Introduction
New Exodia is a modern day powerhouse of science and industry comprised of two smaller city-states. East and West. Nifl and Muspell. The two are divided down the middle by a wall, and to those with the hidden ability to recognize it, a powerful field that nullifies magic and supernatural abilities. In the center of the city sits Vanir Tower, evenly divided between east and west, the place through which all the money and power in the city flows.
In Nifl, high technology reigns. Money passes through hands before you can even leave fingerprints on it. If you want to work your way up, you wine and dine; create a corporation; trod on the poor and anyone in your way.
In Muspell things are dirtier. The streets are darker, and far less kind. Manual labor, the harvesting of minerals, and the power of the fist rule here. You want to be in charge? All you gotta do is kill the other gang leaders standing in your way.
Despite the differences between the two halves of the city, they have one thing in common: Everyone is human. You got that? We live normal lives, work normal jobs, survive paycheck to paycheck. Discussing anything beyond it is taboo and certain to land you in a holding cell under Vanir Tower.
Underneath the facade, there are those of us who have been hiding. Pretending to be something we're not. Some of us want to blend in. But some of us are tired of being second-class citizens. We have the power to take what's rightfully ours. The power to unite this city under one rule.
So here you stand. You're a/n ________________________.
Demon / Angel / Celestial
Sorcerer / Wizard / Warlock / Witch
Psionicist / Vampire / Werewolf
Feel free to create whatever race/power combination you want, doesn't have to be any of these suggestions or can be multiple ones combined, as long as your character at least appears to be human. The technology and setting is modern, urban fantasy. No specific rules on stats, etc., I'm leaving it pretty open. War hasn't come to New Exodia yet, but it's on the horizon... what part will you play?
In Nifl, high technology reigns. Money passes through hands before you can even leave fingerprints on it. If you want to work your way up, you wine and dine; create a corporation; trod on the poor and anyone in your way.
In Muspell things are dirtier. The streets are darker, and far less kind. Manual labor, the harvesting of minerals, and the power of the fist rule here. You want to be in charge? All you gotta do is kill the other gang leaders standing in your way.
Despite the differences between the two halves of the city, they have one thing in common: Everyone is human. You got that? We live normal lives, work normal jobs, survive paycheck to paycheck. Discussing anything beyond it is taboo and certain to land you in a holding cell under Vanir Tower.
Underneath the facade, there are those of us who have been hiding. Pretending to be something we're not. Some of us want to blend in. But some of us are tired of being second-class citizens. We have the power to take what's rightfully ours. The power to unite this city under one rule.
So here you stand. You're a/n ________________________.
Demon / Angel / Celestial
Sorcerer / Wizard / Warlock / Witch
Psionicist / Vampire / Werewolf
Feel free to create whatever race/power combination you want, doesn't have to be any of these suggestions or can be multiple ones combined, as long as your character at least appears to be human. The technology and setting is modern, urban fantasy. No specific rules on stats, etc., I'm leaving it pretty open. War hasn't come to New Exodia yet, but it's on the horizon... what part will you play?
- 24 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 5 authors
The solid thump of flesh beneath Adara's fist was almost as satisfying as the flick of the lighter in her other hand. With a tendril of thought the flame jumped to the security guard now gasping for breath. It latched onto his shirt sleeve and tore up his arm in a blink.
That should keep him busy awhile. Adara planted a kicked in the man's gut for good measure and darted down the hall. Time was short. She needed to get in and out of the building before security caught up with her. Well, before more than one of them did.
Xion Corp's building crawled with guards. She'd dropped three of them already, and there were bound to be more further inside the building. The server room lay a few hundred feet up ahead. A left, then a right, the third door on the left.
She'd probably been caught on security cameras by now, but she didn't mind if the company's fat execs saw her. A poor young woman from the streets of Muspell would never be recognized, especially in Nifl. She'd lay low for a few days, keep from attracting attention, then she'd be off, and much richer for her trouble. If you make it back. Eyes on the prize, Vitalos.
She made it to the room unhindered. The air temperature dropped about ten degrees when she entered. The hum of electronics was almost soothing, but nerves caught up with her. First big job. Pays more than the last two fights combined. Can't afford to fuck this one up.
She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and began to scan equipment, searching for a particular serial number. Her employer wanted this bad; the Champion of Muspell's consulting fee was quite high, especially for a simple snag and grab.
There. The number matched the sticker on the side of a hard drive. Adara yanked it out and stuffed it in her pocket before ducking back out the door. Her watch read 0:36. She'd been in the building for too long. Time to make a quick exit.
Adara sprinted back down the hall, past the man laying limp on the floor, his sleeve peeled and blackened. She still held the lighter in one hand, and her fingers itched to use it. Her mind longed for the flame once again. Just once more. She longed for someone else to spot her. Someone she could plant a fist into; someone she could burn.
She got her wish a few minutes later when a young man came tearing around the corner not far from the exit. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the security guards she'd encountered, and she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.
"Stop!" the boy shouted.
Adara couldn't help it; she laughed. But then the young guard was upon her, unleashing a flurry of blows she could barely keep up with. He may be young, with a voice hardly matured into adulthood, but the boy could fight. A few punches got through; she thought maybe a rib was broken. She fought back fruitlessly, her punches blocked by muscled forearms, her kicks deflected.
So Adara got angry. She took a few steps back and flicked her lighter. The fire burst forth, its essence whispering to her mind. Calling her. She answered. The flame grew, feeding off the oxygen of the air around her, until it engulfed her fist. With no regard for fighting form or tactics she charged.
The boy was caught off guard. She tumbled into him and grabbed his lapel with her flaming hand. The fire was eager for something new to consume. She let it and it jumped to his jacket. He screamed, terrified by the sight even before the flames began to lick at his flesh.
Adara vaulted into a backflip. The flames called to her still, but she looked at her watch. 0:45. Too long. With a last, longing look back she headed for the doors, the hard drive still safe in her vest pocket.
She had successfully infiltrated Xion Corp, one of the most powerful companies in Nifl. Yep, feelin' pretty damn good about that. And lucky, too. The young woman disappeared into the night, toward the refuge of the slums of Muspell.
That should keep him busy awhile. Adara planted a kicked in the man's gut for good measure and darted down the hall. Time was short. She needed to get in and out of the building before security caught up with her. Well, before more than one of them did.
Xion Corp's building crawled with guards. She'd dropped three of them already, and there were bound to be more further inside the building. The server room lay a few hundred feet up ahead. A left, then a right, the third door on the left.
She'd probably been caught on security cameras by now, but she didn't mind if the company's fat execs saw her. A poor young woman from the streets of Muspell would never be recognized, especially in Nifl. She'd lay low for a few days, keep from attracting attention, then she'd be off, and much richer for her trouble. If you make it back. Eyes on the prize, Vitalos.
She made it to the room unhindered. The air temperature dropped about ten degrees when she entered. The hum of electronics was almost soothing, but nerves caught up with her. First big job. Pays more than the last two fights combined. Can't afford to fuck this one up.
She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and began to scan equipment, searching for a particular serial number. Her employer wanted this bad; the Champion of Muspell's consulting fee was quite high, especially for a simple snag and grab.
There. The number matched the sticker on the side of a hard drive. Adara yanked it out and stuffed it in her pocket before ducking back out the door. Her watch read 0:36. She'd been in the building for too long. Time to make a quick exit.
Adara sprinted back down the hall, past the man laying limp on the floor, his sleeve peeled and blackened. She still held the lighter in one hand, and her fingers itched to use it. Her mind longed for the flame once again. Just once more. She longed for someone else to spot her. Someone she could plant a fist into; someone she could burn.
She got her wish a few minutes later when a young man came tearing around the corner not far from the exit. He wore the same uniform as the rest of the security guards she'd encountered, and she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.
"Stop!" the boy shouted.
Adara couldn't help it; she laughed. But then the young guard was upon her, unleashing a flurry of blows she could barely keep up with. He may be young, with a voice hardly matured into adulthood, but the boy could fight. A few punches got through; she thought maybe a rib was broken. She fought back fruitlessly, her punches blocked by muscled forearms, her kicks deflected.
So Adara got angry. She took a few steps back and flicked her lighter. The fire burst forth, its essence whispering to her mind. Calling her. She answered. The flame grew, feeding off the oxygen of the air around her, until it engulfed her fist. With no regard for fighting form or tactics she charged.
The boy was caught off guard. She tumbled into him and grabbed his lapel with her flaming hand. The fire was eager for something new to consume. She let it and it jumped to his jacket. He screamed, terrified by the sight even before the flames began to lick at his flesh.
Adara vaulted into a backflip. The flames called to her still, but she looked at her watch. 0:45. Too long. With a last, longing look back she headed for the doors, the hard drive still safe in her vest pocket.
She had successfully infiltrated Xion Corp, one of the most powerful companies in Nifl. Yep, feelin' pretty damn good about that. And lucky, too. The young woman disappeared into the night, toward the refuge of the slums of Muspell.
The setting changes from New Exodia to Muspell
The surface of Muspell was a tangible wasteland of smog and industry, pumping out an incredible amount of waste without even so much as a concern or thought. Thanks to Xion Corp on the Nifl side though, a lot of the smoke stacks and airborne waste had capping filters on them, which were antimicrobial and excellent at sifting out the wastes and expelling only clean, breathable oxygen on the other side. This kept the two cities working in decent unison. Resources went to Nifl. Technology went to Muspell. It was a coexistence that couldn't be one without the other. Plain and simple. Vanir stood between the two as something of a mediator, but ended up just being the rich fucks between the cracks, taking money that wasn't theirs for greedy, useless pleasures.
Those who were rich also had a sizable investment in something that wasn't even known about in common conversations, or if it was, it was absolutely hushed. It was never seen on the streets, but underground in bunkers, in large, unused subway stations, and other various underground arena-type places. Finals were said to be under Vanir tower, but only the final fighters and a select few ever made it that far and only a hundred thousand dollar buy in allowed the less fortunate to arrive unwanted...
These investments were known as the Fights. No rules. Most often to the death. Grudge matches. But what ended up being unique about a place like this was the ... talent ... that arose from the regular patrons. When the fights first started, it was thought to have been only human versus human. Then again, if humans were stupid enough to think that they were the only species on the planet, then they deserved the devastating beat-down's that came in the Fights when they found out that they were not. All sorts of abilities surfaced during the fights. People hiding their identities and others not even caring -- regardless, they were all competing for money and fame, which brought scoundrels to the surface as well...
The reigning champion was backed by someone inside Vanir Tower. He was literally branded on his chest with a V, as property of, but in turn -- could have had anything he wanted. A titan of a man known as Onyx. Not much was known about him, other than his fighting skills were incredible and his punch was lethal. It was rumors that he fought so brutally, that he hadn't been challenged in years, thus remaining the reigning champion. It was also rumored that he fought some altered version of Muay Thai, but even that was just talk.
The thing about the Fights was -- a lot of people revered them as being Sacred. If you weren't there, it was somewhat like church -- people wouldn't let you in on what you missed. You just had to be there for yourself. The prize fights that Onyx had been in were so expensive to get into, you could have counted the number of people watching the brawl on one hand and in the end, you were only told who won. Not how. No explanation. Just that Onyx had defeated another person.
