Kenji vs Izette

PSST, KENJI. I THINK YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO READ THAT STICKIED THREAD AT THE TOP AND POST A STAGE TEMPLATE.

Kenji looked up at the bulletin board.

"SEXUAL ASSAULT AWARENESS" was printed in large, cut out letters strung out on on the top. To a child it must have looked frightening to see that so bluntly spelled out every time they took their whoseits and whatsits out for tinkle time. To Kenji he just wondered how many people on this wall were crying because he like got stoned and drunk, drove his shitty car-at-the -time into a home, and violated someone's right to privacy for two hours.

It was unknown to him at the time, but he had this picture of himself in his wallet. In it he was smiling like a nutcracker getting a dk up his a. Still he had no idea why he had it on him. The only thing he could think it was was Josie, his super b***h ex with a fetish for infidelity*. The picture was taken when they were together and was swapped out for the one he carried of her.

Now he was rather glad she did that. Reaching into his wallet Kenji pulled out the folded picture and stuck it on the bulletin board in hopes that he may reconnect with some of his past victims, then he realized he would need a note. He grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper and jotted down a few sentences.

"Hello, fine rape victims. My name is Kenji Hood. You may know me as that guy who ruined your life or the reason why you can't have kids or whatever, but I'm a changed man. I wanted to apologize. I do not rape anymore. I have limited myself to only killing, maiming, torturing, and terrorism now. I know, how do I get by? I get by by telling everyone how sorry I am. I'm so sorry I stuck my d**k where it wasn't suppose to go. I'll never do it again. Please forgive me. In a few days I'm having a cookout, but we're running a little low on meat. So just stop on by to my suite, we'll get the grills on, and eat whatever you have on you.

P.S. I'm extra sorry for all the fat girls I defiled. We'll make you a nice meal."

Kenji stuck the note under his picture.

Now it was time to fight.

The unconventional woman within would find her chosen target gone, disappearing a true ninja like fashion to leave her all on her lonesome. Fortunately that solitude wouldn't last that long as shortly there after, the unmistakable symphony of of rubber against linoleum would signal the arrival of a replacement.

Having made his over to this setting in a brisk jog from his previous locale, Benjamin appeared the same as he had before, if a little more peckish and bored than when he'd first entered an arena nearly identical to this one. That is to say he was adorned in a dark tee slashed with a white which was met at the waist by a pair white jeans which were covered past his knee by a pair of black boots. His arms were sheathed in black bracers and modest selection of jewelry adorned his hands to match with the belt studded with gems at his hips.

Having been irked nightly by how long he'd had to wait for a bout, he did not announce his presence with some sweet pleasantries as was his norm. Instead, he made his way once more past the stack of steel chairs by the entrance and picked one up in passing and continued on towards the bulletin board that bisected the hallway and the woman nearby.

Upon his approach, if nothing else occurred in the meantime, he'd promptly shove his improvised bludgeoning object into the glass encasing the bulletin board.

Why?

Simply because he was severely pissed at this whole waiting thing and sorely needed an outlet to unleash his anger. Which was a bit extreme however, no matter how over the top and nonsensical such an act might seem, one might do well to remember that was a Benjamin was overly dramatic individual. Thus the only surprise was that he didn't slam his hunk of metal over his opponent head instead, but then again no matter how aggravated or overly dramatic he might feel at the moment, Ben was still a gentleman at heart. Meaning he always gave a warning shot to the ladies.

Ah, oh how he had wanted to slam that foul bulletin board into oblivion, but alas his new found combatant found need to intercede. Her apparent surprise meant someone had off in their own little world there, having ignored both the page to her fighter and the approach of the new player. Yet her honed combat reflexes and battle lust showed her the right path as she swung into his wielding a.....florescent light bulb?

Were he not filled with fury a single eyebrow may have quirked at that fact, but in his present state of cold rage he simply blinked and parried with his own improvised weapon. He answered swing with swing, meeting her (from his view) right to left swing with one of his own going in the opposite direction, their fight beginning with a "shattering" blow as glass of glass her long light bulb met his metal chair.

