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Beloved Sex Symbol

"Depends on whether or not you are done talking"

Her head moved to the side to watch him, that happy expression set upon her face. Had been a long time since she had let go and it was nice. Not that she minded being pressed up against him, sometimes though hormones began to rush forth and stir crazy feeling inside. She was a woman with primal needs. Call her bold or what ever but hell it was time to have some kind of fun with him.

Blue orbs held a look of mirth as she rolled against his side and raised her head to his own. And planted a kiss on the side of his cheek before wiggling back onto stable feet.
Cici sipped the hot coffee as she watched the two men fighting. “Keep his face pretty!” she yelled over to them. She smirked as she looked over at the woman. Tilting her head, her bright blue eyes looked over at the woman. Her blue eyes looked into her red colored ones. Smiling, she nodded. She slipped from the stool, and slowly made her way over to the coffee machine. She soon had another mug, and poured it full of coffee. Smiling, she slid over to her. “Well hun, welcome to SadistFaction. The woman in front of her seemed intriguing. “So, what brings you to this place?” she said as she sipped her own mug. She made her way back over to her stool, and let the coffee pot rest next to her so they could help themselves. “I am Cicily, one of the managers here at this place.” she said as she sipped the coffee. Pushing her hair from her face, she leaned with her elbows on the counter as she half kept her attention on the woman in front of her, and watched her fiance and the man who he was fighting with.

Combative Duelist

In a flashy step forward hustling like a final stand, Drixx pursued the counterattack already in too deep, to pull back. Dipping low with his scarf it's flow traced its user, projecting his force in the defense agaist the kick, upward.

But it's time was off, instead, raveling the ankle just above. Drixx saw this, and proceeded following with something else, just in the same manner, sliding to halt his body from colliding or moving too far out of range, yanking back hard on Bishop's entangled leg for closure. This reeled him slightly off balance, or should, and tug him a tad closer to the shinobi. As that other leg shot up for the super kick, he left one thing open.

As mentioned in earlier post, once Drixx was close, he released his hold on the scarf falling to the floor. Reeling in as Bishop went sky flying with a transitioned kick, his fist closest the man sprung straight forward in a blow directly under the nut sack.

Damn ......

Dangerous Businessman

OOC: You just ******** yourself dog. I promise you I didn't want to do this, but there is no way Bishop would let a nut check go without becoming mad enough for what's about to happen. Just don't die.

IC

B
ishop was so sure he was going to have this, and he would have too if his opponent hadn't released the grasp on the scarf a tad bit sooner with the notice of him moving up and his body shifting to a more horizontal position. As his foot was released after the execution of the next kick, it easily would move to go under himself to prepare for his landing. He didn't see what was happening in the transitioning moment as his right leg kicked the s**t out of Drixx's mohawk, swaying through it just as he would hear ""Keep his face pretty!"", and before that last word was heard, Bishop felt a pain he hadn't felt in a long while now, though he had felt it many many times before.

THWAP!!!

D
rixx's fist planted firmly into his family jewels. He could almost swear he felt one of his balls pop at impact, though he wouldn't be sure until they descended from his gut. Though that was the least of the worries for either of these men. Bishop ended up hitting the ground on his left side curling up a bit as his right hand grabbed himself and he grunted profusely in immense anger and even pain. Yeah Compound V was also known to raise one's pain threshold, and Bishop's was the highest of all that had a dose of that Compound V, but any man feel a ton of pain when hit in the balls.

This moment with Bishop on the floor left a brief moment for Drixx to soak in the ego boost, only to witness that he had not only made a strong move, a move that would break weaker men into nothing but vomit and tears, but he had made a move that was about to put him in a world of hurt. If he weren't in a world of advanced tech and magic, this would likely lead to a hospital visit if it didn't put his a** straight in a body bag. Drixx would first see Bishop's pale skin turning beet ******** red, he eyes still squeezed shut in protest as he grit his chrome teeth, still grunting though the grunt slowly turned more and more into what was more akin to growls.

