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East City. Just another hole in the ground with its own host of diseases if one knew where to go. Even in a place with its own share of "upstanding public citizens", it was bound to have a blacker side. Loaded gambling, prostitution, and thuggery of all sorts were all common entertainment in the back alleys and byways of man's shining beacon of civilization. The city, like its siblings, also held a ring of pitfighting arenas, from the mundane to the extravagant, all brutal in the extreme. The road-weary wanderer found himself drawn to the havens of scum and villainy all the same, in need of zeni as much as a place to stay, and he was fresh out of both. Hood drawn up to keep attention off of his eyes, Fenris flowed through the throngs of foot traffic until he came to one of his more well-known haunts, which in point of fact was the largest pitfighting club among the Eastern Islands. It was known simply as "The Pit", as much for the lack of originality in its naming as the reputation of the fights that were carried out here. The door bouncer recognized him, some squirrelly-looking bitch he'd probably seen at some time or another, letting him pass with a simple jerk of her head and disgusted twist of her lip. Whatever.
Knowing his way well enough, Fen made his way to the back, where there were a few lockers, some showers, and an area cleaned with industrial-grade solvents that couldn't quite hide the scent of blood. He stowed his gear and checked in with the floor boss, noting the rather long list of names. Looked like they had quite the spectacle planned for tonight. The demon slunk back out into the crowd and watched a few fights that were ahead of him, feeling the crowd move like a living organism. Even though he knew that they would never truly be on his side, he couldn't help but be impressed that such cohesiveness could be attained.
His ki sense was alight, so many large powers mixed in with the everyday citizen that it made things slightly disorienting until he was used to it. One power, however, held his attention, but he could only sense the general direction and proximity instead of the actual individual, so packed was the place tonight. Ah well, there was no time to think on it as his own turn came up and his name announced. The crowd raised their voices in a loud cheer as Fenris doffed his jacket, light playing off the dark scar lines his body sported before he stepped into the ring and prepared himself.
"Look, kid. Maybe if you were on the arm of some rich prick I'd let you in, but a girl like obviously doesn't fit in a place like this. Go back to your daddy."
"If you're not going to let me in, I'm going to break you."
"You? A girl? Break me? Alright, come on then you bi-"
The wooden door explodes inward, a trail of blood left by the body flying through the room and coming to a halt only a step away from the ring. Her squirrel-like face turned into a crater of blood and bones. Noticeably her chest seems to be uncovered now as well, the tatters of a bra and vest ripped from her as she desperately draws breath. Her head taps against the ground, the barest remains of her eyes shifting closed as she does so.
Gently, the rude woman brings the remains of the bra and vest to her knuckle, wiping off the Squirrel girl's blood. Yawning slightly, casually tossing it aside. The eyes of the crowd, other guards and other guards fall upon the exit. A singular moment of silence passing, disbelief clear upon the faces of all.
Shaya stood in front of all. Hips swaying as she struts inside, her outfit reminiscent of Earth's own fashions. Styled like an armless Chinese cheongsam, it's white fabric, edged with black, practically see-through allowing the barest of sights of the brown skin beneath. Hugging her curves with no room for escape, outside of the huge cut that revealed the majority of the upperside of her breasts. Tthe back and front segments only connected through short black strings, however unlike most Cheongsam it however did not hug the legs as well, but ended much as a loincloth does, Along with this, she wore a little above elbow height gloves of the same fabric and color, along with her signature stockings.
Caring little for their glances, her gait never faltering as she bounces forward quite literally to the edge of the stage. Intent on watching from as close as she could get, even if that meant getting blood on her outfit. Stepping on the woman along the way, casually. Curiously wondering what sort of underclothing she was wearing that tore off in her hand, idly cupping her own chest in curiosity. Not caring much for the likely calls, shouts and otherwise that may come her way, although the deathly silence was only broken by someone whispering far off in the background, the manager quickly attempting to perform damage control for the door.
"When will this fight start already?" She inquires, looking over to the men in the pit, completely unaware of the demon's true power. Waiting for something to happen, her voice breaking the silence. Although her skirmish with the others on top of the Ex-Mountain had confirmed this planet's higher power levels... She still needed to scout it out further, but... Shaya didn't have high hopes for this "Pit fighting", if anything most of the ones around seemed less powerful than the Saiyans back on Vegeta...
