Scrapyard Scrap

Stage5: Decker Arsenal

Scrapyard Scrap

Not everything, like fighters themselves, are destined for greatness. However it is from the scraps of our defeats that we may build ourselves into champions.

The scrap yard is an L-shaped area surrounded on one side by a six-foot high whitewashed brick wall toped with cast iron spikes. On the other side is the Arsenal itself whitewashed stonewalls closing off the yard. Along the wall side are multi-level racks of scrap metal; some well organized stacks of sheet metal and rods and bars of metal arranged for easy retrieval. These stacks however present a larger number of sharp, exposed edges, able to rip into anyone silly enough to brush against them or weak enough to be thrown into them..

Terrain

General - Gravel ground, don't touch the sides.

Weapons - Metal bars, assorted pieces of scrap.

Bonus Effects - I told you, don't touch the sides. Also, there are people inside the nearby building.

...And following closely behind Griff was the swordsman that caused some unfortunate actions back in the first round. While obviously not in a good mood because of what DID happened - there was an air of...negativity around his presence.

More like a nasty chill to those close to his presence, mind you.

His dark, greyish cloak looked tattered as usual, still bearing the brunt of some old damage recieved back in the first round of the fight.

With the cloak moving in some odd, slow fashion with the swordsman's movements, his dulled red eyes glanced over at whatever needs to be taken into account in the surroundings; the spikes, the walls, the large amount of metals nearby...

And of course, what was available to him.

"..."

Tsk. Just some humidity...

Good thing he'd stocked up on what he needed though beforehand, the swordsman starting to holster his blades back to the side of his hips. After leaving his cloak and gears in the hotel shower for god knows how long to gather some amount...

While it was time consuming, there should be enough for him to have no particular problems in a place lacking of such substance.

...

Other than the weather itself.

"Well."

He folded his arms close to each other, squatting outside near the sidelines and away from the walls while he waited for the others to come.

"Time to play rough." He would comment, somewhat to Griff who was nearby and hollering out with a name he didn't know.

The rest, mostly to himself.

Kong was the first to arrive of ODESSA, which was quite amusing since he spoke little English and understood next to none of it. Thus, finding an arena was nearly impossible for him. This time though, he was donned in his armor completely and wore his large brimmed black straw hat. Both swords swayed at his waist and he walked tall, he didn't know why, but his last fight went unfinished and he assumed he had made some mistake he was unaware of.

Of course, it could have simply been the judges felt there was no point in fighting a meaningless battle. ODESSA had lost before Kong even stepped into the ring, KB, the creepy sexual assaulter lost to what could only be explained as a bear with a slab of metal in his hands, and Kong was busy with his own fight when Al had fought.

Kong eyed the other team, all here. The cloaked one was clearly angered, and the lightly armored swordsmen felt a deep cold from his core, it wasn't threatening or dangerous yet, but it could be. That played into Kong's hands, anger an opponent who effects the world and the world will be damaged, along with the spectators.

Of course, that was if he fought that man. His eyes then drifted to the man in the leather jacket, coughing with a gauntlet on his hand. He was there Leader, he could tell from his stature and attitude. KB would probably end up fighting him, his eyes then moved to the one armed man, he didn't take everything at first....He simply focused on the lack of an arm.

"That man is strong." Escaped his lips in broken ENGRISH, but it wasn't loud enough for most to hear. Kong sat down and his lean flexible body allowed him to place his legs over each other and tight to the body even in the armor, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on his knees. He was meditating, waiting patiently for his mismatch team.

While the chill certainly was..well, chilly, it was only the areas close to his presence - in other words, just a meter or so around the swordsman that is actually chilly. How the spectators can feel that chill even though they were so far away from the swordsman is beyond his reasoning, but nonetheless...

The swordsman would reduce the presence even further than it already is after James' little wording there, the chill disappearing completely around the swordsman while he continued to squat and wait for the opposition to arrive.

The spectators would still be warm and fuzzy in their respective places without knowing what the hell just happened, since the initial chill from the swordsman was mostly limited to...well, the swordsman himself.

He would shift into a sitting position, his left leg propped up so he could rest his chin on it.

"So."

Glancing over at James and briefly ignoring the person that just arrived from the opposition, a serious expression overcame the swordsman's face, as if he was going to ask something really important. Before...

"Any ideas on what they would be serving for dinner in the Hotel?"

KB arrived, the iconic leader of ODESSA dressed uncharacteristically. He was adorned in his spiked full plate, armor he did not wear often. It would seem at a glance that he was covered in every major area by thick, broad plates of metal. Of course, anyone familiar with such designs would be able to note some of the weaker points. Chinks in the armor, as the saying goes. The spikes themselves seemed to be more ornate than deadly, as the longest of them were about 3 inches long, found jutting out from the shoulders, elbows, and kneecaps.