His heartbeat began to raise even higher than it already was, the organ pushing itself over the top in excess of 400 beats per minute. The massive increase of of blood and adrnenaline spiked his Hyperkinesis as well as the limit the compound V had on his body, and placed them at their peaks. Every inch of muscle on Bishop's body would go from lean defined muscle, and his body would practically triple in bulk. His muscles seemed to be flexing, though he honestly couldn't be held to flexing or relaxing as his mind slipped further and further into the abyss of anger and pain fueling his rage. Veins popped out all over him, most dominant on his arms neck and even a big vein on his forehead. Suddenly, his eyes shot open, wide at that. Rolling over to place himself on hands and knees facing Drixx, Bishop would release a harsh roaring yell, akin to a barbaric battle cry. A bit of spit even fly from his mouth as he exploded into action, rushing Drixx in the short distance like linebacker.

If his home boy hadn't seen this side of Bishop before, he was about to witness it first hand. This was Bishop when a moment became so distressed for many varying reason, that he was pushed into an animal like berserker state. This was his Feral Mind. The pain he felt but a moment ago was something already long long forgotten, and the behemoth, this glutton of punishment, this monster was about to return the favor ten fold.

Feral Mind
User is able to tap into primal, unstoppable rage that allows them to perform in vastly increased capacity, taking and inflicting damage that they wouldn't in their normal state. In some cases, the user's mind descends so far into the feral rage that, mentally, they are little more than animals.

Due to Bishop unlocking his own Metahuman latent ability of Hyperkinesis, his pre-existing Compound V booster and his Intermittent Explosive disorder has pushed him to become a berserker in great times of stress. Though this rage mode doesn't boost him past his capabilities in anything but pain suppression, it does push all of his capabilities to their limits. This mode makes him incredibly dangerous, to himself and others. When enraged, Bishop lacks the ability to tell the difference between friend and foe. Meaning that it is best for his friends to just stay out of his way. He also fails to retain full memory of what happens when in this berserker state.

Combative Duelist

Unfortunately, Bishop ain't smell the coffee, like Drixx thought. That nut check surely woke his a**, and it took him almost to lose it, just so he came to realization that this, was reality. Drixx questioned their friendship, mentally, as Bishop fell over and on the hard floor. Was he truly a companion? Enraged in his own furry, lashing at a comrade was just not the thing to do.

Drixx huffed, exhaling air from his nostrils, the ***** ninja cursing himself for coming at this time. Backpedalling, scurrying across the dance floor before Bishop got up, was his next move. Silk tabi shuffled with ease, appearing to have glid in graceful, silent steps. From his flak jacket, tucked away by a thumb, spilled over a silver vial of highly flammable clear liquid in a line that began where Bishop fell, all the way nine feet to Drixx. Bending over the unspecified substance running a match to it, the liquid would be set ablaze in a stream of white flames once the Russian went sprinting that headed his way. The alarm systems powered on and sprinklers atop the ceiling went off spraying the entire floor. Luckily for Drixx, he didn't mind the rainfall and could use a refreshing mist. Not so lucky for his boy, it seemed the flames grew under the sprinkle effect. He'd get his a** chewed later no doubt, and would help reconstruct what was needed, but now, he had a fight to win.

Dangerous Businessman

Shit hitting the fan in 3...2...1..0. Drixx retreated faster than Bishop charged off at him in an explosive manner, though this didn't change his course of action. In fact he would make it just short of half way to Drixx when suddenly, a flame lit in front of him, and ran the same length behind him as it was in front of him. His stretched and torn clothing accenting his bulking body was a sight most would call a Baby Hulk. This wasn't a confirmed alias as of yet, but it was speculated in the underground. Those relentless white flames shot up between his legs, at first it was just hot and charring, though this went unnoticed like a bee sting to a bear. then s**t got real interesting. The emergency fire system turned on, the sprinklers raining fuel to the flame. As the flames grew with the water, no doubt the oxygen in it in such a small dose to an oil based flame. Not only did the flames grew, but they grew on Bishop in a flash combustion. It was a short ranged flame, but Bishop was in perfect range for it. And despite his Hyperkinesis, his judgement and mental processing sometimes suffered in this state of mind. That's why he wished he could control his Feral Mind, control his anger. This was a blessing and a curse at the same time. A double edge sword.

Bishop's tattered and stretched attire was lit a flame. The flame would have lit his hair on fire if he hadn't have kept it shorter recently compared to his old chin to mid neck length hair. Though what was fascinating about all this was Bishop's reaction. The intense flames would do their damage unhindered by anything he could do, in fact the only thing this did was make his condition and mental state worse. He roared in a vicious battle cry which may have been misleading. For he would raised up, arms spanned with open fists as he charge rapidly in a long legged stride. This got him a shorter distance faster, and made it easier to stop of change direction. But how? Ah yes, his Feral Mind would be exploited in this moment. Though it didn't save him from any damage, his body was on such a blood high, so high on rage, that he didn't feel barely a damn thing. It was hot and uncomfortable, but that's all the beast registered, his brain blocking it out. He would suffer for this later.

