[Semi-Finals] Ruins of Dark

Griff Morivan stood, many miles from the Ruins. It was the final morning before they would reach the arena. Strapped to his back, Sabrina in a sleeping bag, kept to his body at all times since Athan rocked her. Shame wracked the leader of Team Jörmungandr since the instant he'd (escaped/defeated) Athan, and collected her body for the third act.

"Team." Morivan stated at the campfire, the group assembled just before dawn. Sabrina remained sleeping, curled into a ball on the captain's back. "We enter round three here today. This is more than just bare combat. We're going against Shattered Steel, and I've fought most of these men. They are no joke. Everything we throw at them, they are apt to be able to not only take, but turn back at us a hundred times."

He turned, rubbing his neck, his eyes stuck on the far side of the horizon, the sun rising. "And while we're wounded, we're far from destroyed. And on the same token, we have no idea how much or how little they're hurting. The fight we're about to experience could be the single worst we've seen so far."

He looked to Sutiiven first. "We must remember that one determined person can make a significant difference, and that a small group of determined people can change the course of history. This Tournament isn't just about fighting for some goofy, pointless prize. We are fighting for a great deal more."

His eyes drifted next to Fayble. "When a team outgrows individual performance and learns team confidence, excellence becomes a reality. We'd proven that when we arrived at the Hill of Swords. We've become one body. Four heads, four sets of fists. We will never die. Especially not to the likes of the Shattered Steel. No matter how much you may and I do respect them? We will defeat each and every one of them. They'll be the staircase that'll take us to the finals."

His finger snapped upward and outward, poised to where the last of the instructions determined was their target. The place that the final leg of Heaven or Hell would begin. "Believe me when I say this. I have faith in each of you. And I hope you have that kind of faith in me... They say the faith of a mustard seed can move mountains. And I've never been a believer in the Gods. But I do believe in you. And I have faith that we're capable of rocking the world."

With that, he reached down, grabbing the strip of meat over the fire he'd set aside for himself. "We're almost out of supplies. So we will go forward and fight. And we will win." A bite into the strip, and it only reminded him of one thing. "...cause God Dammit, I want some real food."

...

His boots clapped to the stone of the Ruins. His eyes burned forward. In tow, his team mates.

TEAM SHATTERED STEEL!

I AM GRIFF MORIVAN!

WE ARE TEAM JÖRMUNGANDR!

NOT ONE OF YOU WILL LEAVE THIS PLACE STANDING!

THAT IS MY PROMISE TO YOU!

"Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" Griff knew of Canaan. He'd heard of the team Shattered Steel and it's proud history. But for all it's strengths and all it's prestige, it's leader sure looked like a sad sack. Turning slowly, he lowered the satchel containing Sabrina's battered form. He knew that the woman would be infuriated if she missed Griff's big entrance, even if she wasn't awake, or even barely in one piece, she'd kick his a** when she was up.

The smile on Griff's face slipped into nothing, a blank look, mimicking that of Athan's own. A great look for the valiant hero? Probably not. But for Griff, at this moment, it was all that seemed appropriate. "You talk big. But looking at you, you look like a bigger joke than me. So seeing as how you and I are a pair of laughs, lemme give you one. Maybe it'll make the world smile on us." His left reached over, unbuttoning the cuffs and wrist buttons on the silk shirt.

"So, back on Earth. Not the b*****d one the Julianos made when they copied Earth to make their weird, Meta Human Heaven, but the real Earth. Righto. So the Navy was massively over enlisted. Way too many people working for them. Not nearly enough money to stretch between each of'em. So they came up with their own sorta get rich quick trick." His fingers finally reached the steel under the arm, and his arm snaked up the opposite sleeve.

"Basically, they measure from any two points on your body, give you a thousand dollars... guh..." Morivan forgot. Not everyone liked to time skip like he did, and bouncing from Gaia to Fake Earth, Griff got side tracked a couple times. "...a dollar is like... a hundred Gold. So anyway, a thousand dollars for every inch you picked, but you have to retire immediately, no pension."

"First dude comes in, pretty simple guy, a private. He asks for the top of his head, bottom of his foot. He was about six feet, seventy two thousand dollars. Boom." A click about Griff's shoulder, and he drew his arm back, cocking it into a sharp angle.

"Second guy comes in. He'd been in for a few years, had some smarts about him. He extends his left arm and his right leg, tip of the middle finger, tip of the big toe. Something like eight feet, so that's nearly a hundred thousand dollars." A shifting noise, like steel against steel grinding slowly.

"Third guy comes in. Old a mother ****. Been in the game for years and years, a general. So he looks at the men doing it and very simply requests that they measure from his taint to the end of his ck." A short spit of steam. "The guys in charge ask if this general gets the deal. He just nods, and they tell him to drop trow. Their eyes start to bug out of their head. 'Wh-where is your d**k!?', they shout." Griff smirks before looking at Canaan in the eye. No closer than fifty feet, but they saw eye to eye.

"The general just looks at him with a grin. 'Lost it in 'Nam.'"

He didn't care if they didn't know what a Nam is, or where that might be. The fact is, on Earth? That joke is a killer. Sabrina would probably have died laughing. Griff, however, wasn't laughing. That grin died as soon as the joke concluded. And with it, his right arm extended in a full punch. the DOOMTRAIN blasting steam and shards of steel and brushed powder in every direction, the silk shirt being not ripped from his torso, but entirely disintegrated.

Breaking through the clouds, it would become visible as the object approached towards the opposite side-- casting a shadow over the already ominous laden ruins.

"Hehe."

Canaan chuckled at the joke, though he didn't quite get the reference back to Earth. Nothing like some light hearted banter before the blood spilled onto the stone arena.

"That's funny," when the laughing stopped, Canaan kept his smile and looked back up towards Griff, his eyes meeting that of the opposing captain. A cold malevolent gaze coupled with an eerie smile graced the captain of Shattered Steel's face. Nothing at all like the man that had been here before.

"I'm tired... I'll leave it up to you, Tygris."

//"Finally, it's been too long..."//

"I'm going to enjoy ripping you apart, Griff Morivan."

The new voice that came out of Canaan's mouth exuded great strength, confidence, as well as a deeper, gravely tone. Having grown tired from fighting in several rounds and being battered during his elimination, Canaan opted out of fighting - instead entrusting his body to the spirit of the dragon with which he shared it.

For all intents and purposes, he was not the same man that had been fighting up to this point. Griff would have his work cut out for him, if it came to blows between them. It was too early at this point to tell whether or not they would end up fighting. "So keep that in mind, when we meet at the end. It is only proper that the best be saved for last." Tygris did not care that Canaan's friends were within earshot, they could think whatever they wanted about his words.

Turning his back to the captain, almost like he were daring him to attack, Canaan (Tygris self) walked over towards a protruding stone and took a seat down.

He closed his eyes and relaxed... waiting for his chance.

The Crossed Fox Wrote:

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I'd rather we start when everyone has showed up." He said this with good reasoning behind it. "We've come this far; it would be a shame for any of us to miss such big day. Right?".

"T'would also be a shame for us to have to end this round on account of the clock running out" stated the blond from Jormungandr in a matter of fact tone. "Therefore as polite as it would be to wait, we're on borrowed time; lent from the tournament in order to allow us to sate the thirst for battle within us all. To wait is to squander our gift, to insult our benefactors, and hinder our own actions."

Drawing his second weapon from it's sheathe and approaching the ring, the man continued to speak. "What, if nothing else, are we to do but fight in this ring of honor? These words of formality are but simple acts of kindness or bravado, each speaking in order to inform our opponents of our character. But to what end? Will the audience better enjoy our conflict because we are eloquent or simple? Can a well timed word before hand allow us to ascertain our foes?"

He now stood in the ring, holding weapons tightly as he continued on his tirade.

"No. What we are here for is to partake in one of the oldest and most glorious of activities - battle. And though we do not seek to rend the life from our fated opposition, we do not seek to enlighten those who chose to engage in the spectacle. Nay, we seek to share our prowess in the art of the fight in the best way that man and beast has known for thousands upon thousands of years: exhibition. We are warriors, and words do not become us."

He raised his left hand sword again, this time directing its tip to the self appointed 'conqueror.'

"I, for one, am a man of action. Kain! Enter the ring and unleash your fury so that I may have the pleasure of unleashing mine!"

Rhoslyn had rather enjoyed the offer the Commander had made, and had reluctantly accepted medical aid from the medics. She had ordered them to leave her right arm alone, almost to the point of violence. So... for the most part, they had slapped bandages on her wounds, given her a blood transfusion, provided food, and simply sat back and watched her heal in her sleep as blood flowed into her body. It'd taken maybe five and a half hours, in which Rhoslyn had been carefully guiding her healing energies into her arms, using their medical technology and her Hand of Blood to ensure that her right arm was working properly. Well... kind of properly, her grip was still a little weak and took just a bit longer to reply than before. It was enough to notice, but she was confident that she could wield a sword. At least... 70-80% mobility.

Of course, that left her left arm, which was stitched and stapled closed. It wasn't working right at all, barely able to flex the fingers. She couldn't form so much as a fist, or even properly hold a knife. And her skin still felt rubbery, like the nerves were kinda dead. Fancy that... basically, she would not be holding anything in her left arm for this fight. And, as she'd suspected, during the run she'd pulled her right calf, or something. Every step hurt worse than the last, and she really didn't relish the idea of going into a balls-out sprint. Maybe, seventy-five percent speed, and even then she'd pay for it. She didn't like the sound of her breathing at all, for that matter. There were so many bruises and scrapes on her body that she had lost count of them all, leaving her body nice and achingly sore, of that burning not-half-as-flexible manner.

All in all, it'd be pretty clear that she had been the one taken up for Elimination. Still, as she stood in the temple and felt the thrum of deep energy resounding within and through her, she had to grin, still looking tired and a little woozy. Oh yeah... feel the power, baby! Time for her to switch from a brawler to a mage fighter, she was thinking. Anyway, after busting out a spare copy of the rules, she gave it a quick read as Griff bragged and joked and such.

Hmm... ain't no rule. Presumably. Depending on the legality of the move (eg, if the rules did not say it was against them), she would make her way up to Canaan quietly, cut off the cast, and place her left hand over the broken limb, focusing on her power. While she couldn't really fix the internal damage, there was one thing she could and would do, and that was to fix that broken bone and make sure that arm was working perfectly. In all honesty, she had spent a little time convincing the doctors and mages and such to just put Canaan's arm in a cast, and to make it look like they were doing screws and such. After she had explained to them that she was physically, legally, and magically incapable of lying and had promised that Canaan would be alright thanks to her, they had relented.

So, she kept holding onto Tygris' arm as he took control, focusing her power through him. Since there would obviously not be resistance to a healing, it wouldn't take long to heal the arm.

"Ehehe... Griff, I like your team. I'm glad to be facing you guys, since you'll be good opponents. The thing is, though... you've already lost. "

She opened her eyes and grinned at him, not bothering to hide the sparkle of amusement in her emerald/cerulean/silver eyes.

"The victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat first fights and afterwards looks for victory."

She grinned, nice and SHINY, and then walked away, still holding onto Tygris' arm.

Casually walking down the steps of the arena, Fayble mustered a sigh as she tucked her hands into her pockets. Another fight, another strange place. Looking up and tilting her hat back so she could see, she furrowed an eyebrow as the arena was beheld. This place was actually cool, kinda old worldy death Hercules. s**t~ Turning her attention to Griff, Fayble smirked wryly and chuckled.

"Megaton Hammer. I like it."

It wasn't her turn yet, but she was gunna fight who she wanted, it was a plus. Eying the man, Fayble let out a huff of air as she took her hands out of her pockets and hooked them under her belt.

"You best ******** some skulls out there Fabio. We got your back."

Once again and last for now, her sights landed on her fallen teammate. Her lips pursed, a sigh. 'Sorry kid..'

There was only one response.

She would continue with the healing and watched the fight.

"In depths so deep I can't believe"

YES. I need this more than you can understand.

CLANGkshkshskshksk - the blades clashed and it was defense against Kain's continuing downswing held at bay, Stephen's right blade attack cutting into the Devil's sheath. The power of it causing it to impact against his side, braced there, not much for bad damage just a slap, not entirely a bad thing.

Will you break this madness?

"Confusion conquers and frustration wins"

Like Kain's sword, his opponents would be held at bay, except that the Devil was charging....into a knee.

"Into where light does not reach"

"GNN."

He buckled over against the dastardly deed. Wincing, though keeping his eye to his adversary, against the physical pain that felt like a sickening relief; a manifestation of the combating souls inside of him. With Kain hunching over, Stephen would be catching a messy gash across his left brow, across the bridge of the nose, down to the man's upper sternum where the horn would be stopped by bone. All very superficial and nothing short of something that'd give Stephen a bitchin' scar, maybe cause some visual impairments in his left eye should blood seep into it.

