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Ask to Join The God Of Highschool

"Likewise! You seem like a really funny person as well" Shiro replied with a smile as Jake introduced himself and talked about getting together to prelims.

"He seems toughter than most of the people here.. Another knife user huh" Shiro thought as he looked down at the Jack's equipment then quickly looked back at his face. "He seems quite confident.. And less arrogant than some. I would Say He has a pretty big chances"
"Sounds good! Let us meet after them then and dont even try to lose to anyone before that, okay? I will go to the other side of the arena so none of us gets to each other's crossfire." He said and did just that.

The battle was announced to begin the moment he decided to go and while he was going as far away as possible. Other fought for their lifes and he occasionaly had to dodge some random npc attack.

He heard shots and turned in the direction of the cute Cowgirl cosplayer... Or rather a very skilled Cowgirl that took down some guys with a rather ease, but he wouldnt expect nothing less from girl that took his attencion earlier. Okay, It starts to sound a bit.. Yea, Dont overthink it people. After that show, he noticed that she was ready to Fire at Isak too. Isak.. The guy that Shiro met at the bench as he recalled.
Boy wished both of them luck and went on his way further.

After this he heard someone calling out to leave the kid alone.. Kid? Who would put kid in place where everyone were a skilled at least a bit a obove the norm fighters.
He turned to the situation that crowd was commenting. Girl in adorable frog hoodie that he saw with the Cowgirl before was fighting with some people, especially eye-catching.. Was a woman that just overflow with her power.. It didnt meant she was super strong.. She Just rushed with no control... Crazy...
Shiro really wanted to punch people in a crowd. Frog girl wasnt much shorter than him, does it mean that he is a kid too? Like hell he is! But he paid too much attencion to a fight of the girls and had to punch some random in a face for interrupting the show for him.
... by the end of this fight, Cute won over the crazy. Shiro said that he cheered for the frog, but the moment he saw the Middle finger a cute image dissapired.. Well, the crowd deserved it.

Shiro kept on going till he reached eastern part of the arena.. Many people already fell and now only tough stuff was left.
Joel Monta Christiana, Half-Brazilian Korean Citizen and Continental Capoeira champion. He possesed an incredible speed and power! He won all his duels without much of a trouble and was hailed as Capoeira progidy. It was no suprise to invite someone like him to the competition.
Joel saw another easy target, kid with level 5, no GP and mediocre health! How did he do it, that he wasnt unconcious on the floor? He jumped forward at the boy, landed on his legs and all of that in less than a second as if he was a fidget spinner, he aimed the kick at boy's head.
"My level is 14! One kick is enough!"
Shiro then ducked down.. Something that Joel didnt expect. He swept with his leg Capoeirist's hands and caused him to hit the floor with his head and standing up, sending him away with a kick to the face.
"A waste... You made far too much wasted movements..And you were So strong too" Shiro commented on his opponent, a real shame... His technique was half-assed and not Worth of copying unless someone could make it up for its weakness.
Time of fight.. 1,241 second.
Before Shiro could rest another Man, with Black long hair and a rather formal clothing approached him.
Christopher Shakespeare is a descendand of the infamous William Shakespeare, The great manand a visionary of his time. His tragedies till this day are listened to, Read and watched by the people of the world, but its not just due to this connection that Christopher could be here now.
Christopher approached the white haired boy with an interest "I gotta say, you are a fast one, aint ya?" He said to start off the conversation which the white haired boy didnt picked up due to how cautious he was now.. Good trait.
"Not very talkative? I take it you see how strong I am?"
"No sir.. Its Just you give up the vibe of a person that I might hate the most" Shiro replied as he took a Stance of the Kaiwan Karate, unlike earlier as he was without a Stance till the beggining of preliminations.
"Is that So.. Its sad to hear that.. Well then, lets not waste your time"
'CHARYEOK:The Great Romantic, William Shakespeare'

Shiro didnt wait a second and in insanely short amount of time closed the distance between them and throw a punch, only to see it pass through the Man as if he wasnt there and soon enough. Christopher Shakespeare's image dissapired from his sight. Christopher quickly appear behind him and So Shiro kicked in his direction, but he passed through the guy again. "Ugh.. I knew you are a pain in the.." He didnt finish as he felt a powerfull strike hitting on his shoulder and before he could collect himself back to his Stance, another kick landed on his face, making a small amount of blood to burst out of his nose. Shiro lifted his Guard and could feel merciless attacks. All of them came only at his upper body but the direction of attacks were completely random. He couldnt tell in any way where next strike will be.. And damn he was sweating a lot...

Sweating? In cold room? This seemed absurd, he was sure that it wasnt due to fighting as he became basically a fountain.. It seemed So weird till it hit him.. Well, idea hit him, not Chris.
But idea was based on a plan of getting hit again and when he felt a hit on top of his head. He grabbed his leg, throw him at the ground and then real Chris was visible.

"Mirage huh.. You use temperaturę difference in the air to cause illusions on a target, accompanied with how hard your hits are it is a good strategy, but I guess that you have too small combat Expierience to fight straight on with me." Shiro analyzed.
"Like if you beaten me yet" Chris gritted his teeth and jumped away, standing back to his feet and then made very small jump, like if he was gliding on air 5 centimeters above the ground and when he was 4 meters away, kicked the ground with his main leg and flew upwards, lifting other leg above his head and flying down to strike his opponent. He was very fast, but Shiro could now see him coming and making a jump of his own, his kick was faster and reached the head of his opponent before Chris could kick Shiro.

White hair slowly stood up from the ground and looked at the Man who gave him a bit of trouble. He was unconcious, but his hp reached 1.
"There two kinds of people my master told me to finish in fights. Those who dont deserve to live and those who are worth of fighting as if their life was in a line. As of now you are neither.. Train hard, I will take you on as often as you will want me to"

Shiro managed to get... A short break of sorts but he already cought attencion of another pair, Boy and Girl that looked like a pair, around 20 years old. Male rushed at him and turned on his Charyeok of Apedemak, Lion headed Warrior god which was specifically a greatsword and with huge force after a short Exchange, he sended Shiro flying to the roof.

Girl in a meantime prepared sniper rifle and a vision of a Man stood right next to her.
*'Charyeok:White Death, Simo Hayha' *
"Killer Shot" a huge Explosion wave headed towards Shiro and managed to hit its Mark.

"That would be it.. Lets now Focus on that Waiter guy, then at this spear woman, Cowgirl and some of those knife users."
"As soon as we get rid of potencial threats now, It will be easier at the competition."

"So thats your plan now?" Shiro sounded annoyed, hearing they Just try to avoid the hard fights later. Bruised, with heavily shattered white hoodie and Blood coming from wound on his forehead, but alive, Shiro rushed at the pair and due to a fact her Charyeok destroyed the rifle completely, So she had to use her two guns and pulled the trigger. Shiro meanwhile stopped the Rush, lifted his guard in weakspots then got shot and after serie of gunfire and fear from the public, Shiro looked undamaged. Well, It was far from true as he did feel pain of bullet hitting his skin, but thankfully for fact that armourclad technique's defensive capabilities from tightening his muscles like a real armour and due to a fact that he could see in his opponent eyes where she aimed and what points to Focus on protecting helped him not to look like cheese.

His skin was a bit torn, but muscles couldnt be pierced and So he didnt lost much hp. He rushed again before she reloaded and before her boyfriend protected her, Shiro punched her and knocked out cold instantly. Shiro jumped away to dodge the Rush of sword slashes and then jumped up, copying Christopher's style and kicking the Lionman to the ground.

Yet, last fight left... Joel wasnt out earlier.. And Shiro didnt expect it, receiving heavy kick to the head.

Wound on forehead got worse, Blood fell onto his left eye and Shiro was temporarily blinded to the left side. Joel in a meantime looked like different Man.. A real monster in the arena. He had 6 hands and 6 legs, or at least it looked like if he had. His eyes shined in Red colour.

'Charyeok, Capoeira Legend: Joao Pereira Dos Santos'

Joel ran towards and throw a great serie of jabs and crosses, that if Shiro didnt have a great kinetic vision of the fist eye in his still working right eye would receive all of them in a face. Still, strenght of his opponent was so immersive that he cut Shiro's cheek with a wind pressure alone from the lightning-fast jab.

Then a new move was coming.. A fast front kick to the stomach, ground broke under his remaining feet and even with armourclad on, incredibly intense pain paralyzed Shiro whole body for a second and the boy was sended flying upwards. Joel then changed to stand on his hands and as Shiro get closer to a ground, fast kick sended him away from his opponent and he landed with a Loud crash noise on a ground.

Another attempt of using a kicking tornado again. Shiro has gotten up by that time and looked at his health...
His opponent?

Shiro was suprised that That guy was far from healthy too... But he would not be able to handle him head on now...

He needed to win..
"...Let me take your wish in this turnament.. You have done well" Shiro whispered and look in his eyes changed from carefree to serious.. He would finish this.

Both of them rushed at each other and..
'Lion Toss!' Shiro captured one of the legs and threw him in the air as that Lion boyfriend guy did then jumped after his opponent.
'Sniper Shot' He then with a great precision hit with his leg where heart is, but Joel got second wind and kicked Shiro after that back to the ground. Joel began to turn into a fidget spinner again and went after his opponent. Shiro got up and made his last jump, then he started it.

'Akuma no Michi: Mixing Arts- Shaspear Capoeira kick'

He began to spin Just like Joel, but in a mid-air like Christopher did for his attacks, meanwhile an image of a person appeard behind Joel.
'True Capoeira Brazzicane' He pushed off the ground with his hands and headed to send merciless kicks at Shiro, while the white haired boy would do the same.

One second and it was all known...
One centimeter and it was all known...

Shiro won by one centimeter.
He was laying down next to Joel, who ended up unconcious and luckily no one checked if Shiro lost concious too and boy could rest for a bit.

"I will take your wish and my other opponents too.. So rest well, Mister" Shiro whispered and got up. He had 11hp, Shiro should stay down, but he couldnt Just wait for others to finish. Boy with his now blurry vision, only thing he saw was a green shape that seemed humanoidal, So he decided to go for a fight and survive till prelims are over.