He held his weapon by the legs and upon contact he turned his head slightly to avoid the flying glass as he slid his left foot forward to bring that behind the seat of the chair. Then with an extra umph, he pivoted clockwise to followed up his parry with a follow through swing, expanded the muscles he'd contracted as he'd moved forward.

With the finesse of a drunken swordsmen, the woman before him performed a bit of an improvised up and over using the brittle nature of her weapon to slide some of its length above Benjamin's own. She was questing for a kidney with her attack but lo' and behold the princess was in another castle, as his kidney was located nowhere near the upper right portion of the body that had become accessible to her.

No instead of biting into the a fresh meaty kidney, her sharp toothed implement would gnaw into his right shoulder slicing through skin and muscle and leaving bits of itself behind. Benjamin's efforts did little to hamper her efforts, save for the fact that contact was brief, leaving Ben with a bit of a handicap. The glass would not bite deep enough to sever the muscle but it would make it mighty hard for the man to get good exterior rotation in that arm without setting that joint on fire and potentially doing more damage. Blood leaked slowly from the wound, and begun to turn the upper arm of his shirt a dark red color.

Oh and there was also pain, but not enough to make Ben cry out, seeing as the damage was more along the lines one received when smashing one's hand through a window, and no real man would utter more than a grunt especially when feeding of RAEG. So he'd grunt, and his body did the rest as he sent his foe flying off into a water fountain. From which moments later came the sounds of....laughter?

Well that did make the man pause. The inexplicable and unorthodox reaction to pain was sufficient enough to break through his haze, bringing a bit more awareness to his eyes and a bit more of his rambunctious personality. He paused for a moment then simply stared at her and grinned, seeming to share in that maniacal glee for a moment, as he lowered his weapon and rested it legs up against his left leg. Then he did something inexplicable of his own, albeit much less so than her response, as he began to fidget with his hands cracking his knuckles and moving about his jewelry such that his ring moved from his left to right hand and his bracelet in the opposite direction. A nervous habit perhaps? Regardless he then used his left hand to grab hold of the chair once more, holding it legs up by the first rung under the seat.

“Oh well you seem like fun!”

He tried to give a duh-shrug then winced, having unwittingly brought back some pain to his shoulder, before continuing as if nothing happened.

"Of course I am lass! Don't you woman talk about these things?"

He raised his left hand high bringing the chair with it, although with only one hand holding it, it seemed to lean forward a tad.

"After all, I'm widely known for my unending generosity."

And without further ado, he heaved his present in her general direction.

| 2 |

Seeing as she was throwing herself as he was running his mouth, she's already allowed him the time to tend to his nervous habit. As for whether or not he could swing his fly swatter around, he was not lacking in room to do so since he was still standing in the center of the hallway facing down its length however he was lacking in time, since the woman had launched herself before he could really get a good grip on it.

"Of course I am lass! Don't you women--"

Without much time to make use of his weapon he'd abandoned it as he abandoned his banter to react to the woman's rude interruption. Instead of moving back in response to the hellcat lunging towards him, Benjamin would instead move into the blow, stepping forward on his right foot as he pivoted that corresponding elbow to swing his forearm around to bat her wrist to the outside and thus deflect her left-handed stab. It was just the kind of thing he liked to do, more often than not rushing towards danger, relying on his flexibility and ingenuity to see him through alive.

As well, he'd like to respond to ever attack with one of his own and as such his action didn't end there. As his foe's momentum carried her forward, he'd follow up with a left hook to the jaw which go well with his parrying action to divert her line of motion further to his right.

| 3 |

edit: To clear up a misinterpretation of her attack

Although Izzy was moving forward as she attacked, she'd find it hard to hit her target on the mark as it was moving along the same line. After all, Benjamin was following his parry with a hook and thus was rotating his body clockwise to gain leverage to deliver his blow. Now that not so say she blade wouldn't bite, as it would slice into the blond's flesh just above the elbow splitting the skin and carving a red line up his forearm. That is until Josie met the tail end of his bracer its hook caught against the metal rim, and was jerked out of her grip just before his own hook made contact.

