Winter Gardens

This sucked. There was snow, she wasn't pleased about the results of her last fight, and she was here alone.

Crunch crunch crunch.

Joey padded along the deep snow on the path leading up to a mysterious shed. His surroundings were very peaceful, an ornate garden with a white cloak of snow covering everything.

He was wearing a brown bomber jacket with a single white stripe down the left breast. Underneath a white button up shirt and some jeans. On his feet, a pair of classic green print converse. The falling snow caused his usually crazy hair to appear quite normal, hanging down lazily at either side of his face.

He squinted a little, spotting two figures standing a little further ahead. Calmly approaching he soon realized one of them was his teammate, Rachel. He hadn't seen her in a while being as he missed their last match..but that was another story. The other he had no idea about, but he had a tail. Weird guy.

"Yo." He called out, nodding his head slightly to Rachel whilst keeping his hands stuffed tightly in his pockets.

" Discontent amongst the ranks. " He chided, brows perking up as he watched with genuine interest~

The crunch of snow carrying in from a distance announced the approach of yet another of the contests participants. But which one would not be revealed to the eyes right away. That is not until the tall figure of one Bellanox Fatalis stepped from around a well manicured Evergreen, resplendent in a long coat of sheepskin, it's fur lining the inside to keep the Gypsy warm in the winter conditions.

Into park like setting of the gardens she strode, gloved hands hidden in deep warm pockets. Quite close to where she'd emerged, stood an unknown female and male. Not far from those two, standing proud and confident was one Roen Jaeger, her own teams captain. Cool, calm and collected as always, his easy air of refined sophistication in almost direct contrast to his slightly scruffy appearance. It was toward him that she walked, her boots crunching into the snow to leave a perfect trail of foot prints behind her.

"Interesting setting eh boss?" She quipped, coming to a stop beside her fearless leader. "It'll be covered in bloody slush by the time this round is finished."

"Against the law?"

Arian had shown up.

The pretty, dusky skinned native was no longer the beautiful looker-not right now. Sure, you could tell she WAS or COULD be pretty-but with the stitches along the right side of her jaw, the clench of her jaw, wired shut, the bad bruising on either side of it, the stitching across the bridge of her nose that attached it back in place, the two shiners around those pretty, vibrantly blue Caribbean eyes-well, she looked like she'd gotten the s**t beat out of her, is what she looked like.

And she had. But hey-the other guy needed a new reproductive system, so la de freaking da.

Cloak was closed around the woman's five foot two body, a well toned, fit build, leather torso armor with a high collar. A weapon belt hung off one curved and leather armored hip, leather flaps coming down over her thighs for better protection and to keep from showing off her entire pair of legs.

Glossy dark hair-shorter now than when she started-was left down, chin length, as the pretty woman looked over the scene she was coming upon. Already heard the bullshit.

...God, that kid.

Carefully touching her jaw, the metal in place assured her a little. She would do what she had come here to do. Drama be damned.

Came to a stop, neither standing on the right with the opposing team-nor on the left with Team Britain. Damn near right in the center, apart from them all, watching silently. Studying.

Hm. Let's not have a repeat asskicking...shall we? God-on national television too...damn.

Well, this would go better. Hopefully.

Rachel's words weren't entirely understood by the Island native-but the tone was. Arian's eyes cut to the girl again, and she gave a curt shake of her head.

"Hush." Was issued from the natives full lips, though they parted just barely.

Seriously-did she HAVE to start yelling and screaming for no reason? Jesus.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Joey stood still as she continued. Looking through her with an emotionless expression on his face. As her eyes began to glisten with tears, he let out a brief sigh and glanced to the side a little, at which point he noticed Arian. He gazed at her for a second, examining her damaged face. Was she in a good enough state to fight?

He turned back to Rachel who was now grilling the other team. She was pretty riled up. Joey walked forwards a few paces, standing in front of Rachel and blocking her from the other teams view. He eyed over the creepy guy with the tail, who was..stroking..the furry one.

"Where's the rest of your team?" he asked bluntly, meeting Roen's eyes with a lazy stare.

"You are correct as usual my friend."

Obvious disdain was the thing most reflected in the single glance that Nox spared for the obnoxious shrew who spat both threats and insults at them. Funny that even a woman such as Bellanox, who had little in the way of social grace should be better behaved in a public place. In fact that notion itself, coupled with Roen's consolatory quip brought the slightest smile to curl one edge of her lips.

"Indeed they do my friend." She responded with a chuckle, turning away from the internal beefs existing within team Britain.

Seizing an opportunity to divert the sputtering woman's rage from himself, the other team's Captain(?) jumped on the 'pissy' band wagon like a bumpkin jumping on a village hay ride. Truth was, his attitudes insinuation that Team Cannon Fodders remaining members would not show was completely unfounded.

Ah well. Some people simply can not be civilized. But then again, were I him and some woman were to chastise me in public like an errant school boy with a perpetual boner I'd be pissy too.

This she thought but did not say. No need to sink to their level. Her only response to him being a derisive snort from over her shoulder. Then she turned away from him, eyes of creamy jade once again seeking Roen's face.

"Any word on Chance's recovery?"

"Against the law?"

((Waves a little I'm about too...))

Well. She's been left alone. Good.

She hardly felt like mentally translating English as it was.

Not going to be the first to fight this time, no way in hell-Arian cursed the cold that was seeping into her shattered jaw, still healing up, forever doomed to have metal in it.

Ah well.

She backed off a step, no longer interesting in studying who was there-when some other fellow showed up.

There we are-three and three.

Someone named Chance was no here, in bad condition, apparantly.

Arian certainly sympathized-if the fourth Team Britain member had been about, bet your a** she'd be in the suite, sleeping off a nice dose of painkillers.

But no-no painkillers, and here she was.

Arian found a wire chair, snow covered. Her left gloved hand wiped the snow off in a swipe-then she turned and had herself a seat, the thick cloth of the cloak protecting the backs of her legs, as Arian pulled it closed to keep warmer.

