Southwest District

The Commons

The Commons is actually a collection of locations lumped into one overarching area that is serviced by a single tram stop. Station E is located near the center of what could be considered a shopping mall, in regards to what is available and how it is set up.

Along the strip are a number of 'shopping' facilities provided by the Foundation to its honored guests... Of course, all services are complimentary to participants of the tournament (past or present) whether it is drinks in the lounge or dinner at one of the restaurants. Perhaps trying out the latest version of Heaven or Hell: The Game at the arcade would be more to your liking? There is even a tailor reserved for on-call fittings should a tournament participant feel that s/he is in need of a few alterations to their wardrobe.

Though it may seem somewhat immature, there is also a water park, likely included to spite the popularity of the pool in the Crimson Hawk. How vain.

Pylons Wrote:

Standing before you is one of the strange, crystalline monoliths that seem to be placed all over the Ark. The cyclopean pylons have been chiseled in such a way that it is impossible to garner a solid look at them – the seemingly-perfect angles are not right to the eye, causing momentary lapses of vertigo or even hallucinations. The objects thrum with power of a wholly unknowable sort, possessing a prismatic glow that is both spectacular and disturbing to behold. If one is able to inspect them more closely, they will be able to see things carved into them – runes and glyphs that writhe and morph, never constant. Of course, it would be rather difficult to obtain such proximity, given the security that continually guards and monitors each outcropping.

Pylon Epsilon is located in the men's showers at the poolside locker room. Don't be shy, the security is there for your own safety and they have been trained not to let their eyes wander.

The air about the restaurant was warm and sweet, scented mostly with fruit and fresh bread, the evening rush having not yet arrived to change the dining room's atmosphere or general flavor. It was calm for the moment, the hour just past three in the afternoon. Lovi could hear conversations between staff members as they met in passing; usually on the remarkably dull topic of work or fellow co-workers. She tended not to listen when the subject didn't suit her, but she supposed it really wasn't her business one way or another.

Lovi sat alone at a corner booth contemplating the presence of the island she was currently visiting and the recent news (recent to her, at least) that it had not existed before now. This place was strange enough without having the added ambition of another psychotic narcissist and whatever 'scheme' he intended in creating a whole new land mass in tribute to his own power. What had she gotten herself roped into...

The morning had come and gone pleasantly enough, and Lovi had successfully avoided any notion of boarding a ferry to the ark until she realized that the crowds couldn't gather as effectively in so isolated a location. She had since enjoyed a pleasant afternoon alone with a book and a frequently replenished cup of coffee at hand. People had come and gone, certainly, but there was much more to be seen in the commons, and Lovi was content to remain where she was so long as nothing impeded upon her momentary peace.

A tram car came to a slow stop at Station E and it's automatic doors opened. Sneaker-clad feet stepped out of the tram and into what looked like a shopping mall. A really nice one considering the punk had heard rumors of an indoor water park. The Ark intrigued him without a doubt, particularly how it's construction (especially the giant skyscraper) had been kept secret for so long. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and here he was. By himself and without distractions. Edward strolled through the Commons, instinctually blending into the crowd as he'd been taught years ago.

The odd-looking cyborg eventually entered a bar, taking in the high-profile sight without the slightest hint of being impressed. Edward made a bee-line for the bar and took a seat, wasting no time in hailing the bartender and ordered a coke. He showed the man the Fighter on his right wrist, an arm that was also host to a peculiar set of tendril -like tattoos that curved up-and-down his arm in disturbing and just wrong patterns, and he quickly went about preparing the complimentary drink. The mercenary just waited patiently, resting both elbows (cybernetic and not) on the bar top.

"Well I know one thing..."

Tres looked away from Lovi while nodding his head down and raising his right hand. With his curled fingers he gestured over towards the waiter, calling him towards his presence.

"Torden, doesn't have me in it. So it couldn't be as exciting.", Tres said confidently before the waiter came close to there table. The waiter asked Tres would he like to place an order. "Pita and Hummus, plus whatever water no ice please.", Tres didn't drink for the duration of the tournament and suddenly Lovi may have realized how strange it was for a person to not order alcohol in Gaia prime. The waiter left with Tres's order and Tres turned in his seat to gaze at Lovi again.

"So what do you think of the Arc lovi?"

"No...no, it didn't," she agreed, the sarcasm still present, though it was clear that whatever she intended to say, he was too high on himself to be put down. She did take note of his choice in food, but she took more notice of his bags of new-found clothing. She couldn't begrudge him his shopping habits, though she did wonder about a man who care more for his wardrobe than the average debutante.

"It's an interesting place," she replied sincerely, still running through possible escape plans in the back of her mind as they conversed, "if a bit unnatural. Really, I think that anyone who creates such a monument to their own idea of power is compensating for something."

She sipped at her coffee for a moment as the waiter returned with Tres' order. He inquired as to the state of her coffee, and she politely asked for another. Given that they were supposed to consider themselves teammates for an extended period of time, Lovi deemed it reasonable to at least try and carry the conversation for a brief time.

"And you?" She threw the question back at him, only mildly curious for his opinion. She had an idea about how he might have felt about the Ark, but it was rude to jump to conclusions. Rude and somewhat entertaining.