Last Edit: Jan 1, 2016 17:37:21 GMT -5 by King of All
[WC: 646.] [Heavy Weights.] [PL: 26,426.] [PL with Weights: 6,605.] The sound of a running shower had broken the silence of the locker room. A lone man within the area, his body encased in a thick fog cast by the hot water washing against his muscled form. His hand raised and pressed firmly against the wall before him, fingers tensed up and tightened against it. His right hand by his stomach, and raised to his left shoulder. Gently massaging the area and loosening it for his fight. The Jaguar had found this club to be one of the more prime areas for releasing aggression. Both, in the form of brawling and other means similarly. The Saiyajin's nose just over the crease between arm and forearm, the elbow. His brows had been furrowed, as he had few things running in his head. What was he up against? Who was he up against? Would he be able to fair against it? After all, he had received more than few ass kickings he was on Earth. He fucking despised it. Literally, though he held a confident and smug look, he was boiling with rage whenever he was subject to taking a loss. Not a pretty sight, nope. An angry Saiyan was the opposite of what you wanted.
As the water ran and his mind was put at ease, as he saw something in the corner of his eye, the male raised his right brow. His lower lip sucked in and bit down upon by his front teeth. Something else crossed his mind. What was he going to gain out of bashing some random Human, or otherwise's, skull against concrete? But, at that same moment had he recalled his reward: Satisfaction, blood, his thirst for war and battle sated, et cetera. Pulling his hand from his back, Onio rubbed the right side of his back. Releasing tension somewhat easily as the hot water worked his magic. Loosening himself up for what was possibly in store for him, outside of the showers. Be it a brutal beating or a free victory and taste of blood and glory. He was more than ready at this point and was simply wasting time with the luxury presented to him at this moment. The Hunter's left hand had slid down from the wall down to the switch of the shower. Cutting the hot water off and allowing the fog to disperse. Revealing his nude form. Though, he was quickly covered up as a towel was slapped onto his waist. Drying himself off in a matter of seconds at most.
Onio's hands had snatched something from a hook. A blue bodysuit, it seemed. The spandex slapped onto his upper torso and lower body respectively. Boots coming onto his feet and his hands remaining bare. Bandages taking place of where his gloves normally would be. He felt smashing his knuckles into flesh while wearing bandage instead of gloves felt a thousand times more satisfying and better. The last bit of his clothing needed, was the heavyset torso armor he had begun to favor. The silver and black Saiyajin issue armor dropped unto his shoulders and his weight skyrocketing from it. He was almost used to having it on, but not quite as well as he'd hope. His mobility and physical strength was affected in some ways. He wasn't as fast but retained the strength of a god damned tank. The way it should be, one would say. A smile brought to Onio's face, the Saiyajin breathed in heavily before bringing his hand up to his neck and rubbing it gently. The male exiting the shower and locker room, and into the arena. His jaw clenched and eyes fierce. Fists clenched as he took in the arena. His opponent before him. A nod given as he sized him up. This ought be something fun. His excitement especially displayed from his wagging tail, the body part exposed.
For the first time in a long time, Fenris actually paused as his opponent stepped into the arena, ignoring the way the crowd had quieted a moment ago and zeroing in on his foe. At first glance, he would normally have just laughed. Blue spandex? Really? And who wore armor anymore? But his pit fighter's instinct, alongside his ki sense buzzing uncomfortably from such close proximity to a high power level, kept him from underestimating this man. The simian tail was also a dead giveaway. So not just a strong opponent, but a strong Saiyan. Great. No matter. He might be outmatched, but he would not give up simply out of the fear of what might be. His limits had to be tested, and it seemed that this was just going to be one of those days.
Best get to it, then, he decided. There was no starting bell, no referee to hold their hands and keep things civil. This was a no-holds-barred fight until one of the two was dead or unconscious, not some schoolyard slap match. The crowd jeered and roared for blood to be drawn, and with a cry of defiance, Fenris rushed forward to take the initiative. He had not bothered to suppress his ki, going full-bore from the start with a slicing kick aimed high at the chest... which felt like kicking a steel girder when he connected. Sure, he managed to follow through with the attack and get clear, but his ankle ached.
Fenris was far out of his league.