He was closing in on Drixx rapidly, he only had a brief moment to react before getting pummeled into oblivion.

Powerhouse

11,375 Points
  • Marathon 300
  • Brandisher 100
  • Partygoer 500
Drew Clark


He felt the lips plant on his cheek, and a rush of warmth run through his chest. He smirked, turning his head to slowly to pick the girl back on the uptake. He wasn't gonna take some paltry kiss on the cheek and be done with just that, or his name wasn't Drew Clark.

Drew clucked, pushing from the counter, before he leaned forwards. But there, right then, Drew felt a twang across the back of his awareness. His powers were rarely kept in check, and in the closed confines of the bar, the second he felt Bishop's mind explode, Drew stopped right there.

" Damn. Bishop don't 'ven realize he's goin' ta' cockblock. " Drew shook his head, and pushed the bottle into Ania's hands. He looked her in the eye, and almost considered not going out there. He almost didn't, so close. This chick was tipsy, ready to make a decision she would regret later on.

But, Drew couldn't.

" I'll be back. Sober upa bit 'fore I come back now, hear? " Drew rolled off of the counter, and took off running. His foot cocked back, and he kicked right against the lock. The doors buckled, and Drew was able to instantly see why Bishop had gone the ******** off. He limped a little. Nutshot. He was on ******** fire.

God damn, this Drixx dude went and ******** himself up. He had walked right into a world of pain, a world where he was gonna end up breathing out of a tube(and that was if he was able to nab one of those healing syringes!) for a few months. Drew steeld himself, and took off for Bishop.

Drew wasn't nearly as fast as the guy, and he didn't have pain pushing him further than he would have otherwise been able to go. But Drew was smart, and ******** crafty. Bishop had hulked the ******** out, so the Brit was gonna have to be careful.

He ran, and hopefully, timed it just right to shoulder tackle Bishop into one of the remaining tables. Drew would immediately roll over the crazy man, land on his feet, and push back up into a standing position. From what he knew of Bishop when he went feral, hulking out and relying on pure animal instinct, he was going to have to use almost every bit of his skill, and lock the guy down until he could breathe it out.

" Yo! Tzak! Chill yer ********' s**t! "

His earring would begin it's procedure of glowing like some crazy fire fly.


BrokenDollEyes

ImNoHero

Drixx Onyss

Beloved Sex Symbol

Blinking at the bottle thruster into palms a shrug was given before walking slowly out. Mindful of the fight that was ensuing in the bar. Feet carefully moved across the floor like a cat before coming to a rest besides the bar itself. Casting a glance from side to side sporting blonde that she had cone to befriend. It was always good to see a familiar face with in the confines of the club.

It was an amazing feet to actually if she thought about it, three men now scrapped in the middle of the room trying to subdue one another. Blue eyes flickered this way and that thankfully out of the bulls way. Lifting the bottle to her lips and taking a swig. The amber liquid washed down the back of the throat the numbness strong now that it didnt matter what she was going to drink. It would flow down smooth as can be!

"Cici my love how have you been?"

The question floated over the grunts of the males towards the blonde a smile set upon pretty lips
The warm cup of coffee was a treat to cradle in one hand as the Evil pondered how to answer the question of what her purpose was here at this time. One part of her wanted to purr 'pleasure' while the other just wanted to state 'business.' Yet there was the answer of both pleasure and business, a little mix for both sides and all, but that would draw more questions than she believed herself able to answer. The best answer seemed to be straightforward since that would put all her cards on the table with ease.

"I'm here to make things interesting," was the Evil's reply as she raised a finger to sink a wicked fang into the soft pad. Blood ran down her finger as she moved it to over the open cup, blood falling without restraint into the coffee before she dipped her finger in and swirled it. A soft crack of her jaws, triggering the enzymes her saliva as she lifted her finger from the coffee and gave the gash a slow lick. The enzymes worked quick, repairing the barrier of flesh while leaving the tissue beneath still injured but in the process of repair.

"Rakshasa...."
( prounounced 'Raw-kaw-shaw' )

"A pleasure to meet you...."