The visor was down, closing his pretty face from view. There was no sound of breathing, only the telltale clinking of metal on metal as he slowly approached. His left hand raised a large, apparently steel shield. It was of the sort one might expect to find in a shield wall or by some other rank-and-file fighting unit. It covered the entire left side of his body, ranging from about near his shoulder to down to his thighs. With a lot of mobility in the left arm to which it was strapped and held, it could easily be moved to cover much more.

The right hand held a rather nondescript morningstar. The morningstar was similar in principle to a mace, albeit with a smaller head that was more spiked as opposed to flanged. It was not a ball-headed morningstar, but rather a sort of diamond shape. The spikes themselves weren't ridiculously long, but pointed towards the fact that they would obviously cause damage in a way similar to a meat pounder.

KB's stance was indicative of his fighting style. He approached the arena itself casually, but upon entry raised his right arm until the head of his weapon was wavering slightly overhead. Shield raised up in front of him, rim near his chin, the result would be one foot in front of the other, bringing a metal 'scorpion' towards his enemies.

Whoever wanted to fight could be obliterated right now. Whoever wanted to pussyfoot around and watch gay pr0n could step off the field.

KB would simply nod and continue his methodical approach. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he made his way closer to James, ignoring both the somewhat unarmed Griff and the swordsman Snow. Like Snow, KB emanated a slight chill to the air, a result of his body being unnaturally cold.

James was competent, despite what the first round may had indicated. The 'losers bracket' was full of talented fighters. Many teams that had met bad luck were being forced to prove themselves, while others who simply sucked were invariably set to end their HoH activities prematurely. KB did not count ODESSA and God Caliber among the latter.

KB would move towards melee range, and provided his enemy did not run away like a little girl, he would suddenly dash forwards. His shield raised, it would act like a wall of steel, aiming to bulldoze the smaller James towards the racks lining the sides of the arena. It would be sort of hard to 'get off' the shield because KB would aim to catch James' opposing side ( the right ) with the shield more than just his middle, so if the man tried to squirm off the right arm holding the morningstar could drop down and hook around the middle of his body. If he tried to move off to the opposite side he'd be attempting to move past the brunt of the shield, which would simply result in him being knocked flat on his back, or sent plummeting away.

There was a chance that James would just keep backing up, or that he'd run away before KB got close enough. The vampire was no fool. He would not begin his charge from far away, leaving a lot of room to act. He would wait until he was nearly point-blank with James before initiating his charge, confident that his layered protection would prevent the fighter from doing any damage.

Methodical. Ponderous. Timeless. Undead.

KB would pursue James tirelessly for as long as it took for the man to succumb to fatigue, the timer to count down to 0, or the crowd to boo the chicken-wuss off the field.

[1/17]

"Tch" James stood up as KB approached him, obviously spoiling to get this thing started. He wanted to be fair and give Griff a chance to go first, but things as they were...

A low growl emanated from the martial artist. As a general rule, he hated vampires. Didn't help that this guy was clad head-to-toe in spiked armor. He hated armor too, but spiked armor? b*****d was just asking for it.

James slid his right leg back, and brought up his arms in a basic fighting stance, left in front, right closer to the side, both near neck level as KB closed in, presenting only his left to the vampire.

As KB suddenly dashed forward, James timed himself and threw himself forward slightly, digging his feet in and bracing for impact. It was amazing how stubborn something could be when it didn't want to be moved, and given that KB didn't exactly build up enough momentum to begin with to completely bowl over the fighter, the two captains would be engaged in a temporarily shoving war, James's left arm facing inward and horizontal against KB's shield. It stung like hell, but it was worth it.

1/17

Clutch!

What greeted KB's ears instead was the dull clang of metal on metal as James intercepted the morning star with his right hand, having anticipated the blow and readied a defense beforehand. Completely encased in its gauntlet, his hand was pretty well protected against... just about anything. It was unfortunate that James didn't have the same level of protection anywhere else on his body, but that was just his style. It did prevent the mace from striking him in the head though.

While normally a mace, hammer, or morning star would crush armor, the blow didn't have enough power behind it to even dent it, although the spikes made it awkward to keep a hold of anyway.

Time to kick it all into gear. Teeth gritted in determination, his left hand twisted outward and grabbed the (KB's right) right edge of the shield even as his right clung onto the head of the morningstar.

"Jama da" he growled and suddenly leaned back and pulled KB to his right with both arms. Smoothly, the young fighter displayed his martial expertise as he seemed to simply, slip out of the way, turning on his left foot as his right slid further behind him, before suddenly letting go and twisting the right side of his upper body back in at the torso for a burning lariat to KB's head with the wrist of his right arm.

CLANG!

Oh yeah, that was armored too. James's gauntlet on the right hand extended from the fingertips to roughly the elbow, hidden beneath the jacket.

