The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Sunblink]

Blushing intensely with embarrassment, Dekuyaketh quickly withdrew his wings and straightened his posture, leaping out of his chair. "Sorry," he said with excessive sharpness, perhaps all-too-eager to cover up his social mistranslation. "Let's go, then. Do you have an arena in mind?"

---

Piix's incomprehensible screaming was cut short by those fingers pinning her muzzle shut; her pinprick pupils darted back and forth, from Sylvie to Stygian and back to Sylvie and returning to Stygian, her gaze uncharacteristically timid and frightful. While she didn't remember what had incapacitated her, she sure as hell knew who was responsible. Eventually, she forced herself to swallow the morsel cradled in her mouth, then retched as Stygian relinquished her mouth, as though the treat was impregnated with a vile poison. Piix's paws fastened around her sheets; she tensed like she was going to lash out and strike Stygian across the forearm, but before she could counter he turned away. He deposited a tray of suspicious, yet inexplicably enticing candies on her bedside table. Poisoned or not, they looked rather appetizing, even if Piix hadn't registered the taste of the force-fed sweet.

He conversationally continued to talk to Sylvie, who Piix had already (mentally) designated as "That green hussie" and "Stygian's accomplice." For some reason, she felt irrationally offended that he was ignoring her.

"HOLD IT!" Piix shouted, "WHAT THE FUCK d' ya think yer doing!? Ya try to STRANGLE me and then walk off like... like..."

She stammered, struggling to hold the next word, or recover her train of thought. The flavor of the candy had registered on her tongue.

[Angel]

When a well-trained person is in a fight, their thoughts are very detailed, very fast, and are more often plucked from pure instinct than rational thinking. Thankfully for Dani, this meant that not only did her surprise about Big Bad's quickness fade once she realized surprise would only hinder her, it faded in a matter of seconds. He had gotten too close for her to slice at him accurately, that was true, but that didn't mean she couldn't attack him at all.

Rather than letting her head get cut off, she slumped lower and shoved his legs with her shoulders. Of course, there wasn't much she could do to block the machete, but if she could disrupt his attack and move fast enough away, it might be enough...

-----

Sylvie seethed quite a bit at Stygian as he beatifically smirked at her and treated Piix as if he hadn't just scared the hell out of her and had simply jostled the alien awake.

Sylvie took a few steps closer to the man, half-ignoring Piix's angry yells. "I didn't ask you to heal her, or affect her, or any of that. You had no excuse to do what you did, unless you're actually trying to make me hate you; why I don't hate you yet is becoming more and more of a mystery to me, so I guess you're succ-"

At that point, the Green stopped. Piix had gone silent in the middle of her own tirade. She looked over to see the Orin lost for words, and looking a bit...lost. The elf's brows drew together, and she walked past Stygian to Piix's bed. "What's wrong?" She looked over at Stygian, then back at Piix again, then at the candy. She was smart enough not to taste any, but she picked up one of the little rocks and looked at it, rolling it between her fingertips and examining it before looking back at Piix.

[Boog]

The apparation was momentarily surprised by Dani's reaction time, and missed his swing with the machete. Big Bad took two staggering steps and continued, moving with the shove and letting it take him back outside of the reach of the Red's glaive as she barreled by. His hand came up, pointing a revolver at Dani. The machete had vanished somewhere, presumably back to wherever he'd drawn it from.

[Sunblink]

What's wrong? Piix seemed to be utterly deaf to Sylvie's inquiry; she glanced numbly around the room, pupils contracted into tiny, luminescent slits that appeared inherently ghastly against her black sclera and flared golden irises. For a second, she looked like she had no idea why she was there, momentarily bereft of memory, before she returned her attention to her hand and admired the claws encrusting each finger, like she had never seen them before. Inexplicably, she giggled. A crooked smile branched across her muzzle, nicely brandishing her pearly teeth.

"Ooh... ooh, these are..." Piix leaned to the side and immediately snatched up the candies that Stygian had generously left. Tipping her head back, she tossed the handful into her mouth, chewed them to a fine powder with one tremendous mastication, and swallowed impressively. Once she straightened, the look on her face had exacerbated; she looked absolutely intoxicated, yet inherently sinister in spite of her incoherence. "These are GOOD!"

Piix leaned across the sheets of her bed, grinning widely. Her bioluminescent gaze was rather disturbing to behold, accompanied as it was with her wide and toothy beartrap-grin and her almost delirious expression. "Got any MORE, sweet stuff?" she asked Stygian expectantly, "Do ya? Huh? Do ya? Otherwise I just might EAT YOUR LITTLE FRIEND UP." One assessing look at Sylvie and Piix keeled over, cackling loudly and uproariously, the sound almost wretched.

[Tipod]

Bart half-assedly tossed the dripping coat onto the chair's back, shaking the excess fluids from his hands before walking back to the sink. Stupid re-dirtying. "Not much. Long and short of it, my grandpa said I was too stupid and soft to take on anything tougher than a man. I said that was bullshit, so he sent me here to get it on with some freaks." Being one himself, of course. "Not sure if I really won that match, but... well, I'm not the one bleedin' all over the floor here."