You can't win without me.
He grit his teeth, momentarily pausing as he struggled to decide whether or not he should use... that
Strength is power, and power is everything. You will not survive without me.
He knew that he was running the risk of losing, and hard. The price of improvement was always a baptism in pain, even if it was one that he would (normally) be glad to pay. But only if he truly had to. Things hadn't gone quite up shit creek yet, and he wasn't out of the fight just yet. The knowledge that this "fight" would inevitably reach such a point was pushed conveniently from the demon's mind. His mouth set into a grim, thin line of determination, Fenris drew ki into his fists before charging headlong back at the Saiyan and hammering relentlessly at his face.
[WC: 311] [A2] Jaguar Varried Assault attempted. Stamina: 1/3 The Saiyajin watched as his opponent seemed to be taken back a few pegs. His arms had been folded over one another. He couldn't feel Ki, but he could definitely feel the tension had risen. The jeering and roars of the crowd around them signifying things were truly about to become heated and incredible between the two. Onio's smirk had remained as he watched Fenris dart into him. He seemed to want to begin the fight with a simple roundhouse kick. Not bad, though unfortunate for him, Onio had raised his forearm. His powerful arm used as a defense mech. "Not today, pal. Try again." He taunted, watching as the devil jumped back and began another assault. A barrage of fists coming his way, specifically to his face. This wouldn't do. Onio's hands were raised, palms facing out. Guarding and slapping each fist from his way. However, his mode of defense failed in few ways. Examples primarily being his jaw forced back and his cheek smashed against. The knuckle of Fenris busting it open. Onio snarling from it. Raising his own fists, Onio waited for the second he was gotten off of. Swinging his fists over one another, the male roared.
"JAGAAAAAUR..VARRIED ASSAULT!!"
At that very moment, he released. Stepping forward, Onio quickly began an attempt at slashing at his foe with his elbows. A total of five slices before he'd twist his heels and make his chest face the side, and his left arm face his foe's direction. Acting as a machine gun, his fist shot at Fenris' face, throat and chest respectively. Like a bullet, his fist attacked these areas a grand total of twenty times before halting and fatigue falling over him for a mere second or so. A smirk returning to the Saiyajin's lips. He felt good already.
Fenris's body convulsed. A drum sounded from afar as he floated in darkness. Noise rose up and fell away like the tide. What was he doing here? He remembered the machine-gun blows striking him with vengeance born of fury, face, throat, and chest ringing with the impacts, and then.. Oh, right. He was up against the pit wall, cold concrete warming as it leached the heat from his body. His opponent stood on the other edge, smirking down at him.
This is not the end.
His vision cleared, senses making themselves known alongside the numerous welts forming on his body. He was slumped against the spot where wall met floor and creased together.
You are not dead.
The noise of the mob above crashed over him as fury rose in his chest.
I WILL NOT BACK DOWN!
His red eyes blazed into crimson fires as he reached for the power inherent in his very blood and grasped it. An outpouring of ki burst forth and writhed around the demon in a red aura, crushing the concrete around him into a deep crater. More ki filled his hands as he flowed to his feet like an eel, the miniature suns pressing against his fingers.
Roaring his defiance to the rafters, Fenris thrust both arms forward at the level of his chest... and unleashed a pair of basic ki blasts, rushing in behind them to take advantage of the feint with a double-fisted blow to the head that would send cracks to the very foundation of the city.
So what if he was outmatched? He was going to go down swinging.
[Demon Heart transformation activated! PL multiplied by 3 (10, 887)]
[WC: 250] [Stamina: 2/3] "Oh, he's fighting back. That's good." Onio said aloud, speaking to the crowd in a powerful voice. His eyes narrowing and taking in the sight of his opponent rising up to his feet and something changing about him. His stance, his power and all. His eyes returned back to their normal state as he began wondering what to do. Naturally, Onio's fists were back to being raised over his face. Readying himself for what was potentially to come. His eyes working swiftly to read the oncoming assault: Reading it for what it was so that his body could be properly prepared.
"I see you!" Onio shouted.
