The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Angel]

If surprising Sylvie was what the man had hoped to do, he'd succeeded. Stygian's oddly detached tone sounded...out of place to her, in conjunction with what he was saying. She wanted to ask him to explain a little further...

And that's when it made sense to her. That was exactly what she hadn't done. The description of his occupation was, in the very least, related to the details of the events she'd purposefully failed to describe adequately. If she intended to learn anything more about Stygian, she was going to have to reveal a bit more about herself ... however much she may dislike this particular bit of her past.

"Does the same rule apply for witnessing such events en masse? I've always wondered if I was doing something wrong." Her tone didn't search for sympathy, and her eyes were serious, as well as the tiniest bit apologetic. She wasn't seeking pity, but explaining her discomfort about this topic.

[Boog]

Risky's strike hit dead on, sending Richard's head back with a snap as he rose out of the water. Now that just ain't fair, people with firearms aren't supposed to be good with close combat. The attack was solid and powerful but failed to stun the dead man; when the slightest twitch of your muscles takes a level of willpower that overcomes most laws of biology, one really stops having involantary reactions. One precise move of his leg kept him his balance, and another move of his arm aimed to keep Risky's foot as well with a grip like a vice. Even before he had a good hold on her Richard was going through with the motion that would pull her forward and off balance by her ankle while his other arm swept around toward her ribs with the end of the axe's handle...

[Stygian]

In a moment, Stygian's eyes flickered back to Sylvie, and he raised one eyebrow at her, looking somewhat pensive. If her concern was genuine... No, she seemed to be simply retorting to his statements. Or was she? There was some concern in her manner, all of a sudden... To be serious though, he did not have a good response to the question the elf had just posed. Not one that was simple, at least. So he would have to opt for quick instead.
   'To tell you the truth it all depends on perspective. The uninvolved should feel no remorse that they chose not to meddle. Not everyone has the capability to interfere in such a way that something good comes of it', he said, trying to tread lightly, but still to offer something of meaning. 'Most likely, people simply do not know, or understand. In my experience, the most important things are often far from the most evident.' He leveled his eyes with Sylvie's, and mirrored her own seriousness back to her in full. 'There are things that pass normal people by entirely, things that they never get to know of or that doesn't even affect them... but that may well change the very fate of entire nations.'
   Taking a brief pause to look away, Stygian glanced over the bar top, as if expecting that another drink would have materialized. Narrowing his eyes when he found nothing, he leaned forward on his shoulder, and fumbled into his pocket. In a swift motion, he slipped out a long, grayish cigarette, and slipped into his mouth. He didn't care what Boog would say. It was a damn theoretically-existent bar on the borderline of reality. They had things a lot worse to deal with than a little tobacco smoke. So he flicked out his lighter. An eerily green-cyan flame sprung into life, lighting his cigarette, and he had a long pull on it, before exhaling a bluish cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.
   'It's hard. Too hard for any one person to be able to afford feeling too much, and for looking out for too many', he said, then leaned over and looked closely at Sylvie, even more closely than before. 'I at least know that I get paid, and what is happening. And that most of the people I deal with... have it coming.'

[Cogidubnus]

 Perhaps it was because it had been a long, long time since anyone had tried to engage Giles in close melee combat, or perhaps it was the shifting sands underfoot keeping his balance as precarious as a drifting dune, but Dani's attack was more effective than one might have guessed - his own spear, ever-burning, swung down to meet the red-haired girl's slice with it's own iron haft, but the leg sweep managed to get in a solid hit. Ordinarily hitting those black-iron armored legs would have been like hitting a column, but with the arena as it was, the sand's shifting betrayed him, and he stumbled backwards, falling.
What might have surprised the girl, of course, was how the fire flared as he did so, and continued to grow brighter as the man hit the ground rolling, gaining his feet with surprising alacrity.

"Didn't expect that one, no!" the man laughed, staggering to his feet and now jogging backwards, his right hand lazily spinning his spear about. "No, no, most people see fire, they think they'll get burned." The man grinned wide, and the fire around him billowed and grew. What was a simple coating of fire soon became the blaze of a bonfire, ever-expanding outwards from the man with every step, every twirl of the spear, with every movement of rhythm the man made.
"Most of them are righ', though." he said, and his statement was soon followed by manic, nearly mad laughter, the battle-cry of the berserker.

[TheGreyRonin]

 Risky felt her kick strike home, saw Richard's head go back..then felt him grab her foot with a grip like steel. Pulled forward, she bent her left knee, hoping to drop down and forward and possibly score on his right knee.

But as she did the axe handle swept around, glancing off her left temple and causing her vision to blur.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

Keaton couldn't begrudge herself for feeling some distinct satisfaction at knowing she had damaged Sahlena in some way. It wasn't particularly sadism which motivated this. It was the idea that Keaton had reciprocated Sahlena's previous attacks and was starting to build more of an advantage. Hopefully, that successful blow administered to Sahlena's shoulder would open the way for more positive momentum in this battle - but now wasn't the time for meaningless speculation. If Keaton suspected this was going to start building against Sahlena, she had to make it happen.

Sahlena's foot came flying at Keaton. Yelping loudly, Keaton twisted herself to the side, feeling the machine's heel nick her shoulder and watching it, out of the corner of her peripheral vision, glance off of the floor. Moving so quickly was taking somewhat of a toll on Keaton's body, given the fact she was still aching terribly from where Sahlena's kick landed and was resisting the urge to regurgitate blood, but she tried to remain relentless. As she managed to evade Sahlena's first kick, she jerked upright, again aiming another blow for Sahlena by swinging Catastrophe around in a quicksilver motion.