----- ----- -----
The alleyway was dark. Garbage lined the walls and cans were heaped full -- a typical setting in Muspell that held a daring secret. The gate creaked at the end and I walked quietly down the dark pathway until I heard the low growling of a few abnormally large pitbulls standing next to an abnormally large man. He looked down over his barreled chest at me and I peered up from beneath the chocolate hoodie and nodded to him. He cocked a brow. I held out a Benjamin and he accepted it with a nod and then held out a scanner. The green light illuminated my thumb and it flashed once and beeped. He examined it and then opened the door. I was slowly becoming a regular, but these beastly door bitches never let anyone slide. Never.
Down the narrow stairs, I could hear the roar beyond me. The light at the end of the tunnel was a faded crimson hue and when I entered, it was a rave. Lights flashed all away from the fighting arenas, and the crowds roared. Three separate areas where fights were going on inside of this abandoned parking garage. The lines on the ground were all but faded away now of a time when they used to be used more by cars instead of feet. A DJ was spinning something that resembled some wild electronica dubstep in the middle of the room, surrounded by dancing people and wide rings of people, like bubbles that surrounded other fighters.
Beyond this which was happening clean in the middle, shops were on one side for drugs and beverages of all assortments and then fighters were all on the left, with something of a lounge set up for them to relax with bouncers standing guard. This is where I moved toward. I weaved and bobbed through the insane patrons with little effort and stood before the bouncer who looked down at me. I swore these fucks were all clones of Andre the Giant. He stared over a thick beard and glared through dark shades. "What."
"I'm here for my fight tonight."
"Your tiny ass?"
"Faster than your lard ass. Shut up and move."
"Fuck you, fairy. You aint fightin' ..." But before he could finish the word, I wasn't in front of him. He took a step forward and lifted his glasses to look around for me. It wheezed and waved a hand at the soft plume of ash and sulfur that whisked about his face and turned around slowly to see me already walking into the lounge. He snorted. Lowered his glasses. And looked big and mean, turning back around to his post without so much as a word spoken.
Those who were rich also had a sizable investment in something that wasn't even known about in common conversations, or if it was, it was absolutely hushed. It was never seen on the streets, but underground in bunkers, in large, unused subway stations, and other various underground arena-type places. Finals were said to be under Vanir tower, but only the final fighters and a select few ever made it that far and only a hundred thousand dollar buy in allowed the less fortunate to arrive unwanted...
These investments were known as the Fights. No rules. Most often to the death. Grudge matches. But what ended up being unique about a place like this was the ... talent ... that arose from the regular patrons. When the fights first started, it was thought to have been only human versus human. Then again, if humans were stupid enough to think that they were the only species on the planet, then they deserved the devastating beat-down's that came in the Fights when they found out that they were not. All sorts of abilities surfaced during the fights. People hiding their identities and others not even caring -- regardless, they were all competing for money and fame, which brought scoundrels to the surface as well...
The reigning champion was backed by someone inside Vanir Tower. He was literally branded on his chest with a V, as property of, but in turn -- could have had anything he wanted. A titan of a man known as Onyx. Not much was known about him, other than his fighting skills were incredible and his punch was lethal. It was rumors that he fought so brutally, that he hadn't been challenged in years, thus remaining the reigning champion. It was also rumored that he fought some altered version of Muay Thai, but even that was just talk.
The thing about the Fights was -- a lot of people revered them as being Sacred. If you weren't there, it was somewhat like church -- people wouldn't let you in on what you missed. You just had to be there for yourself. The prize fights that Onyx had been in were so expensive to get into, you could have counted the number of people watching the brawl on one hand and in the end, you were only told who won. Not how. No explanation. Just that Onyx had defeated another person.
----- ----- -----
The alleyway was dark. Garbage lined the walls and cans were heaped full -- a typical setting in Muspell that held a daring secret. The gate creaked at the end and I walked quietly down the dark pathway until I heard the low growling of a few abnormally large pitbulls standing next to an abnormally large man. He looked down over his barreled chest at me and I peered up from beneath the chocolate hoodie and nodded to him. He cocked a brow. I held out a Benjamin and he accepted it with a nod and then held out a scanner. The green light illuminated my thumb and it flashed once and beeped. He examined it and then opened the door. I was slowly becoming a regular, but these beastly door bitches never let anyone slide. Never.
Down the narrow stairs, I could hear the roar beyond me. The light at the end of the tunnel was a faded crimson hue and when I entered, it was a rave. Lights flashed all away from the fighting arenas, and the crowds roared. Three separate areas where fights were going on inside of this abandoned parking garage. The lines on the ground were all but faded away now of a time when they used to be used more by cars instead of feet. A DJ was spinning something that resembled some wild electronica dubstep in the middle of the room, surrounded by dancing people and wide rings of people, like bubbles that surrounded other fighters.
Beyond this which was happening clean in the middle, shops were on one side for drugs and beverages of all assortments and then fighters were all on the left, with something of a lounge set up for them to relax with bouncers standing guard. This is where I moved toward. I weaved and bobbed through the insane patrons with little effort and stood before the bouncer who looked down at me. I swore these fucks were all clones of Andre the Giant. He stared over a thick beard and glared through dark shades. "What."
"I'm here for my fight tonight."
"Your tiny ass?"
"Faster than your lard ass. Shut up and move."
"Fuck you, fairy. You aint fightin' ..." But before he could finish the word, I wasn't in front of him. He took a step forward and lifted his glasses to look around for me. It wheezed and waved a hand at the soft plume of ash and sulfur that whisked about his face and turned around slowly to see me already walking into the lounge. He snorted. Lowered his glasses. And looked big and mean, turning back around to his post without so much as a word spoken.
Ahh, the Fights.
They could make a man or break a man of more than just his worldly possessions, but also his life, family, and anything else he held dear should he step into the ring against a true villain with a penchant for blood, gore, and untimely death. I'd seen men be hauled away for placing bets larger than what they could afford and ended up paying with limbs. Namely fingers, toes, and ears -- for the especially whacked out bids.
The Fights -- a place where men could be gods in the eyes of many. You step into the ring. Money is bet and you even get to see a counter of how much is pitted on you outside the present ring. Though this rarely includes the millions bet from the big-wigs watching from VIP sections or by camera, but the rise of the dough on the other side aids and fuels your anxiety and combative skills when you realize people think you're the underdog...
It wasn't soon after I'd walked in that I saw a few people I knew. Hammer was being carried out on a stretcher, alive still, but barely and being that a lot of the players to this wild and crazy party were Vanir exclusives, they often had private medics on stand-by for most fighters. Specifically their own players, but deals were even made here as fighters would get repaired on someone else's dime and then be forced to throw fights or demanded to win them with the wave of a hand. Some fighters that got caught up in this mess ended up being thrashed in the end from a corrupt employer and not even a fight...
A loud speaker blared two names: "Illusion Versus Payn!"
I knew Payn. A monster of a man. A neanderthal with a cromagnum forehead and eyebrows that could have lifted cars by their bumpers if he'd have stooped to hook them up. I'd only seen him fight once before, but he wore a cross-bandoleer of leather with spikes coming out of it and a full head mask that I imagined to hide a perfectly squared chin and gorgeous, flawless features. Modesty -- my kind of man.
He was already in the arena when I arrived, pumping up the crowd. An announcer stood in the middle and grinned maliciously, "TREMENDOUS PAYN! He's a whopping seven foot, two inches and some say -- as solid as steel. A bone crushing Juggernaut born right here in Muspell!"
"He's AGAINST! ... Well, He's against someone named the Illusion? What is this shit? Where's this punk at?" The crowd laughed. This drove the prices up. Did I mention that I'd only been in one fight before this, and it wasn't exactly sanctioned, this one was. I stepped beyond the laughing mob and into the arena and the Boo's seemed to resound in my ears with an intense ringing as the man shook his head and looked at his cards again with less belief than before.
"Tell me kid -- how much to you weigh? You look about five foot, nine -- give or take."
"Hm. A buck twenty, straight out of the shower..." I grinned from beneath an olive-hoodie, which concealed my features, save for the brown-green hair that broke the dark pool. A green hoodie with a black jacket over that and corduroy pants that were darker than your typically khaki. I looked like a Berkley student fresh off the bus to college, and now stood in an arena to fight a mammoth who wanted to rip my head off and drink the blood from my spouting neck like some fucking chalice.
The man scoffed and covered the microphone, leaning in towards me with a serious face, "You sure about this kid? He wont stop until you're dead..." I took a moment and the crowd grew still. The could sense fear like a bloodhound sensed blood. They watched in anticipation as my head lifted toward the Bet Counter and cocked a brow with a sigh of disappointment.
Illusion [ $50 ]
Payn [ $28,500 ]
I turned my face back to the man and then spanned the crowd slowly with a thin, hidden grin and spoke, "Thanks to whoever bet fifty bucks on me. You're about to be fuckin' wealthy beyond your wildest dreams..." The crowd roared with laughter and cheers -- mainly that I was going to stick it out and they'd see my blood all over the pavement, but truthfully because this was a massive Payn following. I was going into this fight knowing that I might die, or I might have to kill someone, but I wasn't sure how the mercy-look would work in a place like this, if I wanted to have fun. But that reminded me -- I was just here to have fun.
Besides -- these Odds were Astronomical. Easier money than the IRS and taxes!
The announcer waved his hand and backed up out of the arena and the cheering crew hushed, but excited chatter and whooping for their player -- namely Payn -- ensued with ideas of what to do to me first. I decided to feel the man out and see what his weaknesses might be first, allowing him the initial attack, which he rushed into blindly. An attempted bear-hug into a spiked chest garment wasn't my way of going out, especially in the first round and I had rucked and sidestepped to the right, beneath his gripping arms which sent him lunging at the crowd who OOOoo'd in fear and anticipation.
By the time he'd regained his footing, I was already standing there looking at him. I lifted a hand to yawn and his anger boiled from his neck up, causing his head to fume nearly and glow a faint red tint. His fists were white-knuckled with fury and he stepped and began swinging wide hay-makers. I leaned to the left and right, keeping my balance, but without my key element exposed, my range of bending backwards was severely hampered. I reached behind my back, unzipping a rear fly while avoiding another onslaught of swinging and out popped a slender tail with a tuft at the end in a shade of chocolate being darker than my average skin tone. A hushed gasp crossed the crowds.
"Hold still, you little fuck!" He snarled.
Payn didn't seem to notice or care, barreling at me with my new-found agility. I saw my moment and in one of his fist-cocked motions, my tail snapped between my legs and grappled him about his right knee, and pulled, buckling his stance and he collapsed to the ground in an angered groan of pain, as his planted foot was reeled in toward his body. It looked painful from my position and I stepped up, avoiding a kick and then backed up. The crowd sudden became worried at the money they'd spent on Payn, only to realize that I was just toying with him...
They could make a man or break a man of more than just his worldly possessions, but also his life, family, and anything else he held dear should he step into the ring against a true villain with a penchant for blood, gore, and untimely death. I'd seen men be hauled away for placing bets larger than what they could afford and ended up paying with limbs. Namely fingers, toes, and ears -- for the especially whacked out bids.
The Fights -- a place where men could be gods in the eyes of many. You step into the ring. Money is bet and you even get to see a counter of how much is pitted on you outside the present ring. Though this rarely includes the millions bet from the big-wigs watching from VIP sections or by camera, but the rise of the dough on the other side aids and fuels your anxiety and combative skills when you realize people think you're the underdog...