Terran shrugged. "Eh. Can't win'em all." He said with a chuckle, arm stretching out to grasp the mecharm for a shake. "Pleasure to meet ya, sir." As he settled back into his seat, he caught a gulp off of his ale before Edward started talking. "Yep. She's pretty pissed at me, but yeah, she's on the team." The smile on his face stiffened a bit, but he nodded courteously. "Thanks. I'm actually getting a lot of that this year. This is my first HoH, but it seems like a lot of folk knew him, if only sort of. But then, we're here because of him, really."

He wasn't sure if Edward had heard the broadcast, but Terran and all the rest of Asgard had made it totally open that they were out for some blood on the guy responsible. "So, how was your prelim?" He quickly diverted the topic. He knew full well that people tended to look down on revenge, and he wanted to mitigate the damage of it some.

Edward nodded and left the conversation at that. He just wanted to give Terran his condolences. The rest was, frankly, none of Edward's business. The cyberpunk knew, after months and months of rumors buzzing around, that Morivan's demise was murder. He also knew that Asgard was competing in the man's memory, and (though he wasn't sure based on facts) could assume they wanted his murderer/s dead as door nails. Revenge was a dirty and tricky business. The kind Edward would prefer to be left out of.

"It was boring," the cyberpunk gladly changed the subject, sipping his drink again through a nifty bendy straw. He thought back to his match with Grave Digger or was it Desecrator? Who cares.. Edward could have not shown up and his opponent would have managed to fight himself to the death. "I didn't really feel like fight, but I fought anyway. My opponent was really lackluster, though I heard your first opponent just walked out on you. Roen Jaeger... My old teammate."

Sip, sip.

He grinned as Terran went about telling his story, imagining the whole thing quite vividly. The cyberpunk envisioned the Infernal beating up some kid and though it made him frown momentarily; nevertheless, Edward rectified that easily by just aging the imagined kid by about a decade and all was well. Point being: The guy was young and he got his a** kicked. It sounded great and a few quick mental maneuvers had Terran's fight in a download queue.

"Personally, no, though another fight with Sabrina would be pretty cool." The punk shrugged his shoulders as if none of it really mattered, and to the cyborg it didn't. "I let fate sort that out and then I worry about it when a fighter is placed in front of me. Until then, I don't really have an opinion. I just hope it'll be fun and that's that."

"What I want..."

Tres leaned back in his chair with a confident smile.

"What I want is simple. I want to fight the strongest there is. If I win, then that will prove that it is me...if I lose then it will be just another step towards achieving my true potential of being the best.

There are these strange things scattered around this island. I haven't been able to examine them, something about them puts a strain on even my mind...but I want to know more about them, to study them. They may be relevant to the my studies of psionics.", Tres spoke vaguely of the guarded pylons. The confident warrior failed to mention the guards that he was not able to get past to further inspect the mind bending objects. Though they likely were just protecting the headstrong warrior from himself.

"Its different for every person...", Tres began sounding rather serious. Typically Tres spoke in a boisterous self assured tone. However, when Tres talked about things that he was personally serious about whether it be the martial arts. "Just like how people have different mental talents, the power 'feels' different to different people. Though most tend to have a feeling of increased perceptual ability.

For me when I'm manifesting powers it feels as if a wave of creative inspiration has come over me. Like that feeling you get when you have a great original idea. Different power manifestations also feel different, for example when I focus psionic energy into my muscles I can feel a wave of disembodied motion shooting up through the limb...

Though, when its not being used in general...for me it feels as if I am more in touch with my body than I ever was. I have a sort of sensitivity about the way I interact with things and a certain heightened sense of control over my own faculties."

"No. When I was young the physical martial arts came easy to me. I learned to walk and speak at an early age but...I just could never find the internal strength to utilize my father's spiritual abilities and I had no talent with my mothers magic. For most of my life I lacked this power...or at least...the awareness of it. My body has always been abnormally strong, now I know that the reason this is was because my mind gave it power.

Both of my parents lacked supernatural abilities that they could teach me that I could actually perform.

It took me finally going off on my own to gain that sort of power.", Tres spoke seriously for most of the statement. Yet when he arrived to the part about him going off on his own he smiled and entwined his fingers together while nodding his head off to the side whimsically. It became obvious to Lovi that it seemed the only person who's approval Tres really cared about was his parents.

Tres knew his father would want him to fight the good fight, but Tres didn't have the heart for it. Tres lacked the empathy required for heroism. His mother's way was something that was much easier for Tres to follow. Personality wise Tres and Athena were very similar, and it was easy to see that they got along well. Tres however lacked his mother's independence in certain ways but despite his character flaws he held his father's ability when it came to teaching and attracting people.

If there was one thing that Lovi could be absolutely certain of, it was that when Tres talked a big game he really, truly believed it. But when he spoke with an almost humility, or at least blunt honesty on his difficulties in youth, she seemed genuinely surprised at how frankly he had answered her question.

"Hmm," she hummed a small sigh as she contemplated what childhood must have been like in a home that held such high expectations for its children, and concluded that she would have hated it. But she couldn't be entirely certain that the expectations to which her teammate was trying to live weren't simply his own.

"That must have been difficult to learn on your own," she said as she eased back into the cushion of the booth seat and crossed her legs gingerly, residing to stay for the remainder of her current drink at least.

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

"I want to be the best fighter in the world, and I will be.