Out of the way now, she would just...watch, for now.

Resist the want to crash and burn, without ever having made a move.

Oi. Team Britain's outcast was not in the best of shape.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Hey, dammit.

Deitric isn't Native American.

He just looks it.

At least, that's what one spectator thought while breaking the 4th wall really hard.

"Woo, let's go.. Uh.. You guys! Yeah!"

And where was this spectator? Probably off in some ******** sort of place, watching this match on TV. And yeah, he was shouting encouragement. At his TV.

[ Garden ]

"Any word on Chance's recovery?"

Chance came behind Nox, resting his hand on her shoulder. "He died, I'm afraid." He gave a pained smile, and popped a white tablet in his mouth.

He chewed the pill into dust, quickly swallowing to ease the horrid taste. Kristopher was pretty sure the prescription stated to swallow whole, but this gave him far more pain relief. With all that modern SCIENCE had done for him, he was still stuck with a cane, and a couple bottles filled to the brim with painkillers.

Chance quickly pointed to the woman across the way, taking her seat on a wire frame chair. "I want that one Daddy." He laughed, obviously speaking to one of the men on his team. Yes sir, Chance was drugged.

"Against the law?"

She's being pointed at. Arian's eyes flicked to the man who seemed...well...kind of off his rocker. Must be chance. Must be drugs. Ah, those had been kind of nice...

He wanted to fight her?

Splendid-Arian wasn't going to try talking, merely lifted her left hand and gave a thumbs up sign. Good with her.

No-GREAT with her. This way, he takes a cheap shot for her jaw-she can deal one right back out. (Scrambles to go see where he's injured)

And then...Arian's relatively good and flowing mood was spoiled by the appearance of a giant.

Well, not his appearance so much-but his eyes on her, and then-

"She isn't in any condition to fight. Her jaw is ******** crumbled."

WHAT?!

Arian was on her feet in an instant, highly offended. She had NOT gotten the ****** cut open and set with metal so quickly for ****** NOTHING!

RAAAAGE!

Sorta. She glared daggers at him, and then, of course-Arian flipped him off, a nice, new gesture she's recently learned.

"******** you...buddy." She half hissed, half said, not at all appreciating the belittling remark, the arrogant assumption he knew better than she did if she could fight or not.

If Arian wasn't concerned about a card, she might have knifed him then and there.

Glared, stayed standing, and resembled an angry and startled cat.

Kind of amusing-the metal giant towered over the Islander's five feet, two inches. She turned to Chance. "You and me. Not him." Stated, and fuuuuck it hurt to talk.

There. She had her opponent. Try and see Alex put her out now, b*****d.

Arian retook her seat with a huff. Again-she didn't want to go first. If she had to, fine-but she had last time, and didn't exactly want to go right the ******** now, okay?

((Waves My character's not me! Reminds, cowers))

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Well now, this was interesting. In some kind of miracle occurrence the entirety of Team Britain were all in one place. Joey merely stood, confused by the sudden appearance of Alex and his big mouth. This was added to by the appearance of another guy, who seemed pretty..weird. And supposedly wanted to fight Arian..who was flipping off Alex. "Wonder where she learned that from." Joey thought to himself, shooting a glance at Rachel.

Sighing, Joey scratched his head. All this drama and they hadn't even started fighting yet. He turned to Alex, not bothering to hurt his neck by staring up at his face. "You're late. I think Arian is already paired up." Joey turned back to look at Team Cannon Fodder. Another man had shown up too. It was a strange spectacle to see eight very different people standing around in the snow yelling at each other. Joey face palmed.

Trying to hide something didn't mean that it all of a sudden went away. Rachel hadn't bothered to try and shove Joey out of the way, he was trying to settle business and get this thing moving. She could be patient, she would stand there and let her anger bottle up more while waited. Another match was thrown into the fuel at the reply of Cannon Fodder's captain.

Wait? Us wait?!

It didn't make sense to her. For them to have to wait for one of them before getting this started? And in the snotty attitude to shot with it. Rachel was at that point ready to leap across and make him into the woman he wanted to be. But a series of events happened that delayed her actions. Another man came about and he spoke. Did he have an accent...And then shortly after another man. No surprise he sounded just as batty as the rest of the bunch. And then another man..This one was a familiar voice, and much like when Joey showed up, it ignited the anger with in. It was all of a sudden too much, there was no cage able to contain this beast.

Rachel shoved aside Joey as his facepalmed himself to bring herself to the front. She looked over the motley crew that had formed, nothing more than a freak show. But for the moment, her mind was set on the accent that she had heard. There was no way of hiding it, even the most experienced actors from that realm trying to imitate a Chicago accent failed. There was no denying what he was, and what he was pissed her off more than the f** from earlier. Not only were these people fags to begin with, they somehow historically and even presently thought they had a pair to control people more powerful than them.

"Is that a filthy frog I hear? I know it must be one, that rotting stench of a coward only protrudes from south of the Channel. "

Her mean eyes shifted to the rather tall and handsome gentleman. Out of the bunch, he was the only one capable of putting off such a voice. It sickened her. It angered her. Out of all of the people there, there was no one she would have taken more pleasure of stomping than him. Her attraction to him, or to destroying him more to say, caused her to step forward to the center of the two groups. With the waving of her hand, her middle finger, she dared him to come.

Roen Jaeger Wrote:

" Yahh, Trick! Yah! Ge--"

Suddenly, a mixture of snow and frozen earth was spat up into the mans face as Alex scuffed the ground infront of him with his massive armoured boot.

"Stop running your mouth little man. No-one's interested." The giant man slung his double headed axe over his shoulder and peered down at the man through the slats in his helmet. He smiled grimly.

Joey merely raised a brow. Seemed as if Alex was stepping in to defend Rachel. Kinda unlike him, but admirable all the same. Joey walked back to where Rachel had went and stood besides her, crossing his arms and watching the action unfold.