It wasn't soon after I'd walked in that I saw a few people I knew. Hammer was being carried out on a stretcher, alive still, but barely and being that a lot of the players to this wild and crazy party were Vanir exclusives, they often had private medics on stand-by for most fighters. Specifically their own players, but deals were even made here as fighters would get repaired on someone else's dime and then be forced to throw fights or demanded to win them with the wave of a hand. Some fighters that got caught up in this mess ended up being thrashed in the end from a corrupt employer and not even a fight...
A loud speaker blared two names: "Illusion Versus Payn!"
I knew Payn. A monster of a man. A neanderthal with a cromagnum forehead and eyebrows that could have lifted cars by their bumpers if he'd have stooped to hook them up. I'd only seen him fight once before, but he wore a cross-bandoleer of leather with spikes coming out of it and a full head mask that I imagined to hide a perfectly squared chin and gorgeous, flawless features. Modesty -- my kind of man.
He was already in the arena when I arrived, pumping up the crowd. An announcer stood in the middle and grinned maliciously, "TREMENDOUS PAYN! He's a whopping seven foot, two inches and some say -- as solid as steel. A bone crushing Juggernaut born right here in Muspell!"
"He's AGAINST! ... Well, He's against someone named the Illusion? What is this shit? Where's this punk at?" The crowd laughed. This drove the prices up. Did I mention that I'd only been in one fight before this, and it wasn't exactly sanctioned, this one was. I stepped beyond the laughing mob and into the arena and the Boo's seemed to resound in my ears with an intense ringing as the man shook his head and looked at his cards again with less belief than before.
"Tell me kid -- how much to you weigh? You look about five foot, nine -- give or take."
"Hm. A buck twenty, straight out of the shower..." I grinned from beneath an olive-hoodie, which concealed my features, save for the brown-green hair that broke the dark pool. A green hoodie with a black jacket over that and corduroy pants that were darker than your typically khaki. I looked like a Berkley student fresh off the bus to college, and now stood in an arena to fight a mammoth who wanted to rip my head off and drink the blood from my spouting neck like some fucking chalice.
The man scoffed and covered the microphone, leaning in towards me with a serious face, "You sure about this kid? He wont stop until you're dead..." I took a moment and the crowd grew still. The could sense fear like a bloodhound sensed blood. They watched in anticipation as my head lifted toward the Bet Counter and cocked a brow with a sigh of disappointment.
Illusion [ $50 ]
Payn [ $28,500 ]
I turned my face back to the man and then spanned the crowd slowly with a thin, hidden grin and spoke, "Thanks to whoever bet fifty bucks on me. You're about to be fuckin' wealthy beyond your wildest dreams..." The crowd roared with laughter and cheers -- mainly that I was going to stick it out and they'd see my blood all over the pavement, but truthfully because this was a massive Payn following. I was going into this fight knowing that I might die, or I might have to kill someone, but I wasn't sure how the mercy-look would work in a place like this, if I wanted to have fun. But that reminded me -- I was just here to have fun.
Besides -- these Odds were Astronomical. Easier money than the IRS and taxes!
The announcer waved his hand and backed up out of the arena and the cheering crew hushed, but excited chatter and whooping for their player -- namely Payn -- ensued with ideas of what to do to me first. I decided to feel the man out and see what his weaknesses might be first, allowing him the initial attack, which he rushed into blindly. An attempted bear-hug into a spiked chest garment wasn't my way of going out, especially in the first round and I had rucked and sidestepped to the right, beneath his gripping arms which sent him lunging at the crowd who OOOoo'd in fear and anticipation.
By the time he'd regained his footing, I was already standing there looking at him. I lifted a hand to yawn and his anger boiled from his neck up, causing his head to fume nearly and glow a faint red tint. His fists were white-knuckled with fury and he stepped and began swinging wide hay-makers. I leaned to the left and right, keeping my balance, but without my key element exposed, my range of bending backwards was severely hampered. I reached behind my back, unzipping a rear fly while avoiding another onslaught of swinging and out popped a slender tail with a tuft at the end in a shade of chocolate being darker than my average skin tone. A hushed gasp crossed the crowds.
"Hold still, you little fuck!" He snarled.
Payn didn't seem to notice or care, barreling at me with my new-found agility. I saw my moment and in one of his fist-cocked motions, my tail snapped between my legs and grappled him about his right knee, and pulled, buckling his stance and he collapsed to the ground in an angered groan of pain, as his planted foot was reeled in toward his body. It looked painful from my position and I stepped up, avoiding a kick and then backed up. The crowd sudden became worried at the money they'd spent on Payn, only to realize that I was just toying with him...
The Fights were in rare form tonight. Adara breezed past the giant bouncer of the week with a one-fingered wave. They rotated shifts every fight; new location, different bouncer than the week before. But they all knew her by now. She'd been fighting for a few months, making her way through the ranks and earning buckets of cash from all the poor losers who bet against a little girl.
"Benny, who am I up against tonight?" Benny was the fight coordinator, a hulking man just recently retired from the pro (legitimate) boxing circuit.
"You're not up tonight, Vitalos!" he shouted.
"What do you mean, I'm not up? Who the fuck IS up? "The crowd was getting rowdy. Adara stood on her toes, trying to see who was in the ring.
"Some new guy, callin' himself 'Illusion.'" Benny threw up a pair of finger quotes that would have Adara burning them right off his hands if they were directed at her. She swore. Looked at the bet counter, which was just gearing up for the fight. Nothin on the new guy yet.
Fuckin' new guy. What the hell, why not? She pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket and tossed it at Benny. "50 on 'Illusion'." She repeated the air quotes for good measure.
Pushing her way to the front of the crowd wasn't easy, but where an elbow or a dirty look didn't do the trick, a stomp to the foot with her heavy boots did. A few sore toes and ribs were left in her wake, but she was annoyed. Needed to work off some steam, especially after that tedious break-in job. Something to punch would have been perfect.
But no. New guy was the star attraction tonight. Maybe the audience was getting bored with watching Adara beat up guys twice her size. Nah, who could get sick of that? Maybe just leaving them in suspense for next week.
Illusion was facing off against Payn. Nasty son of a bitch. Textbook super-strength metahuman. Boring as shit. Adara leaned against the edge of the waist-high fence that separated the fighters from the crowd. The two of them entered the ring. Illusion was a small guy, but he looked like he was quick on his feet. Not unlike Adara herself.
She watched as he did exactly what she would have; toyed with Payne, dodged his attacks and tired the big man out. The raucous crowd slowly quieted until the room almost consisted of one communal held breath. Payn was pissed, and it was making him even clumsier than usual. Illusion still looked fresh. Boy probably hadn't even gone through half his bag of tricks yet.
Adara waited, eyeing that $28,500 bet for Payn. The end would come soon.
"Benny, who am I up against tonight?" Benny was the fight coordinator, a hulking man just recently retired from the pro (legitimate) boxing circuit.
"You're not up tonight, Vitalos!" he shouted.
"What do you mean, I'm not up? Who the fuck IS up? "The crowd was getting rowdy. Adara stood on her toes, trying to see who was in the ring.
"Some new guy, callin' himself 'Illusion.'" Benny threw up a pair of finger quotes that would have Adara burning them right off his hands if they were directed at her. She swore. Looked at the bet counter, which was just gearing up for the fight. Nothin on the new guy yet.
Fuckin' new guy. What the hell, why not? She pulled a wad of cash out of her pocket and tossed it at Benny. "50 on 'Illusion'." She repeated the air quotes for good measure.
Pushing her way to the front of the crowd wasn't easy, but where an elbow or a dirty look didn't do the trick, a stomp to the foot with her heavy boots did. A few sore toes and ribs were left in her wake, but she was annoyed. Needed to work off some steam, especially after that tedious break-in job. Something to punch would have been perfect.
But no. New guy was the star attraction tonight. Maybe the audience was getting bored with watching Adara beat up guys twice her size. Nah, who could get sick of that? Maybe just leaving them in suspense for next week.
Illusion was facing off against Payn. Nasty son of a bitch. Textbook super-strength metahuman. Boring as shit. Adara leaned against the edge of the waist-high fence that separated the fighters from the crowd. The two of them entered the ring. Illusion was a small guy, but he looked like he was quick on his feet. Not unlike Adara herself.
She watched as he did exactly what she would have; toyed with Payne, dodged his attacks and tired the big man out. The raucous crowd slowly quieted until the room almost consisted of one communal held breath. Payn was pissed, and it was making him even clumsier than usual. Illusion still looked fresh. Boy probably hadn't even gone through half his bag of tricks yet.
Adara waited, eyeing that $28,500 bet for Payn. The end would come soon.
The setting changes from Muspell to New Exodia
Scarlett
It was loud. Incredibly loud. At least, it sounded so, from outside the new building which was being used at the moment. I wanted to go in there so badly right now. Apparently, a new guy had stepped in. Some guy with a fancy name; they say he looks just like a twig, twice as breakable. I hid a small grin at that. Really, they just don't get it, do they?
I'd caught a glimpse of him earlier, trying to enter the building.
"I'm here for my fight tonight."
"Your tiny ass?"
"Faster than your lard ass. Shut up and move."
"Fuck you, fairy. You aint fightin' ..."
And then he teleported right in, in a puff of smoke. I had to stop myself from smiling. I stopped when I'd caught the bouncer glaring at me. Didn't want myself to lose control, not at this time.
Wonder what happened to that girl, I mused. The petite boxer girl -the Champion of Musspell, as everyone knew her- who usually came in around this time was gone. I didn't think she'd drop out after I'd seen her tackle a bear-sized man to the ground in like, 5 seconds flat.
And there she was, storming in like she owned the place. She sort of did, actually. I snuck in after her to watch the fight, placing several notes in the bouncer's hand, keeping my head down. I lost track of where she went and made my way, keeping low, straight for the edge of the ring, to get up close.
'Illusion' and 'Payn' were fighting it out, a long and painful brawl. Well, you couldn't really classify it as a fight. It was more like a game between a cat and a mouse, except the mouse was better. I watched carefully, recording and predicting every action and reaction. It was interesting. I could handle watching this kind of play fight, at least, before someone died. There's a difference between watching people kill others in real life, with intent and purpose, and watching a small meaningless fight in a crowded room.
It was loud. Incredibly loud. At least, it sounded so, from outside the new building which was being used at the moment. I wanted to go in there so badly right now. Apparently, a new guy had stepped in. Some guy with a fancy name; they say he looks just like a twig, twice as breakable. I hid a small grin at that. Really, they just don't get it, do they?
I'd caught a glimpse of him earlier, trying to enter the building.
"I'm here for my fight tonight."
"Your tiny ass?"
"Faster than your lard ass. Shut up and move."
"Fuck you, fairy. You aint fightin' ..."
And then he teleported right in, in a puff of smoke. I had to stop myself from smiling. I stopped when I'd caught the bouncer glaring at me. Didn't want myself to lose control, not at this time.
Wonder what happened to that girl, I mused. The petite boxer girl -the Champion of Musspell, as everyone knew her- who usually came in around this time was gone. I didn't think she'd drop out after I'd seen her tackle a bear-sized man to the ground in like, 5 seconds flat.
And there she was, storming in like she owned the place. She sort of did, actually. I snuck in after her to watch the fight, placing several notes in the bouncer's hand, keeping my head down. I lost track of where she went and made my way, keeping low, straight for the edge of the ring, to get up close.
'Illusion' and 'Payn' were fighting it out, a long and painful brawl. Well, you couldn't really classify it as a fight. It was more like a game between a cat and a mouse, except the mouse was better. I watched carefully, recording and predicting every action and reaction. It was interesting. I could handle watching this kind of play fight, at least, before someone died. There's a difference between watching people kill others in real life, with intent and purpose, and watching a small meaningless fight in a crowded room.