"Unnn~"

He elicited a grunt in pain but was overall not too worse for wear if one did not consider how bit by bit his right arm was becoming more like a nuisance than an asset. Seemed his opponent was a bit of a porcupine as each time he tried to swat her away, she poking him with her various 'quills' at her disposal. But at least he made contact with his left fist.

A contact that went quite well, suspiciously so in fact. For after taking the blow on her jaw and crumpling to the floor, the woman looked like she would stay there for days. However instead taking this opportunity to catch his breath, break off from combat or turn his back in a victory chant....Ben simply smirked. For he was going to fall for it.

From her early antics, like her ravage battle lust and lack of decorum, Ben was getting a picture of what kind of person the foe before him was. That being the kind of sneaky suka* to fake playing dead to gain an advantage in combat. After all had she been weak enough to really be taken out by that blow, she wouldn't be in this tournament in the first place.

So instead of relaxing his guard, Benjamin decided to up the anti. Two could play at this game of bring blades out of nowhere. So as she lay there he'd raised left hand, quickly snap twice in rapid succession and drop his fist like a hammer.

"Do I really look that stupid?"

He'd proclaim as his fist came down as the ring now present on that hand began to glow with a white light.

| 4 |

*b***h in russian

Well what do you know? A well placed groin kick from Miss Sneaky-sneak, a tried and true blow for those who liked to play dirty know for not only its speed and abruptness but also for its ability to make grown men cry. Thus it was not something to be taken lightly, and all efforts should be made to avoid being hit by one if you had the chance.

So how would Benjamin respond? What would he do in the face of such viciousness and depravity?

Absolutely nothing.

For what he had already set in motion was more than enough to deal with such an event. For as the woman before him would soon find out, he wasn't preparing any sort of fireball, curse, hex or death spell but instead he'd simply activated something far simpler. You see the double-snap was a trigger, a command to activate a preexisting enchantment on the bracelet. A simple transfiguration spell that once activated could flip the endowed object between two separate states.

So to his opponent's surprise and dismay, she'd feel her leg ZAMMM! into cold hard metal instead of squishy ball-sacks. For the secondary state of the bracelet that Benjamin usually wore on his right hand, but had so deftly switched to his left earlier on, was that of an arming sword.

Granted the switch was not instantaneous but that was why he'd initiated it before he swung his arm downward, so that the blade would appear right before he stabbed her in the leg. Unfortunately that leg has moved out of the way into preparation for a low blow, he'd end up stabbing the ground instead but seeing as what had been headed his way Benjamin was satisfied with the outcome.

Now with sword in hand, he'd really begin to bring home some pain. Whether Izzy was going to keep flopping that leg once she realized what she had made contact with, was up to her. Benjamin would really care less at the moment, after all he was just enjoying the feeling of a blade in his hand once more. A joy he'd tried to impart to his opponent as his switched his grip from reverse to standard and jerked it skyward a few inches to free it from the earth, a that motion would unfortunately also kick up a bit of dust. Not much of problem for Ben since he was standing nearly upright but it might be a bit of nuisance for the woman laying prone before him.

| 5 |

Since the blond loved liquor so much, it would be a blessing if his blood could turn into wine. But alas such things weren't bound to happen as he wasn't a god or even the sun of one. Just lucky in the sense that his opponent's last couple of maneuvers were dampened by things Benjamin had already set in motion.

It also didn't help that his opponent was one of those people who loved to spilling of blood regardless of whose it was, whereas Benjamin was the type to let others do the blooding for him when he could help it. A point made painfully clear when his opponent....when she....skewered herself?

What the ******** was she doing?

Ben understand the notion of sacrifice but he also knew a little bit about self-preservation. You willing hurt yourself for an decisive opening, you don't flay yourself for the heck of it.

....

....

Well....

...if she was just going to give it to him it would be rude not to accept her offering or so Benjamin's renewed wolfish grin said. But it seemed she hadn't quite finished the job, for if she was going to cut off chunks of herself then it would be foolish to stop half way through. Good thing he was going to be such a gentlemen and help her out in that regard.

