The Honor Circle Returns! (IC)

[Boog]

Boog relaxed behind the counter, languidly passing out the other requested drinks and smiling wryly for a second at the gold coins the Green offered.
"Smart girl. Pure water's hard to come by these days, with pollution the way it is. However, I wouldn't say it's quite that rare," He handed back two of the coins with a chuckle, "I'd feel bad about conning you, doubly so when I'm doing so well." The conniving and paranoia in the air was saturating the general mental background noise that had been around since matter first wondered what it was. The Boogeyman was made out of those structured concepts, an entity made of cognitive processes, and the thoughts that were bleeding out of the various plotter's heads could feed the datavore for months if he rationed himself a little. He sighed contentedly as the various memories and ideas copied themselves onto the mental plane and were sucked into his metaphorical maw.
Amazing, what can be accomplished when you just get people THINKING.

-----

Siolen kept climbing. The mountain was big. He figured it would make a good story for the castle. It really did need cheering up. He slammed his fist into the sheer rock a little higher and climbed. If he let go, the atmosphere was too thin and by the time he reached the point it wasn't the momentum would be too great for his wings to save him from being shattered. Finally, the stone beast was met with something it hadn't planned for. A ledge.
He flailed in midair a moment, fist passing through air where he'd expected more mountain, but soon righted himself and clambered up properly. The ledge was quite large. Large enough for some manner of inn with a great big circle in its courtyard and trees around it. He stepped closer.
The mountain disappeared. It it's place was dust; a flat and arid wasteland. He stepped back, the mountain came back.
He tested this a few more times, just to be sure. He didn't care how silly it looked, this was not something mountains usually did. Finally accepting that yes, the mountain vanished when you got closer to the building, he strode forward and entered. It was indeed an inn, with patrons of races and cultures he knew nothing of. The barkeep seemed like a pleasant sort, either resting his eyes or his whole body. The stone creature rested on its haunches (it at least knew that it would be bad form to break the chairs) next to the door, confusion evident on its face. Finally it stepped forward and prodded the dormant barkeep's foot, which was propped up on the bar itself, once to get his attention.
"My pardons, sir..." the gargoyle didn't have a really deep, gravelly voice. It was even somewhat musical. Like smooth stones spilling through ones fingers, "What is this place?"
The barkeep didn't get up or open his eyes, his face breaking into a grin, "Glad you asked, m'boy, glad you asked..."

[Stygian]

Stygian almost chuckled to himself, but held it back and instead sipped his whiskey carefully. A nice response from the dryad-like creature. He just hoped she wasn't one of those who became irritating once she thought she knew something.
   'Oh, I was only half hoping you'd loose your grip,' the man commented, before turning directly toward Sylvie. 'But it's nice we're off to a good start.' He chuckled lowly, and the right side of his lips quirked upward the slightest. 'Either way, please, call me Stygian. That's the proper way to do it.' He tilted his head slightly to the side. 'And you were Sylvie, correct?'

[Angel]

Sylvie nodded to Stygian and smiled, only a little unnerved by the fangs she now saw glinting over his lip. "Yes. If you want to get technical, it's Sylvia, but no-one calls me that. I'm glad to know someone of your intelligence and tolerance." She turned back to the owner, taking back her change with a bashful smile. While she waited for her drink, she watched the others. Rip was trying to challenge the jackal-woman, who hadn't responded just yet.

But the most interesting thing so far was the new entry. Sylvie had once met a servile golem named Alejandro, and this new creature looked a little like him. His voice didn't sound the same at all, though; Alejandro had had a metallic, monotone voice, and this new person had a voice as smooth as river-washed stones. She smiled and waved once at the stony being, turning around in her seat to watch the events unfold.

[Stygian]

Cut off by Sylvie before he could continue, Stygian smiled to himself and made a chuckling sniff, and then turned around toward Rip and the jackal woman. The man was making a rather flashy and brusque, not to mention rude challenge. A perfect way to make himself the most disliked in that sort of company, the blond man thought, hoping that the other would get his ass and hopefully guts handed to him.

[Sunblink]

Keaton looked perfectly and tragically unassuming as she gulped down the drink which was delivered to her, eagerly swallowing its amber contents until there was nothing but a few slivers of foamy fluid clinging like frosted residue to the interior of the glass. As a Cubi, drinking and eating wasn't necessary since they inclined towards absorbing and devouring emotions for sustenance, but Keaton couldn't help but appreciate the more-often-than-occasional glass of beer or absinthe. It often resulted in monstrous hangovers in the morning, but she had learned to tolerate such aftershocks.