The setting changes from New Exodia to Nifl
Dark chocolate eyes scanned the monitors carefully. Had the building's defense been turned on, steel doors as thick as a man's shoulders would have shut off the first three floors, turning the entire building into a cage of steel. Then security doors would have begun to drop into place, one by one by sectors -- locking places down that seemed to be lynch pin crucial and so on, like trapping rats with pieces of cardboard. Gas might have crept into the rooms. Laser guided turrets and so forth. The building was spectacularly defended, but for some reason -- all had bee disarmed. And no, we're not just talking about the smoldering security guards. Fire prompted the sprinkler system to kick on with her exit and showered the men who were in flames into submission.
I stared with a bit of humor, wondering what it was that she'd stolen and with the tap of a few keys, I focused in on the technology within the drive that she'd stolen and choked on a bit of a laugh. It stifled from my lips for a moment before I shook my head and pressed a hand to my face, "Fuck... that's going to be a headache." The information on the drive wasn't technically mine, though it was stored in my files, on my servers, in my building -- however those file that were so specific were for a Xeno-suit with incredible capabilities. The cost on the market, with out plans was an incredible paycheck -- even I knew this.
So why were the defenses off?
I smirked. I saw competition. Whoever this girl was, she was quick with her hands and in this world -- this life, people who stepped out with their powers were noticed in a few places more-so than others. Specifically, doing more criminal acts because with powers like hers, fire is dangerous shit. Especially when it can consume the oxygen around her in seconds into a raging wildfire; these same wildfires take the outskirts weeks to put out, and here she wielded it as if it was merely another extension of herself. Tapping a few keys, I replayed her exit fight with the young man. He was quick. Dealt some damage. She looked overwhelmed. Stepped back. And Yoga Flamed the shit out of this guy. Sue me, I liked some Street Fighter.
Fighter. "Shit! The fights! I forgot I'm up tonight..." Mumbling to myself, I narrowed my eyes and tapped the keys again, replaying slowly while leaning into the large screen before me. She was getting her ass beat, but then ... pulled out ... "What is that ...?" I squinted and shook my head slowly. It was some sort of silver box, but ... "Ah! A lighter!?" It could have been, and as the wheels churned within me I walked into my closet touching a key on the wall and the alarms for the building went off and a voice answered, "Yes, sir?"
"Clean up the mess. Don't worry about the girl. Make sure those soldiers are briefed and reviewed. I want to know what they know and how she got passed the preliminary defenses. Someone would have had to have said something..."
"Roger that, sir."
I changed and left. The building would be taken care of for the remainder of the night by security. I simply ... vanished.
I stared with a bit of humor, wondering what it was that she'd stolen and with the tap of a few keys, I focused in on the technology within the drive that she'd stolen and choked on a bit of a laugh. It stifled from my lips for a moment before I shook my head and pressed a hand to my face, "Fuck... that's going to be a headache." The information on the drive wasn't technically mine, though it was stored in my files, on my servers, in my building -- however those file that were so specific were for a Xeno-suit with incredible capabilities. The cost on the market, with out plans was an incredible paycheck -- even I knew this.
So why were the defenses off?
I smirked. I saw competition. Whoever this girl was, she was quick with her hands and in this world -- this life, people who stepped out with their powers were noticed in a few places more-so than others. Specifically, doing more criminal acts because with powers like hers, fire is dangerous shit. Especially when it can consume the oxygen around her in seconds into a raging wildfire; these same wildfires take the outskirts weeks to put out, and here she wielded it as if it was merely another extension of herself. Tapping a few keys, I replayed her exit fight with the young man. He was quick. Dealt some damage. She looked overwhelmed. Stepped back. And Yoga Flamed the shit out of this guy. Sue me, I liked some Street Fighter.
Fighter. "Shit! The fights! I forgot I'm up tonight..." Mumbling to myself, I narrowed my eyes and tapped the keys again, replaying slowly while leaning into the large screen before me. She was getting her ass beat, but then ... pulled out ... "What is that ...?" I squinted and shook my head slowly. It was some sort of silver box, but ... "Ah! A lighter!?" It could have been, and as the wheels churned within me I walked into my closet touching a key on the wall and the alarms for the building went off and a voice answered, "Yes, sir?"
"Clean up the mess. Don't worry about the girl. Make sure those soldiers are briefed and reviewed. I want to know what they know and how she got passed the preliminary defenses. Someone would have had to have said something..."
"Roger that, sir."
I changed and left. The building would be taken care of for the remainder of the night by security. I simply ... vanished.
I gave the spiky fuck a little time to get up after his fall and noticed in that short time, his breathing was heavier and winded. He really wasn't used to someone putting up a fight without fighting and exerting himself was paying off for me. I wanted to make a show of it for the crowd though, so that they didn't feel like they'd lose their money horribly -- even though that's exactly what was happening. When he stood, the sounds of plinking metal whispered behind him and he turned to see that some of the spikes had been busted loose from the leather straps and this really, really pissed him off.
"Do you KNOW how much this shit COST ME?!" He roared, throwing his hands out in grief as he faced me. I shrugged, apathetically.
"It's not even a look, dude. It's straps of leather. I'm sure your mommy can repair it for you." I snickered.
Enraging people was something that I did best. As a simple and easy-going passive aggressive, I could lay back, relax and thump buttons all day long and in the end, probably still have a beer with this hulking, bondage-douche. Somehow though, I didn't think he felt the same way. He lifted into a boxer's stance and I saw what looked to be a bit of chi ebbing from his frame. I wasn't aware that he had any form of training in these arts, but being the new guy, I didn't know much. I was a bit of a dunce when it came to things like this.
I'd been in an alleyway after a gig in Muspell about two weeks ago when some fuckstick tried to jump me in an alley. Notice that a gig in my line of work wasn't easy, by any means -- and I'm surely not fucking talking about music. However, as classified as my work was, let's just say that I'd returned some stolen property to it's rightful owner when this fuck-nut approaches me with a knife in a shadier part of Muspell. A knife. I mean, seriously -- the fight wasn't anything drastic, but I'd also been training for the better part of my life, thanks to dear ole' dad, so when the time came -- I suspect it was brutal looking.
I wont get too much into this little side-note, but to simply say, when the fight ended, the man was unconscious and hanging by his boot laces from one of those metal and grate staircases that is mounted to the outside of a building. Apparently, this tickled someone's fancy and he drove up on me in a blacked out sedan and cracked the window, only handing me a bit of parchment with an address scribble on it, a time and date, and 'The Fights'. And here I am.
Payn had taken his precious time while I'd been reminiscing about how I ended up here and finally had conjured enough energy to form something of an attack. Now, call me arrogant, but the time it took him to accumulate such a small amount of potential, I'd nearly doubled it. "EAT THIS, FAIRYFUCK!" He roared and threw a fist toward me. The energy had swollen about his wrist and fanned out into something that looked like a cone of energy, with the point aimed right at me. Normally, someone would have been concerned with this sort of onslaught because of the man's overall size, assuming that his energy-gathering abilities might directly correlate. Wrong answer.
I didn't want to do what I did, but only because I liked this hoodie. With a raised right hand, the swamp of arcana expanded about lithe digits and essentially brick-walled his entire attack. The cone came into contact with my own arcana and simply nullified what he had sent toward me with a whoosh of wind from the heavy collision across the crowds. My dejection was that the trails of arcana crossed my arms, via runic tattoos that had been scribed along my flesh. When they'd heated up, it literally burned off the sleeve of my hoodie like a high-intensity laser.
The crowd flipped out. Their cheers of seeing such potentials drove them to insane antics and pointing. I sighed, deciding that it was time to end this stupidity. I grinned. The light from this angle illuminated my lower jaw and sharp canines, revealing a caramel olive toned skin and a nasty sneer, "My turn." Payn's eyes were widened, still in awe that his entire efforts had been put down like a rabid dog.
A snap echoed within the concrete room and I'd vanished. Such a trick would be confusing to some, but the arcana in my bloodline was incredibly powerful. Tracking me would be useless, because the moment I vanished, I wasn't really on the corporeal plane, but an alternate dimension. Throughout time, people have called it Purgatory, but I know better than that -- my demon side enjoys the travels and feels revitalized whenever I return. Seconds pass. I cannot ever remain in this limbo state, due to the laws of the universe. I, like my father before me, have learned to master and harness where I leave from, and where I re-enter. In this such case, I've projected myself out of the limbo state with a flying knee ... right to Payn's big ugly facemask. I can feel the crunching of cartilage beneath my bones. I can stare into his eyes, milliseconds before the impact and watch his pupils dilate with recognition. The beads of sweat on his massive, bald head -- I can count them individually. The very breath heaves from this ebony mask and it sounds like a typhoon with his inhalation of utter surprise. Crunch.
Riding his body like a stallion was a rather enjoyable experience. The gasp from the crowd sounded like it could have sucked the oxygen from the entire building. It was a collective understanding that they no longer had any money or investment in this fight. They'd lost everything, except for one luck person who bet right ... of course, this was my opinion. Avoiding the spikes, I pushed off of Payn in a launching or vaulting motion, performing a back flip, but using my own weight to rocket the man at the ground where the sickening thump of his skull against the hard concrete allowed a massive wince at once to act as a wave through the crowds. With perfect agility I landed, standing in the middle of the arena. Music blared. Other fights cheered and could be heard, but the oddity of silence around me felt odd. I exhaled quietly.
"Do you KNOW how much this shit COST ME?!" He roared, throwing his hands out in grief as he faced me. I shrugged, apathetically.
"It's not even a look, dude. It's straps of leather. I'm sure your mommy can repair it for you." I snickered.
Enraging people was something that I did best. As a simple and easy-going passive aggressive, I could lay back, relax and thump buttons all day long and in the end, probably still have a beer with this hulking, bondage-douche. Somehow though, I didn't think he felt the same way. He lifted into a boxer's stance and I saw what looked to be a bit of chi ebbing from his frame. I wasn't aware that he had any form of training in these arts, but being the new guy, I didn't know much. I was a bit of a dunce when it came to things like this.
I'd been in an alleyway after a gig in Muspell about two weeks ago when some fuckstick tried to jump me in an alley. Notice that a gig in my line of work wasn't easy, by any means -- and I'm surely not fucking talking about music. However, as classified as my work was, let's just say that I'd returned some stolen property to it's rightful owner when this fuck-nut approaches me with a knife in a shadier part of Muspell. A knife. I mean, seriously -- the fight wasn't anything drastic, but I'd also been training for the better part of my life, thanks to dear ole' dad, so when the time came -- I suspect it was brutal looking.
I wont get too much into this little side-note, but to simply say, when the fight ended, the man was unconscious and hanging by his boot laces from one of those metal and grate staircases that is mounted to the outside of a building. Apparently, this tickled someone's fancy and he drove up on me in a blacked out sedan and cracked the window, only handing me a bit of parchment with an address scribble on it, a time and date, and 'The Fights'. And here I am.
Payn had taken his precious time while I'd been reminiscing about how I ended up here and finally had conjured enough energy to form something of an attack. Now, call me arrogant, but the time it took him to accumulate such a small amount of potential, I'd nearly doubled it. "EAT THIS, FAIRYFUCK!" He roared and threw a fist toward me. The energy had swollen about his wrist and fanned out into something that looked like a cone of energy, with the point aimed right at me. Normally, someone would have been concerned with this sort of onslaught because of the man's overall size, assuming that his energy-gathering abilities might directly correlate. Wrong answer.
