Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
Monster…
[]~O~[]

He absolutely [********] hated these people; their fake smiles, and obnoxious laughter. Every aspect of who they were, these Sigil-Natives, burned him like hot coals. Even what they called 'misery', those mongrels begging in the streets, left him feeling more angry than anything.

Not that Eric was ever -not- angry.

For months now he'd been "out of town", so to speak; traversing the planes to cash in some very specific debts, and make a few final payments. Freelance work left him plenty of freedom, sure...work as you wished...but his reputation for violence had tightened the proverbial noose around his resume. Not everyone wanted their business handled in blood, or signed in it.

Which, as the Savage Tiger smiled at the thought, was a shame.

Life had certainly been good to the former street fighter, and his muscular frame sported fresh new digs. He'd opted to play up his title; sporting orange, horizontal, stripes down his arms and legs. They'd been sewn into the material of his clothing, and favored a more natural look; which, of course, matched the ferocious hunting-cat that seemed as if it would come leaping from his back at any moment. Embroidered in silver, dripping, letters above that mighty predator was a single word...Savage.

Eric really liked his custom black-leather-jacket, and had paid good money for it; enjoying both the comfortable fit, and memories it evoked.

Old habits died hard, though, and he still complimented that particular item with his usual; a form-fitting, white, t-shirt that clearly displayed the musculature of his torso. Every step, every twist of his body, sending obvious ripples up the various tendons. That drew the eye down, where it would stop on a silvered-belt buckle in the shape of a tiger's head; silently roaring above the baggy, black cargo-style military fatigues that it held in place.

While his night-dark boots concealed the wrappings on his feet, a hint of them remained visible at the edge of Eric's sleeves; patches of dried blood still somewhat visible, albeit in varying states of age.

However, beyond all of that...more vivid, and terrible, than even his fast-growing reputation...were those golden-brown eyes. They burned bright, despite the shadow of his shaggy black hair, and drew the attention of -any- who dared hazard him a glance. Few did in these busy streets, but the rare passer-by who had?

They dared not linger long.

Truthfully, Eric had only come back to The City of Doors for -one- reason. Why he'd chosen to walk down main-street in the Market Ward, and make his return so...very...obvious.

He was here to finish what he started...

The Savage Tiger was going to kill Tresondros Ecstuffuan.

Tres Ecstuffuan

count_zantara

[ImNoHero]

Except, he'd have a slight detour along the way. You see, someone recognized him. Granted Eric may have been too focused to see him before he was tanding directly in front of him. In his path, but not trying to stop him from anything. He hadn't a clue why Eric was here, he just knew that seeing him again meant round two in his book. Dressed in what was best seen as a unique track suit was worn in simplicity. Sense getting healthy again, he was getting back to the basics. Fear had driven him to an extreme height. And through time and hard work in a different way, he managed to tone his frome back down to a more appropriate size. Fresh wraps hugged his fists from knuckles to half way up the forearm. His feet hugged by a pair of gently worn high top chucks, the black and white variety. If Eric didn't stop, he'd run into Jinsoku head on, whom was just standing there with a cheeky grin, fists balled in excitement as the Thaiger drew ever so closer.

The real wonder was how this would play out. Chances were, not well in any variation. Unless the situation diffused before it even became one. Not like he had a reason to follow Eric or to make him stop. He was to some degree, a friend, but more or less accurately, a rival. And a lot had changed since their first meeting. Jin went out fast and easy like a two dollar hoe last time. This time it'd be different, much different. The mild excitement to the Raiju within caused a minor distortion in the air. Static, causing the tiny hairs all over one's body to stand on end. They'd almost feel like there was a tingling aura formed to fit them. A warning of his true potential.

Slash Zinrai

Tres Ecstuffuan

count_zantara

[Spooky Mittens]

N is for Anywhere and Anytime at all!
Gustave awoke with a start as the sensation of being penetrated by a multitude of tendrils overwhelmed his body's desire to remain asleep. Bones being reset, wounds being sealed, that whole jazz. The pain for Gustave was intense because of his enhanced sense of touch. You see, while he could resist pain to a very high degree (having one had all of his skin ripped off and replaced by metal without anesthetic) Gustave was in a completely vulnerable state and thus unprepared.

Purely by reaction alone, Gustave would consume the sangrite that had formed within his lungs during his fight with Akshaya, his body surface now swelling with an arcane torrent of red and gold. Brilliant yellow flames would erupt from his mouth as he let out a pained scream in his low baritone. They did not simply form a jet, however, as these flames would fall over Gustave's form as if it were a blanket.

