The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Sunblink]

...Piix:

Piix couldn't help but feel both amused and greatly uncomfortable at Giles's comment, indicated by the slightly awkward chuckle she emitted; a momentary lapse in her gregarious nature. At least she wasn't considered a rather entertaining choice for a crispy critter, that was of some compensation--as impressive as the self-proclaimed "Lord of the Ashes's" abilities were, she'd be damned if she was going to be used as a piece of furry firewood. If Dimitri were there at the moment he would be equally horrified at the concept, she supposed.

That slightly depressing train of thought was interrupted by Giles offering for Piix to choose their environment. Bobbing her head in acknowledgment, the Orin trudged about the periphery of the ring, holding Orpiment effortlessly above the ground with one hand, while the other grasped the spherical medallion-piece securing her cape. An almost uncharacteristic air of professionalism seemed to hang lugubriously about her features for that moment of concentration, bioluminescent eyes locked onto the center of the ring as she stepped over the boundary and approached it. Orpiment was lowered to the earthen ground, its mighty head grazing the dirt in subtle, swirling strokes. Piix's focus faded. She had no idea how to make this work. Did she just think of a location, and it would--

--Almost complementary to that thought, the air surrounding the circle seemed to ripple palpably, as though an immense, electrical tremor had briefly traversed the foundations of the air itself. An esoteric illusion of a mossy-green shape flickered and faded, spreading into spiked, towering silhouettes with arched neck-like bodies and then quickly multiplying into thousands of likewise apparitions enveloping the circle's atmosphere: every imaginable shade of green flowing outward and adopting bizarre outlines and shapes, colors trickling down the rippling canvas like ink, orange and pink and purple splattering themselves above the green until it formed a giant mosaic of hues. Amidst the hectic process, Piix grinned madly, still tweaking and fidgeting at that medallion and looking as though she was about to throw it off at any second.

Then the transformation stopped, and it solidified. There was no other way to describe it. Where it was once a watercolor, kaleidoscopic caricature, it had now taken an entirely new dimension and had been bestowed with life. Surrounding Piix and Giles was an immense, tropical jungle--the blurred shapes had become tall and domineering trees looming this way and that or other vegetation encrusting the earth, whether it was some particularly odd moss coating a surprisingly luminescent and reflective rock protruding from the dirt or the vines suffocating a smaller tree--rather similar to the environments seen in more ordinary conditions, yet this one was, in a sense, different, if because none of the plants actually looked like something which could be automatically identifiable from a human eye. Each species of tree was either beyond recognition in its abnormality or slightly similar to another tree or very similar but just barely set apart by the fact it had intaglio patterns fluctuating within the brittle bark or the leaves were shaped in a different way. The possibilities were endless. Granting an even larger sense of irregularity to this alien rainforest was the golden-glow suffusion of honeyed light over the trees, cast from the sinking sun suspended far in the distance, shawled among a tufted wreath of purple-gray clouds.

Giles and Piix themselves were in a particularly large clearing, unremarkable due to how devoid it was of any plants or rocks aside from the occasional, comparatively plain shrubbery sprouting from the soil. Piix was again fidgeting with that medallion of hers, and finally succeeded in unhooking it, still cradling it in the palm of her hand.

"Ain't as good as I woulda pictured it..." Piix stated absently, as though this spectacular scene was something entirely ordinary. She briefly darted her purple-hued tongue out at her index finger, then used it to test the air temperature. "...and missing a Sarsarti Bulb 'r two... But it's been a while since I've visited home an' all. Nitpicking aside!"

Thumb and forefinger slipped together, eliciting a sharp crack sound reminiscent of a twig breaking in two, then Piix was launched backwards as the air surrounding her distorted in a manner identical to what had occurred before Keaton's card structure was collapsed. At the end of the impossible leap, Piix landed on the other side of the field, still keeping Orpiment held in one hand and that spherical pendant in the opposite hand. She decided to be generous. Piix flashed Giles a grin that was far too devious to be considered anything close to benevolent.

"Yer move, jack."

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Cogidubnus]

"Yer move, jack.

Standing amidst an alien landscape, and almost disoriented by the kaleidoscope of colors and shapes swirling around, from purple clouds overhead to verdantly-colored trees swaying overhead, the blackguard sucked in a breath of humid air, sooty lungs coughing just a bit as the moisture worked its way down. He cracked his neck with a single gauntleted fist, grinning back at the Orin with what could almost be considered a maniac grin, and reached behind him to grab the spear resting across his back. It stuck for only just a moment, the armored man's arm jerking just a bit as the spear-tip came loose form the special holder carved onto his backplate.

It hissed as he drew it, dripping blood over superheated metal. The blackguard lifted it up and over his shoulder to rest on the ground before him - red-hot and burning, smelling of the horrid, choking smell of burning blood, and hissing as it dripped the crimson fluid and as it touched the moisture-laden ground. Within moments, the red-hot tip began to burn into the grasses, a bit of wet smoke rising up from the rapidly blackening patch of ground.

"The grass withereth, the flower fadeth too:" the blackguard began, his face almost split in two from his grin. A former paladin, the man had been made to learn such verses. "But the word of the Lord shall stand for ever..." the man laughed, tilting his head at the Orin before beginning to lurch from side to side.
"Ashes to ashes." he finally said, shuffling from foot to foot in truth, and beginning to move about in the clearing, the man surprisingly nimble in that armor. Moving rhythmically, and sweeping his spear in wide arcs, the man began to...dance. There was no other word for it.

Despite his seemingly laughable tactic, a moment later bright fire burst from and began to trail behind his spear, the salamander on the front of his armor glowing brightly - as the man kept moving, the fire grew, joined by yet more and more flames emanating from the air around him. Bright and vibrant orange began to swirl around the pyromancer, swelling until it simply engulfed the man, a vortex of flames.
Piix could hear the blackguard chuckling darkly within the expanding fire - all around the man, the ground simply caught alight, the moisture turned to superheated steam vapor in an instant, and the grass beneath that blackening and withering. It licked at the trees, promising to soon bathe the arena in an inescapable inferno.

* * *

The angel looked at the scorpion strangely, raising one eyebrow, and then turning formally and keeping his scythe to his side faced the scorpion, his face neutral. He frowned, closing his eyes once and then opening them again fully.
"If you are challenging me, I have no choice but to accept." he said, his voice carefully slow. "You may name your terms."

[Stygian]

The conversation having ceased somewhere halfway through, both Stygian and Sal, and also their companions it seemed, had turned to watch the fights outside. Though, of course, the blond man kept his attention partly on the challenge being made inside right then.  He knew the scorpion-thing from before, but the man with the scythe, and his words... He was interesting. Or, rather, he at least had Stygian's curiosity pricked. He still wanted to wait out the elf lady. He thought that she had been at least partly interested, and he had a very acute feeling for such things. And he knew at least a bit of how she fought now. So that fight would probably be most enjoyable...

[nikename2]

...No choice?...