It had been a while since he had seen his friend fight, so it would be an interesting experience. As he watched, his mind raced back to the trip down to the hotel, whilst he and Alex had shared the tour bus. He had been so different then, dressed in his suit and pampered at every chance. Now here he was standing in full body armour wielding a giant axe.

Joey chuckled a little at the thought before turning his mind back to the task at hand. His eyes wandered over to the other team. Chances were he would have to fight one of them soon enough.

Alex laughed and brought the axe off of his shoulder and into his other hand, holding it diagonally across his chest. He was fully clad in his custom armor, from head to toe. The bear insignia on his chest plate matching the carved face of a bear-like monster on his faceplate. The helmet also sported two rather nifty horns that were roughly two feet long and facing forwards.

"Trust me. I am more than comfortable enough in this." He called out. Fact is, after a warrior spends so much time in such finely built armour, there is no other garb that could feel as comfortable. His movements weren't hindered at all.

"Now!" He growled, bending down slightly and tucking his chin into his chest, the giant horns on his bear shaped helmet aiming straight for Roen. "Enough talk!" He began a slow run towards the tailed man, not fast enough to run straight into some kind of surprise attack, but not slow enough to be charged either. Each step compressed the snow beneath him, and left thick chiseled footprints in his wake.

[1]

"Against the law?"

Game boy had been lowered, Arian idly pressing the kick button-but her attention was fully on the fight.

She didn't know much about Alex. Or the opponent, Roen. Her beautiful but currently ******** up face remained impassive, at the moment-though her eyes, the vibrantly colored Caribbean blues-were watching with interest. Curious. Very, very curious. And a fight was always something to catch her attention.

A death cry from the little game boy sp speaker. Arian glanced down to it. Chun Li had been murdered.

Dammit.

Arian brought her other hand back to the gameboy and began kicking a**, but she was more watching the current fight than playing the game.

Strange outlaw.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Improvisation: The mark of a true warrior. It was something Roen was bound to see in Alex as the match progressed, but for now it was just the tedium of examining each other through a series of swings with sharpened metal objects. While Alex was slowing to a halt and hefting the girth of his axe, Roen spun around. A complete one-eighty. From there it turned into the fluidity of cowardice - Roen darted away while raising his left hand to the leather-wrapped hilt of his World Splitter. World Splitter. It certainly had to be longer than four feet to be given such a title, and indeed so it was! Unfortunately, not everything was perfect. Just as Alex was uncertain of Hræðilegr's length, Roen was far from certain as to how fast the seven-foot tall man was able to swing his mighty axe. When Roen turned the other way and darted, one foot after another, he was very much aware of the graze that touched his back - the price of his gamble. The thick fabric of his greatcoat was neatly cut through whilst the riveted mail beneath instantly dented from the force. Any closer, due to Alex's strength, and it would have cleaved right through Roen's hidden armor and rented open his back.

It went to show that Roen was not going to get away with taking blows and retaliating. One clean axe-strike meant game over, and he would notice it soon enough. Now, though, was a different story in entirety.

Having barely missed being rented open from behind, Roen unsheathed the massive (yet slender) World Splitter from his back, his right hand immediately shooting up to grasp the bottom of its hilt tightly. Having stepped a good foot or so from where Alex stopped to swing, the Devil planted his right foot forward to slow his burst of speed before it was followed suite by the left. Far from being able to stop on a dime, it took a considerable amount of effort (and a pause and then some) on his part to effectively twist his torso to the right and push off of his left foot for the swing to come..

Another gamble. He had to hit the exposed right flank of Alex with enough force to buy him some time to run away once again, or perhaps something even better. Gorilla tactics to be sure, but when dealing with a monster of a man, they were necessary. Flooding the World Splitter with his supernatural perceptions and hence forth grasping the energy within to augment his own inhuman strength, the Devil swung from outside of Alex's right flank in. DeSeer, let it knock him over. Let it stun him long enough to follow up with a combo. The obsidian colored seventy-two inch sword glimmered above the ivory colored snow, hurtling towards Alex's exposed hip(? Above the hip?) Give or take the mans proportions when considering Roen's own height of five-foot-eight. How the Devil never swung so hard in his life.

2/17

Chance usually disapproved of pharmaceuticals, but after spending the last few days in a liquid filled tank, recovering from his burns, he'd changed his mind. While the burns had been healed, the nerves were still damaged, and pain receptors were in full swing. This obviously meant that he had left the hospital early. Thus entered the drugs, used to dull an otherwise excruciating pain.

He hobbled over, giving both fighters a wide berth. Relying heavily on his cane, he made his way to Arian, the injured fighter from Britain. "Bit cold, isn't it?" He commented, completely ignoring what was going on behind him. He was a bit loopy, you could tell by the way he spoke.

[I'm already in a fight.]

"Against the law?"

((That he most certainly is. Pats Alex And holy crap, is that RP in HoH?! Heart attack of joy))

Arian wasn't British. No-not from any cold island nation-but from a tropical one, smaller, lesser known-heck, the only reason it was ever mentioned at all was in connection with her-Arian was an outlawed warrior, a branded one, and rather infamous, in some parts of Gaia.

"Huthuthuthuthut." Came from the speaker in a feminine sort of roughened voice, Chun Li kicking the crap out of her opponent so fast her white boot was a blur. Arian had no idea how she had made the Chinese street fighter do that. But she was immensely satisfied with her new found gaming prowess all the same.

Sloshing of snow, and while she triumphantly beat up the new opponent-some blonde chick with leg tattoos whom Arian instantly didn't like just out of principle-but once more, her attention was not on what she was looking at.

She's wondering if he's okay enough to fight.

Either A) He was too drugged out to realize he was not- Or B) He not only was, but was OVER the top okay to fight. Maybe the drugs did something funny in his system. Maybe he was faking. With all the super human and meta people in this tourney, Arian would not have been surprised.

So as he finished his hobbling over, Arian briefly considered asking him if he was going to be alright enough to fight. But...he should know.