But he was nothing special compared to most of the inhabitants, and he knew it. "...I dunno, I should prob'ly leave you alone if you're patchin' 'em up." In honesty, the smell of antiseptic was still making his head and stomach ache. "Don't need me gettin' in your way."

[Stygian]

'Uh-huh...' was Stygian's only response for a while, together with a raised eyebrow and a slow nod, and then a narrow-eyed look toward Sylvie. This was quickly exchanged though, in his typical mercurial manner, for a toothy grin. He reached out and placed his wickedly shaped, cloth-wrapped hand on the alien's head, ruffling her warning-colored hair and fur. When he turned to the elf once more, he did so with a mere half-smile, the muted result of control applied to a self-satisfied smirk. A few thoughts about poetic justice and points of view tiptoed through his mind for a moment, before he adopted a well-moderated tone of voice and went on.
   'Don't mind. It's probably the shock. As I said, I can affect people...' he commented next, giving Piix a bothered little glance that he let linger. 'I do apologize for what happened before, but I can only stress that it was an accident,' he continued, and then a slight note of sharpness entered his speech. 'Please don't incur any more, if you catch my drift?'
   Before the Orin could respond though, Stygian decided to take his hand away from behind her ear, and stick it down into a pocket, assuming an expression of neutrality once more. It was a little awkward, petting her like that, regardless of how much she resembled an animal. Sighing, he began strolling off back toward the bar, apparently forgetting to regard Sylvie anymore by mere chance. Though, of course, he really just ignored her because at this point, she'd have to come to him with any more remarks. Insecurity and social awkwardness could make it so much easier to go on the defensive sometimes...

- -

Sahlena's cameras whirred and flickered, adjusting, panning and zooming. Part of her processor just stopped and put things on playback, analyzing while the rest passively recorded the progression of the fight for the main programs to get on with later. Just what had happened there right in the middle?
   If there is anything that machines take badly to, it is inaccuracies. Naturally, there really isn't much of a difference between mechanical and biological things when you look at it from a particular perspective, other than a matter of structures and redundancies. But since even those machines that aren't too simple to have said redundancies are often quite capable of much more consciously and precisely narrowing down the tiny irregularities than normal organic creatures, none tend to react too well to said occurrences.
   Before part of Sahlena's inner vision, an image flickered past at camera-shutter speeds, back and forth, back and forth, passing through filters and focusing programs, again and again. This went on for a couple of seconds, during which she managed to perform quite a few operations. First, the machete was there, then - Flick! - it wasn't.
   Without turning toward the Boogeyman, the machine directed her voice toward him, twanging with criticism.
   ':that doesn't make any sense at all,' she said plainly. ':and why the Hell is his name "Big Bad"?!'

- -

Waving a hand in a gesture as disinterested in conveying its disinterest as the disinterest it was meant to convey, Andrea stood up and brushed past Dekuyaketh's right wing, circling the table in the direction of the exit out toward the circles.
   'I don't know, and frankly it doesn't matter. We don't have to fight that seriously, do we?' she said, her voice so nonchalant that it was getting hard to believe. 'Just somewhere. Fancy the city or somewhere out open? If you don't have an opinion, I'll just try and pick something neutral...'

[Angel]

Sylvie could only watch with eyes not wide in fear, but pure, unbiased bewilderment - at least until the coment about getting eaten, when she blinked, then scowled in a way that suggested she had to remind herself that tying the alien down with grass and thornbush branches and letting her stay there for an hour or so would contradict her yelling at Stygian earlier for tormenting her.

In regards to the latter, he apparently had nothing to say about all this. No explanation of Piix's behavior, no explanation about why he'd done what he had, not even anger about the Green's outburst earlier. It didn't seem purposeful, but that didn't mean Sylvie was going to leave this issue alone. If he thought she was too scared to talk about it because of her earlier reactions to certain events,... well, he of all people should know that this was much less scary than, say, having someone turn into a monster when they took offense to something you said. Hell, any reaction beyond bewilderment and telling someone what was going on was overreacting in this situation.

She looked at Piix with some worry and confusion, and offered the girl a shrug before leaving her to her devices. She walked back out into the bar after Stygian, knowing that a threatening look and tone would only hinder any progress on finding things out (and on other things of which she wasn't consciously aware), but not wanting to act friendly just yet either. So she spoke without grabbing his shoulder or stopping him, but directing her words at him either way.

"Since I'm guessing you're the one to ask, you mind telling me what the hell that was?"

---

Dani fell and rolled when Big Bad backed up, having more slammed into the idea than charged him in the hope that she'd be able to pin him down and slice his throat or something. This gave her a second or two to think: DAMN, he's fast! And where the hell did he get that knife from!

She stopped herself on her hand and pushed up, meeting eyes with the barrel of a gun. Rather than waste any time doing a slow smirk or some other stupid dramatic move that could give him time, she did the only thing that would work. She put her right fist into her left hand and cracked her knuckles.

