The Path

The Path

“There’s a ground! There’s a ground, Monty!”

All who venture here must keep their thoughts as pure as a glass of water. Okay, not really, but they’d better watch their step! Tall poles protruding from the total darkness below serve as the floor of this sacred arena. The pole at the center provides a relatively stable fight surface, but only measures 6’ in diameter and is raised at least 2’ above its surroundings. The surrounding platforms range anywhere from 6” to 24” in diameter and vary between one another in both spacing and height. While there is no pattern to the height and width variance, spacing does follow an actual trend. The poles closest to the center are situated pretty close together (average 1’gap) and gradually spread out towards the arena’s edge (average 3’gap). Aside from the two torch-lit rope bridges approaching the arena from opposing sides, absolute blackness defines the fight boundaries (50’ in diameter). There doesn’t appear to be any walls, floor, or ceiling.

Terrain

General – Lighting is provided by torches alit with magical flames (can’t be extinguished easily or manipulated with magic) that run along the sides of the rope bridge. The center pole is pretty stable, but the smaller poles can get wobbly when put under significant stress. However, they will not topple and cannot be destroyed by practical means.

Weapons – What you bring.

Natural Element Resource – None.

Bonus Effects - Ring out in effect! Yes, there IS a floor and if allowed to fall you’d reach it… eventually. But, seeing how the judges are such nice guys, they will transport you to safety after letting you fall for 10 seconds. Holy individuals will feel their resistances against dark magic bolstered (50% increased resistance). Dark individuals will feel their resistances against Holy magic weakened (50% decreased resistance).

Sabrina was in the team suite, just outside the bedroom she shared with Fayble as she waited for the older woman to finish getting ready. She was leaning against a table in the corner when, suddenly, her FIGHTER chimed. She brought it up to study the display, and watched the opening fight announcement scroll through. Following that, it brought up the stats for her team's fight, including the location.

"The Path . . . to where?" she muttered to herself, tapping at the tiny controls on the device to see if she could find out more, some directions most of all, but there was nothing.

That was when she caught movement in her peripheral vision. Light glinted off of something black and shiny. Like an insect's shell. Or armor.

Alarmed, she looked up . . . and found herself standing on a torchlit bridge, leaning against the rope rails. Surprised, she reeled, and nearly toppled over the side, but managed to regain her balance by grabbing on to the rope so hard her knuckles went white.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she looked around, and saw Fayble a few feet away, tying her boots up as if this were nothing unusual.

"So . . . this is The Path, I guess?"

Let\'s Party.

A hard rock guitar riff shattered the tranquil calm of the celestial arena.

Back in black

I hit the sack

I've been too long I'm glad to be back

Admittedly the perpetrator of this minor act of desecration was wearing red and not black, but anyone who wanted to argue was at risk of getting their skull bashed in with a ghetto blaster.

Yes I'm, let loose

From the noose

That's kept me hanging about

The wielder of said device walked over to the Jormungandr bench area and dropped the thing rather unceremoniously at his feet, which he then proceeded to rest his foot on.

I keep looking at the sky

'Cause it's gettin' me high

Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die

His blond hair shone in the heavenly light of the arena, contrasted by the pitch black sunglasses that he wore.

I got nine lives

Cats eyes

Abusing every one of them and running wild

The bored expression upon his face soon broke into a wide, cocky grin.

'Cause I'm back

Yes, I'm back

Well, I'm back

Yes, I'm back

Well, I'm back, back

(Well) I'm back in black

Yes, I'm back in black

For Stephen Lasanti, Heaven or Hell 2010 had just officially begun.

"Hello." The monk called out as he started across the bridge on his side. He stopped in the middle and looked about. "The others should be along shortly, hopefully. Till then, I will converse with you if you wish." Eric bowed lightly. "Though this doesn't look too safe."

The girls could could laugh all they wanted - this was the moment he'd been waiting for all year and nothing she said could ruin the rush that he was going through. Heaven or Hell was the closest thing to his Disneyland, his Super Bowl, his Comic-Con. There had been many tournaments and fights in his day but this was the granddaddy of them all. The rings were different and the rules had been tweaked, but in the end it was all the same.

And he was pretty much addicted to it.

As the man across the way shouted a hello, the man's grin closed into an equally pleased smirk as he looked over the tops of his sunglasses. "Well well well. If it isn't the opposing team throwing a greeting our way. That's unusually cordial of him. D'you think he's new and doesn't realize that we're all about to layeth the smack down on each other? Or perhaps he's just one of those rare individuals who cares about formalities?"

The blond thought about it for a moment before releasing a short laugh. "No matter. We shall see soon enough. 'Til then."

At this point he stopped speaking in a normal tone and called back over the chasm to the man who had addressed them. "Hello there! Lovely day isn't it? Looking forward to a good match and all that. Do watch your step though." The smirk returned to the grin from earlier. "I hear it's quite a long drop to the bottom."

Sabrina couldn't help leaning over the side to watch as the stereo plunged into the blackness. And kept going.

Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back

Well, I'm back, Yes I'm back

Well, I'm back, back

Well I'm back in black

Yes I'm back in black

She frowned a little. She happened to like that song. Then, with a sigh, the youngest member of Jörmungandr turned back to her fellows, paying the guy on the other side of . . . this place no more attention than a single glance.

"So, any idea where our esteemed Captain is?"

Stephen paused for a moment and suddenly realized that his boom box (which wasn't actually his) was now careening into the abyss and that his intro music was now gone and that he was standing with his leg up in the air like a Captain Morgan impersonator. His grin faded into something of an annoyed and dejected look.

"Hmph. Killjoy."

He sighed and plopped down on the ground near where he stood, sitting the signature headphones upon his neck into the optimal listening position (i.e, on his ears) and cranked the very same song on them. He was now extremely bored and awaiting the fighting to get started.

He rubbed his face lightly. "You could try to be a little more courteous to our opponents. Not everyone is like Senior Smog and makes me want to punch them."

"Lighten up pal, you don't need to worry 'bout these chumps. We'll be back in the suite in a few minutes so you can start meditating in the corner or whatever you like to do again."

She turned away from Eric and looked back towards the opposing crew. While she thought the bunch of them were pretty low in status, there was one that was an easy target. Her major flaw was easily detectable from any distance. Rachel had already started to try and exploit whatever sensitivity the young woman had about her problem, and she would keep going. She took a few steps forward to the edge of the bridge and she called out after noticing that she appeared to be resting,

"What's wrong lardass, standing too much like work for you? Who lied and told you they were selling cakes here?!"

Rachel turned her back to them and faced Eric,

"What kind of joke do they think this is?!"

"Hey." Fayble spoke up after all at the opposing gal, her calm yellow eyes opening to look at her.. "Will you stop trying to call attention to yourself?"