"Freezing." She uttered in her accented way, lips barely parting. Hurt her jaw like a b***h, the cold did-and she didn't LIKE being cold in the first place. Her legs and arms were bare, shoulders-so the cloak was what was keeping her from getting pissy and stalking off to steal a car to sit in. Courtelli Isle was never cold. Most islanders didn't like it-Arian, Arian had a personal VENDETTA against the cold.

Bah. Kept pressing the buttons with deft gloved fingers, but the loopy one was still standing there, ignoring what was going on in the fight.

Arian lowered the gameboy, vibrantly colored eyes bringing themselves up to his a moment.

Okay...how drugged was he?

"Going...to be...okay?" Slower words, suddenly wondering. ******** it was annoying-to have her language further hindered. Hurt like hell to talk. Dammit.

But she felt the need to ask. Of course-it'd be embarrassing to have the hell beat out of her, again, if he answered no-and THEN kicked her a**. But it'd be just as bad if she ended up wailing on some guy hardly able to stand straight.

She was an outlaw, sure-but just a misunderstood sort of person. ...with a penchant for violence and disobedience.

Black eyes and stitches across the bridge of her nose and along the right side of her jaw, AND a wired shut jaw, Arian was looking pretty damn ******** up herself. But she was walking just fine and things-nor was she high on the happy pills.

Maybe he should sit for now...

Arian's eyes slipped back down to the gameboy screen, where an overweight asian was trying to beat the hell out of Chun Li.

Arian hit pause, closed the gameboy, and rose to stand.

She was only five feet and two inches tall-but she still didn't like sitting in the presence of another fighter. She was smaller, but darn it-standing she at least didn't get towered over, much.

Stepped to the side and back from the chair, half offering to him, if he wanted it. While pretending not to care. She half didn't.

Paradoxical woman.

Eyes flickered to the fight behind him, raising a brow as they returned once more. Wondering why he wasn't watching, something. "Not going easy." She mentions, a nod.

Not the best fighter here-but she was going to throw whatever the hell she had left into this. And Arian had a lot left, least-in her mind. Her 'lot left' might suck compared to someone elses.

But she was going into this with the mindset to win, illogically or not. Figured she'd tell him right then and there she's not going any easier because he was injured.

Though...she'd avoid cheap shots for as long as he did.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Leaning heavily on the cane, he waved his opposite hand to the chair. "I don't need it. I'm..." He thought for a moment, brief flashbacks of the pain he had endured in his last match. "Fine. I'm fine." He tried very hard to disengage himself from the floaty feeling he was getting from the vicodin.

Alex clunked over to the giant house.

"Against the law?"

((Coolness~))

A brow delicately arched, the native skin toned woman seeming to be-well, either amused or just at ease, something.

Half friendly, just not very social.

He was slow.

Arian walked right past him, though far enough away to be out of reach of both his cane and his arms-and turned around again, at the far side of the 'arena'.

Waited for him, one hand and arm still under the cloak-while the other was up and out, bend at the elbow. Knees bent somewhat, left leg forward and right back, as Arian took the most generic stance EVER.

...cept the arm under the cloak. Anyhow. Go time?

Oh, wait, no-pulled a flattened top hat from beneath her cloak, where it had been pressed to her lower back-and straightened it out, placing it on her head, where it cocked itself sideways a bit.

Okay, now good to go.

She made a motion for him to begin-cause she sure as hell wasn't starting, against some possibly too injured to fight guy.

Friendly nature was all but gone. If you could have called it that in the first place. Now-she was slightly tense and calculating, intelligent eyes focused intently on him, all about the fight.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

[ PIME TARADOX ]

Chance quickly made his way back to the arena, forgoing his cane. He ran, and when he arrived, he was beet red. His chest was heaving, his body was on fire. "C'mon. Let's do it." A painful shudder followed his speech.

He was in the middle of the snow covered arena, hopping up and down, working out his painful and stiff muscles. His cane was still in his right hand.

[ Cane: Right Hand ]

[ 1 ]

He immediately ceased his movement and raised both hands to just below his jaw. What everyone else saw, was a simple, effective American boxing stance, modified with open palms. His cane had been discarded many feet to his side. He moved forward to meet with his opponent.

CRACK

Their bodies collided, with Chance's hands reaching for Arian's wrists. His larger, most likely stronger hands were more than ample to grip her. Another overlooked fact, his right knee had sprung up with the hope to impale her gut, or her ribs just below the breast. With her hands hopefully in his hold, his right knee would move away from a stunned and breathless body, giving him ample time to wrap his left leg around the small of her back.

With quick maneuvering, he twisted his body to the right, forcing her to follow, all the way to the ground. With his body falling down and to the right, he'd mount her with both of his legs underneath, criss-crossed, both her hands tied up over her head.

CRACK

A startling headbut to the center of her beautiful, albeit torn face.

((II)) Cane gone. Fine.

Except...Arian wasn't looking to ram into him.

There was no crashing of bodies. She's five two, and weighed less than a hundred and twenty pounds-crashing into bigger, stronger men rarely worked out in her favor.

Like...ever.

Top hat slipped ONTO her left hand, where Arian made a fist.

Quote:

--Electrified gloves-These black leather looking gloves are woven with metal wires, blackened-Arian's hands are coated in a rubber liquid mixture to prevent shocking herself before battle-and produce a chosen level of voltage. The gloves electrify when Arian's hands are fisted, pressure pads in the palm working as the switch. She can turn them off the same way she changed the voltage-a simple adjustment of her gauntlet-as they can be adjusted separately. The affect of these is centralized to the area she has struck-a low enough voltage to avoid shocking the person's entire body-but high enough to add damage to her punches to the area her fist strikes.

She skittered to a near halt when he moved forward-and did something odd. His hands came forward,but she had just shot them up-hat gripped by the brim in her right hand and now also with the left- so that he'd catch the spikes just above each bent elbow, maybe, cut his own hands up.