---

...Dekuyaketh:

If Dekuyaketh said there wasn't some personal satisfaction or entertainment gleaned from watching his fist impact Laertes's face, he would have been lying. It was almost cathartic, watching blood geyser from the priest's mouth as his teeth and bone splintered beneath his fist, even if Dekuyaketh knew this almost reinforced the fact he possibly deserved Laertes's scorn in the first place. Such emotional baggage went entirely neglected, however. Dekuyaketh was almost positive the battle was won. He started to withdraw his mechanical arm, upswelling lightning crackling within the foundations of that mechanical apparatus.

It was around that time Laertes let his hand fly forward, a triad of glowing cerulean rings encircling his hand. Dekuyaketh's pupils pinpricked, and he accelerated the movement of his mechanical arm. His mind anticipated the effects of that hand if it had the misfortune of making contact with his arm. Despite the fluidity of Dekuyaketh's movements, he felt the three rings of azure crackle and lash about him as it effectively cleaved through the enormous gemstone crowning the center of the hieroglyphs on the mechanical arm's forearm, lacerating the ruby from its base as smoothly as a knife would glide through butter and letting it clatter to the floor. If Dekuyaketh was a slower individual, he undoubtedly would have lost his arm. At the moment, however, in what could only be described as blistering agony as Dekuyaketh attempted to recuperate from the loss of that gemstone - something which was considered a relatively insensitive attachment to his mechanical arm - he wasn't of the state of mind to appreciate this.

Ichorous oil-blood swelled and flowed around the decapitated chunk of gemstone, each tar-like droplet seething with electricity. It was almost like having hot magma overflow from its vein. Letting out a guttural snarl, Dekuyaketh spun back, and flung his uninjured, organic arm forward at Laertes's face.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Paladin Sheppard]

Pal thanked the odd barman, and slid some Furrae coinage back to pay for the drinks and a few rounds after.  Sipping from the large glass his vodka and redbull was in, Pal looked around at his surroundings.

The wolf neglected to look at his warp-aci companion as Rex climbed onto the bar and over to the large jug of dark beer. Standing on his back legs Rex began to drink. As the level of Guinness dropped so the warp-aci followed until Rex was completely inside the jug, his black colouring and shape almost masking him as the remains of the beer. A small paw shot out of the glass jug. *Refill please!*

[Stygian]

'Either way, it's far from as bad as people make it out to be. The least one can ask is that some purpose be served with one's death', Stygian continued, inhaling lengthily on his cigarette, and then breathing out equally lingeringly. 'Considering how prone people are to dying for other reasons... Well, the Machiavellian types knew even from the start, but after a while even the most stubborn and politically correct learn that life isn't top priority. Or, at least, they adapt to it.'
   He wasn't really speaking to anyone but himself anymore. Realizing he was digressing, the man shook his head, and looked back to Sylvie. Watching her chlorophyll face for a second, and her look, something struck him, and his gaze became even more intensive, trying to catch hers.
   'But that's not what bothers you, is it?' he said, more of a statement than a question. 'It's your conscience, and not your loathing of death.' He kept his gaze on her like that a bit, eerily still and steadily darkening.
   'People like you aren't common where you come from, are they?' he said, at last. His eyes were black now, a cold and hard gleam to them.

- -

If Keaton thought that it would have been easy to hit Sahlena, even after she had been damaged, she was mistaking herself. Still, the enchantments on the Cubi's mace allowed her to swing it with terrible speed, at least for such a huge weapon. The rounding movement worked to the mechanical woman's disadvantage though, as she did not have time to dodge that follow-up. The tip of the wickedly spiked mace took into her arm, and in spite of her most solid structure tore it up, mashing it and causing a quick spray of sparks. The machine let out a mangled series of sounds that sounded half like a broken trash compactor and half like a faulty modem.
   The next motion probably took the jackal as much by surprise as the machine had just been surprised herself. With a loud snap, the machine's arm jumped out of her shoulder socket, falling clattering to the ground, and with a strange rasping growl, the metallic woman threw herself at Keaton, one spinning blade viciously swiping for the succubus' ribs. She was moving faster now, much faster, and she was fighting with decidedly less elegance and eye-pleasing fluidity now, and with far more brutal efficiency, moving parts whirring and dazzling the jackal's eyes as the machine hunched and fell into a much less humanoid movement pattern, and more menacingly alien.

[Angel]

Sylvie watched Stygian carefully, taking in what he said and the way he said it. He hadn't immediately asked her what had happened, nor had he shown gratuitous pity. His answer, a little confusing at first, made sense to her after some thought. He was being more straightforward than almost anyone she'd ever met, and he'd eased her guilt a little. She wasn't scared of him, even when he leaned closer than he had before. She just couldn't think of a response.

Then the man looked away for a moment, seeming to remember something. Sylvie didn' stop listening, still trying to figure out how to lead on the conversation further. But then he did that for her as he turned back to her, his eyes going dark. She held back a shudder at this little change as she answered at last.

"Greens have never been common back home," she said, carefully. "We popped up a few years ago, and after we figured out just how uncommon we were, we stayed in the forest. Except for me," she added, almost as an afterthought. "Then I managed to learn firsthand what it's like to be a rarity." Her eyes grew a little distant as she began to remember, although she was still looking at Stygian. "I don't know whether people with a conscience are that common either," she said, a sneaky little trickle of bitterness edging its way into her voice. "Those who do have them seem to either end up in terrible situations, or die. But there are a few who live long enough to help people without them."

---

Wow, it actually worked, Dani thought after her slightly suicidal first attack proved more useful than she'd expected. As she watched the blackguard roll down the dune she now stood atop, something caught her attention - the flames went higher. And they continued to grow as he moved away from her, laughing crazily and taunting her. The fire was now growing to the size of an inferno, with every step Giles took...

