The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Boog]

"Sometimes, friendship means doings things based on what someone's done in the past, not what you think they'll do in the future. Isn't that right Styggy?" He knocked twice on the door, and yanked his hand back when his knuckles tried to stick to the the wall. "Yeesh, I hate this part of the building. Personally, I'm all for letting him cool his heels until he gets over himself a bit and stops trying to menace my patrons."

--

"Bollocks," Holic muttered, hearing Andrace fall with a thump without turning around. He finished suturing up another wound on Kaela and injected her with something quickly, then turned to Bart and rolled up his sleeves, "Be a dear and help me lift her back up onto the bed, I hate it when they make me take the big ones..."

[Stygian]

'If your patrons weren't so eager to be menaced, they'd hardly have come here in the first place, you inflated imaginary sack of shoggoth feed!' the voices roared behind the door, Stygian's indignation finally getting the better of him. Some dust fell from the ceiling, and a small line formed in the wall with a dry sound, shooting out from the side of the door. Something dark and wet started forming at the cracks of it, leaking out. The hissing in the air was frantic.
   'Yes, we all know how you care so deeply...!' the thing continued, its voice scathing with spite. 'If you want to take a cheap shot at locking me up, you can well afford to have some balls and say so. And that it certainly isn't out of a concern for what's best for your beloved customers.' The thing beyond paused, its last word stretching out into a silent growl, then seemed to turn its mental attention back to Sylvie, something that was almost palpable to the elf.
   'Open the door, Sylvie,' the voices requested, their tone fillied with determined firmness of the kind that promises to do just about whatever it takes, no matter how horrible or cruel, unless it gets its way. 'If it takes a favor in return on my part, then you can name it here and now, but it is in your best interests to open the bloody door!'

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace's eyes were open, but they didn't seem to be focussing on anything as she lay on the floor where she'd fallen. She twitched and mumbled for a few seconds, then her voice became clearer. It was different, though: faster-paced, and somehow a little higher pitched, than her usual slow, measured bass rumble. The lioness sounded like an excited teenager.

"Yeah, Mum, it hurts a bit. I got 'im, though, did y' see? Did it just like y' said, just a little twist o' th' wrist as y' swing th' club, so when th' spikes whap 'em 'cross th' side o' th' head — splat! Bit messy, though, just look at th' state o' m' fur. An... eww, is that brains slippin' down inside th' front o' m' shirt? ... Ah, shaddap, Irene, y' think y' so smart, sis, you figure out how t' ID th' guy f'r th' bounty..."

Her voice faded again to a vague mutter before trailing away into silence. Andrace seemed to be unconscious, or maybe asleep.

[Tipod]

"Yeah, my cousin 'Stafa there's pretty--" Bart took a moment to flip through some of his more choice photos before noticing that Andrace was bordering the fine line between delerium and consciousness, just catching her toppling over with his peripheral vision. Such was the dilemma of mortal companions. "I got 'er, doc," he grunted as he approached Andrace and got his hands underneath her armpits, easily lifting and transfering her back onto the bed. "Too bad you couldn't hold out longer; how can we argue over whose family's tougher when you're passin' out on the floor?" Still, it wasn't something he could really fault her for. You can roll to a new rhythm, but you can't choose your roots.

"Doc, I gotta ask you somethin': how long's it usually take for you to patch people up? I was hoping I could catch a few drinks with these ladies before it's time to head home."

[Angel]

Sylvie listened to the Boogeyman and Stygian argue, hand twitching a little at her side like she couldn't decide whether to slam the door with it and storm away or yank it open and run for her life. Stygian's threat to her, as well as the changing and multiplying voices speaking for him let her know that he was getting more impatient, and judging from the mild destruction going on around the elf and the thought-being, he was being very honest.

Sylvie Dahl was many things; a pushover wasn't one of them. At his offer of a favor in exchange for freedom, her brain perked up. She wanted safety for the others, of course, partly not to anger the manager and partly for her own ethical standards. But she also wanted to let Stygian know, in at least a small way, the confusion he'd caused her. Of course, what she had in mind might seem a bit melodramatic, and was nowhere near as confusing as what he'd made her feel. But it was the best she could think of right now, and she didn't want to anger him much further...