Fayble didn't sound angry in the least, it was just obvious. Fayble came here to enjoy herself, fight for fun, support her team. Not to be yelled at like she was on Jerry Springer, or her cohorts for that matter.

"Seriously, Please do us a favor. Knock it off."

Not a name was called, it was a low key put down. Hopefully, miss Rachel would comply and save a little of her dignity.

"Jeez, kids. You'd think I killed the school teacher, ya'll lookin' around bewildered without me." a smooth voice stated from the far end of the bridge. That voice sounded familiar, even for those of the team who'd only met him once. And hell, if the other team heard him, they'd probably recognize it."

Quote: "I am Griff Morivan, the Great Fist of Aekea Major." Black boots clicked with a thick, woody percussion with each step, the echo ringing out into the ambient air. Matter of fact, Griff might have picked optimal clothing, considering the lack of light in the area. Sure, he was visible, but black on black with black accessories? Jeez. If he didn't look respectable and well put together, you'd think he were an emo kid.

Quote: "Even with one arm, and a knife in my belly, I am the Strongest Man Gaia has EVER seen!" Green eyes burned through the air, almost the first thing anyone from either side saw of him, his team mates being able to catch them from the blackness of his background. Followed close was the burning cigar on the edge of his lips, a long drag taking a good portion of the remaining stogie to a tip. His hands worked on his jacket as he rolled his neck slowly.

Quote: "Don't be confused. And don't DARE be confident. I promise, I will be back for this crown." He had killed himself in the Hawk's entry the year before. He was dead. Here he was, back from the damned grave. It was uncanny, but that was what it was. As he removed his jacket, he drew a pair of fine shades from his breast pocket, turning now to Fayble, Sabrina and Suits.

"Ladies? Suits?" He grinned, grabbing that cigar and flicking it into the depths of hell. "Let's Rock."

Griff smirked, that cocky appearance turning stoic as he turned to the center of the field, his hands grabbing onto the ropes, half leaning to, half leaned past. "...This oughta be interesting." He muttered, getting back to his feet on flat footing. "Well, we'll begin, then. Because I'm tired of waiting, and I just got here."

His left thumb absently rubbed the tungsten ring that clung to his hand, considering the mission ahead of him. It'd been a while since he fought. But he didn't mind. He was the best before. He is the best today. The God King. The Soldier of Fortune.

"Team Eikoku Jun'ai Gumi T-Rex Kata Punch." Griff began, his voice carrying across the pit and poles. For half a second, Sabrina and his other team mates would easily see 'wh'the ********!?' across his face. What an odd team name. "I, Griff Morivan, Captain of Team Jörmungandr, challenge Rachel Arai to come to the center stage. As team captains, it is our duty to lead our teams into victory. I hope you agree..."

Leap. Thunk. The pole wobbled and bounced briefly as he stood carefully on his left. Another leap, his right foot, more wobbling, again and again until he was just off center, to the more stable poles. Where he could respectably face his opponent. His left hand rested passively now on the handle of his scimitar. The Sword of Team Jörmungandr and the Yggdrasil, the Midgard Fang. A short swagger, a smiling salute.

"Let. Us. Begin."

He sighed as he was interrupted and took the bat when it was offered. Hmm, a non-weapon fight, that'd be interesting. Eric half wondered why she would suggest that, though he had yet to really see her fight unarmed.

Still, he called out after her. "It's simple, you loose, you go out on a date with me. What are you wagering for your win?" He grinned, curious. Still, if Smokey and Terir didn't show up, they'd have a hell of a time on their hands.

It was too bad for Eric that she was so absorbed into being challenged by this man that she did not even notice the conditions of his wager. In all honesty, it did not matter. It did not matter because she was going to win this contest, she was determined to show the world that she was worth its attention. So whatever he wanted she would not have to pay up in the end anyway. This was a bet that she would not lose. She focused on the man and she watched and listened to what was happening. It was nothing to be afraid of, it really wasn't enough to startle her. He really was like the comic book icons, a badass. When she would prove victorious against a badass like him, she would de facto fall into those ranks.

"I'm startin' to think you're more of a woman than me with all that talkin'"

She spoke in a sarcastic tone as she prepared herself for the fight. Her hands came from her pockets and pulled at the ends of her long coat, throwing it back towards Eric at the bridge. She stepped forward to meet her opponent at the stable pole. She stood straight and took in a deep breath, stretching her neck. She wore no shirt, her shoulders bare and tape wrapped from her bust and down into the slacks high on her waist. She brought a fist into a palm in front of her chest before taking a stance. Across her opponent of the opposite end of the center pole she stood with with the right foot back and dukes raised to guard. She had already developed her rhythm on the balls of her feet, she was ready to go.

"Come show the big boss you're worth a damn."

1

Stephen glanced towards Griff as he entered and waltzed his way into the ring and immediately challenged the captain of Team Eikoku Jun'ai Kata Veloceraptor Godzilla Twinkie Vanilla Ice Ice Baby Whatever-The-Hell-It-Was-Called to battle. The blond blinked as he took a moment to grasp what just happened and immediately got to his feet as the classiest ******** he'd ever witnessed initiate a fight got his groove on.

"Huh... interesting."

Stephen had honestly not been fully introduced to his Captain - an odd statement seeing how far in the game they were now - but he could already tell that he was gonna like him. Whereas Fayble had her tomboyish charm and Sabrina had a sort of misleading innocence about her, Griff came across in his mind as all business. A heaping helping of soldier's discipline with just a dash of James Bond swirled into the mix.

Quietly humming the opening lines of "Snake Eater" to himself, Stephen began to watch the fight intently. His boredom assuaged, he turned down the headphones and slipped them around his neck so as to take in the fullness of the fight itself.

Just because this was his third year in didn't mean he still couldn't learn a thing or two.

And finally, there was a wolf!

A dark gray beast quietly stalked down the bridge on Eikoku's side. His large paws padding along the wood would probably not be heard over the din of the fight that had just begun, but even in the dim lighting the immense silhouette of his body was practically impossible not to notice. Well, then again the other team seemed to have a penchant for nonchalance, so his presence would probably be met with a shrug and the thought, "Oh, a 400 pound wolf-beast? Whatever, who cares." The beast's yellow eyes gleamed with malice in the torch light as it came to stop on the other side of the monk. At that point the furry figure rose to its modest full height of a mere seven feet or so.

So there stood Terir, the Warg. In layman's terms he could be erroneously called a werewolf, though he looked more wolf than man. His erect posture indicated bipedal locomotion, i.e. he could walk around on his hind legs like the average bloke. Oh, he could also talk, too! Fun. In fact, he then said--no, snarled--he then snarled the following:

"Quit sucking on that smoke and fire and put it out." This he directed at his teammate Akasuke. He did not know all about Akasuke's condition, but even if he did he sure as hell wouldn't care why Captain Pollution needed his cigarette. The smoke was playing havoc with his keen sense of smell, irritating his long, slender snout. His gruff voice came out in a low, guttural tone that some people would find difficult to understand. He sounded like the typical dark, brooding anti-hero with a smoker's voice, if that typical dark, brooding anti-hero was chewing on sand paper.