She had also learned to tolerate people attacking her while she was enjoying a drink. Though someone who had recently purchased one for her suddenly becoming a turncoat... that was new. Ah well. Not everyone knew how to treat such a motherfuckin' dainty damsel as nicely as they should.

It would come back to bite them in the end.

Canting her head, Keaton's lips spread in an uncharacteristically demure smile in the face of Rip's insane and demented demeanor. "Heartless wench?" she echoed, "Hey now. Let's not go tossing accusations and insults around here, you spineless son of a bitch--"

What was once innocuous and demure transmogrified in a heartbeat, artificially precocious smile morphing into a wide and toothy Glasgow-cut-grin, closed eyes snapping open and narrowing into virulent slits of alabaster, and hands which were held up defensively whipped backwards in a slicing gesture; one hand's digits clasping around the handle of her mace, the other clenching in a pallid fist as blackened bolts and erubescent energy rippled off of its knuckles. Snarling, the jackal leaped off of her seat and swung Catastrophe from its holster, its very surface teeming with barely-restrained electricity as atramentous shadows danced and darted around its shaft, bound with purple-red lightning, leveling the spiked head of the mace to the floor. Keaton rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, smirking that smirk of hers as she lapped away the vestiges of alcohol from her lips.

"Let's dance, bug boy," she said wickedly.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[nikename2]

"Dance? Very broad terms love, but seeing as how I've appeared to have very thoroughly pissed you off, I'm sure you really meant to the death. Don't worry you'll get over it, I'm sure this kind of thing happens to all of your kind atleast ONCE in their god damn lives!!", Rip shouted enthusiastically.

He then proceded to moonwalk out of the bar area toward the closest ring, much to the awe and shock of any onlookers. It would appear to any observer, that this man had clearly lost his mind by this point, to act so literal. It didn't matter though, not to him. He could really care-less by this point with such inevitability staring him in the face. Before he stepped in the ring, Rip looked upward into the bleak overcast, it seemed clear whose side the sky was on... He then stepped into the ring. Almost immediately he felt another presence, it seemed to be coming from the ring itself. A passive, ancient aura undiminished by the ages.

"What....you said dance......you're up love.", Rip smirked as he got into his fighting stance, subtly bouncing on the balls of his feet, his fists held up infront, North Paw leading.

....Man...Cortez really should be here to see this. This is gonna be fricken epic as far as deaths go, heh.

[Cogidubnus]

 The blackguard chuckled darkly at Stygian's comment about screaming firewood, his re-lit pipe sending curls of blue smoke around his head.
"You'd be surprised what'll scream when you light it on fire." he said, his blue eyes grinning.

The wolf carefully ignored the blackguard, and simply stood up, walking towards a table with a window towards the now-occupied arena. The Jackal followed suit, standing and looking out yet another window to the outside as the combatants prepared to battle.

[lucas marcone]

It was raining hard, but Ian didn't mind he just loved to skate. It was a stress reliver for him and he needed it after plowing through hell in that damned castle and nearly missed his exams for being late. He poped up onto a railing that went through some cement walkway type structures and came out in a part of town he didn't normally go. He was just kind of glideing along when he saw it. "The Honor Circle." He picked up his board and decided to stop in and see what it was about. The bell rang and he steped inside and looked around, it seemed to be a bar for the most part. hum He though to himself I could use a drink he walked over to the bar and aked the pile of rags if they had any hot mulled apple cider "With a kick to it."

[Angel]

Sylvie shot a halfhearted glare at the blackguard, her fear quenched now that the fire was gone from his finger. She continued facing away from the bar, watching the Scorpion and the female Jackal head to the ring. The former either was a brilliant actor or just wasn't taking the fight too seriously. Either way, the weapon the Jackal was using looked very heavy. How can she lift something bigger than herself? This was going to be very interesting.

Her face took on a curious look when a Rat walked in. Oh sweet Gods, he looks like Kellie! she thought in shock. But she guessed that they'd probably never met. Around these parts, animal hybrids seemed to be common. And Kellie had never mentioned any siblings or even relatives to her. For now, she just smiled at the Rat and watched the fight.

[Stygian]

Meanwhile, 'Stygian' only looked at the two, as he saw it, ridiculous figures across the room, with a look of simple incredulity. He shook his head, ordered up another drink, and thanked his fortune that at least he knew the event keeper this time, and that he had found what seemed like a sane and curious combat interest from the start. And most of all, he thanked his fortune that there was alcohol.
   'By his words and looks, I'm thinking he's going to be most disappointed, that one,' the blond man said to no one in particular, though angling his comment at the blackguard and his lupine companion and the plant-woman all together. 'Whether if concerning the fight or the rules I am not sure.'