First by stomping down the ankle of that (right?) foot with his left to hold that leg in place, and securing his suddenly shaky grip on his sword with his almost useless right hand hoping to leak whatever power from it he could without killing himself. And then by following through on her self inflicting cut until she either gave in from the pain or the blade parted with her flesh. He'd do his best to follow her initial arc, sawing his blade back and forth along the road map she'd set for out him.

Seemed like Ol' Ben had cracked a bit, or rather let his 'greed' get the best of him. Just like he hoarded liquor and women and fashion when he could, he also liked to hoard pain. Although this was pushing it even for him, seemed some of that woman's madness was rubbing off.

| 6 |

Well sadly, this wasn't turning out as fun as Ben had been hoping it would be. A lack of screams and cries of pain, made this a pretty paltry meal for the bloodthirsty personality that had breached the surface of his pretty boy facade. It seemed his "victim" was one of those types who thrived under the blade, either able to enjoy or ignore the pain to the point that it wasn't really worthy causing it much longer. So without any obvious pain to feed it, his blood-lust seemed to diminish as he had to admit, with dismay, that he was much better off performing surgical strikes.

A brilliant discovery that came a bit late, for as he was musing and mulling over the sad facts of life his opponent was busy pulling something out of her sleeve. Alerted to her efforts by the rustle/scrapping or whatever noise her weapon made as it was gathered up from his hiding place and flicked into motion. Seeing as he had a perfectly good blade that was doing nothing much besides stirring a flesh stew, he'd yank it outta of its meaty scabbard and into a blocking position. This would be done via a left to right slashing strike which Benjamin promptly named 'janitor sweeping the dirty hallway'.

Or at least that was his intent. Maybe it was because his right arm was in this regards more a hindrance than a help, a bit of dead weight, or maybe it had to do with the fact that flesh was ever reluctant to metal or maybe his luck had just turned. Whatever the cause, his blade wouldn't arrive in time to stop the blade from biting into his right knee, the blade sticking fast to the knotty mass of bone and cartilage. Sending waves of pain through his body and dampening his efforts to repel the weapon, as late as they were.

As he elicited a sharp howl of pain and rage and agony, his blade momentum would carry it through the space he blade had just traversed, a space that now was inhabited by her arm. Although he lent no further thought to the action, the momentum he had already gathered would be enough to bury into her wrist. There would be no chance of it severing the limb, not without him putting some more weight into it, but it would lend more blood to the whole affair and probably chewed up some muscle as well.

Especially since he'd be leaning onto the blade for support shortly, as he'd have trouble remaining standing with one knee now a bloody mess. His body would being to buckle without a proper base on which his weight could rest, slowly drifting forward. The action sliding the blade further along her wrist, before the blades tip which hadn't been that far off the ground begin with, sunk into the earth once more.

| 7 |

edit: Clarification.

His pain began to subsided and with it his fierce howl that spoke of anything and everything but joy. Many a foul curse was laid at the feet of the damn woman who had stuck him like a pig, in the knee of all places! He but what was done was done, and he had to live with it but that didn't mean he had to like it. It simply meant he had to move on and give her what's she'd given him two-fold.

And it was as his dark thoughts began stirring that the man caught sight of two fists barreling in for his chest, knocking his back on to rocky footing. Not because of actually rocks underneath but because his right leg wasn't really obeying any commands beneath his thighs. Wobbly didn't quite cut it, he was swaying like a sailor and rapidly approaching the ground.

But even if his leg wasn't reliable his blade sure as hell was. It wasn't buried deep enough to stop his fail or brace against but it slowed his fall as it wrenched free from the earth. Enough for him to reposition the blade towards his left, so that he could use it to lean against the wall.

He'd then begin to make his way towards it, to get a brief respite as he leaned against that ugly tiled facade. He had a bit of time after all, since that she-devil wasn't going anywhere fast after having that much meat carved out of her leg.

| 8 |