"I want two things," she said quietly, placing one hand on the side of the doorframe. "One, don't do whatever the hell you did to Piix to her or anyone else again. Two, when you come out, hold still for about 20 seconds."

[Boog]

"Yessss, lets talk about balls. Lets talk about how much of them it takes to threaten little girls. Couldn't find any good elementary schools near you back home? Hey there little fella, want some candy?" Sylvie's declaration, however, stopped Boog mid-rant. He gave her what could only be called a look, "You sure that's what you want to do, kid?"

[Stygian]

There was a long, pensive silence, tinged with acidic suspicion. The voices didn't dignify any of the latter comments with any sort of response, presumably as they didn't deserve any. For Stygian, suspicion and extensive forethought were the norm. When someone faced him with a demand like that, posed so that it was as if it were meant to set him on edge, he could go practically autistic with silently focusing on unraveling the best course of action. The fact that he felt pressed for time, clashing with it all, only made him more aggravated, more introvert.
   'Fine,' the thing conceded at last, and then lapsed into another silence, more reservedly expectant this time.

[Angel]

The elf paused, for about as long as was acceptable given the impatience of the one behind the door and the doubts of the one on her side. She seemed sure of what she thought should be done, but she clearly wasn't going to enjoy it much.

"No," she admitted to Boog. "But I think if we don't, it'll be worse." Then Stygian answered, and at least a little of her fear was allayed. He wasn't going to cause trouble - at least, not the kind she dreaded most. She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or not that he'd agreed to her latter request, but it would feel right, anyway.

Swallowing and relaxing her surprisingly tense shoulders, she put her hand on the knob and opened the door, stepping back a bit and facing the open passage.

[Stygian]

The moment the door opened so much as a few hairs' breadths, there was a low but sudden sound as air seemed to rush backwards. All the crawling darkness, all the dripping horror that had been, instantly slithered back into the cracks, disappearing behind the concrete slab and leaving the corridor in mere gloomy silence once more. The heavy door swung open slowly, not a single other thing moving in the hallway. Then, smoke curled out toward the elf.
   There was the crackle of a hard sole hitting tiny granules of dust or sand on smooth concrete. Then another. Slowly, a figure approached the door from within the blackness. Normally, it would have been eye-strainingly hard to see, but by comparison to the previous lighting, this new normal darkness was a relief. The steps came closer, as did three faintly glowing points, flickering in and out of view.
   Stygian stopped just behind the door frame. In the shadow, he looked about the same, except he was wearing a long jacket and a scarf, and looked like he'd been out in the cold for a while. Steam rose off him, thinner than the long, seeping tendrils of smoke stemming from the half-burnt cigarette-thing in his mouth. When he had a drag on it though, it was evident that what had seemed like just an hour in the bar had been longer for him. His face lit up, revealing darker rings under his eyes than there had been before, his skin looking unhealthy and coarse, thin cracks of black forming at the edges of his temples and around his neck. It was as though those burns he had sustained before had worn off a few layers of his exterior to start showing what was underneath. And those glowing little pinpoints at the heart of the dark caverns he had for eyes certainly hadn't been red when last they saw him. He was holding something under his left arm; a glass jar filled with little black and pinkish red things of some indiscernible nature.
   'Well?' he said, after a couple of moments, standing on the spot. Those blood-colored dots turned Sylvie's way, made clear only by the glow of the cigarette in his mouth.

[Angel]

Sylvie's muscles tensed noticeably when the darkness rushed into the door and left the normal, everyday shadows behind. She hadn't been expecting it to be so quick... She didn't move for a bit, though she noticed the smoke tendril near her.

The slow exit from the closet was more what she'd been expecting. She hadn't really noticed before how dark it was before, focusing more on what was being said than her surroundings. Now, she was almost blind, except for the light coming from Stygian's glowing red eyes (hadn't they been black before?), and the half-cigarette in his mouth. He looked...not unlike his old self, but unhealthier. She didn't want to think about why he couldn't heal, or what the hell was in that jar, or any of it. She hadn't anticipated him looking like this, but it didn't matter.