"I find the thought of that unsettling," she said sincerely. Lovi could not deny him his innate inhibitions concerning personal truths, and decided to repay his honesty in kind. Tresondros shared much of himself with others, but she had, most unfortunately, witnessed a less obvious state of his personality in watching him interact with his mother. Accordingly, she supposed it was only fair to be entirely candid with him (not that she had ever made an effort to hid her true feelings before then).

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

"One skill of yours that I want to add to my repertoire is your ability to lead. Tell me, how did you come to lead your brothel? Do you also own it? and if so what is the most important thing when it comes to leading others."

She paused for a moment to consider his inquiry. She knew that she was the 'leader' of her makeshift family, but she had never felt comfortable acknowledging that her position was one of authority within the guild.

"I came to Sigil from a similar place in Torden," she explained, "The guild is not my creation, but a branch of what originated in my homeland generations ago. I left my Madame and brought two souls and three bodies with me, and we are the core of the organization in your city."

"The point is not to 'own' a business. We're a guild. For us, that means that my girls pay a very small fee to keep our facilities running and they keep the better part of their income. I'm not their boss or their pimp, and that fact alone gives them comfort and a reason to trust me." 'Girls' was not a totally accurate term, as Lovi also had men of various age and orientation in her employ as well. But the larger part of her demographic responded to 'girls' with more favor than 'boys, girls and everything in between'.

'It's already underway, Vincentius. Channeling it through that lich's phylactery was the best idea you've had in a long time. Well done!'

A smile was flashed as the phone snapped shut, being dumped back in one of the pockets of the man's baggy basketball shorts. He stepped off the tram shortly after Selini did, and although he made it seem accidental, he kept a close eye on the female. As one of the higher ups in this giant tournament scheme, Vince had been watching certain competitors closely, and Selini just happened to be one of them. The female had been battered and bruised, beaten to a pulp, and yet... the magic, the channeling of her own pain somehow allowed her to flip the tables, resulting in a victory in her individual bout.

It was... impressive, to say the least. The massive man had first attempted to reach the female by other means, but it had appeared as if her team had yet to actually meet with her, and as such, Vince had no luck following that route. He'd been walking the grounds when he noticed her enter the tram station, and so, he'd decided to ignore his regular duty of walking around monitoring everything in order to monitor something else completely. Picking up the pace a little bit, the massive man pushed his way through the crowd and up next to the woman, his emerald eyes taking the opportunity to take in everything she had to offer.

"Excuse me, miss.. Isn't it just a tad bit strange to have a mask on while wandering around a shopping district? Someone might get the wrong idea and alert security or something..." The words were spoken in her ear as Vince bent down, making accommodations for their height difference. A smile lined his face from ear to ear as he thought about what he was doing; stalking a competitor. What the hell was wrong with him?

"It's not about having power," she felt inclined to clarify. Lovi made a relatively respectable business of the guild, but the point of it was not to make money or pursue authoritative power. Her so called "followers" were the only form of family that she had ever known, and she hated being away from them for such an extended period.

She switched the cross of her legs and sat with the coffee cup to her lips, sipping on occasion as she examined the pattern of tiling on the floor.

"Would you really force people into your organization?" she asked after a brief pause. She didn't believe that he was the type to force his beliefs on others, but she wasn't quite confident enough to put it entirely past him.

The large man shook his head as she revealed to him the device attached to her arm. He would have known she was a competitor regardless of if she'd been able to provide the device for his viewing or not; after-all, it was somewhat his job to pay attention and know the competitors, seeing as how it was his responsibility to keep them safe, so to speak. His eyes traced up her arm and back into her eyes, grinning as he studied her movements, her reactions, her nature.

With a slight chuckle, he raised one of his large hands and placed it gently to the side of the mask that adorned her face. "Mm.. I didn't even need to look at that, honestly. I spent a good deal watching your fight in the preliminaries, so I know well that you wear a FIGHTER and the shackles on your wrist." The hand on the side of the mask would remain, as would the grin on his face, as he continued on. "The island is indeed strange... but isn't it the strange things in life that attract people the most?"

Vince asked playfully, whispering in her ear once more. "I do suppose I should introduce myself," Slowly, he moved his lips from her ear to speak more clearly, a bit louder than before. "I'm Vincentius Alaphare. I'm one of the Judges in this event, and you.. sparked my interest, so to speak. I was wondering if perhaps you'd allow me to spend the day with your beautiful self."

Vince would bend back down, his lips pressed close to her ear again. "That being the case.. what could I do to get you to remove that mask and allow me to gaze upon all of your beauty?"

Vince simply nodded as she spoke of the cameras, and slowly, he allowed himself to gaze around the pair, noticing that no one was around except for a few of the shop owners staring oddly at the pair. Gigantic male and small, mask wearing female; a strange sight in the slightest, even though as both of them had clearly pointed out, there were stranger things in the world, most definitely.

"In a way, your identity is no secret to me. Yet.. a name and a few instances of short footage are all I have of you. To be fair, if we were going based on that, I'd say that my identity is of no secret to you, either." Vince smiled gently as she guided his hand beneath the mask. She was tempting the man to remove the mask, even though she'd expressed that she wanted to keep it on, and that decision bothered Vince. On one hand, he wanted to make the lady happy by leaving it be, but on the other... He shook his head and closed his eyes, allowing his hand to lift up ever so slightly on the mask, just enough so that he could clearly see her face in the shadow of the poorly lit space.