[Sunblink]

When Keaton had said "Let's dance," she didn't think that Rip would interpret such a command literally.

When he did, it came as an outright shock to her. Indignant surprise shot across her features for a split second, her expression remaining suspended in that disbelieving look, but then she shrugged it off with a narrow of her eyes. Stranger things had happened before a battle, and she doubted such occurrences would ever stop. Either way, as ridiculous as that demonstration was, it didn't stop her from striding after the scorpion-man, carelessly shoving the door open with her free arm while the other kept Catastrophe secure.

Outside, under the overcast and lugubrious sky, was the ring carved into the sands. Keaton scowled characteristically and approached him, stepping over the periphery of the circle. Around her, the air seemed to take on a tangible appearance, as though it had manifested into pure electricity, leaping about her form once she breached the ring and bypassed its barrier system, then with an imperceptible sizzle it silenced, the energy extinguishing. Sweeping Catastrophe in a beckoning circle around her, Keaton spun the mace a few times, making sure to alleviate any tension in her arm before she settled herself into an offensive stance.

Her features were still schooled in nothing short of agitation determination, something akin to concentration flickering in her eyes for a brief moment as she focused, those sable streaks of electricity revitalizing across Catastrophe's shaft. Downcast as it was, the clouds provided ample shadows cloaking the field, which meant she was battling in her element. Once she felt that subtle tightening, that confirmation which she had experienced a million times before, Keaton grinned.

"Giving me the first strike? Nice of you. But--"

Then it happened. The shadows covering the ground seemed to darken to an almost palpable state, rearing up in great thick tendrils and diving upon Keaton's form. Weaving about like anacondas, they wrapped and darted across her body, some splotches splattering her inch-by-inch until one portion of her form was thoroughly drenched with darkness, some encroaching up her legs like thousands of creeping, arachnid-like molecules, and the rest binding her body like immense black bandages until she was thoroughly coated. Dust which had been kicked up into the air by the sudden activity of those unexpectedly-materialized shadows tensed, then shot outward like billions of grain-sized bullets, sweeping about Keaton's crouched form like a whirlwind until it dissipated into nothing, no more than just a salty residue in the air.

Keaton herself lurched to her feet, moving languidly, her eyes devoid of pupil. An eldritch alabaster radiated from the pits of her lanternlike eyes, providing the only source of light on her form, which was coated in an opaque kind of atramentous armor which subtly rippled and tightened with her movements, hugging her body like a secondary skin. Even each individual strand of hair was dyed with black, making her look like she was almost entirely composed of ink, save for her eyes, and that strange, white symbol resting on her hip. Keaton's head lolled to the side, her featureless face unreadable, then suddenly she belted out a great screech and moved with breakneck speed. It was almost as though she was entirely powered by electricity, her movements barely accentuated with blurs of black, creating a comet's tail of wispy afterimages to trail behind her body as she dashed forward with Catastrophe raised.

There was another, horrific screech, like dozens of screams amalgamated together to create one monstrous noise, and then a grating sound like nails screaming across giant chalkboard, and then Keaton whirled Catastrophe around and swung it towards Rip's head mid-movement.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Cogidubnus]

 The wolf murmured something quietly, while the Blackguard strained to get a better view through the windows outside, puffing on the pipe as his head moved this way and that. The other Jackal, so far simply quiet, stood and moved towards the window the wolf was looking out of, standing before the glass as he watched. His face seemed to hint as some sort of subtle disapproval, although no discernible change in expression presented itself.

The wolf leaned back in his chair, one eyebrow raising behind shaded glasses. The black-backed jackal's sudden exertion of darkness had been unexpected, and he watched with more than a passing interest. The darkness coalesced up and around the succubus like ink, the dust around her feet whirling agitatedly before dissipating into nothing but a slight, powdery mist. The now atramentous Cubi lunged at the scorpion, staring holes into the Angel with bright, iridescently-white eyes as she hefted her giant mace after her. A trail of darkness followed her, like smudges of ink upon the air itself.
A sound, some sort of terrible scream, permeated the air, and the Cubi whirled the giant mace at the Angel's head.

The Blackguard stood to get a better view, and the wolf murmured back at the strange man sitting next to the flower girl.
"We'll see if he moonwalks out of this..."

[nikename2]

Rip barely had time to react as Keaton swong Catastrophe towards him, raising his flash-gauntlets to absorb the majority of the blow. The sheer force of it knocking him over across the blackened earth. Tumbling across the ground he rolled back up into a crouched stance, he could feel that the blow braised him on the forehead as he felt a couple strands of blood drip down his face.