His hands quickly slicing each of the basic Ki blasts out of his face and deflecting him. The Saiyajin rewarded a perfect view of his opponent. Reeling his head back, the male smashed his skull against the fists directed to him. An awful, shooting pain sparking in his cranium. It hurt like a bitch, yet he toughed it out. Whatever he needed to do in order to look powerful and strong, right? It was his turn, and he took advantage even if he was outclassed by a mere thousand or so in power level. Hell, all he had to do was shed his armor and he'd be higher than his foe! Lunging into Fenris, the male instantly began a barrage of punches and kicks. Aiming to teach this poor sack of it a lesson when it came to fighting Saiyajins.
Pain. Lots of pain. Fenris was vaguely aware of his body getting tossed around the pit like a sack of meat. The fact that he was becoming bloodier with each blow only reinforced the image. By the time the barrage ended and he was left to recover on the sand, he was more bruises than muscle. Struggling to lift himself up as crimson leaked from his mouth and stained the gritty footing, Fenris looked over, one eye closed to keep the blood from blinding him (ironic, considering that it hampered his vision regardless) and glared insolently. Trust a Saiyajin to be over the top... He got to his knees, and then pushed painfully to his feet, the red aura around him flaring into existence again. Well, there was still one option left. Not likely to be a game-changer, but that was irrelevant.
The glare turned into a smirk, which in turn became a mirthless smile. There was a very real chance that Fenris wouldn't even be able to pull this off to begin with.
Nothing risked, nothing gained.
"Wanna see something cool?" the demon tossed out, feet spreading as his hands once more thrust forward at chest height. This time, however, he cupped them together. Ki flowed from his core and coalesced between his fingers, rapidly forming a tiny star that expanded until it pressed against his fingers. Not enough. He needed more time. Breath came more easily, but Fenris was still breathing hard as he drew as much ki as quickly as he was able. The question was, would the bastard take the bait?
[[B1] God Breaker: 1 Charge achieved]
Last Edit: Dec 29, 2015 19:43:38 GMT -5 by Deleted
Onio almost felt bad for the whelp. Here he was, being tossed around as if he was a mere toy. And, Onio knew a thing or two about being tossed around like a doll. Crossing his arms over one another and taking a knee, the Saiyajin's ears perked at the sound of opportunity. Something grand, he was told. Something incredible, something 'cool'. Well, that certainly piked the Saiyajin's fancy. Unfortunately for this one, he also piked his defense. No respectable fighter suddenly stopped and began acting foolish for the sheer hope of causing some kind of distraction. Such insolence was to be punished. Yes, Onio had began to charge something of his own. And, what harm could lead for making a weaker fellow feel better about themselves? Why, nothing of course. Not if he played a proper defense. Shrugging his shoulders, the male gave a nod. Speaking in a short grunt, "Show me." The worst that could happen was a mere scrape. And even then, he could shed his armor like it was but a mere jacket. "Show me what you have.."
The ki between his palms burgeoned forth, shimmering as it grew and and coalesced together. Crimson fire wreathed the devil's eyes as he kept his gaze locked on the Saiyajin's, glaring his spite. Not enough, still not enough ki. And that was just the start: ki would only take him so far. He needed power, of a magnitude that he had not yet achieved yet. There was one way he knew of, but it meant giving into the darkness he had long known dwelt deep inside of himself..
You need me. You cannot deny your very being. We are the same. What is the difference between scratching the surface to enhance your power or delving head-first?
He felt the incandescence of his energy caress his fingers and press against them, forcing them wider apart. Not yet. He was not ready just yet.
WC: 253. [M3] Jaguar Revolver second charge. Stamina: 2/3.
Rising to his feet, Onio turned his head. His arms were still folded and his gaze met the sight of a lovely woman. A rather large bust on her. He liked that. A lot. It reminded him of some of the more desirable, submissive women back on Vegeta. But, Onio couldn't get distracted. Not now, his foe looked like he was trying something. He was far too still and lacked any movement for a moment too long. It was strange. He was suspicious. His upper lip curved in curiosity. He could have played with him and broke his focus, but he was far more interested in the end game here.
This is odd. Its also very entertaining. He's clearly charging himself up. And I haven't stopped him. Clearly I'm trying to get killed, but god damn. It really makes me feel alive to see my prey squirm and get into a last resort style of attacking. If I plan my assault the right way...oh wait. If its a beam, I'll just duck, or sidestep. Fist, I'll take it head on. But..I'm not going to do that, am I? No. I'm not. I'm gonna take both and pretend it doesn't hurt. Damn Saiyan genes, I love them.