Movement. It finally hit her. A strange trigger, but she'd found it nonetheless. Now to figure out how to use it to her advantage... A science class discovery occurred to her, Her smirk played across her lips yet again as she edged closer to the flames.

"That's the thing about Reds!" she called in response to Giles. "We don't just think we'll get burned; we know we will be, without fail, every single time we play with fire!"

Here her smirk grew to a grin, a bit smaller than the one worn by the blackguard. "We just don't care." And she moved dangerously close to the bonfire and sliced a swath of sand right toward Giles's face. What happens when you melt sand, pyro?

[Cogidubnus]

 If Laertes's broken mouth could have grinned at that point, it would have broken into a gleeful, malicious smile as the three circles emanating from his palm managed to scratch the demon's apparently...delicate, machine-arm. A geyser of ichorous, sizzling blood fountained up from the wound he had inflicted, the three rings of light slicing a very gem in half in his wild swing. It set the priest's mind aflame with glee.
And then he continued falling.

He hit the ground with a thud, and blinding, nauseating pain blossomed up from his jaw. The demon's blow had broken the bones in the lower half of his muzzle so badly that his teeth no longer lined up, and the Jackal couldn't shut his mouth at all - his teeth didn't even line up anymore, his jaw set at an angle to itself. Speaking would be impossible as well, and the priest's greatest weapon of his voice would be useless. Black pain threatened to overwhelm him.
He even started to feel the cold of the arena, the icy chill permeating his robe. Blood poured down his chain, staining his chin and clothing a macabre red.

Dekuyaketh punched at him with his biological arm, and Laertes saw his chance. His left hand glowing a thick blue, he began to massage his chin with healing magics, and like a bolt of lightning attempted to palm the demon's fist with his right hand, the three glowing rings of light still emanating from his palm.

* * *

While a smart move by the red, she'd perhaps misjudged the heat produced by Giles's fire at that moment - the temperature at which pure sand becoming glass being around 4200 degrees fahrenheit. Giles's flames weren't quite that hot.
Yet.

Spluttering and coughing for a moment, the blackguard nearly paused as grit and sand obstructed his vision and got into his mouth - Dani had, for all intents and purposes, just thrown sand in his eyes, and while a effective if not particularly honorable tactic, perhaps not one that would serve her well, in this instance.
"Oh, you want to play dirty, huh?" Giles said, his voice edged, and no longer quite so mirthful. "Fine. Let's play dirty."

The Blackguard abruptly changed direction, stopping from jogging away from the Red and quickly moving forward - but not quite jogging. His steps somehow staggered, and his movement now quick, then slow, and even with the use of his spear as a prop he somehow made his charge at Dani not so much a run as a dance, and the fire around him began to build exponentially, larger and larger with every rhythmic movement the pyromancer made. Invisible within the flames, a roiling ball of fire charged for her, reaching out with arms of fire to encompass the girl entirely. Around the top of the inferno, the flames began to swirl, a vortex of flame forming high in the sky. Sand skittered about as Giles's fire, consuming oxygen and air at a phenominal rate, began to form it's own wind.
Deep withing the fire, a spot of blue began to form.

"Ashes to ashes, Red!" the blackguard called, his voice manic in the flames.

[Stygian]

Easing down the look, Stygian straightened and went silent for a while, thinking. He had gone out on a hunch there, and it seemed as if he had been wrong in the meaningful point of it... But how? There was something personal there. Very personal, considering the tone of her voice.
   'There's a great difference between having a conscience and taking responsibility for everything', he replied, only dimming the defensiveness in his voice but not trying to hide it completely. 'Just like between courage and foolhardiness. And...' he continued, leaning in again to look at the elf, 'between creating the horrors of life and simply recognizing them.' His eyes fixed straight at hers, something greenish gleamed down in their pitch depths. 'Or do you resent someone who's realized he can't change the world any other way for it?'

[Sunblink]

...Piix:

At long last, Piix's attention was attracted to the newcomer by Pal's Warp-Aci vociferously demanding another drink. Her ears quirked attentively; her lips twisting in a confused, flat line around the rim of the cup from which she was delicately sipping. After a while she simply watched the glowing creature, perplexed by its reality-bending visage, until her eyes wandered to its owner, and subsequently the hefty weapon strapped to his back. Accompanying that weapon were many, many others, practically encrusting his frame.

Being a fellow wielder of heavy weaponry, Piix was intrigued by this. The Orin inquisitively canted her head, finally lifting herself from her seat with drink in hand. Giles was in a battle and the handsome blond furless was preoccupied with that green-skinned lady (Piix bristled enviously, stifling an irritable growl), so it wasn't like she had anything better to do, anyway. It was worth a shot.

In the next moment, Piix was right behind Pal, standing on her tiptoes as she attempted to reach up and poke him on his shoulder. "Uh, hey!" she said, trying to get his attention. "Yo! Where'd - uh, where'd y'get tha' fantastic-lookin' axe of yers?"

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Boog]

Boog looked at the little paw sticking out of the glass and thought for a second, before finally shrugging. Ours is not to reason why, ours is just to pour the booze, or die. As he refilled the drink (drenching the warp-aci still in the glass) his mouth quirked into a small smile. He was starting to really settle into this bartending thing. Easiest gig in the world.