(thump)Squeak.

The Red blinked. Something small, gray, and fuzzy was blocking her view of Big Bad's face.

(thump)Squeak.

And another one was now next to her. On closer examination, it was a squirrel. She heard another thumpsqueak. And another. And now there were more....

It's raining squirrels.

...

Hallelujah.

[Stygian]

Halfway out the door, Stygian stopped as the elf spoke, and turned to the side to look at her. He didn't have to stop, of course, but to send a clear enough message he felt like he had to face her.
   'So now you've got this idea that you can't take anything at face value when I'm around, am I right?' he said, in a tone so devoid of emotional undertones or hidden inflections that it stung. 'I don't know whether if I should be aggravated or depressed.'
   He made another turn, walking on toward the now more lively bar a few steps, before he stopped as if he'd thought of something more to say just then.
   'Just what exactly are you asking? 'Cause I have no idea,' he prompted. Despite his near-blank expression, the gaze he gave her could have been used as a torture device for its accusatory solidity.

[Angel]

It wasn't that Sylvie wasn't still angry and confused about all this, but when Stygian faced her with no emotions at all, she felt a little surprised and hurt. And now, curious at -why- she still felt surprised and hurt when, considering everything that had happened, she should feel as emotionless toward Stygian as he was acting towards her. But if she wanted a direct answer, she had to be direct in the first place, at least with him.

"No idea?" she said, her eyes a little wide, and betraying only a little of her inner emotions. "Funny you should mention that, because that's pretty much the exact summary of what I feel or should feel for you and everything you do. Well, maybe that's not right; I have no clue what Piix did to deserve that in there, so unless I hear a reason, I'm going to have to assume that that candy messed her up worse than what you already did to her, and you're as horrible as you said you are. By the way, why the hell would you show interest in someone and then tell them that having interest in you is dangerous? I don't know about other girls, but I don't like playing games when the odds are so high and the dealer is trying to trick me." It seemed there was a little more to what she was saying than the present, the way she spoke...

[Stygian]

With every word uttered by the elf, Stygian's eyes narrowed another tiny distance, until he was truly glaring at her, though most of his face save his brow remained the same, now a hostile, stony mask. A tendon at his neck tensed for a second somewhere in the middle.
   'Once again, too much rambling and too little thought. Are you ever going to stop with that?' he replied half a heartbeat after she silenced, his words almost spat at her, sharp as a gunshot. 'She poisoned me and caused me a real mess. A little scare after that, just to get her up, is less than she deserves.' Then, he shifted his stance, gave the elf another sharp, silent stare, then hindered her from saying more.
   'As for that other thing, I'm not the one playing apparently without knowing the stakes. I'm not the one faffing about as though there weren't any stakes in the first place, in fact. You don't like it when the odds are high? Then you fold, and make damn sure the dealer sees you do it. You want to bluff? Then you just play on calmly, because you're not getting away with it otherwise. Either way, you've got to make a decision. You don't just sit about and piss off the other players.'
   Stopping sharply, Stygian turned his face away from her for a moment, making a face of disgust. He was saying too much, saying the wrong things. He had to make a point, or do something that would get to her, otherwise it would just be ranting. He sighed, and drew a deep breath. The words came quickly.
   'You don't even know what your interest is and you haven't taken a stance for yourself, so you have no idea what to do with me. And so you go about fumbling and criticizing, because you just don't know any better. It ticks me off!' He turned his gaze toward her once more. 'At least I'm being sincere. And I know what I sincerely want with you right now...'
   Turning toward her again, the man positively stalked over to Sylvie, looming over her as he stopped inches away from her and arced his neck, staring her down, red points glowing within the shaded depths of his eyes.
   'I challenge you. No holds barred this time; we fight until either of us drops. The winner gets to ask anything of the loser,' he hissed, gaze drilling holes in her eyes. 'And you can set yourself up with whatever advantage or handicap you need to even things out, if you think that will help with your insecurity.'

[Angel]

A little surprised by Stygian's outburst, but not much, Sylvie stood her ground as he explained his side of the story with Piix, called her bluff(s), and challenged her to another fight. The hair on the back of her neck bristled in slight fear as well as anger and indignation. What he'd said had hit home, it seemed, in several ways, not all of them known to the Green herself yet. How could he expect her to be clear about her feelings when he'd made it so damned easy NOT to be clear on whether he could be trusted or not? Not to mention the whole drugged-up episode, regardless of whose fault it was, had messed up her thoughts even more. And as for another fight, the very idea of accepting those terms made her shiver on the inside. How, after what she'd been afraid would happen in her own fight, could she accept this one knowing that what he'd been nice enough to avoid then he wouldn't be so keen on n-

A pause. A spark in her eyes. A sense of purpose. No smile.

"Fine," she said, almost sounding like she didn't care about the way he'd read her and thrown her own mind in her face. Almost. She walked calmly over to her seat at the bar, grabbed her staff, and began heading for the door. He'd said no holds barred to a mage who didn't have a reason to be kind to him once they stepped in the circle. Oh, she wasn't going to kill him; she'd experienced that, in a small way, and didn't want to repeat it. But she wasn't going to keep from trying.

