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ImNoHero's avatar

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Bishop listend contently to Cici's opinions and suggestion. He would have to chit chat with the cow girl about her choice. Originally, he began fighting for a cause, and when the cause became pointless, he did it for survival. Past that point, he still fights for survival, though his life style had become acustomed to enjoying it as well. He was a sadomasochist at best. His back tattoo reading ACHERON was a testament to that. The River of Pain. He enjoyed giving the pain more than recieving it, though his extreme threshold for it made it tolerable enough to seem as if he liked it. Taking the fresh beer from Cici, he would lean in and kiss her tenderly before sipping from the premium Gaian Lager and enlightened her to his thoughts.

"Tha'd be a good idea. Have The Doc on stand by for the losers would be wise. But the winners of matches won' get patched up unless they break somethin or are in danger of bleedin' out. This tournament will be like chain fighting in a way."

H
e stood for a moment in thought, his eye looking to the table where Ushiko could be found. But before he could do anything about speaking with her, Raven had ordered a round for all, and Quan expressed his needing a drink. To hell with age! 18 year olds could get a drink here. The Russian Meta didn't card anyone. He was in this for the money. It wasn't his fault or problem if some young punk stepped in here and developed any kind of problem. Besides, he felt like if one was old enough to fight or go to jail, they were simply old enough to drink. If they were old enough to fight in wars, they were old enough to drink. The thug had been drinking since he was young himself. Something that passed down through his blood line. Russian and alcoholism just seemed to go together.

"A'ight! Looks like er'ybody is gettin' some free whiskey!"

S
natching up a fre bottles from the bar, he placed one with Quan and Raven with two shot glasses, he did the same for Jay and Hideo, and the thrid bottle was left to idle on the bar top for the other brawlers sitting around. If necessary he would supply more, but no more than Raven's money covered. One that note he would release the highest pitched whistle he could muster, not having his breath abilities anymore made this a lot less effective than before, but it snatched attention none the less. Once she looked up, Bishop would signal Ushiko to come see him behind the bar. Though as she approached he would dip into the kitchen, merely waiting for her to pass through the door before they would speak in private about her decision.

Cyberweasel89

fragile goodbyes
Cyberweasel89's avatar

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ImNoHero
User ImageUshiko was sitting with Hideo and Jay, who she still didn't know the name of, lost in thought. But then... a high-pitched sound hit her sensitive ears. They even perked on the sides of her head, her spine going straight at the sound of it.

It was a whistle.

Call it herding animal's instinct, but Ushiko was sensitive to the sound of mouth-made whistles. Turning, she saw it was coming from Mr. Bishop, her new boss.

Uh oh... Did she do something wrong? She hoped she wasn't fired, not after getting her first job since leaving Labyrinth City...

Standing up, Ushiko turned to Hideo and Jay.

"Um... P-Please excuse me." she mumbled, uneasy.

Her hooven feet clacking on the floor and her cowbell jingling faintly, Ushiko made her way over to Mr. Bishop, her hands clasped into a ball at her waist and her head angled downward slightly, a look in her eyes like a dog about to be scolded.

She really had no idea what this was about. She hadn't done anything wrong, had she? Nevertheless, she walked up to her new boss, following him into the kitchen when he made his move.

The kitchen was still a little... messy... from when she made her soup and tea. Just a half-full pot of the soup and a kettle of the tea resting on the stove and some common cooking ingredients sitting on the counters. She'd intended to clean it up, but she got distracted...

"Um... You... w-wanted to see me, Mr. Bishop, s-sir?" she squeaked.

Location: Bar
Mood: Dread
Thinking: What did I do? What did I do?
Wearing: Pictured + apron
ImNoHero's avatar

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Bishop's eyes watched Ushiko enter the kitchen. She resembled Dzul when Bishop told him 'bad dog'. Though he couldn't phathom why. Initially he would make sure he answered her question, though the pause for dramatic effect came when he stopped to ignite the end of a fresh cigarette. Today was one of those chain smoking days. Though he wasn't so stressed, anxiety was a factor.

"Yeah I did."

A
fter a reassuring drag, he inhaled deep. Sipping his beer before exhaling while speaking to the cow girl.

"So ya' think ya' got what it takes to throw down in the pit....Why do ya' wan'a compete in The Beatdown?"