Rip was kind of caught on by surprise from the man's words. There's always a choice.....just not always a practical one. It wasn't really his words that sank into Rip's mind though, it was the delivery. Why the sudden change.....he wondered. It's not like he went out of his way to offend this, Laertes, unlike his earlier run in with that demoness. He wasn't about to go on about it though as he blinked for a few seconds with a slightly surprised expression on his face.

"Alright then, I figured you might have wanted to warm up a bit, if things end up going sour later. I guess standard terms will be sufficient, we keep going until a concession, or until one of us is unable to fight any longer, or if we agree to just call it a draw at some point.....and for the heck of it, loser buys the winner a round if he so chooses. Sound alright?", Rip asked as he stretched his arms up a bit, bouncing a little bit on the balls of his feet to loosen himself up.

[Cogidubnus]

"...if I win, you may forgo buying me a round." the Jackal murmured, looking outside breifly, and then back at the scorpion angel standing in front of him. "A fight to the yield, then." Laertes said, his voice smooth, and carrying his scythe in one hand walked out of the building.

It was only a short trek to the unoccupied circle, and without pause the Angel walked into it, the magic of that place already reacting. Insubstantial and ghostlike, the outlines of a great glass dome appeared over the circle, a promise of what would become real when his opponent entered the arena. The arena otherwise remained completely unchanged. The angel stood on the far end, his scythe at his side like a staff. Suddenly and without any sign, the Jackal's black wings spread wide with a small rushing sound - simply not there moments before, the Angel's black wings appeared behind the priest.

He stood silent, almost swaying, and waited for the other Angel to enter.

[nikename2]

Rip followed a few feet behind the jackel, then turned to head toward the side in the opposing direction. He looked up as the arena began to change subtly. A glass dome was forming over the circle, other then that though, nothing had visibly changed from before. Just a straight fight.....alright then....errr?...

Right before Rip took foot into the Honor Dome, he caught sight of the sudden change in his opponent, causing him to pause for a moment in surprise and awe. Rip smiled slightly upon this unexpected revelation and shook his head briefly, tossed the pool cue he was holding off to the side of the ring; then stepped inside. His expression then changed as he got into fighting stance, this time placing more emphasis on the subtle bouncing then keeping his fists held up. He wasn't going to take this man lightly, and he expected nothing less in return.

"Stupid question, but I figured I might as well ask you since you decided on this environment. Is the glass indestructible?", Rip calmly asked, as once again a dim incandescant hue began to outline his figure. "I'll give you the first strike, just cause of the inquiry."

[Stygian]

Attention drawing to the two creatures speaking at the other end of the room, Stygian listened carefully to the scorpion and the jackal for a moment. That angel-thing seemed at a considerable disadvantage, if he had really revealed as much of his power as it seemed during the last fight. In face of that, he shouldn't have been so eager to challenge a stranger. Of course, he seems to be just a brawler, Stygian thought. He could be holding surprises back. And if he reveals any next, that might make it a bit more interesting...
  The initiation of their fight was quick and concise, and both Stygian and the android were watching now. The jackal stepped into the ring, and unlike before the other fights that had or were taking place, the site of the duel did not change immediately, but rather changed as if in anticipation of the other contestant to enter. Watching the scythe-carrying man, Stygian spoke, directing a question to the wolf and the woman immediately beside him. 'That one. Your... acquaintance. Is he... anything in particular?'
  Cog did not have the time to answer the question, before the jackal made at least some show of being 'particular'. As he turned to face his opponent, great, dark, feathered wings gathered behind him, taking shape and settling at his back. And Cog became aware of a vicious grin spreading over the face of the man next to him.
  ':oh shit,' came the synthetic voice of the machine behind them both, standing next to Risky. ':that's a surprise.' She looked to Stygian, shook her head, and made an excellently replicated sighing sound.
   The arthropod thing only stopped to hesitate for a brief moment, before chuckling, and proceeding into the ring, seemingly cocky and amused. Stygian kept grinning, reaching out with his hand and tapping the counter twice. 'Boog, bring me a double Earthquake. I am going to enjoy watching this.'

[techmaster-glitch]

Karazkt

   The buggy man regarded the Boogeyman with what seemed thankful and excited behind his pitch-black goggles that covered his eyes as the jugs of water were placed on the counter. He started manipulating a whole multitude of levers in the front of his cockpit with his surprisingly dexterous three-appendaged hands (it seemed difficult to call them 'fingers'), and even more surprisingly, his own antennae, which proved to be very prehensile. His mech swung around to face the other direction. He did something else, and all the noise from within the giant brown-and-black mech ceased. He then stood up in the cockpit, turning around, then leaned over, using his hands to open up a small hidden metal panel on the back with a small hole behind it, while he used one antenna to reach down and curl around a jug, then used the other to pop of the cap, then used both to pour the water down the small hole. A hissing, steaming sound accompanied the flow of water as it reached deep within the mech. The bug-guy then carelessly tossed away the jug down the counter, and started doing what he did with the other jugs that were being set out, using only his antennae.
   "NoT juzT," The bug man happily said in reply to the Boogeyman's comment about steam. "ZTeam iz only the power, the real meKanizimz are all KloKworK." He continued using only his antennae to fill up the mech with with water, until all fifty one-gallon jugs were spent. While he did so, he used his hands to open up another, larger panel, revealing a small portion of the inside. It seemed like nothing but a convention of gears and axles, all made of the same strange brown-and-black metal that comprised the armor shell. He then closed both panels, them blending seamlessly back into the rest of the mech. The bug-man quickly turned and sat back down in the cockpit, and plunged his antennae back into the two small intake ports. Flames lanced along his antennae as he jerked a few levers, and the mech roared to life again with a loud whistle of escaping steam, shooting out a puff-cloud that drifted lazily up to the ceiling before dissipating.
   He turned the mech back around again, and saw a single flask filled with a golden viscous fluid. It was not difficult to imagine his eye, whatever they looked like, widening behind his goggles as his mouth hung open slightly. 'IT Kan'T be!" His antennae shot down and snatched up the bottle, holding delicately in front of his face. He used one antenna to twist off the cap, dropping it smoothly into an open hand, and waved the now-free antenna over the top. He took a deep breath and shuddered heavily. "No...how Kould you have pozzibly goTTen your handz on...No, thaT doezn'T maTTer!" The bug-man then smoothly transferred the bottle from his antenna to his hands, swapping the cap into the antenna that held the bottle. Again, it was easy it imagine his eyes closing as he slowly tipped the bottle towards his mouth for a sip, the thick stuff letting some into his waiting maw. As his mouth closed around the stuff, he suddenly jerked up in his seat, his antennae shooting straight out, electrified. His eyes most likely shot open behind his black goggles as well (How could he see through them?).
   "IT...iT iz! Genuine Buzzen-Hive brewed golden firefungaz-neKTar ale! Oh!" He clutched the bottle tightly, gently rubbing it against the side of his face, absentmindedly screwing the cap back with his antenna. "Remindz me zo much of home...I muzT zave thiz!" He ducked into the cockpit of his mech, presumably stowing it in a safe place.