Damn she's pretty quick....and could she scream any louder, heh...

Such a bleak situation, it seemed. She was thriving under the shadows of the clouds overhead, so much so that the very ground beneath their feet was under her influence. Rip was not about to reside himself to despair just yet though, especially not more then two seconds into the battle. He clenched his right fist, causing it to pulse abruptly then immediately burst into pure-white holy fire. He could feel his body tensing up as the adrenaline started to flow in his veins, reacting to the passionate and furious attempt on it's life by enveloping itself in a dim incandescant hue outlining his visage.

His expression still unchanged though inspite of everything. In his own insanity, he was reveling every second of this now just as much as his darkness-inclined adversary. In no more then a split-second, he sprung off the ground into the air towards Keaton, landing a few feet behind her slamming Righty into the blackened earth. The impact causing the ground around him to erupt in a bright fissure of holy fire.

[lucas marcone]

Ian smiled back at her. He had a very personable look to him even though he was dressed like a mosh pit slam danceing hooligan,he was, but that's another side to this complex man. He leaned on his board spinning a wheel with his finger, a wheel he would need to replace soon. He was shivering a little, the cold air and the rain made for a very wet very cold rat. He didn't see to upset though.

[Sunblink]

Again Catastrophe released its calamitous screech once it made its impact against Rip's fist, spikes grating against the gauntlets shielding Rip from encountering his head. Despite the tremendous shockwave that darted up Catastrophe's shaft, Keaton recuperated easily with her darkness-heightened senses, withdrawing the mace with a sweep of her arm and spinning her body around, almost as though she were supernaturally aware of where Rip would land after his collision with the earth. She grinned wildly beneath the mask of darkness when she saw that wickedly red substance stain his face, nearly belting out a horrid laugh. Blood. She saw blood. The bastard was going to get it now--

Or he would have got "it," if it weren't for the unexpected plume of white-light fire which engulfed Rip's fist. Holy magic? Light magic? Keaton hated that. Bloody hated it like nothing else. If she had received more training, had been more involved in elemental balancing prior to when her first source of education had been abruptly ended, Keaton was almost certain she would have had the understanding to combat this. Regardless, she did not, so she supposed she'd adopt a more evasive tactic. Anything to avoid that fire--it wouldn't disintegrate her defenses, no, but it would be a hell of a problem to restore her armor after contact with such a strong source of light. When Rip sprung at her Keaton reacted again, relying on her escalated senses once more as her adrenaline spiked.

Before she could dodge Rip was behind her, plunging his fist to meet the earth, which was torn and swept up into great smoldering chunks as the spreading fissure ruptured the ground. Snarling again in that ethereal voice, Keaton dashed forward, unexpectedly running toward the expanding shockwave, then bounded into the air just as it approached her feet, the sizzling remnants of fire coalescing like fresh coals off of her coat. Responding immediately, her shadow-armor rippled and swallowed up each chunk, the black-cloaked membranous wings on her back sharpening, materializing into something almost diamond-like in hardness, then jutted outward in the form of four rigid spikes on either side of her back. Keaton spun Catastrophe around over her head as she dropped down towards Rip, once more plunging Catastrophe as she came down--even if he dodged this, she would persist in her assailment until she drew even more blood.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Boog]

The Boogeyman opened one eye and shifted position lazily, watching the fight through a nearby window. The girl gathered shadows to herself like a caddis fly larvae building a shell. A monster came to mind, and he smiled wryly. Something that hadn't ended up here, not as of yet, but would make for an interesting fight... But this was here and now, and it would be rude not to give the fighters the respect they were due. He continued to watch events unfold... But then, there were customers to greet.
"Greetings, sir..." The one open eye's attention transferred to the rat, "Welcome to the Honor Circle, where we encourage our patrons to be as civilized as can be expected of them. This is, of course, while giving them any drink they can pay for; it helps facilitate our other attraction, which would be the chance to challenge any other patron to fight in the circle outside. Just follow the rules and I think you'll enjoy it here." He turned to look out the window again. "If you have any further questions, or wish to see the other circles while you wait for the current fight to conclude, just ask." He set out the drink, holding out one hand for payment, "And do enjoy yourself, young man." Boog grinned, his gaze still fixed the fight. Always, so many new things to think about.