--

Not one to let an opportunity pass by, Richard attempted to catch his opponent in the chest with his elbow, dropped his axe and grappled for Risky's gun with both hands.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

Keaton nearly felt her jaw drop as she witnessed the spectacular effects of her strike, but managed to keep her mouth firmly clamped shut despite her profound shock. Catastrophe's head sailed through Sahlena's arm, sweeping away the mechanical limb in a deluge of sparks and tattered cables. Formerly meticulous cables belched great, electrical gouts into the air, that geyser of sparks lasting for a tremendous few seconds before it suddenly silenced. Keaton watched the damaged arm leap out of its socket with a clear expression of surprise engraved into her features, resisting the urge to allow her gaze to follow its descent to the ground. This possibly saved her a great deal of trouble, as, when she kept herself attentive, she was able to watch Sahlena prepare her blade and send it flying toward Keaton.

Keaton yelped and tried to pull herself back, just barely succeeding. The sharpened tip grazed over her abdomen, lacerating a sharp, thin line of blood and torn skin across the cream-yellow fur. Snarling, Keaton brought Catastrophe up and swung it forward again, attempting to nail the machine in a more debilitating place. Sahlena was becoming truly dangerous with her accelerated speed, leaving Keaton little option other than try to immobilize her.

---

...Dekuyaketh:

Any satisfaction Dekuyaketh was experiencing vanished almost immediately when he saw Laertes, in spite of the agony he was possibly going through, react and lurch to life, swinging his hand toward his incoming arm. As he had not anticipated for Laertes to keep fighting, Dekuyaketh had little time to react or try to evade the impending blow, and could only use what little preparatory time that existed to brace himself, and try to minimize the damage. He curbed himself as Laertes's palm impacted his fist, the simultaneous contact disappearing in a swelling torrent of blue light, flaring outward from those writhing rings encircling Laertes's palm.

Dekuyaketh felt light burst through his flesh, popping and sizzling the surface of his skin. Bone crumbled away to ash within his skin and his arm shriveled away in the burning concentration of light, and even with all of Dekuyaketh's preparation he heard himself scream. He drew his arm sharply back with what little of his muscles remained, and watched in shock as the remainder of his arm simply dissolved. All that was left was a charred portion of his skeleton beneath the frayed and mangled chunks of haphazardly-strewn flesh, clinging onto the bone. Dekuyaketh stared down at the remains of his arm, then up at Laertes, his expression at first frozen in a petrified mask of shock and pain.

Then, he clenched the fist of his mechanical arm again, and snarled loudly.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Paladin Sheppard]

Paladin swung round and looked down at the Orin, "it's a family heirloom, we've no idea quite how old it is just that its been passed down the like for a heck of a lot of generations." Pal stuck out one of his huge (in comparison to Piix's) "Paladin Sheppard, and you are?"


Rex had opened his mouth as the Boogyman had poured the Guinness, causing it to take a bit longer than normal to fill the jug. *Thanks alot mister!* He said once he was swimming in the dark beer.

[Angel]

Dani blinked once, a little dumbfounded. Her attack had worked - but not quite the way she'd hoped. Instead of spattering freshly melted glass onto Giles's face, she'd thrown sand in his eyes. Somehow, I don't think "whoops, sorry" is going to cover this one... The blackguard didn't look amused at all. In fact, he was now giving the Red a very deadly look, and the amused tone was gone from his voice almost completely. His movements became more calculated and rhythmic now as he approached her, almost like he was dancing. And the flames were getting more powerful, more widespread... and then a fireball launched itself at her, spreading and stretching, trying to burn her whole.

Screaming, the prison guard started to sprint away from the flames before throwing herself to the ground, strategically covering the pole of her weapon. The spreading fireball passed over her without hurting her too severely, although half of her left arm, which she'd covered her head with, got second-degree burns. Additionally, her ponytail, which hadn't gotten out of the way as quickly as she had, was now alit.

Dani quickly rolled over and scooped sand onto her flaming hair; once she was sure that danger had passed, the Red stood up, jammed the butt of her glaive deep into the sand, and watched in awe as the flaming vortex rose from where Giles stood. True, he probably wasn't really standing, but she didn't bother trying to look for him within the fire. I just need to get close to him somehow without dying, or being sucked up and burned to death... Narrowing her eyes with resolve, she wrapped one arm around the polearm and cracked her knuckles.

The second the cracking sound left her finger joints, a bolt of red lightning arced out of her knuckles and along the ground towards the blue epicenter of the hell-fire. Dani's jaw dropped...and then a look of pure, sadistic joy spread over her face.

"Aw, no bleeping WAY..."

---

That last question confused Sylvie for reasons even she was only partly familiar with. She relaxed a little at the diminishing blackness in Stygian's eyes, and thought over her response a little at hearing his slightly defensive tone. He was right; people didn't need to feel guilty for everything in order to have moral standards. She wondered, though, whether the people she'd been referring to even had the latter...

"Any other way than what?" she asked, not accusingly or bitterly, just curiously. "Creating the horrors of life? It really depends on the person," she said, meeting Stygian's gaze head-on. "The person I was thinking of could probably have made his living some other way, but he chose piracy, theft and mass murder. The fact that he kidnapped me and a few of my friends didn't really help his image either. And as far as I know, he could have turned out differently."

She drummed her fingers on the can again, enjoying the cold moisture condensing on its surface. "If one had no choice in the matter, or had more important reasons behind their actions than a lust for power, I can see how it would be different. I just haven't met many people like that."