While one might expect flames to burn, these were not quite what one would call a true flame. It was not a plasma, as it were, but rather a gathering of arcane power that emulated flames. Warmth was what Gustave called it, and added to the effects of Bishopp's tampering, these flames would finish off the healing process while easing the pain off.

So laying there, wide-eyes and confused, Gustave took in the sight of Bishopp and caught the a** end of whatever it was he had just said. He thought about it for a moment, but it was very fuzzy. Perhaps he had received a concussion? The warmth would have taken care of that by now, but his memory was still a bit hazy. Last thing he remembered was moving in for a sweep, followed by a loud bang.

"She cheated. . ."

Gustave would say, grumpily, as he let himself fall limp on the rooftop. His eyepatch was still off, so he was careful to keep his left eye shut while he fished around in his belt for that particular garment.

"So who the ******** are you? And where the ******** am I?"

Gustave would ask. Ungrateful little p***k he may be, but he was confused and un-trusting. Who the hell just picks up a random stranger in the street like this?

Where At?: [bRubber n****e emporium?! Perfect.
Who With?: Bishopp.

DEADMAN BISHOPP

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
...Hurt you…
[]~O~[]

Step-by-step, Eric continued on; fully intending to run the other man over, and be on his way. He'd honestly forgotten the young fighter, but it shouldn't be taken personally.

The Tiger only remembered one of his victims.

While it was true that he hadn't killed Jinsoku either, he also had not attempted to. Back in those early days, parts of Eric's past self were still getting in the way; holding him back from embracing the all too vicious urges that controlled him now.

That said, something clicked in the Thai Brawler's head. Maybe it was a familiar scent, or something in the way that this guy stood...Self-assured? Hell-bent on having his throat ripped out? These things were one and the same to Suyaa...

But, he'd come to a stop all the same; fixing that dread gaze on Jinsoku, and allowing his hands to fall casually at his side.

"You look like you're about to be in a lot of pain..."

He was completely serious, and that made him sort of scary. There was no doubt in his voice, or sense of caring. Killing someone in the street? Didn't matter to Eric...He'd kill someone in front of their own mom, and then kick the old woman out a window.

At least, that was the impression he gave.

ImNoHero

[ImNoHero]

Thumbing his nose he snickered, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn't taunting or mocking his opponent, he was truly amused. Not that he though Eric wasn't capable of wrecking him, he had done it once before.

"You look like you already are."

He mentioned with mild concern. Jinsoku had his own rage, his own anger, pain, fear. Though he was no slave to it. Eric was consumed with this hatred, and the longer he sat with his heart seated in it, the less there was of a chance that he would bounce back. Uncrossing his arms he assumed a boxer's guard, traditional. He narrowed his charcoal eyes at Eric, knowing that he would easily become the aggressor, and keep it that way. However, he wasn't alone anymore, and with the help of the legendary Raiju, he might knock Eric down a few pegs yet.

"You look like you need to woosah, Eric Suyaa...In case you don't remember, I am Hayabusa, Jinsoku. That kid you knocked out in China Town a while back. Don't worry, I'll make sure I leave an impression this time!"

And with that he was in action. He charged two steps in before lunging into a left overhead punch, his legs bending beneath him as he crunched his core. The punch was simply a deterrent, hopefully baiting him to be kicked in the with both feet. It might not do a lot of damage, but his aim was to knock Eric back or flat on his a**. A simple opening statement. It didn't take long for the people around them to catch on to what they were doing . Thus they cleared roughly 10-15 foot circle around the two orientals...Well, one and a half.

"Ha! SOO!" ~

Battle Points: 5/50

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
...Hurt you…
[]~O~[]

Whatever.

Eric had tried to warn his overzealous...soon to be deceased...former opponent, and even as the vague outline of a memory teased the edges of his hazy mind the fight was on; the other warrior bringing a left-hand punch to bear from up high, and cruising in on the momentum of a lunge.

Let's make this quick...

A sharp intake of breath, followed by a blindingly fast shift of his feet, would see the Tiger set about his work; slightly back, even as he dipped his head under and around Jinsoku's fist to the right, and then Eric sprang back in. His arms popped up to the defensive, and both feet left the street...Transitioning into a brutal flying knee.

He'd deliver the hammer-like bow with his right leg; essentially aiming to impact on the lower-end his foe's left-hand, and defenseless, rib-cage.

"Htsssst!!"

It was a crushing, potentially fight-ending, blow; right out the gate. Slamming into one of Jinsoku's kidneys, his pancreas, and the lowest series of bones that wrapped them.

