The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Dekari]

"Oh really."  Dekari said getting into a slightly more comfortable sitting position on the ground with his hands behind his back.  Blood slowly dripping from his right wrist and seeping into the ground as another circle of runes formed conveniently out of sight of Citrine.  "Same exact spells you say.  On all accounts that actually disturbs me more than anything, well, for one of them more than the other.  Now, for my transmute ability that doesn't disturbed me very much, however I would like to know what these people are using as a catalyst to start the sub-molecular transformation process seeing as magic alone doesn't work when you get into the more complex transmutations such as dirt to steel."  He paused motioning towards the metal spike jutting out of the ground.  "That and a magic induced transformation isn't permanent.  Getting back to the subject of the catalyst, I can tell you now that they are not using Twilight Dragon blood, which for all purposes is the best catalyst your going to find due to it being heavily saturated with ethereal energies.  And as far as I know, the Twilight race doesn't exist outside of my home universe."

The look on Dekari's face slowly changed from calm to aggravated.  "Now, if you are to have me believe that you have actually seen, and lived to talk about, a possibly stronger version of what I'll refer to as Void Lightning, then I demand you tell me the names of the people using it so that I can have a 'chat' with them.  No race, mortal or immortal, should EVER mess with void energies...they don't understand the risks involved.  There is a race of creatures that live in the void and wait for someone foolish enough to break the seal between their universe and the void so that they can pour through wreaking death and destruction across that entire universe until the is nothing left but more void."

"Anyway.  Enough of the conveniently lengthy and distracting lectures.  Lets get back to what's at hand."  Dekari said as the stood up and brushed off his pants.  "It wasn't my intent to scare you with my 'fancy sorcery'.  Nah, far from it.  I was going for more of a distraction."  He finished as he pointed to what looked like a silhouette of himself standing several feet behind Citrine readying an attack.

"Well, here's an interesting situation.  Is this another distraction, or..." Dekaris voice trailed off as another voice identical to his picked up from the silhouette.

"Or am I actually back here."  The silhouette said.

"Decisions, decisions.  So, what will it be?  Am I real and that over there fake?"  Dekari asked with a grin.

"Or am I real and that guy over there fake?"  The silhouette questioned.

"Maybe we are both real."  Both Dekari and the silhouette said in unison.

"Hey what about this one, what if neither of us is real?  What if none of this is real and it's just all in your head?"  Dekari said with an excited look on his face.

"Yeah, I didn't think of that one.  Maybe you are just wondering around the ring like a mindless fool attacking something that isn't there while I'm just laughing my ass of having a good ol' time."  The silhouette finished.

Both Dekari and the silhouette laughed for a moment.  "So, balls in your court.  Will you come after and risk getting attacked from behind?"  Dekari asked.

"Or will you come after me and again, risk getting attacked from behind?"  The silhouette asked.

"Or are you just going to stand there and risk getting attacked from both sides?"  Both asked in unison.

[Arroyo Milori]

Citrine shrugged at Dakari's response. "No matter what kind of magic your able to use, your still unskilled. It shows in your lack of a decent defense." Citrine's ear soon twitched slightly at the clone's voice from behind and stands sideways, one on each side of her.

"Doppelgangers huh...what kind of trickery are you using in this? Perhaps portals to make it appear that there are more than one? No...I can't see the wormholes so that rules it out. Perhaps your just running around fast or maybe your manipulating the Brocken spectre. No matter, two against one is fair enough for me."

She soon went low and swirled around in a 360, her foot dragging around in the circle many time. The dirt from the ground soon creating a dust cloud that made it impossible for ether Dakari to see each other through. Her eyes were shut closed and her senses heightened. "Well lets see which of the theories are correct. Though Science is not a friend of mine but it does become a decent ally in a fight."

[Dekari]

"Man, you're no fun.  But if you must know I don't normally find a need for defense.  I actually more like to be offensive."  Dekari said with a smirk.

"Ha.  I get it."  The silhouette laughed.

"Oh, and I if you don't move from where you are then I think science is going to become much less of a friend to you.  Ever wondered what 80 pounds of Cyclotrimethylene trinitramine would do if detonated while encased in solid rock?"  Asked with an almost psychotic grin on his face as the silhouette exploded in a thunderous concussion sending shards of rock everywhere.

[Arroyo Milori]

Citrine soon dashed out to the side of smoke and goes head on to the silhouette. "Got ya!" She smiled as she figured out who was the real Dakari out of the two, dodging the larger rocks but letting the small rocks graze her fur. She dashed towards Dakari after the rocks landed and exploded. She soon started to throw punches left and right, throwing a surprise kick in the barrage. "Very. Reckless, to leave yourself exposed."

[SpottedKitty]

Despina thrust her arms forward and grunted with the effort of blocking Witt's attack. Splinters flew in all directions, some bouncing off her shield, as her staff knocked more chunks out of the table. This was getting ridiculous, she thought, she wasn't tiring yet, but the hedgehog still looked fresh as a daisy, as if he could carry on like this all day. A simple bludgeoning wouldn't knock her shield down, but a neverending attack would eventually leave her worn out and defenceless. The stool came thrusting towards her stomach again: she'd almost decided to take the impact on the shield this time when she noticed Witt shifting his balance, as if the foot she couldn't see was...