[Stygian]

Exhaling, Stygian looked down, and smirked. Something personal, but it wasn't precisely as serious as he had thought. Still, what Sylvie was talking about... Hostage situations were never pleasant things, though somehow, when he looked at the elf, he strongly doubted that she ever had or would see, or could even believe some of the elements of horror and darkness that he took as simple facts. But her loathing could be just as strong for that. And he had to watch out, in that case. She could very easily begin to imagine him as just the same as this other man she was referring to.
   'Well, I have to say that I'm relieved that it was not me you were really thinking of', he said, not continuing. He wasn't going to tell her his more personal opinions on certain things. He'd rather remain 'professional' in what he said, but seem amiable. But he was going to be honest with her. 'I will say though that there might come a time when you want to re-evaluate your opinion on choice and consequence.' He puffed lightly on his cigarette, pausing slightly. 'I'm not about to give you an itemized reading list, but you might want to investigate a little more into how people behave. Under the right circumstances...' he continued, and then took out the stump between his teeth. Looking at it, he put his index finger and thumb to the end, and slowly pinched it between them, smothering it with a little fizz. If it had hurt, he didn't so much as flinch from it. '...everyone can become a killer. The question is just what kind of killer.'

- -

Had it been a normal fight and under normal circumstances, Keaton might have succeeded in her attempt to drive her opponent back. As it was though, Sal was apparently both enraged and just too fast for her. Not to mention that in terms of unpredictability, the machine had every advantage. As she demonstrated with her next attack. When Keaton swung forward, the machine, already crouched and close to her, flipped over forward, standing on one hand, while bringing up her feet above her instead. In a heartbeat, two gripper-like feet came up, closing around the jackal's arm which moved slowly in comparison to the end of the mace, and hooked around it. A furious yank, and then the Succubus was lifted up and swung around in a rough semicircle and over the machine, and then slammed into the concrete floor, back-first.

[Cogidubnus]

 Dekuyaketh snarled, and in the midst of blinding pain, the jackal saw his chance. Already leaning forward, the Jackal continued with the motion, the rings in his hands dispelling as he raised the appendage, beckoning - the scythe spun into his hand lazily, with the eerie slowness of something done with both grace and speed, and neglecting his blood-dripping muzzle for a moment, placed both hands on the black haft. He rose gently, spinning on one knee and rising to his feet even as he swung with the scythe.

Like an eerie blue line, the scythe arced for Dekuyaketh, blood and spittle flying from Laerte's mouth as the scythe's momentum carried him through the swing.

* * *

If one thing about being cocooned in over thirty square feet of raging fire was bad, the regular risk of dying being excluded, than it was damn hard to see what was going on outside the thick curtains of flame. The red bolt of lightning caught the blackguard completely off guard, and with a rather out-of-character scream, the pyromancer fell over, momentarily stunned. Black spots swam in front of his eyes, and the flames began to die, dwindling.
When the Pyromancer regained his senses, the flames had dwindled to almost half of what they were - the blue epicenter was gone, and the swirling winds died. His eyes narrowed and grimacing fiercely, the blackguard yelled something incomprehensible, and once again began his dance, with rhythms and with fury.

"I will burn everything to ashes around your ears, whelp!" Giles screamed, suddenly cocking his arm back. "And I will dance on your black, sticky bones!"
Using his spear like a javelin, the pyromancer threw the polearm high over the Red's head, fire trailing after it like a comet. It hit the sand and stuck, and just moment later, fire began to spread outwards from it, like someone had poured runners of gasoline from it in a large, large semicircle - eventually reaching all the way back to the blackguard himself. The fire seemed low then, except for where it was near the pyromancer - but it was growing larger with every moment.

The blackguard worked quickly, and the fire around him grew, and grew - spiraling again at the top, and the core around the blackguard himself beginning to tint with a superhot blue. Every moment, the fires grew larger.

Giles worked on making his hell.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

The results were as predicted: after being flung so unceremoniously into the air, Keaton impacted the floor heavily, a hideous crunching noise ringing out from a possibly broken bone in her back over the sound of her pained scream. Keaton writhed momentarily on the ground like an upturned cockroach, her limbs spasming and her hands threatening to relinquish Catastrophe, which she was steadfastly clinging to even when she was thrown over the machine. After a humiliating and agonizing second of flailing, Keaton rested her hands on the ground and turned herself onto her belly, resisting the urge to start coughing and hacking at the sudden, uncomfortable swelling sensation churning in her esophagus. A tremor ran down her bruised body; she let out an irritated snarl, and then glanced up wearily. Blue and black sparks coalesced threateningly from Catastrophe, interlaced with twining strands of black plasma.

---

...Piix:

Piix nodded affirmatively to Paladin, folding her arms. Unfortunately for her, Orpiment didn't have nearly as prestigious a history. The hammer was comparatively mundane, just the latest weapon she had used to replace her last one, which was of a slightly inferior quality. When Paladin proffered his hand, Piix glanced down at it, then grinned widely and accepted it in her significantly smaller, four-fingered paw, shaking it.

"Nice t'meet ya, Mister Sheppard. Th'name's Piix."

---

...Dekuyaketh:

Dekuyaketh felt sick. It wasn't only because of the fact he had been so brutally robbed of his arm, but because he kept reprimanding himself for his stupidity in how he embarrassingly underestimated Laertes, even in his vulnerable state. Because of that ridiculous maneuver, Dekuyaketh was missing one half of his arsenal. Part of the advantage of being so adept in unarmed combat meant he could never be disarmed, but on the opposite side it meant he was drastically weakened in a situation such as this.

Laertes came thrashing at Dekuyaketh in the next moment, swinging his scythe in a sweeping, blue-laced arc. Dekuyaketh felt his pupils pinprick into tiny, gilded dots, the mechanical eye resting over his organic eye reacting aptly. Clenching his remaining fist and ignoring the fresh upswell of pain which crackled through his tattered veins, Dekuyaketh attempted to sidestep the incoming sweep one last time, twisting himself to the side. Encumbered by pain as he was, he couldn't particularly manage such a sharp maneuver so thoroughly - and he knew it, so he knew he'd have to sacrifice some aspect of his defenses to prevent further damage. In his decelerated movements, Dekuyaketh felt the scythe bypass him, effortlessly sawing through a great chunk of his obliterated organic arm's skeleton. The bony structure slumped to the ground, clattering. Dekuyaketh gasped sharply, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut. He wrenched open his eyelids again, feeling electricity peal from his glowing, golden-amber irises in coalescing rings of red.