Quote: *Spiked bands-leather strap wrapped around Arian's upper arm, just above her elbow, displays wicked spikes jutting from the side away from her-about two to three inches long, very strong. She has one on each arm, and they are used to wound when she rams her elbow into an opponent, literally meant to tear their flesh apart, when used effectively. The strap is held securely with a plain belt fastener. Meant to last through countless battles, and the ones she's bearing seem new.

AS she brought the top hat slamming down over his head. Eyes, and all, which was probably rather uncomfortable for his nose, if she had been able to pull it down that far. She was careful not to pull it to the point the top of the hat was resting against his skull, however-there would be space, no matter what.

Silly woman. Stupid move, attempting to blind an opponent with...a hat.

Wrists at this point were no doubt seized, and the knee to the gut took her by unpleasant surprise-and no doubt him too.

Quote: *Third layer of armor...The stomach of the armor has a strong square metal plate over it, to prevent being gutted. (There is a fourth layer of armor over that, leather, so it would not be visible to him.)

The plate did it's part to span the blow-but it also did it's damage by-SPANNING THE BLOW. I mean-ow. But better than the localized damage/pain. Take the hit to the entire stomach at a lesser impact. Good design.

Hiss of air forced out of her, but the plate would no doubt hurt his knee, leave a nasty bruise later, and a strong ache now.

Arian was counting seconds, even as he pulled her along with him, damn strong b*****d-the woman indeed slightly stunned, but not as badly as it would have been. For instance-she had the presence of mind to utter a Courtelli curse.

Yay?

Left leg around the small of Arian's back-second metal plate would be maybe felt there, protecting her spine-and then-she realizes she's going to be taken down, pinned to the ground once again.

Oh HELL no. Good thing for-

Quote: Top Hat-The symbol for Team Britain, Arian has set a minor explosive in the top of the hat. It's small, but you wouldn't want to be wearing it after she's set the trigger. Great conversation piece, right? [size=12]"Against the law?"

The Top Hat exploded. Not big, crazy explosion-a small one, couldn't even kill him-though the impact of some pieces probably hurt/burned him. The noise right above his head though, would no doubt cause a HUGE headache, and possible hair-on-fire-ness might occur.

She was already twisting her wrists violently and keeping him on balance of that one leg so he couldn't fall on her-or trying, anyway-and the top hat CONTAINED the explosion, though it was, now, on fire.

...yep.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Striker Offense ijdk

[ STRIKER Counter - Interrupt ]

Chance brutally headbutted his opponent, hopfully knocking her silly. As he prepared for the second however, the ever clear sound of crunching snow caught his ears. A quick analysis told him that it wasn't one of his team mates coming from behind. What reason would they have to STRIKER? And since Joey was in his field of vision, that left Rachel. There wasn't much that could be done, without turning his head to look.

Kristopher quickly rolled to the side, taking the small fighter with him, something he had planned to do anyway.

He always did like the girl on top.

As fate would have it, the spade came down upon the two fighters just after Chance had rolled over onto his back.

Crack

Arian would have most likely been struck in the back of the neck with the spade, either killing her, or dealing more than significant damage. It wasn't something that he wanted, but it was the only defense viable, short of getting off and facing Rachel. With Arian on top, Chance would still issue the kiss he had been planning since the beginning of the match. It was short, but sweet. He quickly turned his head to look past Arian, to make sure that Rachel didn't have anything else planned. Soon thereafter, with his opponent still immobilized, Chance continued with his match. His legs tensed, and he began to crush Arian at the midsection.

(IV)"Against the law?"

That jerked a knot in her tail, so to speak-and presented a problem. She's got an explosive top hat in her hands, for one-seconds ticking off even now-for two-he had just lifted her clean off her feet, Arian lashing out with several kicks to his legs-but with his one leg around the small of her back, she couldn't propel herself back to and slam her feet into him to try and get loose.

And Arian abandoned any and all tenderness in speech due to her jaw, taking the pain merely out of reflex. "Wait-!" Alarm? Not exactly, but she knows where this is going, same place as last time-and that time had resulted in a shattered jaw and stitches and a broken nose at the bridge.

BAM!

Take down indeed, and she simply wasn't built to take that kind of fall-another Courtelli curse as she seemed to try and fight off feeling dazed/stunned-and then their positions hit Arian like a train wreck. Oh no. No, no, this was bad, this was WAY bad-and yet she still had a hold of the stupid hat, the stupid, soon to blow up hat-

Arched her back and pulled at her wrists keeping the hat held tightly in her fingers wanting nothing more than to punch him with it-but his LEGS were wrapped around and under her, no getting away! This-this was insane! "GET HIM OFF!" Not shouting or anything crazy, but definitely starting to panic, just a little bit-because once she was down, she was screwed. Flicked the hat out of her fingers, where it blew up a foot or two away from them both, contained and on fire, isolated in the snow.

The hell were the one things called?! Stars? Stairs? ********, no, no-STRIKERS! Yes-damnable English- "Stri-" Crack-CRACK.

Can you say, pain?. Yes, I thought so.

And pain indeed-she had so RECENTLY gotten the cartilage of her nose reattached to her face at the bridge of her nose-the tiny black stitches evident of that. Pain flared through her skull and brain as he bashed her, twice no less-and some stitching popped. Fuuuuck-son of a...where was...

All fighting for regained use of her hands had died down to nearly nonexistent, half pathetic movements of the smaller hands as the vibrantly colored eyes seemed to struggle to repress the blasted PAIN she was feeling and force logical thought-

When Chance rolled them both so suddenly Arian was flat out sick feeling. Her usually alert senses only just now pick up on the presence of a third person, her striker-and then Arian was smacked with the shovel.

Because Chance had rolled, he had taken them out of the way, rolling TOWARDS the swinger-so Arian didn't take the full force of the hit, but enough that her neck ached, as did her shoulder, despite the collar and the three layers of leather armor.

She wanted her arms back. She wanted to quit being dominated. She wanted to be six feet all and stronger than a man, but since that was impossible without the help of crazy a** steroids or whatever-she'd just have to make do-but she was going to beat the hell out of that kid later, or something, for smacking her with a shovel.