She walked up to Stygian, setting her staff against a wall for now. Without a word or a hint of what she was going to do, she reached up and took the cigarette out of his mouth. Then, with her other hand, she reached up behind his head, pulled his face closer to hers, closed her eyes and softly kissed him. After a few seconds, her hand withdrew, her eyes opened and she pulled back...only to slap him across the face a moment later.

There was a pause. "I think that about covers what I wanted to say for myself," she said quietly. "The others can speak for themselves." With that, she placed the cigarette in a balanced position on the jar under his arm, picked up her staff, nodded to the Boogeyman, and began to head for the door.

[Boog]

Boog was trying very hard to stifle a laugh. He was succeeding for the most part but, as he turned to watch the girl walk away, he had to bite his lip for a minute before turning back.
"Well? Don't look at me, all you'd get is the second half of that anyway." He chuckled to himself and strolled back down the hallway after the girl, scraping one nail along the wall languidly, "Do try to keep yourself out of trouble this time, Styggy." The concept smirked to himself as he made his way back to the bar. After all, there had been a reason he'd left the door unlocked.

--

"Are you serious? These women are built like tanks made out of stubbornness, I'm amazed the older one hasn't sat up yet," The doctor began seeing to Andrace, poking and prodding to find the fractures and set them straight. "Give it a few minutes."

[Stygian]

Stygian was left standing, looking about as deadpan as anyone could imagine it was possible to pull off in such a situation. Carefully, he reached up with one bandaged hand to touch at his cheek, then looked at his fingers, flexing them, sharp black tips protruding slightly from the frayed cloth. Then he licked his lips, and sneered. He hefted the jar, raising it on one palm and inspecting it and the mottled, half-legible label slapped onto it, shrugging.
   'Fair, I guess,' he said to no one in particular, and stepped out into the corridor, throwing his cigarette butt to the floor and putting it out underfoot. He moved to close the door. Then, sharply, he stopped. He looked around.
   The darkness in the room beyond was so deep as to be impenetrable to normal sight. That only meant that he saw better though, if what he did actually counted for seeing. And yet even he could not perceive the back of the room, nor the walls for that matter. He suspected there weren't any. Not anymore. And now there were... things strewn around everywhere. Which was quite curious. A few moments' pondering and observing brought no more insight into things. But he couldn't feel anything actually moving except far, far away in the pitch blackness, so...
   Sneering, Stygian walked back into the dark for a moment and picked up a deck of cards. He inspected it, then put it in his pocket and slipped out another cigarette, wedging it in the corner of his mouth, leaving the door half open.
   He caught up to Sylvie just after she walked into the bar upstairs, walking past her and giving her a meaningful look as he did. He set the big jar on the counter, earning surprised and suspicious looks from all around. In the relatively clear light it was fairly easy to see what it was filled with; little rock candies of some sort.
   'A present,' he said. 'And while we're still in the swing of things... Has the little fuzzy thing recovered?'

[SpottedKitty]

Andrace had barely twitched a whisker when Bart grabbed hold of her and hoisted her back up onto the bed. When the doctor picked up her roughly bandaged arm, though, and began shifting the crushed wrist bones back into place (properly, instead of the slipshod job she'd done in the middle of the fight), the lioness reacted instantly. All her claws extended, her tail thumped hard against the bed, and she sat up as if levitated, with a high-pitched yowl — high-pitched compared to her normal tone of voice, anyway. Mistaking it for the mating call of a particularly large bull elk would have been perfectly understandable. She leaned further forward, stuck her snout into one of the doctor's lab coat pockets, and was spectacularly and noisily ill. Finally she hiccupped and flopped back like a rag doll on the examination bed, definitely out for the count this time. The half-formed scabs on her muzzle and thigh had torn again with her exertions, and blood from both wounds dripped slowly onto the bed.

[Sunblink]

...Dekuyaketh:

Dekuyaketh nodded in what seemed like acquiescence. He suddenly had the inexplicable craving for a cigarette, for precious nicotine, but he momentarily ignored this compulsive addiction. Instead, he settled for playing with his lighter, like he insisted on keeping his hands occupied.

"A favor? Well shit, fire away," Dekuyaketh said, leaning back, "What kind of favor?"