If KB gave up his weapons, James'll simply twist in sooner and bash the vampire's helmet in with the head of his own mace. Either way, the KB was pushing, so he might not anticipate the sudden maneuver.

2/17

EDIT for clarification: Burning lariat is a wrestling move.

His arm's not on fire.

Yet.

Magic gauntlet was magic.

Either that, or it was extremely tough. Nevertheless, the mace dented and pierced through the palm of the plating in a few places, and left James's hand fairly wounded. Short stubs they were though, the morning star wouldn't be as dangerous unless the spikes were longer.

Not like it was going to stop him though. Worse came to worse, the martial artist'll do Griff one better and beat his fully armored opponent into unconciousness with his own.... arm...

Well, scratch that idea.

Bleeding right hand not withstanding, James bore the pain with the attitude typical of him (which was was ignoring it and pressing on) and completed his lariat attempt, not that it worked very well with KB further away from him.

But it did mean that his open fist clapped itself against the front of KB's helm instead. The vampire might thank his lucky stars that he had the visor protecting him from what came next, a point-blank burst of crimson fire from his hand.

Of course, even all that armor had its disadvantages. KB's vision would be a bit limited to begin with, and, before and after with a bloody hand blasting SUPAFIRE in his face, he'd still be unable to see very well, at all. Not permanantly blinded to be sure, but it'd still actually hurt for the vampire, sacred fire and all right near the eyes.

Push came to shove, James grunted and shoved KB away with his left arm almost immediately after and backed away a couple of steps to avoid any possible retaliation from the mace. That visor was now going to be glowing hot. Perfect.

3/17

Kong rose to his feet and drew his right sword, the rigid Oxtail Saber. The hilt was tightly curved, with the blade itself being very wide and solid with a short reach and very hacking blade, some what like a Machete. Kong stepped forward toward Griff with light movements in the composite Chinese Armor, it wasn't plates like KBs, but it stopped slashes well enough. Think of it as rigid chain mail, capable of stopping stabs only at the chest area.

He bowed before Griff as he got into sword range and kept that position, his head pointed down and his left hand hidden under a blood red cloak. Suddenly, and rather dirty, he unclasped the cloak and threw it in his opponents face, it took only a moment, and it would be nigh impossible to see what he was doing with the hidden hand until the last moment.

As the cloak was huge and when thrown it got larger, backing up was the only escape. But that wasn't really that great an option, because charging fourth was Kong, blade held across his waist and point from the left side of his waist he would cut across his waist level diagonally left to right, and stepping forward slowly. The cloak shrouded his attack, making it difficult to block or evade, and due to his arm length and the position one held a curved hilted sword((The end cap area)) the swords effective range was about six feet, and due to the speed at which both the cloak and attack came, within about three seconds of his initial bow, it would be quite hard to back pedal six feet.

[1/17]

Interesting enough. As his body stepped forward and the slash went to nothing against his opponents sword Kong smirked. It was a good move, but as his opponent removed the sword from the soil Kong simply turned and as the kick came shortly after the landing he placed his blade directly in the foots path, the committed movement of a kick would meet the razor sharp edge of a very thick sword, if there was enough power behind the kick it would do what one could consider a banana split down the foot.

It would be painful, but that was far from his goal. He didn't allow the energy to flow, as the foot met the blade Kong used its momentum to simply move to the side slightly, thus throwing his opponent slightly off balance. From there he stepped forward and attempted to place his free arm, which was facing the leg under the knee and then extend his body upward. Thus causing his opponent to fall over, if it worked he would then stomp on his opponents groin. All this would take a matter of a few moments.

It if it didn't, he would come up with something new.

[2-17]

[3-17]

Kong smirked, spinning his sword lazily the blonde swordsmen tensed and rose very straight, his body holding no loose muscle. A soft grin crossed his lips, and his left hand rose to his hat strap, pushing the strap forward the hat fell backward and hit the ground. He shook his head violently causing his hair to fall down from its tight slicked back nature, the long blonde locks giving him a wild look. Blue eyes widened like a beast eying its prey, that prey being Griff; and a full toothed grin crossed his lips, berserk with joy. Berserk with the blood lust always pent inside him.

((A one time shout out to all the people I respect the most running around with an assload of pictures.))

Like a hound from hell he whaled, charging head on at his opponent. Sword held both hands in front of him and his eyes wild and still howling like a mad man his movements were swift and his sudden shift in nature was jarring, completely changing his attack patterns. He was not even remotely trained like he was before, he rushed without tactic head on. It was likely if he remained like this he would possibly simply kill his opponent or himself long before he stopped fighting.

FIRE.