Some help.

At least her head hadn't been hit-WTF!??????

Vibrantly colored eyes flared WIDE when his mouth touched hers-and Chance would learn a few things. One, Arian had a very soft, full set of lips. Two, she was rather warm, as Courtelli Natives had higher body temperatures than other ethnic groups. And three-Arian didn't seem to LIKE being kissed while also hurting, and confusing acts by opponents, ones she believed were intended to make a fool out of her, were not well received.

In short-he scared her, and Arian's temper flared to life so suddenly she half forgot all the terrible aches and pains and torn stitches, forgot about stupid HoH and it's 'no killing' policy-and bit him.

What?!

Yes, she bit Chance, and I don't mean in a kinky way. There would be no turning of his head unless he wanted to half rip his lips off.

Her right leg came up, bend at the knee-cloth boot finding purchase against the ground, as she pushed forward, other foot coming up do the same-trying to jerk forward over him, though since she was still BITING him-I don't know.

Had to do something. Anything. Let's hope he let her hands go.

And then he's squeezing her. Hard.

Arian's bite tightened, then freaking GRINDED.

She can take pain. Could he? He's got the advantage here though, son of a b***h-but her breathing had picked up, and the more panicked movement of her legs, trying to kick herself forward, move-increased as well.

She could handle it-or was trying, anyway. Holding out for as long as she could-and then her breath hitched.

s**t.

(V)

"Against the law?"

He was going to freak out over THAT?! God damn, what had he thought, she'd make out with him?! Jesus-

He rolled-and released her hands. The blows started to come, and the nice, partially reconstructed jaw was ******** up once again, the wired shut mouth taking tons of damage, blood funneling into her mouth and throat again. She didn't scream, exactly. It was more of a stangled cry, and obviously-he was hurting her, and hurting her bad. She had unintentionally bitten down even harder, piercing through-and then he jerked back, readying himself to pound on her some more-he was trying to kill her.

A wire had gotten ******** and pierced through her skin-she was in so much pain she could hardly stay conscious, and her head felt heavy, body weird-she was suffering something, clearly. But-he was trying to kill her, or so Arian thinks. His shift in temperment-from nice, somewhat weird guy to instant animal-well, that disturbed her, and added to the belief he was trying to end her life. Rules are just rules-and she's spent a life time breaking them.

Her mind leapt on that as he jerked away, and suddenly she wasn't even scared, or angry, or really anything-just had to act. Arian didn't even think about it-she yanked her arms down the instant he had ripped away, close to her body-and then shot her right one up with a speed and reflex not exhibited before-right for this b*****d's nose.

He wouldn't be fully upright yet. She could reach him, because of it, having acted even as he was jerking back. The butt and palm of her hand would SLAM fully onto his nose as her arm straightened, the force of the blow no doubt snapping his head BACK-it ******** should, anyway-and as she had done that, her left had yanked a spike dagger from her hip.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

"Against the law?"

((VI))

Jaw was ****** up. A few wires poked through her skin, no doubt making her look like some kind of halloween freak. Stitching had popped at the bridge of her nose, what had been **** up again. Eyes would be black a long ****** time, is what else-

She was out of it, by this point. Any panic or adrenaline kind of...floated away, hand still on the knife and other still up, practically resting against his face-he hadn't pushed it away.

Swallowed blood, eyes out of focus and rather confused, she was rather obviously done-but not out yet.

Her hand is still on his face.

Well, lookie that...

Throat was gripped, but he'd note he couldn't actually get a HOLD of her throat, because of the collar.

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

"Against the law?"

Once again-Arian had to have a tube shoved down her throat. No doubt, she'd be carted off to a hospital, to get her jaw REWIRED, stitches REDONE, and the other things that had gotten done to her face fixed up once more, then it was just healing time.

Ta...da?

"You're seriously warning me of that? Seriously?"-Arian Lennox

Joey hopped up onto his feet and brushed the snow off of his legs. He looked over to Arian..she got KO'd..again. Sighing he looked around in search for his opponent, he'd have to fight pretty well to get the points back in their favour.

And then Roen came from the Interior albeit in a slow and pompous manner. And oh, he brought a chair with him. Just a modestly sized wooden chair. He had to compensate for the theft of Hræðilegr, because people had sticky fingers in Heaven or Hell.

Past the blood spot on the ground, past both Team Britain and Team Cannon Fodder, to a moderate distance of ten feet away from the shed, Roen had followed the footprints in the snow to right here.

And it was right here that he waited for Alex to come out and play.

8/17

PAUSE GAME

Name: Alexander Smith

Mode of Combat: British Boxing/MMA

Birthday: 12th January

Height: 7'00

Weight: 290 lbs

Vs.

Name: Roen Jaeger

Mode of Combat: Kickyoassfu

Birthday: 11/24

Height: 5"8'

Weight: 165lbs

Newscasters and audiences alike all scratched their heads in wonder.

Why the hell was Alex hiding in a shed whilst throwing random objects at an obviously inferior (physically) opponent? Tact? Some ubsurd reasoning? Or maybe that tin-can was afraid of Roen and the chair he brought along. Whatever the case may be, the news people were not entertained. Neither were the good folks who gave the (T.V) ratings. Alex was embarrassing himself, and Roen would capitalize.

UNPAUSE

" Egads! " A pitchfook came shooting out of the shed at the most remarkable of speeds. That chair in Roen's hands? He swung that sucker into the pitchfork, effectively knocking it to the side. And Alex's teammate had the nerve to call Roen the fairy when it was Alex who was the most hands on with the garden tools!

Whump! Square in the Devils hip came a spade, and DeSeer damn it all, that just pissed him off. That was the third time that b*****d tried to hit him with a projectile spade! The second time he actually did! It wasn't immobilizing pain, but still, it was damn right infuriating. Stepping out of the path of the barrage and leaving his chair where it stood, the Devil ran over to the shed and grabbed the door, idly slamming it shut and twisting the latch so it shut.