It was after he'd lifted her mask to that point that his eyes reopened, revealing... something... inhuman. His eyes were sharper, more defined, almost cat-like in appearance. The pupil had changed drastically, almost diamond shaped in appearance, and where his eyes had been a vivid green before, they now appeared to be intensified tenfold, seemingly glowing even in the poor lighting. The back of his hand where her's was resting upon his own seemed to change in texture and thickness, growing patches of thick green scales where his skin had been seconds before.

"You offered me a secret, and so, I'll offer you on of my own. After-all... not all is as it appears to be upon first glance, no?" Vince smiled and pulled her mask back down for her, allowing her to make the decision if she were to pull it back off or not. With that, he bent down, grabbed her hand, kissed the back of it, and looked up at her, not bothering to change his eyes back to normal at the moment. "Well miss.. it is you who has me for a day. Where would you like to go? Remember.. everything is a treat on me."

Paidi tou Selini Wrote:

"Goodness, but you are quite the charmer. I hope you will understand when I say that I am... umm..." she raised her other arm to once again bring focus on the heavy iron shackle, "..not accustomed to the privilege of my own decisions."

Vince nodded, understanding very well what that meant. He'd had his own days where he was enslaved by multiple causes; some good such as love, and others bad, such as the mentally crippling curse placed on his race by the ancient elves, something known as the Rage. The curse no longer resided in his mind, but in the past, it had been a nagging feeling, driving a dragon or drake to extreme actions; pushing them to slaughter people, animals, or each other, just to get a taste of more and more blood. Back then, Vince had tried hard to control the rage, and he'd held on to his sanity, yet.. something about those days left a bad taste in his mouth, and he honestly couldn't say he wouldn't go back and do it again, if not only for the fun and sport of it all.

"I understand that feeling more than you know. A slave to love, a slave to ancient elven kings and curses, and a slave to myself. All of those I have been, however..." Vince lifted his free hand and gently wrapped his hand around the shackle that she had tried to bring to his attention. His long fingers reached up to her hand, and to the best of his ability, he tried to hold both her hand and the shackle at one time, as gently as he could, as if not to bring harm to her. "I am none of those things anymore, although, I can't say I much despised being a slave to love. It brought out a part of me that I hadn't been able to express throughout most of my life. Perhaps you understand?"

Vince raised a brow as she asked about privacy, and he once more risked to glance around the area to see who was watching. It still only appeared as if a few of the shop keepers had taken interest in the two, yet, those few shop keepers must have been too much for her. Vince was quick to attempt and please the ladies, so he thought hard, finally shaking his head after a short moment of contemplation.

"Of course there are a few private places, and a few more after that, I suppose. One would be your room, and one would be mine. Although... It's not often a gentleman tries to bring a woman back to his room within five minutes of their meeting." Vince chuckled, shaking his head at his own jest. "Of course.. we can do what you'd like."

Tomorrow Wrote:

Suddenly, the realization of what he'd agreed to hit him, and visions of thoroughly difficult to carry bags filling his hands as Raven dragged him from one boutique to the next like her own personal pack-mule flashed over his eyes as they were bundled into the tram finally. "Odin save me..." he murmured as he put his arms around her, shielding her with his body from the ready of the crowd as the doors closed and they were whisked away to the Commons.

The feeling of dread passed quickly, though. She tried on the most outlandish gear for him in compensation...

"Don't forget that you agreed to run errands and what-not for me!" She had that devilish grin to her as mischievous orange eyes looked up at him.

"So don't expect the old man to pull your a** out of this fire!" Luckily the ride wasn't too long and as the doors to the tram slid open again she was happy to let the way clear before pulling her escort out with her.

Rae just looked around, willing to admit that the decor wasn't as bad as that hall full of statues... however if there was a portrait of anyone besides Sunny in her quarters she was going to burn it before anything else She didn't care if it was supposed to be god or some other famous fighter!

"I bet there is someplace to eat around here..." If there wasn't she was thinking about bouncing them back to the hotel and saying to hell with this over-sized boat

Though her attempts at avoiding eye contact meant she didn't notice the disappointment on his face, she did catch a hint of it in his tone. It was something she had long since learned to listen for in her master, so here it was little more than a startling instinct. Not that comparing a foundation judge to a 'master' was much of a stretch, but that her mind was straying in such a direction was startling enough. Enough, anyways, to wake her from the blush-covered trance she had found herself in. Yet before she could respond and remedy the situation, he had already kissed her hand and quite literally faded away.

Selini stood there for quite some time, staring at the invitation at her feet. Though she wielded magic of her own, she had absolutely no sense for any other, and it never failed to fascinate her when she found a new form. Eventually her nerves released their tension in the form of one full-body shiver, and finally she picked up the piece of paper. Her steps carried her a short distance forward before ultimately yielding to the compelling pull that would bring her back to the tram. The Spire of Heaven? Why not... after all, she still needed that drink.

Setting : Commons Centre

Night of Round 2's fights.

Fierach Wrote:

"Are you familiar with the one whom team Agard is supposedly named in the memory of?"

-continued-

Jack made a slow, wide grin, nodding to Ashlynn along side him. "Come, it's entirely too loud in here for us to speak. And the two stepped out into the Ark Commons.

The two Scarlet Sun officers walked briskly, though made absolutely no attempt to lose Ory'hara. They wanted this confrontation. Once in the major center of the walking area, still empty the night of the matches, he spun on his heel, broadsword drawn with a loud clank. "SO. Another meta-human spunk stain here to make up for the corpse? Who are you, Ory'Hara?"