Mechangel

   The cloaked man watched the Insetis fill up his mech as he analyzed it. Steam-powered, clockwork-driven...the man was impressed. He never knew that the Insectis, being a race of Creatures, had this kind of thing in them. He certainly knew the Beings never managed this kind of thing before they moved on to electricity and electronics.
   He also watched with interest as the Insectis became very occupied with a bottle of strange liquid. The man always liked trying new things, so he walked over to the other side of the counter, away from the Insectis and his clockwork mech. "I'll have whatever he just had." The man said quietly to the Boogeyman behind the counter, placing another gold coin on the counter with a white-furred left hand through his cloak.

[Cogidubnus]

 The Angel blinked, still standing quite still, and without preamble answered the scorpion angel.
"Entirely." he answered, his voice clearly audible, and then grasped his scythe with both hands. "And so we begin."

As soon as the angel spoke the words, the glass dome above them solidified, and all sound from the outside world seemed to cease - birds, the sounds of the wind, even the sound from the other battle occurring at the same time all stopped, and pure silence reigned in the dome.
As Rip examined the ground, he realized that the floor had shifted, just barely - where it had been a simple plane before, it was now subtly concave, the center of the dip coinciding with the apex of the glass dome above.

Laertes allowed the shaft of his scythe to touch the stone ground - and what would normally be an inaudible thump echoed loudly throughout the enclosed battlefield. The Angel nodded, satisfied, and then looked up at the scorpion Angel with a strangely out-of-place, malicious grin.

"In heaven a spirit doth dwell," he began, his voice whisper-soft, and yet clearly audible, filling every corner of their battlefield with his hushed tones, "Whose heart strings are a lute - None sing so wildly well, as the Angel Israfel:"
He paused, drawing himself up, his coal-colored wings spreading wide behind him. "And the giddy stars, so legends tell, Ceasing their hymns attend the spell, of his voice: all mute."

A hush descended down on the battlefield again, and yet again, slowly, the angel began to speak - no, the angel began to sing. Softly, lowly at first, he sang a chant, arcane words and latin liturgies mixed together in some sort of divine spellcasting, the angel's voice building from it's soft intonation into full, deep-throated song. Laertes's voice, now almost crystal high, was being perfectly reflected by the nature of the curved floor and the bell, roubounding painfully inside of the bell-shaped dome. A spell within a spell, the Jackal's voice, beginning to make the very air vibrate, and creating an earsplitting, painful and deafening cacophony of sound, also served to cast the first of his divine spells.

Golden liquid, seemingly from nowhere at all, began to simply drip off the jackal, golden light flowing over and covering him while he continued his attack - the Jackal standing unfazed amidst the rending, tearing whirlwind of sonics, the spell only amplified by the arena they sat in.

[nikename2]

Rip nodded in understanding as he got his answer regarding the nature of the glass dome. He then waited for his opponent to make his move. Silence came over them, and for a split-second Rip felt a little off balance; with a quick glance he realized that the surface of the floor had changed slightly. The scythe dropped down, sending forth an unusually loud echo throughout the dome. Rip looked back up and kept himself focused. What are you up too....wait....

When Laertes' very whispers began echoing clearly forth, Rip started to realize the true purpose of the dome. Laertes then began to float upward as his wings spread out forth, his voice echoing ever louder, until he started to break into an all out sonata. It was as painful as it was beautiful, a spectacular sight. Soon Rip could see the very air throbbing to each verse, the whole dome shaking; the very air popping and collapsing as the sound waves collided in destructive sonic booms.

Rip held his right hand up covering his ear as he held himself up on the ground against the painful force being sent at him, it didn't matter though. Within seconds he couldn't hear the voice anymore, he couldn't even hear himself think. All that was left was just an earsplitting ringing sound resonating through his ears. Rip let his right fist drop from his ear, then stared back up at the angel, who was staring back, still serene as ever; appeared to be shimmering now.

Rip dove quickly out of the way of a series of sonic booms, then croutched himself up against the edge of the bottom of the dome. He then spoke, even though he heard nothing beyond the painful ringing in his mind, "That was beautiful, Laertes. Now it's my turn..."

A sharp grin spread across Rip's face, his canine and pearly whites showing forth as he clenched his right fist, igniting it into a sacred white fireball. The radiance enveloping himself in turn grew sharp in intensity, and in a split-second he sprung forth from the edge with a flash, sending out a small shockwave from where his feet kicked off from. His wings laid back as he flew forth at ridiculously high speed, leaving behind a whispy light vapor trail. The air however, extremely turbulent, with sonic blasts bursts past him in the split-seconds he was speeding through. Then one was right infront of him, just as he was within about thirty feet of the Muse. The Scorpion Angel blinked right before impact; on instinct, his entire visage enveloped itself in a bright flash, he then found himself off and to the side speeding past his opponent, straight into walls of the dome.

Rip didn't realize at all what just happened right there in that split-second, the environment was so turbulent, it would have been hard to catch what his body did out of reflex. He just kept it going with his momentum and rebounded off wall, sending himself rushing at breakneck speed downward at Laertes' left shoulder blade. Right before impact, Rip pulled his legs out infront of himself, then sweet impact. Rip kicked himself off of his opponent, then croutched his wings in as he backflipped down toward the ground. He then looked up hesitantly from his croutched position, watching the other angel fly forth from the impact. He still couldn't hear himself think, and the ringing pain within was gradually rising still. Rip doubted that it would have ended right there, not after the sonata this man had just performed. Rip began to assume that each sound would keep making the pain worse, until this was over. He would have to keep his mind focused, at all costs....

[lucas marcone]

"AH!" Ian yelled the thorns were ripping up his skin. Ian saw he was in it deep so he did the only thing he could think to do. He pulled on the staff then brought it back down to Sylvie with force. He repeated this action a few times.

[Cogidubnus]

 The angel cocked an eyebrow, surprised Rip could move at this point - if he was the sort of insect with hearing that would care about such sounds, chances were his hearing was sharp indeed - if he wasn't, the Jackal has fully expected his attack to fail. Even so, he hadn't been expecting a middle ground, nor had he been expecting his great speed. Blindingly fast, the Angel rocketed towards him and then passed him, bouncing off the glass behind Laertes to execute a marvelous full-body kick to the Angel's left shoulder. With the dull crunch of breaking bones, the angel was sent flying forwards across the arena, a disjointed scream of pain breaking the discordant, somehow fugue-esque harmony of the Angel's chant.

The kick had connected with his wing, a place where Angels, or at least Laertes personally, was very sensitive. The broken bones in the appendage made the angel almost scream again, unable to move the wing without blinding pain. The Angel's flight was not entirely physical, and though levitation was able to keep himself from falling unceremoniously upon the arena floor.
As he stopped, golden energy began seemed to aggregate upon the damaged wing, wrapping it in a protective cocoon - with a voice that was gradually gathering itself back, the Jackal sung a slow, lilting melody, this new spell beginning to knit the muscles and bones in his wing back together again. Laertes was not a second-rate preist - within a few moments, the potent magic would heal the tears and meld sinew and bone back into place.
As it did so, the Jackal turned to look back at the angel, true anger flashing in his purple-hued eyes.