It burned KB's face, those flames that licked through the visor at his eyes. The fleshy bits might be melted at, but to do so would simply reveal the smoldering orbs beneath. The vampire's true eyes, much akin to those found among all undead. This was not a creature born of some fell virus, this was necromantic magic in its most potent state. This is why the necrotic core spun, this is why negative energy empowered him, and this is why he was able to continue fighting even if he'd been cruelly dismembered.

Of course at this point, James had simply smacked his palm into the visor and made it glow faintly, from the heat of his magical fire. That magic was able to harm KB directly and bypass most of his resistances, causing him to stumble back. I mean, he could have just realistically raised his shield to block the attempt completely and then bash James to pieces, but this match was already unfairly stacked in KB's favor. Unless James had the ability to put his fist through a shield, armor, and into the vampire's heart, there would be no KO for him. The most he could hope for was points.

At least, this was the vampire's humble opinion.

So at this point as James backed off, KB spun the morningstar around in his hand and hiked up his shield a bit. He basically shook off the blow, as it was pretty small in itself. A more direct hit would have been much more grievous, but in the meantime, a matchbox to the face wasn't going to make the monster curl into a ball and start crying.

Strangely, KB made no audible sounds of discomfort, even as he took the first step towards James. Again the shield raised into its protective position covering the majority of his left side, and again the morningstar in hand lifted overhead. Again KB made his advance on James, and again it was fairly unimaginative. The vampire moved with more of a mechanical gait, seeking to move into melee range. If he made it there, he'd step in with his right and bring the morningstar in down at Jame's left side, horizontally.

Then follow immediately by stepping forwards with his left, and slamming the shield into Jame's body. SHIELD BASH.

[4/17]

!!!SHIELD BASH!!!

James caught KB's wrist conveniently, avoiding the sweeping strike of the morningstar. KB's lack of control on the weapon was offset by James' total control, which kept his arm from continuing ahead, which would set him off balance. Then James lifted KB's wrist into the air, forcing his arm up, exposing one of the weaker portions of his armor.

KB simply snapped backwards, his speed belied by his armor. Sliding his left foot back through the gravel, he twisted his waist. The arm coming up at his exposed armpit wouldn't be much of a problem considering KB's shield-arm bent at the elbow as he spun back, his back fully to his foe. James was the cross KB was pinned to, with his right arm already nailed in place as the left moved to mimic with deadly consequence. What with the bottom portion of the shield coming around at James head.

So whether KB had his arm burnt or not, he wouldn't have time to notice until after the moment passed. Adrenaline would have been pumping if he'd been living enough to make use of it, let alone produce it. At this point the vampire was seething with palpable anger, a dark growl reverberating from his helm. This sort of fighting was not his forte, but, one had to adapt and endure to survive.

[5/17]

Heh.

Berserk or otherwise, Kong was a veteran fighter. Pushing into his opponent and placing his right foot in between his opponents legs, he would place that right foot behind his opponents left and use the fact there was sword lodged into his strange armor to his advantage. He heaved forward and pushed his leg backward, which would in turn cause his opponent to well, fall flat on his back.

Again.

Only this time Kong was going to along for the ride.

Assuming it worked he would take a clean knife hit to the cheek as they descended, but that was a mild flesh wound on a berserk monster, who, only assuming if it worked was already freeing his left hand and drawing his second sword during the descent. Time to take another arm off.

If it didn't work, Kong was about to take a fist full of knives to the eye, the costs of battle.

[4/17]

?! Caught?!

Well, James always had a backup. Wasn't like his arm was gonna get crushed.

"Shirouto ga" he muttered under his breathe in his native tongue.

KB wouldn't be able to spin around in place as James simply interrupted his entire attempt by punching the vampire in the back of his neck with his now, freed left hand.

Driving the strike home with all of his weight behind it, the demon-slayer would easily topple his armored opponent to the floor. The vampire would already be at a disadvantage with James behind him, not to mention being on a knee. With the disadvantage of his armor in this case, KB would find himself pinned to the ground by James's left hand and foot, the martial artist's right hand still embedded somewhere in the vampire's shoulder.

KB might be supernaturally strong enough to simply toss the fighter off him, but that might be hard to do with the armor on, As it was, it was just a delaying tactic for what was to come. The vampire might feel the burning pain in his body increase in sudden power as the demon-slayer prepared to ultilize another aspect of his style.

Or he might not. KB seemed pretty resilient to pain, but the demon-slayer's sacred fire was especially effective against supernatural beings, so there was no telling.

6/17

Clank!

A fist impacted the back of the vampire's neck area, hitting the ridge of plating on the back, a bit of the helm, and some chainmail. Needless to say, the impact of a punch did not push the vampire down onto his face, because he was still supported by his knee and one planted foot. His shield would also press against the ground if he was pushed forwards as well, and his leg being pinned just mean he got punched and James... didn't back off, negating the morninstar strike.

Then the vampire began to chant.