Almost in time, she skipped sideways half a pace, so the kick and stamp that might have come in under the edge of her shield and broken her shin or crushed the delicate bones in her paw only left a bloody scrape down the side of her hock. It hurt, though, and she snarled as she threw herself into a sideways roll. Despina wasn't the strongest of her siblings; that honour went to either Andrace or Mitri, whichever of them had last beaten the other at arm-wrestling. But even Irene had to agree she was more than just as stubborn as a mule, she could kick like one. In the middle of the roll, her uninjured leg shot out, aiming to hammer her paw, toes spread and claws extended, several inches south of Witt's belt buckle.

Just as she finished her tumble and rolled back to her feet, her guts gave advance warning of something hideous that was about to happen.

Thrrrrrrrrrrrrppp-p-p-p.

Across the room, the fake Andrace winced and pulled a sliver of the broken bottle out of one of her favourite parts of her anatomy. She looked up at the sound of a loud thump, just in time to see a huge green-skinned critter come flying straight at her. She dodged as best she could, escaping with only a thump across the shoulder from a flailing leg. She growled, grabbed hold of the green critter's foot, and swung him round, sending him tumbling (if not actually flying through the air) more-or-less back towards the Demon. The lioness grabbed an unclaimed chair and charged after her loudly protesting missile, fangs bared, claws ready, and taking a deep breath for another bloodthirsty roar.

Back in the real bar, the real Andrace put one hand over her eyes and quietly muttered "oh no, not again..."

[Lisky]

Bas's eye's widened for a second in sheer surprise.  He was fairly big, but she was bigger... however a being did NOT just go charging straight for a demon, even if it was a harmless bar brawl.  The shock waved off as the man slid across the bar floor and almost tripped the demon.  His hand found purchase on a table, which he then spun on it's side, then shoved it a few feet forward.  This was all much to the dismay of the attendant of the table, until a steel-hard wing belted him like a baseball bat, clean across the face.  Knocking him to the ground in a dazed state Bas followed in up with a heel swipe to the Jaeger's ribs for extra assurance that he'd stay down.

Bas planted a foot on the table as the green skin slammed face first into the heavy wooden surface.  Suddenly Bas felt the wood start to creek under the pressure of his foot.  By the time he was bracing himself too hard, the base shattered, and the demon stared at Andrace's charging form with a dumbstruck look on his face as the tabletop rolled out of the way.  With that, he hardened his skin to maximum and came back at Andrace with a full on shoulder charge, trying to deliver a brutally powerful elbow to her gut.

[Stygian]

Outside the door downstairs, things were piling up. Crates and boxes filled with items stood stacked outside the heavy slab that passed for a door as it hung on its hinges wide open. There hadn't been much time, but Stygian had been able to find a few things he thought he could make something of even while searching for something new to wear. The tattered rags he'd worn had been emptied of particular objects and then reduced to a neat pile of ash in a corner.
  Pitiful creature. They're all the same. A box was relieved of the weight of some sort of cinema equipment and what looked like an alien ming vase, and pried open with an careless, ungentle grip. It was full of exotic-looking mechanics, carefully packaged in bubble wrapping and sawdust. All the same. Either they don't know remotely how to value things or they don't even understand enough to care about anything but toys and appearances. He spotted something that looked familiar, and rounded a couple of coat racks and a Roman frieze stood on end against a jet engine. Moving the dim circlet of flame that hovered above him closer, he smirked unfeelingly as he examined the steel briefcase, and then snapped its locks open. Despicable selfishness, without concern or control. Would have expected more from someone non-human... Black satin, synthetic cloth and fiber-weave shimmered in his vision. Convenient. The whole bar was convenient, both in matters of time and occurrence. So it would probably fit first try, or be close enough that he could adjust it himself. Now he just had to find the gear and details to go with it. Was it a sign of some cosmic humor that it had been robes he had found on the first attempt? She'd probably try and snare me in if there were any sort of pressure, but I guess that for someone possibly ageless who can live on sunlight that's nothing that can force realization or responsibility on her either. Bloody piece of overintelligent broccoli...
  Things clanged and rasped on, and more assorted boxes and items were stacked outside. Already, someone would be able to set up a combined machine shop and antiquary with the things piled up. Perhaps someone was even intending to.