He brought forth a gold-dripped arm, and without preamble arcane syllables began to roll off his tongue, a smooth, lilting chant that took full advantage of the room's acoustics and moreso, magically amplified sound bouncing throughout the chamber - and as he held forth his hand, a single blue ring formed in front of the Angel's palm, by itself for only a moment before looping around itself yet again, and then again, forming dozens of eldritch, glowing blue rings. The angel continued to chant, and his the chant speeding up somewhat, reared back with his right hand.

The Jackal stopped speaking, and miraculously, all noise in the chamber died instantly, the rings in his hand seeming to triple in number - and taking advantage of the few moments of confusion such sudden noiselessness would bring, the angel swung out with his right arm. His arm slowed at the apex of the throw, as if the angel strained against something, and with a startling intensity the ball of rings was free - and in that moment, the chanting returned full force, the ball of rings turned into a simple distortion.
The Jackal had aimed at his feet.

Like a physical shockwave, a literal wall of translucent distortion exploded outwards, a amorphous bubble of physically tangible sound, rushing to the edges of the glass bowl, the noise in the chamber growing to intolerable levels, and the angel himself standing at the apex of the blast, scribing golden words upon the air...

[Boog]

Boog frowned. Rhetorical questions. He was never all that good with those. Every Honor Circle was stocked with everything a patron might order, which wasn't there until they ordered it. He suspected some of his kind had been the ones to set that up, but with these places who knew? Ah well, the customer's happy.

---

Siolen couldn't help walking over to take a closer look at the steam powered suit for a moment, rapping his knuckles against the side of it once. He'd heard of warriors modifying their armor, but this seemed like a sign that things were getting out of hand. He turned his attention to the new fight starting outside.

[Stygian]

It was only after shaking her head at Stygian's almost manical expression of joy at watching the fight between the angels unfold, that the android turned to eye Cog, somehow managing to convey an expression as if she'd almost forgot about him a while. Strangely, the Boogeyman picked up another eerie, uncomfortable sensation from her direction right then.
  ':oh, of course. i am certain it will be a pleasure to make yours as well,' the machine responded, thin rings like the zooms on a camera rotating around her one large, central eye. She stretched out a hand, somewhat human-like but split down the middle between the center fingers and with an overly flexible structure, some joints seamless while others exposed the underlying metal structure. ':my unit designation is HOD001147Y-I,' she explained neutrally. ';it is probably hard, and unneccessary, to remember. Therefore, you can simply call me Sahlena.'
  'Sapient and human-like engineered android,' Stygian said, picking up his Earthquake once it was delivered and kicking back the notoriously strong mix in a hefty gulp. 'She's a machine, so of course it's an acronym.' There was a certain intonation to that statement that did not go by unnoticed. 'She's my laptop,' the man then stated, still smirking deviously and keeping his eyes on the fight outside. This earned him a disapproving glare from the machine.

[Sunblink]

...Piix:

Upon Piix's sly encouragement, the blackguard had drawn his spear--an elongated monstrosity of a weapon, its wicked tip imbued with corrupted sanguine, the aforementioned fluid dripping in copious, oily dollops from the blade to the ground--and began reciting verses from something Piix had never heard of before while spinning and swiping that barbaric lance of his about in almost hypnotic circles and arcs. Initially, Piix was skeptical of this display, observing it with a clearly unimpressed, sardonic air to her expression. Giles was a monster of a man, and didn't look very agile, especially when encumbered with all that heavy armor, so watching him attempt some bastardization of dance was almost borderline ridiculous.

Although when Piix started to detect the malodorous stench of sizzling smoke, her countenance petered out quite quickly.

Especially so when she thought she saw sparks snap like blinding firecrackers in the humid air, expanding, then vanishing into whitewashed infinity.

Shit.

As the air seemed to ignite into great serpentine locks of flame and the temperature started to skyrocket, the chips of bark and sodden soil trampled beneath Giles's armored feet combusting under the writhing knot of fire collecting behind each sweep and stroke of the spear, Piix reacted almost instinctively, the hand which was clasped around that spherical medallion squeezing, then wrenching, tearing it from the front of her cape and unfolded hood.

Manipulating gravity wasn't the only ability Piix was capable of.

In the span of a second, the cloak seemed to liquefy, rippling and coalescing in giant droplets off of Piix's form and siphoning like a cape of syrup-ink into the opaque orb-medallion she grasped in her palm. It opened up and accepted the medallion into its webbed body, closing upon it and entirely enveloping the periphery of the sphere, drenching its surface in taut, lusterless black. Another ripple, an internal flash of gold which somehow pierced the seemingly impenetrable net of ink, then it disintegrated, the sphere seeming to gain a life of its own as it hovered out of Piix's grip and orbited freely around her body. Behind the rapid spinning of the orb, Piix's eyes seemed to glow a dim orange, her vivid-yellow irises contracting around slit-shaped pupils. Giles's form was steadily becoming enshrouded in twists and arcs of writhing flame, his chitinous armor gleaming an eerie sanguine under the intense heat and light emitted by the fire--

--undoubtedly it would spread to the rest of the jungle. It would become the Lord of the Ashes's playground.

This selection in battlefield wasn't exactly Piix's smartest choice. She would've bemoaned this decision, but at the moment she was clearly affixed in something akin to shock, even as she attempted to analyze some sort of weakness amidst the (OHSHIT) fire. Giles was still dancing that wretched lunatic dance of his, and that spear was constantly in motion, scrawling the inferno as though it were some incendiary pen, trailing smoke and ash and tongues of flame, not only weaving him a perfect offensive vortex, but a safe enclosure as well. Piix couldn't immediately think of any attacks which could penetrate that miasma of fire--

--fucking hell. She had to reach Giles. Had to shake him up somehow. As for how, she had to improvise.

The orb spiraled discordantly about Piix's body, spinning up until it was levitating between her shoulder-blades and over the tufts of quills adorning the length of her spine. Once there, the orb began to spread and reshape itself, adopting a broader, thicker frame--one reminiscent of a large disc, made of the same material Orpiment was. Tiny particles leaped helter-skelter from its surface like solidified bubbles, gradually inflating until three particularly large, individual spheres broke from the disc and began to circle Piix's body in mid-air.

Piix could feel a certain heaviness pull onto Orpiment's length, making it decidedly heavier as she weaved and mentally conducted the gravity around her. Working against that swarming weight, Orpiment was swung back and slapped to the ground, its face inflating and pooling briefly on the ground before it rebounded like rubber, bashing back up with such force Piix's whole body jerked. With that collision to the ground the collected pressure spun and swam, clearly distorting the fire-licked air surrounding her--and something seemed to shoot forward, rocketing invisibly across the ground, its presence only indicated by the rippling and pulsating of the air and the way the dirt and soil of the earth split as the bullet of pressure cleaved through it.