Though he spoke to Akasuke, his savage eyes were already locked on his assortment of prey. He did not know who he was to fight, though his narrator knew well enough. He had probably been told at some point, but he did not care to remember something like that. It was all needless formalities to him anyway. He came to fight. Plain and simple. He would now have to impatiently wait on the sidelines until someone pointed him to a piece of living, breathing meat on the other side of the arena and said, "Go get 'em, boy!"

So until that moment he did the only thing he could to tide himself over. He glared and glared and glared at the other three on Team Jormungandr, wordless and unflinching.

There was no getting out of that. Her had would make contact with his chest one way or another. He had a second to react, and react he shall. His legs began to unfurl as he came in contact with the platform, his right coming down as it had intended, shoving through the air as his fingers opened to grasp.

Her fist made it right under his arm, and as her knuckles dug into his chest, expelling air and making that most unfortunate packing noise punches always seem to make, Griff would be taking hold. It'd be hard to avoid, but it would be feasible. He took that blow to the chest just as his fingers made a grab at just below her elbow.

His feet planted firmly, his eyes expanding. His mouth tightened, the way one does when that first spark of aggression lights up. His eyes seemed to roll as time kept creeping for the fighters, and in this tight second, Griff would do a pretty basic, pretty ugly move.

His right arm attempted to pull her arm toward it while his left shot out in what could only be called a Capital Bitchslap. His elbow, forearm, wrist and back of his left hand were all poised to smack the woman point blank.

[3/17]

[Griff lands, taking the hit to the chest. His right punch modifies as he is landing and he attempts to grab her elbow as her punch lands, promptly pulling her in close while his left acts as a full arm blow, aimed for her jaw.]

A loud slapping sound rang through out the stage as his arm connected with her face. Her head whipped to the left, her eyes rolled and followed in the same direction. Her left foot stepped back as she caught herself, feeling her right arm being yanked still. The side of her face burned, it was red from the strike, and a small mixture of blood and saliva was spat on the ground. It was a hard hit, but she had taken stronger before. She was expecting something like this from an opponent who ranked pretty high on the badass scale. This must be what it felt like to take a punch from Onizuka.

She wasn't stunned by the blow, just as it seemed her opponent wasn't winded by her punch to his body. Understandable, she didn't land clear on her mark. But this was interesting, it seemed that they were going to be trading blows until the one of them could not summon the energy to stand. That was just fine with Rachel, she could hang with it. She was tough. He was tough. But she was tougher.

Her left fist tightened and her body snapped back around to the right. She swung her arm as his left followed through with the motion of the bitchslap. Her fist hooked in aiming to pound into the right side of exposed trunk. She stepped forward with the attack and planted her foot firmly on the surface, pulling herself to her left and keeping her head close to the side of his body below his right arm that extended out to pull her in front of him. She was hoping to use the positioning as a shield against having her jaw rocked again, or at least not get hit as hard as she did before. There was little more she could do in terms of creating any kind of defense.

And she wasn't going to stop there. She was going to keep attacking his body as long as he would let her. Until he would decide to free his grasp or forcefully prevent her from delivering blows, she was going to keep on socking him in the same spot.

3

She heard him grunt over the impact of her fist with his body. It was satisfying and she was ready to keep at it, because surely that would be the best route to her escape. But that idea was out of the window when he managed another hit to her face. His fist shook her head again, but it was noticeably weaker than the initial slap he gave her. At least that's how it felt to her.Her eyes would follow his hand recover from the punch for a short moment before she would move to try and prevent that from happening again.

She stretched and pulled her body closer, setting her face against the upper portion of the right side of his torso. Her mouth opened and she moved in more, closing down hard to try and catch a chunk of his flesh between her teeth. At this point she was starting to feel something. That feeling was not a good one at all. The grip around her arm was suddenly tightening, and it was painful. So painful that if she had managed to bite down into him she would clamp down and pull even harder.

In a desperate attempt to try and escape by forcing him to pry loose, her left hand resumed the socking. Because she moved in closer to bit him, she wouldn't be able to hit him the same way in the same place as before. Instead her fist was aiming to pound closer to the back, those still along the right side of his body. Her eyes were open wide, she felt the pain through out her whole body, and the tears ran down her cheek. But all the while, she was getting very frustrated at being locked in this situation. At some point he was going to let her go and when that was to happen he was going to get the s**t kicked out of him.

4

Griff let out quite the groan, his head snapping down to look at the top of the woman's head. Granted, not his preferred method of doing so, he'd snap into action.

His mechanical hand, the terror that it was becoming, continued to strangle and crush the poor woman's arm, the the pressure was probably building to the point that blood vessels would be popping, the bone would be beginning to splinter and fracture.

His fleshy hand? Sweetly brushing over the back of her neck with a smack, his arm wrapping around her neck, pushing her down harder into his chest. Sure, it only dug her teeth into him a little bit further. But now she's getting all jammed in there. Doesn't help that he leaned in close to her, whispering. From a distance, it almost looked like embrace after an argument.

"Baby? You're ******** with the wrong man."

His machine hand pulled her in close, he twisted in and his right knee snapped upward, aimed and poised to just slam her lowest two ribs underneath the arm he was already crushing.

[5/17]

[Griff's right hand continues to crush, his left arm wraps around Rachel's neck as she bites him, and his right knee snaps up in a rib attack.]

This actually ranks as a close second to the most painful experience Rachel had to endure. Still holding the crown would be having her leg nearly cut clean off by the strange guy who ended up vomiting on her in the GTB.That wasn't enough to stop her then. But this was a really close second. The whole idea of losing an arm, at least temporarily sucks. But her opponent seemed to have gone through it, and he was not letting ti stop him. Instead, he was letting it show that he was still at the top of his game. Maybe this was an initiation right for all those who were destined to be somebodies in the world. Having a piece of metal replace damaged bone. After all of the pain, she could probably live with it.

At the present time, Rachel was sweating all over. Her whole body ached. Well, ache didn't quite describe the pain that she was in. The only thing that kept her fighting was the kindled flame deep within. The ambition she had to make a name for herself in the cruel world. Seeing as that consistently put her into harms way, it was something she should probably have checked out, but for now it was what was keeping her alive. And her fighting spirit allowed her to resist despite the situation.

She was not going to let him push her into any kind of face lock. With any amount of force he tried to apply to her, she fought back double. All the while her teeth still pulled at his flesh like she were some animal. And her strikes to his side would resume, their frequency increasing the more she felt the pressure of her arm being snapped by the inhuman grip. The fighting would continue until she felt his knee come up and knock the energy out of her.