- -

The door to the infirmary did not creak, but managed a pretty good raspy hiss that passed for something similar, and gave the clear indication that someone was entering the room, trying to be silent while not actually being so inaudible as to possibly cause surprise or awkwardness. Sahlena's metal fingers gently clicked and slid on the doorhandle as she cautiously entered, and then pushed the door closed behind her with a little whiffing sound of air from the tight seal. She watched the elf sitting slumped on the bed for a couple of seconds, and then cautiously approached. It was all too clear what had happened.
  ':/listen...' she began, in as much of a sotto voce as she could manage, ':whatever he said or did, I don't think he meant it.' She placed a hand on the end of the gurney, leaning on her arm. ':he... doesn't work like that. he doesn't say or do things for himself. he doesn't do things because he wants to. he just can't see anything else to do. you have to understand; he's in a lot of pain, so he lashes out at people...' Very cautiously, she tried to raise the tone of her voice, attempting to convey the meaning that some things were just stupid and that one couldn't do much but ignore them, and that maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

[SpottedKitty]

The fake Andrace's toothy grin widened as she saw the canine Demon charging to meet her. Unfortunately, she noticed a moment too late what else he was doing, and ran full-tilt into his elbow. She coughed and folded up, her eyes bugged out and all the wind knocked out of her. Something went ping. The lioness tumbled over the Demon's shoulder and crashed face-down onto a table, demolishing it completely. She began to stagger unsteadily to her feet, before the biggest chunk of wreckage tumbled back down and smacked her in the back of the head.

"Ooh, birdies..." she mumbled, her eyes crossing and her tail-tuft fluffed out. Then she toppled forward and sprawled in the middle of the shattered table, out cold, with her rump sticking up in the air. Behind the lioness, a pair of torn and slightly bloodstained trousers draped elegantly over the Demon's outstretched arm. A small button, of a type commonly used by tailors to make a tail-fly on Being-sized trousers, bounced on the floor near his feet.

Back in the real bar, Andrace had apparently perfected the art of curling up in embarrassment while sitting on a barstool.

[Lisky]

In the real bar, Bas snickered as it seemed his doppelganger had taken the prize.  The curled ball of embarrassment, perched on the bar stool only furthered the satisfaction Bas felt.  With the fight seemingly over, Bas turned his attention 100% back to Keaton.

In the fake bar, 'Bas' slammed into Andrace, flipped her over, and grinned triumphantly at the lucky blow.  He watched her, clearly not wanting to end the brawl just yet.  However, she seemed down for the count as she lay sprawled, and pants-less on the floor.  

He found the ripped and bloodied pants draped over his shoulder, and a button at his toe.  Keeping watch for others around him, his hand shimmered, and was suddenly enshrouded with a black, glossy mist, he ran the hand along the fabric, reattaching broken strands, and replacing the broken button.  Covering up Andrace with the now mended pants, he placed his hand, still shimmering, across her forehead, applying some healing magic to fix the various blood vessels and relieve the excess pressure from the bump on her head.  

He smirked as he said, "wakey wakey..."

[Dekari]

The kick caught Dekari off guard after a successful right hook to his once again bloodied face, one of a hand full of hits that made it through his dodges and parries.  He shut his eyes hard in pain, lowered his head, and bit his lower lip.  Staggering a few steps back from Citrine, Dekari leaned forward and put his hands on his knees, legs pushed tightly together.  "Mother fffff.........god, and here I pegged you as being above cheap shots."  Dekari paused for a moment.  "Man, guess I should be glade that I was created sterile, other wise I might have more issues with you than just causing me pain."  He finished as he righted himself with a grunt of pain and placed his hands on his hips.

Dekari took a few steps to one side then turned around and took a few more while looking at the sky.  "There we go, there's the endorphins kicking in."  He said with a bit of a sigh before turning his gaze back to Citrine.  "I guess I should almost thank you.  I haven't had this kind of a high in a long time."  When Dekari finished he took a running leap at Citrine, knocking her to the ground.  Dekaris right knee was on her chest, his hands on her shoulders, and blood slowly dripped from his face to hers.  "Now then, allow me to let you in on a bit of a secret."  He paused as he leaned down, putting his muzzle near her ear.  "If I had actually been reading your mind this whole time, do you truly believe you would have survived this long, or even landed that kick?  True I can hear your thoughts and sift through some of your short term memory with little to no effort.  I just decide to not pay attention most of the time."  He backed off as he finished to observe her reaction.  "Figured we would keep this fair."

[Arroyo Milori]

"In Muay Thai, there is no belt you can't hit under. So it's fair. " She chuckled, then suddenly got caught off guard from the pounce. 'Sh-shit.' She had no other choice but to listen to him, even though she was uninterested in what he said. But as soon as he lets her go, she spun around on the floor, delivering a swift sweep kick, followed by a quick recovery to stand up.

"Like I care if you read my mind or not. There are many ways to keep perverts like you away from my mind. Besides..." Citrine wiped the blood off of her face with her fist. "What kind of bad guy plays fair?"

[Dekari]

"Gee, with the amount of times you have put me on my back, you do it any more and I'm going to start getting some ideas and think you are doing it on purpose."  Dekari said looking up at Citrine from the ground with a sly and insinuating look on his face before all her words registered in his mind.  A moment passed as he propped himself up off the ground with an elbow, the look on his face changed to one of confusion as looked at Citrine with his head slightly to one side.  "Bad guy?  Wait, what do you mean bad guy?  True I may not be a 'nice' guy, but I'm sure as hell not some bad guy.  I like to think of myself more as a middle guy.  When the opportunities present themselves, I do what needs to be done when everyone else is too scared to do it themselves.  Although, some of those opportunities involve me getting paid large sums of money....but that's besides the point."