It was manipulation. As she had said before, much more catastrophic results could only be achieved with much more concentration. Once she was certain she had Giles in this manipulation spell's grasp, she would increase as much gravity as possible in order to topple the behemoth. A difficult task, but it would be well worth it.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[techmaster-glitch]

Karazkt

   The bug-man was hunched over in his cockpit, stowing away the nectar-ale, and of course in the confined space, his antennae were brushing the inside of the cockpit. Thus the hypersensitive antennae picked up the vibrations of something knocking on the armor of his mech. He felt exactly where it was, and what it was; It was something made of stone, but it wasn't just some rock. It was in a large and burly, yet strange humanoid shape. It also had wings. Angel? No...Demon? Maybe...
   He straightened up out of the bottom of the cockpit, and looked over the side. He regarded the strange stone thing from behind his pitch-black goggles with his infravision. It was certainly not alive, but it did radiate magic from it's core. The bug-man leaned forward, stretching out his antennae. He gently poked and prodded the thing for a few moments, smelling it, feeling it. Even though he was already sure, his antennae never lied, he confirmed that the thing was indeed solid stone, yet it moved. It smelled of stone, as well as some other things that the bug-man couldn't quite place, but he knew they were recent.
   After a few moments, the bug-man lost interest and stopped staring and feeling. He decided to view the other people around the bar. His antennae were sensitive enough that they heard all conversation in the bar, and even things from outside, but the bug had tuned it all out until now. He slowly gazed around the room from behind his opaque goggles.
  First, he looked outside, and saw three strange things. One was a rather strange radiant dome that he couldn't see through. Judging from the colors in his infravision, it was magic of some kind. Then there was a ring that seemed to have a miniature forest in it, with strange vegetation that produced alien colors in his infravision. What's more, there was a miniature, yet large person in heavy armor making much fire, and he seemed to be fighting another thing that the bug had never seen before. Then there was a third ring, again, with miniature people fighting in a miniature setting. One of them seemed a Being rat, while the other was a...plant person? It looked like both a plant and a person in his infravision.
   Things here were getting stranger and stranger.
   Then he actually shifted his attention inside, looking everyone carefully over, one at a time. Some of them seemed normal, but not many. One was definitely made of metal, with seven eyes shining clearly in his infravision, but it's body radiated in a very peculiar way. He also saw what looked like a large blotch in his infravision. He closed one eye behind his goggles, gradually shutting down his infrareceptors in that eye and warming up the photoreceptors. He then used one hand to lift up that one goggle lens a bit, just enough to see under. The light stung momentarily, but passed quickly. All he saw was...someone in a cloak. Very odd.
  He let go of the goggle lens, which snapped back over his eye, and the bug switched it back over to infravision. He then continued scanning the room. He saw a few more people of interest, some of races he recognized, some not, but the real event was when he looked a certain corner.
  And saw something that immediately captivated his attention.
  It was a...creature...of some sort...curled up, but still very large. Viewing it in his infravision, she, for it was unmistakeably a she, looked regal and strong, her form speaking of a great primal power. She seemed injured, the bug saw her body heat leaking in several spots. He directed his antennae towards her. He had kept his antennae on very low sensitivity when he entered the place; he didn't want to be distracted. He just wanted to get some water, and leave. But now he fully opened up his sense of smell, sniffing the creature's pheromones from a distance.
   She reeked of royalty.
   Slowly, almost nervously, he reached up for his goggles, switching his vision from infra to light as he did so. Slowly, he moved the goggles up to his brow, so he could see the creature in normal light.
   His breath caught.
   Her form was so different from  anything he had seen, yet also somehow familiar. Her carapace was a solid sleek black, and the details on her body were exquisite. She didn't compare to one of his own Queens, of course, but she was, there was no other word for it, beautiful.
   Without any further hesitation, he sat in his mech and furiously began moving levers. The mech lurched to life in a small roar of steam, and he started moving directly for her, accidentally crushing a table on the way. He got his mech near her, then put it close to the ground, shutting it off, jumping out of the cockpit rushing up in front of her, then getting on his knees and placing his hands on the ground, looking down unwaveringly, all with his antennae stretched towards her. It was a symbol of trust and submission; an Insectis' antenna, while able to handle all kinds of stressful sensory input, were still physically extremely delicate. To do this with them meant either you trusted the person greatly, or were submitting to a higher authority.
   He had no doubt she qualified as a higher authority.
   Then he began speaking in his own native language, a combination of vowels, consonants, but mostly buzzes and clicks, incomprehensible to everyone else in the room. What he said went something like this:
   "My humble greetings, most noble Queen, for you are surely a Queen. I am E/E-4125, also known as Karazkt, from the Insectis Hive of Steam and Clocks. I notice that you are injured, is there anything, anything that I can do to tend for you, ease your pain, or make you more comfortable? One as high as you should never have to suffer like this." Karazkt then paused for a moment. He had been quite alone for some time, utterly without guidance of any kind, except for his original exploration objective, which was hardly sufficient to help him get by. He needed a hierarchy; he needed someone telling him what to do.
   "And if it pleases you," He continued, "I wish to serve you while you are here, I will be yours to use as you will for that duration."
   Even though he was speaking in his own language, and she was another species, Karazkt desperately hoped she would be able to understand him.

Mechangel

   The cloaked man watched with amusement as the gargoyle [Siolen] decided to knock on the Insectis' mech, and got some antennae-prodding in return. Then he watched as the Insectis slowly scanned everyone around pausing oh him quizzically, and lifting up one goggle lens to view the man under the cloak with an unobstructed eye. It was shiny and solid beady-black, though the man remembered ChkChkTia's eyes being a lustrous golden. So, it seemed either ChkChkTia was different, or the Insectis really did have various eye colors.
   Then something very strange happened. The Insectis seemed to take great interest in [Alien-1], the great black buggy one, and then he maneuvered his mech over to her, getting out quickly and going into sort of an odd bow, with outstretched antennae. then he began speaking in some strange language, presumably his own. The man under the cloak didn't know what was going on, but he was interested to see what was going to happen next. The Insectis didn't seem very smart if he was trying to suck up to that giant black bug.

[nikename2]

The jackel's body expression of pain, if for half a second, brought a small smirk of satisfaction across Rip's face. In the next second though when the area he had impacted became drenched in what appeared to be a cocoon-like gilded liquid, his expression reverted back. He could hurt him, but he doubted anything he could do would leave a lasting impact, and now Laertes appeared to be sufficiently pissed off. His opponent was a clear master of the divine, to that end he realized that he probably couldn't afford to go into a war of attrition with this guy, not with every subtle sound slowly raising the pain. No, Rip knew he was going to have to get back in this guy's face and stay there if he wanted to put an end to this. It was probably the best option, since he figured his opponent, being a master, could just easily shrug off any barrage Rip could throw at him from afar.

His opponent then drew his arm out, and suddenly all of the sonic booms going off between them dissipated, and the air became still unnaturally fast. Rip could see something forming in the angel's palm, and quickly realized that he had to get out of the way. It was too late though, Laertes hand snapped forth, casting the pitch. Rip made a makeshift effort to jump up and out of the way, but when the other angel's mouth opened just slightly, the scattershot of blue rings exploded and shotforth into an enormous shockwave. It was moving much to fast, and the top part of the wave impacted with Rip's lower legs as he tried to evade it, sending him flipping upwards into the air out of control. The wave had torn shreds across everything it made contact with, leaving several small cuts in the parts that got hit.