Ashlynn turned to join her commander, scowling. There was no sword, for her, but she did begin to strafe to the left some to make a clearance between the two of them. In the larger clearing, her body seemed to waver some, as if she was blurring somehow. "Commander, I suggest you run for now."

"That won't be necessary, Beryl. I can handle this punk on my own. I won't be needing your powers." He scowled, holding the blade aloft. "That said, you're welcome to join me, if you want to get some killing in."

The halls of the Commons were empty, but the roar of the crowd from the not-distant Big Kahuna, or even the Noah Dome., filled the area with a low hum. They were clear to fight in the open without any interruptions.

-Jack-

Jack could not help but grin. "Tough talk.This is your last chance to run." He turned, right hand side pointed toward Ory'hara, sword outstretched, left arm folded back and the backs of his knuckles against his lower back. He made no active movement toward his opponent. There was, as yet, no rush. After all, this was a recon mission first and foremost.

-Ashlynn-

As for the woman, she would shift with a scowl. She did not approve of Jack's rash behavior, but she'd do what was necessary regardless."Ark Commons." She muttered, looking around briefly before mimicking Jack's stance, her open palm with thumb folded in to replace he lack of a sword. She, unlike Jack, would begin to approach, still strafing to the left. Not for flanking so much. But Jack was insane, and apt to carve through his own men in a fight.

-Jack-

His grin quickly faded into a scowl. Jack had wanted to avoid a fight. Not because he was scared, but because he needed to keep an eye on certain key fighters, and if he killed Ory'hara here, the HoH Judges would have him removed. Even still, he would put this dog down, and continue on with events as needed.

His opponent made the first real move of the bout. A blast wave of fire scorching across between Ashlynn and himself. Jack would not attempt to slash at the wave, he'd seen too many pyromancers smarten up to such a tactic. Instead, he would dart forward, throwing himself over the wave in a forward roll, coming up near the Assassin. Popping to his feet, he turned his sword forward and would make a simple, pointed thrust to the enemy's chest.

-Ashlynn-

She'd made her move to tuck her body, rolling away from the wave. At this point, if Jack was twelve O clock from James, she was 4:30, and was officially flanking. Her biggest concern was keeping Jack alive long enough for some back up to show. He was tough, but for all she knew, this Ory'Hara guy was something else all together.

Right hand outstretching, thumb still neatly tucked in in front, she would thrust forward toward Eredas' ribs, a deep purple translucent blade springing from her fingertips, as if conjured from thin air. If James had eyes in the back of his head, he'd see the warble of light around her fade as the sword extended, only to strengthen again when it retracted.

-Jack-

His sword knocked out of the way, and a quick smack to the gut with the opponent's boot. it would have been easy enough to get out of the way against the kick, but Jack didn't bother dodging. The contact made a meaty thump, like trying to kick a rack of ribs up against a wall. He barely seemed to move, stepping back only a pace back before advancing once again.

He'd bring the sword back down over his head in a wide arc, aiming to cleave into James' arm. Pretty simple little move, really. No need to bother with flashy s**t.

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn, on the other hand, functioned on flashy s**t. As the ethereal blade clashed with the steel spear, it would dissipate, and she would take an accelerated step back to avoid being ripped asunder by Jack's swing. Taking a few steps back, he paused, nodding briefly. "Thank you, Vidunder." Her hands closed and opened again, producing a pair of hand blades. "Commander, the Osprey is off the ground."

-Elsewhere-

Six soldiers strapped in in full swat regalia, locking themselves into position aboard a V-22 Osprey, which quickly launched from an undisclosed location out in the eastern sea. Chief among them, Captain Anderson, who worked with Jack long before the formation of the Scarlet Sun. The air of legitimacy made the dirty work that much easier as they would hit the air. "Alright, men. No info has come in from the Commander or the General as to what they're up against. General Beryl didn't seem too upset, so we might be coming in on a simple pickup. All the same, we know full well there are more than a couple folks want the Big Man's head on a plaque. If that's the case, we go in guns drawn! Do not fire without an order, but have your arms ready!"

"SIR, YES, SIR!" the other five shouted, the pilot remaining silent as they tore through the night air.

-edit-

-account fail-

-Jack-

B'THOOM.

Okay, so maybe the fist didn't collide with the nose, but the fist did collide with his cheek, and his expression remained as unphased as the above image. Though, the expression was more of pathological murdurape more than cold indifference.

So.

Really.

The prior image was almost entirely inaccurate, aside from being generally unphased by the punch.

Jack retracted his blade, stepping back briefly, chuckling as he did so. "Ory'hara. Lemme ask you something." He sheathed his blade, crossing his arms. "I mean, you obviously think you're making the world a better place or blah-blah-blah." He shook his head once he reached three meters of distance before turning on his heel, watching the assassin closely.

"The man you come here to avenge was just another criminal that I put down. Why don't you put down your sword so that I don't have to sit your head next to his on my mantle." He spoke in a curt, albeit honest, tone.

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn stopped, the blades still drawn and ready. She didn't know if Ory'hara would rush after either of them, or if Jack was building to something. But she kept locked on the assassin.