I didn't want to do what I did, but only because I liked this hoodie. With a raised right hand, the swamp of arcana expanded about lithe digits and essentially brick-walled his entire attack. The cone came into contact with my own arcana and simply nullified what he had sent toward me with a whoosh of wind from the heavy collision across the crowds. My dejection was that the trails of arcana crossed my arms, via runic tattoos that had been scribed along my flesh. When they'd heated up, it literally burned off the sleeve of my hoodie like a high-intensity laser.
The crowd flipped out. Their cheers of seeing such potentials drove them to insane antics and pointing. I sighed, deciding that it was time to end this stupidity. I grinned. The light from this angle illuminated my lower jaw and sharp canines, revealing a caramel olive toned skin and a nasty sneer, "My turn." Payn's eyes were widened, still in awe that his entire efforts had been put down like a rabid dog.
A snap echoed within the concrete room and I'd vanished. Such a trick would be confusing to some, but the arcana in my bloodline was incredibly powerful. Tracking me would be useless, because the moment I vanished, I wasn't really on the corporeal plane, but an alternate dimension. Throughout time, people have called it Purgatory, but I know better than that -- my demon side enjoys the travels and feels revitalized whenever I return. Seconds pass. I cannot ever remain in this limbo state, due to the laws of the universe. I, like my father before me, have learned to master and harness where I leave from, and where I re-enter. In this such case, I've projected myself out of the limbo state with a flying knee ... right to Payn's big ugly facemask. I can feel the crunching of cartilage beneath my bones. I can stare into his eyes, milliseconds before the impact and watch his pupils dilate with recognition. The beads of sweat on his massive, bald head -- I can count them individually. The very breath heaves from this ebony mask and it sounds like a typhoon with his inhalation of utter surprise. Crunch.
Riding his body like a stallion was a rather enjoyable experience. The gasp from the crowd sounded like it could have sucked the oxygen from the entire building. It was a collective understanding that they no longer had any money or investment in this fight. They'd lost everything, except for one luck person who bet right ... of course, this was my opinion. Avoiding the spikes, I pushed off of Payn in a launching or vaulting motion, performing a back flip, but using my own weight to rocket the man at the ground where the sickening thump of his skull against the hard concrete allowed a massive wince at once to act as a wave through the crowds. With perfect agility I landed, standing in the middle of the arena. Music blared. Other fights cheered and could be heard, but the oddity of silence around me felt odd. I exhaled quietly.
The fight ended with the result Adara had expected, but not the methods. This Illusion was a powerful man. And a cocky son of a bitch. We'd either get along real well or kill each other... The crowd gathered around the arena fell silent as Illusion finished off Payn with style. The guy had a real flair for the dramatic.
The announcer finally broke the silence. "And Illusion wins it in a surprising blowout! Payn is down for the count. Damn that looks painful!" A few people started clapping; probably those that got there too late to place a bet. Adara joined in, clapping more enthusiastically than those around her. A few gave her dirty looks. She gave them the finger.
"And congratulations to the lucky person who bet $50 on Mr. Illusion! You're going home rich tonight!"
Fuck yeah! This had turned out to be a great day for Adara's bank account. She sauntered away as a few men trotted out to remove Payn from the ring. Guy was gonna have a major headache in the morning, a fact which made Adara laugh out loud. She searched for Benny. He had to be somewhere nearby, with a nice fat payout for her.
"Hey! It's not my problem! You bet, you lost. Get over it." Benny was surrounded by a mob of people demanding their money back. He didn't look the least bit flustered, though some of the men and women glared as if they could kill him with their minds. Hell, maybe some of them could.
"I believe that's mine," Adara said. She waved the tips of her fingers at Benny. With a shake of his head the big man handed over the cash.
"Lucky bitch. Be careful on your way home."
"Oh I will." She winked and stuffed the money in the pocket of her leggings.
Adara didn't get far before she found herself surrounded. It wasn't unusual for mini fights to break out in the crowd. People got out of hand, insulted one another's mothers, and blows were traded. These were usually short and didn't attract much attention. This confrontation, though, wasn't going to be a few amateurs trading blows.
A ring of angry men and women shouted and growled at Adara, demanding she return their money. Sore losers. She fished her lighter out of her pocket, flipped it open, and held her finger over the thumbwheel. That antsy feeling returned. She needed to punch something. How nice of these people to oblige.
"Oh, fuck with me. Please."
The announcer finally broke the silence. "And Illusion wins it in a surprising blowout! Payn is down for the count. Damn that looks painful!" A few people started clapping; probably those that got there too late to place a bet. Adara joined in, clapping more enthusiastically than those around her. A few gave her dirty looks. She gave them the finger.
"And congratulations to the lucky person who bet $50 on Mr. Illusion! You're going home rich tonight!"
Fuck yeah! This had turned out to be a great day for Adara's bank account. She sauntered away as a few men trotted out to remove Payn from the ring. Guy was gonna have a major headache in the morning, a fact which made Adara laugh out loud. She searched for Benny. He had to be somewhere nearby, with a nice fat payout for her.
"Hey! It's not my problem! You bet, you lost. Get over it." Benny was surrounded by a mob of people demanding their money back. He didn't look the least bit flustered, though some of the men and women glared as if they could kill him with their minds. Hell, maybe some of them could.
"I believe that's mine," Adara said. She waved the tips of her fingers at Benny. With a shake of his head the big man handed over the cash.
"Lucky bitch. Be careful on your way home."
"Oh I will." She winked and stuffed the money in the pocket of her leggings.
Adara didn't get far before she found herself surrounded. It wasn't unusual for mini fights to break out in the crowd. People got out of hand, insulted one another's mothers, and blows were traded. These were usually short and didn't attract much attention. This confrontation, though, wasn't going to be a few amateurs trading blows.
A ring of angry men and women shouted and growled at Adara, demanding she return their money. Sore losers. She fished her lighter out of her pocket, flipped it open, and held her finger over the thumbwheel. That antsy feeling returned. She needed to punch something. How nice of these people to oblige.
"Oh, fuck with me. Please."
"Hey. Fucktards!"
The mob's angry rants hushed for a moment in the middle of all of the music blaring in the background and the other fights going on to turn and see this man known as Illusion standing within five feet from them. They separated leaving a direct line between me and Adara and I waved a hand with a frown, as if shooing them off... I sighed and kicked my hoodie back off my head. The light revealed a mob of brown hair that seemed an olive tint in the right lighting and a slender, handsome face on a young man. Of course I was handsome, what else would I be? Dusting a bit of unruly hair from my eyes, I spoke again, "You shouldn't have bet on that fuck if you didn't want to lose your money. You reacted based on my size and your pocketbook suffered. Now fuck off and leave her be, before we tag-team your asses..."
It was then that they saw who she was and realized that fighting a flame-eater and some freak show wouldn't be a good idea at all. Whispers of her being the one to control fire crawled across the crowd swiftly and they pointed with small fingers and bent arms, as if spying some celebrity and trying to remain hushed about it. They slowly dispersed and I took a look at the woman for the first time. She was sexy. Great athletic figure. A smirk crawled across my lips that was more devil than man and I snickered to myself. It slowly waned from my lips though as I saw what was in here hand: a lighter.
I lofted an unseen brow, buried beneath all of the hair that covered my eyes and I approached her with a bit of apprehension and caution as Benny approached me and tapped me on the shoulder with a chuckle, "Hey kid. This is yours." He handed me a rather fat roll and nodded, "Your first sanctioned fight, right?" I took the roll of money with a shrug and flipped out a grand and handed it back to the man who stared at me like I was crazy. "You won that. It's yours."
"I understand. And now I'm tipping you what I think you deserve for doing this." Benny looked at me skeptically and then looked at Adara with a bit of confusion, before apprehensively taking the money and pocketing it. "Thanks?"
"You're welcome. I'd like to set up another one. Weed out all of these people who are larger than life..." I gave the man a mischievous grin before looking to Adara, knowing she knew what I was talking about and then I nodded to her, "Wanna grab a bite to eat?"
Benny chuckled at patted me on the back, "You're just looking for trouble now, kid. Where you from?"
The question was so fucking loaded that the man would blow a gasket if he really knew. I smirked, "Hm. Everywhere, man. Everywhere."
That skeptical face came back, "What's your name?" He asked instead.
"Call me Dante."
"Benny."
"Pleasure." We shook before he nodded to Adara and walked off, leaving us to ourselves.
The mob's angry rants hushed for a moment in the middle of all of the music blaring in the background and the other fights going on to turn and see this man known as Illusion standing within five feet from them. They separated leaving a direct line between me and Adara and I waved a hand with a frown, as if shooing them off... I sighed and kicked my hoodie back off my head. The light revealed a mob of brown hair that seemed an olive tint in the right lighting and a slender, handsome face on a young man. Of course I was handsome, what else would I be? Dusting a bit of unruly hair from my eyes, I spoke again, "You shouldn't have bet on that fuck if you didn't want to lose your money. You reacted based on my size and your pocketbook suffered. Now fuck off and leave her be, before we tag-team your asses..."
It was then that they saw who she was and realized that fighting a flame-eater and some freak show wouldn't be a good idea at all. Whispers of her being the one to control fire crawled across the crowd swiftly and they pointed with small fingers and bent arms, as if spying some celebrity and trying to remain hushed about it. They slowly dispersed and I took a look at the woman for the first time. She was sexy. Great athletic figure. A smirk crawled across my lips that was more devil than man and I snickered to myself. It slowly waned from my lips though as I saw what was in here hand: a lighter.
I lofted an unseen brow, buried beneath all of the hair that covered my eyes and I approached her with a bit of apprehension and caution as Benny approached me and tapped me on the shoulder with a chuckle, "Hey kid. This is yours." He handed me a rather fat roll and nodded, "Your first sanctioned fight, right?" I took the roll of money with a shrug and flipped out a grand and handed it back to the man who stared at me like I was crazy. "You won that. It's yours."
"I understand. And now I'm tipping you what I think you deserve for doing this." Benny looked at me skeptically and then looked at Adara with a bit of confusion, before apprehensively taking the money and pocketing it. "Thanks?"
"You're welcome. I'd like to set up another one. Weed out all of these people who are larger than life..." I gave the man a mischievous grin before looking to Adara, knowing she knew what I was talking about and then I nodded to her, "Wanna grab a bite to eat?"
Benny chuckled at patted me on the back, "You're just looking for trouble now, kid. Where you from?"
The question was so fucking loaded that the man would blow a gasket if he really knew. I smirked, "Hm. Everywhere, man. Everywhere."
That skeptical face came back, "What's your name?" He asked instead.
"Call me Dante."
"Benny."
"Pleasure." We shook before he nodded to Adara and walked off, leaving us to ourselves.
Hugh scratched his dark brown hair as he entered the arena. His latest offer had just come from Waterson, one of his contacts, concerning the "eradication of one notorious gang 'Terror Engineers.' " Though he had handled cases as these in the past, getting inside the factions and taking the Engies out quietly was going to prove difficult on his own.
"Just my luck that Chum and Bramminond are out..." thought Hugh.