Give me serenity. Drown me in my own blood.

"This is where pain and sorrow meets"

DO IT.

[2 - Where All Good Sleep]

Griff nodded to the pilot. "Now listen here. If that girl isn't given the best treatment available, not only am I gonna break your boss and every single member of the Heaven or Hell Committee in half, you're next." The pilot was used to that kind of treatment, since these roughneck types are all machismo. But as Sabrina was taken from him, he let out the smallest of gasps as Sabrina tried to hold onto him.

A smile cracked off his lips as the chopper took off, the wind whipping into his hair and clothes, his arm blocking his eyes. The spunk, the drive that Sabrina had was unlike anything Morivan had seen in such a young woman. Sabrina was only barely out of being a child. Up against men like the Shattered Steel, Glacier, Never Knows Best, those they'd beaten in the past, or even Griff's comrades across Gaia at large.

Few of them had what this girl did.

The Team Captain turned now, his steel hand grabbing the Fang of Midgard to brace it as he rushed along the path leading him back to the battle, his feet carrying him just in time to see Kain and Sutiiven step into conflict.

Rhoslyn Vernal Wrote:

Hmm... ain't no rule. Presumably. Depending on the legality of the move (eg, if the rules did not say it was against them), she would make her way up to Canaan quietly, cut off the cast, and place her left hand over the broken limb, focusing on her power. While she couldn't really fix the internal damage, there was one thing she could and would do, and that was to fix that broken bone and make sure that arm was working perfectly. In all honesty, she had spent a little time convincing the doctors and mages and such to just put Canaan's arm in a cast, and to make it look like they were doing screws and such. After she had explained to them that she was physically, legally, and magically incapable of lying and had promised that Canaan would be alright thanks to her, they had relented.

So, she kept holding onto Tygris' arm as he took control, focusing her power through him. Since there would obviously not be resistance to a healing, it wouldn't take long to heal the arm.

"Ehehe... Griff, I like your team. I'm glad to be facing you guys, since you'll be good opponents. The thing is, though... you've already lost. "

She opened her eyes and grinned at him, not bothering to hide the sparkle of amusement in her emerald/cerulean/silver eyes.

"The victorious strategist only seeks battle after the victory has been won, whereas he who is destined to defeat first fights and afterwards looks for victory."

She grinned, nice and SHINY, and then walked away, still holding onto Tygris' arm.

"Hrm?"

Crk, crsh...

A cool feeling coupled with stinging pain followed the plaster cast being cut from Canaan's arm. Tygris did not enjoy having to deal with the physical pain of being in control of a human body, wincing and growling as Rhos placed her hand on the broken limb. Being the suspicious creature that he was, Tygris gave Rhos an evil glare, like he were about to bite - but withdrew as soon as the bone mending began to take place.

Bone snapped back together painfully, causing a burning sensation in Canaan's chest. In little more than a few moments, the feeling and mobility of the arm returned. Ever so slightly Tygris moved the fingers and rotated the wrist clockwise.

Back to a perfect state would have been saying too much, but with the feeling again present, and the arm being usable again, when it came time to rip Griff apart, as Tygris had said, having a working arm would speed the process.

Turning to look at the battle between the Devil and the metahuman, Tygris uttered a few small words to complement her say, "Victory is assured to the one that knows he has already won the battle." It was essentially the same thing, though put in more layman's terms. Tygris had taught this fact to Canaan a long time ago, if only to further his own goals in that education.

"It seems our Devil is out for blood."

Kain and Stephen had already begun their fight, violence and blood erupting forth in generous amounts.

Rhoslyn watched with approval. Good, it was working better. Still didn't like that there was some damage she couldn't fix, though. The whole... muscles and stuff that were hurt. Either way, she kept up on the Hand of Bone. While the bone technically was structurally intact, she did not consider it sound yet.

"Almost done, buddy ol' lizard. The bone's back together but it's not quite where I'd want it to be. Too easy to break right now... and yeah, he is. Good."

She grinned and kept watching the fight, her hand moving back and forth in an area about two inches across. It was just gonna take a liiittle more power to get that bone as tough as it was before it was broken... and then she'd start working on herself. After all, she had left out a few of her powers so far, and it was getting time to use them.

"COLLECT SOME ******** LIMBS, KAIN!"

She took her mostly-unfunctional hand off of Tygris' arm and half-closed her eyes, focusing that power inward. As usual, her teeth began to shift and grow long and pointy. She simply lacked the time to do her whole transformation in one post.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

"--Don't hold B-A-ck," not meant for himself but to the other combatant. His clawed right hand went to grasp at the other's left him but cut himself short when a vicious kicked was laid into ribs, he decided to catch the leg instead. With both hands that would dig into the meaty thigh, Kain would lay claim to it.

Kain planted his feet and lifted with all of his might, the power of this place and his "Infernal Strength - Innate as a Devil and creature of the Deep, Kain, is 'blessed' with increased strength to that of an added half of an athletic human's strength. Used as an ability to lift, relatively, double his weight.", was more than enough to heft Stephen overhead as he fell backwards, meaning to slam the man onto his back.

In turn, because of his wings, Kain'd also have to suffer the consequences of the bulk crashing onto his wing. Details. The darkness was overwhelming the scent of power and the growing evil within was exquisite to taste. Was it a hint of his old powers returning or just something bloodthirsty fighters experienced in battle, he was sure that he felt Stephens own want to paint this town red.

Stephen was swept off of his feat as the devil called upon his infernal energies to toss him around like a ragdoll. As he was slammed into the wings face first, he instinctively grabbed hold of the leathery appendages in a vice grip - if he wanted to bring the man back to the ground like a club then the devil would have to take a part with him.

From this position, he wrapped his free leg around Kain's neck in order to better hold onto his opponent, and focused his energies. He wasn't aware whether or not devils had vital organs in their wings, but it was a risk worth taking to inflict some more damage.

Quote: Swift Blade: Stephen focuses his spiritual energy into his palm and forces it out into a short knife like protrusion that lasts for a few seconds. Sometimes referred to as the “shiv attack,” this move is intended for sudden critical strikes at point blank range. R2. (Spiritual Ability)

Using his left hand, he released his grip and shot the energy, hoping to give the opponent a nasty piercing. He could flail and writhe all he wanted, but Stephen had his leg and right hand locked in order to try and avoid being thrown like a dead fish.

The blood seeped across his face as the pain continued to wrack his body, his twisted smile continuing in place of a normal grimace. His eyes were wide with madness and rage, looking to take down this opponent no matter what the cost to his own person.

IS THAT THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?! WHAT THE ****** KIND OF LAME EXCUSE FOR A DEVIL ARE YOU?! YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY PATHETIC! YOU'RE WORTHLESS AND WEAK! QUIT ****** AROUND AND HURT ME!!!

[3/17]

((Edit: Typo Correction))

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

Like a flaming tower the two men would illuminate the area, a falling, raging torch. His opponent would get the worst of it around his legs and waist, burning across the pants and biting against exposed flesh. Blisters would erupt, splitting skin would mark all over his legs, he'd feel the flames as if mistaking a camp fire for his seat. 1st degree affecting his mid-upper body and 2nd degree would be marking the man's legs, it was a quick burn but it'd bring the hurt he was looking for.

YES! YES! THAT'S MORE LIKE IT YOU SONUVABITCH!

"EYAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHH!!!"

The man screamed both mentally and verbally as his opponent decided to spontaneously combust. The masochistic insanity that gripped him felt overjoyed by the pain that was wracking his body, but the last shred of sanity knew that sticking around was a one way trip to cremation. But that didn't mean he was going to crawl away like a slug being chased by a devious child holding a salt shaker. Oh no. Not here. Not now. The two of them were covered in blood and sweat and it was only right that any form of escape was made equally worth it. Something painful and showing. Something... explosive.

Quote: Shock Shell: Sutiiven launches an orb of energy which detonates on command or upon collision with a solid object. The explosion releases a 25 sq. ft. spherical shock wave intended to knock anyone in range off of their feet. R2. (Spiritual Ability)

Using the same free left hand, he focused his energies and unleashed the attack on Kain's back. At point blank range, it would effectively cause the explosion to be instantaneous, putting enough force behind the shockwave to send both opponents flying in opposite directions and cause a shower of already crumbling stone to scatter everywhere.

Stephen would land a fair distance from the center of the burst, causing a sickening CRUNCH upon impact, causing even more stone shrapnel to go flying. He roared and convulsed in pain for a second, giving all watching a magnificent scream before stopping and taking a moment to regain himself.

"Hah... hah... hack wheeze gasp Hah..."

He rolled over onto his front and started to push himself to his feet.

"Hah... hah... heh... hehheh..."

The heavy breathing started to become less reactionary and more intentional.

"Heh... heheheheheh... hehehehheh! Heheheheeh!"

The man was... laughing?

"Hehehehe! Hehheheheaaahahaha! Hahahahahah!!!"

He had made it to his feet and continued to laugh, ever stronger, ever more maniacal and hyena like. He was covered in first and second degree burns, singed right through the scorched remains of clothing, and bleeding from multiple locations. And yet he stood there, proud and mad, arms wide open and head thrust back to let the joy he felt scream skywards.

"HahahahaaAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAAHAAHAHH!!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!"

Had the stress finally gotten to him? Did the strange powers of the ring affect not only their physical and magical abilities... but also their sanity as well? Had the combat high finally corrupted this self proclaimed "nice guy" and turned him into a blood thirsty monster?

"HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! HHAHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAH!!!"

No one could say for sure, but there was one thing that was certain -

• Stephen Lasanti had officially snapped.

[4/17]

((Edit: Post Counter Added))

The two were thrown apart, Kain's back arched from the blast, his body seemingly limp. A shock of the sudden power. A thin arc of blood scythed to the air when the Devil's head was thrown back, giving him a nasty case of whip lash and series of scrapes a-commin'.

"Been poisoned in the blood-red sea"

His jaw was agape in a silent scream, no air escaped his lips having it forced out from his lungs by the force. Soaring through the air in grotesque posturing, his only solace was that his wings created some bitching drag. His toes clipping the ground but held no strength, collapsing instead onto his knees.

"I've fallen out of reach"

The dark denim tore away at the knees, the area turning itself deeper in hue with a crimson sheen. Light streaks of red smudged around the area Kain fell, his elbows and forearms, braced against the gritted stone, were marking the ruins' floor more. Something hot was tearing him up inside....ribs...some of his floating ribs were broken.

How did he...

"It's coloured by the mix of tears and the open wounds of thousand"

"HahahahaaAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAAHAAHAHH!!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!"

The man wanted organs....Kain knew he'd be pissin' blood soon. Amidst the surge of pain he was able to breathe again and....

"HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!!! AHAHAHAHA---""HAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! HHAHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAH!!!"

"Devoured by the strength of waves that feels like flames of fire"

Kain fell to his left side to see Stephen, his right slow to respond and numbed, his nerves were a wreck and his shoulders were killing him as was his neck.

"Do..you feel that!? It means we're still alive!"

Eyes bloodshot, a mask of blood, scraped hands, knees, elbows, arms, broken ribs. This place was magnificent. Kain's right wing draped over its damaged side, he wiped his mouth of blood with his left, picked up baseball sized stone and he forced himself to his feet. Starting towards Stephen, he was reminded of the sheath that used to be strapped to his left hand, but must've been lost in the scuffle, the strap itself the remnant.

Next up, Dragosani Kain at the pitch. The wind up and the THROW!

Stephen had broken some bones and the infernal thought it amusing to use some stones. A big one. The thing shot towards the man aiming to crack him straight in the chest, maybe knock the wind out of'im. Somethin' to do in the mean time before they would face off again. One thing was for certain, Kain's left handed throw was pretty damned good...save that it cost a lot of strain...and the pain threw the ball off mark, just a little lower. Gut ball. What was next?

"I surrender to the silence"

[5 - Nothing is Erased - Evergrey]

Well, The Darkened Devil was there, sitting in a folding-chair with a Corona in hand and the World Splitter in another. He was rooting for Jormungandr, which was quite odd considering Cannon Fodder lost to them in the last round. All things considered, he just disliked the other team more than Jormungandr. More specifically, Kain. He really wished Staphen would step up.

He sipped his tasty beverage, watching dutifully.

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

Crossing his weapon to defend across his chest, it was all our favourite maniacal man's move.

Stephen came charging in with the longsword that he had picked up and attempted to draw a line up the forward leg of Kain (if both were equal then this would err to the right.) He would attempt to injure the man as well as pull his guard away from his chest; open him up and aim for a weak point.