F
irst he wanted to hear her explanation. Then once he knew she was sure this was what he wanted, he would take her down to the pit for a little spar, just to test out her capabilities and limits. In the process though he was already willing to give her a room in his mansion while she worked to get onto her feet. A job, a roof over her head, and basically volunteering to teach her to fight. He almost felt like he was adopting a child despite her older young age.

Cyberweasel89
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ImNoHero
User ImageUshiko sighed, relieved she wasn't in trouble.

Or... was she?

Was she not supposed to sign up for the Beatdown? Were employees not allowed?

Or... was he just doubting she had what it takes?

She'd understand if he did... She was short, petite, had skinny arms, large breasts, a round a**, and was clearly some kind of cow-creature, a species of animal that weren't known for their bravery. Ushiko especially was extremely shy and timid for a minotaur, a race that often sported headstrong personalites to make up for their comparison to a prey and livestock animal.

'Um... Well... Sir..."

She brought her hands to her waist, rubbing her palms together and gazing down at the ground, ashamed.

"I was... robbed... When I first arrived in Sigil, s-sir. A golem took everything, including my ball and chain. I only got away with the clothes on my back and the one hundred Gold I had... um... stashed away. I need the money for place to stay and some new clothes..."

She looked back up at Bishop's face, her eyes big and doe-like, even quivering in the light a bit.

"B... But I have what it takes to compete, I promise! I... have no formal training... b-but I'm really strong!"

She was hesitant to say exactly how strong, though... Mostly because she didn't know. She'd never really tested it before...

Location: Bar
Mood: Distressed
Thinking: I really want to be in the tournament...
Wearing: Pictured + apron
ImNoHero's avatar

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"Hmm...I see."

H
e merely commented as he made sure he knew what he was going to say before he said it. Meanwhile he hit his cigarette again and sipped his beer. With a light sigh he exhaled before speaking.

"Up until a few months ago, I had no formal trainin'. Though it neva' stopped me from beating the s**t outta' someone. Even when outmatched....I'll tell ya' what, until you get ya' s**t straight, you can stay wit' me an' Cici. Maybe I can teach ya' a thing or two....As for now, let's head down to the pit. I wan'a see what ya' got."

H
e somewhat mused even though he felt the vibe from her. The obvious intimidation he set onto her without meaning too. No doubt he would take it easy on her unless she proved to be much more of a challenge. Though the last thing he needed today was to get beat up by a girl. He had to be sure she wouldn't be wasting his or her own time with signing up. Even if she didn't go all the way, there was no way he would want her out in the first round. Without waiting on her reply however, he would turn his back to her and head out the other kitchen door that lead to the hallway with the bathrooms and the stairs. It wouldn't take long to get to the pit, and once there, he would take his time in removing his weapons, all of them. Setting them together on a set of the bleachers lining the wall, he proceeded to kick off his shoes as well as pull off his shirt, exposing his defined torso.

Now topless, anyone who saw him would be able to admire his full sleeve on his right arm, excluding what was covered by his fresh boxer's tape. The tattoo on his back in Olde English Ambigram font reading ACHERON. His left arm at the elbow held a nasty scar from where Dithakar had broken that limb in the tournament, and if it wasn't for his denim jeans, his left leg at the knee would have a similar scar from the same man for the same reason. His left forearm also had a strange spiral scar from a nasty burn that accented a whip leashing his arm from when he fought Sonia. The right side of his neck had a feint scar from where he was cut by Dzaek at Hell's Stride, along with a nasty scar on his chest cavity from the last fight where Dzaek almost killed him.

Being a parkour pro, complimented by his Compound V and his Hyperkinesis, Bishop took a running jump. His hand grasped the top of the cage as he pulled himself up, his feet touching the top of the cage as he would leap over it. Landing in a roll on the other side of it, he would place himself in the epicenter of the pit. Her he would merely stretch until Ushiko made it down. Despite not being extremely muscular, all the ink and scars would be like +10 to his intimidation factor. Though Ushiko would have to move past fear to have half a chance in hell at competing as a prize fighter. Even if she wasn't to make a career from it.

Cyberweasel89
[
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ImNoHero
User ImageA little confused at his lack of vocal cues, Ushiko would simply watch him as he turned to leave.