Hugh has always detested The Fights. Whether it be for the reason that it stole Ross away from his life or for the resentment of watching others stoop to killing themselves to obtain a living. However, desperate times called for desperate measures- the Engineers needed to be eradicated, and Hugh was running out of options for potential teammates before the op was to start. There were only two places to find desperate souls looking for work- the bar, or the Arena. Though he was no connisseur of the Fights per se, he keeps a solid record of some of the more renowned celebrities, and Adara Vitalos was a consistent winner. Since this was an impromptu visit, he wasn't quite sure if Adara was on the docket to fight, but if he could somehow catch her and persuade her to join in this op, it would make his job that much easier- and perhaps set her up to find a more "healthy" way of living.
Luckily for Hugh, as he entered the arena, who would be standing close by but the illustrious Adara Vitalos herself, accompanied by a shady man Hugh had never seen before. Making his way through the crowd, he finally stumbled upon Adara, making his presence known just loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
"Adara Vitalos, right? The name's Hugh Baselard. I know you're busy, so I'll cut to the chase- I have a business proposition for you. I think you'll find that it's tailored to your, erm, "talents" to a t."
As he extended a hand to shake Adaras, he took notice of her companion. He looked a little slender to be considered for this kind of work, but Hugh knew better than to let a first impression get the better of his judgement.
"I'm not sure how accustomed you are to getting your hands dirty, but I assume an acquaintance of Adara has to be able to hold his own as well. You're more than welcome to come along as well, Mr...?"
"Just my luck that Chum and Bramminond are out..." thought Hugh.
Hugh has always detested The Fights. Whether it be for the reason that it stole Ross away from his life or for the resentment of watching others stoop to killing themselves to obtain a living. However, desperate times called for desperate measures- the Engineers needed to be eradicated, and Hugh was running out of options for potential teammates before the op was to start. There were only two places to find desperate souls looking for work- the bar, or the Arena. Though he was no connisseur of the Fights per se, he keeps a solid record of some of the more renowned celebrities, and Adara Vitalos was a consistent winner. Since this was an impromptu visit, he wasn't quite sure if Adara was on the docket to fight, but if he could somehow catch her and persuade her to join in this op, it would make his job that much easier- and perhaps set her up to find a more "healthy" way of living.
Luckily for Hugh, as he entered the arena, who would be standing close by but the illustrious Adara Vitalos herself, accompanied by a shady man Hugh had never seen before. Making his way through the crowd, he finally stumbled upon Adara, making his presence known just loud enough to be heard over the crowd.
"Adara Vitalos, right? The name's Hugh Baselard. I know you're busy, so I'll cut to the chase- I have a business proposition for you. I think you'll find that it's tailored to your, erm, "talents" to a t."
As he extended a hand to shake Adaras, he took notice of her companion. He looked a little slender to be considered for this kind of work, but Hugh knew better than to let a first impression get the better of his judgement.
"I'm not sure how accustomed you are to getting your hands dirty, but I assume an acquaintance of Adara has to be able to hold his own as well. You're more than welcome to come along as well, Mr...?"
The setting changes from Muspell to New Exodia
"Shit." Adara pointed at Dante. "That's two fights you've stolen from me tonight." Her fists tightened, and she had a strong urge to merely change the fight's participants. But the guy did just win her a huge payout. With a great effort, Adara pocketed her lighter. "You probably saved a couple lives though." She looked the stranger over. He was a small guy, but not without a certain charm.
"Food... okay. But your treat. To make it up to me." She glared, but there wasn't any real venom in it.
Before they could leave, another man approached. He was tall, well built, and unassuming. But his perfectly-styled blonde hair said he took a certain pride in his appearance. The polar opposite of Dante's careless good looks. I'm popular tonight, considering I didn't even knock anyone out.
"Adara Vitalos, right? The name's Hugh Baselard. I know you're busy, so I'll cut to the chase- I have a business proposition for you. I think you'll find that it's tailored to your, erm, "talents" to a t," the man said. This conversation was getting tedious already; Adara just wanted to hit something.
But. Baselard was offering a job ... and a job meant money. Can never have enough of that. She thought longingly of the punching bag back at her apartment, but it might be worth it to see what he had to say. He held out a hand for her to shake. Interesting. Not many people in Muspell bothered with niceties these days.
She gripped his hand, hating that she had to look up so far to meet Baselard's eyes. "I don't have the patience to stand around here any longer. Dante here just offered to treat me to dinner. I'm sure he won't mind one more." She eyed Dante, daring him to contradict her.
"Food... okay. But your treat. To make it up to me." She glared, but there wasn't any real venom in it.
Before they could leave, another man approached. He was tall, well built, and unassuming. But his perfectly-styled blonde hair said he took a certain pride in his appearance. The polar opposite of Dante's careless good looks. I'm popular tonight, considering I didn't even knock anyone out.
"Adara Vitalos, right? The name's Hugh Baselard. I know you're busy, so I'll cut to the chase- I have a business proposition for you. I think you'll find that it's tailored to your, erm, "talents" to a t," the man said. This conversation was getting tedious already; Adara just wanted to hit something.
But. Baselard was offering a job ... and a job meant money. Can never have enough of that. She thought longingly of the punching bag back at her apartment, but it might be worth it to see what he had to say. He held out a hand for her to shake. Interesting. Not many people in Muspell bothered with niceties these days.
She gripped his hand, hating that she had to look up so far to meet Baselard's eyes. "I don't have the patience to stand around here any longer. Dante here just offered to treat me to dinner. I'm sure he won't mind one more." She eyed Dante, daring him to contradict her.
Scarlett
I managed to escape the bottleneck, leaving the room slightly earlier than everyone else. But as soon as I stepped out, someone pushed me from behind, a sudden movement that made me barrel roll across the ground. Someone's drink spilled onto my back. I sprang back up, a string of curses rolling off my tongue. However, it had to be cut short, because some idiot kicked this random guy out, sending him slamming into me and causing the both of us to fall back onto the ground.
"Where'sm' money, you sunuhvabetch?" the other man slurred. He was huge, just a bit smaller than Payn himself. He looked more like a blob of fats, though, bouncing towards the unlucky guy in front of me. Oh no. I swear, I could feel that fragile strand of patience and calmness tightening, deep down in my gut.
I shoved the other guy off, kicking him in the ass. "I'll deal with you later. What the fuck is your problem, you overused cunt?" I directed the question at Mr Bloboffat (that's his name from now on). He held a bottle of what smelled like beer. Really strong beer. He was alone, but somehow he still managed to block the entire exit. The noise coming from inside the building grew louder; people were getting impatient.
Bloboffat laughed, his jowls giggling. I resisted the urge to stick a knife in him. Calm down, I thought to myself.
No fucking chance, my other self growled. (NO don't damn it!) I could feel the energy sparking from behind my eyes, like a shock of electricity.
"Shaddup ye liddel bietch," he mumbled. He threw the bottle. I dodged. In that same instant, my instincts kicked in and... I let go.
BZZZT.
The sensation of feeling the wave of energy passing through something, leaving your body, gives you chills. Goosebumps. It's icy cold and bites your nerves like dry ice. But the effect it had on my eyes was refreshing, to say the least. It probably wasn't the same for Bloboffat, though.
He fell to the ground like a rock, spasming and drooling. Sparks of energy flew off him. His skin gave off steam and I could smell the faint scent of burnt flesh. I leaned back against the wall and watched as people streamed out, trying to calm my nerves.
You don't have much of a tolerance level when you're a psychopath. Occupational hazard.
I managed to escape the bottleneck, leaving the room slightly earlier than everyone else. But as soon as I stepped out, someone pushed me from behind, a sudden movement that made me barrel roll across the ground. Someone's drink spilled onto my back. I sprang back up, a string of curses rolling off my tongue. However, it had to be cut short, because some idiot kicked this random guy out, sending him slamming into me and causing the both of us to fall back onto the ground.
"Where'sm' money, you sunuhvabetch?" the other man slurred. He was huge, just a bit smaller than Payn himself. He looked more like a blob of fats, though, bouncing towards the unlucky guy in front of me. Oh no. I swear, I could feel that fragile strand of patience and calmness tightening, deep down in my gut.
I shoved the other guy off, kicking him in the ass. "I'll deal with you later. What the fuck is your problem, you overused cunt?" I directed the question at Mr Bloboffat (that's his name from now on). He held a bottle of what smelled like beer. Really strong beer. He was alone, but somehow he still managed to block the entire exit. The noise coming from inside the building grew louder; people were getting impatient.
Bloboffat laughed, his jowls giggling. I resisted the urge to stick a knife in him. Calm down, I thought to myself.
No fucking chance, my other self growled. (NO don't damn it!) I could feel the energy sparking from behind my eyes, like a shock of electricity.
"Shaddup ye liddel bietch," he mumbled. He threw the bottle. I dodged. In that same instant, my instincts kicked in and... I let go.
BZZZT.
The sensation of feeling the wave of energy passing through something, leaving your body, gives you chills. Goosebumps. It's icy cold and bites your nerves like dry ice. But the effect it had on my eyes was refreshing, to say the least. It probably wasn't the same for Bloboffat, though.
He fell to the ground like a rock, spasming and drooling. Sparks of energy flew off him. His skin gave off steam and I could smell the faint scent of burnt flesh. I leaned back against the wall and watched as people streamed out, trying to calm my nerves.
You don't have much of a tolerance level when you're a psychopath. Occupational hazard.
The setting changes from New Exodia to Muspell
She was certainly feisty, which was more of the reason she made it through Xion Core without much trouble -- skill was an excellent asset for her as well. Along with this ... charming personality. I was scolded, but with a boyishly cute and charismatic grin, she turned her attitude elsewhere before calming down some. She was attractive and this spit-fire spunk just was icing on the cake. I'd take a little pain with my pleasure, I smirked in thought.
She accepted to dinner and as they both made to move, some bombshell beauty showed up, except he was a fairy. His hair was way too perfectly placed and that strong jaw probably tackled the ladies emotional walls into submission. He was a bit charming, but he had a Keith-like flare about him that I shrugged off without much concern. He spoke of work to the woman and she looked to anger, but perked at the sound of financial motivation. So, she's a merc. Makes sense...
I stretched and shrugged. My tail wrapped about my waist like a belt, tucked beneath the ebony jacket and out of sight before giving a lithe, careless nod of approval. "I just made fourteen grand, along with Ms. Vitalos, here. So I'll be more than happy to spring for dinner for both of you. I made half the take and those who voted on me made the same. If one person bet on me, they'd make what I did. An extra five hundred was cut off the top for the set-up of each fight. They made a killing most nights. Know any good joints around here to eat at?" I asked in a random, aimless fashion that seemed to fit my personality well - at least for this withdrawn, rogue-sort that I was pretending to be. Besides, I never ate in a dump like Muspell, unless I prepared the food myself. I didn't want to catch anything nasty. You know -- like AIDS. The Clap. Or Gonnhaherpasyphilitis. Muspell wasn't exactly clean or known for their expertise in hygiene or cleanliness...
Stuffing my hands into bare pockets, I turned to see the other crowds slowly dissipating for the night and both the fights ending. A group of suits stood in the background, lingering in the darkness beyond the dense mob that had slowly began filtering out and I lofted a brow and turned by back toward them, whispering softly, "Behind me. Six o'clock. Friends of yours?" Dark chocolate eyes were focused on Adara's face, knowing that she could look over my shoulder and spy what I'd glimpsed and then with a bizarre change of attitude, I burst into laughter and lifted my hands, taking her and Hugh by the shoulder and spinning them toward the crowd. We'd be lost in them for sure and none would be the wiser.
Besides, dinner was on me and my acting career was just getting started!