And with a snarl, Dekuyaketh swung his leg around and tried to bring it down onto Laertes's body, his foot coming down like a guillotine.


~Keaton the Black Jackal

[TheGreyRonin]

 Landing on her back in the sand, Risky twisted just enough to the side to turn the elbow strike to her chest into a bruising but less severe blow. Blinking tears from her eyes, she felt more than saw Richard grab at her holster, trying to take her gun.

Training took over where thought failed. She grabbed his arms, and a red glow began to seep out of her hands. The scent of something cooking could be heard as she pulled at him.

[Paladin Sheppard]

Paladin waved Piix to the stool next to him. "So what brings you here? Its not quite your average Inn...."

The Wolf took another swallow of his drink. This being...Or creature, Pal had yet to decide which, was interesting despite his knowing very little of her. And hell she was attractive in an exotic way.

[Angel]

Thank goodness. She'd guessed correctly for once. Sylvie relaxed once again, getting a little lost in thought. She knew enough from prison about different reasons for murder – revenge, self-defense, severe mental problems, money, etc. The idea of someone unexpected committing murder was nothing surprising to her. But somehow, what Stygian had said still confused her a bit. She showed only mild surprise about the man's apparent lack of pain from putting out the cigarette with his fingers before speaking again.

"I wouldn't judge you that quickly without knowing the reason why you've done what you have," she told him honestly. Then she thought for a bit and added, "You don't need to tell me the reason, though. It seems like it must have been a sound one, from what you've said, and I'm not about to act as a moral paragon. Still, I can't help but feel that there's always a choice involved in such things. Emotions, circumstance and past come into it, but someone could still choose not to kill." She sipped her juice in thought. "Unless you were talking about the point where survival becomes the motive."

---

As that rewarding scream hit her ears and the flames around Giles died, Dani grinned ever wider, pulled her glaive out of the ground and began to charge for him. But then the blackguard recovered just as quickly as his flames had cooled. The Red took a few steps back as the flames began to grow; then she felt and heard a hot whoosh of air over her head. She spun around just in time to see Giles's spear land in the desert behind her.

When fire began to spread outward from the weapon, Dani moved quickly away, watching as the arid wasteland around them began its slow transformation into a glowing, smoldering death trap. For a second or two, all was silence, save for the crackling of the flames and the echoes of the pyromancer's voice.

And then Dani split her face into a wide grin, threw back her head and laughed insanely.

"I don't think you realize yet just how much you've helped me, Lord of Ashes!" she called to the blue-again center of the blaze. She backed up, onto a nearby dune, and held up one hand, her glaive held out before her in an attack stance. But rather than try a run into Hell, she reached up with her free hand and snapped one knuckle.

Almost immediately, the ground started to rumble. A mound rose in front of Dani, rolling towards Giles at amazing speed. The prison guard's eyes widened again, but this time she didn't waste her opportunity. She bolted rapidly behind the rolling dune, heading straight for the blackguard and aiming to slash at his arms.

[Stygian]

Suddenly and without warning, Stygian grinned again. 'Already presume that it's something I've done, and not something I am doing? You don't know, and I shouldn't expect you to. So I don't think I can explain the pleasure I feel for my line of work to you... Let's not delve too deeply into that though, shall we?' he said, a bit pointedly but without hostility. 'We come from different worlds, literally... Because I don't suppose that yours is mostly an industrial wasteland?' The shifting of subject came in a casual enough tone that he thought he might get away with it.

- -

Had Sahlena been capable of widening her eyes - or more accurately, her optical sensors - at the jackal, she would have. The static buildup was already massive, and steadily increasing. The succubus was down, but if she would have the time to strike... She had already shown that she could severely damage the machine, given the chance. Any further attack thus had to be stopped, before it could begin.
   ':don't...!' she rasped at the jackal, stepping forward. Deceptively gently, a cold metallic foot laid itself over Keaton's neck. ':you don't. have. a chance.'

[Cogidubnus]

 The scythe cut, slicing cleanly through the cold, cold air, and Laertes, if he could have spoken, would have cursed.

Dekuyaketh's drop-kick connected sickeningly with the Jackal's back, with a sound like a sledgehammer hitting dirt. His legs slipped out from under him, and his scythe dropped out of his hands. He hit the ground with a thud, and lay still.

* * *

Even in the midst of the fire, Giles would have to be blind to miss an entire hill heading for him. He wasn't -entirely- sure what the girl was trying to do - perhaps bury him, or knock him off his feet, or something, although it escaped the blackguard's mind exactly what.
He gritted his teeth. She could laugh now. She wouldn't laugh when that pretty red hair was burning.

It was apparent that things needed to heat up a lot more, a lot faster. If she wanted to start throwing hills at him, well, he could start pulling out the big guns too. In all fairness, it wasn't as big as an entire hill, just a mound in the earth rolling towards him at a ridiculous speed - but still. In some ways, the earth was his ally too.
The blackguard screamed, in rage, and the fires around him responded in kind, burning yet brighter than before. A wave of heat rolled across the desert.