Had it been anywhere else, that would have been it. However, because of how the arena was shaped, the shockwave collided along the edges then reflected back out and upwards, converging onto itself due to the concave nature of the dome. It then made impact upon Rip a second time, this time head on and more intense then before. Rip kept his vitals covered as it collided again with him. His robes, nearly all of his clothing ripping unto themselves, with several slashes from the force of the wave etched over anything that was exposed. The wave after the second hit then began to collide with the newly reforming sonic booms emerging near the top of the dome and dissipated.

All the while Rip was sent flailing towards the ground near the edge, landing croutched upright; gritting his teeth against the pain he had felt. Incredibly intense this was turning out to be, it wasn't enough to make Rip back down though, not as things were just gettin started. Rip looked down at his still-lit right gauntlet and brought it up, placing his palm over his heart. The sacred white fireball he had been holding onto seethed itself into his skin and spread itself throughout his body, lighting up the wounds slightly as they began to slowly seal up, while at the same time stemming rise of pain within his mind that came from each audible. Rip stood himself up and closed his eyes briefly with a low sigh; as he did he reached into robes with his right hand, grabbing onto his sun medallion necklace. As he clenched his grip around it he then lifted up his left hand and tore off his robes and shirt in one fluid motion, tossing them to his side. He then opened his eyes and hastily draped the small charm around his neck, causing his dark wings to light up then retreat into his back. All the while he tore his tattered pants off with his free hand leaving himself in nothing but his crimson boxers. His expression of determination unchanged, there was a reason behind all of this.

His wings, and his clothing, were doing nothing but creating drag in the turbulent air of this environment, slowing him down. He had to make his body sleeker, to make himself faster. Disregarding the jackel's surprise, Rip reached for his back with his right arm and whipped out his racket, lighting it up in a white glow instantly. Then in a split-second, he springed himself off the surface, twisting himself around, and began sprinting insanely fast right up the walls of the dome. He found himself moving nearly twice as fast as he was earlier, so much so that the booms colliding with the surface of the wall looked like they were slowing down as he nimbly avoided the ones in his desperate path.

As he made for his target, Rip had held out his free hand, forming an explosive ball of light in it, while at the same time concentrating on his racket. The only thing one could guess, would be that he was pouring part of his soul into the weapon as the top edge it glew brightly and formed into a straight razors edge of blazing light, extending Rip's reach by about five feet. Within a couple seconds he was directly over his opponent; then kicked off towards him again. He lifted up his left hand as he made the kickoff and let go, swatting the orb towards him while forming up another quickly and fired that one off too in a very fast motion. Rip knew they wouldn't do much, he was actually betting on them setting his opponent off-balance so he could break his guard. After the second shot, Rip twisted himself around as he fell and swong his makeshift racketsaber down in a slashing motion for Laertes' skull, all the while his free hand was warming up another light orb.

[Cogidubnus]

 The Jackal grinned as the top of the bubble of force caught Rip's legs, throwing him yet higher into the air and them rebounding atop him yet again - it was an attack that could break furniture and shatter glass, and the scorpion amazingly stood up to it. Continuing to scribe golden letters into the air, the Jackal raised an eyebrow as the Angel then proceeded to strip.

He didn't bother to wonder at his opponent's sanity - perhaps the sound was getting to him after all. In any case, Laertes drew carefully with a gold-dripping finger, the runes two-lines long before he passed his hand through them, the golden writing disappearing quickly.
The other Angel, fast as lightning, was running up the sides of the dome. Laertes quirked an eyebrow.

In front of his palm, another ring of blue suddenly tore itself into reality, a horrendous shearing sound emanating out from the crystalline blue ring - and then yet another, a dozen set of azure rings ripping themselves out of the air and in front of the Jackal's hand. The arcs of blue simply hung in the air, and with an amazing burst of speed his opponent sent two balls of light flying for the Jackal, the orbs tearing through the air.

The first caught on the foremost arc of blue, and shorn in half the light went to both sides, slamming into the ground directly in front of and behind the Jackal. The second, making it through the web of blue light, slammed into the Jackal's shoulder, the liquid light covering the Jackal protecting him from it's light-based properties, but not absorbing the inertia. The Angel stumbled backwards.
As he did, the spell ended prematurely, the arcs of light fading into simple nothingness. Looking up, the Angel then saw a third ball headed for him, and Rip himself tearing after him like a bolt of lightning.

Laertes narrowed an eye.

As the Scorpion angel streaked for him, the Jackal extended one hand towards the falling ball of light, a quick rhyme under the Jackal's breath twisting the ball in midair and causing it to lose focus, becoming a simple ball of mild brightness - all the while, with careful timing, taking a single step to the right, and extending his scythe up and over his head.
The racketsabre met the metal of the scythe and slid off to the side - the object was not made of simple iron, apparently. As it slid, Rip continued to move, streaking like a bolt of lightning towards the very hard spot of stone where Laertes had stood just a moment before.

[nikename2]

An incredibly high sheening sound ripped forth as his racket made contact with the Muse' scythe, sending streaks of sparks forth in the direction of the sabre as the two weapons collided. Rip was moving much too fast with very little control from where he was in that split-second, his opponent taking his first two calling cards in stride and managing to dispell the third he had in store. Rips eyes widened up, and just barely he had thrusted the left portion of his body down below himself, using Lefty to absorb the majority of the impact on the indestructible earth. The impact setting off a thundering crack of unbearably high proportions, as if he was lightning itself.

That, combined with the screeching from his parried attack, raised the earsplitting pain ringing within his head up so high that he could barely stand it. His eyes were narrowing at the pain, yet still fiercely fixed on the face of his target, as strands of blood were slowly dripping downward from his ears. Rip whipped his racketsabre around to his side, the razors edge now behind him as his grip changed and reversed so he was holding it upside down. He then pulled himself forward with his left arm and set himself spinning in a spiral motion on the ground, bringing the razorblade on the edge of his racket and the stinger of his tail quickly sweeping back around and straight for Laertes' ankles. If it didn't work he was set to spring himself back to his feet for the next combination.

[Angel]

Sylvie did her best not to let go of her staff when Ian yanked it upward, but his swings downward shook her off. She thudded onto her back, trying to roll away from his last swing - but he managed to thwack her in the upper arm.

Sylvie let out a shout of pain herself and lifted herself off the ground with her good arm. The synthetic sunlight eased her pain a bit, but she was losing energy nonetheless - this was a tougher fight than she'd thought. And admittedly, that spell that now had Ian fused to her staff was a little uncalled for - this was just a practice match, right?

She backed up a step or two, then pointed right at her staff. She muttered a quick spell and the thorns retracted. Then she braced her arms in a defensive stance and tensed her legs to run, kick, whatever. She knew she probably wasn't as strong as the rat physically, so trying to attack him head-on would be stupid. Let him come to you, and get your staff back.

[Cogidubnus]

 Cogidubnus coughed, raising an eyebrow and grinning at Sahlena for a moment, amusement evident in his eyes before he nodded at the andriod. "A pleasure, Sahlena."
At Stygian's pleased expression at watching the fight with the Jackal outside, however, the wolf made a face. He sipped on his orange-colored drink, and murmured something under his breath before commenting to the android. 