That was puzzling... He didn't say anything. Was he disappointed in her story?

Unless...

Her sensitive cow ears picked up Bishop's steps leading downstairs. Yeah, it was odd, but every person had their own unique footstep sound. And Ushiko was pretty good at identifying what sound belonged to who.

So did this mean... he wanted to test her?

Ushiko thought it over for a moment. Okay... Did she really stand a chance against Mr. Bishop, the man who opened a fight club that specialized in bare-handed, no-powers beat downs?

Well... She had to prove herself... so it was worth a shot.

The minotaur hurried down the stairs after him, her hooved feet clacking on each step and the cowbell around her neck jingling softly. She came downstairs to the pit just in time to see him disrobe.

...

And her nose promptly began leaking blood.

The girl brought her hands up to her nose, trying to stop the bleeding. Dammit... He was ripped, wasn't he? And those tattoos... It reminded her of the men in those magazines she kept hidden under her bed growing up...

Shaking her head to clear the thought, she stepped up to the cage chains, wondering how he got in. Probably jumped, but Ushiko wasn't a very good jumper.

Oh, there was a door. Silly her.

Hm... If she wanted to fight him properly... she'd need to lose a few things, too.

Ushiko pulled off her cowbell choker, knowing its jingling, though faint, would give her away. This was barehanded, so she also removed her wristbands, both falling to the floor with a thud.

Surprise! The wristbands Ushiko wore were actually bracers made of felt-covered chain mail. Useful for blocking blades, but not very useful against bullets or blunt attacks. She doubted they'd be of much use in this fight, so they'd just slow her down.

What else? She really wasn't wearing much else... Just a knee-length black skirt and a white tank top.

Oh! She was still wearing the apron from when she made the soup and tea. She shucked that off and tossed it just outside the cage along with her cowbell and bracers.

Okay... She was good, she hoped.

"Um... H-How do you want to begin this, Mr. Bishop, s-sir?" she asked, her hands clasped neatly at her waist in a very demure and ladylike pose.

Location: Kitchen -> Pit
Mood: Nervous
Thinking: Oh... the calm before the storm... >.<
Wearing: Pictured - cowbell and bracers
ImNoHero's avatar

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"Defend ya'self!"

H
e spoke more with excitement than volume as he brought his hands up into a boxer's guard. He lead with his right. Placing his feet about shoulder width apart, he would approach Ushiko with a steady pace. No rush. No worries. He had to take it easy on her as he gauged her capabilities. Though the thud of her bracelets surprised him, and the before mentioning of a heavy weapon, had him already thinking on just how strong she might be. He was careful not to underestimate. Once he reached striking distance, he would fire off a right jab, aiming for the center of her face. He planned on not making contact with the first punch, though he would learn her how to fight with this quick tutorial. Coaching her as they went through the motions.

Cyberweasel89
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ImNoHero
User ImageUshiko bent her knees a little, moving her hooved feet shoulder-width apart as she brought up her own fists, trying to mimic Mr. Bishop's pose.

He moved close, Ushiko just standing there, unsure what to do.

Then his right hook came out, and Ushiko recoiled in fright, covering her face.

Wow... she was inexperienced at best if she couldn't even read that his fight attack was a fake-out. Not to mention she reacted so timidly to it.

However...

Without skipping a beat, she brought her right arm back and fired a straight-forward punch at Bishop's chest, likely just out of reflex from her scare.

A full-power punch that would hit with approximately 88964.43256509234 newtons...

Or 100 tons of lifting power.

Yes, she was strong.

Location: Kitchen -> Pit
Mood: Nervous
Thinking: Oh... the calm before the storm... >.<
Wearing: Pictured - cowbell and bracers


((Short. Sorry. Had a long day.))
ImNoHero's avatar

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His jab, not a hook, his jab impacted her forearms as she blocked her face. His fist returned to it's respective guard, as it was before he punch. And now she was punching straight for his chest. As her arm extended, he pivoted to his left, rotating on his center of gravity with fluid grace as his right fist opened, his palm launching forth and smacking her fist down and further to her own right. With the threat removed his bent right arm would now aim to slam his elbow into her face. Should he succeed in hitting her with his elbow, he would release a guttural shout as his legs pushed him up off of the ground, his body torquing back to the right as his left fist launched in a fierce overhead punch, aimed for the center of Ushiko's pretty face. Just like the past two attacks he executed.