And So he rushed and kicked.

@Void_Nugget @=Nightshade=


Previously Night's Shadow
Taeran wasn’t struggling. In fact, it seemed more like she watched from afar as her body moved itself— which wasn’t actually happening, as evidenced by when she occasionally un-spaced out with no resistance from Dwight. Most people didn’t pay much attention to the outskirts, and while there were a few smaller scuffles around the outside, squirming, fighting bodies weren’t pressing in on all sides. Most of her opponents since she had decided to remain further from the action had been wannabes looking to pick off the weaklings just trying to avoid combat. It was clear they hadn’t expected an experienced martial artist to be among them.

Even from across the arena, though, Taeran could tell that not all the people hanging back were weak. It was in their stances, the way they carried themselves, some calmly conversing with an easy grace about their at ease position, and yet with a tension that told her they were both ready to strike as soon as the other made a wrong move. Of course, there were those that the last group had been looking for: timid fighters who had bitten off more than they could chew with this tournament. It was just that Taeran wasn’t one of them. She idly nudged the carpet of unconscious bodies at her feet, wondering whether she should move so she had more room to fight without stepping on her fallen opponents.

Yeah, you probably should. Maybe go around on the cage, though; less chance of being attacked.

I hear ya.
Taeran debated giving a snarky retort, but figured it wasn’t worth diverting brainpower too. Her senses were on overdrive, her very molecules practically vibrating with anticipation, the hairs on her body standing on end. She raised a hand to check that her hair was still relatively secure in its braid, unlikely to obscure her vision (any more than it usually did), before easily leaping up to cling to the wire mesh once again, inadvertently avoiding a hammer blow from another participant who had come looking for a fight. He glared up at her for a moment, then dove back into the main fray.

Taeran watched him go for a few seconds, then began to race, spiderlike, across the mesh, gaining frustrated yells from audience members whose view she blocked, and shouts of support from people who didn’t want the “kid” to get hurt. She leaped down from the cage into a slightly more open section of the edge— more open, as in, no unconscious bodies lying around in her footpath.

She crouched, narrowly avoiding a pair of fighters whose movements were wild, almost unpredictable. One of them, with tanned, maybe Latin skin, had sent a kick towards his white-haired opponent that had been close enough to make Taeran’s hair ruffle. She watched the two clash for a moment, before her show was rudely interrupted by a brush of air from her left. The girl spun, immediately dropping into Snake, and rushed in close, too close for the hook punch to do much damage even if it did connect.

Taeran had no intention of letting that happen.

Her own hands glided down the new opponent’s punch, one staying at the base of his bicep, the other flowing smoothly towards the wrist. She followed the hook punch’s intended arc, backflipping over the opponent’s opposite shoulder, twisting his arm awkwardly, then painfully, an odd sound between crunching and popping wrenched out of the man’s shoulder. To his credit, he didn’t scream, merely let out of grunt of pain while trying to reach behind and grab her— but Taeran had his back now, and she wasn’t about to give it up.

Still keeping a firm hold on his wrist, Taeran clamped down on his sides with her knees, keeping the tops of her bare feet against his lower back and uncrossed— it was so easy to break an opponent’s ankles if they were careless and locked their feet together. The man roared and bucked, trying to throw her off, but Taeran locked her other arm against the nape of his sweaty, bald
neck, pressing his throat into his own twisted arm in a chokehold as painful as it was effective. His face grew red, then purple, and his struggles desisted as he sank to his knees, but Taeran stubbornly kept the pressure on, intending to hold it until she could be sure he was really and truly—

Taeran, behind you—!

At Dwight’s warning, Taeran instantly shoved herself off the man she had been choking out. She found her footing just in time to catch a glimpse of a round kick. Smooth, fast— unnaturally so, almost oily. She recognized the white-haired boy from the fight she’d glanced at, with the lithe Latino. He was in bad shape, she couldn’t understand why he would attack—

No time! The kick was less than a foot from connecting with her temple. Taeran shot up an arm, elbow tucked in close to her face, hand wrapped tight around the base of her neck. Using such a Falcon-esque move while her Snake mentality had been disrupted by a rush of adrenaline threw her off, and the kick connected squarely with her block. The power was astonishing, coming from such a thin frame. The boy couldn’t be much bigger than her, and yet he sent her skidding nearly three meters. Her block had cushioned the blow, but Taeran’s head still pounded, a low, pulsing ringing in her ears. A thin stream of blood trickled from her temple, the force of the kick through the block. A hushed whisper rippled through the section of the crowd with a front-and-center view of the fight.

Dwight’s mental voice was shaken, abashed. Taeran, I— I didn’t feel it coming. There was almost no air disruption—

Taeran shook her head to cut off his apology, but stopped quickly, the pounding getting worse with movement, though overall it was beginning to fade. She sank into Rabbit stance, the only form she felt confident in her ability to pull off with her mind scrambled. As she did so, she snuck a glance at her wristband. Her HP, which until then had only lost a point or two per opponent, had dropped almost fifty points. Shit.

Taeran, I—

Shut it, Dwi. Neither of us sensed it— this guy is good. I might like to fight him in Tiger once my head stops pounding. And maybe when he’s not half dead.

Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.
Dwight regained his composure, their senses tuning in to each other once again.

The boy kept squinting, as if he couldn’t see very well. Taeran supposed that was to be expected if the blood staining his white hair red was all his. While he certainly hadn’t seemed to have lost any power in his fight, it was clear his balance was off, and despite Taeran’s momentary disorientation, she knew she was in much better shape.

And yet… that made her a little sad. She would have liked to face him at full strength. It would be no fun at all if he could barely see, a light breeze able to knock him over. He wasn’t even coming after her to follow up that kick— though it was possible he couldn’t see her from this distance. Or that could be her scrambled synapses talking.

That was okay. She could still use a good fight. It’s not like she would kill him.

Taeran let all her pent-up fear wash over her, the adrenaline it evoked flooding her system. She sprang into motion almost before she realized it, skittering forward erratically towards the boy. The pounding in her head became the pounding of her heart, as if she were prey trying desperately to lose a predator. And yet, she was the predator. The fear took her in one direction— but no, that was a feint! Lose the predator, become the predator! Dart forward one way, all intentions visible, then suddenly switch! Run, run, run, run— then a violent snap kick, fast, harsh, aimed for the sternum of the white-haired boy. Back to dashing in circles, run away just to double back, propel herself off the cage in odd leaps and bounds, hyper hyper hyper!

Did I ever tell you I get motion sick whenever you do this?

Do NOT throw up in my back, Dwight.
Taeran’s mental voice was adrenaline-soaked, wild. Controlled terror with a side of snide. My spine would not appreciate it.

@Clite of Dragonbow
(OOC: Jeez this is long anyways enjoy)
Annie allowed herself a small, nervous grin as Isak slipped away and into the crowd of fighters. She could have shot him, but he had tried to stand up for her. Which was nice enough. She wondered if he would make it through the preliminaries.
"You... you bitch!" Annie looked over to find one of the contestants she had shot had not given up yet. One of the men in the leather jackets. Now that she looked at him closer, she could see that his eyes were two different colors, one green and one blue. This was the one she had only shot in his forearm. Holding his injured arm close to his chest, the heterochromatic biker gang member staggered to his feet. "You shot me!"

Annie casually aimed her Colt Thunderer at the gang member, and his eyes widened. He took a step back with a nervous 'eep!'.
"You wanna keep fightin' me?" Annie asked. The man swallowed nervously, shaking his head. Annie gestured for the man to back away with her revolver. "Then scram, mister."

"HYA!" The biker's retreat was cut short by a swift kick to the head, dropping him. The attacker was a man dressed in all orange. At first Annie thought it was some sort of prison uniform, but it was actually some sort of martial arts uniform. He had short black hair, with bangs that swept over one eye. Looking up to Annie, the monk smirked.
"HIYA!!! HA! HA! HA!" The monk exclaimed, going through different martial art stances and slowly approaching Annie as he did so. About 10 feet from Annie he stopped, standing with his feet a little more then shoulder length apart, and one of his hands in a fist over his head. The cowgirl stared at the monk with confusion before pointing her Colt Thunderer at him.


Annie shot the monk in the stomach. The young man staggered back and doubled over, but still managed to stay on his feet. He stayed that way for a moment, before slowly straightening up.
"HAIYA!" The monk yelled, taking the same battle stance as before. From underneath the monk's shirt, Annie watched as a crumpled bullet fell to the ground.

"What in tarnation...?" Annie whispered, looking up to the monk in shock.


Fighter: Chang Ti.
Martial Art: Shaolin Iron Shirt Kung Fu
A monk who's intense training made his body tougher than hardened steel.


Chang sprinted towards Annie.


Annie fired again, her shot hitting the monk in the right shoulder. The shock from the hit caused the man to recoil, but he continued to charge forward with no sign of real injury.

How is this happening?!
Annie stepped back, firing again. The way this man was charging, it reminded Annie of facing down a charging bull. But the sheer fact that it was a man instead of a massive animal was enough to unnerve Annie.


Annie's last shot went wild as the monk threw himself into the air. He spun through the air like nothing Annie had never seen before. With a crack, the monk's foot struck Annie's temple with a powerful kick. The cowgirl was knocked off her feet, falling to the ground. Her hat slowly floated to the ground next to her. The monk landed on his feet with a smirk, his back to where Annie lay. He exhaled.
"Too easy." He said.

Chang began to look around for his next opponent when something hit him on the back of his head. He winced as the object clattered to the ground. It was... an older revolver? The monk's eyes widened. The cowgirl. Chang turned, but Annie was already right behind him. Rage in her eyes, Annie struck the monk in the face with the handle of her Colt Peacemaker. He tried to pull back, but Annie grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and smashed him in the face again with her revolver. Chang brought up his arms, simultaneously blocking Annie's third pistol whip and forcing her to let go of his collar.