"You think he'll take a bet?." the wolf said, looking at Sahlena from out the corner of his eye.

* * *

Seeing through layers of flame is difficult, and so it was that when a bullet of pressure blasted through the writhing, suddenly billowing fire, Giles was surprised. A quick, sharp curse permeated the air for just a moment, and the fires seemed to gather in front of him, as if the blackguard was reflexively trying to block the distortion.

It was to no avail - fire does not make a great shield, and as a result, the bullet slammed into the blackguard. It caught him square in the chest, the incredible force contained in the wave of pressure spinning the blackguard around and knocking him over. He barely managed to catch himself with his hand, falling to his knees instead of on his face.
Around him, the fires quickly began to dissipate, the unmoving blackguard no longer sustaining them.

The blackguard bared white teeth, his eyes filled with rage as he looked at the strange little Orin. He lurched to his feet, the ground around him covered in cinders and small fires, and he flipped his spear in a complete circle until it rested behind him.
He began to move, taking two steps forward and then two back and dexterously flipping the spear up and over his head and and in front of him - flames sprouted up from his feet and moving body, and yet another arc of fire blossomed out from behind the moving spear. Stopping the swing right as the spear became paralell with his body, he he moved forward again, taking only a single step, and grabbing the spear with only one hand twisted his body to thrust as far forward as he could. His other hand clenched into a fist, and sent the other flames spiraling up the haft of the spear.

A lance of fire shot forward, burning its way through trees, undergrowth and humid air alike to tear towards the little Orin.

* * *

Catching himself on his hand was a surprisingly effective technique, and Laertes wondered idly how much punishment those gauntlets might be able to take. In any case, as Rip flipped his sword into a reverse grip and crouched himself into position to strike, Laertes simply kept moving to the right, outdistancing the scorpion with only a few quick strides.

  Rip was fast, and rather than risk another spell, the Jackal simply used the one he had already. The golden light began to fade from his form, the Jackal using the stored divine energy as the spell it was to begin with.
Behind him and with a terrible grating sound, a pinwheel of opaque white light appeared, the blades of the circle seeming to cut themselves into existence as they grew. Bigger than the Jackal himself, Laertes stood in front of the whirling light and pointed at the scorpion angel with his scythe, a rhyming whisper flowing from his lips.

Stopping their turning in the air, the blades suddenly exploded outwards, flying and twisting up into the air before turning and descending towards the angel, each one desperate clawing towards the scorpion's heart.

[TheGreyRonin]

 Risky found an ashtray on the bar nearby and tapped the sahes of her cigarette into it. Watching the "angels" fighting in the Circle, she mumbled softly, "Haldeman would shit..."

Downing more of her drink, she cocked her head to listen to the conversation involving the steampowered bug, and watched it head over to petition the Queen. "Need to powder my nose."

Frowning, she got up and headed to the bathrooms, passing the armored bug. She paused, and said to no one in particular, "She's in hibernation. Likely be that way for a while. And if I catch anything planting her eggs for her, I'll roast them slowly."

Risky nodded to herself, and pushed open the door to the ladies' room, and closed it behind her after entering.

[lucas marcone]

Ian planted the staff in the ground deep enough for it to stand on it's own. "Hokay, we tried your way. Now let's try mine." Ian dashed up and aimed a knee at her side.

[Sunblink]

...Piix:

The rippling, invisible projectile of pressure worked more spectacularly than Piix had anticipated. It bypassed the typhoon of flame and cleaved effortlessly through the dirt, reminiscent of a torpedo rocketing through the ocean waters, colliding cleanly with Giles's heel as it was cocked in the middle of a hypnotic pivot. It was a hard, but ultimately successful struggle--it worked almost like a snare--simultaneous to the moment she tripped Giles up, he was slammed back down by an immense force.

Almost serendipitously, the fire surrounding Giles disintegrated, evanescing like smoky mist. Piix panted a little as she watched, recollecting herself. Conjuring up that pressure took quite the burden on the little Orin. She wasn't used to throwing down people who were not only mountainous in physique, but encumbered by heavy layers of armor. Either way, that hopefully disoriented Giles, who'd need some effort getting up--

--oh shit, he was already getting up. Piix's pupils dilated and forced her body into motion again, her back straightening, the Discus hovering between her shoulder-blades spinning rapidly. The three orbs which composed the Triad's formation accelerated the speed of their constant rotation to an almost hectic, helter-skelter degree, flashing intermittently. Piix grit her teeth and braced herself, keeping Orpiment up--

--she had good reason to. One step forward and Giles flung an enormous lance of fire at her with one furious sweep of his fire-conjuring blood-spear. Almost incomprehensible over the roar of the flame, Piix emitted a loud shriek, then scrambled as fast as she could off to the side, once more gathering together and manipulating the gravity around her to propel her past the incoming fire. Again, Piix was catapulted into the air, sending her sailing a good distance away from the flame, just as it swept over the trees and foliage behind her. Instantly, the vegetation was decimated, obliterated into charred husks of ash-laden skeletons and barren black earth.

Piix spun around in the midst of her jump, watching the destruction with a dumbstruck look on her face. Landing on the ground, she heaved, stopping for a moment to stare at the demolished trail of burned foliage. The fire had cleanly annihilated a perfect trail through the neverending forest.

Snarling, Piix turned around, another gravity-manipulating spell spiraling in the palm of her hand, and shouted, "HEY! I thought I said NO KILLIN'!" With that exclamation, she flung the spell at Giles, the aforementioned enchantment adopting an appearance similar to her previous, similar spell, only condensed and composed into a spherical form.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

Noticing that, as expected, her glare had no real effect on Stygian, the android turned back to look at Cog when the wolf adressed her. She managed to convey something akin to curiosity, surprise and the general pleasant impression of someone having a conversation they really enjoyed, while at the same time adding a tang of jadedness and nonchalance at antics that have been done before and by then were easy to predict, all using only body language and a simple, partially hidden mouth-structure that was hard enough to interpret in the first place.
   ':what, him?' she asked Cog in return, and made a quick nod toward Stygian. ':i am sure he will, if only for amusement. i would not recommend you to bet against him though; he most often wins. in 83.63 percent of the cases, from what i have seen hitherto, though that probably excludes some data.' She shrugged, then placed her hand on the countertop and looked over to Boog again. ':one [Gin and Tonic], please,' she said, placing another coin on the top, and then turned back to Cog. ':it's really a win/win situation for him, why i think he would be happy to. if you ask me though, it seems as if your big /quote friend /unqote will lose.' The mouthparts under the smooth face plating turned up a bit at the corners. ';if for nothing else than rule violation.'

[Boog]

Boog snatched up the coin and set out the drink, mulling over what he'd been able to read off of her. A machine, yes, but (apparently) thinking. Plenty of things thought without actual intelligence; hell, he was of the opinion some of his patrons thus far did exactly that at times. However, she showed some signs of intelligence. That's what being a polite host was anyway; I'll pretend you're a person if you'll pretend I am. The thought entity set out the drink by the machine-woman's elbow.
"Actually, he hasn't. The rule was no killing anybody, and he hasn't killed anyone yet. By the very nature of the rule being set in the circle it becomes impossible to kill anyone." He grinned, "All you'll do is waste your time, and the circle will stop your attack on the other fighter's behalf. A little failsafe for... Less than Honorable individuals."