Siolen wasn't nearly so restrained in his appreciation. He bounded outside immediately to watch the battle, mock-punching with each blow traded. The jackal's finesse with the morning star was extraordinary; while he didn't use them much himself, Siolen could appreciate what was a PROPER weapon. It was typically something large, with no alterations for aesthetics. No time for looking nice, when you had people to smash. By that same turn the scorpion, Rip, obviously had a lot of power at his immediate disposal. His first attack missed, as his foe took to the air and plummeted toward him. The gargoyle's face cracked into a grin. What stories he'd have for the castle after this!

[nikename2]

Rip's eyes widened a little bit and his maniacal grin lessened a bit as Keaton launched herself up and over his destructive attempt at reclaiming some of the ground. Such blatent disregard for her well-being.....he could very well infer that she was acting on pure bloodlust to attempt such a daring move. An opportunist meanwhile, would have backed off gracefully for a few seconds to take an accord of the situation to the best course of action to procede with. In a way Rip felt slightly insulted, but it could only be expected considering what she was and the circumstances, to that end....he harbored no ill will towards her inspite of his harsh words moments earlier. She was doing what she was meant to do, this was her...Raison d'être...

Crouched down from impact, he stared up at her as she soared over the sacred inferno, shards of darkness wrapped around her feet broke off to diffuse the flames surging near her feet as she rose above, going for the throat once more. For some reason though it felt like she was moving somewhat slower, the adrenaline surging through him now heightening his awareness and senses up to the very limit. Catastrophe whirled around in the air as she closed in, electricity arcing in and around itself with more fury then before. Then immediately she directed it's rage down towards him and came crashing down with it in unbridled fury.

At that range, there was only one out. He had to meet her head on. Rip springed his legs from his position then launched himself upward in a spiral motion straight for her, clutching Lefty by his side, igniting it in bright flame. Catastrophe roared downward towards him.....and connected with his right leg. It tore through the lower part of his robes and pants, the pain, excruciating, the electricity reacting chaotically with the incandescant aura enveloping him. At the same time he thrusted Lefty into her side, going for the kidneys. His fist immediately bursted in a small explosion of holy light, he managed to stop her momentum; then his Right hook came up and uppercutted her in the stomach and bursted in another small explosion, sending her back up through the air toward the other side of the ring.

Rip then collapsed onto the ground, the pain in his right leg, unreal. He couldn't even move it without every nerve ending in it flaring up. Still, he couldn't give up now, he was fighting for his life. He propped himself up on his left arm and stretched out his wings, within seconds he took flight and was in the air, the radiance enveloping him starting to grow in intensity as he drew ever closer toward death. His expression was that of desperation now, he knew he probably couldn't engage her at that close range anymore and come out alive. Well...I guess there's a first time for everything....

Rip reached over his shoulder with his right arm and gripped the handle, upon it's very touch the mystical nature of the unnamed racket reacted and enveloped itself in holy light. He whipped the racket outward with his right arm towards his side, held up Lefty infront of him, and began to concentrate until an orb of sacred light materialized in his palm. He then looked down at her, tossed the orb up above him, then smashed the ball of light straight for her chest, unsure of how much longer he'd be able to keep this up.

[lucas marcone]

Ian gave him what he owed, and walked over to the elf. "Hey there, don't see many elves 'round here. Thought you guys didn't like the city?" Ian gave her a warm smile and took a big sip of his cider.

[Stygian]

Watching the two combatants through a window and the corner of his eye, the blond man wore a boorish expression as he ordered a glass of water, and then another drink. For all the power put on display outside, and the short bit of attentive focus he had displayed when Keaton employed her initial technique, he seemed somewhat unimpressed now. Strange, considering the speed and power on display in the battle outside.
   'Damn flashy. But I'm wondering how long it will last,' he commented, before downing his water in one smooth gulp.

[Cogidubnus]

 The whirling combatants were indeed impressive. The Cubi, wreathed in darkness, managed to somersault over the holy wave of force, and slam that mace into the insectoid Angel's leg. Cog expected the fight to be over then and there, but the Angel must have been more resilient than he looked - instead of simply snapping like a broken branch, the leg seemed to hold, somehow. The wolf made a noise, and took a drink from his glass. The Blackguard beside him grinned, the pipe flaring a bit before a curl of smoke escaped up from it.

"Not the best display I've ever seen." the Jackal said, the scythe-carrying priest speaking up for the first time. It was uncertain whether he meant the Scorpion's use of holy magic, or the succubus's choice of darkness as her main element. He didn't elaborate any further.

The wolf took a glance at the blond man. "I imagine it will be over soon. Unless the Angel can keep up that distance, perhaps. Either way, the first blood and second blood goes to the succubus." he said, and turned his attention back to the fight.