Chang stepped back, hitting Annie in the side of the head with a backfist. As she recoiled from the hit, he quickly moved into a spinning back kick to the other side of Annie's head, then a rapid three kick combo to Annie's leg and side. Every single hit landed perfectly. And while Annie staggered, she did not fall. Keeping up the assault, Chang ran forward and jumped into the air. He hit with another spinning kick to Annie's head, pushing Annie back even further. Pushing further, he threw a punch to Annie's face. He expected Annie to be dazed and disoriented from his continued attacks. But Annie was far from that. The cowgirl moved quick, landing yet another pistol whip to the side of Chang's head before his punch could land. The monk quickly stepped back, dodging Annie's backhanded pistol whip. She rushed forward to close the distance, swinging again, and Chang attacked with a precise kick to Annie's wrist. He kicked the revolver out of Annie's hand, taking a glance at her bracelet as he did so. The Colt Peacemaker skidded away. The two fighters stepped back, Annie nursing her wrist and Chang grinning.

"I don't know how you're still standing, being only a level 9 fighter. My first attack should have finished you off." Chang said. Annie was breathing heavily. She wiped away the trickle of blood from her lip, her right cheek rather bruised. Chang once again took his ready stance. "I commend you for being able to keep fighting so far. You're tough. But my Iron Shirt technique is indestructible. Swords, Axes... even your bullets, they all simply bounce off. And I can assure you, your fists will be just as ineffective."
The monk chuckled.
"I'll make your end swift."

Annie spat some blood onto the ground, and Chang ran at her. Another flurry of kicks. The first kick to Annie's leg, then to her side, then to her-

Annie grabbed Chang's leg when it hit her side, picking up the monk and slamming him to the ground. Chang aimed a kick with his other leg at Annie's head, but Annie managed to block it with her left arm. Chang pulled back his leg and attempted to roll away. But with surprising speed, Annie was on top of the monk and grabbed him from behind. Wrapping her arms around his stomach, Annie lifted up Chang and began to squeeze as hard as she could in a powerful bear hug. The monk struggled, but was unable to escape the hold. Annie squeezed as tight as she could, but it was like trying to squeeze a solid rock. There was absolutely no give. Annie slammed Chang into the cage of the arena, once, twice! On the third time, Chang pushed off the side of cage and the two fell to the ground. They tumbled, but Annie still kept a strong grip on the monk. Finding they were close to the other fallen competitors, Chang grabbed one of the shortswords the cloaked woman had dropped. He slashed back at Annie, but the cowgirl quickly released him and avoided the attack. They quickly jumped back to their feet, but once again Annie was surprisingly quick. She kicked the shortsword out of Chang's hand and away from the monk. A powerful kick from Chang knocked Annie back once again.

The monk reached back for the shortsword once again. Reaching onto her gunbelt, Annie drew another weapon she had brought to the fight. But this wasn't a gun. The cowgirl twirled the lariat, and precisely lassoed the rope around Chang's neck. The monk gagged with surprise, being yanked back before he could grab the shortsword. He reached up to pull the lasso away, but Annie had closed the distance. With a quick twirl of the rope, Annie looped the lasso around Chang's neck a second time which caught his wrist, making binding his wrist to his neck and preventing it from being able to pull away the lasso. The monk kicked Annie once again, but the cowgirl just powered through it and tackled Chang to the ground. She pinned the monk to the ground as he gasped for air, punching Annie in the side with he free hand as he struggled. Annie endured the hits as his struggles became weaker and weaker, until finally after a few frantic moments... Chang passed out.

Once the monk had passed out, Annie was quick to pull her lasso off of him. He was still breathing, just unconscious. Breathing a sigh of relief, Annie groaned with pain and sat down. She was hurting, severely. That monk had been no joke. A look at her wristwatch revealed that she still had a little over half of her hp, even if she did feel a little woozy from all those kicks to the head.
"Sorry, mister." Annie muttered to the monk before standing up. The cowgirl looped up her lasso, putting it back on her gunbelt. The sound of a slow clap caught her attention, and the cowgirl turned to see yet another man emerge from the melee of fighters. He had a few bruises, but was still standing relatively strong. He wore military combat pants and boots, with a blue jacket.

"Well, well, well. I was sure that the kung fu guy was going to win. But it seems you managed to get ahead in the end. Good for you." The man said. He stopped a good 15 feet away from Annie, putting his hands in his pockets. "Martial Arts sure are strong, aren't they? Of course... they're nothing when compared to the power of the gods. Borrowed power."
With a crazy grin, the man raised his hand to the sky.
"Sorry, cowgirl! It was a good fight, but your time in the God of Highschool is over now! Behold, my Charyeok! BALLISTAE!" The man exclaimed. In the air above him, a multitude of massive crossbow-like siege weapons faded into existence. He looked up at them, relishing in the sight of the massive weapons. "Now, take this! ULTIMATE THUND-"


Annie drew her Winchester Model 1886 Rifle from the sheath on her back, shooting the man in the military pants three times. She fired from the hip, shooting him in the knee, the stomach, and the shoulder. Instantly, the ballistae disappeared and the man crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain. Annie let out a breath as she lowered the rifle. Ignoring the man writhing on the floor, she picked her cowboy hat back up and began to look for her revolvers she had lost. She had to stay on guard, hopefully this would all be over soon...


Previously Deathstalker62
As soon as the Tournament began, the martial arts instructor turned to the opponent who had taunted him, him and his students getting in their battle stances. He was not gonna let this no-named nobody disrespect him and his clan like that, so it was all out for him!

" You have insulted my honour!! Prepare to- "

Before the man could even finish talking, a baseball slammed itself right into his face at high speeds, knocking a few teeth out of his mouth, breaking his nose and knocking him to the ground. The students looked shocked, both in shock that their master had been knocked down and angered that he was interrupted. They turned to face their opponent, only to find no one but another baseball there, knocking the second person over.

Confused, the remaining five looked around, with one of them catching a metal bat to the face right after turning to their left, knocking them out cold. The four turned to their foe, starting to feel they may have made a huge mistake, but still confident they could win with numbers still being on their side.

Vermin spun his bat in one hand, sighing. How disappointing. This was so easy to do so far, no challenge to be faced here. He saw one of the students open their mouth as if about to say something, that is when he took a pebble from his pocket and tossed it in their face to shut them up immediately. He had holstered the bat to his back, now spreading his arms and getting in his own battle stance.

" Shut youh trap! Y'think some big talk is gawnna win you this fight?! You promised me challenge, now show me some gawddamn challenge, ya buncha cowards! "

And so, the groups of foes went at eachother. The four students went to surround Vermin, now acting all tough again, thinking this was gonna be the end of this cocky hobo. One of them went for a kick to Vermin's chest, which was all the batter needed. Stepping to the side, Vermin grabbed the student's leg and started swinging him around like a ball on a chain, knocking over all the other guys and throwing him into their master, who was just now getting back up again, only to be knocked down once more.

Vermin ran up to the second man he had put to the ground with a baseball earlier and clutched his arms around his waist, crouching down to do so. Before the student could even realise what is happening, Vermin stood up and suplexed him half-way, letting go as he stood up straight and went to bend back, tossing the man high into the air and letting the ground do the rest once he'd take the rough landing. With a mad smirk, Vermin had turned to the remaining two students who still stood, paying no mind to the master who was currently too busy trying to get a knocked out student off of him.

He had took a running start, grabbing one of the two by the throat and kicking the other up the chin with a high kick, the same one one of them had used against Vermin before, then grabbing that guy by the throat as well. He had knocked both of their heads against each other, then proceeded to toss them to the ground and turned to the last man standing. Their instructor.

Their master had looked on as all of his students were on the ground, unable to continue fighting, while this stranger stood out almost completely unharmed. This awoke an anger in the man, granting him new motivation to take down this guy to save his student's honour... alongside his own, of course. The two now ran at each other, the instructor using his own techniques against Vermin, who surprisingly stood a chance by using his own knowledge of different fighting moves to counter and block his foe's attempts at striking him.

This became a back and forth for a while, the two attempting to trade blows but the other always finding a way to guard against it. The instructor however started noticing something. Something horrifying. This stranger, he... he was adapting to his techniques. A chop that the master threw, the stranger would counter with a different technique of his own.

And so, the tides of battle quickly turned against him, Vermin using his own strategies and techniques against him, besting the man with a gut punch and a throw over the shoulder, which finally knocked the martial arts master out. Before Vermin moved out to get at the other opponents however, he walked on over to the master's unconscious body. He had examined him for a few, before stealing his black belt from him and tying it to his forehead instead, as some sort of bandanna. He had turned his back to the man and headed off to bust more heads with his bat, saying but a few parting words.

" Y'don't desahve this. I'll be taking it. "
Truth is that Shiro in normal martial arts would be already down for a count, It was visible in his eyes that in fact. The boy that stood still now was half concious and like in an automatic combat mode.
Blurs became even a bit more visible, but they looked like opponents of the past, or he could see his sensei sometimes too. What was he doing in the arena? He didnt participate, he should leave before someone gets mad at him for that.

Moms Anastasia and Xia were watching.. He wondered if they are proud of him or scared for him... Hmm... What is supposed to be a dinner for today?
He also saw the blue haired Man, looking like he was in his mid-twenties. He had a judging look on his face, that was more of a look that asked if he should fail the student or not.. Not the Version where he consider giving just a better or lower score. Was he that pathetic then?

A new entity attacked, was it a friend of a green blur that he tried to knock out earlier with the use of remain ing strenght that he still had after the hard fights with strong opponents that he went through?

An attack, longer limb was aiming to hit on the center of a chest, clearly aiming for a certain place.. Attack from below and it was extremely fast too. He extended his hand and blocked the blow, but he still felt in his chest and palm power behind the kick.. Whoever it was..They were quite strong and not as tired as him.

Then the person backed off.. Were they unsure of what to do next? They could probably see that few points dropped for Shiro after the kick. Shiro himself couldnt tell how many in this state.
He had his regrets. The regrets that he is no challange for others now, but Joel was very strong, around level 14 with a well suited to his capabilities Charyeok. Shiro had all the right to be tired and weakened after Such a fight.