[Angel]

As soon as Dani heard Big Bad getting more and more upset, she knew she'd hit home with something she'd said to him. She didn't know precisely what, but having been trained to read emotions and know what they indicated, it was all too obvious that something had touched a nerve. The weapon changing back and forth made it even clearer, but now all she had to do was make sure he wasn't the type to get dangerous when he got ma-

And then the soccer mom was in his place. Just like the old man. Only now, the concept didn't waste time.

"GET DOWN!" Dani shouted to the woman, pulling her down instinctively. She didn't care if the woman was just a hologram, no one innocent was going to die as long as she was around. The shots fired, and clipped Dani's shoulder as she fell. She hissed, and stood back up, stooped enough to avoid another shot and her legs tense and ready to take her sprinting for cover herself at a moment's notice.

"My, what a sneaky attack strategy you have," she echoed, a pained smirk still there. "So, it was a she, hm? How'd she end up freeing you, then?" As she spoke, she edged steadily closer to the house, hopefully just enough to be imperceptible.

---

Back in the infirmary, Sylvie hadn't stopped sobbing since Stygian had left. She'd kept herself almost composed while he had spoken to her, though she had broken down for a bit while he caused that awful feeling in her. To know that that was what he was feeling... to know she was the cause of it... to know that by confessing that she liked him, all she had done was hurt him more... that paralyzing, stomach-turning misery was too much for her to handle. She was amazed she had kept herself quiet enough to hear what he'd said to her, and that had only emphasized the feeling. Even now, her sobs of pain, regret, and pity were hushed. She didn't want anyone to come in and see her like this.

Apparently, though, her efforts had been in vain, or perhaps Stygian leaving the room had made it all too obvious. She heard the door open, and knew from the footsteps that it wasn't Stygian again. She quickly wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, only a little surprised to see who it was.

"There's n-no way he didn't mean that feeling..." she said, still trying her hardest to keep calm. "I just don't understand...I told him the reasons why I'm not sure. Can't he see that?" The elf wasn't just rambling at this point, she genuinely couldn't see why he didn't see how much she cared. Sure, she was confused and unsure, but she'd just explained that to him. Why did he expect so much of her? On one hand, it was flattering, but on the other, it was stressful. He himself had approached more than one girl in the bar; why was she labeled the one who couldn't dedicate herself?

She sighed and looked up at Sal. "I don't know what I want to do anymore. He's confusing me more than ever."

[Stygian]

The cloth flowed smoothly as it slid neatly onto Stygian's shoulder over the straps and locks and the tight synthetic undermesh. He snapped a last clasp into place, and then straightened up, feeling the robe's familiar weight and form settle. It seemed much too heavy for just cloth, even accounting for the extra reinforcement for protection woven into it. His hands fumbled around in a pocket, and stopped as they encountered something slim and smooth. He took out the metal case, and opened it carefully, watching the contents gleam. The monocle-watch dropped into an inner pocket. The pen likewise. The cuff links slipped easily into place. The polished cigarette case... Too damn convenient. But at least some things I will have to work for, he thought, as he felt the other objects of metal in his pocket when he stuffed the case back down. And other things I have to work around.
  A drop of something hit his shoe. Stygian looked down. On the golden symbol to the side of his chest, woven into the overcloth of the robe attire's jacket piece, there were a couple of spots of red. He raised his freshly healed hand, feeling the minute coolness of the liquid on his hand, and rubbed his fingers together. To his keen senses, a pronounced coppery scent rose up clearly in the air. But his skin, though rough, was perfectly untouched.
  There's no such thing as a wound that doesn't heal! he snarled in his thoughts, a pang of anger striking him. Then, confusion as to who he was angry with. It lasted all of a millisecond.
  I deserve it, he thought bitterly, wedging a slim roll into the corner of his mouth. It lit all on its own. And it deserves me.
  Trailing fumes, eyes sizzling, he ascended back up to the bar.