******** Alex and his garden tools. Drawing out Nigeralo and twisting it in his hand, Roen ran the length of the weapon through the door and its latch, effectively sealing the damn thing shut. Any self respecting wealthy man would indulge in a wooden shed rather than a metal one, so it would be assumed to be wood. Once that was done..well, hell. Seeing as how it was a wooden shed, it would have to be placed on spaced blocks so that its underbelly would not rot when it rained and snowed. So! Assuming as much, there should be gaps (handholds, if you will) to lean down and slip his hands between. Which, in this situation, Roen most certainly did. But that would be getting ahead of himself.

" Where the frak is my sword, you damn tin can?! "

9/17

Striker Offensive

Striker Offensive

From her vantage point, Nox could see exactly what Roen was trying to do. But even with his enhanced strength, such a feat would require at least marginal assistance. Now being the acrobatic sort, it was not hard for her to see exactly what she would have to do to help the Devil in his quest to topple the shed over onto its back, thus squashing the metal encased giant.

Switching on the blinking Fighter around her wrist, Nox glanced around for a solution. It took only a second for her to spot the chair that Roen had carried out of the mansion with him. Left sitting abandoned behind the laboring devil and at the perfect distance for the kind of maneuver that she was about to attempt. There was no waiting, no hesitation, for sooner than one might have thought given his most average stature, Roen had the front of the shed lifted and at just the right angle.

Leaving her axe on the table against which she had been leaning, Nox sprinted the few steps between where she's stood observing the contest, to the chair. At the last possible instant, she would jump up and over Roen, planting her right foot on the seat of said chair, using it's height to spring yet higher, while swinging her left foot around, followed closely by her right, and planting both firmly against the upper crest of the already dangerously listing shed wall. Both the force of her weight coupled with her forward momentum would be enough to send the building over atop the fleeing Alex. As for Nox, well... She would ride the fast falling wall down as far as she could and then push off into a tuck and roll maneuver just before the building splintered, quickly turning her Fighter off before dashing away.

1/1

The shower of glass and splintered wood foretold their arrival.

Two fighters, falling like battle-locked snowflakes, struck ground below with a dull thud. Soft snow collected on the ground provided some relief to their fall, its pristine white perfection marred by blood split from their conflict. Although Dash was doubly cushioned by the body of his opponent and he landed on top of him, the shield in between them. Whatever fantasies the captain entertained about trying to pin the guy and take advantage of the situation were dashed by the sudden impact knocking him off of his foe and forcing him to a rolling recovery. Their fall had left them a few feet in front of the mansion’s entrance, with Dash positioned between the door and Darious.

Dash stood.

Darious stood.

Then there were words.

Savoki Sanoci Wrote:

“ Get over here!”

"In a second..."

Dash felt his spirit start to rise, fueled by adrenaline and the tenacity of his opponent. He slipped his shield up his right arm and slung it around his shoulder, its services weren’t need right now. That green aura of his made its appearance once more, leaping from the ground and bouncing around his body like electric currents gone awry. This time around presence was considerably stronger. Whatever Dash had in mind for his next move was going to require a serious “POWA APPU” session.

He kept his eyes focused upon his opponent.

12 2/2

Aden was bored out of his mind at the moment. Roen had gone off to go god knows what, and Chance had beaten the fairy girl to little more than a pulp. He sensed he was short on time too, and noticed that the leader of these British Cochons. He drew his blade, and pointed right at this Joey figure. He was going to test his mettle.

"Fight me!" Yelled the Chevalier. "Fight me now!". His eyes gleamed with a ruby tinge, his teeth shining with a beastly-crazed smile.

There was nothing stopping Aden from simple, jumping on this guy after all. Chance had finished his fight, which meant another was open. In a way, he was simply warning the man of his soon to come fate.

Of course the reasoning behind him jumping through the wall without throwing Roen's sword through the explosives was because Roen had punctured them himself, and, as stated he had jumped after the ignition of said explosives.

But it seemed Roen was too much of a pansy to get through the wood, so it looked like Alex would have to use the World splitter after all. So, he threw the blade and punctured the gas canister..and then..

--Mr Kingsley Wrote:

[warning: the explosion pictured is in no way a representation of the actual explosion taking place.]

BOOOOOOOM

The huge pile of toppled oil cans and gas cylinders had been kicked from the carefully placed pile besides the door frame. This had resulted in them stacking up infront of the door after Roen had shut it. Now the next part of the plan was to actually throw Roen's stolen sword at them to blow it the ******** up, but the swordsman had done it himself. Saving Alex some valuable time.

As he heard the blade first penetrate the solid wooden door, Alex sliced with his axe through the back of the wooden shed. He had mere moments before the sword pierced the tightly compressed canisters, which would set off a chain reaction of explosions. He jumped through the weakened wall before leaping for his life.

The blast would be pretty big, and at first centered around the front end of the shed. Eventually the whole shed would burn down, but that tiny window inbetween gave Alex enough time to get away without any major injuries..the initial blast from the explosion would probably leave him sore, but the armor would most likely prevent anything too nasty.

Roen on the other hand was in the central blast radius and pretty much unarmored. His mail and the door would provide some protection, so the blast wouldn't kill him, but Alex would be mighty surprised if the poor sod wasn't severely injured from the carefully planned explosives. If the fans were unimpressed with Alex's lack of running in like a moron and swinging wildly like a barbarian, this light show would be enough to open a mouth or two.

[11]

It would blow up at about the time Roen had failed to penetrate the entire door. Would Nox also get caught in the blast? who knows. But there's no way she was jumping over the blast.

[12]

There it sat... It came from above and simply landed...a big a robot with big a speakers.

Playing fresh beats.

Heita stood before it, in his B-boy stance with five children in karate gi's on either side of him and the black ranger back to back with him holding the same b-boy stance.

Aw st...they dun did it now son. The Colonel was busting out the Hip-Hop-kido on they a...

[2/17]

The black ranger peered over Heita shoulders and began to turn around but in mid-turn, the Colonel stopped him. " It got this B..."