[Cogidubnus]

The musician, apparently asleep, shifted in his chair. Lids drew back over milky white eyes slowly, the orbs filmy and strange looking as the panther woke up. His feet, bare, were propped up on the table in front of him, his guitar resting in his lap. His ears flicked, and as soon as a sour expression covered his face, a half grin replaced it.

"I used to work in Chicago, at a con-ven-ience store," he sang, his voice his only instrument. "I used to work in in Chicago, I did, but I don't anymore~ A lady walked in with Chartreuse skin, and I asked what she came in for - "Licker", she said, and licker I did, and I don't, work there, anymore~"

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt accepted his new drink, and kept watching the scrap on the screen. He raised an eyebrow at the machete, then blinked when the revolver appeared. "Okay, that's slick."

And then the squirrels started falling. "That's... new."

He took a drink, then choked on it as the musician at one of the tables chipped in a commentary. He raised his bottle in that direction, and took another drink, then returned his gaze to the screen.

((I kinda want to join in on the music, if only because that particular ditty amuses the heck out of me, but Witt couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, and has about as much sense of musical timing as a fish has wings...))

[Stygian]

Following Sylvie without a word, Stygian fell into step five paces behind the green. His hands moved smoothly and expertly in well-practiced motions, a cigarette slipping out from the back of a hand, immediately finding itself wedged in the corner of his mouth and lit by a flick of silver. Next, he checked the insides of both the sides of his jacket, little clinking noises and the sounds of smooth metal on metal, of polished steel pieces locking together. Was he jingling as he walked...?
   Stepping out onto the stone-paved yard outside, Stygian passed the Green with a sideways glance, stony and set, removing his hands from the inside of his jacket and straightening it. He flexed one hand's fingers, gripping and adjusting the black wrappings around the equally black flesh, the leather of a fingerless glove creaking audibly as he clenched his fist. He stopped to a halt and turned with a scrape of rough soles, waiting.

- -

The red-cloaked man at the bar, distracted from puzzled observation of certain proceedings, set down his empty glass, and then heard the quavering rhyme in the background. He blinked, then laughed. His gaze turned toward Linos.

[Angel]

Sylvie met Stygian's eyes for the briefest of moments when he passed her by, her gaze uncustomarily emotionless as well. She already knew where she wanted to go, and as she was the one challenged, she didn't see any point in giving him a big advantage. The moment her bare green foot stepped into the Circle, the environment spread around them, and things sprouted, grew, and changed...

It felt warmer. Not boiling hot, but pleasant and almost rejuvenating. The sun overhead was bright, revealing that it was about noon and showing every detail of the clearing around the two combatants. It was a small, open area, right in the middle of a lush, beautiful forest. There was a clear freshwater pond off to one side, little green bushes and patches of violets or daisies in some areas, and surrounding them, towering like a protective fortress wall against the outside world, impressive and leafy trees stood. It was completely free of the cold iron hands of industry, and indeed seemed to have stood its ground against time itself.

"Ah, it's good to be home," said the elf at last, looking much happier on familiar ground regardless of the circumstances. Truthfully, this wasn't her home but an area near the village where many Greens went when they needed time alone with themselves. It had been one of Sylvie's favorite places, and seeing it again calmed her. A small smile was almost on her lips as she surveyed the pretty area, but came close to totally fading when she remembered where she really was. She looked back at Stygian. "So, any rules you want to set in place besides what we already agreed to?" Her fingers clenched on her staff, and her muscles tensed just the slightest bit.

[Stygian]

A glade. The harsh sunlight appeared in a blur and stung Stygian's eyes, and he instantly felt too warm. Going from biting chill to the full onset of summer in half an hour put anyone's sense of temperature off, regardless of their disposition, and as what the elf seemed to feel to be a pleasant temperature put the man to sweating even without factoring in the sun, he felt discomfort prickling at his temper. The air was almost painfully clear and sharp as he breathed in and sighed, readying to lose his jacket. Did he have any sunglasses on him?
   'Nothing,' he said stilly. A bloody glade. Of course there were the trees toward the sides, but leafy foliage surprisingly didn't make for good midday cover. He had shadows where he could lose her in toward the trees, but considering what she'd done in their earlier fight and the thick carpet of grass beneath and all around him, and the good fifty paces to the nearest thick vegetation or stone he could use for cover, he wouldn't get five steps. Not that one should have anticipated that taking cover would be much use anyway. Maybe she could even use the vegetation to track him when she could neither see nor hear him, what did he know? No, the key would be going on the offensive right off, and so extensively and quickly and in such a flashy manner that she would not catch up...
   'Whenever you're ready, my dear,' he muttered. 'Women and saplings first.'
   The first cigarette butt that the fat, rich earth had ever felt landed on the grass, and was promptly smothered by a thick, callous sole. Nonchalantly yet pronouncedly and sharply, as if it were out of spite for the clear air and the purity of the surroundings, Stygian reached into an inner pocket and brought out a slender brass-colored lighter, biting down on a cigarette that came out in the same movement, which he lit quickly, fouling the air with a couple of first puffs.