- -

The machine seemed genuinely stumped for a moment. She'd expected some sort of anger or reluctance, but not for the elf to actually confide in her. Chalk it up to desperation, she supposed. She hadn't thought something so elegant and inhuman as the elf could look haggard, but both the feature recognition firmware attached to her optical analyzer and what she hadn't been able to tag with any other definition than 'gut feeling' told her that the elf was looking positively harassed.
  ':i wouldn't know. i can mostly only suspect things when it comes to him,' the machine said. ':and definitely not the best of things. but if it's not...'
  The machine stopped, looked at the elf as questioningly as she could with her stiff mechanical features for a moment, and then eased herself around and took a seat up on the other bed, looking at her squarely. She was fantastically good at the body language and little sounds to make up her lack of facial expressiveness; Sylvie surmised that she was about to say something a bit uncomfortable and shameful several seconds before she did.
  ':i overheard, alright?' she said, guilty admission in her voice. ':it's hard not to when you've got my sort of hearing and you know it's better for you if you listen in. and what you said was... well, wrong.' She made a gesture with a hand. ':i know that it sounds awful that this whole thing might just have been about words, but... i've heard him talk about love and things before, and, well... he thinks that since people's reality is based on their perception you have to figure out their principles...'
  The machine stopped. Then, again, she managed to hint at something very effectively even before it came out. Her shoulders began to shake a bit, her odd voice ringing in an uncertain way, before it broke out into a short burst of laughter.
  ':you know, if you're going to take advice about matters of the heart,' the machine said, still with a snerk in her scratchy voice, 'you should endeavor to find someone who actually has one next time.' She sighed, then put a chromatic chin in a solid hand, leaning forward on a knee.
  ':i can't say more than i have, really,' she continued in a matter-of-factly voice. ':he thinks in principles and definitions. he calculates. he's clumsy like that. that's why he doesn't stop hurting others,' she explained, turning her head to look somewhere far off. ':and why he won't stop hurting you. i don't think he gives a damn what you actually do, if he imagines he's got you figured out. if he thinks you're the type to harm him, then he'll break your arms if you so much as try and give him a hug. and if he doesn't trust you, you're not going to change that.' The machine shook her head slightly. ':which is why you should seriously leave it be and find someone else. assuming of course that you don't already have someone. can't see that much reason why you should feel so guilty otherwise.'
  There was just a hint of a question in Sahlena's last statement. It was something that made the conversation start to sound a bit uneasy.

- -

There was not a sound from Stygian's shoes as he re-entered the bar, just the slight squeak of the door as it closed behind him. And if it weren't for the cigarette and the evil in his stare, one might have taken him for a clergyman. Either that or some kind of military officer; the smooth black robe he wore suggested both rolled into one. It was, in fact, quite similar to the deep red one worn by the man who had gone off to fight the guitarist panther, decorated with the same circle cross on the wide left side of the thick stole-like hanging that lay over his shoulders, topped off with some sort of golden lines on the shoulder and a couple of gold-embroidered markings. Brassy gold details hinted subtly under the sateen fabric, particularly a golden chain hanging over his chest where the dress was open to reveal some sort of skin-tight glistening and synthetic cloth parted into sections. Not saying a word, the man sat down on a stool, cast a glance at the fight in the illusory bar, and then tapped the counter twice.

[Arroyo Milori]

Citrine scoffed in response. "Maybe you should appear as a bad guy then, maybe then people won't get the wrong idea." Her brain was thinking carefully about his first remark before ranting on how misunderstood he was. Then something clicked, she figured out what he meant from his remark.

She walks over to him casually and looks down at him. She then slaps his face, though it felt more like a punch but with a bit more of a sting to it, and then kicks him hard in the jaw. "You sick man!" Citrine hated a lot of things, but what she hated the most were perverts.

[Boog]

Boog set out Stygian's drink, not looking away from the barfight. He was squinting. The particularly observant would notice his eyes tracing the arc through the air of a particular splinter of chair. Something had him enraptured.
"So... The banging noises in the basement. Nothing gonna blow up?" The question was distracted, something he wasn't devoting his full attention to...

--

"You know something funny about cops? You look like you're made of steel until someone shoots you. Until someone shoots BACK. Then you just sort of fold up, sad little crumpled things like anyone else's body." He'd moved again, now he was firing from a DIFFERENT house, trying to pin Dani down. Get a good angle on her... "In many ways you've got it worse. We're all in the deep dark woods, it could always come from anywhere, from anyONE, but you're the only ones stupid enough to go looking for it!"

--

Richard flinched at Citrine and Dekari's fight. "Girl's got issues." He swigged another beer and looked over at Marya, who was mock-punching along with her double in the illusionary barfight...
The dead man gave a rattling sigh and looked over at Andrace. "If it make you feel any better, your sister isn't doing half bad."

[Dekari]

Dekari pushed himself up to a sitting position.  He grabbed his lower jaw with his hand and moved it to one side then quickly snapped it to the other side with a muffled pop.  "Ow"  He quietly grunted rubbing the side of his face where Citrines kick hit.  "Man, can't take a joke for nothing.  You really need to learn to lighten up some."

A moment later he stood up and let out a sigh as his thoughts began to drift.  "Heh, funny what kind of memories can be brought back during a fight."  He said as he turned his gaze towards Citrine however his gaze seemed distant and almost sad.  "Can I ask you a question or two?  Have you ever killed anyone out of rage?  If you have, how did it feel?"