That's when things got interesting. A tremor upon the air, the increase of blood circulation, the rage that practically seethed around her. The Evil drank it in, siphoning off the emotions and anger while her jaws salivated in primal hunger. You can take a wolf out of the wild, but you can't take the wild out of the wolf, or so the saying went. Her garnet eyes snapped back to the two males, growling beneath her breath at the enlarged form of the Russian boss-man of SadistFaction as her Mara stirred in her blood. Fingers tensed, back arching upwards as she stood and turned. A black bladed dirk was tucked into her right boot, and she could feel the blade start to pulse in response to its Master's mood. Yet the meticulous Evil kept herself in check, she had a task to do and she wouldn't interfere.

Turning back to Cici, she noticed another woman had come to join them while another male rushed in to join the two fighters. Now it was a party and the Evil grinned, elongated fangs bared while her brilliant eyes smoldered.

"It seems things are interesting now..."

Combative Duelist

Firing a barrage of shuriken off at their fleeing, vulnerable backs had this been a real encounter between life and death. The dude hulking Bishop safely to the empty tables must of wanted to save the day, surely sparing Bishop more pain. Maybe best, coming to the rescue and all, the dance floor burning in flames as smoke began filling the air.

Drixx stood, like a hero amongst chaos and awe. In the middle of the dance floor while flames coursered his way, he kneeled right knee to the ground staring fearless with sapphires at the nearing stream. His left fingers latched around his wrist on his right hand, while digits spread to palm, like blasting away a ball of energy. Yet, a small segment of words would mutter from Drixx's mouth, an incantation of magical properties, and from within his hand a vacuum like abyss would emerge demonic like. Teeth, serrated and shark like opened the hand, it's depths total blackness ready to feed, preparing to sap and drain life. Holding his arm straight-forward, focused and channeling, pointing at the river, the meta's concentrated palm flared with obsidian aura like energy. A fire of blackness, outlining the hand would grow twice it's size, about a melon in width, and the lowly kneeled goth brows furrowed at this almost wincing.

The dark energy would drain him tiresome in the end, a powerful technique he forbid ever using.

It's suction like effect as strong as hurricane gusts, but in reverse, acted as a vacuum for unwanted energies and matter. The flames would suck into this abyss plane, like a pressurized window broke by force sending everything and its mother flying through black unknown, until the flowing river of flames no longer existed. Exstinguished. It took a matter of what felt a lifetime taking but seconds, nearly seared his clothes to crisps, but Drixx's resistant armor kept most attire in tact. Smoke and all trace of ever being a fire got vacuumed into the void, its matter assimilated in Drixx he'd later transfer into energy.

Lying flat, face slapping the floor as he dropped dead. Body motionless and fatigued, the spar would seem to have end, Drixx was K.O'd, unless Bishop went fighting a dead man. His clothes slightly singed at the top half, thin smokey black wisps floated from his unconscious body to the air and though his hands faced the floor, it's palm too was smoking, slowly closing the underworld plane, the mouth like image fading too it's presence sunk back in Drixx's hand, disappearing.
Without any more fires, the sprinklers would automatically shut off. Drixx lied centered on the dance floor, faint in state, tiresome in stamina, he was deep in sleep. A very, peaceful one however. Snoring.

The shinobi was still alive.

(I like this one better, feel like more character personality. More importantly, had fun writing it, even with the fight. Figured it was a good point to end it this way. Tried to make it reasonable too. It's a little choppy, I was rushing trying to get it all in. Hope ya like.

Dangerous Businessman

It was amazing how ignorant he was when in Feral Mind. His sensory abilities helped, but in an unfocused rage, it was useless. What all came to happen next for be a fortunate serious of events for all parties involved. Drixx threw some ninja stars at the raging bull, and in the knick of time, Drew tackled him away from the growing flames and put his a** right through a table. Rolling away with finesse was his best option. Bishopn didn't see him coming, and he would have seen him going, though Drixx was at work again, somehow sucking things into the palm of his hand like Miroku's WIND TUNNEL! The flames were completely washed away, vacuumed into oblivion without a trace. In this instance, Bishop himself stood against the hurrican forces, acclimated to the pressure and defiant of the force out of muscle memory as he came to stand with his feet planted firmly, his steel cleat boots gripping the wood as he leaned away from the force. The force itself wouldn't take him, but what kept him at bay and calmed him down almost too fast was the lack of oxygen in the moment of the vacuums occurrence.