[Boog]

(thumpthump)Squeak.
A squirrel struck Big Bad's arm and bounced off onto the unfeeling asphalt. Another knocked his glasses askew. The apparation's face took on a worried cast, similar to that of a tax accountant who, after having spent all night working on getting their client's papers in order, asks said client if they remembered to sign everything, prompting a reply of "err..." It is the face of one who has heard one of the great machines that run day to day existence go "ping-CLUNK" and knows that they're the one who will probably have to get in there with a screwdriver and fix it.
First though, he should probably shoot this girl in the face.
Big Bad fired, but another unfortunate (thump)Squeak threw his shot wide. There was a faint, strange echo to his revolver. Like the baying of a hunting dog, or the yipping of coyotes on the attack. Realizing that he probably couldn't aim too reliably in a hail of squirrels he gave yet more ground, angling toward one of the houses to find cover and line up a proper shot.

--

"What, that he's better considered in the abstract?" Boog laughed, "Come now, computer girl. You're smart, you'll figure it out. As for his name, well..." His smile downgraded into a smirk that stretched his face to accomadate it, "You know what they say about names, mon cherie. Can't just hand them out everywhere. Too dangerous. But tell you what, if the girl doesn't figure out why he's called that, I'll let you in on the secret."

[Cogidubnus]

 Linos turned his head quite sharply towards the man in red, shifting on his chair so that he was sitting down, instead of resting his feet on the table. His neck cracked as he tilted his head this way and that, and surprisingly for a blind man caught the red-cloak's gaze.
"Yes? Who are you?"

[Tipod]

Bart grumbled to himself as he walked back to the bar, his eyes peeled for the few acquaintances he'd made. The bartender and robot lady were busy with... something important, no doubt. Pestering them would be unwise. But the unpleasant little hedgehog man was just sitting and drinking at the bar, and out the corner of his peripheral vision, he caught Keaton's anti-camoflague of a fur pattern. He felt equally tempted to bug either one of them. ...Spikey hasn't been much for small talk. Maybe the dog and her rat-thing make better chat.

He walked over slowly, muttering a quiet "play Free Bird" and tossing a quarter onto the table as he passed Linos. Approaching Keaton's booth, he placed a hand on the top and looked down at the jackal with simple, friendly smile. "So, having fun yet?" He felt tempted to ask "how's your head," but reminding her of the drinking contest probably wouldn't get a very cheerful response. "...uh, don't mind the jacket stains. This place doesn't have a laundromat, far as I can figure out."

[Angel]

Sylvie's lip twitched a bit with contempt when the cigarette butt landed on what, to her, was close to a sacred ground. Then again, she supposed, if she felt so strongly about this place she shouldn't have chosen it as a battlefield. But Stygian smothering one cancerous paper-stick under his boot, only to light up another in HER clean, pure home... it seemed a little too spiteful of him for her to handle. Not to mention that the presence of the lighter gave her a slight twinge. Just a sligh one, nowhere near as bad as, say, a live ember on the ground, but it was there.

He allowed her the first move, something she wasn't about to squander a second time. "Suit yourself," she said, stepping back a bit and meeting his eyes dead-on. Then her eyes dropped a bit, and one hand quickly raised toward the ground as she whispered a spell and her hands and the ground around her feet began to glow green with energy. In no time flat, two huge, thorned vines were growing out of the ground and beginning to wrap around Stygian's neck. Oddly nough, her other hand stayed at her side, still charged, but not with the same sort of charge her fist had had when she'd punched Andrea...

---

Dani didn't have time to be relieved that Big Bad's aim had been put off by a squirrel, nor to think about the health of the little critter who'd bounced off him to save her. No, she had bigger things on her mind, like how to get to the porch when her gambit was now backfiring just a bit by surrounding her with cute gray fuzzy things skittering around and making it hard to run to the door where her opponent was headed.

"Oh, like hell!" Dani shouted as Big Bad ran for cover. She darted after him, ducking out of the way of falling rodents and choking up on the glaive to aim better and make running easier. She readied the blade against her arm, dull-edge on her skin, to aim a slash at whatever limb of his she had a clear shot at first.

[Stygian]

No time flat seemed rather a lot of time for someone like Styg though. Mainly because he'd started by twisting the top of the lighter clockwise a bit the moment she so much as blinked. No time flat could be counted in several milliseconds, which was quite enough for him to close the lighter, push the top, and flick it toward the elf with a lazy motion of a wrist and two fingers. His hands continued in a smooth, almost delicate manner, one set of claws slashing upward, the other reaching under his jacket. The lighter kept on spinning through the air for about half a second more.
   A red gleam flashed off the little metal flicker for a fraction of a moment, and then the air literally exploded into a swelling black cloud, stinging and sizzling as it swept forward, choking a good chunk of the glade with some sort of oily smoke. The foul stuff held itself aloft in the air, obscuring nearly all vision past it. But not enough that Sylvie didn't see the figure emerging from the back, raising a hand holding something long and slender and menacingly mechanical toward her, walking calmly and steadily forward.
   Almost at the forefront of the cloud now, little pinpricks of glowing red sizzled at the heart of each of Stygian's eyes, as he took aim. She could really only go back toward the trees, or face him head on...