Something, more of a hum. Who knew. It was a lot like that really cool Pompeii song, though his vocalizations were more masculine. He made no true effort to fill in the vacancy of the choir, instead conveying his transformed view of the match in song as best a warrior could. He could lay down to the Judges and BAWWWWWW, or he could get up and rock the s**t out of this gravel scraplot.

So the still heart and veins were surging rhythmically with this outside, audible force, sort of. It was more like the vampiric fighter was just becoming pumped, and his motions were in time with the pacing of this impromptu music.

KB stood. Yeah, James was standing on his leg, leaning his weight in. KB stood anyway, pushing up off his planted foot in front of him. James' foot would end up sliding off the metal plating on the back of KB's leg, or get caught up in the back of the knee area where there was a slight gap between his flesh and the plating itself. The point is that KB stood anyway, despite what others might have thought him capable of at that moment.

When he stood, he stared straight ahead, and flexed his arms. He was still facing away from James. That is, until he looked over his right shoulder, one smoldering red eye visible from his visor, boring into the fighter behind him. "That it?" He asked, before nonchalantly resuming his aforementioned singing.

[7/17]

a-WHAM!

The vampire's head snapped forwards and to the side, the face of his helm only partially dented. His left hand lifted, covering his head behind the shield as his gauntleted fingers caught hold of the helmet and lifted. Smoothly, he lifted the helmet off his head, his head still down a bit in front of him, protectively.

"Oh yeah... That's the s**t right there." He replied, nodding as a trickle of blood oozed from his forehead. He passively regarded the scorch marks scathing the front of his helmet, before twisting around to face the fighter. When he did so, his left hand came up from the side, the shield dragging just behind the hand as the vampire drove his helmet in a clubbing motion at Jame's head.

A direct punch to the face from that angle had pretty much glanced off, but seemed enough to make the fighter remove the helmet and counter. He was still thrumming with that pulsing energy, not bothering to wait up as his right came in, aiming the morningstar at ANYTHING. Arms, ribs, face, if it got in the way, it got bashed by the oncoming assault as both limbs worked in steel-clad tandem. One hand held a spiked mace, the other, a sturdy helm. Advancing, KB would lay into James continually and without reprieve.

"C'MON!"

[8/17]

Kong pushed his head into his opponents chest, thus taking a knife to the side of the head, the small knife not killing him, just hurting like a ********, rather then the eye, which could have been quite a bit more painful. He gritted his teeth jerked his head up, attempting to do a skull to chin headbutt. While at the same time throwing his fists at his opponents liver area. His punches were compact and strong, Chinese Martial Arts afforded him the fabled one inch punch, but with more then one inch to strike he did considerably more damage. It was quite similar to a solid punch, he had long let go of the sword.

The clinch was tight and he continued to attempt to pound away at his opponents rib/liver area, with power similar to average punch, nothing terribly powerful but enough of them could cause serious damage to the ribs. Kong was not Berserk, he was wild, but not berserk. Intelligence was not hampered, he was simply out of options. Kong was a completely normal human without any outstanding skill in any area.

[5-17]

((Forgive the uninspired actions, I am really out of sync with this character anymore. The way my inspiration is going I may have to forfeit, will see.))

Well, to be honest, James actually hoped it'd strike a joint or something and get lodged in.

Then again, he didn't really wield spears either, and a piece of rebar certainly wasn't the best tool to be using as one. However, the Eredas heir was pretty crafty. Not even his teammates would know what he was really up to.

Besides, apparently the vampire shrug off everything so far. The martial artist couldn't disable him, nor hurt him much with his flames (this particular vampire looked like didn't feel pain, if at all). KB took a full force GRENADEFIST haymaker to the head. Armor aside, that would've KOed, if not outright took the head clean off a normal person. James knew KB wasn't normal, so he figured more force would be justified, but the vampire didn't even stagger.

Time to go to plan two. James reached out intercepted the helmet with his new weapon, swinging it about as if it was a baseball bat. However, a metal helmet made for a poor ball and the fighter wasn't no Derek Jeter, so the piece of armor would be simply written off as a foul ball as it rolled away on the dusty floor, battered.

James charged straight at the vampire, holding his "mace" with both hands now. His right was closer to the base while his left held it near the head. The weapon was held low at about waist level as he charged though, the dangerous glint in his eyes complimenting the aura of animosity he was exuding. The pain in his right hand was shunted to the back of his mind, and his shoulder had already recovered from the shield strike a bit earlier.

All of the fighting up to now was just him testing out the vampire's advantages and disadvantages. Sure James was starting to feel a bit winded and stressed from the constant focus, but for fighting an opponent like KB, complete concentration was necessary to keep him in the fight.

Anything less would be him getting his a** handed to him on a silver platter.

"I will send you to hell!"

9/17

• STRIKER -

OFFENSIVE

(( Griff vs. Kong ))

Are you ******** serious?