[Angel]

Sylvie was more impressed than the others by the battle. She had seen more powerful beings, of course, but where she came from, magic attacks and physical attacks were two separate things. The Jackal and the Scorpion were combining every attack they could think of, the former using dark energy and magic as armor, and the latter lacing every blow with holy magic. The Jackal's mace and the Scorpion's gauntlets were arguably the most powerful weapons she'd ever seen, and she suddenly feared for her staff's durability. Hey, you wanted a challenge, you found one.

When the Rat spoke to her, she looked at him evenly, but pleasantly. "We don't, but this is well worth some time away from the forest." She reached for her water glass, resisting the urge to simply dunk her fingers in it. She didn't want to scare off the young man just yet. "So who are you?"

[Sunblink]

Much to Keaton's surprise, her assault was far more successful than she had anticipated. A strange sensation of satisfaction swelled up inside of her chest as the spiked head of Catastrophe made its crepitating collision with Rip's leg, driving her to pry its wicked spikes away from the tattered flesh and splintered bone of his leg and swing it back down for another blow. This time she was intercepted with a brutal blow to her side with his oddly-designed weapon, making Catastrophe stop mid-descent and her body spasm as she was thrust off to the side by the unexpected attack. Keaton growled again in that unnatural voice--most of the damage which had been dealt to her was the result of the flow of holy magic, not the impact itself. What was worse was the uppercut to her stomach. That sent her flying. Midair, her shadowy subterfuge rippled again atop her body, at first spreading wide as the once-thick layers liquefied into a syrupy texture, seeming to dribble off of the scorched surface of her fur, but then, with some hesitance, drawing back. Keaton hit the ground as she twisted her body into a relatively stable position--enough for her knees to hit the ground on the other end of the ring.

As her defenses reassembled, Keaton virulently watched Rip struggle to the side. Moving despite a mutilated leg, that was quite admirable, or at least a good demonstration in endurance if nothing else. Keaton hefted Catastrophe again, the tentacles retreating into her back and reshaping as her wings. She couldn't fly with her wings, having never learned to, but she was well-equipped to fight an aerial adversary. Rip, levitating in mid-air, seemed to be concentrating deeply amidst the desperation on his features, what she identified as a pure sphere composed of holy light generating in the palm of his hand. Then he had drawn the racket, had swung it at her, sending the ball flying--

There was no time to dodge. Keaton reacted as instinctively as she could. It was a risky move, but she tried. Knuckles clenching, she swept her arm upright, almost as though she was conducting an orchestra--

--and the shadows spread before her lurched up, solidifying in the same manner that she had constructed her shadow-armor, and splayed outward like a spider-webbed shield. The ball of energy slapped smack-dab into its heart, the conflicting elements sizzling and sparking dramatically, that horrid screaming screeching like thousands of voices into the air--

--and then the web withdrew, wrapping itself around the diminishing ball until the light was completely smothered, and dove back into the ground, swallowed up into the earth with a ripple. With that threat extinguished Keaton swung Catastrophe, its head sparking, and launched a lance of purple-black lightning at Rip. Red sparks, bound in crackling sable energy, fizzled and popped in mid-air as they orbited the rocketing electricity.

Bug boy had bite, but so did Keaton. And she knew how to use it.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[lucas marcone]

"Oh, I'm just another college kid lookin for something to do. Shouldn't even be here,dry campus you know, but more drinking goes on there than here. Honestly I just found this place and i wanted to dry off and wait out the rain." Ian took another swig of his drink, he was glad to be inside.

[nikename2]

Upon release, Rip looked on as his shot collided against the curtain of darkness Keaton brought up infront of herself, watching the light react chaotically with it until it eventually vanished into the void. From the very start, Rip knew he probably wasn't going to be able to win this, now....he just felt demoralized before the totality of how little of a chance he really had. It didn't matter how much he exerted himself at this point, the land was covered under shadow from the cloud cover overhead, and it was only going to get darker...

He looked on grimly as Keaton withdrew the curtain and began winding up Catastrophe, the electricity on it suddenly increasing in intensity, so much so that it was arcing all around her. Her arm then whipped, Catastrophe shrieked; then she fired the lance at him. The bolt was heading straight for his heart, and Rip's vision was getting darker from his wounds, he could barely see it coming. Rip flinched his right arm up to his left shoulder, covering his chest with the broad side of his racket. His racket lit up in a bright blinding flash as the dark lightning collided with it, reflecting the blast skyward; each of the red sparks blazing around and past him in a torrent, burning whatever they came in contact with as the crackled through the air, then popping like a 4th of July display.