The frenzied man continued grinning like the Cheshire cat. It was a wonder he didn't just disappear, at this rate. But he did not. He was there, blood drenched and covered in sweat, burns and bruises. It hurt... oh did it hurt... if not for the madness he would likely have been on his knees and screaming, but the insane focus caused him to push on. He would no doubt regret it later, but for now he was all there, longing for a piece of Kain's devil flesh.

Flesh... flesh; why did that seem familiar?

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;

The words expressly are, a pound of flesh.

Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;

But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed

One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods

Are by the laws of Venice confiscate

Unto the state of Venice.

• Portia, scene i

The Merchant of Venice. A strange time for a Shakespearean quotation, he thought. Least, he would have thought, were he not mad with combat high. But perhaps it was a sign that part of him was in there... keeping him together while simultaneously falling apart at the same time.

A strange thing indeed.

[6/17]

OFFENSIVE STRIKER

Dragosani Kain Vs Sutiiven Lasanti

THERE. THAT'S THE ONE.

Griff had known Kain for the better part of five, six years. And while he'd never seen the move on a first name basis, he'd heard of it. And it was just a terribly disrespectful trick. Morivan was displeased with it in general. What cheap garbage. Griff expected better, god damn it.

As the wing grew taut, Morivan burst forward, his right arm reeling back quickly, his knee slammed the floor so that he could skid to the side of Sutiiven as he punched forward. "HEY KAIN!" It was poised not to hit straight on. It was aimed to slam the Weaponized Wing just as it was soaring across to smack the s**t out of Sutiiven. The idea was to smash it hard enough to drive the wing right back into Kain's torso.

The DOOMTRAIN is'a comin'.

"HIT'EMHARD, SUITS!"

Time Paradox!

________________

Fayble Wrote:

"Yasuo...

...shall we dance?"

Odd, it seemed one of the girls had already become aquainted with the shinobi's name. There wasn't a single person he had told (save for his own teammates) in this entire tournament - not even the monk. Maybe she had learned it from a press personality? Or maybe one of the staff members? At this point, the shinobi's anonymity was of little concern to him; he just knew it was time to get things rolling.

"We shall, my fine lady," he replied. "We shall."

The shinobi payed fine attention to the girls actions taken during prep time. Electricity crackled and licked at the air from her body, an obvious control over the electrical element seemed to be apparent in this opponent. The fact that it was a full body power made this even more interesting for the Iwa shinobi. He had the resistance element for it, but he had to apply it precisely in order for it to work in his favor. He knew his kunai wouldn't work, and his blade was to be used only if heavy support was needed. It was then that the shinobi's mind clicked something together.

Doton: Gansetsuken (Earth Release: Rock Staff)

Two large stone plots rose from either side of the shinobi, both measuring no less than 6 feet in height each. The earthen creations floated within arms reach of the shinobi, wh quickly thrust each into the stone objects. They immediately crumbled away into a finely sculpted stone staff, each of them about 5 feet in length and with an inches diameter for their size. With one in each hand, Yasuo would pocket each under his shoulder, pointing an end out to his female opponent. He was ready, she was ready, and so... it was time to begin this match.

1/17

Chakra

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

2 Half Bars =/= 2 Staffs =/= 1 bar used

The girl certainly didn't hesitate to start things her way. It seemed she had already chosen her course of action, and that was to hit a big a** chunk of rock in the shinobi's general direction, with enough renegade shrapnel behind it to cause some sizable discomfort. Though Yasuo could not avoid all of it, a quick sidestep to his right would get him out of the way of most of the debris. Some pebbles pelted the left side of his chest and his entire left arm, but the pain associated with them would be little more than little stinging sensations - no blood drawn yet, just some discomfort as explained. Yasuo would also take a few steps back after his side step, seeing as how that whole thing created a dust cloud that could easily shroud his opponent.

Now surely the girl would at least be off of her guard after such a move, which Yasuo assumed. Cocking back his right arm, Yasuo readied to throw one of the stone staffs at the first glimpse of his enemy, and when she came through that dusty shroud, she would be met with this,

"HWAAAH!!!"

A javelin toss of the staff aimed right for the girls center. Unlike the ruins these things were created from the staffs themselves were more compacted and dense due to the jutsu he used, making them a little more durable than the fallen ruins around the two fighters. Still, Yasuo assumed that the thing would at least break on impact due to its size. Either way, that was the last thing Fayble needed to worry about, because the shinobi had another plan click right after this one seemed to come together.

Very shortly after the toss, Yasuo's left arm would shoot up and twirl the other staff above his head where the right hand would meet it. After a full turn around the shinobi would swing the second stone staff outwards in an attempt to clock the women in the back.

"HYAAAAH!!!"

Again, the staff would most likely explode against his opponent, but the effect far outweighed the damage in his opinion.

2/17

Chakra

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1 half bar regen

"Whaa-"

The shinobi was caught off guard by the girls sudden turn. By the time his stone pole came around, her hammer was equally placed in the position of his shoulder, thanks to his fancy pants move. Since the girl made no move to avoid the pole shot, she'd be met with the breaking force of the pole. In exchange, her hammer met with his right shoulder. A loud pop would then follow, accompanied by a loud,

"AHHH!"

His shoulder was dislocated by the blow and a seething pain shot throughout his arm. Instinct took over for him now, hopping back to recalculate his thinking while he dealt with the pain.

POP!

CRACK!

His shoulder was put back into place, his arms pain still very much present in the general area. Fayble had someplace to focus on now; a weakpoint on the warrior had presented itself indefinitely, and there wasn't much Yasuo could do about it except defend it with a plan. With a new found distance (if Fayble was affected by the stone blow) would give him that time.

That electricity she had prevented him from much physical contact, limiting him to range unless he wanted to receive some damage from her clever electric field. He had a plan however, one that would prove to be both powerful and effective in his favor if it worked. It would be costly, but worth it. Wincing in pain, Yasuo brought both of his arms up to begin his tactic.

Doton: Doryu Taiga (Earth Release: Earth Flow River)

A large pool of mud formed in the earth in front of the shinobi. A barrier for the girl, yes, but something far more dangerous than what it appeared to be. This was the first step in taking control of the situation. Here's hoping Fayble had a plan of her own...

3/17

Chakra

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Two Bars Used

"Demons making trophies out of man"

I HAVE YOU!

"Nurturing from the souls of the lost"

His eyes were wild in gleeful rage-filled-bloodlust ecstasy, Stephen was going to have a better examination of pain---

"HEY, KAIN!"

"False prophets behind every lie"

YOU.

The Devils wing was hit from its target and instead met his own body. Kain's blood filled mouth in combination of the sudden strike surprised him and he spat out the liquid rolling around behind his teeth and lips. A red mist would cover Stephen's face, heavy splotches dotting and lining as well, neck and sternum incl.

"Predicting disaster in hope of horror"

Kain's sword fought against the other's, trying his best to keep up with in lue of movement due to WING IN DA WAY, only a matter of time before it'd fall from the defense of steel to the soft membrane.

This was opportunity and it was all HIS.

"I hope death finds me"

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

"With the proper god in mind"

The last thing you'll see is my silhouette etched behind that wall of fire

"To hope is to fear"

[7 - To Hope is to Fear - Evergrey]

The satisfaction of the hammer hitting it's mark was immeasurable. But the pain of the pole smashing into her right side was. In fact it stung like a mother as the very wind was knocked out of her lungs. Stumbling to the side, Fayble took the time to gasp in a quick sip of air and catch her breath as her opponent snapped his shoulder back into place.

But time wasn't to waste. Looking up just in time to see Yasuo form another hand gesture. Those hands of his were beginning to be a bit of an issue. As the pool of mud formed, Fayble spat out her toothpick. Creating distance was he? That wouldn't do. But she had a sneaking suspicion that newly formed puddle of mud would be rather troublesome.

Taking a few good steps back herself, Fayble moved her hammer to her right hand before reaching out her left hand towards her opponent. Fayble had a little something up her sleeve for times like this. Fanning out her fingers of her left hand for a brief moment, a dark, muddy aura of her own began to gather. Placing said hand back onto the grip of her hammer, Fay held her ground. She assumed she was out of the way of danger for the time being, so she'd continue to charge as she waited for him to move first. It was a little risky, but she had a feeling she would be able to deal. Plus, maybe a little intimidation would work~

--

Voltage Charge: Complete

??: 1/4 Charging

}4/17{

STRIKER

Kain V Suti

Being low offered certain advantageous vantages. Including, and probably most important, that both Kain and Suits were very close to tone another, and this situation was a bad thing as Griff could see. So, leg extended harshly, his left hand planted behind him and he pivoted hard around it, quite intentionally sweeping the legs of both fighters.

Sutiiven better get the idea, but so long as some distance was put between them, it was all good. He didn't give it a whole lot of mind as he made a bee line for the outside of the arena. Because you've only got a minute to do these Striker things.

Kain and Suits should be proud that they popped Griff's Striker Cherry.

-edit includes which fight this was a striker for-

"Yeah!" excitement rushed through every bit of his being.

The dragon hit home with this one. The high pressure spray of mud had not only hindered the girl in a way, but had actually knocked her off of her feet and into the slew of sludge. By the end of the stream, there was no doubt in his mind that she was both hurting and pissed at the shinobi. This also meant he would exploit the girls opening right now by readying another jutsu. He knew that he would need to stop soon though, as the effects of such high chakra use were beginning to exhaust him; the signs and beginnings of heavy breathing were among the man. Yasuo spread out his legs, wider than shoulder width. He'd need the support for this next move.

"Dragon," he thought, making the Dragon seal.

"Tiger," he mimicked his words again.

"Ha- AH!" It was then that gravity itself seemed to triple on the shinobi's form. His 172lb figure had suddenly become just under 520lbs, excluding the blade on his back. This was a solid reminder of what it was like to train in Iwagakure, something he hadn't done in a long while.

Flashback: Iwagakure Training Grounds, 5 years earlier

"C'mon Yasuo! You have more than that in you! DON'T BE SO WEAK!"

The instructor yelled and yelled, trying to keep the young mans adrenaline rushing. A boulder seemed to be on his back - quite literally speaking, strapped to his body by two straps of extreme high tension something or other. The young shinobi struggled to keep his legs from buckling, the things weight obviously towering over his own. He needed to build up his strength and become a Jounin, he needed to prove to everyone he wasn't a weakling, especially his father.

"Lift Yasuo! LIFT! LIFT!!!!!"

"GAAAAAAAH!!!!"

The shinobi stood up and arched forward, carrying the incredibly large rock on his back a couple of steps. Not far away, a line was placed for the students to pass. If they could get across that line without faltering, they'd be allowed two days rest and a spot in the next training session.

"C'mon, I can do this," he uttered within his thoughts. "I'm not going to fail again." He had tried several times before and failed. "I can do this!"

"I CAN DO IT!!!"

One step...

Two steps...

Three...

The kid just wouldn't give up this time!

Many steps went into it, and eventually.

"DROP!"

He'd make it...

The Iwa-Chuunin had finally passed the strength and endurance test for his Jounin qualifications. As soon as the rock dropped from his back, though, He too followed in its tracks.

BAM!

Right into the dirt, "Heh... hehe." He simply giggled at the thought of passing through, before passing out. That was one REALLY big rock.

This kind of thing wasn't anything new to him in the least. In fact, it felt lighter than that boulder. Still, with age and time he had grown rusty in his lifting skills, and so it was as if that boulder was once again on his shoulders instead. Not onlt that, but the female made her quick approach as well.

"Here we go again," he told himself. Yasuo had but one seal left to create without his concentration broken, and with very little time to make it in, he was beginning to think this would be closer than he would like. His arms struggled to keep their positions, his legs shaking under the intense gravity, but it wasn't going to stop him. His hands finally came together again, after the girl had managed to get around the mud pool and finish up her approach.

"Hare..." there it was, the final seal, and just in time to see Fayble slide in front of him and raise her big a** hammer!

"I'm sorry," his last words to the girl in though, making it look like he had given up. She had no idea what was in store for her now as his head struggled up to look at her right underarm.

Suiton: Mizurappa (Water Release: Violent Water Wave)

Mizurappa Wrote:

The user can concentrate their chakra within to create and shoot a heavy stream of water from their mouth. Depending on the amount of chakra the user puts into the technique, the pressure can very from a heavy flow of water (Such as the velocity of level 3 rapids), or a high pressure shot of it (Equal to that of a 500 PSI Water Hose). In some cases, it can even be concentrated to cut through earth and stone, at the expense of more chakra.