Stepping forward he struck his b-boy stance once more and gave a head nod...

then bee-lined for his opponent pulling the chord to start his shield a-spinning.

This was a fight not a dance competition and the judges weren't gonna score him on his flares and windmills unless they were smacking this guy in the face. Which they wouldn't be...the Colonel's shield would be smacking him in the face.

Straight Shot

Attack/Counter:

Straight shot

Location:

Head

Estimated Damage:

******** up dental work

Nasal Congestation

Aggressive Energy

Used: 0%

Added: 0%

Current: 300%

[3/17]

The H.F.O. (shield) flew over and Heita was in a comprising position. He was about to get unpretty...unless... Heita lunged forward taking the attack on his pecs. The makeshift kick knocked the Colonel back and gave him an opportunity try to rip open his opponent's face once more.

Releasing the latch holding the shield to his forearm as he fell back, Heita's shield recoiled off the ground and come back at Brendyn from behind.

Bank Shot!

Attack/Counter:

Bank shot

Location:

Back of Head

Estimated Damage:

Mild Concussion

Aggressive Energy

Used: 0%

Added: 0%

Current: 300%

[4/17]

The Colonel the was still catching his breathe and getting his footing when he felt his stomach forcefully cave in around something meaty. Instinctively The Colonel clasped around Brendyn's offending forearm to stop any follow through.

"...Big...mistake" the words spilled from his lips as he was in movement. Right hand sliding towards the wrist while the left slide for the elbow, a simple arm break at the elbow joint. Simultaneously the H.F.O. would clasp back into place on his right forearm.

Attack/Counter:

Arm break

Location:

Elbow joint of offending arm

Estimated Damage:

arm-break

Aggressive Energy

Used: 0%

Added: 0%

Current: 300%

[5/17]

They were close... so Heita had caught wind of Brendyn's left taking the necessary steps to free his right. The Colonel wasn't a grappler, he was a strike artist...so he never intend to follow through with the break, it was just a way to recover from the stomach punch and a good interrupt. It would also keep Brendyn down while Heita remained up so that when Brendyn came with the punch dagger, Heita could follow behind it with a right knee.

It wouldn't have far to travel due to their overall positioning and with a hip thrust, it could even chase after the man as he attempted to retreat.

"...where you going private? I thought you were gonna SHOW YOUR MOVES!"

Attack/Counter:

Thrusting right Knee

Location:

Upperbody

Estimated Damage:

Shock

Mild Concussion

Aggressive Energy

Used: 0%

Added: 0%

Current: 300%

[6/17]

Heita's knee dropped back down so that he regained his sure footing. With reassured foundation, the Colonel would lean back and away from the strike range of the elbow. Heita left hand had never left his opponent's right elbow and as Heita leaned back his left hand pushed out.

He was attempting to secure a near miss by pushing Brendyn back and off target. The Colonel would keep his right arm around the waist and the H.F.O. in place to block a punch dagger stabbing.

"...Alot of talk for a cadet. Chump"

[7/17]

A small hand shield relatively the diameter of Heita's forearm, it wasn't has cumbersome as most would think...just FYI.

Now back to the problem at hand, the assassin with the blade aimed to open Heita's left bicep. The Colonel's arm was too extended to reel back in time so instead Colonel went for a trade off his bicep, Brendyn's footing.

Heita's right foot snapped out in a quick jab-esque front snap kick at the calf to ankle area of Brendyn's forward left leg.

Attack/Counter:

Front snap kick

Location:

Left leg

Estimated Damage:

Muscle spasm

Loss of balance

Aggressive Energy

Used: 0%

Added: 0%

Current: 300%

[8/17]

Blood trickled slowly from the left bicep as the blades tip cut past leather and into flesh. Thank god the little leg sweep went through as it made the cut shallow. This was the second time Heita had gained the proverbial high ground on Brendyn, he would fully capitalize.

The Colonel's right leg had not planted but instead rose with the follow though of the kick by the knee, placing the sole of his foot above his opponent.

Vulcan Kick

The kick would be imbued with strike force* aimed at the chest area of a downed Brendyn.

*A focused concentration of concussive energy, output is determined by Heita but never hits harder then the ability to shatter dense humaniod armor ( such as a knight's iron/steel armor).

Attack/Counter:

Vulcan kick (stomp)

Location:

Chest

Estimated Damage:

Cardiac arrest

Loss of muscle tissue upon contact area

Aggressive Energy

Used: 150%

Added: 0%

Current: 150%

[9/17]

The events played out as if Brendyn was writing the script himself...wait was Brendyn writing the new script? Either way such things were trivial with Heita's current condition making it difficult for him to catch his footing after backing up from the backhand. He was an Air Force pilot so he was used to having his senses distorted momentarily when traveling at mach speeds but he also had instrutments to help keep his bearings.

"...Nice trick. Do you do kid's parties?" The Colonel was on the defensive. Using words and an open guard to bait the assassin in.

[10/17]

Well, Brendyn was surprised to see that everything had gone exactly as planned. That never seemed to happen, which was why his actions had been entirely conditional on Heita's choice of responses.

Vertigo wasn't his most powerful spell by a long-shot, so he wasn't counting on it to generate much of an opening, but he had other spells for that, ones that worked well in conjunction with an opponent reeling from its effects. As he advanced at Heita again, he flicked his wrist.

Spell List Wrote:

Combat Distraction

1 point

A very quick illusion, Brendyn makes a flicking motion and the target sees an illusory blade coming at them out of the corner of their eye. It disappears as soon as the target actually focuses on it, providing a short window of opportunity for Brendyn to take advantage.

The illusion would form at the peripheral of Heita's right eye and seem to be coming straight at that side of his head. At the same time, Brendyn rushed in, bending down and scooping up his dagger with his right hand. As he came up from the snatch, he shoved his dagger forward at the socket of Heita's left hip, looking to sever ligament and muscle and cut down on the man's mobility and offensive power from that side of the body.

(AP: 1, BP: 10)

[10/17]