His other regret is that he held back.. Didnt use any of his techniques aside from Armourclad.. Was it fair to other fighters? Shouldn't he give them his respect by going all out against them?

Its not that they were weak and wouldnt cause him trouble otherwise, its Just that it is supposed to be another part of the training for him. But doesnt he take away their dreams doing this?

He sensed movement behind him. Something bigger than Mysterious fighter that attempted to kick his chest. A tall one.. Masculine build.. He wondered if he saw that person before... He could tell that it was agressive tho, as it slowly regain ed momentum and was about to trash around.

The thing didnt seem to be facing him, but Shiro didnt took any chances and with quick jump, slammed his leg on something that could be a head and knocked the thing out again, but he couldnt tell if out cold.

Thats what he is now.. Reacting to any nearby movement and waiting to regain conciousness. Barely awake and still dangerous.

In the midst of the brawl, a trio of fighters were beginning to make themselves known. With a clash of blades, a bearded man of about 25 years of age used his handaxe to knock away an opponent's blade.

Fighter: Eric Leafson
Martial Art: Glima
A massive mountain of a man, coming in at 6'7" and 250 lbs. He wears baggy pants and a loose fitting long-sleeved shirt, and a brown vest. He has a large, brown beard and a black bandana over his head with a white skull and crossbones design on it. He is incredibly strong, using a hand ax and small club to beat down any opponent that gets in his way and his massive frame to tank any hits.

Eric swung with his club, hitting his opponent so hard they flew off across the arena.
"Bwahaha!" The massive man let out a hearty laugh, watching the poor man sail through the air.
"Eric, look out!" The large man looked back to see a woman wrapped in bandages, armed with a sickle, lunging towards him. But just before her sickle sunk into the back of Eric, it was deflected with a loud clang. A different woman quickly stepped between Eric and the bandaged sickle-fighter. She had short black hair, wearing a tricorn hat. She was dressed in clothe more fitting that of a pirate, with long brown boots, tan pants, and a black jacket. An old black powder musket could be seen slung across her back. She had a blue cloak thrown over her left arm, and was armed with a rapier in her right hand. She lunged forward, forcing the bandaged woman to retreat and parry with her sickle.

Fighter: Mary Falcone
Martial Art: Capo Ferro Fencing
An agile fighter with surprising defensive techniques, utilizing a dagger and her cloak as well.

"Be more aware of your surroundings, you dolt! Fight now, laugh later!" Mary called back to Eric angrily.
"I should say the same for you!" The bandaged woman rasped. Extending her arm, the bandages sudden shot out and began to wrap around Mary. The pirate woman gasped in surprise as she was suddenly yanked off her feet and towards the bandaged woman.

Fighter: Aziza Zaxaza
Charyeok: Ammit

"Mary!" Eric exclaimed, lunging towards the bandaged woman. With a cruel chuckle, the woman gestured upward and Mary was suddenly raised up between Eric and herself. Every attempt Eric made to attack the bandage woman, she would use Mary as a human shield. Eric gave an exasperated sigh.
"Come on, Mary. Really?!" Eric said. Mary groaned in pain, trying to pull on the bandages that held her bound.
"I'm... trying...! They're tougher... then... they look!" Mary grunted.
"HRAAA!" The bandage woman shrieked. She jumped out from behind Mary, slashing Eric across the chest with her sickle.
"Hehehe... Squirm all you like. It is no use, Ammit will devour you all!" The bandage woman said.
"Oh, for the love of... Captain!" Eric called out. A clicking sound caught Aziza's attention, and the bandage woman looked over to see another fighter approach. A young man, dressed in a green longcoat that looked straight out of the 1700's. He wore a dark red bandana on his head, with the black emblem of a skull above two swords on it. In one hand, he held a long cutlass. In the other, he was aiming a flintlock pistol at Aziza.

Fighter: Henry Moody
Martial Art: Radaellian Fencing

The young man grinned, his gold eyes seeming to glint in the bright lights of the arena.
"Careful, 'Captain'. Les you shoot your friend." Aziza rasped.
"Mr. Leafson?" The pirate captain called over. A shadow fell over Aziza, and the bandaged woman looked up to see the looming form of Eric Leafson standing over her.


Like a nail into a piece of wood, the bandage woman was hammered into the ground. The bandages that held Mary disappeared, and the pirate woman let out a gasp.
"You okay?" Henry asked, helping Mary back to her feet.
"You couldn't have helped sooner?" Mary grumbled.
"Hey, guys... check that out." Eric said. The large man pointed off. Not to far away, two fighters were having an intense clash. A massive, muscle-bound woman was exchanging blows with a normal-looking guy in jeans and a nintendo t-shirt. It was clear that although both of them had been fighting since the match started, the woman seemed stronger and with much more energy.
"Tiger Uppercut!" The woman roared.
Charyeok: Flame Tiger.

"Shienkyaku!" The Nintendo guy yelled simultaneously.
Charyeok: Salamander.

The two fighters lunged at each other simultaneously. Around the woman's fist, the flaming aura of a tiger roared. Around the man's leg, the flaming aura of a massive lizard screeched. A large dust cloud was kicked up from the impact of the two blows, and the three pirates shielded their eyes. The dust settled, revealing the hulking form of the Flame Tiger woman. Her reach had been just a bit more than the Nintendo man's. The flames ran up her right arm, forming into a flaming tiger that growled and looked over to the three pirates. The Tiger woman look over to the crew with a grin, before taking a fighting stance.
"Three on one, eh? I'll take you all!" The woman yelled. The three pirates readied themselves, brandishing their weapons for the woman's charge.

In the blink of an eye, there was a small, quick blur around the tiger woman. She looked down in confusion, then over her shoulder. Seeming to have appeared out of the fog, another fighter appeared. A man with long brown, unkept hair that came down to his back. He wore a dark blue kimono, and a black hakama. A large scar was clear on his left cheek. Even though his clothes were dark, Henry could see the blood staining the samurai's clothes. The samurai made a quick motion with his katana, flicking the blood from the sword before sheathing it. As if on clue, blood suddenly began to spray from cuts on the Tiger Woman's throat and stomach. She fell to her knees, frantically grabbing her throat. But her right hand was no longer there. Instead, there was a bloody stump. Henry heard Mary gasp.
"I didn't even see the attack, boss." Eric muttered to Henry.

Fighter: Gisei
Martial Art: Kenjutsu

The samurai stared towards the pirates, standing a good 15 yards away. There was something about his eyes that sent a shiver down the spine of Mary and Eric. They were cold. Empty. As if the samurai was looking right through them.
"Yep, not gonna deal with that right now!" Henry said. The pirate pointed his cutlass at the Gisei.
"Captain!" Mary yelled, panic clear in her voice. The samurai broke out into a sprint towards the trio.
"Rise from the deep and fight again! Your captain commands it! My Charyeok! Queen Anne's Revenge!!!" Henry yelled.


Annie was starting to panic slightly. Perhaps she had taken too many hits to the head, but for some reason she could not find her revolvers. She knew she shouldn't have thrown them or dropped them, just put them back in her holsters. Alerted by sensing movement, the cowgirl turned and fired two shots. The fighter running up to fight Annie dropped. Suddenly, Annie felt the ground under her feet shake. There was a massive crash, louder than the gunshots or roar of the crowd. Annie suddenly found herself standing in the shadow of something massive.

A ship had suddenly appeared in the middle of the arena. Over 100 feet long, it was one of those ye-olde frigates from the 16th or 17th century. It stayed upright somehow, not falling over, and it's massive sails were open on it's mast. Annie could even see the cannons poking out of its portholes. Three fighters quickly scrambled on to the ship, ducking below deck. The entire ship shimmered with some sort of ethereal energy, and from this distance Annie could make out the name on the side of it.

The Queen Anne's Revenge.

Annie had done her fair share of research, trying to learn more about Charyeoks. But one that was a pirate ship was not what she was expecting.


Previously Night's Shadow
Taeran blinked, still crouched in Rabbit stance, but perplexed. The man who had just tried to attack the white haired boy looked… really familiar. Isn’t that the guy that we… She took a split second to glance behind her, where she had left a nearly unconscious man. What she saw only confused her further.

The man she had choked out was still there, lying in the same position Taeran had left him. But the man’s body looked almost deflated, not to mention the fact that he looked like he had been blown open from the inside, the skin of his face and chest ripped open— but oddly, no blood. Taeran looked back just in time to catch sight of the hammer blow, the direct hit to the top of the skull. It was definitely the same man; not that it mattered much now. A cracking sound had come from the point of impact— if not caving in his skull, then a nasty concussion.

The white haired boy leaped back as the man fell, almost in slow motion, like a great redwood that had been felled. The boy stayed in his stance, though he looked unsure if he had hit his target, blood clouding his eyes. The three stood at a standstill for a moment, the duplicate of the man from before collapsed, the white haired boy half-blind, and Taeran trying to make sense of it all.

It became a little clearer in the next moment. The frog girl’s gaze had been flicking between her opponents, while still vibrating with anticipation of an attack from behind, when a wet tearing sound cut the tension like a knife. Taeran skittered back a half-step, eyes shooting toward the burly bald man. He had landed facedown, but now his back had been torn open, from his head to his tailbone. The wet ripping sounds continued as a large hump began to emerge from the man’s unconscious body. Again, there was no blood, just an odd slime similar to Taeran’s own that stretched between the body and the shadow. The figure extracted itself from the man’s torn body, revealing… the same man, standing, at full strength again.

Except he wasn’t quite the same. He was larger than before, bulkier, and covered in what looked like fine fur. His hands now had wicked claws, and his standing position was more hunched, lumbering, as though he would need to use all fours to get anywhere. The rejuvenated man grinned, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth.