No.

Are. You. ********. Serious.

b***h please.

James did some inane st and started stalking forwards. KB had reached the end of his patience. He had tried, for what it was worth, but he was done. This was it. This was the only answer to James that KB could form, that wouldn't have his a thrown to the curb.

KB turned into a ******** bat.

Yes sir. Rodent of the night. Rat with wings. A dastardly, flighty creature. He pulled back from his approaching opponent and seemed to hop back and into the air, his armor drawing into himself. His shield and weapon seemed to meld into his new form as well, which wasn't armored or metallic or anything. Instead, it was the form of a small, cute, black bat.

BATMAN, DUNNA NUNNA NUNNA NUNNA!

He took to the skies, relatively. I mean, he didn't want to go outside of the building's shadow and into the blistering sun. He just wanted to fly above James, out of reach of his weapons or his strikes. So we'll say he was like, 20 feet in the air or some s**t. Spiraling around the fighter below, squeaking, flapping crazily. His FIGHTER seemed to have either become part of him, or, was fastened around one of his stubby little legs.

Then the bat spoke, squeaky-like. The bat-KB said:

"b***h PLEASE! COME GET SOME!"

[10/17]

With a long sigh and a short duration of MAXIMUM FACEPALM, Alphonse walked over to his fallen teammate, kneeling down and checking his pulse. Yeah, he was still holding on, good. Didn't want anyone dead now did we?

"Nice going kid." was all he said as he stood up, cracking his knuckles before he reached one hand down to grab his Foreign teammates armor/shirt whatever. Gripping it right around the neck, using just one hand, he would lift his face and chest up off the ground, however, he would simply let his legs and feet be dragged along as he moved towards the sidelines. After a few seconds of awkward and uncomfortable dragging on both of their parts her would gently set the younger fighter down and flip him over unto his back. Medics would take it from there. However the older man was not done, oh no, if one of his team-mates had lost, then he would have to claim a decisive victory. That meant he had but one person to fight, that being lord sneak up and club a man with a pipe.

"Hey! You! Yeah, you!" he said, pointing directly at the swordsman whom had swung tjhat pipe earlier, with all the fury the old man could muster. "Do you think you have it in you to beat an old man? If so, I"m calling you out." he said with a toothy grin, walking over to the sidelines where he had set his sword down earlier. Once again he did not bother with the sheath, instead he drew his blade quickly and let the scabbard fall to the ground. With an arced flourish he would strike several of the racks along the wall, causing some of the jagged metal scraps to fall the the ground. He was angry, or rather, intensely focused and prepared, because god he looked ten times more serious then he had last time. no more games, was all he could think of, no more chances.

"So? Care to test your luck?"

• STRIKER -

OFFENSIVE

(( James vs. KB ))

Note: Waiting for some stage clarifications from either the judge thread or X before posting.

Benjamin, after having completing his striker without somehow severely injuring himself a while ago, would walk up behind Snow and give him a little pat on the back. Some would see this as encouragement or brotherly love, and they would be wrong.

Nightsnow Wrote:

"The only thing I know for certain is..." The swordsman would respond, taking position by then inside the fighting area of the Scrapyard, his head lowering a bit as if turning serious...

"Lady Luck abandoned me a long time ago."

With it, the third fight has now ---

[1/17]

...been stolen.

For Benjamin's pat carried with it a light buzz that would cause the drenched swordsman to freeze for a brief moment. A moment Benjamin would use to tighten his grip and throw his teammate back into the sidelines. Yep, Snow's lucky stat was a big fat 0.

"You thought I was gonna let you haul all the action? Especially after you ******** up last round? Hmph. You don't know me at all."

He walked forward and took Snow's place standing before gramps with a defiant look and bright gleam in his eye. He carried no weapons just like the last round, his only armaments being the gauntlets around his forearms. He crackled his knuckles and closed the distance between himself and Alphonse to about 15 feet.

"Let a real man show you how its done."

]=[

Griff scowled, his DeuxMascus tucked away within it's sheath. Without much thought, he rose to his feet, kicking the opponent at the heel with some reluctant gentility. "And I'm feelin'..." He muttered as he wandered to the left, drooping down to grab Kong's blade. That's right.

Griff was keeping it.

"Goo-ood."

The blade wasn't terribly awkward, Morivan pondered as he turned once more, this time headed away, about fifteen feet from Kong's carcass. He wanted to do something terribly cheesy, and he kinda wanted to show up his allies. In that respect, he rose the opponent's blade, spinning it quickly, once, before snapping the blade to hold it under his arm. Sliding to his knees, he stabbed the blade into the packed soil.

"Flawless Victory."

[6/17]

[END]

[Griff begrudgingly nudged Kong's broken up body, stole his sword and gloated to the Camera.]