ImNoHero

[ImNoHero]

The timing and positioning of the two young men caused Jinsoku's double kick following his punch, to impact the rising knee of Eric. In which he kick off of into a back flip, just like he would have if he kick his belly. On the way up even higher, Jinsoku would transition into delivering a kick to Eric's chin. Then he'd hit the mid way point of the back flip, and begin to drop to the ground, where he would land in a three point stance. Again, the kick would lack the power needed to drop him out, though it'd be enough to detour him a brief moment, and alter his course.

Battle Point: 5/50 (+2 Recieved Hand to Hand Strike*)

Slash Zinrai

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
...Hurt you…
[]~O~[]

Not quite-so direct as he had initially expected; the attempted double-kick coming as somewhat of a surprise, with its back flip attendant flying just wide of the mark. Jinsoku's feet whistled past the Thai brawler's head, and then were gone...falling back to land in an action-packed crouch.

Eric was not-at-all amused.

He'd find the ground once again, and scuff his boots over the concrete; almost like he meant to remove some dirt from the treads, or something. His scowl parted for just a moment, long enough to extrude a line of spittle onto the street, and then bled into a growl that sounded like words.

"You're pretty good at falling, Jinsoku..."

The Tiger began to work the sleeves of his jacket, and then removed them; rolling his shoulders to fully escape the coat, before allowing the garment to slide to the end of his left hand. With the whole of his upper-torso made apparent, it was obvious that he had been genetically enhanced in some fashion; constructed in the image of what perfection might be...if men were as Gods.

"I imagine you've had a lot of practice."

More of the monster became manifest; the whole of his bloodied hand-wrappings, and the pair of spiked knuckle-dusters he kept clipped to his belt. Various scars could be seen upon either arm, and told unimaginable stories of pain...and surely death.

This was to be the boy's last chance...one more opportunity to see what he was fighting, and think better of his choices.

ImNoHero

[Sivak]

Tenkai Matsumoto

Almost seven minutes into the song Craosh decided the song needed to be modernized and his impromptu changes clashed with tradition in the form of drunken argument.

"Oi know Oi's roight. Eet needs moar hookers dats wot!"

"Nae, tha gold stands alone!"

"Heh, fluffy thing."

"No, I think you need the words foul and hairy to describe orcish hookers. Fluffy is far too mild."

"Dey may nevah shave but dey cheep!"

"Tell us more...."

-just assume here is an in-depth discussion of the qualities of orcish hoes between an orc with no sense of tact and two dwarves with a hair fetish. Rather than not be true to the nature of the npcs and in the sprit of not getting banhammered I ask you to just assume I wrote this out but didn't.-

"TO THA PROMISED LAND!"

And so went an orc, two dwarves, and an elf so disgusted by the prior conversation that he was far too out of it to realized he had been picked up by the trio and carried with them.

Sivak had slipped away from the group on sight of her target and moved through the bar. She did not perform any cool stealth moves that really only called attention to oneself. Her stride was in a word, bland. She was among the patrons and easily seen, however no real importance could be attached to her presence and she was ignored as easily as a blank wall.

Soon she was in position. And Sivak pounced.

Arms wrapped around her unsuspecting target and she immediately began to rub her face on the back of its neck.

"WHOOOSHA FLUFFAY BEAR! YESH YOO ARE! YESH YOO ARE!"

She was not sure why, but the booze was certain it was very important for the target to realize it was indeed a fluffy bear.

[Pandumb]

Sivak

And fluffy it was, indeed.

So much so that Sivak would practically sink half-way into the giant wall of fuzz that seemed to sit there as if it couldn't notice it was being cuddled. Hugs were as natural to a panda as breathing, and all it would do was manage to let out another bleat as it moved its mouth in a chewing motion, without actually chewing on anything at all.

The monk, Tenkai, acted like there was absolutely nothing wrong with this.

"Oh, hello there," said the well-mannered holy man, as if he wasn't speaking to someone who wasn't clearly a few fathoms deep inside her own tankard. "That was an astute observation. Kuroshiro is very fluffy bear." He would nod a few times between his words before taking another sip of his tea.

"I see that your guests have departed from your company," continued Tenkai, "You're welcome to sit here if you'd like."

It was probably not the smartest idea to randomly speak to drunk people like that, but Tenkai seemed too nice to possess much guile. At least not in the most overt sense, he didn't. Not that anything about him seemed normal for a person of his kind. Buddhist monks were widely known to be bald as a matter of rejecting the material world, yet Tenkai had a full head of hair tied into a ponytail. It didn't do much to go against the air of humility that seemed to come natural to Buddhists.