Cost: 2-4 bars per use (pending strength desired)

Rhoslyn opened the case, and withdrew three items, still pretending to look at the floor. The first of these three was a big, heavy cast-iron skillet. The other two were knives, floating about in the air through Rhos's telekinesis. She held the skillet in her right hand and gave it a few test swings.

Quote: Stephen found himself being taken down by his own teammate, taking the fall and rolling - hard. The maneuver made it so he was barely being missed by Kain's flaming saliva. Grunting, he pushed away from his opponent, racing to his feet and putting the old sword up in a guard a short distance away... He began to focus his energy, commanding it to flow more efficiently, to swirl and become one with his body. It was a risky move, and if it backfired he would practically be beating himself. But he had fought so hard to make it this far and he'd be damned if he was going to end it without giving it everything he had.

She turned her back, her feet slightly wider than her shoulders, right aimed about 90 degrees away. The knives went to the "border" of the fight, one kinda hovering to the back-right-side of Suity and the other to the front-right-side. Relatively speaking, at least.

STRIKER!

She swung the pan over her right shoulder, weight on her lef foot. She turned her feet to get her weight over her right leg, left arm stretching out, body weight low and ready. A deep breath, and she spun as she moved back.

One spin! And FLING, into an improvised frisbee throw, her left arm coming in as she spun. The skillet veered towards Suity's head, wobbling a little in the air. It wasn't a very large skillet (6.5", or so), but at the same time, Rhoslyn was willing to bet that it'd knock him out, maybe put a crack in his skull. She was sure that he'd get concussed if he got hit, either way.

At the same time, the knives flew in angled up - the back one was at a shorter angle, aimed to skewer Suits directly in the back of the knee. The second one, however, came straight-on for Suity, clearly going at an angle where it'd sink in right under the jaw and keep rising. Literally, under the jaw. As in, he would probably have gum or tongue damage, but even if the knife somehow forced itself all the way up into Suity's head, he'd end up with a scritchy sinus, not "convulsions followed by death." Sort of like a KNIFE UPPERCUT, not an attempt to lodge the knife in the back of his throat. She was being careful to not kill the guy, so the odds were more in favor of this one being a narrow miss. As per the last time, these knives would sink in at about an inch per second until they ran into bone.

In terms of arrival, the skillet would get there within a half-second. The knee knife would hit a half-second later, and it'd take another second after that for the mouth-mutilator. In short: Skillet at 3.5, knee knife at 4, and face-knife at 5.

Back to the Striker! Using her spinning momentum, Rhoslyn took a big step to her left, winced, and raised her right hand at Suity's face, charging towards Kain as she thew POWER into her Hand of Blood.

Quote: |sidhe hand of blood|: Rhoslyn's right Hand of Power grants him several abilities: a ranged touch attack (untyped magical, about 2' wide from the center of his hand, shaped roughly cone-like in its forward projection). The ranged touch attack causes cuts to appear on or within his target - within three meters, this power causes damage akin to a shallow knife wound. However, the nature of this attack (reflecting one's own power back upon themselves, in essence) means that those who do not use any supernatural powers will at best get what looks like claw wounds if Rhoslyn's right hand touches their bare skin. On the other hand, a pure mage would be supremely ********>

Suity had shown that he was, clearly, a POWER fighter. And he was charging up, and in a Power + area. Further, Rhoslyn's own power was boosted by the positive. So, Suits would feel like dozens of blades were doing their best imitation of a blender all over his face, ears, and the top of his head. If he tried to advance, it would only get worse. To put the damage to scale, he would probably have his face look shredded, but it wouldn't actually pierce too deep past his skin or invoke Eye Scream.

"STEP IT UP KAAAAAAAAAAAAIN!", she bellowed as she charged for the duo. She threw her left arm around the devil, hand on his chest, and pressed forward with her chest to support Kain's head against her boobs as her right hand began to aim a little lower, aimed to savage Suity's hands and forearm, maybe a little of his side too!

Quote: |sidhe hand of bone|: Rhoslyn's left Hand of Power allows him to control the bones (or exoskeletons) of organisms he comes in contact with, as well as his own skeletal structure.

She triggered her Hand as soon as she came into contact with Kain, not so much trying to control as to co-pilot with her own power. He knew exactly what to do with it.

[Time Elapsed: 6.45 seconds

Total time of Hand use [Blood]: 2.45 seconds

"" [Bone]: 1.5 seconds]

Here's What Could Have Happened Wrote:

Original Post

But This is What Really Happened Wrote:

Read Post Below

Quote: "One spin! And FLING, into an improvised frisbee throw, her left arm coming in as she spun. The skillet veered towards Suity's head, wobbling a little in the air. It wasn't a very large skillet, but at the same time, Rhoslyn was willing to bet that it'd knock him out, maybe put a crack in his skull. She was sure that he'd get concussed if he got hit, either way."

Stephen stood focusing his energy and glaring at Kain when all of a sudden he heard a strange whistling sound to his side. His head snapped to look at what was coming and just as he did -

"OHSHI-!"

CLANG!

-wobbly airborne pan to the face!

Quote: "Sort of like a KNIFE UPPERCUT, not an attempt to lodge the knife in the back of his throat. She was being careful to not kill the guy, so the odds were more in favor of this one being a narrow miss. As per the last time, these knives would sink in at about an inch per second until they ran into bone. "

As he toppled back he would find himself receiving one knife in the calf and another grazing by his face. Catching himself as he hit the ground, he grunted, spat, and got to his feet -

Quote: "So, Suits would feel like dozens of blades were doing their best imitation of a blender all over his face, ears, and the top of his head. If he tried to advance, it would only get worse. To put the damage to scale, he would probably have his face look shredded, but it wouldn't actually pierce too deep past his skin or invoke Eye Scream. "

• and proceeded to get his face attacked by... something. He gripped at his face in attempt to wipe it off, impossible though that was. The sword in front of his face made a line as to where the effect was cut off, however, so he'd have his right eye in good standing while the rest of his face was... um... razor-bladed.

When the pain subsided he grunted and glared at Kain, who seemed to be donning a new set of armor (or something like it) and had... some chick forcing him to motorboat her, apparently. Whatever, he didn't care.

"YOU! OUT OF THE WAY!" he barked angrily as he charged in with weapon at the ready. He held the sword in one hand and brought out the other.

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

When he got closer, he would let loose his signature attack straight at Kain and his ally. If she retreated, Kain would get a face full of blinding light. If she stayed put, SHE would get a face full of blinding light. Either way, upon collision the orb would burst causing enough concussive force to stun one of them momentarily, and enough of a light to temporarily blind them both if they didn't have the sense to cover their eyes before hand.

Which, seeing as neither of them had seen the attack before, Stephen presumed they didn't.

Stephen shielded his one remaining useful eye during the moment of bright light, then rushed in to bash Kain (or his teammate, whoever was closest) repeatedly in the face with the butt of the sword.

[9/17]

Antique Queen Wrote:

Blood started seeping, dripping from her wounds and mixing with the mud. This wasn't good. If something didn't happen soon, Fay wouldn't be able to stay coherent. Blood loss is no one's friend. The pain started to flood through her system now, making her gasp out and grind her teeth.

And happen something did.

SPECIAL STRIKER!

Fayble vs Yasuo

It's time.

Supreme Jerk Commander Wrote:

And happen something did.

SPECIAL STRIKER!

Fayble vs Yasuo

//"What a mess..."//

Time to clean it up.

Pressing the button on the FIGHTER, Tygris reared up from his seat and charged into the battle between the ninja and the hammer wielding woman. Canaan's body was clunkier and less fluid than the dragon body he had grown accustomed to during his lifetime, but he did not allow it to slow him down.

Rather than activate the armor and wings in the explosive, flashy way that Canaan did, Tygris went about it in a less conspicuous fashion. Blue energy plates formed around the proper areas of his body and 'snapped' into reality fully formed. His understanding of how to activate the powers far surpassed Canaan's, giving him the edge of still being able to hold onto stealth. (3 seconds in)

Using the combination of a jumping lunge and a mighty flap of his wings, Tygris ate up the last of the distance between him and Fayble in a few seconds (2). Entering the field of stronger gravity that the girl had enacted around herself, Tygris felt his momentum slow - slightly. Gravity, being a weak force unless there is large amounts of mass involved, didn't have that huge of an impact on him. Pulling his right arm back and straightening his hand into a knife edge, Tygris came down with a massive chop aimed at the back of the girls skull.

"Surprise!"

Given the poor girls condition, this was only going to add to pain that she was feeling, not to mention making her blind or flipping her vision upside down for a few seconds (as the part of the brain that controls sight is in the back of the head). A knock-out was possible, anything more was improbable, unlike Rhoslyn, Tygris knew how to hold himself back.

There was no killing intent involved here, only the intention of producing enough OOOMPFFFF to take the girl out, or deliver her swiftly into the arms of his teammate.

There were a multitude of factors to consider however, either way, hit or miss, Tygris would be making a quick exit after this attack. (2)

[/striker]

Time passed, the battles were finished and both teams took a little bit of an off, lunch, laughing, jokes. Enough to allow some time to pass. But the sun had begun it's work toward the far side of the planet. Or, technically, the planet worked it's way around so that the sun would no longer be showing. What have you. Regardless, it was just a hair before Five thirty, and one could almost hear the souls of the dead as the wind whipped through from above. Tattered cloaks and chattering bits of shattered steel rustled in the bustling gales.

Morivan stood, looking to the sun, looking around the ruins briefly. Blood covered the arena floor, a feat to behold, considering the crackled, uneven floor. He decided to make his entrance, so to speak, pressing into the arena itself in the directly of a crumpled dusty skeleton wrapped in armor. He knelt down, his hands pressing into the skeletal body. "Here, General, I'll trade you. My sword for this stuff?" He muttered, setting the Fang next to the body, taking from it a frayed cape, a gorgeous jade tone, as well as the left gauntlet.

"Canaan." Griff began as he began to roll into the arena proper. Sutiiven ('s had been wounds treated/body had been laid to rest) and Fayble (leaned against the battered ruins resting/lay curled in a ball, tattered and beaten). He knew it was time to step up and begin the work. Time to show these useless ******** that made up the ever good but never golden Team Shattered Steel how Heaven or Hell was won. Sure, the odds were stacked against him, but that was when Griff Morivan always did his best and worked his hardest. The cloak flashed through the air, resting loosely on his shoulders. His right helped to affix the heavy gauntlet to his left hand. it wasn't spiked or any of that, but there were some sharp, ornate features to the sturdy steel glove.

"Isn't it about time we got this really started? The dead are singing. It's time we really get this rolling, isn't it?" Griff smirked as the wind washed over his sash. "Sun down, ruins of the dead. Just seems right, eh, buddy?"

[1/17]

[Griff Morivan steps into the arena, snatches up a cloak and gauntlet and drops the Midgard Fang, stands at the ready.]

Griff took a few deep breaths, his eyes still locked on Canaan, his mind focused. He must remain clear, he told himself. He had to keep his wits about him, because if hell broke loose and Griff lost his cool, it'd all be over. Plus, all that magic was gonna be a slut to break through. He slowly strafed around to his right, his eyes narrowed.

His right arm pulled back, elbow locking with a quiet 'kachook'. Griff would step into strike range, his left fist rocking forward with a solid punch aimed for Canaan's forward most fist. Basically, a provocation.

[2/7]

[Griff moved forward and to the right and delivers a straight punch to Canaan's fists, aiming to provoke.

The classic tactic of testing the waters.

THUNK

Griff's fist hit home right into the back of the solid steel gauntlet, doing little in way of breaking Canaan's guard or focus. What Griff wanted though, to provoke an attack, he would get in spades.

As soon as Griff's fist was on the retreat, Canaan's right arm (the one presumably struck) snapped forward rapidly, fingers curled and claws aimed to cleave across the warriors face from left to right. (Canaan's) By swiping at his opponents face from inside to the outside, he avoided any chance at having his arm grabbed by Griff's other arm.

Even if he didn't land a successful hit though, if he took the warrior off balance, that was all he would need to gain an edge.

1/3

2

"Craaaaaaaaaaaaap!!!!" was the only thing on Yasuo's mind right now after his water fiasco. It wasn't the fact that the hammer continued on, but rather the kind of toll this gravity spell seemed to have taken on the shinobi's body. Instinct told him to dodge what was left of the hammers strike, but that seemed all but impossible, right?

Oh, right, gravity.

SHOOM!

Yasuo stopped resisting against the spell Fayble had cast upon his, turning his head and bodies weight to the right, allowing his body to shoot to the ground and slamming into the crumbled stone and dirt. The hammer would recklessly travel along his left side and graze along his lower calf area. A shock was immediately sent through it, up into his leg and around his mid-section, causing Yasuo to lose feeling in that area for a time.