Fighter: Kir
Martial Art: Brutal Fist
Charyeok: Cat’s Chrysalis

What the hell…?
Taeran thought, sharing in Dwight’s confusion. What happened to—

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the entire arena. A massive pirate ship had shimmered into existence, three people like ants scrambling onto it and then disappearing. Fights across the entire stage stopped as participants looked on in fear or awe. Other fighters took advantage of their opponent’s curiosity to deal the final blow. Still others ignored its appearance entirely, continuing their own battles as though nothing had happened. Taeran cast a sidelong glance at the shimmering hull for a split second, before turning back to her opponents. The white haired boy was still there. The no-longer-bald man…

“Pay attention to your own opponent,” the man snarled, black lips still pulled back in a grimacing smirk. Taeran barely had time to register that he was behind her, whirling just before his claws came down. Her shoulder opened, three of the five claws hitting their mark, gouging deep cuts into her arm. It was better that than her back, though, where she was her weakest, her parasite’s body nestled between her shoulder blades. He’s fast!

Dwight’s inner voice was stronger now, as though he had accepted the idea that there were people who could be as strong as — or stronger than — them in this tournament. I got your shoulder. Let’s kick some kitty ass. Slime began to seep out from the skin of Taeran’s shoulder, covering the wound in a slick, protective layer, as well as holding it together, numbing the pain, and keeping the blood where it was supposed to be.

Taeran leaped backwards, dancing out of range, now in Tiger form. This guy is strong translated to This is going to be fun. But the furred man wasn’t after her anymore. In the blink of an eye, he was slashing at the white-haired boy, grinning maniacally. Taeran shot forwards, aiming for the man’s back, which was to her as he attacked Shiro. As if he knew exactly what she was thinking, though, he turned, claws raised.

“I’ll take you both on!” he yowled. “I am Kir! You may have taken two of my lives, but I’ll take both of yours! The Cat’s Chrysalis will take you both to your graves!”

@Clite of Dragonbow
(OOC: sorry for the wait! But here we go)
Isak was running out of targets. The weaker opponents were quickly getting massacred. This would be problematic as Isak didn't have much he could do against the more skilled ones. In fact, the last two opponents he faced had been a bit more skilled than him. The only reason he managed to get out of those situations was because they had taken a bit more of a beating than him. But targeting people that were injured wouldn't be a reliable strategy either, Isak was growing weaker himself after all. His right arm was hurting after a chick had thrown a shuriken into it, his chest was hurting after a kick, one of his daggers was lost under a sumo-wrestler and his legs were screaming for him to take a break. The arm healed quickly thanks to the nanotech but it still hurt quite a bit. He had decided to keep to himself for the duration of the tournament but... seeing how tough it actually was to be there he knew he had to re-evaluate. He needed help.

Not for the entire tournament, only the preliminaries. He was still set on not making any friends. So when he caught a glimpse of a white-haired dude in a bartender's outfit he knew who he'd offer an alliance with. The guy was a bit full of himself but he had also decided that he'd focus on the prize rather than making friends. Isak ducked as a guy was thrown above his head while he began making his way towards the white-haired dude.

He kept his remaining dagger ready as he knew damn well that he could easily risk losing by approaching the guy. Better safe than sorry, but he should also not be too aggressive as that could come off as a challenge rather than an offer for an alliance.
"Hello again, ice-bartender. I come in peace and with an offer" he said, making sure that he seemed as non-threatening as possible yet willing to defend himself by keeping a four meter distance while at the same time holding the dagger pointed at the guy.



Previously Shadow_Pup
Racing around avoiding attacks was a easy task for Jake but he was aware that his limit would be reached soon and with it his sanity, he kept on the move ready to parry any attack when he was suddenly stopped in his tracks by the appearance of a pirate ship. He came to a screeching holt next to the cowgirl he had noticed before, "you have got to be bleeding joking" he said his British accent even thicker when he swore, he turned to the cowgirl, sort of forgetting that he was in a tournament "you see this too, right love" he said pointing at the pirate ship "I ain't gone and lost my sanity already, 'ave I" he said spinning his knife casually. He stood there for a few seconds before remembering what was going on "oh feck that's right we're in a tournament, God that ship rattled me good and proper" he turned to the girl again "hey..um truce" he said putting his hands slightly in the air knowing if they fought her guns would be an issue.
@Captain Cardboard
Annie quickly spun to face the source of who was speaking to her, leveling her rifle at him. He was a younger man, maybe close to her age, with scruffy brown hair. His clothes seemed plain and normal, like what one would wear when just out and about. Not usual for a fighting tournament, but then again neither were her own clothes. He spoke with a clear british accent, and gestured around with his knife before looking back to her. The cowgirl cocked her rifle, keeping it trained on Jake.

"An' why should ah take y' up on that? You an' I ain't exactly acquainted." Annie said.
"WAAAUGH!" A man screamed with fear, flying between the two fighters and landing on the ground with a heavy thud. He groaned before passing out. Annie glanced over to the man for a moment before focusing back on Jake. "Fer all ah know, yer lookin' ta stick that fancy toothpick 'tween mah ribs an' call it a day."

Annie grinned, tilting her head. Not taking her eyes off Jake, she aimed her rifle to her left and fired two more shots. The masked woman that was rapidly approaching folded, clutching her stomach. Quick as a flash, Annie had cocked the rifle once again and had it aimed back at Jake.

Three shots fer the ballista guy. Two fer Mr. Charger. Two fer the masked lady. Two shots left, ah've been too wasteful. Got to keep it reined in. Does th' blatherskite know it?

"So, what's it gonna be, 'chap'? Ah ain't got all day." Annie asked Jake.

Pew! Pew!

Annie cried out in pain, falling to her knees. Two bullets had pierced her, hitting her in the back. Through the melee of fighters, another combatant approached. He was a well dressed man, appearing to be in his mid-thirties. Like others for this tournament, he was dressed unusually. His black tuxedo and dress pants made him appear like he was more suited for a business meeting then the god of highschool tournament, and did a good job making it difficult to see how strong he physically appeared. He swiftly walked towards Annie and Jake, armed with a silenced pistol in hand. Seeing that Annie had fallen, the well dressed man aimed his pistol at Jake and fired two shots at the fighter.
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His mind slowly started to get blank, his hp was lower ing due to Blood lost.. He was reckless with capoeira guy and now some kitty will beat him?
Guess instinct will need to take place
The Claws were coming for Shiro, and he was Just standing there as of now as if ready to get hit.. And yet.
"Ira furor brevis est"
(Anger is a brief Madness)

Suddenly kitten kir would feel a back pain and his face would face the ceiling.
"Sic itur ad Astra"
(Thus people head towards the stars)

A Pain in a head... As if something Just completely smashed it... One life was gone.
Shiro did a throw, holding to a hand that the monster tried to hit him and later Taeran with, then he smashed him at the ground and send his foot like a Hammer, smashing the head to the ground.

After that he waited till the kitten formed. It said something, he couldnt hear it and attacked him again, bigger than before. Shiro however dodged the monster that was still laying On the ground and as he jumped, landed with his feats at the beings' chest, a Loud crack resounded in the arena.
"Disce Libens"
(Learn Eagerly)



Previously Shadow_Pup
Jake shrugged "well you are correct you have no reason to trust me but I honestly believe that taking you out now would be a waste" he stated before watching the flurry of actions take place ending with the cowgirl taking two shots two the side. Spotting the well dressed man out of the corner of his eye, he reacted just as the man fired dodging under his line of fire and swiftly moving forward. But ge wasn't quite quick enough as one of the man's shots hit him square in the shoulder, he ignored the pain and lunged forward plunging his knife into the man's throat, he stood for a second to gather himself before returning to the cowgirl and offering a helping hand, "at least let me help you up, then if you want you can shoot me" Jake said with a stupid grin.
Annie slowly sat up, gritting her teeth in pain from having been shot. Where she had been hit seemed to burn like fire, worse than when she had been gored by ol' Angus. She could still move, which was good. Lucky, she supposed.
"Dang it Wyatt..." Annie grumbled. The British guy quickly dispatched the man in the suit, and Annie tensed as he turned back towards her. But instead of pushing his advantage, the british guy offered her his hand. Even though he was bleeding from being shot in the shoulder. And yet he was smiling! Was this guy for real?

Annie chuckled and shook her head. Grabbing her rifle, she took Jake's hand and let him pull her up.
"Alright, ah'll put th' shootin' of yew on hold. What should ah be callin' yew, stranger- Look out!"

The well dressed man had gotten back to his feet, and Annie pulled Jake out of the way as the spy fired two more shots. They flew wild, and has he closed the distance Annie was able to get a closer look at him. One of the lenses of his sunglasses had popped out from being slammed to the ground by Jake, revealing a bloodshot eye with a red iris. There was a hole in his neck where Jake had stabbed him, but no blood was coming out! With a small 'slink!' noise, Annie saw the small blade emerge from the tip of the spy's shoe. He aimed a kick at Annie's head, one that the cowgirl was just barely able to dodge. The blade still managed to cut off one of Annie's pigtails.

In one quick move, the well dressed man was already turned to face Jake. He aimed a quick, powerful jab at Jake's shoulder where he had been shot, hoping to exploit the injury Jake had received. It was then Annie saw it. A form appearing just behind the well dressed man. A corpse, rotten and mostly decayed, but still standing.

Fighter: Special Agent Zulu Mike Bravo
Charyeok: Zombie


Previously Night's Shadow
The white haired boy swayed, as if about to pass out. Taeran watched in morbid curiosity as his HP blinked down to zero. The air seemed to still, hang frozen for a moment… then another blip from the boy’s bracelet. His footing became steady again, and he threw himself at Kir, faster than before, almost animalistic. Taeran launched herself backwards, out of the way of Kir’s slashing claws and Shiro’s answering strikes. With a sickening crack, Kir went down again, but only long enough for Taeran and the white-haired boy to catch their breath before the skin tore open once again. Huge fangs now dominated Kir’s face, his shoulders hulking, his knees reversed into a catlike gait.

Shiro was off like a shot again, aiming both feet at Kir’s chest. On contact, another crack rang out, and Kir stumbled back a half-step— Taeran wondered if Shiro had killed him again, but a second later she saw where the sound had come from. One massive pawlike hand had caught the kick, claws reaching around Shiro’s feet, almost long enough to scratch his ankles. Kir grinned, showing off the impressive fangs crammed into a half-human mouth, before lifting Shiro by his grip and tossing him over his huge shoulders.