When Stygian reappeared back into the room, he cringed away almost begrudgingly - he passed a glare to him through his shawl of hair, too surreptitious for him to take any blame for, and growled. The sound was like an infuriated lion.



...Piix:

Somewhere in the infirmary, Piix stirred in what she thought was death. The ascension to consciousness was a lot like paddling through a syrupy, impenetrable quagmire, starting from the underbelly and stroking toward the surface - the process was cumbersome, occasionally feverish, but every successful moment seemed to be rewarded with a glimpse of coherent thought. The sight of the white infirmary walls flashed in Piix's vision as she managed to open her eyes, only to seal away her sight as she closed them - she smelled acrid medicine before her nostrils refused to yield - and that was what compelled her to keep going.

Piix groaned a little. She felt sick, and she had a splitting headache that was far, far too unbearable to be compared to a hangover. She plunged back into darkness, was thrust back to the surface, and kept bobbing between those two spectrums before her consciousness alternated on the borderline. She was awake, but not quite. Like a comatose person who had the potential to be alive, but wasn't just yet.

[Angel]

Had Dani been with Sylvie when she went downstairs, she'd have been doing her best not to clap. Thankfully, that life-threatening situation had been avoided, and she was currently outside, in a very different, only-potentially-life-threatening situation. She was sitting in a circle with the storybook on her lap.

"So....how does this work?" she asked the book. She didn't want to go in and ask Boog how it worked when her exit earlier had been perfect; she would appreciate being able to check up on Sylvie, but she had her heart set on this fight. It occurred to her after a few seconds that maybe opening the book would be a more effective way to challenge it. So, she flipped open to a random picture, set it on the ground in front of her, and stood, propping herself up on the sort-of-a-naginata and being mindful of the bandages on her arm. She felt a little silly, but she and other Reds had done stranger things before than fight something you could kill with an ember.

"All right. I challenge whatever monster you see fit to throw at me to a fight."

-----

Sylvie was just going to walk over to the window and watch Dani fight, thinking that after what she'd just done, there was agood chance Stygian wouldn't want to talk to her. Besides, she'd said what she'd wanted to say already - most of it. However, at his look and the mention of the candy being a present, she stopped and looked. It was too coincidental to be him trying to appeal to her sweet tooth, and the candy didn't look too threatening. Besides, he'd addressed everyone, not just her. Even so, she decided to wait a little before taking one of the sweets, looking out the windows at her friend with the book. She didn't know what was going to happen, but she knew if a book was too dangerous to read in a bar, there had to be a hell of a creature hiding in it.

[Boog]

The pages fluttered, once. The hiss of paper on paper almost seemed to say "How very cordial."
Then things got weird.
In an instant the book shredded along its spine, its pages and cover floating into the air and scattering across the circle. As they hit the edges the circle stretched out wider and wider... At least by the perceptions of those in it. Great masses of earth burst from the ground, rock crumbling off them to reveal the man-made facades beneath. Greenery sprung up beneath her feet, and the pages of the book return and whirled together to form...
A man in coke-bottle glasses and a pocket protector, standing with a slight hunch, looking to be maybe 110 pounds if he was an ounce. The field within the circle had become a suburb, with identical white houses and green lawns stretching out to infinity.
"H-hello." The apperation said to Dani, nervously. "My name is Big Bad."

--

Boog picked up the jar and shook it once, hearing it rattle and quirking one eyebrow. I thought Holic had gotten all the stuff out of there? He shrugged and put it on the shelf behind him. He'd take a closer look later. In the meantime, the girl in the circle warranted his attention. Lets see what she had-
Oh.
Oh crap.

--

"Orrrr it could be a bit..." Holic winced, fetching more bandages. "Here, hold this." He tossed his now-dripping lab coat in Bart's direction, "I've got work to do."