"You there! Woman! After I take victory, I want you!" Onio roared to Shaya. His brow arched and a confident smirk on him. He planned on taking this woman. Right after he took this fools life.
His opponent had taken the bait. If there was one thing a Saiyajin was good for, it was falling prey to anything that had the potential to stroke their ego. Hearing the other warrior's cry to a spectator in the stands above, Fenris was tempted to look, himself. But that would mean breaking his concentration and potentially losing all of the power he was staking his life on, and simply put that was something he couldn't afford right now. Let the arrogant do as they pleased; those who sought victory kept their eyes on it, prizes be damned, and the only thing Fenris was focused on was the bastard who stood opposite him, smug as a cat. The seconds dragged on, but he could feel the ki between his digits vibrating with exponential intensity. Finally, his hands were parted from the sheer amount of energy that he'd collected between them, holding every bit of power that he could draw forth.
And it still wasn't enough. For a Last Ditch Attempt, he was doing pathetically even by his own standards. How could Fenris hope to win if he couldn't even overcome his own limitations?
You know the answer. USE me. Stop pussyfooting around the issue like you're on eggshells and claim what your birth gave you.
He knew that there was more power within him, so much so that he would barely be able to keep his body together long enough to use it in a situation like this. And it was his only solution. His opponent simply had too much of an advantage with their power disparity. Snarling in internal defiance, Fenris closed his eyes momentarily.
This does not mean that I have given in!
There was no answer, but he could swear he heard laughter echoing in the depths of his mind. The warrior reached deep, deeper than he'd ever gone before to the very core of his being, finding every single black thing about himself that he abhorred... And the place where the power that he needed resided, somewhere out of his physical reach but still close enough for him to leach from. Black slices of energy crackled around the ki he'd collected, dark fire seeming to color his aura when his eyes snapped open and once again locked on those of his opponent. The orb between his hands surged outward, doubling, tripling, and then quadrupling in size, barely restrained by sheer willpower alone. The changes to his body from the rush of power were just as noticeable: veins stood out in stark relief all over his body, his once-lean musculature bulking up until he looked as though he'd gained over a hundred pounds in muscle (the tightness of his pants was actually rather uncomfortable). Most striking of all, though, were how his eyes contrasted against his aura, the red orbs quite literally glowing as though they'd been replaced by a pair of stars as black ki thrashed around him angrily.
With a final roar, Fenris unleashed his God Breaker, the beam blasting forth at his opponent like a ravenous beast after a carcass. Whether it took the Saiyan apart limb from limb, carried him along with it, or just disintegrated him entirely, the entire thing was far larger than either of them were tall, and easily capable of consuming the man in its hellish embrace, as well as causing massive damage to the city's infrastructure and surrounding region should he be successful.
WC: 575 (Total: 1, 835) [B1] God Breaker 3rd charge (attack PL 10, 887.): Fenris spreads his feet into a wide stance and thrusts his hands forward at chest level, channelling his ki through both arms to unleash a massive beam attack Makyo Powered activated! God Breaker PL multiplied by 4 (43, 548). 2/3 Stamina remaining
WC: 415 [M3] Jaguar Revolver released on 3rd charge. Stamina: 0/3
"I can take it...!"
Onio grunted, eyes locking onto the incoming beam of Ki. Its size incredible and greater than his own mass or height. Quite the outcome to leave such a frail person as this foe of his. Eyes searching for points of evasion and leave, Onio wondered as to how he'd survive this blow. Somehow, he would but it was a matter of nullifying the maximum amount of pain as possible. So that in the end, he'd have had taken a minimum of damage. Spreading his legs and taking a wide stance, the Saiyajin's arms were brought to his sides and held tight. No use in dodging. Taking it head on was the best choice here. Opening his mouth and releasing a guttural roar, Onio felt it.