Kir cracked his knuckles on the ground, a deceptively slow lope towards Taeran, who gave an answering adrenaline-soaked grin. She held steady, vibrating with anticipation, as Kir approached almost lazily— then suddenly he was gone, a few strands of long black fur fluttering to the ground the only sign he had been there, even faster than his previous “life”.

Taeran’s head swiveled, and she dropped to the ground on all fours as a meaty paw-hand swiped by inches above her head. She darted under Kir, between his catlike legs, then bounded off the edge of the arena cage to flip onto his back, hands bunched in the thick mane. The frog girl locked a leg around his neck, too thick around to use her arms now, and dug her other knee into the base of his skull. Kir roared in annoyance, reaching back with his arms to try and claw her off, but his balance couldn’t be sustained on legs with backwards, catlike joints. He writhed in place for a few moments, then stumbled over to the wall. For a second, Taeran thought he was weakening and leaning on the wall for support— then she was slammed into the concrete part below where the cage started.

Taeran hung on, tightening her grip on Kir’s neck, but as she was slammed against the wall a third time, she let go, latching onto the cage instead and scrambling out of range. Kir shook his head as though clearing it, then leaped up, unnaturally high, reaching to bat Taeran off her perch. But before his claws could reach her, she threw herself off the cage, twisting to strike his head with her knee from above. It struck his shoulder instead as he twisted away in return. The two tussled in the air for a moment or two, falling towards the arena floor.

A second before they both would have hit the ground, though, a massive pair of spotted wings burst through the skin of Taeran’s back and folded back, forcing the man-monster to the bottom position, her hand gripping his forehead. Kir’s head hit the ground first, the force of the impact strong enough to crack the concrete. The cat-man twitched, then grew still once again. Meanwhile, Taeran staggered sideways, leaning against the wall of the arena. Blood seeped from where her wings hand emerged, though it was mixed with slime that numbed the pain.

Sorry, Dwight thought to the girl. You were in bad shape. We needed to kill that guy, take him out of the picture. Not sorry. But your back’s gonna hurt like a bitch once this is over, so I’m a little sorry for that part.

The claws at the main joint of Dwight’s wings hooked into the arena cage, pretty much the only thing keeping Taeran standing. The girl clenched her teeth, wiping the sweat gathering at her chin with the back of her hand. I’ll be fine, she mentally muttered, unsteadily wobbling away from the wall’s support. As though she was controlling it, Dwight’s wings folded away from the cage to rest their claws on the ground in extra support. Just keep the slime coming, I could use the protection. Plus, your assessment of “hurting like a bitch” is definitely accurate. Let’s just survive these prelims and get to the finals.

Silently, unnoticed by the girl, the unconscious Kir’s latest body split open again. A feline shadow broke free from its chrysalis.


Previously Shadow_Pup
Jake had been about to introduce himself before the girl cried out, he turned seeing the guy he had been sure he'd dealt with up and coming at them. He noticed the man's condition and groaned, "I hate zombies" he said as the man lunged at his injured shoulder...and Jake thrust his wounded limb into the man's attack, the jab collided knocking Jake off Balance, but this had been his plan as when he was knocked one way his arm came swinging round knife ready and slashed the well dressed man across the face, knocking him back. Jake stood breathing heavily his arm felt like it was on fire. With a grimace he glanced down at the arm wielding the knife, angry red veins had begun to stem from where he was holding his knife, the first tell tale sign his insanity mode was starting, he ignored his pain and his sanity and moved towards the man. As he did he had an idea, with quick reflexes he darted forward and threw his knife into the man's foot, pinning him to the ground for a moment. He then wrapped himself around the man holding him in place as best he could and then called out "hey cowgirl, shoot him in the head" he said grimacing as the man pounded on his injury in an attempt to free himself.
The special agent attempted to move back as Jake charged him, only for Jake to have thrown a knife into his foot. That gave enough time for Jake to grapple the spy, and the two wrestled in place. The spy seemed unaffected by the pain of having a knife in his foot, pulling his foot from the ground with the knife still in it. Annie aimed her rifle at Zulu, but him and Jake were constantly moving and preventing her from getting a clean shot. And shoot him in the head?! She didn't want to kill this guy!

Zulu pounded Jake's shoulder for only a moment. When that didn't work, the spy changed tactics. Using his free hand, he grabbed ahold of Jake's hair and pulled. It wasn't enough to escape Jake's grip, but it was enough to maneuver slightly. Zulu attempted to press his pistol into Jake's stomach and fire twice at point blank range. There was the opening for Annie. The cowgirl spun her rifle, grabbing a hold of the barrel. Annie suddenly closed the distance as Zulu fired the first shot, and cracked the spy over the head with the butt of her rifle. The spy's sunglasses went flying, and the man went limp in Jake's arms.

Annie looked up Jake.
"Shoot him in the head?! Are y'crazy?! This is a fightin' tournament, not th' murderdome! Ah ain't here ta kill people!" Annie said to British man.


Previously Shadow_Pup
Jake dusted himself off once the man fell, and cooked his head slightly "really, I've probably killed loads of people by this point, it just comes with the territory" he said casually waving his knife around in front of him, having retrieved it from the man's foot. He shrugged "I can understand where your coming from..kind of" he said glancing around realising the number of people was dying down "anyway I thought these bracelets stopped us from actually dying" he said with a nonchalant motion pointing at the bracelets.
Annie winced as the pain from being shot began to set in. She looked back and around at some of the fighters fallen nearby, with a few bearing grievous wounds constant with a knife. Victims of this British guy? Annie held up her own bracelet and pointed at it angrily.
"This thing is supposed ta heal ya real quick like, it ain't a miracle machine! An' even if it was one, ah ain't eager ta see if it can patch up a massive hole in someone's head. At close range ah'm sure this rifle could blow someone's head clean off, ain't no one comin' back from that. Ah ain't gonna take that risk. Not if ah can help it." Annie said. If this guy was going around fighting people in a way that would kill them in real life, maybe this wasn't someone Annie wanted to team up with... The cowgirl watched Jake with suspicion. She held her rifle at the ready, not pointed at Jake, but ready to use it on him if she needed to.
"Who in the hell are yew, anyhow?" Annie asked Jake.


The samurai Gisei paced through the lower deck of the pirate ship 'The Queen Annie's Revenge', emotionless. The three pirates which he had pursued onto the ship had somehow, seemingly vanished. The captain's quarters. The lower decks. The cargo hold. All empty. Well, empty of the three pirates. A few of the more bold fighters had climbed aboard, perhaps to seek shelter, or seek powerful opponents. Gisei had cut them down one by one, and none remained. The samurai looked over the lower deck once more, before making his way back up onto the main deck. He stood on the deck of the ship, looking over the crowd of fighters. He stood and waited, doing nothing but watching.
Kir was a monstrosity at this point, large as a horse cat like-being, that could give a Lion run for his money. The Beast that regained its last life glared at the girl that harmed him and was about to end it.

Before that, Shiro managed to land on his feets after being yeeted by a cat. He didnt seem to move.. Nothing came his way, nothing triggered his state. He could rest...

"Like hell I will!!!" He shouted and hit his face with his fist. He regained conciousness and looked around. Nothing Control ed him and he felt a Little better than earlier. He remembered recent fights as if through a fog, yet he couldnt Focus on that now.

A girl with wings(?) seemed to be in trouble as some beast was looking her way. He didnt remember the girl, but he remembered green blur and giant thing. He assumed that giant was the Beast he is looking at right now.

He made his way to the Beast and then kicked it hard in a face, but the thing didnt move "Huh-..." He blinked few times, that wasnt a reaction he expected. He then he was grabbed and about to be smashed at the floor. Shiro let his hands and legs behind and used his strenght So his back doesnt hit the floor. He kicked beast paw away and then changed tactic, went behind the Beast and then stood on his leg, performing a capoeira kick of his previous opponent, sending the Beast with a Loud noise of the feet slamming at the back in the girls direction. "Go and finish the guy!" He yelled out.


Previously Night's Shadow
A harsh impact from behind Taeran made her turn with an exhausted groan. “Shit,” she whined, a tired edge in her voice. “He’s still not down?” Her arm ached and her vision swam, though she could still make out the HP denotation on her bracelet, showing just a little less than a hundred. Her eyes tracked the white haired boy and the giant cat-monster as they clashed, though the boy was now clearly outmatched in terms of brute force. She shook her head, trying to get back in the game. “Come on, Dwight,” she muttered, “one more push. Like delivering a— goddamn— baby—!”

A slimy, spotted, muscular tail tore out of Taeran’s lower back, and she grit her teeth and growled against the odd feeling that would eventually become pain.

Go on and finish the guy!”

A wordless, almost primal roar ripped from the girl’s lungs, two minds working as one in the same body. It was unclear who was in control of Taeran’s mouth when she lunged forward with a wild, “It’d be my pleasure!” The last word twisted into a snarl. Wings beat, lifting her high into the air while Kir was distracted, and as the horse-sized cat-creature leaped up to bat her out of the air, Taeran rose higher.

She fell with Kir, but not pinned beneath a ham-sized paw. The bladed tail at her lower back had been thrust into her opponent’s stomach, and it tore a jagged, upwards gash in his underside as he fell. Taeran dropped like a stone, dislodging her tail, and unfurling her wings again just in time to slow her descent enough to land on her feet. The catlike competitor twitched, then lay still, blood and gore seeping out of his stomach even as nanobots rushed to repair the gash. Taeran turned away, Dwight lashing their tail to flick off the blood. He wouldn’t die, and the paralysis from her poison wouldn’t be permanent— but it had been enough to take him out.

Their next battle might not be so easy, whenever it comes.

As the adrenaline left her body, Taeran went almost limp, held up by Dwight’s wings and tail. “Like delivering a baby,” she muttered again, wryly. She lifted her head, still essentially hanging from where the wings’ connections to her back held her a few inches above the ground, and raised an arm to point towards Shiro. “You, snowflake boy!” She called out the first thing that came to mind, and grinned. “I’ll see you in the finals!”