Rip lit up his left hand again, except this time he clutched his right theigh with it, enveloping the leg in a calm pyre to stop the bleeding. He bought a little more time, but for what cause. It was inevitable, and he knew how clear it was. Reasoning told him to just cut his losses and accept fate. It felt, warm...a soothing sensation overcame his leg, he still couldn't move it though. His forehead then oddly started to feel warm, as he stared down at Keaton who looked to be winding up again, something flickered in the corner of his eye. He took his eyes off her for just a second, he could see the sun. A lone ray pierced through the cloud cover and fell upon him up in the air, it felt so soothing despite his weary self. The radiance around him began to surge, his light blue eyes lighting up, glowing fiercely. He had probably only half a minute, not even, before it would be covered up again.

He then set his sights back down at Keaton and angrily stared at her, with conviction burning intensily in his eyes and his soul. Words slipped out from his lips towards her, "One way or the other...this is going to end now. Take my leg, my pride, take everything. I still got my serving arm and by God I'm going to shove this racket right down your throat!!!"

A shockwave then burst out forth from Rip in all directions as his entire body lit up, his whole visage becoming a blur as he started rapidly firing a barrage of light orbs directed right for and around her. Each swings impact sending out small shockwaves from his racket, the orbs impacting the ground bursting brightly, the display akin to rapid machine gun fire, lasting for a good ten seconds until the ray from the sun faded away. His shots slowed down to a stop, his body unable to maintain the intensity of that speed any longer. Slowly he parachuted down to the earth, collapsing onto his left knee, resting his arms on his racket which was thrusted down infront to prop himself up. The ground around him lit ablaze into a bright pyre as what was left dissipated out and around him. He coughed up some blood, spitting to the ground, his head held down, vision fading. Slowly he fell unconscious and collapsed.

A lone light, burning in a sea of darkness, not a bad way to go, heh.

[Stygian]

The blond man smirked and nodded, as the battle outside came to a conclusion, quite obviously looking like he had known what the outcome would be all along. Ignoring the rat's and Sylvie's conversation, he instead turned his attention to the scythe-bearing jackal. That one seemed the most exotic of the trio who had walked in earlier. And his former remark...
   'Yes, well, that's what you get for not employing much strategy,' Stygian said casually. 'The moment the girl,' he continued, almost saying dog but remembering just who he was talking to, 'paid time to empower herself she won. Increasing one's defense, and at the same time going on an all-out offensive' He smirked a bit, pausing. 'The insect,' he continued, not refraining from using the term for the defeated, 'was wasting his strength away firing those blasts.'

[Cogidubnus]

 The Jackal inclined his head, regarding the man. His eyes narrowed for a moment, the Jackal taking in the blond-haired figure, and then back out at the battle. It seemed to be coming to a close: the Angel didn't have the power to keep up the barrage of holy magics, and the Jackal still hadn't taken a major injury. In desperation, the Angel had sent out a final barrage of all his strength.

The Jackal considered for a moment, and then responded calmly. "A good fighter puts himself beyond defeat, and waits for an opportunity to defeat an opponent." he said politely, and shifted the Scythe's grip in his hand. He kept on eye on the bat, the orb glinting in the cloud-darkened light, and leaned on the staff of his scythe for support.

[Sunblink]

Even though Rip had successfully deflected the incoming lance of lightning, the spearlike composition of darkness-laced energy ricocheting off of his gauntlet and spiraling into the sky, Keaton still felt a certain twinge of sadistic satisfaction. Whether or not he had received the bolt or had been damaged by it, she had already made an impact; she could tell. Again, Keaton started to spin Catastrophe, concentrating deeply enough to generate a sizeable streak of dark energy, wondering if the scorpion-Angel would be able to dodge this inevitable calamity shortly after its ignition. After all, he seemed exhausted, defeated.

That solitary column of light which penetrated the formerly bleak and desolately lugubrious overcast of clouds came as some surprise to Keaton. Not enough to shake her resolve, not at all--she didn't attribute it to any heavenly interjection, just some sort of phenomenon. Damn Angels. Beating this one down would be wonderful entertainment, now wouldn't it? Unfortunately, judging by the suddenly livid, sacrosanct energy enveloping Rip's body, it wasn't just a serendipitous phenomenon. Ceasing the revolution of her mace, Keaton's grip tensed around the mace's shaft, then swept it back, starting to devote the remainder of her energy towards defenses. She presumed she would need it.