[Stygian]

The Boogeyman had barely set the jar down before something dark and slick whipped out in a blurry, indistinct motion, whisking the large and heavy object from his hands with a speed and lightness that seemed almost cartoonish. Before anyone could catch a glimpse of just exactly what it was, the jar was once again on the counter, as Stygian set it down with the heavy sound of thick glass on hardwood, holding it pinched between his fingers over the top. He shot the thought entity a hard stare, the sharp tips of his fingers clicking against the glass as he removed the lid and placed it on the lacquered surface.
   'Ask, and maybe,' he uttered in a harsh tone. 'I know you have your little problems, but that part about stealing and claiming for your own indiscriminately applies to thoughts only, and barely even that. At least as far as I'm concerned...' He plucked out one of the black-reddish things and popped it into his mouth, then turned his head to glance with some puzzlement at the situation Dani had just gotten herself in, pointedly ignoring the way the red-robed man down the bar suddenly gave him a very short but hard look.
   'Oh,' Stygian uttered, the first few bits of candy rock shredding and crackling between his teeth. 'So that's what it is. Sense of humor, has it?'

- -

For a moment, at just about the time that Dekuyaketh growled, Andrea's face twisted in sympathetic disgust. And then, she half-smirked yet again, something which she momentarily smoothed out to a mere mild sneer. Her eyes locked at the cat-demon's until he could ignore her no more, and was forced to meet her stare.
   'I think you can guess what I have in mind. I also think that you would be kind of eager to help,' she said with insidious suggestiveness, then lowered her voice to a whispering hiss, leaning forward even more. She didn't care how or what he thought she was trying to do by now, since he'd likely have gotten the hang of the main thing, and if he hadn't, then he was probably no good anyway.
   'It would be better to talk in a circle. Too many prying... things, here.'

[Angel]

Dani went straight into a defensive pose when the book tore itself up and started turning into scenery. Huh. Never thought that sentence before. When she lowered her arms and looked, she saw a neighborhood very unlike the one she'd grown up in. Pretty houses, neat lawns - true, there were a -few- houses like that in Rustburg, but none of them looked the same. This wasn't exactly imposing to her, it was just...unexpected that the book would choose this. Then again, that was probably why the book -had- chosen this. As for her opponent...

Really? she thought. She'd worked in a violent criminals facility, and while these kind of guys did show up there every now and then, it always came as a surprise to her. She was too surprised to laugh, thankfully, but the blink was a bit telling. However, she was quick to put that aside, and at least the guy hadn't immediately thrown a punch. She didn't lower her weapon completely, but her stance relaxed enough not to seem hostile.

"Hi. I'm Danielle Sanders, but call me Dani. And apparently, I just challenged you to a fight. So, now might be a good time to lay out terms and conditions." Once again, her smirk seemed to be more out of habit than anything. This was going to be more interesting than she thought...

[Boog]

Big Bad scratched the back of his head, blushing slightly in that manner that's usually accompanied by the thought "Gulp! G-g-girls!" When she mentioned she was there to fight him, though, he brightened up considerably.
"Oh, alright, that's not so bad. Not too many rules though, alright? I mean, I'll try and all, but I'm bad at keeping to rules generally." He grinned sheepishly "Sorry."

--

Boog rolled the question around in his head for a minute, looking it over from every angle, shrugging.
"Not really, no. I wouldn't say it has a sense of humor at all."

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt would have responded with a disgusted snort, and a comment about "what would I do with all the tea in China?", but was interrupted after no more than the start of an admittedly very impressive snort, by the entrance of the hooded figure.

After that, he laid low and nursed his 307 Ale. After all, with the thing behind the bar not behind the bar, it'd have to last him a little while.

And then the little girl wandered out to the circle. He raised one eyebrow, and glanced up at the screens, looking to see which one she was on. Identifying it, he sidled somewhat closer, dragging his drink with him, so he could hear what was going on out there.

At the introduction, he quirked one eyebrow. At the comment about rules, he winced, and then glanced over at the barthing. "No humour, huh. She's really fucked." He shook his head, and took a drink. "You've got to watch for the weedy ones. They're often tougher than they look, and usually have something up their sleeves."

He pondered for a moment, then went on, "Fireplace poker or something like, I reckon. He doesn't look like a wrench to me."