]=[

STRIKER Post

The Fiend of the West Wrote:

Kong eyed the other team, all here.

Kong was right and wrong at the same time. All of God Caliber was there, he just couldn’t see all of them. Benjamin, the last member of the team, had been watching and waiting from the rooftop of the Dante’s workshop for quite some time.

Who’s Benjamin? He’s that guy, the guy from last round who sat around doing nothing but looking pretty. That guy who until a few moments ago had been chillaxing in his black tee, gloves, boots, white slacks, and red jacket that looked a size too small. That guy who felt too lazy to bring any weaponry with him when there was so much around naturally and decided to just stick with his custom gauntlets from last time. That guy.

After waiting a bit for his captain to do his thing, Benjamin had starting moving for once when he saw KB take to the air. He dropped from his perch on the roof, carefully lowering himself down and rolling once he hit the ground to displace his momentum and avoid hurting himself prematurely. Then with a brief greeting nod to both of his teammates, he flicked on the striker switch on his FIGHTER and barreled into the arena.

But he wasn't headed for the pesky flying thing, oh no. He was heading straight for his captain, like an idiot. Or so it might seem to all those watching at home. Why would he striker in only to aim for his own captain of all things? I mean weren't there plenty of other things to aim for, like a weapon or maybe their opponent? Well folks, you'll just have to wait and find out.

"Yo, James. Can I get an alley-oop?"

He's say as he short-hopped at his captain.

Striker [1/2]

Damnit. Just as James was about to get good and ready to smear the undead b***d over the dusty floor, the p*y turned into a bat and started to fly away.

Damnit. Had to repeat that twice.

Mind you, that they were in an open lot, and it was still daytime. KB wouldn't have complete freedom of the sky. ******** vampires.

James could always toss fire at him, but KB was a small target, and-

What was that familiar presence?

"Huh?" He instinctively turned his head to see his teammate running at him. It was the Russian newbie, Benjamin. He was pretty new, but James trusted his fighting abilities enough to recruit him to the team.

"Yo, James. Can I get an alley-oop?"

Flashbulb.

Perfect timing.

He grinned, dropped his weapon, and orientated his body and arms accordingly, catching onto what Ben was suggesting instantly. He provided a sort of, launchpad with his hands for his teammate to step on.

"Course! Here's a fastball!" James roared as he put all of his might behind hurling Benjamin right at the bat-form vampire.

James was no Colossus, and Ben wasn't no Canadian red-neck with metal knives in his hands, but the two of them were more then capable of pulling this s**t off.

Zoom goes the Russian.

10/17

STRIKER Post

And thus Benjamin would go flying towards the rising bat, his body glowing a nice blue color. He'd seem unfazed by the fact that his target was getting farther and farther away but he knew that there was a limit to the how high the bat could get. KB was still after all a vampire, who was now exposed to the elements and thus forced to stay within the building's shadow. Since the sun wasn't going to be setting anytime soon, the sun would have to be somewhere overhead and thus the shade that Dante's workshop provided was not all encompassing.

That still didn't mean that Benjamin could reach the bat's final altitude as he didn't have any wings of his own, but he wasn't trying to. All he had to do was get close enough and at the peak of his leap, he should be. For at the peak of his leap Benjamin would reveal the reason why he was glowing like a radioactive isotope. At that time he would release most of his built up magical energy (since this wasn't his fight, he didn't need to save much up) into a brilliant flash of chaotic electricity. Electricity which would not only blind and shock KB but due to the explosive nature of chaotic electricity, shove him roughly out of the sky.

The little batty would have his flight cut short as he would be momentarily paralyzed and thus unable to sustain altitude. The effect shouldn't wear off until a little bit after his impact with the ground below, giving James a little time to get to his foe before he took to the air once more.

As for Benjamin, he'd be sent flying back to the ground himself but using his little bit leftover energy, he'd set off a smaller explosion in front of himself to decrease his momentum and send him crashing into the sidelines.

"Head's up!"

He'd say a moment before he used Snow to break his fall.

Striker [2/2]

Immunities Wrote:

Immune to poison ( unless specifically designed with undead in mind ), Sleep ( as per the spell-effect ), paralysis, stunning, disease, and death effects.

Resistances Wrote:

A vampire has a natural resistance to cold and electricity. This renders them immune to naturally cold weather conditions, putting them at risk only of being hurt by potent spells or weapons of these elements.

KB was flying higher, it seemed that the bat had formed some sort of plan. Of course, one had to remain aware of one's surroundings. The fact that there was a Striker occurring did not escape the smaller form of the same cunning fighter, but rather spurred him ever higher. Lightning arced across the field, that pent up energy released in a flashy show. It struck KB and sent him careening deeper into the shadow, towards the building. He did not lose any of his altitude as of yet, rather, he simply spun closer to the building, wings flapping crazily and shooting sparks of static, before orientating himself.