"DAMMIT!" was the only thing he could say, and say he did - constantly. "DAMMITDAMMITDAMNDAMNDAMN!!!!". Air seemed to come back to his winded form as well, it sounded.

Rolling away from the girl was a real good idea now, and again he did such. Nothing more simple than creating distance between the two again.

6/17

Chakra

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half bar regen

"DOOMTRAIN!" Fans cried at home as Griff crouched down and attempted a straight towards Canaan's midsection. It seemed that the captain of Jorg had been planning this one one step ahead!

There was one thing he should have known though, he'd placed himself in the perfect position for Tygris to make one of his signature strikes.

Every fan that witnessed the following moment knew nearly instinctively how Canaan was going to react to this! They had been observing his fights all through the course of HoH! C. Fox had been on the receiving end last round, and now it was Griff's turn.

Dodging the claw slash was like dodging a jab, there were better, less energy consuming ways to go about it. It relied on the claws to do the damage, not so much the rotation of the hips or sheer momentum, like say a haymaker. Dropping into his lowered position essentially "mounted" Griff to the ground when he attempted his punch - unfortunately though, DOOMTRAIN hit a broken rail.

"HAH!"

With the same, nearly bone crushing force that had relieved C. Fox lungs of air, Canaan shot a left knee strike UPWARDS into Griff's chin, driving his weight in behind it. Nowhere for Griff to go! Knee strikes were devastating in close range combat, and Tygris and Canaan alike used them to their utmost advantage.

Griff's punch would still be going forward, couldn't stop a committed strike, but with the impact of the knee and Canaan's body weight being driven forward into it, most of the punches momentum would be lost upon contact with the body.

If Tygris could send Griff to the ground, then it would be time for some good ole ground n' pound.

2/3

3

No, all wasn't lost yet for either warrior. It had gotten intense so quickly, that many back at home were probably losing interest already, which sucked. Regardless, what was going on was what both Yasuo and Fay had to deal with.

The shinobi managed to roll away some ten feet, lay flat on his back and take a breather for a moment, ebfore looking in the direction of Fayble. The girl managed to get herself crawling with a nice wrap around her wounded arm, having been able to slow the bleeding. Her crawl was strong and solid, but slow in its own regard - giving the shinobi the rest he needed to regain a little strength. His left leg was still numb and responded only a little bit to his attempts.

"Move!" he'd say as Fayble closed in with her dagger. He couldn't get it to move as much as he needed, and was forced to take the course of last resort - he reached into his vest and took out his sharpened kunai.

She looked over him, raised her arms and-

FWEW!

Yasuo shot his left arm up and caught the girls axe-handled hands below the wrists. Her strength was waning, but filled with the will to win; he felt terrible for putting her into this next situation, but it was what he felt was necessary.

SSHHNG!!!

His right arm shot up under the other armpit, and pressed against her skin.

"I... will warn you... once." The words struggled to release themselves from his throat. "Stop now... and walk... away. I don't want... to hurt... you."

The utmost seriousness was put into his words now, and hs focus was put against the girls press once more, if it had not yet stopped.

7/17

Chakra

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"Waking up blind and blind you must be"

His body fell to the right with the added weight, the momentum of his left wing throwing his center of gravity more. The attack instead moved to brace against the overbalance, all would correct itself, that is, when Stephen decided to play the ol'huggin' game.

"So stupid of me to believe in your hypocrisy"

IDIOT. How do expect to beat me with these poor choices!?

"Gave it all up for life in a dream"

Inertia took the Devil to fall on his back with the man clamped around him, Kain's clawed left hand, after letting go of his sword, would dig into the grasping arm choking him. Those nasty infernal fingers grinding and tearing, if he couldn't pull the arm away he aimed to rip out the tendons. A choke: Powerful and a fantastic move to fell him in a place that promoted endurance...if only he learned...

Quote: Immolation - He also exploits his immunity to fire, engulfing his body in flames to sway those who would try and grapple him.

"So foolish of me to not stop your infidelity"

He was in a choke hold yes, but he wagered that he could withstand a world without air for a time more than Stephen could go without flesh and air. Previously 2nd degree burns would char to 3rd, being the legs and waist, rendering them pretty much useless. New 2nd degree burns would appear to cover a gross amount of his body, the pain would be immense, quite possibly to the point of forcing the man unconscious.

"Unfaithful"

Under the bulk of the Fire Devil, cradled around his torso in an attempt to choke him out, there wouldn't be enough time to escape the immolation that cautioned before. It was foolhardy to try and hold something so volatile. Nobody get's close to him, not without getting burned.

"Unfaithful to Life."

[11- Waking Up Blind]

Griff enjoys Chess. And the fact of the matter is, when you play Chess, you think no less than three turns ahead, although the pros will throw around preposterous numbers around like thirty. Which, of course, it garbage. But Griff was fond of the three to five turn area. That gives you quite the pillow the plan ahead, think, and get your head level.

He was eye level against an enemy capable of making magic armor, and the spirits of the dead had done more than enough to sharpen everyone's powers. And sure, Canaan, Kain, Rhos, Yasuo, Fayble and Sutiiven had their magical woo woo powers and Ki/Chi/Soul/Focus/Chakra/Karma boosted to the fullest. But Griff didn't have those powers. Griff had only his mind. His concentration. His perception. And let's not forget the statis of Griff's foot planting. His left foot pivoted against a cracked stone, his right flat to the floor.

The air shifted, bone and cartilage creaked, clothes shuffled and armor rattled. Against anyone else, and hell, maybe even against Griff if it had been in another time or another place, this would have ended the fight. The poor sucker would have been on their back, and the Draconian Spirit inhabiting Canaan like a sock puppet would be on top of him and have eaten him alive with no hope of survival.

BUT THIS IS GRIFF MOTHER ******** MORIVAN.

His pivoted foot instantly pressed down, his right scooting back as he launched backwards. The kick was hard as hell, and he would rush to his feet as he slammed backwards. The knee came close. Damn, did it ever come close. With a short stumble before regaining his composure. The Piston in the DOOMTRAIN didn't release. Had to have that impact. Much of a shame. He had several plans in the works, but nothing. Arm retracted, left fist out, Griff got back to his footing.

"Ooh. Exciting."

[4/17]

[Griff kicked off of the cracked floor he had locked his foot against to dodge the knee strike, and readopts his combative stance. Slight taunt.]

Our hero on the ropes? Could the DOOMTRAIN be derailed by some spiky looking punk in what appears to be gatorade colored armor? The spear was careening for his hip. Jesus, you'd think Team Shattered Steel just wanted to make sure Jörmungandr was dead. Not wounded. Not beaten. Dead. Sutiiven nearly bought it. Fayble's head was being pursued. And perhaps Griff was all the same. Maybe Canaan meant to undo Morivan's own mortal coil.

Griff's Options were slim. He could only do so much at the moment, and it would seem that Canaan had this assault monopolized. So Griff would continue what would be called a strategic retreat. Although, he'd call it something more along the lines of a recollection. Morivan took advantage of the small amount of space he had gained from his initial ducking away by bouncing to his right before preforming a hard Aerial. Now, if Canaan had the ability to entirely change the speed of his hard rush and redirect his momentum in time to wheel around and catch Griff... well, s**t, no one could have beaten that kind of power to begin with.

But he landed and hit the ground running, his feet carrying him to a the far wall where he would crash to his knees, snatching up what appeared to be a Paladin's Tower Shield. He was close to the wall, and either direction could, potentially, be used as a method for escape. But his back was to the wall.

[5/17]

[Griff preformed a right flip to avoid Canaan's bullrush before rushing forward to a wall, grabbing a large shield.]

I think we went over this. Griff liked Chess. One of the best things one can possibly do in Chess, particularly against an opponent who is cocky, high strung or full of himself is to, is to lead that opponent into a what appears as an obvious kill, only to destroy them with a bishop that you'd moved to the side fifteen turns back.

"Escape?"

Griff stood as the winds as the souls of the fallen wrapped around him. The Fist of Gaia. The Vagrant of Strata. Air Walker. DOOMTRAIN. Griff Mother ******** Morivan grinned as the massive green cloak cracked over his back, the wind giving it a gentle, flag like ripple as he stood with the shield in his left. His eyes narrowed as Canaan began to charge forward.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM!?"

A rapid spin and Griff would release the loudest, most bellowing war cry imaginable from a man smaller than a truck. This battle shout would have brought Athan Cole to his knees. Ebris would have taken off his hat and saluted with grodfragged tears in his eyes. And certainly, somewhere, Enki Leviathan was watching going, "That kid started in my arena."

This war cry and the actions that followed would take place when Canaan was within fifteen feet. Essentially, the point of no return. It would probably work against Griff. But, mother ******, it's Heaven or ****** Hell, LET'S GOD DAMNED ROCK!

With the War Cry, Griff would spin on his heels, lowering rapidly with his right arm crocked at it's absurdly sharp punching angle before shooting loose in typical Duh-duh-DOOMTRAIN fashion. But... not at Canaan. Quite in fact, it wasn't at any living thing. It was at the crackled foundation and the battered wall itself. And the stress line just could not handle the kind of pressure of Griff's full blown, plus the added effect of the DOOMTRAIN.

For a moment, Griff realized that no sentient being had yet experienced DOOMTRAIN for what it was. They'd seen the punch, but no one had felt the hit itself. All hearsay. But whatever the full effect of DOOMTRAIN, inanimate objects had proven quite incapable of surviving it in typical fashion.

And as it was, Canaan would have to slow down and reverse immensely to escape what was happening. A building, including what appeared to be a second floor and a pillar, were falling on him. Griff hit the deck, curled under the tower shield, using it as his shelter.

This was either stupid or brilliant.

[6/17]

[Griff let out a remarkably loud war cry before spinning on his heel and punching the base of the wall he was against, bringing the thing down on Canaan and himself, where he would promptly hide under the tower shield as a small lean-to.]

There was no obvious movement.

Stones settled. Dust blew aside.

There was no obvious movement.

...

Now, for the less than obvious stuff. The lean-to worked pretty well, and the pillars that fell with the wall made it so that there was, in fact, some crawl space. Not enough for him to stand, but he could get to crawling. First line of business was to use what would colloquially be called his 'act' phase reconnecting the couplings on his arm. From there, he would immediately flip to his belly and begin to scuttle across the floor, shuffling over rubble, bones, armor and weapons, moving as carefully as possible. Fortunately, he was given some cover with the shattered stone above him providing a sturdy noise buffer.

He would get back to Fang of Midgard and draw it from the hand of the body. All things considered, this whole planning six or seven moves ahead was working remarkably well. So far, Tygris had failed to do anything effective. It was... well, astounding, really. Morivan proceeded to head back to the larger, spacier area, where he could move a bit more. Time for the plan to come together.

Of course, there was nothing to tip the opponent off to any of this.

Mana

[1/3]

Turn

[7/17]

[Griff scurried over to grab Fang of Midgard and made his way back, the noise drowned by the downed wall settling.]

-edited to fix sizing- -second edit, forgot to add a counter for manacharge]

Six years ago, griff spent some time as a military man, and was one of the soldiers dispatched to the Gambino Mansion Incident on that fateful Halloween night. There, he got his first taste of fighting in a war zone. There was more to it than just barreling through. Particularly against something as strong as Tygris. Of course, Tygris had just made a gigantic mistake by underestimating Griff.

Fang of Midgard in his left, he scuttled around quietly, listening for the stress crumbles of dust and debris. His shades, he realized, had cracked in the stress of the wall falling. Not terribly surprising, perhaps. But they worked in so far as blocking the flecks of limestone from penetrating his eyes. But he did see where Canaan was for the crumbles. He also saw, quite importantly, directionality.

NOW!

Morivan's right hand reached around, the steel arm snatching up a Claymore, the massive sword swinging wide before stabbing up through the crumbled wall at a harsh angle, aiming to gash Canaan's back wide open. Or at least give him some back pain. But the second the sword was thrust to it's max, stab of whiff, Griff would abandon it, rolling into a different location.

Mana

[2/3]

Turn

[8/17]

[Griff waited until Canaan was over him and walking away before thrusting a downed Claymore for his tailbone before crawling to a different spot.]

Antique Queen Wrote:

Grunting as he went to hold onto her wrist, Fayble's eyes narrowed as he spoke. His blade threatening her other underarm.

"...WARN me?"

She spat, rage building in her chest.

"Wrong answer."

No hesistation, no worry, no holding back any longer. This girl was now a threat to his life, and there wasn't going to be anything stopping him from preserving it.

SHHHHHNG!!!