[Stygian]

Grunting something and at the same time somehow producing a peppermint schnapps to go with the candy, Stygian tapped a little tantrum on his knee as he swiveled around, feeling a sharp, yellowing tooth with his tongue in an unnerving way.
'I don't know. Looks more of the type to mess with your ideas of fighting, if you ask me,' he directed toward Witt without actually looking at the squat hedgehog. There was something piercing to his gaze, some comprehension that gave his dark eyes an even more menacing look. Then again, perhaps it was just tension brought on by disgust; the battleground the book had chosen looked like some sort of idiocy to Stygian's darkened perceptions, like the product of an obsessive-compulsive mind, so bright and regular and perfect that it crossed right over into surrealism. 'If this is what all these fights are going to look like...'

Meanwhile, Sahlena's attention had been drawn. She'd been observing from the very moment Sylvie started acting eerily, and even more so when Stygian re-entered, though probabilities and priority calculations meant she just couldn't take her attentions off the newly arrived priestly attendee. She 'had a bad feeling', so to speak. Though, as in the case of most things like that, it wasn't far from plain prejudiced paranoia.
Now though, the machine's interest was drawn to the fight. She started recording, observed for a while, then stood up and approached the bar. Something needed clarifying, in her opinion.
':i thought that the book was supposed to contain... well... ideas, or perhaps archetypes. the Jungian type, you follow?' she said, looking at Boog quizzically. ':what exactly isthis ?'

When he got no immediate answer, and another hint of an uncomfortable mood made its way into the air, Stygian narrowed his eyes, and then looked around at Sylvie. By now he didn't care if he came off as both frightening and overwhelming; whatever expectations of good and kind behavior she had on him had probably vanished, or more accurately been brutally forced out of her by then. He was seriously doubting whether if it was 'good riddance' though.
The twisted-looking man fixed his eyes on Sylvie with such unrelenting determination that it was merely a question of time until she returned the look. Then, he arched an eyebrow at her, and pushed the open jar an inch closer to her.
'I don't expect you to forgive or forget. All that's needed is that you understand,' he said, plainly. 'Talking helps.'

[Tipod]

Bart caught the coat, holding it out at arm's length in his re-soiled hands. "Wait, what the hell're you doin' shovin' your dirty-ass clothes on me? What do I look like, a nurse?" Though if it meant Holic could get down to work on Andrace and Kaela all that much faster, he wasn't in much of a position to complain. "...how long I gotta hold this for, anyway?" The sterilized odor of the med lab and the acrid stench of his former combatants' blood was starting to make him feel uneasy.

[Angel]

Sylvie was watching the screens as well, just as confused about the book's choice as Dani and Witt. What the hedgehog said got her thinking, though. As a female prisoner and a strange-looking one at that, she'd received the same surprised reaction. But true to what Witt said, she too had had an ace in the hole - her magic. It was entirely possible this apparition was also more than it seemed...and if Boog's brief pause when he'd seen the creature was anything to go by, then judging Big Bad outright could lead to death. Relax. Dani's a cop. She'll go with her smarter instincts...I hope. But as she watched the screen, something else caught her attention.

She tried not to look at Stygian. She really did. She had no idea what to say to him after...well, everything. She didn't even think he wanted to talk to her. But the way his eyes burned into her, it was clear she'd thought wrong. She eventually felt so uncomfortable she had to look at him, and the subtly proffered jar of candy. What he said sounded close to comforting, but listening to the words, Sylvie knew he wasn't going to try that. He wanted her to talk, but the elf wasn't sure if he wanted her to understand what he was, or why he'd done what he had when drugged.

"I don't know how Piix is doing," she finally said, in a quiet voice. She didn't reach for the candy, but she did look at Stygian sidelong through a few strands of her hair.

-----

Dani did her best not to blink again at Big Bad's demeanor. He was acting so unlike the monster she'd expected that she was unnerved. Of course, this didn't make her drop her guard. It had just the opposite effect, in fact. On the surface, she looked calm, but in truth, she was tense and waiting for this guy to snap and attack her.