- -

The man didn't flinch, but seemed a little taken aback either way. He hadn't expected such... tension. Well, maybe that was the reason he didn't get out as often...
   'Nobody, really. Just a fellow appreciator of music,' the man said distantly, while turning and swiveling his head around a bit, studying Linos' reaction. Those eyes really were rather unnerving. Well, not the eyes in themselves, he'd seen worse. But the stare...
   'No chance of being able to challenge people musically, I reckon? No?' he ventured, looking aside at Boog a bit, then scratched the side of his neck. With his skin, this was enough to make observers shiver. 'In that case, play something hot. This place is a little low.' He smirked. 'I'll buy you a drink or two in return.'

[Angel]

Sylvie saw the lighter, but she didn't have time to think about being scared of the fire that might be heading for her before a cloud of something that smelled toxic and made her eyes water exploded in her face. She coughed and wiped her eyes quickly, the smell and the abrupt change from clean, open air more bothersome than any way that the smoke might affect her body. But as the freshwater tears dripped out of her eyes and she became used to the haze, the first things she saw were two red pinpoints of light and the silhouette of something metal, modern and deadly...

She stepped a bit back, looking as though she might in fact run to the trees. But as she retreated, she uttered a spell under her breath, and vines with thorns as long as letter openers grew quickly up the length of her staff. Once that was done, she rushed forward, bringing the staff down onto the man's hand and praying to Albell that she'd have enough time to defend herself...

[Stygian]

Stygian saw the motion clearly. Swinging the gun and parrying the blow, he shifted his stance, and braced himself. His other hand came out from within his jacket, with another lighter in a tight grip. The metallic, flicking sound as the reddish-golden lid was opened was muffled by the saturated air, a smell like ash and burnt methanol and paint varnish thick all around. He swiped the staff out of the way again, stepping closer to Sylvie with a fiendish grin, one that could have caused heart attacks together with those eyes of his. There was no cigarette in the corner of his mouth anymore.
   '"I am the Lord of Hellfire,"' he laughed, holding the elf's staff down by the barrel of his gun. Something crackled at his feet. '"And I bring you...!"' He flicked a spark from the lighter, and blurred as he drew what shadow he could together around him.
   The ball of flame expanded outward from the now thoroughly oxygen-rich mixture, rushing outward into a rough half-sphere of fierce heat and a shockwave that tore Sylvie off her feet and flung her a good distance backwards. Little rocks and lumps of charcoaled substance that had been grass or bits of dirt launched outward, cinders that fell in warm and dry vegetation starting new fires of their own. The flames stood high and almost crimson for a while, as their fuel combusted, turning instead into ash and deep red, acrid vapors. Then they were snuffed out by their own pressure, dispersing around the humanoid figure standing still amid them, still grinning.
   Stygian's boots crunched on the charred remains of plants as he walked forward, two small imprints of unharmed grass where he had previously stood. 'I'll have to remember to thank the hedgehog for the idea,' he sneered, smoothly and efficiently pulling a second long, metallic black revolver from within his jacket, a few particles of soot dust falling off him, the only apparent sign he'd been in the conflagration at all. He was humming, she realized. Singing.
   'Like corn in a field I cut you down~...' she caught, before some chuckling. 'Did I throw the last punch too hard?' Slowly, he approached, gently raising one slim black shape with careful precision, like a craftsman about to attempt a particularly sensitive yet rewarding task.
   'You make me feel like a bullet, honey~...'

- -

The machine tapped her fingers on the countertop, then slapped her palm down on it gently and shrugged. Something from within her frame whirred for a moment, sounding almost like a sigh.
   ':i can't say i can see a connection. i mean, if the speculations up until now were all wrong,' she muttered, then knuckled the lacquered wood for another drink and deposited a pair of coins on top of it. ':maybe it's just experience from where i come from, but the ability to apparently materialize weapons doesn't stand out that much to me. not enough to earn somebody such a fancy cliché of a nominer...'

[Boog]

Boog's grin broadened. "You're right, it's not. So what is it?" He propped up his chin on his knuckles and tried in vain to stop smiling. Yes, he'd created monsters. Set them loose upon worlds to wreck havoc before they and he were captured and sent to the circle. Yes, a girl who he had no reason to dislike was fighting one of them for her life.
But LORD, was it satisfying to see his creations put to use.
Boog set out Sahlena's drink and toned the grin down a notch. "In all honesty, he hasn't properly shown the cause of it yet. And the symbolism's a bit convoluted. Not my most readily comprehendable work, but it makes sense once you know."

--

Big Bad fired off two more shots behind him, more covering fire to keep the girl at bay. He whirled around as he finally stepped onto the porch and attempted to line up a better shot before the girl got to him. Both hands gripped the firearm, one finger squeezed the trigger...