Then something happened as the small black bat began to climb again. Something that should have been impossible, something most unexpected.

A cacophony of shrieking voices, each shrill call matching KB's own. Small black forms seemed to burst out of nowhere, rounding the building and tearing up through the shadow towards the central black speck. A dark funnel in the sky, a massive swarm of bats drew together around KB and protected him from the harsh rays of the sun. It seemed surreal the way the flock ascended, like a school of dark fish contrasting against the bright sky.

And then the sun was gone. An eclipse had been cast by the swirling flock, an orb of black beating wings and beady red eyes in place to shield the vampire inside. KB himself was there, seemingly suspended, as the entire sphere of makeshift darkness itself seemed to be. It was in this cacoon that the vampire would make his transformation back into his previous form, expanding, thrashing, bursting free of his small body.

Wings snapped and lining fell away, bones cracked and repositioned themselves. Steel plates seemed to riddle the form like muscles beneath the hairy bat skin, before finally stretching the skin taught until it ripped and gave way. From this small form one of the Leviathan's cockiest vampires came to regard all beneath him in broad daylight, facing his back to the loathsome star above. KB would lean forwards from his nigh-mystical perch, his unarmored face breaching the protective cacoon so that he could offer a steady glare to both ODESSA and God Caliber. His eyes were positively glowing with hatred for the insufferable mortals below.

Then the bats burst away from his arm, a good number spiraling lifelessly to the ground under the force of KB's motion. He had thrown his right arm forwards and loosed the morningstar there, the weapon shooting from his grip like a missile. The observant crowd could nearly see the air being displaced by the weapon as it thundered towards the ground, soon to make impact dead center in the L-shaped lot.

When it struck it shook the earth, the entire head buried beneath the gravel. There was a relative ripple effect for the loose stones as they jumped away from the center of the blast, drawing a large target with the morningstar as the bullseye. Even the scrap metal laying dormant on the racks rattled and bounced a bit before becoming still, just in time for the the dead bats to smack unceremoniously upon the gravel.

fwop fwop fwop!

Now it was time for the vampire bat himself to suffer an equal fate, and to claim the glorious finale that ODESSA deserved. Victory or Death. The Captain would live and lead by example, and expect nothing less of his teammates. If they weren't willing to give it their all, they would never succeed. If KB kept to the shadows for the rest of his unlife, he would never have the opportunity to achieve the dreams that haunted his sleepless existence.

"I will show you fire, James."

He grinned his fanged grin as his brethren fell away completely, spreading his arms in the sky and taking the ascended form of an angel. The shield fell away and spun haphazardly through the sky towards the rooftop of Dante's workshop, while the fire of the sun consumed KB's body. He was still suspended there in the sky, almost out of sheer will it seemed, wailing in inhuman agony before gravity took hold of him and he began to plummet to the ground like a comet.

KB's flesh burnt like no other material, fire across his body heating the metal plates of his spiked fullplate armor. The padding beneath the plates became charred black, dusting the sky with a trail of dark, choking smoke. The vampire in the midst of this horrible burning effigy parted his lips to scream, flesh peeling back from bone as fire erupted from his throat in a gout rivaling that of a small dragon, more spectacle than anything else. The vampire was still far too high above the competition and the spectators to injure either, even as he fell face-first towards them.

Glowing metal began to break away like the outer hull of some damaged craft entering the atmosphere, falling away from the vampire warrior. The straps securing each piece in place were burned through entirely, so that with each passing moment another after another fell away, until the vampire was clad only in steaming chainmail. Not that the vampire could possibly reason the temperature of the metal, given that every inch of him was on fire and seemed to be cruelly combustible, so much so that there was fire inside of him.

When KB passed the roof he miraculously pulled himself forwards into a spin, loosing the rest of his flesh outwards as a pinion of fire. This fan scored the surrounding area with fire and choking smoke, not directly aimed towards anything in particular. The reeking smell of burning flesh would hang in the area for quite some time. The impact itself caused the cloud to swirl chaotically, a storm of heat and smoke making the air hazy and delirious.

When the maelstrom faded, KB would remain on a knee, one fist in the gravel, with his other arm hanging at his side. His head hung low, his skinless body bubbled and splattered the immediate area around him with sizzling, combustible puddles. The shade offered only the slightest of comforts to the boiling vampire, who, immune to being knocked out or paralyzed, remained painfully aware of every inch of missing or burnt flesh in and out. It was in this perilous position that the disembodied voice of the crazy vampire spoke his last words before crumbling into a pile of bones and ash.

"Sun... I love you."

[ Fight End. ]

[ KB End?]

One of those dead bats also had a yellow card strapped to it. How'd it get there? Who knows. Mysterious. Anyway, summoning animals is prohibited from HoH matches.