The roar of the crowd at the two apparent children who had overcome the monstrous cat man was deafening, and Taeran cast an irritated glance up through the cage. Everything beyond it was a muddled swamp of colors and darkness and her head pounded tremendously, and the cacophony of elated screams and annoyed booing certainly didn’t help.

Good job, Dwight, Taeran thought, in a way congratulating herself, as odd as that seemed.

Good job yourself, you dumb blonde.

Gee, thanks.

She graced the crowd with one victory lap around the top of the arena cage, if only to spread around her Italian salute to the particular section of the crowd that had been screaming louder than most, before selecting a perch and clinging there on the mesh. With any luck, the participants below would thin themselves out before she had to fight anymore— and in the meantime, it was time for rest.


Previously Deathstalker62
Vermin, the Hobo with a Bat of Fire (and a Blackbelt tied around his forehead..)
Taking a glance around the arena, it seems people are starting to use their Charyeoks, as was clearly evident by the GIANT FUCKING PIRATE SHIP IN THE ARENA. ..a fucking ship. Not even a modern cruiser, but an actual wood-built, mast-having, flag-waving ship. In this Arena full of people who wanna bash each other's skulls in. Great. Amazing. Fantastic. Why ever it now stood there, Vermin was having none of it. That thing? Certified Deathtrap right there. Why else would someone summon something this massive, if not to bait in others for an easy takedown?

" A gawddamn pirate ship? What the hell?! Who the fu- You know what? It don't mattah. Let's just beat othahs heeuh, I ain't dealing with that right now. "

Turning his whole attention to another group of fighters - some sort of street gang with various weapons. Lead Pipes, Knives, hell, one of them even had a baseball bat like him. Wooden though, not Aluminum. What a shame. Some even had guns, as he noticed. Just two of them, though. And mere pistols at that. So, that makes those two his priority. Time for some fun.

Reaching for his pockets, Vermin took two tennis balls from them, holding them locked in the grasp of his fingers. His whole body now lit on fire as he threw them in the air, along with his bat, which came to take a red glow to it as it became superheated, to the point where it was quite literally burning. As the two balls fell back down, he struck them at such an angle that they'd both fly to their targets, aiming to pelt them right on the cheek. And as if that wasn't enough, contact with the bat caused the tennis balls to turn into burning spheres of fire, proving further damage caused when they would hit.

" Wow, who knew barely anyone would think of taking guns with 'em, ay Rick? "
" 'Said it like it is, Marcel. Apparently, these idiots just prefer 'marshall carts' or what'ver fancy shit they be using h- "

As the lanky ruffian was about to finish his speech, a burning ball of flame smacked him right in the cheek, causing him to be knocked off his feet from the force and pain of the fire, making him drop the gun in the process, which ended up unloading its chambered bullet into the leg of another of his compatriots, the one who held the switchblade, also making the man drop from the unexpected pain.

The other shooter's attention was grabbed by this and as he looked briefly to his fallen comrade, he looked up again to meet another flaming tennis ball, this one heading straight smack in the middle of his forehead, knocking him out in the process. Since the remaining two were left fighting with other competitors, they could not notice as a flash of red kept coming closer and closer before moving right past them - a constant flash of burning blazes, disappearing and re-appearing midair, taking a tall humanoid shape.

When Garred, the bulky man who appeared to be the leader of the group, was finished battering someone else into submission with his baseball bat, his attention was grabbed by a source of intense warmth appearing behind him. Before he could turn around, his two fellow subordinates, Jared and Hayden (the guys with the Knife and Lead Pipe respectively) were shot to submission with the bullet holes emitting smoke from them as they were getting fixed up again.

Ahead of him stood a burning figure. A man, really. His features were identifiable, but his entire being was set ablaze, as were his eyes and the guns he was holding. A menacing sight to anyone, but not to him. He wasn't scared of the figure.. and for good reason. Fire never was a problem to him ever since his Charyeok had been a thing. In fact, taking damage at all hadn't been much of a problem to him. For he was..

- Stonemoore Gang Leader -
- Garred, the Unbreakable -

With his Charyeok: Heart of the Golem, his skin, his physique.. his Charyeok allowed him to have it become like a Boulder.


The burning stranger attempted to fire more rounds into his skin, but it was to no avail. Garred couldn't help but laugh at the pitiful attempt. His men, downed by this dumbass? What a joke. Time to settle this matter. This idiot wasn't worth the time of day, nevermind the participation in this tournament. Charging forward, Garred delivered a punch square to the stranger's jaw, pushing him back and to the ground. Really now, he'd just let him hit him like that? No retaliation? Hm, maybe this guy's realised he can't do anything against him. Maybe.. he might actually be smart enough to forfeit.

Now THAT packed a punch. Vermin could really feel the force behind the punch, his mouth aching in pain from it. Almost felt like his jaw was gonna break there, as if a sledgehammer hit him square in the chin. Well, now that he gauged the guy's strength.. it was time to work his magic. Disappearing and re-appearing, Vermin stood straight up, Baseball Bat in hand. It was Go Time.

So, the burning man reached for his actual weapon. A red-hot glowing, even aflame baseball bat. Go figure. Well, seeing as he was also a fellow 'battering' enjoyer so to speak, Garred figured to humour this poor bastard a bit. He took his own bat out and ran forward, clashing weapon to weapon against the man. While Garred had the strength advantage.. size and technique were what he was lacking at. His strikes were sloppy, focusing mostly on brute force rather than tactic. Like his lifestyle, Garred didn't know what challenge was, thus having never found a need to really use his head as his muscles did the talking for him.

Vermin couldn't help but notice how idiotic this man's fighting style was. He didn't seem to care where he swung his baseball bat, but just that it hit Vermin at all. Really, all this brawn and no brains? He couldn't believe it. He REALLY was fighting a walking, talking cliché bad guy. Strong, cocky, but not at all smart. What even. Well, at least he could get some good hits in, using his strategies to whittle away at this guy slowly but surely, like if he were swinging away at an ore vein with his pickaxe. Surely, with some more swings, he could finally open a weak spot to break this (literal) mountain of a man open eventually.

Now, he was starting to get mad. Garred could not get a single hit in, while the stranger kept dancing around his swings, blocking them with his own bat and retaliating swiftly. Sure, his armour could last him against the burning bat but his anger did not stop. In fact, it just kept rising. So much so that it became overwhelming and caused him to throw out a large swing, raising the bat far above his head and aiming to slam it down on the man's head - screw it if he dies, squashing this guy's head like a watermelon was gonna be the only thing to calm him down now.

There, an open spot! As his opponent prepared for a fatal blow, Vermin suddenly vanished as the weapon came crashing down, striking the ground and causing the man to drop his guard in momentary confusion. His opponent had just been standing there! WHERE COULD HE HAVE POSSIBLY GONE?! THAT COWARD!! HOW DARE HE JUST RUN FROM THE HEAD OF THE STONEMOORE GA-

And then, the man felt a sharp pain on his head. Though he did not realise it, his enemy wasn't just striking him randomly, unlike Garred. Vermin was striking only precisely the top of his head to whittle down the layer of hardened rock protecting it. And, when the 'fatal' swing came and went.. he disappeared, only to re-appear above his opponent, delivering his own final blow by crashing down and hitting the exposed spot with full force. His rocky enemy wobbled for a bit, pathetically swinging around himself.. before coming down with a loud thump onto the ground, his Charyeok's effect vanishing. Before it fell however, Vermin took the man's black leather jacket and pulled it off of him as the knocked out gang leader fell, removing it from him and leaving him only with his red tank top.

" Hm. Actually a bit of a challenge. Too bad you lacked the skill to actually give me a run faw my money. Faw shame, man. Faw shame. I'm taking this as cawmpensation faw the immense amount of disappointment you gave me. "

Throwing the Jacket over his own person and putting it on, Vermin's flame evaporated as he decided to sit down with these fellas, finding some place to holster his two new, loaded toys in and decided to watch the others for now, figuring someone would probably try to fight him sooner or later. If not, he could always just leap back into action himself. Now though? Just a quick rest to check his trophies and recover from the still-hurting jaw punch. That really was a good punch, why DID he ever let himself get hit to gauge the guy's strength? Could've just looked at his muscles and skin... oh well, too late now.


Previously Schrift007
Ryo had spent a large portion of the tournament simply picking off anyone who looked in the general direction of him. It wasn't a plan that got him easily recognised by the crowd but it was one that made him meet a variety of opponents. Not many stood out to him, a boxer, a wrestler, a taekwondo fighter and a muay thai enthusiast. All of them met defeat to Ryo's simple overwhelming physical capabilities. At this point his bartender attire was starting to be covered more in blood as he just pushed through fighters. It wasn't until he came across a single lone fighter did things change for him drastically. At first this fighter stood no taller than 4'11, shaved bald and cowering low on the floor. Wearing a leather jacket and a pair of tight fitting jeans all topped off with a pair of bright red boots. Ryo didn't know how to approach him, what should he do? Comfort him, beat him down into the ground, what could he do?

As he approached the boy, he felt a small pain in his abdomen. At first it confused Ryo, what just hit him? As he stared down he looked at the patch of red sinking through his shirt. Was he just... As he looked at it he could feel the pain starting to set in. A hot searing pain that jolted through his whole body. The boy was now laughing as he stood up, holding what seemed to be a pair of revolvers aimed at Ryo. Where on earth did he get them? Ryo placed his hands up as the boy wavered the guns in his direction, "Really? Guns? I mean the only person I saw with... those, do they belong to you?". Ryo wondered if it could be possible, did he nab them off that cowboy girl? Maybe he did. It was no business of Ryo's but he was just curious, since if they were hers... then maybe it's best Ryo look out for them since even if he had a chance he wasn't dodging unscathed. "I just found them here, it's a sign of good luck! Fortune! My luck hasn't-", Ryo let out a yawn midway through the boy's mini speech. He wasn't going to hear some crazy talk today not now, not ever. "So this is the first time you've ever used a gun I'm guessing? Well looking at how much your arms are shaking-" BANG, Ryo was cut off by the sound of gunshot as a bullet passed by his head. On one hand Ryo could be scared here, on the other he could trust his gut. He started to slowly approach the boy, hands still up as he lowered himself. "If you're going to- ah forget it-" SNAP- from above a giant dragon head formed suddenly around the boy. Having him stand directly in the mouth of the creature. As it appeared in the stage it glowed a bright green, as its scales shimmered under the lights. There was a grotesque squelch sound that came as the dragon vanished into a green mist, leaving behind the boy now mangled with his limbs contorted and blood splattered around him. Ryo looked down, picking up the revolvers and shrugging off how he just crippled a person within the ring. He placed both guns into his waist coat jacket before walking off to find some other opponents.