The blade would cross up into her skin and muscle, ending the use of her other arm before anything could even be initiated. Yasuo would toss her to the side at this point, just to get some breathing room unless she had somehow been able to miss the strike completely. No arms, bleeding, she needed medical help, and regardless if she wanted any, Yasuo at this point would not let the girl die.

"You're done." He'd say, rolling away and getting back up with a weakness in his left leg and arms. "Please... don't resist." The girl was persistent, but she really needed medical attention.

8/17

Chakra

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Half Bar Regen

Canaan had accomplished, more or less, what he had been wanting - to smoke the rat out of his hole. A cloud of dust and debris sprayed up around Griff as he exploded up from beneath the ground, only to find Canaan already putting distance between himself and the warrior in his line of sight.

Quote: Regardless, after the energy stomp, Canaan would quickly remove himself from the rubble and plant his feet on firm ground.

While he didn't entirely make it as far as he had originally intended, Griff didn't get as much bang for his buck as he wanted either.

"Come and get me!"

Griff roared in with a monstrous attack and Canaan immediately reacted by folding his right wing in front of himself for protection. Turning his body perpendicular seconds before impact, Griff's sword-magic struck alongside the wing, whatever forces in and around it slicing in through the heavily armored magical appendage. In an explosion of sparks and light, the wing blew apart from the force the attack that was barreling into it.

That had never happened before.

Now he was open to attack.

An attack that came in as fierce as Griff had wanted it to, landing smack dab right into his collarbone. It broke like a cracker under the intense force, Griff's fist punching into a crushed messed now. An extreme mix of anger filled Canaan, along with adrenaline and stomach turning pain. Griff had managed to land the first actual hit of the fight, and through exceedingly cheap tactics. The first effective move landed against him.

However, only a true novice loses all faith after being hit one time. Griff was not the mighty warrior he strutted about believing himself to be (he was a great fighter though) - Canaan saw an opening immediately left in the wake of the attack, one giant glaring ******** ME LIGHT.

Griff could only mentally celebrate landing his punch for a split second, as a new kind of pain would greet him very quickly. Canaan's claws would sink deep into the side of his left pectoral, and from there they would RIIIIIIP all the way up from Griff's left to his right collarbone, taking a significant chunk of flesh with them.

That's right ladies and gentlemen, Canaan had just ripped off Griff's left man-boob. A slashing attack such as this was sure to set them both back away from each other. However, the fight still wasn't going to be over.

1/3

9

Dragosani Kain Wrote:

"Waking up blind and blind you must be"

He was in a choke hold yes, but he wagered that he could withstand a world without air for a time more than Stephen could go without flesh and air. Previously 2nd degree burns would char to 3rd, being the legs and waist, rendering them pretty much useless. New 2nd degree burns would appear to cover a gross amount of his body, the pain would be immense, quite possibly to the point of forcing the man unconscious.[/size]

Stephen gripped tightly as his opponent lit fire again. He screamed at the top of this lungs, his skin charring and blackening all the more. Why was he trying so hard to burn him? There were so many less dangerous ways to stop him... but immolation? Was the devil that scared of his opponent that he would stop at nothing to prevent something as simple as a choke hold?

This was his last gambit. Despite the danger, he wasn't going to let go. Honestly, it would have probably been more painful for him to let go and irritate the current injuries at this point. Would the devil risk the danger of incinerating his opponent, or turn off the flame?

Fight... fair... you... b***h...

[11/17]

STRIKER - OFFENSE

Sutiiven vs. Kain

Fo realz this time!

"I couldn't agree more. Dunno if you wanna drop the armor all together. Can't say I'd blame you if you didn't." Morivan was bleeding pretty good. A chunk and a good bit of flesh is gone. But regardless, he was prepared for the fight. He drew up his fists, slowly walking forward. He kept on his toes, his eyes narrowed. Left arm forward, right arm backward. Time to fight. Time to fight.

A right strike from the steel arm. No DOOMTRAIN action, just a good ol' fashioned punch. Left kept to his face.

[11/17]

[Griff throws a right punch... ah... yep.]

Griff was already going for Canaan's weakened left side. Though his arm was usable and he could defend himself, with a broken collarbone on that side, it would make things much harder.

Option one was to move in close and go for an elbow strike, but with Griff guarding his face it would be a waste of energy. A punch happened to be as bad an idea as trying for the elbow strike. Moving into striking range also meant that Canaan would have no choice but to take a metal fist to the face, and ducking around and trying to counter attack didn't leave a whole lot of room for a surprise.

Canaan went with a different tactic entirely.

Taking a step back as Griff moved in for the punch, Canaan rotated his hips to his right and sent a powerful left roundhouse for Griff's right knee. In regular martial arts, that roundhouse can be shrugged off and the fighters don't lose a lot of pace, but with Canaan's increase in physical strength and the addition of his steel greave, he could buckle that knee in one shot.

Since he couldn't go through Griff's punch/defense, he was simply going to go right under it instead.

Provided he could land his attack.

If he could injure that knee, it would hinder the generals mobility. Leave him vulnerable to the combination of attacks Canaan had planned ahead to use. He needed to gain some ground over Griff, and quickly.

3/3

11

"Constantly looking over my shoulder"

FOOKATHUKAFOOKATHUKAFOOKATHUKAFOOKATHUKA!!!

...flying a little low....his eyes were still quite patchy from the blinding effect, but it was well enough back to notice the chopper and what would come.

SUCCUMB! YOU HAVE NO OTHER CHOICE--"GIVE UP!"

...!

And then she came, like the battle maiden she was almost shaming the Valkyrie, bearing a weapon that didn't seem so practical. Gungnir wept in hope one of its cousins would be used, instead a tonfa. The Devil's eyes dilated and knew precisely what he'd against the banshee and, yet, he felt no fear about his predicament...

"Forced into the darkest corner of the mind"

Why is there no more satisfaction? Is this not what life is about?

Kain's grip grew immensely powerful as it would dig further into the meat of Stephen's arm, so much that his fingers would drive themselves into his opponents. His immolation finished and he RIPPED out his left hand, bearing all but the bone;muscle tissue, a couple tendons and a spray of blood. Short strained breaths, quick as they were would sustain him a bit longer, though he surmised a better chance of deadening the limb by tearing it to s**t. The action would, no doubt, make the arm as useless as the legs of his opponent. The Devil's own legs kicked up to meet the excellent platform of her heels-to-bum displayed by the falling maiden; Her knees---

"I find myself not trusting anyone"

HAHAAHAH-YES!

Racial Qualities Wrote:

Adrenaline Rush - When in battle a rush of blood and energy is sent to the parts of his body that is in need of added power. This quality is mostly used as an increase of energy for Kain, giving him the ability to heighten his endurance in an area of his body, increased half of his muscle strength, includes speed, for a turn.

A good deal of shock would be absorbed by his own legs but Stephen, on the bottom, would be taking to an even worse situation...

Quote: Sure, his bloody breastplate or whatever would probably help with that . . . in the same manner that a graham cracker on top of your S'more would make that claw hammer squish your marshmallow a little less.

"And distrust leaves you lonely"

And that his armor did help. Kain was just a reinforced graham cracker, his armor a dark chocolate, the stone ground of the ruins being the other cracker. The already roasted marshmellow, Stephen, would be enjoying all of the rich goodness of excessive agony wrought on by his own teammate. Suffering the weight of his teammate, Kain, The Devils own push against Sabrinas descent (shock absorbtion) and the pressure applied from the drop. The Devil himself would be awash with pain aswell, sending stars throughout his body and stealing strength from his body, pressure on a broken body never helped. Knees would crunch against the toasty legs of Stephen, bruising his thighs, putting terrible strain on his knees.

The Striker need not even finish, it would be a surprise that from all Stephen had endured, and now, that he'd be able to continue. Alas, it would be as if Sabrina jumped into a knee drop against Stephen.

[12 - Watching the Skies]

EDIT- Clarification

Antique Queen Wrote:

The temporary stalemate was broken as he decided to take action, the femme would decide to make an action of her own. The kunai was metal, and metal conducted electricity. As Yasou sliced and cut into her underarm, Fayble released the built up electrical charge to the blades contact with her skin.

This time there was no getting away from the effects of the shock. Given the nature of a electricity, and the way she dispersed it in a quick shock, 300,000 volts of electricity surges through the victims body, making them tense up. As soon as the power takes it's course, the victim is temporarily paralyzed from the attack.

As for her arm, the strike would not leave it completely useless. The reason the other arm was down for the count was because her tricep was virtually missing. Given the amount of blood that she had lost, and now again, was losing she had to try and end things fast. Coming down with the stab, Fayble cried out in frustration. But now, her focus wasn't the stab, it was this.

Rearing her head back Fay smashed her forehead into his nose, and given the effects of her power boost, the headbutt was many times stronger than that of a normal one. She reeled for a moment as the effects of the attack effected her as well, it felt like her brain was rattling in her skull. Panting, she brought herself up once more to bring her forehead down upon him one more time.

PAK

The sound of their skulls echoed her own as she rested there, her face on his. In pain and panting, Fayble fought against better judgment to wait and see if she had knocked out her opponent. It would be miraculous if he wasn't, but seeing what he's resisted thus far, somehow, the femme wouldn't be entirely surprised.

Voltage LvL. 2: Charged/Used

Discharge: Activated

}9/17{

(Edit: Changed position of headbutting. And words for the kunai wound.)

"s**t!"

The shinobi was shocked with the electrical force of a one-second taser shot, disoriented to a new level. It was a simple release however, not a sustained charge, meaning he had a recovery time in all of this. Surely the shaking would have jumbled her other arms muscles and tendons, and caused whatever strength that was "supposed" to be pressing down into the stab to dissipate. However, this wasn't the case it seemed, as she was pressing down with both arms as if nothing ahd just happened.

And then suddenly, a headbutt from nowhere.

No, no no no. A short charge only meant he was delirious for, oh, a second may be, so when the girl reared back her head, he found that he was able to move - sort of - as he did before; just with more sweat, and more stiffness. When her head came down, Yasuo did the only logical thing at this point (since he was on the ground and continuing to resist the girls unreal stabbiness). He launched his head up, headband forward to absorb most of the incoming blow and allow himself to sustain such a blast with minimal damage - besides, he had taken significantly less damage prior to this whole happening than his opponent. It really wasn't a surprise that he would be able to withstand it at this point in the fight.

"CMON!!!!" He yelled out before making contact.

PAK!!!

The sound of a single skull hitting the steel plate of his head band would echo out into the airwaves. The thing was dented inwards, the force thrashing the shinobi's head. He was awake, as it was apparent by the loud,

"AWWWW!!!!"

that eminated from his person now. He was pissed off by such a blow, hurting like hell in the head and dazed like no other. However, it was now time to see how the girl reacted to having her tremendous force of a headbutt turned around on her own person. Regardless, if he was given the chance, Yasuo would FINALLY roll away in his dazed state - confused as ever and with a laze in movement.

_________________________________________

Meanwhile, back at home,

9/17

One more half bar added onto the thing that I don't want to post right now.

A Roundhouse is a deadly effective weapon in a brawlers arsenal, but perhaps Canaan thought too highly of himself, delivering it to a skilled opponent who wasn't too horrifically torn up just yet. It seems like the Draconian Knight thought too highly of himself, or didn't think that Griff had proven he was capable enough.

Regardless of reasoning, Griff would catch the roundhouse long before it delivered, moving in kind to twist his hips, exposing the back of his knee, where the kick would immediately cause his knee the buckle and collapse like a pup tent's framework. Unlike cheap a** family camping gear, however, Morivan swooped in, his right arm immediately wrapping around the leg. The hand gripped into the thigh as a whirring noise began. Griff promptly forced his left leg up, exerting his will to lift himself. He didn't waste time overthinking it, cranking his gauntlet clad left for Canaan's collarbone-and-or-throat-area again.

Because, god damn it. If he was gonna lose, this ******** wasn't about to gloat about it.

[12/17]

[Griff twisted to absorb the roundhouse with his knee folding, grabs the leg with his right and gripping at the thigh. Standing with Canaan's leg in tow, he would punch with his left for Canaan's collarbone/throat.]

Canaan had expected his roundhouse to be blocked, it was more often used as a way for him to set up for a launching knee strike. That is exactly what the warrior had been planning to do, too.

Had Griff blocked the left roundhouse with a coiled leg, Canaan would have vaulted forward and blasted him in the chest with a right knee - but no. Instead Griff did something that even Canaan realized was a mistake, it opened up the path for an equally devastating avenue of attack.

As the general grabbed tightly to his left leg and moved in to punch him, Canaan performed an enzuigiri with his right leg. Essentially, his opposing shin would glide along Griff's left shoulder and violently slam into his neck/jaw. The steel greave and Canaan's already considerable strength only added to the knock-out factor.