"Right, then. Rules." She propped her weapon against her shoulder now, her stance relaxed but her guard up. "I'm unhappy to say that I was told to try to kill you, but I expect you to try and kill me back or it's not fair. Oh, and there is one...special condition." She looked Big Bad straight in the eye. "You see, I have narcolepsy and can't control when I fall asleep. So if at any point I should fall asleep during the fight, please wake me up before trying to kill me. Killing someone while they can't attack just doesn't seem right, I'm sure you agree." She gave a semi-threatening smile (not entirely intentional), and shifted her stance just a bit. "Agreed?"

[Boog]

Boog smiled at Witt, keeping tight lipped as to details, but had no intention of ignoring Sahlena's question.
"If you mean Jung's personality archetypes, then no. I've met them, and they're a damn bore. These aren't archetypes of personalities so much as things that live in them; phobias, assumptions, particularly commonplace secrets, all that." Boog smiled, "As for ideas, well, it's got those too. Just watch, see if you can pick up on them."

--

"Agreed!" Big Bad grinned like a kid in a candy store. One surrounded by close loved ones giving him money for things. "I was worried it'd be something difficult."
Meanwhile, people were starting to come out of the various houses in the suburbs. Old ladies picking up the paper, kids hopping on their bikes and pedaling away, businessmen walking down to the bus stop.
Big Bad fell back into a stance that looked tailor made to be the most amatuerish boxers stance in the world. His hands were too high, his head was too low, his knees were too bent...
"Whenever you're ready."

--

"Just throw it on the chair." Holic slipped a suturing needle out of one of the built-in pockets on his chest and drew a line of some thin, fiberous thread out from under his tongue. "So," He sighed, getting to work, "How goes, then? What brought you to the honor circle anyway?"

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt snorted, expressively. Addressing Stygian, while still watching the screen, he commented "There's not much to mess with. Fighting is merely an interruption to a decent drink."

He then turned to the thing behind the bar. "Speaking of which, this one's empty." He drained the rest of the bottle, flipped the empty up into the air, fished a coin out of a pocket and slapped it down on the bar, then caught the descending bottle and placed it neatly on the coin. "I reckon there's a catch somewhere, with that." He nodded at the screen. "You wouldn't be as cautious about it if he was all he seemed to be."

He rested one elbow on the bar, and continued to watch Big Bad, Dani, and the screen.

[Sunblink]

For a moment, Dekuyaketh's glare lingered longer than what was socially acceptable on the back of Stygian's head, his gaze wrathful and accusatory all at once. Before he could smolder any longer in his humiliating ineffectualness, Andrea leaned in to grasp his attention. Stiffening, the Demon passed her a somewhat hesitant, skeptical look.

"I would. But I'm not interested in getting killed, or going through what I went through before again," Dekuyaketh explained resentfully. "I don't suppose you have a solution."

That question was answered with Andrea's final hiss. Dekuyaketh's ears flattened apprehensively, and he looked at her penetratingly. He did not trust her, clearly, but the prospect of vengeance was too tantalizing to ignore. If Dekuyaketh had the opportunity to punish Stygian for the turmoil he went through, and had refused it, he would feel even more angry than he already was. After a moment of consideration, he agreed somewhat reluctantly. "Alright," he conceded, and spread his wings slightly. He prepared to envelop them around Andrea and himself, so they could be tucked into an impenetrable, conversational circle. Before he did so, he advised her sharply, "Don't even think of leading me on."

[Stygian]

The man's blood-colored gaze lingered on Sylvie for a short while. Then, he turned his eyes to the floor, and sighed. Well, if that was what she was concerned about...
   'Excuse me for a bit,' he said in a dull tone. He stood up, straightened his collar, then flicked a few of the candy rocks into his hand, crunched one between his teeth, and walked off toward the infirmary.

In her alloted bed at the very back of the infirmary, Piix drowsed in half-slumber behind partly pulled curtains. Glazed, confused eyes stared at the ceiling. Running idle, so to speak. It was the sort of catatonic state that could keep a person laying for weeks, fat and heavy as it ruminated lazily over the little Orin's mind. It didn't stand a chance.
There were a few swift, low thumps of footsteps, and the inevitable angered protest from the other people present. Then, the white curtains were jerked aside, and Piix's vision was filled with the image of slithering blackness and shades of blood and rust, glistening oily muscles and jaws, and yellow teeth, all shuddering and shifting and snapping. Her ears quivered and folded as they were bombarded by a gruesome many-voiced scream with some underlying roaring note to it, and her whole body jerked in reflex, fur and hair standing on end and every tendon tight like a violin string.
The Orin didn't even realize she were sceaming along until Stygian quit, and all those hideous things seemed to fold in on themselves into his face once more, leaving only a fanged grin. Piix kept screaming some more. Then, a salty-sour something popped into her mouth, and the man shut it with a pair of fingers on her chin.
'Good. You're up,' he said.