Giles began to step backwards, and as the dot of blue fire moved, the ground in front of him gleamed - rough, unpolished glass, half-molten lay underneath where his feet trod. The mound, moving at such great speed, hit the glass like a bucket of sand on asphalt, spraying up into the air, and then falling down in a clump. Some of it hit the blackguard's face, and melted, and began to drip off his chin and nose. He grin grew manic, and his eyes were filled with fury. Tiny, red spots blossomed in the man's ice-blue eyes.
If the Red wished to slash at his arms, she'd have to go through thirty feet of fire.

The fire changed in nature. Where before it was a simple bonfire, the flames suddenly began to swirl as though they were a vortex, or a tornado of flames. The wind picked up, and she felt a few bits of sand sting her cheeks.
Deep in the heart of the flames, she heard the man laugh again, his voice not even recognizable anymore. Behind the man's laughter, clearly insane, she felt the ground beneath her rumble, just slightly.

[Sunblink]

...Keaton:

The pulsating wreath of particles and electricity surrounding Catastrophe writhed, then flared spectacularly as Sahlena thrust her foot down, positioning her heel threateningly over Keaton's throat. The beleaguered jackal released a startled, choking noise in the back of her throat at this surprising maneuver, her expression frozen in a masque of horror. She didn't say anything in response to Sahlena, yet, as though she was still registering the enormity - and the vulnerability - of her situation. As Keaton started to comprehend that her predicament was not, in fact, a horrendous hallucination or something easily avoidable, she began to feel slightly sick. Could have been attributed to Sahlena's armored foot's proximity to her throat.

Keaton hated losing. It reminded her of her inadequacies, all those little insecurities she didn't have the ability to escape. Especially when she had made such a big deal out of winning before, after she defeated Rip... now she was going to look like an idiot!

...Christ, her back hurt.

Even in her current state, Keaton wasn't bereft of better judgment. She knew that Sahlena had the upper hand, and this momentary indignity was not worth risking her life. Somewhat reluctantly, Keaton shakily attempted to swallow, so she could moisten her throat appropriately to carry her next words. "I - o... okay. Uncle...

"You win."

After a moment, Keaton begrudgingly added, because she felt it was necessary, "Well... well done."

---

...Piix:

"Hm?" Piix seemed almost befuddled at Paladin's question, as though she had no idea how to answer. For a moment, she pondered using one of her many excuses formulated prior to entering the bar, but instead she sighed with resignation. Probably wouldn't hurt to be honest, for once.

Piix walked over to the stool next to Paladin, and hopped up onto it, seating herself there. "Me? I was lookin' f'r a friend o' mine. Real good friend," Piix scratched behind one of her ears. "I've been lookin' nonstop f'r I dunno how long. Decided t' take a break... an' if I was lucky, I'd see 'im 'ere."

---

...Dekuyaketh:

After his leg made its crushing impact with Laertes's spine, Dekuyaketh quickly withdrew his leg, ignoring the incessant, blistering pain still persisting in the mangled remnants of his desecrated organic arm. Narrowing his eyes and inhaling deeply, Dekuyaketh watched the effects of his kick unfold over Laertes, taking a few cautionary steps back to avoid any potential outbursts. The priest had proved himself to be unpredictable at combat, and Dekuyaketh wouldn't be terribly surprised if Laertes had perfected some way to endure such an immense blow to his back.

Fortunately for Dekuyaketh, this was not the case. Laertes slumped instantaneously to the ground, his legs buckling and his scythe toppling from his hands. Dekuyaketh remained where he was just in case, maintaining his battle posture (imperfect and unbalanced due to the loss of his organic arm). He waited. A look of absolute shock sinking into his handsome features, Dekuyaketh staggered back and leaned against the furthermost wall, regaining his breath. He remained there for a while, just recollecting himself and piecing together his composure again. In comparison to his earlier caricature of resolution and mocking indifference, Dekuyaketh looked quite dilapidated - his organic arm was mostly gone, partially dissolved amidst the tattered remains of the sleeve of his jacket, his mechanical arm throbbing with erratic, tense pulses of compressed energy. Sweat matted Dekuyaketh's forehead and his eyes were unfocused, yet wild, the pupils contracted into sharp slits. Dekuyaketh was almost positive that, with the missing button to his shirt and the obliterated sleeve, he needed a change of wardrobe.

Dekuyaketh turned to Laertes's body again, fanning his wings outward, and then folded them to his back like a cape. The manteau he brought to the cathedral was probably eaten up in the flames Laertes conjured, so he knew retrieving the manteau would be impossible. Dekuyaketh approached the presumably-unconscious jackal, and kneeled beside him, using his mechanical arm to shunt the scythe away from Laertes so, in case the jackal had any fight left in him, he would be unarmed. Not that it would make a lick of difference, but Dekuyaketh hoped Laertes was out of resources.

Dekuyaketh probed Laertes's wrist with a tremendous amount of gentleness, so that way the sharpened tips of his mechanical arm's digits wouldn't puncture Laertes's skin. He tested for a pulse.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

Left without an answer for a while, Stygian gave Sylvie a meaningful look, before turning away to glance sideways at, and listen in to the conversation between Paladin and Piix. He wasn't thinking about that though, so much as he was wondering whether if he had screwed the whole conversation over with his latest statement. By nature, he usually ranged wildly between bitter and vicious and humorous. Sometimes he was even bitterly vicious, or viciously humorous. Even as he thought of it, he couldn't but despise himself a bit for his weakness on that point, and the lack of control and oftentimes also joy that past experiences, and also a little bit of a personality disorder, had left him with. And he had still to get his food! Where was that damn thought entity?! For a ubiquitously present being in a theoretically existent and all-assorted bar at the edge of existence, he was taking his time...