"rrRAHHH!"

Cyberweasel89
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Enzo Lord Of Ghost


The ℜ 𝖊 𝖛 𝖊 𝖓 𝖆 𝖓 𝖙 Guardian
"And as the Ascended One danced into Heaven, the Revenant Guardian returned..."
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"Pleasure to meet you Xiao-Quan. You know, those stones would make some poor Goat very happy. As for home and family, I can relate. I was exiled from my Kingdom, I suppose that's punishment enough. I now hail from...well, up there." At this, Raven indicated such a direction by pointing straight up, her personal metaphor for Heaven's realm. "For Bishop, I made promises not to use my ethereal abilities here. May have to do some training in the pit before this tournament is officially underway. I've got nothing to lose."

Raven reached over for the bottle of whiskey, uncapping the bottle, letting the liquor breathe before she tipped the nose, neck resting along the rim to load the shot glass with the silky amber beverage. She had become entirely relaxed, perhaps because she sought Bishop's approval and would not relax until it was certain she had it. She also knew that before too long, she'd retreat back to her stoic, laconic demeanor until it was time to take the first dosage of her XOK-4 serum. Life was too short in the mean time, and this notion gave her the will to offer an easy, relaxed smile. "There we are. A drink! To stones and dysfunctional families." Cocking her head back, Raven chose to forego her own shot glass and took a swing from the bottle itself. She knew she was in for a world of pain that she would have to build a tolerance for and she was already beyond committed.


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Ebag The II's avatar

Dapper Raider

ImNoHero
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As Bishop moved on, the guy from downstairs had made it to the bar, and as per request he sought Bishop out. With his trademark Cheshire grin displaying his chrome dentures, accented with a small diamond in each top jaw canine, Bishop chuckled lightly at the question. Though the fact that Makar referred to him as friend meant he wasn't here for a specific reason at all. Funny how fate saw fit to deliver people into one another's company.

"I wanna' know wher' ya' got tha' jacket bruh...No way Dzan gave it to ya'."

L
ittle did he know about Dzan being his father. Though there was still no way he got it from Dzan. The prince of blood was currently doing what he did best. And TFOA had been left in the junkyard to rot. He couldn't help but wonder if this really was his kid, and he wondered even more how much he had in common with his father. His attitude didn't even reflect the image cast by the Chaos stricken Cyberpunk. Regardless of his history with the front, to wear that jacket was power. And with great power came great responsibility. Did he have what it took to bring in the third generation of TFOA?

"Wha's ya' name bruh? Ya' kinda look like tha' crazy cyberpunk."

A
s he conversed, his hazel eyes couldn't help but survey the sign up sheet to the side of the bar, where his eyes bare witness to a women that almost killed him like five times in The Grand Tournament. Raven. He was surprised to see her in a place like this. Hell, the majority of their bout was cat and mouse, except the mouse was highly capable of using magic. He'd hoped she saw the part about no powers, and no weapons. Just two bodies scrapping on the dirt. He couldn't wait to get her down in the cage. Even though he wouldn't fight in the tournament he was hosting, he had to get her in an area she simply couldn't avoid him. It bothered him never truly being able to beat her, but only being able to not let her beat him....better yet to survive.


Ebag The II

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PIME TARADOX

Makar would continue to stare at the man for a few moments before smiling. A smile that Bishop would definitely have been able to see on the face of Dzan Streea. This smile would convey only one message. Dzan didn't hand anything off to the son. Warp, the father didn't even believe that the son was on planet and he'd shrug before he'd speak. He spoke with a slight accent that hinted at the hives just like Dzan's but his was proper. Almost royal like with how he spoke.

"Makar. Makar Streea. New head of The Front of Armament at your service, m'friend. Dzan didn't give it to me, the grox-reaming gakker was gone by the time I showed my face. No, I earned it off of James as men switched sides and backed me to be the head of the latest generation." He'd pull the lho-stick from his lips as he stepped forward getting closer to Bishop. Bishop wouldn't be intimidated, but it would speak volumes. This was still The Front he'd be dealing with.