[techmaster-glitch]

Karazkt

   Karazkt barely moved when someone walked up behind him, and said a few things. Normally, he would have though about her saying something about laying eggs, did she think he intended to mate with the Queen? He would have been utterly revolted at the person. But, he did not think about this, because his mind stopped working after the first three words she said;
   She's in hibernation.
   If the Insectis had a heart the same way other things do, his probably would have stopped beating then and there, permanently. As it was, his body continued to function, agonizingly. He slowly looked up at her, but tried to keep his gaze as low as possible. He slowly reached up with one hand and slid his goggles back over his eyes, instantly sending him into pitch-blackness. Slowly, his infrareceptors warmed back up, and he looked carefully at her. Indeed, she was totally motionless, and her infrared signatures were unusually low. She was hibernating.
   Very slowly, he began backing away, and when he reached his mech, still moving slowly he climbed back into the cockpit, wincing at the chink of his tools on his bandolier and belt, which seemed unusually loud to his antennae. Once in the cockpit, he put the tips of his antennae into the intake ports, and clutched some of the innumerable controls in front of him.
   Squeezing his eyes shut as tight as he could, wincing terribly about what was about to happen, he shot fire down his antennae into the intake ports, while simultaneously moving some levers. The effect was instantaneous, the mech roared back to life, then quited to a low purr. Even so, the initial startup seemed so horrendously loud to him that he wanted to die right then and there. But he didn't, and he slowly opened his eyes again.
   The Queen hadn't moved.
   He made the mech slowly walk backwards, moving it slower and more delicately than what would have been thought possible. The metal behemoth only made a low crunch as it pressed into the wood floor, instead of a thud.
   Eventually, he had his mech moved all the way to the side of the inn opposite to the Queen. He shut down his mech again, and sat in the cockpit, fidgeting with his three-fingered hands, rocking back and forth, and shaking a little.
   He had disturbed a queen during her rest. This was unforgivable, whether she even noticed or not. He could not believe he had made such a fatal error, in his excitement and eagerness to pay his respects he had somehow not noticed this. He had no choice; he must submit himself to whatever punishment she deemed fit when she woke.

[nikename2]

Rip swept himself around on the floor from the momentum of his missed swipe, and break danced himself back upright onto his knees, then back into stance. Glaring into his opponent with his narrowing eyes, he snarled and gripped his aching forehead with his left hand as opponent released the final verse of the spell that was ahold of him. The spell released, forming blades forged of pure light in a spiraling pinwheel before him; the formation from the rippling reality around the blades was causing the air itself to scream.

Rip's threshold for taking this had just about had it, and he decided to put an end to it. Soft words rang forth from his lips as the blades whirled and twisted themselves into the air, the whole environment shimmering and becoming transparant. The radiance around himself and the energy exuding from his racket dissipating. The blades released diving downwards, passing harmlessly right through him as though they were a ghostly visage, incapable of affecting the corporeal world. "That's enough."

Rip's eyes became complacent, and an expression of a weary calm, overtaking his whole body. He twirled around his racket, then securely sheathed it onto his back, and faced away from the other angel. He then said, "So....that is how, they would have fought.....if they had been here now....thank you."

He then started to walk away toward the edge, reaching down at his tattered robes for something in particular, then wrapping the cloth itself around his waist. He stood up, then raised his right hand to wave as he crossed over the edge and walked back into the bar, heading right for the bartender at the counter. He slid currency before him, then grinned, "I think I'll take you up on that room now, hehe."

He gripped the roomkey that was slid before himself, then strolled up towards the stairway and headed down the hall on the second floor toward his room number....86. It seemed odd, the rooms were not exactly numbered in any particular order, most of them appeared to be blank, with soft numbering scribbled on them. He disregarded the oddity, and made his way in, lying himself down on the bed and descending into deep relaxation, leaving his mind to wander the eternities as he went into a deep sleep.

[Boog]

Boog pocketed the currency with a flourish, not looking up from some speck on the counter that had attracted his bartenderly ire. "Sleep well, don't let the bed yous bite. We serve breakfast every morning." Seeing as the sun never set in the little parasite dimension the Honor Circle was in, it wasn't as good a deal as it sounded like.

---

Siolen blinked and sneezed as the insectis inspected him, antennae tickling at his face. He was a bit too stunned to respond to the inspection and simply looked outside again, on the not uncommon assumption that if something's odd enough it probably isn't too relevant. One fight had just ended. Excellent. It was hard to make out the goings on within that dome. Perhaps the next combatants will have more spectator-friendly matches. He heard a little of what happened with Karazkt and the Queen behind his back, not understanding the clicking of the insectoid's language, but when that clicking took on a note of chattering teeth in reply to Risky he couldn't help but look.
Not unlike a child retreating to its treehouse when its parents are mad, the bug had scrambled back into his construct and retreated, shutting everything down. It was odd and attention grabbing, and when the strange man didn't emerge again Siolen decided to investigate. He climbed up to the cockpit of the vehicle like it was any other structure, the only differences being the occasional "clang!" or "bong!" of stone grabbing at metal. He peered at the pilot's seat, curiosity giving way to concern at the bug's nervous rocking and fidgeting. He seems so scared... The gargoyle had met a few alchemists, and as he met more and more as the sciences of his world progressed and magic fell to the background he was more and more of the opinion that they were, at a basic level, fragile creatures. Like children, except people nodded and looked ponderous when they made up words. He tapped his tail blade on the edge of the mech's entrance lightly once to get Karazkt's attention.
"Is something wrong, ah..." Ah, what was the proper way of addressing alchemists these days? Scientist? Doctor? Erhm... "Sir?" Can't go wrong with Sir, everyone likes being a Sir...

[Stygian]

':that's a convenient function,' the machine replied, without much bother. ';although one can easily imagine complex scenarios that might mess it up. when it has to deal with something that is not immediately lethal, for example. like napalm, or nano-corrosives, or my personal favorite, neurotoxin.' For some reason, Boog felt a pretty hard twinge of thought at that last statement, and a sort of deja-vu feeling, though it was hard to say why. ':or, for example, curses. not that i pretend to have any expertise within magic. i leave that stuff to things like you,' she then stated, looking straight at the Boogeyman.
   That was when the fight ended, and Rip resigned. Still smirking as viciously, Stygian slapped his glass down on the counter, and then laughed gleefully. Glad that he hadn't had to endure the chaos inside that dome, he kept on chuckling for a while, and then leaned over to the side on the counter again, head propped in his hand and looking at Cog and Risky.
   'You were saying something about bets?' he said, musingly. 'If you are referring to the fight still going on out there, I'm going for five against one that the fuzzy little caramel-thing wins.' He grinned and chuckled again, the hand at his side placing itself on his kneecap as he turned his leg out a bit and adjusted his seat. 'Of course, I'm not going to state my reasons why just yet.'