- -

Standing there for a few moments, as if she took a bit of time to register those words, the machine stared down at Keaton, her complete lack of facial expressions making it so that no one could have been sure whether if she was glaring, or surprised, or even attentive at all. Then, at last, she removed her foot, stepping back slowly. Straightening, the metal sheets and parts that covered her slid back into place, as her chassis locked back into a more humanoid form, and she stood looking at the jackal.
   ':do you want me to /help you up?' she asked at last, voice neutral.

[Angel]

Sylvie was quiet for a few moments. The shifting of topics was noticeable enough that she caught it, but got the point. She didn't really like him leaving her hanging on that third-to-last rather creepy thought... but what the heck. Uncomfortable topics were a relief to avoid, and Stygian clearly didn't feel like talking more about it. Her hesitation appeared to have sat the wrong way with him; their eye contact had been broken, and he appeared slightly annoyed.

She ran her finger along the rim of the can as she answered, a little more quietly than normal. "Thankfully, no. What was it called here...an industrial revolution? Well, we never got around to that back home. The most advanced things we've got so far are guns and chemical weapons. A few people are aware that we're behind the times, but those people generally find places that are ahead of ours and leave." Her hand stopped moving and she turned to glance outside at the fights before turning back. "I never really saw what the other places had that was so much better."

---

Dani brought herself to a screeching halt, sending up sprays of sand and fire with her braking foot, as the mound she'd sent at Giles hit the half-melted glass that had formed where he'd stood. Shards and spatters of melted sand hit her arms and torso, forming little cuts and scratches everywhere. She shielded her face with her hands, hissing a little at the stinging air over the nicks in her skin and stepping back out of the flames. Her feet were pretty burned now, but that could just be because the soles of her sandals were on fire. She stomped out the fires, feeling the flames burn hotter around her as the fire began to swirl at the blackguard's command. Soon, a flaming tornado had risen over the desert, sand stinging against Dani's face and the ground shaking a little beneath her feet.

She cursed under her breath, bracing herself against the strong winds and backing away from the flames that licked at her ankles and legs. She'd never seen anyone get so mad during a fight... Giles had looked as though he'd wanted to set her ablaze using only his eyes, before his face had been lost in the fiery vortex. Well, she'd wanted a tough fight, and now at least she could even the playing field whenever she chose. Speaking of which... She cracked another knuckle, and heard a low boom of thunder overhead. Hm. I was hoping for an ice storm, but this might work... Slightly nervous that the rain wouldn't have much effect on the flames, she sliced at the tongues of fire in front of her, experimentally, to see if she could get through them somehow.

[Stygian]

'Oh, I don't know... Variety? Riches?' Stygian muttered, leaning on his hand and glancing around for the Boogeyman. 'More understanding about the universe and little gadgets?' He shrugged, and then went on. 'Mostly, I'd say, it's either habit or a natural desire for power...' Since that bordered on the topic they had just left though, he stopped talking, instead looking out the window at the circles. The fight between Sal and the jackal seemed to have ended, which was a relief. Although, because of how far away the circle was and the way things looked, he couldn't immediately tell who had won.
   'Actually, thinking about it, I think that it's much more probably a question of population. People are bound to multiply, and then it takes more technology to manage and support the increasing masses and their increasing quality of life...' he continued, then frowned and turned to Sylvie, eying her slyly. 'Although, looking at you, I think that anyone might have to reevaluate just what "quality of life" means...'

[Angel]

Sylvie's cheeks darkened at Stygian's last comment, but at the same time, a shy little smirk crept onto her face. She couldn't help but feel a little amused at being one of the few people alive who made everyone uncomfortable in certain situations. It seemed to be much more common here, what with religious debates, vegetarians ('cannibals'), and environmental rallies.

"When you put it that way, that's probably why my world is technologically behind. Population control has never been an issue," she said, calming her face. She counted off on her fingers as she considered the recent plights of her home-world. "The elves had massive numbers wiped out by a plague, Dani and I come from fairly new races, some groups just plain don't populate quickly, and the other races... Well, they've never needed technology to help them accommodate." Because whenever they need more space, they just start a war against whoever's in their way, she left unsaid. "I guess what makes me curious is, which world do you think is really better off in the end? A world like yours, or one like mine?"

[Stygian]

The man snerked a bit in return, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. Suddenly she seemed a lot more talkative. He hadn't seen any redundant movements except the fingers, and no strange eye movement, so she had just opened up and spoken right at him. A good thing.
   'Good question', he said, a bit of teeth showing in that smile of his, then rubbed his temple a bit where he sat with his chin on his thumb, something he did out of habit sometimes when thinking hard. 'Well... besides the beauty of kilometer-high skyscrapers and spaceflight... I don't suppose you people have learning implants and servitors. That's always a good point. But then again, you don't have to put up with defective stims or media, or a society so fast-moving that everyone seems to develop hyperactive and panicking disorder...' He hummed a bit. 'I suppose it comes down to preference in the end. Personally, I enjoy culture more than fields and forests. But then again, I enjoy those much more than I do people, so...'
   Shrugging, Stygian fumbled in his pocket for another cigarette. If his meal was hindered, then he'd enjoy something else meanwhile. A thought came to him though, and he stopped, instead reaching behind the counter for something to drink. If he smoked, the taste would be all messed up. Better then to wash it down.
   'I... hm... think I would be rather lost without my vices though', he said, bringing up a bottle of vodka and starting to look around for ice and soda, and perhaps a sliver of lime. 'Then again', he continued, looking to Sylvie, 'judging from what I can see of your world, I think that I could forget all about those...' Another sly smirk from his side, before he dropped a couple of ice cubes in his glass, and started pouring. 'But I rather doubt that I would... fit in. So let's just say I wouldn't bring that cruelty on your dear home.'