Meanwhile, the panda known as Kuroshiro did not seem bothered in the slightest by being hugged, though he also didn't seem to notice it as much as he should have. He was clearly a flesh-and-blood giant panda, but with the way he allowed himself to be squeezed, he might as well have been stuffed. As Tenkai spoke, he would arbitrarily suck up all of the tea in his cup in a single breath and then proceed to idly lick his paw.

"What is your name, miss?" asked the monk.

[ImNoHero]

"You're pretty quick at pulling the trigger, can't be good business with the ladies."

He teased as he rose to his feet properly again. Cracking his neck with a sharp turn of his head, Jinsoku rolled his shoulders a few times as he began to slide his feet, taking a stance. His feet came about shoulder's width apart, his right side leading naturally. Knees beantleft fist closed and tucked close to the stomach, his right fist open and placed before him as if ready to KARATE CHOP!

"You could say that, but my practice is for much more than petty fighting. I left the circuits behind...Even now I'm in training."

His eyes narrowed on him as he looked harder. He was sure Eric wasn't a demon, but something was different from when he met the guy. He was much darker in vibe. Rotten to the core. The question was why? And despite that answer, if he was a huge threat to many people directly, he would feel obligated to put him down. Such a thing wasn't clear though. He got mixed signals once Eric at least spoke to him. Hm, yes, speak. Perhaps that was the wise thing to do here....Abandoning his stance Jinsoku came to stand normal again.

"What about you Eric? You been practicing or something?"

Slash Zinrai

[SIash Ex]

[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!]
...Hurt you…
[]~O~[]

The Tiger would cut him a side-ways glance, as if perplexed.

"What...now you wanna talk?"

With an upward tug, Eric whipped his jacket into place over his left shoulder; retracting the arm, and allowing both hands to meet in a chorus of cracking joints. His fists massive, the knuckles protruding like spires of white against his darker skin. He was just like the predator that he claimed...always ready, and yet seemingly calm.

Those terrible, soul-burning, eyes never leaving Jinsoku's own.

ImNoHero

[ImNoHero]

Jinsoku shrugged. He'd keep charging unless he was sure this wasn't going to happen. He was a afraid of what could happen if they fought here and now, due to circumstances of why Eric was in Sigil. Though he did not fear Eric himself. Jinsoku had seen much worse than him, and he was aspiring to surpass all of that which was awesome enough to strike true fear into him. And to use his courage, his might, to protect those too weak to protect themselves. Eric had rage on his side, Jinsoku had Justice, Valor, Retribution. Sure he was strong, but only the one fighting for the right reasons would prevail. Or so he had been learning from James, and had seen James prove it first hand.

"You look like you need to talk. When's the last time you truly spoke to anyone? Like held a full conversation?

Battle Points: 8/50 (+1 Charge)

Slash Zinrai

[Not Roen]

Tres Ecstuffuan

______If Tres could find Roen, he would approach flanked by four uniformed Enforcers. He pointed accusingly at the devil with his crystalline left arm. His right snatched out as an emerald crack of lightning would streak into the palm of his right hand. In his grasp he would hold OGRANIX, the mind blade. It was a roiling bubbling thing part fire, part crystal, captured in a halo of neon green marking its laser sharp edge.

"What were you and him planning devil? By Ioun, I will have you in heaven forged chains for your part in this.", came the booming voice of Chairman Ecstuffuan.

The Great Absolute

Deus Ex Aizen

Red the Ambivalent

Lady Kama Succoboss

Lian Feaorne

Slash Zinrai

Tenkai Matsumoto

Fierach

Scalar Warfare

Count Zantara

Glory Sieg

"Threaten me again, and I'll forget how much I respect your father; I'll slay you where you stand."

Turning with glacial slowness, the Outsider faced Tresondros. After relative peace had been restored, Roen had taken the time to speak a command word for his wardrobe back home and conjured up an outfit for himself. Shin-plated boots, capped at the knee; britches; a belt with a steel-plated buckle; a shirt colored muted red; a long, durable stormcoat; a sheath for Hræðilegr, one he neglected to utilize. The psy-foci was in his hand, the many-eyes of the daemon faces carved into the hilt sparkling with force attuned gems. He looked fresh to the field, but weary. Beneath new clothes was an old-battered existence, strained and taut. There was much and more to be said of the tolls paid to utilize the amounts of magic and sorcery he had expended in service to Sigil. It was in this aspect that put the burr in Roen's pride, Tresondros' willful disregard of his contributions insulting. To say the Outsider was displeased would be an understatement beyond the scope of repair.