An entire ocean of raw Ki washing over him. Burning him at the arms and whatever exposed limbs were there. His arms and face, mostly. Upon leave of the beam, smoke and steam rose off of the Saiyajin's body. Like a natural flame, it ascended and steamed. Onio standing up fully, and it had seemed as though he wasn't moved by it. No, he had stood his ground at the cost of more than a few bars of health. His legs had been singed, his bodysuit burnt and melted, exposing a boiling flesh. Panting almost heavily, Onio squeezed his right palm, making sure he could use it. Dropping to a knee, Onio was ready to unleash his own counter. A final move to really knock this whelp out of the competition. But, alas, he couldn't hold himself. As he fell to a knee, he grunted and felt his skin throbbing in utter shock and pain. He'd need a fast move to clock out and take a win. Nodding once to himself, Onio instantly launched into Fenris.
A Jagaur Kick coming his way, the male somersaulting into vicinity and his foot like a scythe that would slash at him like the reaper a grant total of three times. From there, Onio would aim to slash at Fenris' throat with his elbow, a grand five times in total. To finish, he'd jump up and aim to smash his elbow and knee, and sandwich his enemy's skull between the two. However, this plan was with a great fault. In such a weakened form, he could have easily been denied and countered. But, what were the odds of that..?
The sheer rush of of power was intoxicating, every single cell in Fenris's body singing in rapture as more ki than he had ever known existed utterly consumed his foe in castigating retribution. And drilled through the concrete wall behind him. And then went on to decimate the city's infrastructure, rupturing the entire power grid and destroying basic water and sewage systems. Earthquakes rocked the entire region, and The Pit itself was no exception, spiderwebbing with deep cracks all throughout the club as the ground bucked and shook tremulously. Fenris didn't care; he had started down the path, and damned if he wasn't going to see things through to completion even if his body came apart in the process. That was actually a very real possibility, given the difference in how much energy he usually used. He could feel his skin stretched tight over too much muscle, rippling from the raw amount of power using his body as a conduit; he worried that if he moved at all his flesh would split.
The demon kept the attack up as long as possible, seconds melting one into another until nearly a quarter-minute had passed and the thread of energy flagged. Desperate, he tried reaching deeper but grasped nothing. It was gone. The last of the ki expelled, the air vibrated and then stilled as it dissipated into nothing, Fenris's body literally deflating in almost comical fashion until he was his lean self once again and not some bulked-up roid monkey. The sensation of emptiness after having been filled nearly to overflowing was oddly unbearable, his sight becoming blurry as he wobbled on his feet and barely remained upright. Things went black for a moment, snapping back into focus as he regained control of his body.
Much to his disappointment, the Saiyajin had not been destroyed, or even incapacitated. Well, shit. That had been his trump card. If this bad boy could withstand that much punishment and still be in something of a fighting condition, then his proverbial goose was cooked. The counterattack was imminent, but luckily it looked like no energy would be forthcoming. A good old-fashioned round of fisticuffs it was, then. Fenris's mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution, anything that might give him the advantage he needed to come out on top. His opponent was stronger than him, faster than him, and tougher than him; could he weather the blows long enough to find his opening?
Turns out, Fenris didn't really have the time to wonder as he stopped the Saiyajin's opening kick with his face, his entire vision going white from the force of impact. More blows; one kick, two kicks that lifted him off his feet entirely. His throat constricted, fire burning as it in turn was assaulted and Fenris felt his body pirouette. One eye creaked open and he saw everything as if in slow-motion; the game-finishing attack coming his way, his body slowly coming into line for a dual knee/elbow combo that would finish things easily. The worst part wasn't that he could avoid it, but rather that he wouldn't even be able to get another hit off. But, maybe...
Gritting his teeth, both literally and figuratively, Fenris his fist and began swinging it up into one final, rebellious strike. He knew that he was done for, but either way he was going to try. His head was in position, eyes squeezing shut as his opponent's blows began to connect... and his own fist came up at the other man's groin.
WC: 133. Success. Victory had been secured at the awful price of loss. Yes, Onio had successfully assaulted his foe with a barrage of Jaguar inspired kicks and slashes, but at the very moment that he believed to be a KO, had his opponent made a awful comeback. Gritting his teeth, Onio launched himself off of his foe and tentively held his struck sac. Hands covering and rubbing it with the utmost care. Alas, as Fenris had been knocked out, or so it seemed, Onio had suffered a fate far worse than a fist to the nose. His balls had been assaulted! Oh, the irony! The pain! What a world! Onio thought, shaking his head and blocking all sound out. Whether he won or not, dude was in a serious loud of pain!
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