[Arroyo Milori]

Citrine stared him down scornfully with his question. "No I haven't nor will you get sympathy from me." His remark on taking it easy just made her cringe with anger. "Why should I "lighten up" when the world refuses to do the same for you."  She grabs him by the hair on his head and pulls him up to her eye-level. "I won't go easy on anyone that includes myself AND you."  She curled her fist full of hair, starting to rise tension between the two.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Slightly off-balance from the stamp, Witt wasn't able to dodge the kick that came flying back towards him, encumbered as he was with the slightly bent bar stool and the bottle between his teeth. Fortunately for any future ladies who might catch his eye, his build was low enough to the ground to put off Despina's aim, if only by a few inches.

On the other hand, a solid kick below the belt takes the wind out of anyone's sails, even if it misses the "sweet spot". With a whoomp of expressed air, he sat down sharply, the bottle flying away from his jaw, the bar stool from his hand. Then, without changing expression, he gently, slowly, and yet inexorably - like a gigantic iceberg calving from the front of a glacier, kilometres of frozen snow gradually changing over several unstoppable minutes from geography into mobile shipping hazard - he folded up, into his own little universe of pain. As he did so, his spines curled over, spreading out, ensuring that whatever else went on, his little universe would remain, above all, private.

From the impenetrable, slightly glistening ball of prickles came a deep, heartfelt groan of pain, with a sharp edge of retribution, followed by two or three deep breaths, and then a number of sulphurous oaths, and, finally, a huge sigh, which shook the ball of spines.

After all that, maybe a minute or two after it had closed, Witt unfolded, with a nasty, pointed glare in Despina's direction. He stabbed a finger in her direction. "You, missy, are making yourself out to be an awful fucking lot of damn trouble."

With that, he stamped a step or two to the side, snatched up the bent stool, and with a huff of expressed air, stomped firmly in her direction.

Retribution was a-coming.


If nothing else, she'd finally got him to be serious about the fight.

[Lisky]

The speckled feline approached the bar after passing a few stone circles outside.  He was exactly where he'd hoped to be.  Sauntering inside, he looked rather shady in his black garb, however, his mind was well shielded from outside intrusion, and both sets of wings were hidden.  He confidently walked up between the rather tall and imposing female's, one, a wolf, who seemed to be slightly on the older side for an adventurer... however, still exceptionally capable, the other, an exceptionally tall lioness, who appeared being, and, at the moment, curled into a ball.  Her embarrassment provided little in the way of energy, but, it helped explain the strange posture.  He took up a seat next to her and shouted at the bar keep, "Yo, barkeep, one bourbon, one scotch, and one beer..."

The feline reached under the black cloth to produce a smallish silver coin which he spun on the bar-top.  In a little show he picked up the still spinning coin on a finger, and, with a little magical nudge, kept it spinning, first on a finger tip, then in his palm.  He tossed it back in the air, and let it clatter to a halt on the counter.  A grin on his face as he added, "And a rundown of how these circles work, if you'd be so kind."

[Arroyo Milori]

Arroyo walked into the bar a minute later than the leopard did. He dusted off his Dark brown coat with one hand, drinking a bottle of water in another then disposing the bottle. He patted both his large canteens on his left side to see if they were there and full. He checked his right side for his sword, where was there, laying in the sheath. He rubbed his bare feet on the mat before stepping in the bar, sitting down at a stool. "What is this place."

He blinked, his jade eyes then looked at the fights. "A fight club..." He mumbled then looked at a peculiar fight going on. "...Citrine?" He quickly got up and waved his arms frantically at them. "Citrine! Citrine! It's me!" He then realized that she probably can't see him. "...Why isn't she noticing me?" He frowned, sitting back down on the stool.

[Dekari]

Dekaris ears picked up on the voice calling out his opponents' name.  "I wouldn't except your sympathy even if you had any to give.  They are my sins to atone for.  Every last soul that I had a hand in murdering when I doomed my entire universe to destruction out of anger, rage...revenge.  To this day a sea of ghostly faces hunts me, always asking one question, 'why?'"  Dekari paused for a moment as his left hand became sheathed in a brilliant light.  "That was and still is the price I paid for my anger."  He finished as the slid his left hand between his head and Citrines hand, cutting his hair to release himself from her grip before garbing her by the neck and throwing her face first to the ground with a loud thud.  "I only tell you this to protect you, as it is the code that all of my clan must follow, 'to protect all who walk in the light'.  You say you haven't killed out of rage, but one day you will, and the one you kill may be someone you care for."

Dekari turned away from Citrine and started to walk to the edge of the ring.  "I think we should start thinking about calling the match.  You seem to have a 'fan' waiting and I could use a drink.  But if you want to continue, it's your move."

[Arroyo Milori]

"It's not up to me ya know. Your the one giving up on the match. I still win ether way." She stands up, wiping the blood coming out her nose and smiles at the bruised body of Dakari. "It's so sad really, you only grazed me but I did a large number of hits on you. I'm surprise your still standing." The ring's backgrounds started to melt back into the image of the bar. She heard a faint call of her name. 'No...it can't be...that Milori Runt?!' She shook her head, stepping out of the Arena, finding a seat in the thick crowd.
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Arroyo wasn't really paying attention to Citrine's fights, he was more intrigue by the other fights. "I don't get it...whats there to gain by fighting each other? Money? or is it just respect?" He tapped his finger against his cheek, thinking about entering but somewhat hesitating on picking an opponent.