Raising a hand to hold off the Chairman's reply, Roen made a point to address him as earnestly as he could: eye-contact, body language the screamed attentiveness, an open expression. "Hear me three times, Tresondros; I will send you into the afterlife with your question unanswered. I swear on my name and power, I will do this thing if I feel threatened a second time." A pause; a gentle, wry smile tugging at the Outsider's grossly sensual mouth. "You're not nearly as attractive as your mother, Chairman," he said, kinder now. "I don't imagine I'll capitulate easily to your bondage ministrations." Then he shrugged, an indolent roll of his shoulders that said more of grace and power than any display of manly bravado. "So long as we are in agreement that I am a man of my word, I will tell you what I and the hated Godling had planned for the City of Doors."

"The Mage's Guild fell long before this catastrophe," Roen explained, gesturing around them with a lazy wave of Hræðilegr. "I confronted Ertai within. You see, the Mage's Guild was the most concentrated source of portals leading out into the Multiverse. Tampering with them would inevitably bring chaos and mayhem. Needless to say, I have a vested interest in the Multiverse, and had no desire to see them oblivion'd by a man who think's he's a God. So he and I came to an accord. Sigil staggers from misfortune to misfortune like a drunk looking for a home, Tresondros. It survives. I told Ertai that so long as he left the portals without tamper, I would leave him to his devices. He thought I was bluffing," the Outsider sniffed, rubbing his sword-arm. The fabric of his shirt and jacket clung to the limb, gummed to raw, bleeding skin where Roen's wards against the Immaterium melted away, sloughed off by the powers he wielded. Blood so black it could be called ink dripped, touching his hands and the lathed hilt of his sword.

Roen frowned at these things. "I came, I threw lightning at him, he ran. I imagine he has crawled beneath into a hole, trembling in fear of the disappointment he kindled within this devil. I don't think we're like to see him again for sometime." He drew his hand away, looked at it for blood seeping through his jacket, found none. The arm dropped. "That's it. Out of respect for your father, I have humbled myself and explained my actions. I will leave now. Perhaps to get a drink, maybe to wring Tenkai Matsomoto's neck, I've yet to decide, but I will be leaving, Tresondros. Unless you and your brave, intrepid friends have an objection or two." He paused, lowering the lids of his eyes in a slow, deliberate blink. He hadn't done it once since he had caught the Chairman's eye, not for the entirety of the explanation. He did it now, adding inflection to the pause, that terrible, muted silence lives hinged on.

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Not Roen

Roen frowned at these things. "I came, I threw lightning at him, he ran. I imagine he has crawled beneath into a hole, trembling in fear of the disappointment he kindled within this devil. I don't think we're like to see him again for sometime." He drew his hand away, looked at it for blood seeping through his jacket, found none. The arm dropped. "That's it. Out of respect for your father, I have humbled myself and explained my actions. I will leave now. Perhaps to get a drink, maybe to wring Tenkai Matsomoto's neck, I've yet to decide, but I will be leaving, Tresondros. Unless you and your brave, intrepid friends have an objection or two." He paused, lowering the lids of his eyes in a slow, deliberate blink. He hadn't done it once since he had caught the Chairman's eye, not for the entirety of the explanation. He did it now, adding inflection to the pause, that terrible, muted silence lives hinged on.

Near the Mages Guild

_______Tres scowled as he could feel the trepidation of the men at his back and the weariness in his own soul. He was tired and he could only imagine what the men whom had come so close to dying with him were feeling as their leader was about to lead them into another extremely dangerous confrontation. The psion himself did not know if he could actually take on Roen. The images of the warp tear and fell flames spouting from his brilliant force sword were still fresh in his mind. He listened to Roen's words, getting a better idea of what it is exactly that Ertai was doing here and why he had appeared at the Mages Guild. He thought of that strange possession that the Mage Guild leaders thought to lock away in their own cells along with his fellow Councilman Jace Rosharin.

_______It was part fear and part common sense that brought Tres to lower Ogranix to his side.

"Then leave. Get out of my city and do not return devil.", he said begrudgingly.

_______Tres wanted to fight, even if it would lead to his own demise as it was the nature of an Ecstuffuan, but for the sake of his duties and the lives of his men, he would not rush headlong at the devil. Tres brought his hand up, signaling a slow retreat. He and his men would begin to back away from the devil, physically giving him leave to move without the threat of being attacked.