[Angel]

Sylvie's eyes widened as her strike was parried and another lighter was produced. Was he pulling them from nowhere simply because of her fear, or had he planned this out earlier? It was a good thing she didn't have a heartbeat either way, otherwise it would have jumped every time she saw one of those plastic containers of instant death. But as she looked at Stygian, she realized that at his face, she would have actually had a heart attack. He was grinning at her like even though she didn't have blood, he wanted to rip out her heart and lick it clean while she watched just for the satisfaction it would give him. He gripped her staff, and she nearly winced, thinking he was going to pull her close like last time.

She didn't recognize the quote he used, but it didn't matter. The moment he finished, a fireball exploded between them, causing a huge shockwave and sending her through the air. She landed and opened her eyes, only to gasp at the small fires starting and spreading all around her home. Those awful, red-orange tongues of destruction devouring her favorite place so quickly...She scrambled backwards and was getting up to run, but at that moment the flames just stopped. And standing amid them, with a nonchalant, sadistically amused grin, was Stygian.

The elf's fear faded bit by bit as he approached her, and swiftly she turned to anger and annoyance. That he exploited her fear was acceptable, but to destroy part of her home, even if it wasn't real, and act so calm as he was about to shoot her - wait, was he actually...singing, about that?

Sylvie's eyes narrowed as she pushed herself up so she was fully standing. For a moment, it seemed like she was using her hand (the one that had been glowing since the beginning of the fight) to balance herself, but her fingertips were touching too lightly. As he slowly aimed at her with his other gun, she muttered a few eldritch words quietly, and her skin began to...change. Over the smooth light green flesh grew a hard, slightly flaky, light brown material. Soon, the armor-like stuff was covering her entire body, even beneath her clothes and around her face.

Stygian's bullet was going to have to go through about a half-inch of bark before it hurt the girl.

And she wasn't done. There was always the chance he'd try another fire attack. She planted the end of her staff on the ground, saying nothing, but charging the soil with plant magic. Then she smirked at Stygian, and sang softly in reply.

"You're gonna need an ocean...of cala-mine lotion...." Vines sprouted up in between the two fighters and around Stygian's legs. "You'll be scratchin' like a hound..." Her voice picked up, and she swung her staff up like a bo staff on the last line. "The minute you start to mess around!"

[Stygian]

The crackling sound from beneath him and the feeling of the ground shifting tipped Stygian off immediately, and he hissed as he ripped his feet from the vines and threw himself to the side and rolled. Sharp cracks echoed between the trees as he fired away, inaccurately as he was moving but still sharply, the bullets sizzling through the air. Curving a path over the blasted ground, his steps smoothed out with perfect balance, his movements evening out and his muscles tightening up like springs. He was building momentum.
   At the end of the lazy curve, with half-empty magazines, Stygian exploded up into the air. He tumbled over slowly in a high arc, one of his pistols disappearing into a holster within his jacket, and then stretched his hand. The black, pointed tips that ended his fingers extended a few inches, sharpening, and then he came full around. Eyes focused on the elf, he plummeted in a long, roundhouse swipe, cracking the ground as his boots stamped down. Certainly not expecting that to be the end of it, he swept the barrel of the gun in his left hand up again, watching for motion anywhere in his sun-blurred field of vision.
   'No place for hidin baby, no place to run,' he sang in a gravelly and slightly exerted voice. That he could sing so well considering the situation was surprising. 'You pull the trigger of my...!'
   The end of that slim, black barrel spewed flame.

[SpottedKitty]

On her examination bed in the infirmary, Andrace twitched. Her slow, steady breathing hiccupped, then she snorted and blinked her eyes open. The lioness sat up, and prodded warily at the top of her muzzle and her left thigh, where her most serious — or at least, most messy and painful, injuries had been. She nodded in satisfaction as she couldn't even smell any blood on her fur, then held her hands up and twisted and flexed her wrists. Good, not a twinge. She swung her paws off the bed, stood up, and performed a stretch that involved every muscle in her body, from her ears to her tail-tip. Even better, no lingering stiffness. She felt completely sober, though: have to do something about that. With a curious glance at the furry little yellow/black critter who appeared to be having quiet hysterics in the corner, she grabbed her backpack and rummaged around inside for fresh clothes.

When Andrace reappeared in the main room a few minutes later, she was wearing a rather more colourful ensemble than before; trousers with thin turquoise pinstripes, a soft shirt with a frilly laced front in contrasting quarters of purple and rusty brown, and a black leather belt over the shirt decorated with thumbnail-sized glass studs coloured like precious gems. She had a mischievous little smile on her muzzle as she padded silently on bare paws along the bar until she stood right behind Bart. The lioness snuggled herself pneumatically against his back, and grinned over his shoulder at Keaton. She wrapped her arms round his chest and laid her claws playfully against his throat. "Hi there, Bart," she purred huskily, her whiskers almost brushing his right ear, "guess who's back?"