[SpottedKitty]

The fake Andrace blinked and looked up. Her butt didn't hurt any more. Neither did her head, or her stomach. And the canine Demon was looming over her, one clawed hand reaching down, and a toothy grin on his muzzle. She didn't panic (much), but she did start moving very quickly. Right arm thrust up, heel of the hand ramming under his chin; jerk knee up then kick out at the pit of his stomach; and roll off to the side, lashing out in mid-roll with a stiff-handed chop to his throat. By the time she finished reacting automatically, she was bouncing on her paw-pads, just beyond arm's reach from the Demon, and spinning to face him.

Across the room, Despina would have been in a perfect position to follow through on her kick and finish off Witt while he was curled up around his own preoccupation. Except that when the hedgehog spat out the bottle in his mouth, it smacked her right between the eyes just as she was recovering from the titanic blast her guts had produced. She staggered back against the bar, flashing lights and little twittering winged pygmy shrews fluttering round her head for a few seconds. By the time she could see straight again, she'd noticed Witt was still out of it, so she decided to take a moment to rest.

That lasted a grand total of three seconds. The lioness looked down in disbelief as her stomach made growling noises as fierce as any that had come from her throat. She cast another healing spell, and laid her green-glowing hand flat against her bare stomach fur. It made no difference; if anything, the next rumble was almost volcanic in scale. Witt was beginning to come back to his senses now, and she couldn't hide her worry. "What th' hell'd y' do t' me, y' little pincushion?" she snarled desperately. "This ain't healin', nothin' I c'n do stops it — argh!" The lioness broke off with a squeal and crossed her legs. This time the noise sounded like a gastric ten-second countdown. Her eyes wild, Despina looked around the room, past the crowds of brawlers, until she spotted the one thing she desperately needed.

Somehow keeeping her legs crossed, she staggered across the room, pausing only when she realised Witt stood in the way. The lioness made a complicated gesture, pointed her staff towards the floor and yowled a single word. Under the hedgehog's feet a glowing circle appeared, then in about a quarter second the circle solidified and shot up to within a yard of the ceiling before vanishing. Despina hobbled on, her eyes near panicked as she came closer to her goal. She only had time for one despairing wail of "Aaaah craaa-a-a-a —" before her final word was cut short by the slamming door of the ladies' room. A second later the door shook with a muffled noise very much like a depth charge detonating.

Back in the real bar, Andrace perked one ear up towards the rough-sounding voice. An eye peeked out between her fingers at the Undead, then her other eye opened and she looked back towards the viewer. Just in time to see her sister's abrupt exit. Her whiskers twitched. Her tail wrapped tightly around a leg of her barstool. She snorted and started laughing, with an evil just-wait-till-I-tell-the-others look on her face.

[Dekari]

Still lingering in the ring, Dekari stared off into the distance.  "Victory by any means...no one truly wins with that lifestyle."  He said aloud to no one in particular as he shook his head.  He walked to the edge of the ring and put his shirt and boots back on and slung the rest of his gear over a shoulder before going back into the bar.

Dekari walked up to the counter and called out to the barkeeper.  "Hey, barkeep, same order as when I first walked in.  Four shots of your strongest stuff.  I'll be waiting over there if you don't mind."  He said pointing at a table in a relatively quiet part of the bar.  "Also, could you tack a rib eye on there, rare and bloody if you can."  He added as he walked over the empty table he just pointed at.  After hanging his gear on the back of a chair, Dekari sat down, crossed his arms on the table, rested his head on his arms, and closed his eyes.  He usually found it better to concentrate when there is only sound to deal with.

[Lisky]

In the fake bar, Baseel took the blow to the chin at full force without any skin hardening to deaden the blow.  His teeth clattered, yet somehow none cracked, chipped or broke.  The blow to the gut caused the demon to roll, hardening his skin while coughing for air.  A wing edge swung up and managed to block the chop, but the demon was rolling on the ground, the faint taste of blood in his mouth let him know she'd gotten a very solid hit indeed.

Wheezing slowly, and inching to his feet, the large shepherd started looking rather angry.  His fist gave off a blackish mist, when it caught the light, the edges seemed to glow, but the body of the gaseous effect was as dark as the blackest of shadow.  He slammed his fist to the ground as the entire bar was suddenly filled with a blinding, pitch-black fog.  Andrace could hear the demon cackling quietly.  "I try and play nice, heal your wounds, wake you up, and in return, you fought dirty.  Now, i'm returning the favor...*snicker*  You might be a skilled fighter, but what happens when the playing field gets tipped."

To the demon, the fog was nothing more that a slight irritation, as if, someone had slid sunglasses on.  He grinned devilishly as he he kicked in the back of a chair, slamming it's occupant's gut into a table, and then to the floor, gasping for breath.  Basilisk then picked up the chair, and skip-stepped his way around the taller feline.  The *click clack* his toe-claws made was the only clue he gave to his position... after a few more seconds of toying, he came in straight for her, swinging the chair at Andrace's belly.