Pulling away, it was possible that she might a decent chunk of flesh away from him. A very minor injury compared to the one he had inflicted onto her. The trade off probably would have been even if she had a mechanical arm that could apply a death grip and crush bone too, but what much could a crazy girl who was in all reality cosplaying expect? That didn't really cross her mind though, she was living this dream, she was determined to make it to the top.

Downed to a knee, she had to recoup herself in some way. Her breathing was heavy, sweat, tears, and blood dripped onto the surface while her arm remained in the grip of her opponent. The thought had crossed her mind, her escape could have been made easily. But taking that route was forbidden in tournament policy, and more importantly, going for the low blow would be a violation in the conduct according to manhood. If she were going to be a tough and be in the ranks of powerful men in the underworld, she couldn't stoop to desperate measures. She couldn't act so dishonorable.

This was a sign that she had at least matured from earlier times where her word did not matter so much as did winning. The real badasses didn't give respect to those who did comply to their code of ethics to get to the top.

5

The blows to his chest and sides were starting to get under his nerves, and as the girl pulled away from him, Griff would happily let go. Yeah, flesh tore from his chest in her teeth, and it hurt like a mother, but he tried to brush the pain aside quickly bopping to the opposite end of the center platform.

A short self diagnostic, just to make sure everything is on the up and up. His chest was a bit battered from her punches and smacks, and his chest was definitely not feeling Ha Bisky after she decided he was a sandwich. But otherwise, he was feeling good. "It's a shame." He began, that suave tone returning to his voice as his left hand reached to his right shoulder, slowly rounding his mechanical arm in his shoulder.

"But hey." His stance adjusted so that his left foot was extended forward just slightly, his left hand outstretched in what looked like a meditative pose. His right arm bent inward, stretched back as if prepared for a full blown attack. A second or two after being in that pose, the oddest of clicking sounds was emitted.

"We can't all be the Big Boss."

Special

<0/5>

[6/17]

[Griff releases Rachel's arm, takes a few steps back and adopts a punching stance, a clicking noise emits.]

Was he taunting her? She had enough time to catch her second wind, and although the pain was still tremendous it was quickly becoming an after thought. Her arm being useless was becoming increasingly frustrated to her. Her fingers scraped against the surface, and then she pounded a balled fist against it. Now it was on. She pushed up with her left hand to stand straight and moved back to a neutral distance. Her eyes narrowed in a glare as her opponent continued to speak to her. Her blood was boiling, she was ready to beat the snot out of this guy.

"It's fine pal, now it's fair since you brought me down to your level."

She grinned an evil grin and threw up the good left arm into the guard position. It felt odd not being able to really use her right arm, but she could manage either way. She took the foot position she had at the start, and she bounced in a lively rhythm.

"Let's take it from the top. Do that flashy jumping punch again so this time you can snap the other one."

6

• PIME TARADOX. WOOOOOSH. -

And then it was Sabrina's turn.

She felt a lump in her throat, butterflies in her stomach, and all the other pleasant feelings that come with feeling nervous. She watched as her opponent started leaping across poles, headed for the center platform, and popped the top button of her short-sleeved collared shirt so she could breath a little easier.

The moment of truth. Her Heaven or Hell debut. Would she prove herself as one of the tournament's many, elite competitors, or simply an amateur with little more than delusions of grandeur?

The 19-year-old touched the pair of tonfa at her hip, and she felt her nerves steeling up. This gave her to confidence to step to the edge of their creaky bridge, and make a hop to the nearest pole. Carefully, she started skipping her way towards the center, boots thumping heavily. And with each step she took, she felt her spirits lifting.

The key, she realized, was not to think of this as a fight where half the world would be watching and judging her every move. Forget the audience, the fame, the press, the Judges.

It was just another chance to make some punk choke on his own teeth.

She smiled, checked to make sure that Akasuke wasn't waiting to shove her off as soon as she landed, and made the final leap to the center platform's edge. And before her opponent could take stock of the situation, he would find her taking a single large step toward him as soon as her feet landed, drawing the tonfa on her right hip and holding her left hand up near her face for defense. On this 6-foot-wide platform, one stride forward with her left foot was all she needed to bring her in range to throw a single right jab, aiming to smash him in the jaw with the metal tip of her weapon -- or nose, or throat, or cheek, if he flinched.

No grandstanding for her. No stopping to talk shop and agree on any conditions first. Violence, pure and simple.

[1]

"You needed one too?"

She dropped her guard and relaxed once he pulled out his cigar. She went into her pocket and drew a slim plastic stick, and placed it to her lips and sucked at it. The tip of the electric cigarette burned with an orange glow as she took a long draw before bringing it back to her side between her fingers. Rachel blew the apple scented vapor from her mouth. Nicotine already made everything better. But don't get it wrong, she was still pissed, this just gave her time to imagine how she'd rip the bastards arm off and beat him in the head with it.

"Being reasonable men, how about a short smoke break? We both could use it don't you think?"

7

Well, Sabrina didn't appreciate being called names by someone who couldn't bother to come up with anything more creative than 'b***h'. She'd withdrawn her arm immediately after the strike, as was the nature of a jab, and pivoted her torso to the right, bringing that same arm straight out behind her, as if she was preparing to clothesline someone. Then she proceeded to bring it back around, reversing the rotation of her body. Her grip on the handle loosened, to allow her little instrument to swing freely, and when her arm passed a certain point, she collapsed it inward at the elbow. And finally, as the end result of this complex little process, the body of her weapon swiveled in her fist, whipping out to give Akasuke a love tap on the side of his face, all for the purpose of putting enough momentum behind a single swing to chip stone. All in a single fluid motion, and the span of the couple seconds it probably took for him to prepare and fire his spell.

So even as Sabrina was striking at him again, she felt something pound into her gut with all the force of a bowling ball being lobbed into her gut. She doubled over as the breath was expelled from her lungs, and brought her free hand across her stomach reflexively as the energy burned through the the fabric of her top, and met the linked metal barrier of the the mythril chainmail shirt hidden beneath.

Unless it could eat through steel as effectively as cotton, only a small percentage of the volatile energy would be able bleed through, giving her minor chemical burns scattered across her stomach, but no worse. Still, the sheer kinetic force behind it did its work, leaving her in a temporary position of vulnerability.

Of course, if her own offensive had connected, he probably wasn't in much better condition.

[2]

For a moment, Griff just stared at the woman as she moved about. So his attack missed, no big. And as she spoke, he found himself entranced. She had stamina. Most women probably couldn't take getting busted in the teeth twice and still talk. She got chutzpa. Despite all this, Morivan found himself lost in thought as she rounded on him.