She accepted to dinner and as they both made to move, some bombshell beauty showed up, except he was a fairy. His hair was way too perfectly placed and that strong jaw probably tackled the ladies emotional walls into submission. He was a bit charming, but he had a Keith-like flare about him that I shrugged off without much concern. He spoke of work to the woman and she looked to anger, but perked at the sound of financial motivation. So, she's a merc. Makes sense...
I stretched and shrugged. My tail wrapped about my waist like a belt, tucked beneath the ebony jacket and out of sight before giving a lithe, careless nod of approval. "I just made fourteen grand, along with Ms. Vitalos, here. So I'll be more than happy to spring for dinner for both of you. I made half the take and those who voted on me made the same. If one person bet on me, they'd make what I did. An extra five hundred was cut off the top for the set-up of each fight. They made a killing most nights. Know any good joints around here to eat at?" I asked in a random, aimless fashion that seemed to fit my personality well - at least for this withdrawn, rogue-sort that I was pretending to be. Besides, I never ate in a dump like Muspell, unless I prepared the food myself. I didn't want to catch anything nasty. You know -- like AIDS. The Clap. Or Gonnhaherpasyphilitis. Muspell wasn't exactly clean or known for their expertise in hygiene or cleanliness...
Stuffing my hands into bare pockets, I turned to see the other crowds slowly dissipating for the night and both the fights ending. A group of suits stood in the background, lingering in the darkness beyond the dense mob that had slowly began filtering out and I lofted a brow and turned by back toward them, whispering softly, "Behind me. Six o'clock. Friends of yours?" Dark chocolate eyes were focused on Adara's face, knowing that she could look over my shoulder and spy what I'd glimpsed and then with a bizarre change of attitude, I burst into laughter and lifted my hands, taking her and Hugh by the shoulder and spinning them toward the crowd. We'd be lost in them for sure and none would be the wiser.
Besides, dinner was on me and my acting career was just getting started!
Matching Adara's grip, Hugh enthusiastically returned the handshake, pleased to have piqued her interest. Perhaps his trip to the accursed Arena had proved fruitful after all! In addition to obtaining two potential colleagues for this significan op, he was getting treated to a free meal! Though he had mixed feelings about taking advantage of someone's blood money, it had been quite some time since Hugh had had a decent meal.
"And the more I think about it, how much different these people than me?" Hugh reasoned, "Money seldom crosses my palms unless there's blood at it at the request of an employer..."
Before more niceties could be exchanged, however, Hugh noticed the peculiar mannerisms of an even more peculiar group of people from across the crowd. Hugh made an instinctual grab for Masks chain, but was stopped abruptly by Dante's observatory gesture.
"Behind me. Six o'clock. Friends of yours?" the stranger asked.
"I don't have any friends." Hugh answered, tightening the grip on Masks memento.
Before he could take any action, however, he found himself swept away by Dante's escape plan. Agreeing with the course of action, Hugh went along with it, joining in Dante's laughter. Unlike Dante, however, part of Hugh really was enjoying the moment. If even for a split second, he was feeling something of companionship- something he had not felt in a long, long time.
"I'm thinking this guy will prove useful as well." Hugh observed.
"And the more I think about it, how much different these people than me?" Hugh reasoned, "Money seldom crosses my palms unless there's blood at it at the request of an employer..."
Before more niceties could be exchanged, however, Hugh noticed the peculiar mannerisms of an even more peculiar group of people from across the crowd. Hugh made an instinctual grab for Masks chain, but was stopped abruptly by Dante's observatory gesture.
"Behind me. Six o'clock. Friends of yours?" the stranger asked.
"I don't have any friends." Hugh answered, tightening the grip on Masks memento.
Before he could take any action, however, he found himself swept away by Dante's escape plan. Agreeing with the course of action, Hugh went along with it, joining in Dante's laughter. Unlike Dante, however, part of Hugh really was enjoying the moment. If even for a split second, he was feeling something of companionship- something he had not felt in a long, long time.
"I'm thinking this guy will prove useful as well." Hugh observed.
Zeban Hawk walked through the shady street of Muspell. He kept his cloaks cowl over his face. Many of the thugs who did not know him looked at this short man as out of place. But those who did know meerly gave a small knodd of respect to the gang leader. He was not alone following close behind was a rough looking boarder collie Shadow.
Now as he walked down the street he came closer to a 2 story building. There was a man outside and he opened the door. This was one of his gangs bases of operation. Over the years he had risen to take leadership of his fathers affiliates. Now he fully realized the responsibility of this. Though it was not a massive gang like some of the others he had control of a few block and as of now was in no turf wars.
Though he was only 24 he had an early start at around 13 he spent much of his time with the gang after his fathers death. He found his thoughts wandering and went back down to earth. He looked around at a few of the gang members 2 ex city security officers 2 senior gang members a local fight club member and 3 local thugs acting as muscle. "Good evening Gentlemen Tonight I have called us here together to organize out next job. We are going to be looting the local police armory."
A few men looked shocked others nodded." Make some Preparations I'm going to try to hire some help hopefully I can find someone...." Getting up Zeb left the room shadow following closely by his heels he exited into the streets of Muspell once again
Now as he walked down the street he came closer to a 2 story building. There was a man outside and he opened the door. This was one of his gangs bases of operation. Over the years he had risen to take leadership of his fathers affiliates. Now he fully realized the responsibility of this. Though it was not a massive gang like some of the others he had control of a few block and as of now was in no turf wars.
Though he was only 24 he had an early start at around 13 he spent much of his time with the gang after his fathers death. He found his thoughts wandering and went back down to earth. He looked around at a few of the gang members 2 ex city security officers 2 senior gang members a local fight club member and 3 local thugs acting as muscle. "Good evening Gentlemen Tonight I have called us here together to organize out next job. We are going to be looting the local police armory."
A few men looked shocked others nodded." Make some Preparations I'm going to try to hire some help hopefully I can find someone...." Getting up Zeb left the room shadow following closely by his heels he exited into the streets of Muspell once again
Adara hadn't really processed what was going on yet when Dante grabbed her and steered her back into the crowd. There had been a rough-looking group coming their way. Tougher than the angry gamblers had been. Professionals, if Adara spotted the signs correctly.
She glanced back. The group of men split and fanned out into the crowd, pushing through the throngs of bystanders. That itch for violence returned, and Adara stopped short, planting her feet. One of the strangers was about fifty feet back and headed right for her and her companions. Just one little fight... This guy's getting way too close. She mentally justified her next action. Besides that practical reasoning, she also wasn't going to let Dante keep her from another fight tonight.
Adara dropped to her haunches, ducking out of Dante's grip and rolling past the legs of a few people nearby. She stayed down, knowing she'd be lost in the sea of people, until her target walked by. She popped up and slammed a punch straight into the man's kidney.
He spun around, pissed, and a crowd of onlookers instantly formed around them. A glint of recognition sparked in the man's eyes. He knew who she was. So did much of the crowd.
"Kick his ass, Adara!" someone shouted. Adara grinned. That's exactly what she planned to do.
Tha man went on the attack, attempting to use his height against her. Typical. He was obviously used to more academic fighting conditions—his movements were well-timed and well-executed, but mechanical. Adara waited until he was almost on top of her, then planted a boot in his groin almost casually. The guy fell like a dropped slab of concrete.
What the hell? That doesn't even count as getting to fight!
She glanced back. The group of men split and fanned out into the crowd, pushing through the throngs of bystanders. That itch for violence returned, and Adara stopped short, planting her feet. One of the strangers was about fifty feet back and headed right for her and her companions. Just one little fight... This guy's getting way too close. She mentally justified her next action. Besides that practical reasoning, she also wasn't going to let Dante keep her from another fight tonight.
Adara dropped to her haunches, ducking out of Dante's grip and rolling past the legs of a few people nearby. She stayed down, knowing she'd be lost in the sea of people, until her target walked by. She popped up and slammed a punch straight into the man's kidney.
He spun around, pissed, and a crowd of onlookers instantly formed around them. A glint of recognition sparked in the man's eyes. He knew who she was. So did much of the crowd.
"Kick his ass, Adara!" someone shouted. Adara grinned. That's exactly what she planned to do.
Tha man went on the attack, attempting to use his height against her. Typical. He was obviously used to more academic fighting conditions—his movements were well-timed and well-executed, but mechanical. Adara waited until he was almost on top of her, then planted a boot in his groin almost casually. The guy fell like a dropped slab of concrete.
What the hell? That doesn't even count as getting to fight!
The setting changes from Muspell to New Exodia
Zeban Hawk walked through the shady streets of mudspell he needed to recruit someone with some skill. He needed to find another metahuman who ever wanted the weapons was paying very well he could easily afford to hire help and still make a rather large profit. Shadow followed behind him tail wagging hoping to find some new adventure.
He decided to head towards the arena a good start as any maybe there would be some local skill there the fights were over but many people often stuck around. Soon after wading through the alleys he knew so well he was at the entrance. The bouncer was turning people away but when he saw the local gang leader he let him pass shadow following close behind. He weaved through the crowd before stopping at climbing to a small stair case to get a view of the crowd.
Looking out on the crowd he saw a group forming and saw Adara standing over the fallen man. He thought she looked familiar then he remember seeing her in the fights. Then he proceed to scan the crowd.
He decided to head towards the arena a good start as any maybe there would be some local skill there the fights were over but many people often stuck around. Soon after wading through the alleys he knew so well he was at the entrance. The bouncer was turning people away but when he saw the local gang leader he let him pass shadow following close behind. He weaved through the crowd before stopping at climbing to a small stair case to get a view of the crowd.
Looking out on the crowd he saw a group forming and saw Adara standing over the fallen man. He thought she looked familiar then he remember seeing her in the fights. Then he proceed to scan the crowd.
Hugh facepalmed- he had not anticipated a fight so out in the open like this. Weighing his options, he quickly decided that it was in his best interest not to leave his colleague-to-be out to herself. It was discourteous, not to mention very un-chivalrous.
"Let's test the waters a bit..." Hugh pondered, cracking his knuckles.
He casually spun out of Dante's hold, surveying the immediate perimeter. Though it appeared that the big boss had fallen to a rather nasty groin-punch, one of his cohorts was attempting to get the drop on her from behind. Though not near as trained as Adara's most recent victim, this one was concealing a knife, poised to plunge it into Adara's unsuspecting back.
Hugh briskly walked in the direction of Adara, abruptly abouting face just as he passed the assailant. Catching him off-guard, Hugh was able to land a resounding haymaker to the mans jaw. The crowd roared at this new development, completely drowning out the dissaproving groan from the mystery attacker.
Upon decking the mobster, Hugh took his position at Adara's 6 o'clock, facing opposite of her.
"I'm guessing that these weren't the only two thugs," Hugh observed, "Looks like we'll be working together sooner than we thought."
"Let's test the waters a bit..." Hugh pondered, cracking his knuckles.
He casually spun out of Dante's hold, surveying the immediate perimeter. Though it appeared that the big boss had fallen to a rather nasty groin-punch, one of his cohorts was attempting to get the drop on her from behind. Though not near as trained as Adara's most recent victim, this one was concealing a knife, poised to plunge it into Adara's unsuspecting back.
Hugh briskly walked in the direction of Adara, abruptly abouting face just as he passed the assailant. Catching him off-guard, Hugh was able to land a resounding haymaker to the mans jaw. The crowd roared at this new development, completely drowning out the dissaproving groan from the mystery attacker.