[align=center]-Jack-

Jack chuckled. "Uh huh." The hulking older man looked entirely unimpressed. "Besides. You didn't let me finish. What is it you're trying to achieve? Do you have some greater goal? Or do you just going around patching up the holes of the losers you hang out leave once people like me vaporize them?"

Honestly, whether you're a hard core bad a**, or a paragon of justice, Jack does make a strong point. "Now, if you're just a killer who kills anyone who killed anyone he liked, well, then, that's fine. But you might be surprised to find that we're not quite the bad guys you think we are."

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn waited. She didn't like what Jack was trying to pull.

((Sorry for the brevity of the post. But Jack and James do actually share values, and I'd be interested to see how this chat played out.))[/quote]

-Jack-

"That's fair." He finally said with a shrug, readying his sword again. "It really is a shame to have to do this, then." He gripped his hand, leather whining against the rubbing between his hand and the grip on his sword, slowly stepping into position.

-Ashlynn-

"Commander, if you're going to kill him, just do it." She spoke sharply, the blades fading back into the warbling light that encircled her entire body. A pulse beat off of her, and she paused. "...Yes, Vidunder, I agree."

-Jack-

He scowled, looking to his cohort for a moment. "What does your ghost have to say?" He didn't believe Ashlynn really spoke to anyone, but the voice in her head occasionally made some strong points. All the while, he prepared his blade.

-Ashlynn-

She looked to the enemy, then to Jack. "He agrees with me that this man isn't worth the trouble, or the bullets." Her hands clenched, and the warble began to glow a dark purple. "Kill him. Or I will."

-Jack-

Jack scowled, between Ory'hara and Ashlynn both being disrespectful. He expected it from the assassin, unclean and uncouth dog that he is. Ashlynn? Manners, woman. Brandishing his sword, he turned to the assassin, raising his blade in a defensive stance. The spear had a number of advantages, and while Jack realized full well he was out and out physically stronger, the longer range, brought some concern.

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn stood now, arms crossed, focusing hard on Ory'hara, and on something she didn't speak on. The warble of green and purple lights around her intensified, seeming even to draw light from surrounding sources. The pulse that fell from her body, should anyone in the area be particularly sensitive to magic, would be especially uncomfortable, practically vomit inducing.

It felt like that feeling when you realize something is about to go horribly wrong, and it makes your stomach knot up, and your throat dry. But that same feeling, magnified to an absurd degree, and the sensations of pain shuddering through every organ. Those who were perfectly mundane wouldn't notice, other than the visual illusions like the lights being dragged toward her. But otherwise, it was all the same.

-Jack-

Son of a b***h.

Now, Jack was not a fan of woo woo spell casters. And he'd put more than a couple in the dirt. Burning projectiles had become such a cliche with that type of fighter, Jack did not pause to consider what it was, merely dashing forward. But rather than slashing it or trying to slap it to the side, he would vault over it, nothing sort of a Dragoon Jump to land opposite it. The volatile spear landing behind him was no longer his concern as he drew out. His blade turned forward, jabbing toward the assassin's spine.

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn kept her calm as the light drew into her. She wasn't quite ready yet. Or rather, he wasn't quite ready yet. Her features began to blur in the warble, her eyes shifting from green to a dull purple. With a quiet hum, she smiled.

Come at me, Daemonslayer! Your line has nearly died, and you will join them!

One of the black ethereal blades manifested, and her left hand would extend, beckoning his charge.

-Jack-

Jack stopped, crossing his arm over his face. Monstrous warrior or not, Dragon's Fire was nothing to laugh at, and the fact that Ashlynn was being bathed in it was seriously no laughing matter. "ASHLYNN!!!" He roared, watching as the enemy soared across and the flames devoured the space between them. As the fire began to wane, Jack's eyes widened once again as the light began to fold inward once again. "...Th-...The hell!?"

-Ashlynn-

The flames engulfed her, her eyes following James the entire time, the dull purple piercing the burning technique all the way along the arch. As the breath attack concluded, she turned, her gaze never breaking. She did not scowl, she did not cringe. As the last of the flames died, it was obvious that they, too, were being drawn into her body, and the warp of the lights flowing into her were turning into a black hole.

The ground beneath her melted in the path of the attack. The air around her was dry and scorched. Ambient dust had been destroyed. And were it not for the blackness surrounding her, there was a good chance she would have been, as well. She began to walk, now, hands clenched. The blade faded, apparently having only been there to engage in short range battle.

Behind her, the warbling image of a tall man in a fine, intricate armor of Drow make walked in pace with her, fading in and out of existence at different angles from her. In time, the two spoke together. "Now is your final chance, Eredas. Run, lest you be part of the fuel I will use to burn this world." The voice had the woman's original cool indifference, but it was matched with the dark, calculated voice of... whoever that man was.

The feeling from the pulse was now constant. It wasn't that it was specifically anti-magic. It was simply so much of the otherworldly power, that anyone sensitive to arcana would feel the queasiness, like overeating straight corn syrup. Not the most elegant description, but the only apt comparison.

-To the Reader-

Jack is still in the dark as to Ory'hara's identity. He overheard Eredas, but given his vantage, he has chalked it up to mishearing it from the other ethereal warpish noises. Ashlynn was informed as to his true identity by the entity, who has a method of knowing that is, as yet, not revealed. Suffice it to say, the spirit she talks to knows plenty about James.