His mind did indeed drift off, and as it did, he lost sight of where he seemed to be. The pits faded from black to glowing green, the pillar remained the same, but Griff was no longer standing opposite a beautiful belle, but was staring down a Cyberdemon. And as his brain slipped away for that brief moment, his lips would follow. Hell, they stayed gone longer than his brain did.

"Rip and tear... rip and tear your guts! You are HUGE! THAT MEANS YOU HAVE HUGE GUTS! OH! HERE IT COMES!" his eyes flew open in a fit of newly found rage. His body shifted, he dropped over a foot as he launched off his right foot, his right arm extending in a pretty harsh sideways arc. He was going for it.

"HERE COMES THE NIGHT TRAIN!"

<Special Used!>

[9/17]

[Griff listened to Rachel's request, denied, and is throwing a mean right hook aimed for her torso.]

So his opponent was a little hasty. Surprising really, most people on this damned planet like to play more defense and just stand there, waitin' for some s**t to pop off with their certain look and stature that screamed 'I think I know what I'm doing'. This one broke that common mold, and that was pretty neat in itself. Too bad she wasn't a Nyost or Celfoid.

Akasuke found his Tyo blast connecting, and that would buy him some time. Before he could plan anything or execute an action of any real importance in this match, he would have to find a way around the second strike that was coming for him. The pain from the previous blow hadn't even dissipated yet before the violent female continued her assault. Sadistic little girl.

Akasuke's right hand swung at the elbow, a circular motion culminating in the immortalized 'Wax-off' motion. It was the Nyost's intent to slam his forearm into tonfa and prevent it from striking the more vital areas. Like his face. Her strike would have a lot more power than Akasuke's defense, having swung her entire body into the motion (rather quickly too, only adding more energy). However, the defense would more than likely be enough to cope with the strike, despite causing him a great amount of pain.

Hissing from behind his teeth, the male's own torso twisted as his free arm pulled back. In what was almost the same motion, Akasuke was preparing a powerful straight punch while defending himself with his other appendage. His fist would short fly forward, heading towards the girl's solar plexus in an attempt to add another level of trauma to the area where his Tyo had scathed. Kinetic energy flew throughout his body, controlled via the turning motion of his core and flowing like a whip, exiting out his hand and into the centre of his opponent, if the strike connected.

[3] [Tyo Points: 80]

P-P-P-PIME TARADOXDOXDOX....

Looking down at the FIGHTER on her wrist, it blinked and showed the statistics of the next fight. It was her and the wolf, and it was about time. Reaching into her dusters pocket, Fayble produced two small ram shaped amulets, and as she pulled back the sleeve, she placed one on the back of her left hand, tapping it. Two red threads of energy sprouted out of either side of the trinket, looping themselves around to seamlessly meet at her palm. She did the same to the right hand, only this time, it was blue. Next to prepare, the femme took off her hat and tossed it to the ground before tying up her long locks into a low ponytail. Now that that was all done, Fayble walked to the edge of the bridge and turned to look behind her shoulder.

"Watch my back Fabio."

Taking a long step onto one of the poles, Fayble easily navigated her way to the six foot platform form. Soon she was fixing herself, checking over to see if she had everything. Belt? Check. Amulets? Check. Hammer and dagger? Done and done. Looking up to the opposite bridge, Fayble stomped her boots into the ground and sighed out heavily.

Quote: Grounding:

But stamping her feet to the ground before a fight, Fayble directs her energy into the ground, then back up into her body. Enabling her to use electrical moves without being shocked back, or being shocked by other electrical attacks.

Sabrina still hadn't really recovered from the ki blast (she was only human, after all), so she didn't see his follow-up coming in time to counter it. It struck home.

Thup

However, solar plexus strikes, while normally devastating, weren't very effective when the intended target was holding their arm across their belly in the aftermath of a 600 lb greeting, blocking part of that area. Or when they were bent forward, putting their torso at an angle and deflecting some of force behind such and attack as a result. And that chainmail she was wearing would only diffuse its effectiveness further.

Sadly, while the immediate effects of such a blow were minimal, it didn't change the fact that there was force behind it, directed at a point near her center of gravity. It was only logical, therefore, that she was shoved with enough force to send her body tipping backwards.

Over the edge she would go, where she would topple endlessly into the darkness below, dragging her team's hopes only hopes at victory with her, in what would have to be one of the most disappointing defeats in tournament history. How pathetic, this child with delusions of grandeur. 'She had no business joining up in the first place' was all people would say of her. 'What did anyone expect?' they would all ask one another. For years to come. She would be recorded in the annals of the Heaven or Hell's glorious history as little more than a footnote, a sad, misguided little girl who simply couldn't hack it in the big leagues. This vision of her future flashed through her head in a single instant.

Well

THAT!!!"

The cry ripped itself out of her throat like a caged animal as she started to reel back. With a mind all its own, her right arm released the grip of her beloved tonfa as if it had suddenly grown red-hot, letting it drop straight to the platform, and lashed out like a cobra on crack to seize his extended left forearm before it could be withdrawn. Akasuke would find the same limb that he'd used to strike her enclosed in a grip of seemingly titanic strength fueled by desperation, fear, and anger. Mostly anger, unfortunately for him.

No, really, she was pissed.

The scene would play out like a slightly retarded version of tug-o-war. Unless he wanted to be yanked into the abyss right along with her, the non-human would have to tug back in the opposite direction with as much strength as he could muster, bringing this furious 19-year-old right back up to (relative) safety. And if he was thinking of using his right hand to try to force her detach . . . well, he'd have a fairly difficult time managing it, having blocked her previous attack with that hand. A blow from a metal rod like that would leave the area partially numbed and stinging, and he would be able to consider himself fortunate if nothing had been fractured. So it wouldn't be entirely operational for the time being.

And now, badly drawn reference material!

[3]

Well, that sucked. Rachel was just but at quite the disadvantage, mainly because the limited space she had to maneuver around. Whatever was about to come because of that was going to be another reason tacked onto the list of reasons why this stage sucks. Anyway, the steam should make it difficult for both of them to see each other, unless her opponent had some kind of eye implant similar to his arm as well. The reason she was at a disadvantage though compared to her opponent was simple, she was on the run. If she couldn't discern where he was coming from or what he might to do, she wouldn't know when to run or even a relatively safe route. And because of the limited space, he only had to guess, and guessing wouldn't be hard, of where she was to try and prevent her form moving anymore.

By now Rachel was able to fix her posture and become fully alert, like it would do any good. She noticed that so far her opponent has focused primarily on trying to attack her body, and since that was a bigger target than her head and his vision was probably blocked by the steam as well, it was reasonable to assume that was what he was going to aim for again. But it'd be best to just try and keep avoiding him. She prepared herself to take a hit and kept her guard up while her eyes tried to make out some kind of outline through the passing steam.