However, Canaan didn't plan to stop there, upon contact, a brilliant flash of blue would radiate from the point of contact as the dragon-knight released an mild explosive attack. Trapped in his own attack, there was little Griff could do now to avoid being completely and utterly boned.

In the back of his mind, the words of one C. Fox, echoed about. "Your KUNG FU IS WEAK!" "THIS IS FOR YOU FOX!", Canaan thought, hoping that the martial artist was watching his fight.

1/3

12

b***h, you have no Kung Fu.

This move wasn't something you could just glance off. It also it wasn't one you could do sneakily. Griff had already been hunkered down to punch forward, and when he saw Canaan hop and bring himself up and around, he would press his head to his shoulder, the greaves slicing over his ear and giivng a bit of a gash to the back of his head, tearing hair out with it.

And then the blast. Nothing anyone could do about the blast, it would break over his back, scorching his skin and leaving his already bleeding ear now ringing. Hate bubbled up in Morivan just as his flesh blistered under the sudden and intense heat. But his metal arm was not prone to the little knee jerks of pain, and he was capable of keeping hold. Not only that, but it seemed Canaan hadn't really given it much mind at all. Especially that whirring noise.

Of course, now, he would have to. The Mecharm requires a few seconds to analyze and strategically place pressure, but once it does, it becomes relentless, and in an area as sensitive to pain as the thigh, the remarkable pressure suddenly being expressed upon the muscle and bone would become outstanding. The arm would pull back at great length, cocking into it's angle with a clank.

His knees would hit the ground and Morivan's left fist took a second to recover from the searing pain of the burns and the ringing, but he'd get it together. How, you might ask? Why, by bringing his fist down at full speed toward the back of Canaan's skull. Much like the Captain had done to Fayble in her fight, Griff aimed to bean the Draconian hard enough to make the world taste purple.

[13/17]

[Griff narrowly dodges the headkick, taking a slice to the ear and back of the head, as well as burn damage over his back. The Mecharm would begin to exert a great deal of pressure, while his left fist came down to smack Canaan in the back of the head, near the base of the skull.]

Rhoslyn had taken the time to retrieve her knives after the other fight. So, Right now, she watched the fight and saw the attempted... swing.. kick... thing.

Quote: And then the blast. Nothing anyone could do about the blast, it would break over his back, scorching his skin and leaving his already bleeding ear now ringing.

It hovered in front of her, and she tilted the blade slightly.

Quote: The arm would pull back at great length, cocking into it's angle with a clank.

Hell no!

Regretting that she couldn't really get in on the fight due to her leg, the fey sent the knife through the air with all of the TK-force she could muster, aimed to skewer Griff in the right kidney as she pushed the button.

Quote: His knees would hit the ground and Morivan's left fist took a second to recover from the searing pain of the burns and the ringing, but he'd get it together. How, you might ask? Why, by bringing his fist down at full speed toward the back of Canaan's skull.

And that's about when it'd get there. It'd pierce through pretty well, turned properly on the side to make sure it'd get there. Well, assuming the getting-to-be-signature move wasn't getting noticed.

Her hands burst into flame. Sparks and such came off as the ball swelled.

[3-ish seconds.]

Griff couldn't do much to prevent the blast, and seeing as it was small enough not to kill both of them, it would damage the arm, but certainly not break it. The fingers stopped squeezing. They didn't release, not even close, but they didn't tighten any more. Twisting hard on his left knee as a pivot, he turned on that knee to his right (essentially taking getting kicked across the nose, shattering it, but at least he dodged the hook) and promptly extended the arm, even with all the jerky gripping from the hand, the piston was just fine. Essentially, Griff DOOMTRAIN'D the crushing vice into Canaan's leg. More or less.

Now, in that turning, Griff had accidentally moved so that his belly would be pierced. The knife came from nowhere, and he would look directly up, his eyes sliced into daggers of his own. "You... BASTAAAARD!" He bellowed as he focused all the impotent rage, all the pain flooding from his belly and into his throat and across his left arm. Like a blast of lightning, an explosion of rage, the gauntlet clad fist would come'a ROCKING down, aimed for his lowest rib where the lung and liver overlap. It was a straight forward punch. And it was ANGRY.

[14/17]

[Griff's Metal Arm was blown but kept hold, the piston releasing to slam the downed hand and Canaan's dug-into leg. Turning, he dodged the neck hook, took Rhos' knife to the belly, and then brought his left fist, gauntlet and all, down into Canaan's lowest rib/lung/liver.]

THE FIGHTS ARE OVER

STORY MODE IS GO

((We had discussed the possibility of having Canaan shock Griff. Now, this wasn't something I had considered when writing my profile, and a shock to the arm would have basically acted like a lightning rod hooked right into his spine. Canaan was torn about doing it because it'd murder Griff, but doing otherwise sorta violated the way Canaan would react normally. But I went ahead and wrote a death post regardless, just in case. Cause I knew I didn't have time to write this in tangent. So, assume Griff was shocked.))

((clarification. Obviously, this didn't happen. Alternative ending.))

~!~

Griff released a bellowing scream. But this was different. There was no rage to this. No anger. Just an amazing amount of pain. Just a blast of hot, concise, burning pain. The lightning blasted down the machine arm, overloading the Central Nervous System Dock, and sending every volt super condensed into his spine and right up into his brain. His left hand spasmed frantically, his eyes flashed open, mouth going wide.

...

Griff stood quietly in the kitchen, his fingers deftly working to chop the sausage to a pile of near slivers. Across the oven, a large wok simmer rice, bringing it to it's white, perfect form. The pot beside him bubbled quietly with the black bean soup boiling away the excess liquid, refining the sauce to a perfection. Behind him, a rack of ribs and a large turkey, cut into many different pieces cooked over the grill.

"Papa!" Evelyn shouted, bursting into the room to rush in. "Papa, can I help?" Her brown hair had been pulled back into a long, thick braid, pink barrettes holding the strands in place. She had her mother's giant brown eyes, as well as those big, grinning cheeks.

"Absolutely, baby, yeah. Can you go ahead and start chopping those mushrooms over there? Chunks, nothing too small." he said with a smile. His apron was stained from where he had rubbed grease or juices onto it to keep his hands dry. As he turned, Alsoomse bustled in, grabbing a pitcher of lemonade, a pitcher of tea, one of water, and a small bottle of scotch for the men. A quick peck on the cheek, and Morivan smiled as his wife bustled past.

A moment or two later, Morivan came from the kitchen with Evelyn at his side. Potato Salad, corn cobs and a giant salad. Ribs, wings, the sliced up turkey and the black beans and rice with sausage. There, Griff set it down on the table, at which point, Connor, James, Kirothan and Damon cheered, Asherah, Ryke, Colin, all the members of The Fist of Gaia and Jörmungandr, everyone gathered around for this massive meal, laughing and having a good time. For a moment, Griff smiled before noticing a figure off to his side. Turning, he saw a silouette in the distance.

Minutes later, he slipped off, walking up beside Terran. The two looked at one another, talking for a moment before Griff finally brushed his hair out of his eyes. "...So, Terran... you died a couple years ago." To which he saw his oldest friend simply nod. "I mean I saw you die. So I know all this can't possibly be real."

"It's real enough, Griff. But hey, we've got a party to go to." He didn't speak. Or, rather, his lips hadn't moved, but he very clearly had said it. Just a smile on his face as he turned, placing his hand on Griff's shoulder, ushering him back to the gathering of his friends and family.

...

There, Griff lay, quiet now. His eyes gazed off into the air, just placid. The littlest smile on his face as he faded off.

By now, his team was feeling a bit better, since there was a considerable time difference between their fights and Griff and Canaan's. But Griff was just barely wrapped up when all st went down. Towering golems made of the bodies of the dead and the weapons and armor of the fallen. What... the ******... was that?

"What... the ********... is that?"

Yeah, Griff, we said that.

He stood tall, the gauntlet still affixed to his hand, his eyes narrowed. "Well, folks. Those of you who want to? Run away, take the wounded. Me? I'ma fight."

******** yeah.

Rhoslyn stared as the energy went along and a golem ******** Katamari'd itself into existance. Not one to take this bullshit quietly, the fey raised her arm and called her broadsword to her hand, a snarl on her face. She nodded at Griff's words, and took a step forward.

Ow, not such a good idea.

Another few limps forward, and she stood beside him.

"I'm staying. All I've got is my kids and my lover... but most of all, my pride. We stand together."

She finished her speech as she stood to the other side of Griff, still wincing as her sword blazed defiance, sparkling and flashing in the light. Glamour met elemental energy and did fancy shiny things, like bits of flame and frost and such running through it. "Dunno how much good I'll be... slow. Still under the limits. But I've got power. Plenty of it."

Griff decided in that moment.

Sutiiven is geting a raise for a Starfox reference.

A caravan was currently moving toward the northern mountains, rocking as the terrain did not hold back on giving a bumpy ride. Sitting in the backseat was Chen himself, holding his phone to his ear as someone spoke from the other end.

"I still do not know why you are gambling your career here, Chen. You know that if the tournament plays its cards right, you can get charged for government infringement and suspended for who knows how long."

"I'm always gambling my career and my life everyday I do this, Chief. Someone has to take chances, or else, the world is going to continue to do what it wants. I'm no hero, nor do I ever want to be one, but I at least want to contribute some sort of justice. Even if it means stopping a corrupted organization."

"You're as stubborn as ever, Chen. Look, whatever you're going to do, do it now and do it fast. The last thing we need is one of our best being taken out due to some guy wanting to rule the world or something."

"Don't worry. This case is almost wrapped up. I'll get back to you."

The inspector closed the phone, the vehicle slowing to a stop just below a rising cliff which housed the destination that he has been looking for, aka the temple where the tournament was taking place.

"Here we are," said the heavy accented driver. "This is as far as I can take you. The rest is up to you."

"Thanks," Chen said, handing him the money before stepping out of the car. His adjusted his coat as the door was closed and the car took off. He stared upward at the risen rock, knowing that just overhead was where the temple was present. He had a good feeling that the tournament's security was going to be watching the place, so infiltrating was going to require a degree of stealth. With that, he began climbing up the rocky surface. He just hoped that everything leading him up to this point was correct. But as always, he didn't feel alright about this. He never felt alright about things like this.

The little bit of concentration he had been able to build up had just as quickly been broken by the arrival of officer Chen. Why was he here? What had lead him up to this point in time? Truly it did not matter, as all of the help would be appreciated when it came to fighting this thing.

Speaking of Golems, it seemed the thing had managed to close in on the group - or what was left of it at least. Yasuo reacted by jumping forward and reaching for a protruding steel arrow on the side of the things right leg. They gave the monster a decor, in a way, though it proved to be a disadvantage to the thing. There was always something that the player needed to help defeat the boss, after all.

"HURK!" Yasuo gripped the well emplaced munition. The first step of many in defeating this thing.

(short post to get things going)

Chakra

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4 bar regen

(( Since I don't know if Rhos and Griff are gonna post again...))

Hoping Ross had taken all the necessary steps, Canaan gripped tightly to the fey's left arm with both hands, did a 360 degree spin and slung Ross directly up towards the giant golems face. The goal here was to try and dispell whatever magic was holding the monster in place at its joints. In this instance, Rhos would most likely be aiming to take the head off first. Deconstruct it from top to bottom.

As for Canaan, having used up a fairly substantial amount of power, and still recovering from his current injury - namely a broken collarbone - did a tactical retreat behind a nearby large pillar. Once he gained some of his energy back, he planned to use this pillar as a means of both offense AND defense. Only time would tell how well this was going to work, though.

"...Tch."

So is this what you brought me on board for, Noah? As an insurance policy just in case these fighters were too beat up to handle whatever this temple had to throw at them?

Athan stepped away from the chopper's open doorway, already undoing the commanding Full Windsor knot of his tie as he headed towards the opposite 'wall' of the airborne vehicle. The tie was cast aside, getting caught in the wind and swept outdoors, where it would float around as a red herald of Athan's forthcoming intervention.

What's your game, Noah? You were never this obvious with your motives.

An ebony right hand shot upwards, grabbing a massive sword from one of the overhead cargo racks. With seemingly little effort Athan lifted the giant weapon from its resting place and slipped a harness over his head, securing the weapon to his back as he made his way back to the open door, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves as he headed towards his first real 'test' since Barthavos.

Guess I can't really complain.

Both hands on the outside of the door now, gripping only to keep Athan in place as he timed his jump. The helicopter dropped altitude, which was probably an unnecessary precaution on the pilot's part. Athan wasn't aiming for the ground when he pressed off, launching himself from the helicopter and forcing the pilot to re-stabilize as four hundred plus pounds fell away from the craft.

Time to see...