[llearch n'n'daCorna]

Witt had barely started towards Despina when the lioness snarled at him. He blinked, heard the rumble, paused, and grinned, evilly. He started to snicker. By the time he'd descended into full on laughter, she was pounding towards him with a familiar, desperate look plastered all over her muzzle.

Fortunately, this meant he was half-crouched over when her spell threw him upwards, and merely dropped to all fours when leaving the floor. However, since there were no seatbelts attached to the upper side of the glowing circle, when it stopped, he didn't. With a solid wham, and a gasp of sharply exhaled air, he hammered upwards into the ceiling, spines first.

As the circle dissipated, he didn't come down again, either. Stuck firmly to the roof, he roared helplessly with laughter, watching Despina head for the kitty litter. If anything, the laughter got more raucous at the sound of her despairing wail... and then the detonation... and then, apparently as a result, the entire room went dark.

To those watching from the real bar, the blackness was misty and translucent. To those in the fake bar, all they could see was the stygian blackness. And over it all, from his place attached to the roof, the loud, harsh, schadenfraudian tones of Witt's unceasing laughter, covered all incidental sounds.

Edit: Fake bar, the second one. Dammit. >.<

[Arroyo Milori]

The last words that Dakari said to her just made her smile a bit. 'Don't pout because you lost to a well trained fighter...' She slumped down to the back of her chair, relaxing a for a bit. 'Though the crowd won't buy it...I need someone stronger to fight.'

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Arroyo just spun around in his seat, making himself a bit dizzy. "Sooo boring. What compelled me to come to this place is a mystery to me...but maybe a fight or two might break my boredom to pieces. " He continued to spin in the seat, wondering what his first opponent might be...

[Boog]

Boog nodded as Dekari came back in and set out the latest round of drink orders, grinning at Ed's question, "Sensible fellow, this one. You three may want to hear this too." He gestured Dekari, Citrene and Arryo over. "The rules are simple. This is the Honor Circle, otherdimensional fight club and overall bad part of town. You see those circles?" He pointed outside. "All the fighting happens in them. You have the fighting happen anywhere else and there will be troubles. You wait until someone ACCEPTS your challenge before you throw a punch. The challenger picks the who and when, challenged picks the where and how. Drinks cost what you think they're worth, and if you need medical assistance the doctor will just lift the fees out of your pocket while he works. Any questions, kids?"
The barkeep's grin was large and unnatural, spreading too far across his face. He seemed disproportionately pleased with things.

--

"Ah," Richard winced at the fight as it ended, "Well, she WAS doing alright..."

[SpottedKitty]

Fake-Andrace finished her turn and grinned viciously as she saw the effect of her attack on the canine Demon. Her grin became even more feral when the lights went out, accompanied by what sounded like a muffled explosion nearby. She half-closed her eyes and flicked her ears quickly from side to side. Complete darkness was inconvenient, but it didn't leave her helpless. There was still a lot of noise from the other fights, but nearby she could hear breathing, claws on the floor, a thump of someone being knocked down, steps approaching...

The quiet swish of something being swung towards her was her cue to act. She crouched suddenly: not quite low enough, the chair bounced off the top of her thick skull instead of hammering into her stomach, but the brief flash of pain and sparkling lights behind her eyes didn't distract her. As the chair swung past, she reached up and grabbed for the canine Demon's arms. If she could get a good grip, swing round, and surge to her feet, and time it all right, she'd have a good chance of slamming into him and tossing him over her shoulder. If not... well, he did have very sharp horns. Better get it right.

At the other end of the bar, all was quiet... well, quieter, outside the ladies' room. Then the noise of a titanic splash came from inside, and water spurted all round the edge of the door. Despina kicked the door open and squelched out, dripping with water from drooping ears to soggy tail-tuft. And she stopped, blinking in the total darkness. Her nose told her there were still plenty of scents in the room, and she could still hear fighting going on, although it was even more chaotic with the lights out. And she could also hear, high up, probably near the ceiling... evil, cackling laughter. Witt.

This final insult was too much for the lioness. She was in a literal incandescent fury: once again, her eyes were twin pits of flame, and every strand of fur and hair on her body glowed softly. Her head turned from side to side, her ears perked forward and twitching as she tried to zero in on the source of that despicable laughter. There. She snarled a few quick words, raised her free arm and a crackling ball of energy formed around her clenched fist. She glared up at where she was fairly sure Witt ought to be. Her tail lashed from side to side, spraying water in an arc behind her.

"YOU!" she screamed, "GET! DOWN! HERE!" Her fist opened, and a bar of lightning as thick as her forearm sprang from her extended clawtips. The bolt roared up, clearly visible through the inky darkness... and a yard away from the ceiling it split into a dozen smaller ones, arcing out and ripping into the ceiling in a neat circle all around where the hedgehog was. Probably.