When she saw it coming it was too late to react. His fist split through the cloud of stream and impacted with her left side. That was a pretty good guess, he got what he wanted. Rachel's eyes squinted for a moment, that blow felt more like getting hit with a sack of rocks than a punch, but that was what was to be expected from an arm made of steel. Rachel would endure, she took pride in her toughness. She could only imagine if she had tried to tank whatever attack he was doing just seconds earlier. But getting hit triggered something of a reflex from Rachel.

It wasn't so much a reflex from being struck, more like her only means of slowing down her opponent with out dangerously engaging him. In her time of desperation, she did not think about rules or the consequences of breaking the rules, she didn't care too much for rules anyway. The cloud of steam thinning and his body becoming at least partially visible, and the position of his fist and arm allowed her to estimate roughly where he was. Her right leg swung up, assuming his legs were apart as he had done before with his stance, the arc should end with somewhere from her shin to her boots in his groin. It was still a long shot, but there might had been advantage to taking this route since he might not have seen it coming.

11

( ...Thoroughly confused, Nemesis. Not on what you did, by why you did it. Well, here'goes... )

The woman had taken a blow that sent her tipping backwards. There was a short time where satisfaction had come to Akasuke, like a shining ray of hope from the skies above. Unfortunately, the demons of reality weren't too keen about that, and the Nyost found himself leaning over as well; about to be cast into the groping darkness below. A quick glance revealed the reason behind it all.

His opponent had grabbed onto his arm, hoping to either keep herself from falling or to bring Captain Pollution with her. Either way, it was a bad scenario for our lovable environment-killer. For a split second, the idea of smashing her wrist or elbow to force weakness into her grip, but the reasons for not doing so were readily apparent. Not only was his bone and flesh still in fair agony from blocking the metal rod from before, but disconnecting her before regaining and stabilizing his own balance first could make it drastically easy for her to find another way to bring him down... Something else had to be done

He had an idea, an improvisation on one of the core concepts of his fighting style, developed by his religious leaders back home. It was crazy, and it probably wouldn't work, but it could potentially end the fight in his favor.... or it could end it in her's. The movement would be planned carefully, and executed with the quickest and most efficient coordination Akasuke could muster.

''Sorry.. I'm just not that into you.'' The words in unison with a shift in balance, taking place as Akasuke twisted his wrist to grasp onto the girl's wrist and forearm with as much power as possible. It wasn't a super-tight grip, but that wasn't what he was aiming for. No, the combination of strength from the girl holding onto him, and vice versa should be enough. Akasuke made a quick pull, simultaneously crouching down and extending his right leg.

The technique was very fluid and very quick. Akasuke dropping down almost to the floor, pulling on his opponent's arm. His extended leg offered a bit of extra balance for himself, with his core being so conveniently close to the ground and his foot keeping him from sliding forward too much. The pull was likely to bring her upper body forward, while the angle of her body kept her core more 'out' and towards the edge of the arena; even if only for a second.

He was trying to disrupt what balance she had by forcing her body to move rapidly, and hopefully catch her off guard through that method. However, this was not all he attempted to do. As soon as he had hit the ground, extended his appendage, and pulled towards himself, he made a hook/sweep with his right leg. Quick, but aimed at the center of the girl's knee. Coming from the side he tried to slam through the knee, not just hit it and stop there. His plan was inflict a great pain and stress on the side of the joint, and force her to either crash into the side of the arena (and hopefully fall), followed by a prompt releasing of his grip.

Of course... this all could work against him, depending on how quick she was, and what she did to reverse the maneuver.

[4] [Tyo: 85]

This might have worked fairly well, if Sabrina had been content to let herself be pulled up so she could perform some sort of standing offensive. However, she'd established a basic pattern for herself, keeping in line with one of the basic tenets of Krav Maga, the style in which she'd been taught.

Turn your attacker into a defender. Be aggressive.

As Akasuke was leaning low and pulling her up, so too was she pulling on his arm with all the strength she could muster, and as soon as she even had a semblance of balance, she was executing the next move she'd planned out. He slid forward, and she pulled forward, falling towards him to follow him to the ground. His leg would hook at empty space. She brought her right leg up as she came down, so that her knee would drive straight into his stomach. Simultaneously, Sabrina took her free left hand, and slammed it forward to grasp his right shoulder and pin it against the ground, making certain that he wouldn't be going anywhere as long as she had anything to say about it.

And finally, with all the ferocity of a righteously infuriated woman, she would rip her right arm free of his grip so she she could start punching him in the nose and jabbing him in the throat with her fingertips, repeatedly.

Oh, yeah, and she was cussing the whole time.

"Son of a b*h **** cocksucking dickwad ct asswipe b***d shitlicking turd p*y f*****t!!!" etc.

[Edit to insert post number]

[4]

She had made the connection, and her leg kept going until it couldn't anymore. Her eyes were set to his face, she was expecting an expression of agony, maybe even a tear to roll down the cheek before he would tumble over and roll in pain. But she didn't get that at all. No, it was clear to see by the new folds and lines forming in his face that he was not the least bit happy. But for a very short period he appeared to have been stunned from the blow. She wasn't sure if it were because he was obviously furious or if it was the pain of being kicked in the jewels, either way it didn't really matter. It just meant that from this point on she was either going to have to play it really smart or she was probably going to have her neck snapped.

It seemed the only way he could vent his anger was going to be to cause more harm to Rachel. If anything, he shouldn't be angry at all, with a passing thought about her arm and the pain it still and will probably cause her until it's attended to. But she could be sure he wasn't on the same page as her. Her plan was simple, she was going to have to act faster than him. And so as he was shifting from being stunned to attack with his left again, Rachel was throwing out her own left towards his face while turning her head to the left as if she were looking over the shoulder and partially closing the right eye.

She didn't need to reach him for a punch, that wasn't her goal. Instead her thumb slide away as her arm thrust forward, expelling from the small tube in her hand her mix of spices. Consisting of primarily chili powder, grounded black pepper, and in smaller amounts paprika and garlic, it was an simple but very often effective tool for her to carry. The powdered mix was aimed towards the center of his face, and on meeting him would probably spread about his face a bit.

Even though it would have been preferable to wait and use this when his glasses were removed, him declining her request and the likelihood of her ripping them from his face not so great, she had no use in waiting. It was true that having those peppers in the eyes and nose was incapacitating for most individuals, but still inhaling it to cause choking was a viable use. People choke on pepper spray all the time! And even though he still had glasses on, it was still a possibility that that small amounts of the peppers could manage through the the small spaces between the glasses and his eyes. And even if it were just a small amount, it may not cause a significant burning in the eyes like it should in the nose and throat, but getting st in the eye could still ****** them up and cause irritation.