"But we are still The Front and the rumor is the Styx reside around this area. I'm showing face to prove that we're not dead, but we'll be heading in a new direction. By the way you hold yourself you're either vice or head. Thus, you know the rules we live by. They haven't changed, but we are a stronger brotherhood than before, m'friend." He'd pause for a second and take a nice long drag of the lho-stick before backing up one step and running fingers through the greased back hair. "Now what is it I call you?"
New Day.

Eyes shifting over the horizon as he returned his gaze to the door. Pushing the hinged wooden plank open with the toe of his boot as he passed his physical being through the gap. Standing just outside the radius of the door as it closed behind him, arms hanging to both sides. Advancing towards the bar where the tournament sign up sheet lay, Extending his arm as he adjusted the paper and read over the writing, its title in bold.

"Hmm."

Leaning on an elbow as he overlooked the elongation of the bar, overlapping his left over his right while balancing on his elbow. Huffing as he hesitated to grab the pen. To sign up or not...is the question

he thought.
ImNoHero's avatar

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PIME TARADOX!

B
ishop couldn't believe how much unlike his father Makar was. But then again, he could. Without Chaos to influence him, he had free will. As he spoke though he could help but notice the name James. Another guy he hadn't heard of. Neither of these two knew s**t about TFOA in Bishop's eyes. And as a two generation defector, he felt obligated to play a part in this. He wouldn't run with the front again per say, though he was cool with TFOA and TRS affiliating since he didn't crave their turf and techinically, TRS' turf was where ever they stood at the moment. Like right now, it was this club. Unlike The Front, they had no jackets or a crest, though exclusive to the few Communist in The River Styx, they also dubbed it The Red Scare, a star formed out of one's hands sufficed as a proper gang hand sign as seen made by Bishop in the past.

"I am called Bishop, and I am the head of TRS. Back in the day I ran wit' the front, first and second generation. Brought a soldier or two in m'self."

T
he first one to mind was the little pup Jericho. Though thinking of him was disappointing, the kid was still a p***y. Hearing the major differences in The Front from then to now made him all the more interested. Though as a previous member, it might do Makar good to have an old friend with knowledge of the entire history.

"Ya' pops and me had a nice little rivalry for a while...But you seem like good peoples. What would ya' say if I told ya' I'd be down wit' affiliating cliques? Help each otha' out in times of need, kick it 'cause we can. Two brotherhoods, makin' one bigger brotherhood."

Ebag The II
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Jay was not far away, having crashed out in the bar after cleaning herself up properly. It was strange how her body felt renewed and the broken nose healed aside from some slight bruising. That soup really worked, a shame she wasn't a huge fan of chicken.
Stretching out along the length of the couch she had made her bed her natural brown eyes settled on a familiar figure walking through the doors. He was back. Well that was a pleasant surprise, yawning as she slipped off the makeshift bed and began to sneak over in her socks.

Jay had managed to sneak back to her flat with the aid of Skittles of course and pick up some gear, deciding she would stay at the bar for a few days in order to train and get used to everything again.
So donned in an over sized shirt, plain black of course, and some sleeping shorts which were barely visible due to her short frame being drowned in the shirt. forgetting to put the silver contacts in Hideo would be graced with her wondrous dark brown doe eyes gazing at him with that childish smirk plastered to her face.

"Soooo.... Fancy seeing you again so soon. Entering?"

By this point she was on the tips of her toes with her arms folded on top of the bar to hold herself up. Being at a whopping 5'4" really made life difficult sometimes...Especially since she was dwarfed by Hideo's impressive height.
Standing back as his eyes cascaded the shortened figure that stood below him. That voice resonating to match a familiar voice, Jay. Twirling the pen between each finger then bringing it back in the same manner as he smirked before replying.

"What is it to you if I am?"

Until the twirl of the pen stopped in the palm of his hand. Waving the bartender for a drink as he hunched over the bar to place his order...One pint of their seasonal ale, that seemed to tickle his taste. The pen would smash beneath the pressure of his left hand from leaning over, bringing his figure back to face Jay in preparation for her answer.

Noticing the altered attire, as he glanced at her socks. From this he would note any possible nook she might have crawled out of with a seemingly unharmed face. The soup did work, thought checking the pain he hadn't felt in his ribs since the morning. Though the phantom pains never faded, lingering just as its name implies.

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