Ten feet wasn't a huge distance, but it was enough to gather up a serious amount of momentum as Athan's right and left hands gripped the hilt of his Rook's Destroyer, loosing the weapon from its harness before he brought it down over his head and attempted to smash the heavy bladed end of the weapon into the golem's "face". If such an abomination even had a face.

...if all that rest paid off!

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Athan's battle cry was met with the sound of rock being crushed underneath the weight of his swing. It was a satisfying noise, something that he expected would soon be followed the entire creature falling apart underneath him. Unfortunately, whatever forces held this thing together seemed to be in a fighting mood. Athan did not fall straight through to the ground but was instead still at about chest level on the golem, using his sword (which was now wedged in place somewhere around the golem's "neck" area) for support.

Needing to get down somehow, Athan planted his feet against the golem's chest and kicked off, launching himself backwards and freeing his sword in the process, allowing the golem to set the laughably small helmet atop its shoulders as though it were a new head.

Athan meanwhile landed rather unceremoniously down at the foot of the stairs, finding it a miracle that he wasn't impaled, let alone capable of keeping his balance after falling backwards for twenty-some odd feet.

"Heh."

Left hand still holding to his sword, Athan started to walk forward, ascending the stairs two at a time as the construct roared in defiance. His right hand, now temporarily free of the burden that was his weapon, flexed its fingers several times. It was a pretty silly gesture, Forgotten Matter didn't develop cramps, but it was a habit of his. Athan would pause at the top of the stairs, the Forgotten Matter that composed his right arm from the elbow down thickening in portions before spreading up the length of his arm, tearing the fabric of his nice dress shirt in the process. Judgment had been cast, and Athan would be acting the role of Savior this time around.

Pieces of rock pinged off the armor covering his right arm as he picked up his advance again, his eyes narrowing at the damage just one misplaced swing the golem's sword could inflict.

His head turned slightly, eyes shifting in their orbits to peer at Canaan, who was standing behind a pillar just between Athan and the golem. A little half smile crossed Athan's face and he simply stopped his advance short of Tygris' hiding place.

Teamwork? Maybe, but Athan wasn't going to be shouting any commands. These fighters had made it this far into Heaven or Hell. There wasn't any point in doubting them.

Changing sword hands so that his right took the more dominant overhand position and his left stayed low, Athan widened his stance and awaited the golem's charge.

Rhos dispell had only been moderately effective, managing to snuff out of the chaotic flames that came from the large golem's body. Though the giant monster was imposing, they had found that it was by far not invincible. A point further driven home as a very large man with a sword and good taste in suits proved by crushing the golem's head with a powerful vertical slash.

Having grown accustomed to Gaia and all of it's wonders, a huge guy with an oversized weapon didn't seem to be all that out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, having its head completely destroyed didn't slow the chaotic beast in the slightest - in fact it seemed to have just gotten angrier.

Typical of giant magical abominations, really.

Canaan had a plan though, it was the reason he was currently standing behind a large pillar and gathering his energy. Griff and the rest of Jorg didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, having either passed out from their injuries or runaway. This meant that there wouldn't be any casualties from what the dragon-warrior had in mind.

Quote: Teamwork? Maybe, but Athan wasn't going to be shouting any commands. These fighters had made it this far into Heaven or Hell. There wasn't any point in doubting them.

Canaan glanced in the direction of the large man, nodding his head in response. Clearly both these warriors were thinking along the exact same lines. Or maybe that was simply Athan's way of saying he was gonna handle this whole situation and Canaan misinterpreted it. It wouldn't stop Canaan from following through with what he'd been planning to do.

Sliding his right foot back and cocking his right arm back, Canaan lunged forwards, deliver a powerful straight into the dull browned stone. His gauntlet covered fist exploded with energy on contact, sending chunks of rock and dust flying around. He followed through with another solid punch with his left fist, and continued the chain of punches from there until he'd busted out a good portion of stone. With one right shoulder ram, pushing all his weight and energy into the damaged pillar, Canaan finally sent it toppling forwards in the direction of the golem.

Suddenly a van came flying up through the air, having made it through the magical barrier surrounding the temple and up the rubble, aimed to crash directly into the golem. Normally Canaan would have frowned at having some kind of interruption of his plan happening, (help when not wanted is typically no help at all) but this fight was bigger than his team (but maybe not his pride). Either the golem would be crushed beneath a giant stone column, or blown to hell by a flying van. Fate had option A or B.

So much had raged on around Yasuo and this golems form. Everybody was throwing something at it, whether it be this swordsman and his giant blade of fury, or Canaan and Rhos using their combined efforts to take the damn things head off. All the while Yasuo had been clinging to the protruding weapons sticking out of the things legs, having been able to move from the front of the right shin of the stone warrior to the rear of it - burning his hands some along the way even through the wraps of his bracers. There was a crumbling sound above the shinobi's head, where his first thought was,

"Good shot boys."

Rock rained down from above and pelted Yasuo across the back and arms, leaving behind scratches and bruises as they seemed to pass. This pain was nothing compared to what he had just endured, but still he had to endure it as it came his way. At least there was a quick break from the flames...

The golem bent over to pick up a helmet, a perfect time for the shinobi to move up and onwards in his ascent for the ungodly creature that he dare climb upon. From behind the shin, Yasuo would climb and ascend to the higher levels of the body - mainly the lower torso. It was here that the things arm moved in a violent manner and the body once again ignited into a flaming mess, and caused the Iwa-nin to look out. "Was that an-... an energy lance?" Such a though raised questions as to what this things origin was, but the violent movements snapped Yasuo back into his situation and caused him to focus once more on getting to this things potential weak point. "This all has "Shade" written on it." His thoughts flashed back to the conversations between Anson and Tenkai. There had to be something about them behind all of this. Now it was a bit of an endurance test at the end of a protruding spear, with heat and violence included.

From the lower torso to the right side of the creatures body, Yasuo found that travel would get a little more complicated. There were fewer implements as he attempted to ascend, and more smooth stone and fire in its place. "Damn, this thing really is making things complicated." He commented before grasping to the wrapped hilt of the final blade at the center of the things side - this gave him a break from anymore burning hands. It was emplaced well enough for the shinobi to keep his balance with but a single hand - though that would change when the sound of a horn blared through the airwaves.

Quote: BEEP BEEP

KAPPOOOOW!

Inspector Chen had other plans in regards to this thing. Man did that suck. Combined with his own teammates pillar blow, Yas' really only had one other option - To hang on.

"DAMN!" Yasuo yelled, gripping onto the blade as the crash rocked the stone body. A choking smoke filled the air around the golem, causing the ninja to cough even through his face mask. The sword popped loose because of the prior crash as well, causing the shinobi to turn to his own weapons for help. From out of the vest quickly came the sharpened kunai, and from there back into the creatures stone form. It had just been able to grip into the stone (and say hello to the fire again), but had left Yasuo in a precarious position. Why was this? Well...

Mr. Golem Smallhead Wrote:

In a rage, the golem roared (as best as it could with a tiny helmet for a head) and charged in towards the Inspector, chaotic fire burning even more powerfully than it had a few minutes before...

...it seemed this thing had truly become pissed off. The bouncing of the stone warrior rocked through Yasuo's hand and arm, but also helped with a buildup of momentum. In the middle of the things run, Yasuo felt that it was time to unleash his own pain filled attack against this thing and potentially end it all for the rest of the team. Its side was weak, the energies undoubtedly waning with the damage that had been unleashed. It was his only shot.

"YEAAAAAGH!!!!"

A fist aided by the use of his chakra enhanced strength flew up and into the things side. The opposite fist followed soon after, burrowing into the flaming stone mans side and giving Yasuo a positive grip, in exchange for some really ******** up pain. He was lucky his bracers were tanned and heat resistance, because they would prove very useful in the protection of his forearms at least.

Clenching his teeth and enduring the heat for only a little longer, Yasuo brought his armored feet up and pressed them against the things side. With a pain-shrieking wail, the shinobi would deliver what he believed to be the final blow to this creature,

"DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

He used his arms as an emplacement, kicked back and rocketed his feet forward into the damaged torso of this foul beast, his enhanced strength aiding in the attempted demolition process. The fires ravaged his skin, his nerves and his mind, with tears streaming down on his face and evaporating immediately from the heat. He did not care, however - he just wanted to keep his team from being further damaged by this monstrosity. They'd been through enough, and himself just the opposite. Really, it was repaying a debt to them, but they wouldn't know that - not yet, anyway...

Chakra

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((Considering the final round can begin any moment, going to say that post orders are lenient, yes?))

Chen stood to his feet, his body feeling quite groggy from leaping out of a moving vehicle. His hands came from under his body to reveal that he had coiled up cables that he grabbed from out of the van itself, which was part of the camera equipment that was long gone out of here.

The filming crew were in safer places as they watched the scene, broadcasting it to everyone else in the world. But when they saw their own van get driven into the abomination, their mouths could not be open any wider.

"Ah, damn," said the inspector as he saw the large giant running toward him. It looked a mess after all the damage it took, but it was still trucking along, and unfortunately right toward the culprit of that explosive attack.

There was no time to lose. Chen's eyes darted quickly around where he was, trying to gauge the environment. He looked from debris that rose toward a higher ledge, following with a pillar and even higher ground. He could climb that, but it was going to be too slow as that monster was pounding toward him. So uncoiling what was at least one hundred feet of camera cables, he twirled it in his right hand, eyeing the pillar that still stood. His eyes kept darting back and forth between his destination and the swordgolem. Letting his breath blow from his mouth, he let out a KIAI, letting the cable go flying which had a weighted end on it to assist in guiding it. The cable coiled once, twice, around the standing pillar, Chen waiting for it to continue to spin around before it gave him enough resistance to act as a makeshift rope.

"Come on," he said. Thankfully, someone came out of the woodwork and gave the golem a good strike into the side. It probably wasn't going to stop it, but it was a great distraction for the time he needed.

Having both hands grasp the leftover cable, Chen ran toward the adjoining wall. His feet moved him up this hill of debris, his mouth opened as he let out a continued shout of anxiety.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhh!"

With a large leap, Chen let his feet touch the wall, suddenly running upon it in the good ole wall run that you saw in those action flick movies. Unlike those wall runs, however, Chen was performing this one a lot longer than usual, which was all thanks to the rope attachment that was acting as his pivot force. With a bend of his knees, Chen leapt himself off the wall and suddenly went cruising through the air like Tarzan as he held onto the cables, swinging in an arc around his pivot. Gaining speed, he stared down on the golem, as coming right around was the inspector with his legs kicking out, aiming a good dropkick for the thing's head.

He didn't understand why he had this sudden surge of energy, but he felt like he could do a lot more than normal. He was thinking it was probably adrenaline.

As all the blows struck simultaneously, a pulse of energy was let off from the book, the aura around the golem weakening considerably as a wolf was seen being sent back towards the opposite side of the temple.

The sheer magnitude of the combined attacks caused the beast to shatter.

Pieces of rock fell away from the main body, weapons cracked and broke from the force, and the helment of a head was crushed like a tin can and cast to the side.

With a final burst of energy powerful enough to send all of the fighters in various directions, the golem burst, a final attempt to protect the book.

But, it was in vain. The golem had been defeated, leaving only the second, larger golem facing off against Team Glacier as the only guardian left to protect the mighty Divine Grimoire.

[[Story Mode End - Cutscene Pending]]

Ryugi Kazamaru Wrote:

The fight was over, the golems had been defeated. The path was finally clear for the book to be grasped by the fighters below. However, such things were simply not meant to be. As the fighters gathered themselves, and picked themselves out of the rubble, the "whud whud" of heavy helicopter blades were heard over the news choppers and the like. As they watched, a large helicopter, the symbol and name of the Noah Foundation printed across the sides, moved in above the book.

In an instant, a rope was dropped, and two men repelled down out of the chopper to reach the book below, taking it up in their hands, and stowing it safely on their persons. As the fighters watched, a voice message would play from the helicopter, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the blades. It was clearly Noah's voice, but closer inspection would reveal that he was not on the chopper. It was pre-recorded.

"Talented fighters one and all, your skills in battle are unmatched, and your efforts are to be commended. Our partner group, the Order of Illumination, has made a request that we retrieve this artifact for them, and present it to them at the final announcement of this year's tournament winner. Other helicopters will be on the way shortly to take you all back to Latent where you will be able to rest up and relax before the final bouts. I look forward to seeing what you all can do. Good luck, fighters."

And with that, the two men were winched back up into the chopper, and the large craft turned and moved away from the temple, even as two more choppers flew in to take the remaining team members back to Latent.

There was only one expression Chen could give for this situation.

And then he ran away because he wasn't suppose to be here in the first place.