At about this time, the straight punch from his left would be hitting her in stomach since he was already throwing the punch. Rachel's knees dropped a bit lower this time around until she could catch hers balance. It hurt, not as much as the right, but still hurt. This guy must have been pretty tough to withstand the numerous body blows she had dealt earlier. Being hit like that just seemed to drain her for the moment, and although she could take him, the additional damage was doing little to aide in conserving energy and maintaining her stamina. She needed this, because she was going to have to take him out really soon.

12

He sighed, watching the fights progress. This didn't seem to be like it would end well. Still...

He looked over towards the opponents bridge, looking towards the man that was obviously not on the list of fighters for this round. "Oi! Sir! I got a question! Despite the outcome of this, want to find a place to have a match for ourselves if we can? No offense to anyone but I don't want to be sent home without having the chance to fight someone at least!" Being a completely new guy to HoH, he didn't want to not try against some of the professionals that came to this thing.

Snake, try to remember the basics of CQC.

Griff's eye's flared as his opponent's arm shot free from her side, his body lowering slightly, his head bobbing to his right. His left arm extended, his hand attempting to wrap around her fist and wrist. He had no intention of another crush. No point in it. He'd been too nice thus far, and he would not be so polite twice.

Success or not, his eyes were fixed. The rage washed from his face, and despite the broken vessels around his eye sockets, the determination returned. Hell, even Big Boss puked. His metallic arm drew back, his fingers curling in on themselves to expose his shiny, metal palm. his arm rocked forward, and he was poised to knock her arm right out of socket.

[14/17]

[Griff averts the uppercut and attempts a grapple, his metal arm palm striking at her shoulder]

As soon as the wolf man planted his mighty paws on the platform, Fayble's eyes narrowed. This is how animals attacked, then wind themselves up then let it fly. It was her hint to move. Crow hopping to the right, Fayble moved to the side and out of his way, planting her right foot on another pole whilst the other stayed firm on the ledge of the center pole. It gave her a little time as the wolf's body soon passed her.

Holding her hammer with both hands and snapping it over her head, Fayble twisted her grip on the handle, making it grow to the second size her weapon offered. It was the size of a large sledgehammer this time around. With a grunt, Fayble sent down the onto the wolf's lower back, releasing her charge of 10,000 volts through her metal hammer to disperse amongst his spine. At this rate the femme was gunna need a little boost, there was no second guessing her opponents strength. The thing was the maximum regulation size for god sakes. That said, Fayble bolted back onto the platform and behind the beast to stall for a little time. Reaching to her belt, Fay clicked on her belt and readied her hammer as a new surge of energy coursed into her body.

Quote: Power Up!:

When 2 of 3 of Fayble's amulets are activated (buckle+hand), two power ups occur. First and foremost is her addition in strength, this enables her to wield her hammer, and deliver nasty punches. Secondly, is an energy boost. This strengthens electricity so that her attacks produce many times the power of her previous Voltage ability. This amplifies her strength by two to three times. Otherwise she is just a strong human. The duration of this ability is as long as the amulets are on. Though the amulets are powered as long as the mechanisms are running, the Power Up! ability works when Fayble needs or thinks of using the item's strength. Otherwise, it mainly works just to help her wield her hammer in it's heavier forms. She was ready for him now.

(See Weapons and Voltage LVL.2)

It seemed that no matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't land something that would let her pull this totally in favor. Although this would have been an expectation between fairly skilled opponents from a reasonable person, Rachel was hardly reasonable. That would explain why her frustration was building to an incredible level. The fact that this man would not just lie down for her to step on made her that much more angry. Just as her opponent was pissed, she probably felt it twice as much. And that was her primary source of fuel now. Forget the classic story of a young lady chasing her dreams with hard work and determination, forget the bet that she had made with her teammate in such confidence she didn't even listen to the terms, her one goal at this point was to break this man.

Although he was apparently sickened by the combination of Rachel's attempts to break his defense, he was quote capable of reacting to her from a very short recovery. She just wasn't moving fast enough to capitalize on those short windows it seemed, which was probably a result from the exhaustion her body was facing because of the injuries she sustained. But still, she had it in her to keep pushing. And she would keep pushing with everything she got. Her fist would meet his hand and almost immediately the motion was going to come to a stop, or at least slowed enough down for her to be able to change direction. Although it wasn't his mechanical hand that was going to grapple her, being held in place by the other just gave him time to reach and snap her other arm.

She wouldn't let that happen again.

And so before he could apply any sort of griup around her hand or wrist, she pulled her shoulder back and yanked her arm away from him. Simultaneously, her right knee shot upwards like a rocket. Since he lowered himself, this made it all the easier. Her knee aimed to strike him where the whole fight started, right around where the diaphragm sat. If he felt sick before, this was probably going to make it worse. And hopefully the numerous shots to his body and the spices still present in his face, nasal passage and throat wouldn't allow him to just brush it off as he did before. And hopefully since he seemed so focus on causing her harm that he wouldn't notice, at least in enough time to react with his arms busy above, the knee that was set to impact just moments before his metal hand with hers.

As for the strike with his palm, if it were still going to go, because she pulled her arm away from him and back to a guarding position, it would be impacting with the forearm. It stung quite a bit, but in the state of rage that Rachel was entering into herself, pain as a whole was for the most part dull. She was sore for sure, that was something she wasn't going to get pass, but her energies were directed elsewhere.

14

Antique Queen Wrote:

It gave her a little time as the wolf's body soon passed her.

And that body kept on going. The charge worked wonderfully that way. It allowed Terir to gauge his opponent's reaction, and it allowed him to turn an otherwise reckless, direct attack into an effective means of escape when she decided to avoid it entirely. With nothing in his way to stop him, Terir continued forward, leaping down off the center platform to the assortment of poles surrounding it. But not without a little love tap and a shock.

The hammer grazed his lower back and hind as he pushed forward, and electricity crackled through his fur and into his body. Well, that spoiled an otherwise balanced, four-legged landing, with Terir barely managing to land all four paws on wobbly poles. He growled in frustration, nearly falling flat as his right forepaw slipped off the pole. He quickly regained muscle control and his footing. Electricity, huh? He can't say he enjoyed the cattle prods and stun guns he had been subjected to over the years. He hated the feeling of losing control.

Whipping his head around, he GLARED at her again, but this time with 20% more malice--for free! Human types and their goddamn weapons. He couldn't blame them for their rather inventive ways to level the playing field, but then it never sat right with him that they could deny an evolutionary advantage that way. He couldn't decide what was worse, though; being stabbed or being smashed. Probably smashed at the moment, just because the weakling had a hammer. Firearms absolutely took the cake, though.