Upon decking the mobster, Hugh took his position at Adara's 6 o'clock, facing opposite of her.
"I'm guessing that these weren't the only two thugs," Hugh observed, "Looks like we'll be working together sooner than we thought."
Zeb continued to scan the crowd and the his eyes set upon Scarlett. He saw the giant of a man on the ground convulsing with elericty and her standing over him. Before leaning back against a wall. She seemed like someone who could prove useful to his cause. He dropped down letting his small stature let him weave through the crowd with ease. He didn't want to become a victim to any of these fights.
After he weaved through the crowd leaning against the wall next to her. He was a good 2 inches shorter than her and seemed very intimidating next to her or anyone for that matter. "Good evening Miss, I am Zeban Hawk." He said in a low voice looking around but not making eye contact. "I'll make this brief I require some assistance on a job if your interested we can discuss the details over dinner." He said calmly. He looked over to see shadow emerge from the sea of feet as the dog sat next to where Zeb was standing his ears perked and eyes alert. Then Zeban now feeling safe turned his gaze back to Scarlett leaving Shadow to alert him of any trouble.
After he weaved through the crowd leaning against the wall next to her. He was a good 2 inches shorter than her and seemed very intimidating next to her or anyone for that matter. "Good evening Miss, I am Zeban Hawk." He said in a low voice looking around but not making eye contact. "I'll make this brief I require some assistance on a job if your interested we can discuss the details over dinner." He said calmly. He looked over to see shadow emerge from the sea of feet as the dog sat next to where Zeb was standing his ears perked and eyes alert. Then Zeban now feeling safe turned his gaze back to Scarlett leaving Shadow to alert him of any trouble.
The setting changes from New Exodia to Muspell
Scarlett
I didn't bother glancing up at the boy who'd come to stand beside me. Judging by his rather indiscreet manner and small body size, it seemed likely that he wasn't one of those mindless thugs who enjoyed beating others up. He had a little dog at his feet, a border collie, if I wasn't wrong. I leaned back and listened carefully to him speak.
"Hello, Zeban. About your offer... I might be interested. I might not be. Depends on how much I'll get out of it. You're paying for dinner right?" I spoke casually, smiling at nothing, for no particularly sane reason.
He looked like the typical Muspellian gang leader, and the fact that he was speaking to me probably meant that he was looking to raid someplace and needed superhuman help. Sounded risky, but then again, what sort of raid didn't? I had done raids before and nothing particularly bad happened, other than causing near-fatal injuries to a guard dog and his unfortunate owner. "Where do you wanna go?"
I didn't bother glancing up at the boy who'd come to stand beside me. Judging by his rather indiscreet manner and small body size, it seemed likely that he wasn't one of those mindless thugs who enjoyed beating others up. He had a little dog at his feet, a border collie, if I wasn't wrong. I leaned back and listened carefully to him speak.
"Hello, Zeban. About your offer... I might be interested. I might not be. Depends on how much I'll get out of it. You're paying for dinner right?" I spoke casually, smiling at nothing, for no particularly sane reason.
He looked like the typical Muspellian gang leader, and the fact that he was speaking to me probably meant that he was looking to raid someplace and needed superhuman help. Sounded risky, but then again, what sort of raid didn't? I had done raids before and nothing particularly bad happened, other than causing near-fatal injuries to a guard dog and his unfortunate owner. "Where do you wanna go?"
The setting changes from Muspell to New Exodia
Zeban Listened to her response. It seemed she knew how things worked so he had made the correct choice. "Of course dinner would be on me! I may be a scumbag but a polite one at that." He said with a small chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood. "As for I know a small restaurant where we can talk more privately, and I promise I will you well. But this isn't the time or the place to discuss this." He said. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. Shadow looked up as Zeban gave the mental command to the dog to look and stay ahead of him.
Opening his eyes he watched as the black and white dog scampered off into the crowd. "Follow me if your interested" He said slight smirk, Before setting off into the crowd. He weaved through the crowd heading toward the exit.He looked ahead to catch a glimpse of black and white about 300 yards ahead weaving through the crowd.
Opening his eyes he watched as the black and white dog scampered off into the crowd. "Follow me if your interested" He said slight smirk, Before setting off into the crowd. He weaved through the crowd heading toward the exit.He looked ahead to catch a glimpse of black and white about 300 yards ahead weaving through the crowd.
The setting changes from New Exodia to Muspell
"Well shit, Hugh..." I mumbled, spinning around to see the crowd which were leaving beginning to suddenly form up around the young woman. This suddenly altered the flow of any movement leaving the garage because of the amount of people dumping back into the construct. The flow had performed a perfect one-hundred and eighty degrees leaving the escapees to fight instead of merely meandering out of this challenge.
I turned to watch for a moment. She was hungry for combat more than food, meanwhile, my stomach gnawed on my backbone. Shifting burned a ton of calories in a short period of time and required me to eat more often than most others. It kept me lean and fit, but also left me starving more often than I really wanted to be. I mean, seriously -- what kind of bad-ass walks around with a Nutrigrain bar for some in-between meals snackage? Uh -- none. It surely was gay looking, and I wouldn't have any of that.
I stuffed a hand into my pocket and pulled out a stick of gum from a package of Stride and held the Wintergreen scented pack toward Hugh for an offering. Regardless of whether he wanted one, I stuffed it back in my pocket and unwrapped my piece and began chomping away. Anything is better than nothing. I slipped off around the crowds, watching what seemed to be like a legion of men in suits trying to fight their way into the middle of the crowds. As I passed, I decided to bring on the pain, unleashing the metallic tonfa sticks from their sheathing on my lower back and as I humbly sauntered by -- I gave them a crack in the side of their knee.
Ha.
Dick move; me, one. Them, none. One lunged and only found the ground, with me standing on top of his back, lifting a leg and stomping hard against the back of his skull. The splatter of blood looked like a Rorschach test from his broken nose and he cried, curling up into a fetal position on the ground. It forced a fake yawn and stifled laugh as I peered into the pit at Adara who seemed bored already with the lack of competition they provided.
I turned to watch for a moment. She was hungry for combat more than food, meanwhile, my stomach gnawed on my backbone. Shifting burned a ton of calories in a short period of time and required me to eat more often than most others. It kept me lean and fit, but also left me starving more often than I really wanted to be. I mean, seriously -- what kind of bad-ass walks around with a Nutrigrain bar for some in-between meals snackage? Uh -- none. It surely was gay looking, and I wouldn't have any of that.
I stuffed a hand into my pocket and pulled out a stick of gum from a package of Stride and held the Wintergreen scented pack toward Hugh for an offering. Regardless of whether he wanted one, I stuffed it back in my pocket and unwrapped my piece and began chomping away. Anything is better than nothing. I slipped off around the crowds, watching what seemed to be like a legion of men in suits trying to fight their way into the middle of the crowds. As I passed, I decided to bring on the pain, unleashing the metallic tonfa sticks from their sheathing on my lower back and as I humbly sauntered by -- I gave them a crack in the side of their knee.
Ha.
Dick move; me, one. Them, none. One lunged and only found the ground, with me standing on top of his back, lifting a leg and stomping hard against the back of his skull. The splatter of blood looked like a Rorschach test from his broken nose and he cried, curling up into a fetal position on the ground. It forced a fake yawn and stifled laugh as I peered into the pit at Adara who seemed bored already with the lack of competition they provided.
- 24 posts here • Page 1 of 1
View All »Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.
There are no arcs in this roleplay.
View All » Create New » Quests
There are no quests in this roleplay.
Add Group » View All » 0 Factions to align with
Here's the current leaderboard.
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Game Master Controls
Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.
Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.
Add Quest » Quests
You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.
Add Setting » 4 Settings for your players to play in
Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.
Navigation
While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!
Add Group » 0 Factions to align with
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Collectibles
By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.
Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
Orphanage
By marking a character as abandoned, you can offer them to your players as pre-made character sheets.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in New Exodia: A City Divided. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
No items have been created yet!
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
View All » Add Character » 10 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Garrete Laguigne
A Machinist from Muspell, walking the glass road of deceit and double-crossing.
Virgil
An agent of Vanir Tower, he has willingly traded his sanity for power.
Zeban Hawk
Psionicist who wants equality and to be recognized.
Sir Urvan Ironside
Burly CEO of Ragnarok Inc.
Hugh "Ace" Baselard
Prettyboy Hero of Muspell
Scarlett Wade
Split-personality is a major understatement.
Mishka Mae Ratherm
This character is currently being edited
Adara Vitalos
Pyromaniac with a chip on her shoulder and a love of boxing.
Dante
The Illusionist
Trending
Hugh "Ace" Baselard
Prettyboy Hero of Muspell
Mishka Mae Ratherm
This character is currently being edited
Zeban Hawk
Psionicist who wants equality and to be recognized.
Dante
The Illusionist
Adara Vitalos
Pyromaniac with a chip on her shoulder and a love of boxing.
Virgil
An agent of Vanir Tower, he has willingly traded his sanity for power.
Sir Urvan Ironside
Burly CEO of Ragnarok Inc.
Scarlett Wade
Split-personality is a major understatement.
Garrete Laguigne
A Machinist from Muspell, walking the glass road of deceit and double-crossing.
Most Followed
Hugh "Ace" Baselard
Prettyboy Hero of Muspell
Adara Vitalos
Pyromaniac with a chip on her shoulder and a love of boxing.
Dante
The Illusionist
Sir Urvan Ironside
Burly CEO of Ragnarok Inc.
Mishka Mae Ratherm
This character is currently being edited
Garrete Laguigne
A Machinist from Muspell, walking the glass road of deceit and double-crossing.
Scarlett Wade
Split-personality is a major understatement.
Zeban Hawk
Psionicist who wants equality and to be recognized.
Virgil
An agent of Vanir Tower, he has willingly traded his sanity for power.
View All » Places
13 posts · 3 characters present · last post 2012-07-02 22:40:02 »
New Exodia ↪ Muspell Owner: RolePlayGateway
A powerhouse of industry, Muspell specializes in the harvesting and refining of the vast natural resources that exist underneath the city.
9 posts · 4 characters present · last post 2012-06-22 14:31:26 »
New Exodia Owner: Marlin
A city divided between east and west. Rich and poor. The perfect breeding ground for war.
2 posts · 2 characters present · last post 2012-06-14 21:20:36 »
New Exodia ↪ Nifl Owner: RolePlayGateway
A city of culture and class; known for its ruthless corporate espionage and wealth.
0 posts · 1 characters present · last post 1970-01-01 00:00:00 »
New Exodia ↪ Vanir Tower Owner: RolePlayGateway
Vanir Tower is the home of Vanir Industries, a company as mysterious as it is powerful.
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » New Exodia: A City Divided: Out of Character
Discussions
-
- Topics
- Replies
- Views
- Last post
-
-
Pay Attention to where you're posting.
by Exodyus on Mon Jul 02, 2012 5:44 pm
- 2 Replies
- 345 Views
- Last post by 0neTailedf0x
on Fri Dec 07, 2012 9:02 pm
-
Pay Attention to where you're posting.
-
-
New Exodia: A City Divided
1, 2by Marlin on Sat Jun 09, 2012 5:13 pm
- 38 Replies
- 1178 Views
- Last post by Exodyus
on Wed Jul 04, 2012 8:44 am
-
New Exodia: A City Divided
Most recent OOC posts in New Exodia: A City Divided
There have been no posts in the OOC topic for this roleplay!