She was right on the money. More concentration, more focus, another brilliant flash of lustrous light, and a volley of electrical balls identical to the sphere wihch was sent her way before was flying right at her. Keaton snarled loudly and spun Catastrophe once more, this time not keeping up a steady pace, but keeping each rotation absolutely breakneck. Palpable darkness started to exude in twisting trails off of each individual spike, weaving together an elaborate shield, and suddenly, with a powerful swing of her arm, Keaton had flung away one of the approaching globes. Four others faced the same fate, redirected and bashed helter-skelter. Then, finally, one pierced her defenses--one breezed past Catastrophe and collided right with her shoulder, sending a livid shockwave coalescing up her arm. The shadows shielding her arm sizzled lividly, bubbling and writhing, and then exploded, just barely protecting that section of her arm with their sacrifice. Arm now partially stripped of armor, Keaton released a sibilant hiss more befitting of a snake than a jackal, and withdrew, trying to defend herself from the rest of the volley shots. A few other swept over, one grazing past her ear, another skimming her waist--and making the shadows there part and dribble like blood, revealing the scorched fur beneath--and the final burning the edges of her hair. Seething, Keaton scowled, then let out a gasp as the scorpion-angel plummeted to the ground, sending up great chitinous plates of the earth within the fiery quake that surrounded him.

During that moment, Keaton threw up another dome-like shield to protect her, hoping it would sustain. It did. The ripple passed over, making the dome buckle, as though someone had dropped a tremendous weight on it, then, as the wave subsided, the dome deflated, sinking back into the ground and steadily revealing its inhabitant. Keaton was now utterly devoid of her shadow armor save for the fierce glow of white in her eyes, exposing the burns and scrapes scattered on her form, the damage mostly minimized due to the effectiveness of her protection. A clear look of exhaustion, yet triumph, was reflected in her expression; that maniacal smile returning to her toothy maw. From afar, Keaton could see the slumped form of the scorpion-Angel, and she let out a horrific laugh, her voice returned to normal. The vestiges of white light started to die from her eyes.

She had won.

~Keaton the Black Jackal

[Stygian]

The blond man snorted, and swigged down that third glass of whiskey, and then exhaled a long and pleased breath before speaking again. 'A fighter knows only the battle. A soldier knows that there will be more battles ahead,' he said, putting the glass down. 'But both think only of battles. The world is not a war, you know? Even if it is strife...'
   The man paused for a second, then stood up and walked over to the window, putting a large hand on the wall. He tapped his fingers against it lightly, tips clicking through the gloves. 'Perhaps that doesn't apply here, but I like being realistic,' he said, and then turned his face back toward them. 'Anyone up for a "battle"? I feel I need to warm up.'

[Boog]

The Boogeyman came striding out of his place of business quickly, his tweed coat splaying out and fluttering as he made haste toward the circle. Primarily the unconscious man in it.
"Well done, Madam. A superb fight," he nodded to Keaton on his way to Rip, "Breathtakingly skilled use of a weapon so many just try to smash things with. And this fellow," he leaned forward and glanced down at the unconscious arachnid, "A bit flashy, yes, but not bad." Boog grinned, "Do me a favor, twitch twice if you're willing to pay for use of our medical facilities."

---

The fight concluded in an all-out, last ditch rush. Siolen could respect that, as well as the Jackal's method of surviving it. The laugh startled him, but he'd heard worse gloating. He turned to go back inside, just in time to hear the blond man's challenge. Soldiers and fighters... I've been both. Why not? The man didn't look particularly well armed, which was fair enough reason to assume that he was VERY well armed. Nobody in a suit like that would come to a place like this without something up a finely-tailored sleeve. But then, we would fight by my rules... Bah. I shall wait, see if one more familiar with him gives something away.

[nikename2]

Rip's head turned to it's side and his left eye looked up at the Boogeyman, with an exhausted grin across his face. He then turned himself over so that he was sitting upright. "No....I think I'll be just fine, but thanks for the offer."

He then gripped his right leg with both hands, a snapping sound could be heard as he forced the leg's bone structure back into place. His leg was then enveloped in calm pyre again, sealing it together and mending the wound. Then he brought himself to his feet albeit wobbled a little bit as he applied pressure to the leg, gaining his balance as he stood up. He kicked up the nameless racket with his tail and caught it in the air with his right hand, twirled it around a bit, then sheathed it back onto his back and sighed.

"I'm gonna go lie down for a bit.", he nodded back at the Boogeyman, he then walked up toward the bar area, ignoring everyone else and walked out toward the front and just crashed under a nearby tree, lying on his back just staring up blankly into space.

....Why didn't she kill me....