But Terir moved quickly, turning back around as soon as he could and leaping back up to the edge of the 6' center platform. She made her point--no more charges. He'd have to be careful, because a direct hit from that hammer could both crush bone and render him temporarily immobilized from the shock. Still, he was just a stupid, wild animal, right? Is that what she wanted? Well, he was going to show her just how much of a wild animal he could be.

He lowered his hands to his sides, curling his claws in ire as he approached her. His lips curled back and his ears folded back as he thrust his muzzle forward and... roared. No, ROARED. Spittle shot from his gleaming fangs in her direction as he bellowed. The terrifying, thunderous shout was released at a deafening volume. He was not right in her face with it, but he was close enough. Yes, he could play the part of the wild animal, the savage beast if she wanted. Now maybe she would take stock of the situation, turn tail and flee. Now she could play the part of the hapless prey and give him a good chase before he brought her down for the kill.

He would really have to restrain himself from killing her, though. They frowned upon that, or so he heard, and he needed to do his best to make it through the tournament.

Why he was taking to time to roar at her was beyond her. Sure it was a little freaky to see the inner workings of his mouth and his dangling uvula. Otherwise, he wasn't striking, so Fayble would do it for him. Grimacing as the spit flied, she quickly reached to her hip with her left, took hold of her dagger and lashed out at his soft belly, slicing into and across, then slam it deep in. At the same time, the right hand holding her hammer choked up onto the long handle and gripped tight, this way, Fayble would smash down onto his chest with aided strength do to her amulets. It would be more than enough to send a normal being to the ground, but to this brute it would knock him back and leave a very badly bruised or broken rib cage. If he stumbled back, Fayble would wind up for another blow with her sledge. Hopping forward a bit in preparation, she swung the weapon like she would a bat at the creature, aiming for his knees.

--

Charge recovery:1

Power: Activated

}3/17{

Hop. Hop. Hop.

"Baby, you can't handle me." One of the thin, whispy poles caught Griff, his left hand catching it as his boots slammed into it, the poll bending as the wobbly surfaces were meant to. His intention was pretty simple as the pole recoiled. He kicked off the pole and twisted himself through the air.

His left snatched the shades off his face, crazy green eyes blazing as he rocketed toward the woman in a tall arch, his right arm poised for C-C-CRAZY!

"I AM A MAYN!"

<1/5>

[16/17]

[Griff slammed into one of the thinner poles to make it bend with it's given wobble, rocketing back off of it to do another flying punch, poised to come at her from above.]

There was a problem with her plan. Griff had a wide arch, and had a great vantage, coming from the sky. And as he leg reached for the heavens, and his testicles, his grin would expand. Given the trajectory, it would would have effectively slammed him right in the gut, were his arm not prepared. His right fist would replace his lower guts upon making contact.

Now, getting punched like this would hurt, for sure, but the human leg is strong. So a punch would hurt if administered to the bottom of the foot, but it would hardly be life threatening. But then, a typical fist was not involved. Griff's fist was entirely iron, like a gauntlet, but without the imprecision of chainlink. Furthermore, it had a special surprise.

Directly after contact with Rachel's foot, the shock would knock loose a very small restraining feature, which rapidly releases both steam and a quick-release piston, which would slam to the front of his arm like a sledge hammer, giving his punch near legendary PSI. Iron Mike Tyson, the Dynamite Kid, is generally considered to have a punch at or around sixteen hundred pounds of pressure in his punches.

This piston pushes Griff Morivan to just under two thousand pounds of direct pressure.

And it came crashing down onto Rachel, who, unless she can levitate or has a rockin'et a**, has pretty much no way of evading the strike on such a small platform.

<Special Used>

[17/17]

[Griff throws his punch to guard his guts, the punch coming down onto Rachel's leg with 2k PSI]

Antique Queen Wrote:

Why he was taking to time to roar at her was beyond her. Sure it was a little freaky to see the inner workings of his mouth and his dangling uvula. Otherwise, he wasn't striking, so Fayble would do it for him. Grimacing as the spit flied, she quickly reached to her hip with her left, took hold of her dagger and lashed out at his soft belly, slicing into and across, then slam it deep in. At the same time, the right hand holding her hammer choked up onto the long handle and gripped tight, this way, Fayble would smash down onto his chest with aided strength do to her amulets. It would be more than enough to send a normal being to the ground, but to this brute it would knock him back and leave a very badly bruised or broken rib cage. If he stumbled back, Fayble would wind up for another blow with her sledge. Hopping forward a bit in preparation, she swung the weapon like she would a bat at the creature, aiming for his knees.

--

Charge recovery:1

Power: Activated

}3/17{

Why did he roar? Well, for one it was an intimidation tactic that clearly would not work on anyone in Gaia because everyone's apparently fine being face-to-face with a warg or "fursuiter," apparently. But there was another, better reason.

To bait the moron. And she took it so so sweetly for him. Yes, if she thought he was nothing but a wild beast, she would be all the more willing to make an immediate attack on what she perceived an idiotic display of aggression. Didn't she know you needed to possess some form of sentience to take part in this thing? Well, then again even a sentient creature could be very, very dumb. But not Terir. Not exactly.

So, basically, no, she did not just pull off three seamless actions before Terir could so much as blink, unless she professed to have some kind of god-like speed ability. In which case, good luck with that.

No doubt she was quick, and Terir was actually surprised she reached for her knife. She was holding a big sledgehammer in both hands, so he expected a blow from that. Which, by the way, what's with the one-handed hammer attack she so beautifully planned in her head? That would be kind of awkward to make with a sledgehammer, especially at a distance where a knife would be effective. Haha, human types and their weapons. Can't even use 'em right.

But Terir was quick, too. He may have had a big body, but he also had powerful muscles and a lot more stamina than a human. He sprung forward, allowing her to get her knife slash in. She would find his skin felt a little more like leather than flesh. Not as supple, but not immune to the cut. But when Terir moved, he stepped to her side away from the knife, twisting his torso as best he could to deflect the blade. The cut would not be as true, and she would not get the satisfaction of digging it in or anything.

Within that same moment his claw would already be flying for her face in a sort of uppercut made with the heel of his palm. Such strikes tended to have jaw-breaking force, and if not, hell he had other plans. He would try to immediately dig his claws in on either side of her face, getting a nice, good flesh-piercing grasp. Nothing serious, but again, he had other plans. His body would continue to surge forward on her side, moving in too close for any hasty one-handed blow from the hammer to be effective. And then?

Basically a choke-slam, except by pushing on the face he kept firmly in his grasp, instead of by a hold on her neck. Your vote on which would hurt worse, but it certainly wouldn't be pleasant.

But whatever happened, whatever came of the results, Terir made his point.

This cunning wolf doesn't just stand there and take hits with his mouth agape. He slams the back of your head into the floor for even thinking that.

"I hear you there, somebody hit the rewind button and give a stage that doesn't suck."