-Jack-

Jack stared in disbelief for a moment. For the longest time, he simply thought his subordinate was a nut. But it seemed that James had incited her to toss aside her cover. But hell, as long as she continued his objectives, he'd take it.

All the same, James was preparing some new method of woo woo bullshit that looked like some sort of sealing ritual. Jack would not take the time to watch how it proceeded. Couldn't afford to. Ashlynn was his very best soldier. And now he knew why. Dashing forward, he would wordlessly cross the plain between Ashlynn and himself before pulling another vault into the air.

His sword was drawn, And his form was that of a hulking warrior, coming down from the sky to rend James in two.

-Ashlynn-

Ashlynn's eyes would close briefly, shaking her head. She really didn't want to kill James. The entite, the ash colored man with the wild black hair, the obsidian and darksteel armor, he looked excited. Because he realized full well that either James or the Soldiers would die here. And for him, that was all fine. Stepping forward, his foot hit pavement, and the both of them sunk into oblivion.

As Jack flew overhead, Ashlynn and the Entite would step from the shadows to James' rear. Extending a palm, her's appearing relaxed, his fixed into a rigid claw, darkness would erupt from their palms, streaking outward. Like the corruption pouring from the corpse of a Colossi, the streaks of shadowy discoloration went wide before rushing toward James from multiple directions. Were he to rush directly toward the Caster and the Entite, there would be no escape. 'Course, going the other way would meet Jack head on.

-To the Reader-

This is a bad plan. You will fail.

-Jack-

Jack would land with a thunderous crash, the concrete below him rending in a remarkably clean cut. But where James assumed the warrior would follow through with his sword rending upward, he instead opted to drop his blade, twisting around the uppercut, the flames licking at his clothes and face. His right hand curled into a tight fist, and his arm extended like a bullet.

Griff and James had sparred, but not since Griff had the Automated Power Arm installed. But he had seen what it could do. The lab boys back in the B9 showed Griff the arm with James present. The ability to place well over two thousand pounds of pressure into the surface of the front of a punch.

This put Griff to shame. And in an instant, hit or miss, James would know how Jack beat Griff. The vacuum in the wake of the punch snuffed the flame entirely. It's speed and force was remarkable, creating a funnel of sound, a sonic pop, enough to make the ears reel. If James didn't feel it, he'd hear it for damn sure.

Jack pulled back, leaving the sword be. He didn't need it for this beast. He'd be better off hand to hand.

-Ashlynn-

Vidunder grinned as Ashlynn frowned. They seemed to be at odds over the situation, but she followed suite. Were she honest, whenever Vidunder channeled her body, she felt his mind wash over her, and she hated it. Though she was sympathetic to his cause, and wanted nothing more than for him to be fully released. If for no other reason than for him to stop using her body like this.

The tendrils retracted, and they curled their fists, standing tall again. The two opted to hang back for a moment. Less because they couldn't see what was going on, but out of honesty, what they do would be highly contingent on whether Jack hit and turned James into a puddle, or if he continued to flip about. And the author is not a mind reader.

-Jack-

When he felt the hand grab his cuff, he knew something bad was about to happen. In a hurry, he snapped his arms forward, grabbing James' [UPPER BODY GARMENT] and gripped to an absurd hold. His eye narrowed tightly as the blows came.

Each blast came to him, and oh yeah, they ******** hurt. More than a couple times did his uniform catch and snuff with the next concussive smash. His body took the blows better than his clothes did, each smack hitting his body hard, but never indomitably. He clenched his teeth, taking each blast. Digging his feet into the ground as the last smash tried to set him flying, Jack scowled harder, his eye popping open at last.

Rage.

The rage that played across his chocolaty eye was burning. It was more telling in an instant than a novella could be. Both hands still holding his enemy's [UPPER BODY GARMENT], his upper body reeled back before shooting forward. His forehead came crashing down like a cudgel, poised to break every part of James' pretty face.

-Ashlynn-

As the burning fists poured across Jack's body, Ashlynn and Vidunder thought together the next course of action, stepping back through the shadows they had stepped through only a moment prior. In the flashes of James' attack and the burning of the air and Jack's body, a shadow stretched. And in the instant between the third and fourth exploding punch, A blade erupting from the pair's extended fingertips, surrounded by the tendrils of corruption and decay. The blade was poised for a picture perfect strike to the low spine, streaking up the back.

-Ashlynn-

Seeing Eredas' reaction, the woman forced Vidunder to dematerialize the sword, the two catching the captain and slipping back through the last of the lingering explosion's shadow, spitting both of them out some four meters from James. Thirteen feet, give or take, was all that separated the Slayer from the Tank and the Caster.

Vidunder scowled, caring not for Jack's health. "Can't help but wonder" Only the one voice spoke. Only Vidunder's. "if you fear death more than you let on. Perhaps the prospect of facing all those your family have sent to hell behind them scares you more than you'll admit." He stepped forward, and Ashlynn followed his command. Hands curled into fists, he scowled. "Ashlynn, you'll have to carry on the fight. If the Slayer manages to seal me, our plans could be foiled."

With that, his figure disappeared, but the warble of glowing mist reappeared around her. She might not have been as strong as Jack, but she was far more agile. And she looked determined. Relieved to have the Entite no longer coursing through her muscles, she looked up with a sharpened glare. She was ready for James' best. If he was winded, he would die.