[Cogidubnus]

The panther smiled languidly. "Something hot?" he paused to consider, tilting his head just slightly. "There are many kinds of heat...but I suppose I can."

He plucked a string. An advantage to having clawed hands - you didn't need a pick, although you had to be careful about breaking strings. But it had been a long time since this particular musician had broken even one.
It was a quiet note, barely noticeable, and yet heard by every person in attendance. A whisper in the ear. The panther closed his eyes and smiled.

A few distant notes, quickly, and echoing. The sound of the desert, of places desolate and forgotten, where there is neither cloud nor star but only the eternal sun, and the endless blue sky, the sound somehow conjuring an image of the dry places where blood once ran freer than water, a brown wasteland of a different age. He plucked the strings, instead of strumming - and played, a song of yearning and tension. There is something sinister in the notes, a promise that the desolation will not remain so forever.
The distance closes, the clusters of notes coming closer together. Soon, the tone changes: the pace quickens, the blood runs hotter, and one cannot help but think of the smell of smoke - the sweet smell of tobacco, and the acrid smell of gunpowder - and the image of a gunfight. One cannot help but grin, and feel the chill rise up through one's spine as one's heart fills with bloodlust, the drama of the moment - and yet, merely the drama of the music. His pace again quickens, and he smiles yet wider.

He opened one milky eye to look at the man in Red.

[Angel]

Sylvie almost growled as Stygian ripped himself free, switching to an offensive stance and dodging the not-quite-well-aimed bullets. One of them grazed past her hair, and she shivered a bit as she ducked away. When the gunshots stopped, she turned to face Stygian - and saw the jump. Like before, it was far too high and had far more power behind it than a normal human should have. Hell, it was more than an above-average human, too. Even if he wasn't turning dark like before, he was strong enough for his limitations not to matter.

She backed away from the landing, still facing Stygian as he sang some unfamiliar tune. But while she was turned towards him, her eyes were on the black gun. She had never actually seen a gunshot this close before, and it had never really occurred to her just how close the propelling force for a bullet was to that thing she feared most. Maybe it was because of all the fire she'd seen already that day, or maybe it was the adrenaline rush, but whatever it was, it was clear that the flash was enough to set something more off than just the bullet.

Sylvie let out something between a gasp and a short scream and dove off to the side, not remembering to roll. She hissed a bit when her wrists braced against her impact, but the hissing sounded a bit like it was covering something up. Then her voice grew a bit in volume, and the hissing quality ended.

"Oh such grace... oh such beauty... so precious, suspicious, and charming, and vicious," the elf sang, as something snuck along the ground to Stygian. "Oh darlin'...you're a million ways to be cruel!"

From the ground, like something from the Viet Cong, or a video game, spiked branches tore through the ground in front of Stygian, sharp and deadly and unlike anything a forest usually had.

---

Dani dodged the shots, though one did graze her arm a bit. Thankfully, it didn't scrape her very much, as that was the arm she'd pulled back to swing at Big Bad once she got close enough. As she rushed ahead, she saw that Big Bad had stopped, and was readying another shot. Not quite close enough to swing at him yet, the Red pulled her non-blade-holding hand up to her chest, and used her thumb to snap one knuckle.

There was a rumble beneath Big Bad's feet, like an earthquake, but with something more to it. Then, there was a rushing noise, and a few seconds later, a geyser spouted up beneath the idea's feet. And though it was completely wrong to do so in a fight, being both a bad idea and slightly more disrespectful than usual, the sight was just too funny. Dani slowed her run, looked on in amazement for a moment, and then cracked up, hands on her knees and a huge grin on her face as she laughed.

[Stygian]

Stygian took the time to stand up and smirk when he watched the elf throw herself away, apparently stumbling. She was not used to dealing with people up close, that much was for sure. From the way she hung on Dani then, or vice versa, it was quite possible that she was far more used to simply fighting in the company of others, as backup. What abilities of hers he had seen so far had certainly been specific and precise enough to work to that purpose.
   Stygian sneered. He knew he was guilty of having some fairly plain deficiencies in his own combat abilities, at least when taking into perspective what he could be capable of doing if he didn't have certain limitations, but as a singular fighter who knew to rely on himself and only himself, he had learned many ways to try and compensate for that. The handguns were just an expression of this. If the elf's weakness was that evident and considerable...
   He didn't get any further in his reasoning. She was still close to the ground, still capable of manipulating all those damnable plants. Spears of hard, sinewy roots shot out at him and he just remembered not to throw himself back over onto his palms as he was still holding a gun. Instead, he vaulted to the side onto his open palm in a free hand-flip, dodging the tips by inches. Quickly on his feet again though, he threw himself forward, though the expression fails to describe the true nature of the motion. He merely threw himself in the same way that a swordfish merely swims, or a peregrine falcon merely dives. It was a deceptively relaxed motion, once in progress, but the deep treads left by his boots in the ground and the sheer speed clearly hinted at the force behind it. Arched forward, he bared his fangs in a vicious grin, stretching out his fist and readying to flip over once more if she dodged, aiming for her stomach.