As the ship appeared over the fighters bellow, Ryo stared up at it. Fuck that, he wasn't going to go up there and fight on a pirate ship yet! He still had people below he had to pick on. Well sort of, as he wandered through that bullet wound really didn't help him. Sure he was strong but it was really starting to affect his combat, especially when he still wasn't using his martial arts. Well, almost. As he walked on he was approached by a rather tall looking girl, brandishing what seemed to be a large black club. Really? Was he going to have to fight another weapon user? What happened to all those boxers, they were pretty fun. "I see you-", Ryo again didn't wait for any comments he just charged at her. Using what strength he had, as he closed the distance. Hands open and flat, he raised them up. On his wristband the numbers raised. His Level hitting 15. The girl swinging out of reflex, went for an upward strike with her club. It all ended quickly, Ryo side stepping the swing as he brought down his own. First Form, Sword and shield. The blow had managed to cut through the girl's club, as Ryo left no time to spare, he changed his posture once more. Form 3, axe and hammer, swinging his knee to the side the blow landed on her chest as Ryo could hear her ribs cracking under the pressure. The blow sent her flying into the side of the ship and through the hull. As Ryo began to go back to his relaxed stance, his level dropped back doing going down. 14, 13, 12, 11, and finally back to 10.

"Aye aye aye, I got a bit too carried away-", cut off from talking to himself, Ryo turned around as he was met face to face with Isaak. "An- what? As if I'd need-", Ryo stumbled a bit maybe getting shot in the gut wasn't the best idea. "I'm fine- I don't need help. Didn't you just see what I did? I can tell you as the greatest fighter here, I don't need an alliance", he said. Ryo had an idea come to mind to help him a bit if this was going to turn into a brawl. He took off his waist coat, revealing a blood stained white shirt underneath. And with his waist coat he tied it around his abdomen. Using his tie to then secure it, just so he would stop dripping blood. He still had the two revolvers on him. Albeit now inside the waistcoat jacket tourniquet thing he had just made. Well looking around at the other contestants, it seemed he may not even need this as more fights were starting to come to a close as the amount of fighters left had decreased massively. The prelims were gonna come to an end soon.
Isak sighed while shaking his head. This guy was more full of himself than he thought. A complete buzzkill too.
"Yeah, I bet that wound is just decorative. Don't be a dumb-ass. There's some asshole over there with a whole ass pirate-ship as a Cherry-oak. Likely loaded with cannons and shit. You may or may not be good enough to take me on and keep going, but would you really want to risk another stab-wound with that thing present?" He said as he spun his knife once to make his point all the more clear.

Just because Isak was focused on the ice-cream cone in front of him, didn't mean he wasn't aware of what was going on around him. He could see from the corner of his eyes a bunch of contestants fall in defeat, jump and run around. But at the moment there was no one that had their sights on him or the ice-cream cone as far as he could tell, though he kept his ears focused to see if anyone would approach him from behind.
Annie scowled as she stared down the crazy brit.
"Ah ain't got time fer this! Thanks fer the help, but ah got ta keep movin'." Annie told Jake. She turned and began to run to a more defensible area of the area. Parts of the arena had been torn up, seemingly by some of the stronger fighters. Annie was hurting from the few fights she had been in, and getting shot sure hadn't helped. Annie ducked behind some rubble, grabbing a handful of bullets from her belt and reloading her rifle. There were still sounds of gunshots echoing through the arena. Annie had not been the only one that had brought guns, so it seemed.

The crowd roared. Apparently, something had happened. Annie peeked over her pile of rubble, trying to see anything. That massive pirate ship was still in the way, unfortunately. But Annie caught the familiar sight of a frog-like girl making a lap around the top of the arena cage. It seemed like Taeran was doing well. Annie smiled and waved her hat
"Yeah, git along lil' froggie!" Annie called up to Taeran. The cowgirl chuckled to herself and winced in pain, then focused back on the competitors around her. Leaning just over the makeshift barricade, Annie began to pick off people one by one.


A man in a wrestling mask let out a cry in pain, collapsing as a bullet ripped through his leg.


A woman in a tracksuit spun and fell to the ground, bleeding from a wound to the stomach.


A strange sound from behind Annie. A sudden shadow of someone that wasn't there before. The cowgirl rolled over, aiming at whatever had appeared behind her, but they were too fast. Her new opponent kicked away her rifle and grabbed her throat. He appeared to be a young man, with long black hair and pale skin. He was exceptionally well dressed, wearing a black cloak. As he smiled down at Annie, she could see he had fangs.

Fighter: Count Regenald Von Darros
Charyeok: Vampire

He pulled Annie close, and his eyes began to glow.
"Look into my eyes, darling- AWK?!" The Count was cut off as Annie grabbed his face. With her other hand, she let of of her rifle and drew the bowie knife on her belt.
"Let go of me, ya creep!" Annie yelled, stabbing the Count between his ribs. The Count threw Annie back down to the ground and stepped back, but Annie was pushing the offense. She lunged forward, tackling the count and taking him to the ground. She stabbed him again in the stomach as they rolled on the ground, and the Count yelled out in pain. Annie ended up on top, punching down at the Count's head.

There was another 'Poof!' and the Count disappeared into a cloud of smoke. Something small and black darted by Annie's head, and with a third 'Poof!' the vampire was behind Annie once again. There was a sharp pain in Annie's neck.
That son of a gun is biting me!
Annie grabbed the Count by his hair and jumped back to her feet, driving her shoulder into his face.
"You wanna wrassle?! Let's wrassle!" Annie yelled. Leaning forward, Annie grabbed the collar of the Count's cloak with her other hand and threw the vampire over her shoulder. He twisted himself mid-air, slipping out of cloak and landing on his feet light as a feather. The vampire's eyes glowed red, and a red energy surrounded his cloak. It wrapped itself tightly around Annie, trying to restrict his arms. Count Regenald wiped away the dirt on his clothes, licking his lips of the blood he had drained from Annie. Even with the small amount of blood he had drained from Annie, the stab wounds he had taken were already beginning to slow their bleeding.

"Muhahaha... Try as you might, my dear. Your blood empowers me, and none can escape my powers." Count Regenald laughed, then looked away and winced as he nursed his stab wounds. He looked back to Annie. "You would make a most useful thrall... And yet, because of these wounds you have inflicted, I must feast. And your blood has a most tantalizing flavor..."
With a loud tearing sound, Annie cut through the cloak with her bowie knife. She lunged the vampire, driving her knife into his chest and her knee into his stomach. He gasped in pain, and with a 'poof' he seemed to disappear. The same small, black thing attempted to dart by Annie's head, but this time Annie was ready for it. She snatched the object out of the air. It squeaked and squirmed in her hand, and Annie could see that it was a bat. After squirming for a few moments, it transformed back into the Count with a poof of smoke.

"Ack! Heh, heh... Come now my dear, let's not be rash-" The Count said.
"You bit me, you lunatic!" Annie snarled.
"Y-yes, yes, just look into my eyes my dear and I'll-"


The Count flew back 15 ft from Annie's punch to his face, slamming into cage of the arena. He sank to ground. The cowgirl took a moment to breath, then wiped the blood off her bowie knife and sheathed it. She picked up her rifle and crouched down behind the rubble she had taken position in before.
"Damn..." Annie muttered, checking the wound on her shoulder.


"Jeez, you alright Captain? The whole ship just got rocked."
"Someone just got punched through the ship."
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. Just give me a moment..."

A few moments after the woman Ryo had been fighting had been punched through the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge, the ship began to repair itself. Broken pieces of wood and nail flew up, and in less than a second the hole had been fixed. It appeared as though there had never been damage to the ship in the first place.


On the deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge, the samurai Gisei watched as Ryo's final attack sent the woman flying through the hull of the pirate ship. The samurai jumped over the side of the pirate ship, landing near to Ryo. Despite the fall being a good 25 or 35 ft, the samurai landed as soft as a feather on the ground. He began to walk towards Ryo and Isak calmly. His hands were on his katana, which was still sheathed, and at this point his dark blue kimono was soaked in blood. He stared through Ryo and Isak, his eyes cold and emotionless.


"Mary, is that crazy samurai guy gone?"
"Yeah, he's gone Captain. There's no one currently on the ship."
"Alright. Eric, give me a hand."

In the cargo hold of the Queen Anne's Revenge, there was a great deal of grunting and straining. The floor shifted, revealing a hidden trapdoor being pushed open from the inside. Working together, Henry Moody and Eric Leafson pushed their way out of the secret compartment. Three unconscious bodies lay in the cargo hold, one of them had been over the secret trapdoor. All three bearing slash wounds, with two of their right hands having been cut off. They had been defeated by the samurai Gisei.
"The good old smuggler's hold trick. Gotta say Captain, that was brilliant." Eric said as he climbed out of the compartment. Henry helped Mary out of the hold, and the three pirates stretched.
"Hey, you're going to have to thank Captain Solo for that. And don't thank me yet, the prelims aren't over yet." Captain Moody said. He quickly and quietly made his way over to the closest gun port, moving like a ghost through his own ship. Taking a collapsible telescope from inside his jacket, he extended it and looked through the gun port to survey the battlefield.
"Let's see who's left.... Mary, you take a look around too." Henry ordered.
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