-Jack-

Jack let out a cough as his body slammed into the concrete. The God Dust technique was a hell of a blow, but his body could take it. What he was less thrilled about was the prospect of being dragged through the shadow realm so that Ashlynn could prevent killing him. Though thankful for his life, he despised being saved by magic.

Standing, dust and soot fell from his body. His scarf and shoulder cape were destroyed, and there was a light burn around the sides of his face from where the uppercut tried to scorch his flesh. But he was, all in all, quite alive.

"Shut up." He spat, more to the entite than anyone. "Eredas?" He finally asked, as if he was only now paying attention to anything other than the fight. "James Eredas? Griff's old B9 buddy. You're the one that gave him that arm." He reached up, tearing the roasted upper garments from his chest. "Got to admit, I wasn't expecting him to have a punch like that the first time. But it didn't work the second time."

He, too, began to approach. That crazed cool appeared in his eyes again, an ice settled over the rage. This went back to what it was before. Wasn't personal. Just business.

The two did not approach from a wide arc. With 35 degrees of separation. They kept pace.

-SS Rescue Team-

"Approaching the Ark." the pilot shouted. "ETA, three minutes."

"Alright, boys. Get those guns prepped. We approach for the Commons, it's a shopping center, but they're still fighting in the second round, so the area should be clear for a while longer yet. Do not fire unless we're given the order. No word from command team."

-Ashlynn-

"Drow?" She muttered to herself, wondering if James' pains were making him delirious. They hadn't done any damage to him, him being a capable fighter all in his own respect. But then the image of Vidunder's armor appeared in her head. Drow make over his body that had long passed from the issues of race or species.

Still, she shook her head as his stance changed dramatically. Watching the aura around him changing was like going from gut busting heavy metal to the calm precision of a solo instrumentalist, playing their chosen weapon with all the grace and skill of a surgeon.

Hell of a mixed metaphor, but it worked.

She continued to advance, though began to trail behind Jack some. Though she remained unscathed, her commander was stronger than her on her own, even after standing through an attack like the God Dust move. Still, however, she kept close and alert.

-Jack-

Jack on the other hand advanced with fervor. It was fairly apparent that the beast of a man was not afraid of Eredas, and if, in fact, God Dust was the creme of Eredas' crop, the slayer would join Griff in losing a rough 7 head's length and sitting for the rest of time on a mantle.

Entering into threat range, he kept his wits about him, arms at the ready in front of his face, swinging into James' torso range with a hard left hook. It wasn't as strong as his forward punch, but even here, the force was noticeable. On a lesser man, this could powder a jawbone.

-SSRT-

ETA

2:45

-Jack-

A hard scowl scrunched into a painful roar, but James'd notice something was particularly wrong. The wrist wasn't gone. Oh, there was a nasty crunching sound that almost certainly meant a fracture. The heat of the attack roasted the sleeve, only to reveal a second sleeve beneath it. No telling what it was without examination, but something about the second sleeve's material had prevented the cleaving of Jack's arm. Now, granted, a second blow might turn it into a boneless tube of meat, but it was hard to say.

More unfortunately was that Jack was not the kind to let pain dissuade him from pressing on aggressively. Gritting his teeth through the pain, his left reached out and snatched up as much fabric as possible, his right fist appearing like a freight train. Jackson's rage, and the sheer force and muscle behind the warrior's blows, all the steam and steel behind it, James wouldn\'t slow it down at all...

Oh god.

Oh...

God.

Here comes the arm.

It was straight forward, and given Jackson being a bit taller than James, it was poised to powder his lower jaw, if not slam it straight into the slayer's neck.

-Ashylnn-

Emil-er-Ashlynn armed herself. She knew it couldn't be long before evac arrived, but James was getting his claws into Jack, and she couldn't allow it. Rushing now, she rounded James, and when the arm came pressing for the slayer's throat, her own hand, augmented by the dark warble to be an evil, mirror mirror version of his own move. It was inelegant, as was much of this fight, but it was also in a hurry. A slashing for the side, clear of Jack, the two positioned at 12 and 5.

-FIGHT ENDING-

Blood sprayed from Jack's nose. Strong as hell, able to take a ******** rocket to the chest, but no one on earth has a nose with more than 1hp. As such, the spray splattered the ground just as a loud chopping noise sounded off overhead. Jack and Ashlynn would back off as soon as the Osprey appeared. As soon as it did, a short ratcheting noise showered as six sets of fully automatic guns pointed at James.

He was good, but not THAT good. Especially not winded.

"Well." Ashlynn announced, grabbing Jack by the collar. "Looks like we've got to be going." A rope ladder lowered as the seventh man held it out the window. "I'm sure we'll be meeting again. C'mon, Commander." Jack scowled, snagging the rope as they began to catch air again.

Breep breep. James' phone had apparently gone off at some point during the fight. Just a simple text from one of his techs at the B9. "Call Griff's RnD."

Even winded, James possessed a massive reserve, and was stoic about it. People like him always found a way to push on. The slayer hardly batted an eye as the pair retreated under the cover of their soldiers.

"I'm sure"

They were leaving with this sort of advantage? Really? They would regret that.

"Retreat then. Your world will burn in time." James promised the soldiers as they turned tail.

And to make sure they got the message, James slid off his half-mask, and flung it with an extreme amount of power and impossible accuracy, the metal object embedding itself into the hull of the Osprey next to the entrance as Jackson climbed through it.