- -

'Not here!' Andrea hissed, looking at Dekuyaketh as though he were a little boy who'd been caught doing something plainly inappropriate in public. She scowled at him and his wings both, not seeming to be able to decide which she found more conspicuous and infuriating. 'I meant a circle! A circle! I'm challenging you to a fight, damnit!'

- -

The machine seemed to frown, somehow, sitting down on one of the unoccupied stools so that she could turn and watch the fight more efficiently.
':that might be a little harder than you seem to think,' she said, tapping the counter with an alloyed finger. ':i guess it might seem stereotypical, but i'm not very good with the abstract. and since i'm under the impression thatyou've  created these things somehow, or at least that you areresponsible  for them...'

[Angel]

Sylvie watched Stygian as he went into the other room. Contrary to what he thought, that hadn't been an invitation to check on the little alien, nor was it really the reason why she was so stressed out, but it would help her relax a little to know Piix was okay. The rest, she wasn't sure she wanted to bring up in mixed company - but then again, considering where they were, what had gone on, and what was going on right now, it was doubtful anyone cared much.

Then she heard the screams from the infirmary. Her gaze whipped over to the door and she practically jumped up from her seat to run over and see what was wrong.

She saw Stygian, leaning over a terrified-looking Piix and holding her jaw shut, a grin fixed to his face.

The elf blinked. "I didn't even directly ask you to check on her and you scare the crap out of her?" It was the first thing she'd said at a normal volume since she'd been threatened. True, she looked angry, flushed, and surprised, but at the very least, she was out of her depressed stupor.

-----

Dani couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow up at the amateur stance Big Bad took. But hey, if it was a beating he wanted, he'd found one. Besides, it would be kind of fun to watch if the little suburbanites in this dystopia-for-Reds would react to her, a crazy-looking, strong, agile prison guard, attacking this harmless, skinny target who clearly was at a physical disadvantage.

"Okay then," she said, taking an offensive stance with her weapon, then quickly running in low and fast to slice at the man's gut.

[Boog]

"Very astute," Boog said, setting out Witt's drink, "Honestly, the damn thing was pretty dangerous before I made him into that." He turned back to Sahlena, "Yes, I created them, although admittedly if I was all THAT responsible for them I wouldn't be serving my community service in this dive. Suffice to say that some things are better considered in either the abstract or very, very concrete rules that I probably don't have time to explain all of."

--

As soon as the Red started running, Big Bad shifted position. Rather than standing like a boxer he simply stood as if waiting for the bus. Arms at his sides, slight hunch, for all the world perfectly calm. When Dani finally swung he turned, sidestepped the charge by a narrow margin and stepped in, getting too close for the glaive to be swung effectively against him. A machette was in his hand, one that Dani was almost CERTAIN he hadn't been holding a minute ago, already slashing at neck-height past her own weapon.
Big Bad smiled. In the distance, something howled.

[Stygian]

Leaned over the little alien on the sickbed, Stygian turned his face toward Sylvie in an almost nonchalantly calm fashion. He stretched out a hand, and held up a single clawed index finger.
'Ah,' he said, 'But now she is awake.' He straightened, smirking somewhat, patting Piix on the head as he did and depositing the remaining candy rocks on a little tray on the stand next to her, flipping a last one into the air and catching it behind sharp teeth. He didn't wait until he cracked it, splitting it into a myriad fragments of taste with a disconcertingly clear crunch. He put his other hand in a pocket and strolled a few steps away from the bed.
'I think you ought to calm down and have a thinker, sweets,' he said after a brief pause. 'I can't make people better,' he continued. 'I can affect them, that's true. I can change them. But if you merely want healing...' He shrugged.