apparently a person could let go of something, immediately as she attempted to grab it to dodge a knife coming at her tit...or a person could bring there torso (and head) forward into a knee but the knee hit nothing...but one could not kick a tail out of a way with tones foot.

Whatever...

Tres's legs wouldn't be open for business anyway. His left knee would be up but his right foot would be down. Because of this, her tail point would slam into the bottom of his right foot rather than his groin or thigh. The sole of his shoe, thick skin and meat at the base of the foot would stop the point from driving all the way in and instead push Tres higher into the air towards the stage.

Where he would do what he intended to do anyway, except with a bleeding hole inside of the bottom of his foot.

Will this fight continue?

11/17

There was no "point" on Viviana's tail. It was not a spiky appendage that would drive into anything. Her attack had been a tail slap, smack, whack, or any other synonym which can be used to describe something smooth but forceful hitting against something else.

I'm unsure how much Tres knows about the physiology of a snake, but generally speaking, they are not covered in spines, and Viviana was no exception to this rule. Rather than recieving a hole in the bottom of his foot, the young martial artist would be more likely to have his ankle shattered by the blunt force trauma.

Regardless. He was flung toward the stage and he landed there, grabbing his microphone and his make shift spear and Viviana quirked a single silver brow at his antics, because by now she'd decided this guy was missing a few screws. She cocked her head to one side, her forked tongue flicking our from between her fangs as she replied.

"My 'skin' is far from dry, Monsieur. They're ventral scales."

The Lamia glanced from side to side, she was tempted to turn one of these hippies to stone and send them flying at the man on the stage, but that would break the rule about injuring spectators, and really, Vivi didn't think it would be particularly healthy for the psyche of any of the kids in the crowd to be encrusted in limestone and sent on a collision course at some huge guy.

Instead she slithered at her top speed, effectively sprinting around the side of the stage and up the stairs which led onto it.

"The next act is 'ere." She announced, almost pleasantly, as she seized one of the large Marshall quad boxes which Jimmy's riffs had been being amplified through, and sent it hurtling through the air, straight towards Tres.

[10/17]

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

The blow would be absorbed from a convicted retreat by the Devils already backwards motion, but he was a tenacious one and continued with his descending attack which would now be like choke slamming Damon into the bar and/or floor.

[color=slategray]One thing summed up this situation pretty well.

The awesome feeling of landing his dragon kick was overshadowed by the fact that Kain's massive left wing was still in motion, and if was capable of lifting his weight, then it was capable of swatting Damon against the counter like an unfortunate fly. Thankfully, Damon's mid air position would cause the wing to hit him awkwardly. With a rather audible 'splat' the wing would slam into Damon's right side and then drive him onto his left arm and side into the counter-top and completely stunt his already diminishing momentum.

It wasn't the full power of the slam Kain had wanted... but man... it might as well have been. Damon's left arm and side was aching something fierce, as one could probably imagine. Kain on the other hand wouldn't be having a cheery day either, what with his current chest injury and the likely impact that would have on his breathing.

Mustering up his strength to the best of his ability, Damon pulled his legs up from the edge of the counter top and simply rolled over onto his stomach, his head turned towards the devil.

WHOOSH

Something flew out of the corner of his eye. Kain seemed to have thrown something pretty haphazardly... but at the moment Damon didn't know exactly what.

"Damn. I was hoping that would end it," the words were strained and bore a little discontent. "He really is a monster."

Damon wasn't sure how much more Kain could take, but if the fight had to continue, then it would. He was still conscious and his body still worked for the most part. Pushing himself up on his elbows, Damon waited for Kain to make his next move - if he even could that was... he'd sustained a lot of injuries and lost a lot of blood after all.

[Kain vs Damon] 15

I should have slayed you!

Tres would stick the blunt end of the mic pole down to his left, just touching the end of the tail that intended to hook behind his approach. This would aid him in making a quick short hop over the tail further to her right side while coming forward. This would keep the tail from being at his back as he fought.

As he landed from the quick short hop he would bend his knees while performing a right block defending the head. The guitar head would shatter on his right arm, but the bracer hidden under the red wrappings around his forearm would prevent the damage. The shock of the guitar hitting his right arm was still felt, and it throbbed with slight pain.

Tres would stop coming forward just in the range of the guitar. He was outside good kicking range but he was just far enough to make a jabbing thrust towards the right side of the unguarded area just behind the snakes eye sockets. This was a sensitive area in most humanoids, especially with the small surface area of the jagged broken end of the night stand.

12/17

Like that dragon last week

Just like Kain, Damon was having a hard time keeping focus with fatigue setting in from both the pain and the use of his abilities in a rough situation. Nevertheless he did his very best to press forwards, sitting up on the bar just as Kain tried to pull himself up. For a brief moment the two locked eyes and Damon prepared to strike again when--

BANG

A gunshot.

In shock from the sound Damon threw himself down flat on his right side, his eyes frantically scanning the area behind the bar for a tight place to tuck into. "I thought guns were not allowed in the tournament? Why would they let..."

BANG BANG BANG

Damon covered his head as more shots rang out around him, several glasses also hit him in the stomach, not really doing that much because they were so thin and empty. At the moment Damon couldn't really think of anything to do in his match with Kain...

...till the shooters suddenly vanished?? O_o;

lol, k

Slowly Damon sat up on the bar counter again, pushing off the edge with his forearms and hopped down to the floor behind the counter. By this time he was facing the downed Kain. There couldn't be any fight left in him, so Damon would approach, and if he wasn't KO'd, Damon would give Kain one last hard front kick to the left side of the head with his right boot to finish the job. As much as he disliked hitting such a horribly weakened opponent, he had to end this fight. Now.

[Kain vs Damon] 16

Heaven or Hell was just full of surprises, but fighters with amazing endurance and the will to not give up was not one of them. Kain showed a level of resilience Damon had only seen in Reinhart in his match during the volcano, and he had to admire it, and he would have had he not had more pressing matters to think about.

Damon's right front kick came in and was promptly smacked away by Kain's left arm, causing Damon's right boot to smack into the corner of the bar. The hard leather of the work boot absorbed the impact with ease, so there was that, but the really shitty thing here was that Kain was sliding back and attempting a kick towards the left knee.

It was pretty damn obvious to Damon that Kain was going for a break, he wanted to make a cripple out of the psion. An understandable mindset after having been ripped into. However, Damon had other plans than having his leg broken.

In the one split second he was given, and at risk to himself, Damon dropped down onto the kick with his left knee. Kain's foot would still hit Damon in the knee, but with it coiled like that it certainly wouldn't break - instead Damon would painfully strike his knee into the floor. If luck was on his side Kain's foot would be under that knee and get a nasty compound fracture.

Kain's other hook kick to the thigh would still hit, but probably not with as much force as originally intended doing to them meeting each other half way.

Before Damon could do anything else the match would end.

The world would shift around them in a blur, and before either of them knew it, they would be back in the empty room of the clock tower. There HoH medical personal would scramble into action and pull both of them away from each other before any more damage could be dealt. Glass would be removed, wounds cleaned, bandages applied and lots and lots and lots of painkillers pumped into both of them.

Damon would still be able to walk out under his own power with no shirt and bandages splotched with blood covering thirty percent of his body - Kain on the other hand would probably have to be taken away on a stretcher.

[Kain vs Damon] 17 - End