By it's end, Bishop's body could be seen shrinking to it's normal appearance, no trace left of his previously hulking form, except for his stretched out and tattered cloths. The charring on some of the wood and his clothing, as well as soot and bruises painting his sweaty skin. He breathed heavily as his heart rate dramatically slowed down to a normal pace. He dropped to his knee, his right hand coming up and placing it on his chest over his aching heart. Suddenly, all the aching from the abuse endured would begin to set into him, the adrenaline leaving his body in a flush. His eye squeezed shut for a moment as he grit his teeth taking a deep breath. And then it happened, his head slightly tilted down, his gaze looking across the room at Drixx where he dropped on the ground quite dramatically. His face acquired a wide Cheshire grin, his narrowed hazel eyes making it all seem so sadistic. It brief moment passed before he started laughing, chuckling really. A clear display of his enjoyment, seeing as how nobody got hurt, not really. Boys will be boys right?

"Fawkin' p***y! Hahaha! Ya' lucky ya' punk a** passed out! I was 'bout t' go RAMBO in this mutha' ********'!"

F
ighting his aching body and his even more aching balls, he came to stand. He could still feel them up in his belly, he swore they were pushing on his lungs. His hands pushed off of his legs as his legs pushed into the ground. He laughed as he stood, fading into slow deep breath as he would both catch his breath and make it to the bar. His trademark Cheshire grin never left his face.

"Yo Drew! Run up t' the VIP Lounge an' a couple'o 'dem Med Shots form me yea'? I don' think I hurt him tha' bad but dose'im up and bring me the other."

H
e half asked, half commanded. Clearly unaware that he c**k blocked his boy. Then again, Bishop wouldn't feel bad or apologize. It was Drew's choice to step in. At least his inference off set the fight to it's swift end. So it wasn't a wasted effort. Sitting on a vacant bar stool, practically half naked, half smoked, battered and burned, Bishop's smiling and busted face looked to his fiance, an almost apologetic smile appearing on his face now. Looking to the other two at the bar, Bishop would nod his head up a little one as he greeted them.

"Welcome," He said to the newcomer, then looked to Ania as he addressed them both, "an' welcome back ladies! Tell me, are ya' sadistfied?"

A
clear pun in reference to enjoyment of the fight, while reflecting the clubs title in the name. This place was beginning to get busy again and he was both proud and excited about it. Though he needed to mingle with customers more often than he usually did, build rapport and get them to tell their friends about the place. Everybody loved booze, and everybody loved violence. And those that couldn't participate in violence, still loved to watch it. Something about the rush one gone while fighting, or even watching a fight.

Beloved Sex Symbol

Ania snickered at the pun that fell out of his battered face before tipping the bottle in his direction. Though opting not to actually speak her eyes turned to the new chick and gave the same nod. Least not be rude too people, hell she found out more often then not. People no matter if they gave off the creepy feel or not, could be good company.

Turning back to the bar itself a stupid happy grin spread across that pretty mouth again. picking the bottle back up and another swig taken. Life was pretty good till the front door opened up and a flash of red passed against her eyes. Only one person had that color of red. Tasha had once again tracked down the long forgotten sister. This time it was at some random ******** bar. Green orbs cast about the room taking in the bloody male sitting upon a throne like a king.

Huffing harshly the red head moved into the bar mindful of the people in it and made a bee line for a certain black haired beauty. The contrast between the two sisters was harshly apparent. Tasha held herself like their mother, too proud for her own good. Tall and slender like that of a dancer giving her little bust and a** like Ania. Skin not as moon pale but a healthy summers glow matching that fiery red hair which fell down her back in a rush of waves to the back of the knee. Once upon a time Ania held hair like that. Too much of a hassle to care for hence why it was cut to mid back. In all honestly had it nor been for similar facial structure one wouldn't be able to tell they were blood.

"Come too ruin another glorious evening?"

Ever the blunt one Ania tilted her head off to the side glancing at the choice of clothing that Tasha wore. An all too elegant golden top that hung too loose on the frame and a pair of white pants skin tight that ended above the knees. Sandles off all things graced elegant feet. " you know you're in a bar right? Not some kind of event back home?"

Another snicker as back learned against the counter of the bar, only response from the younger sibling was an eye narrowing glare. Ah so much fun having family here!

Powerhouse

11,375 Points
  • Marathon 300
  • Brandisher 100
  • Partygoer 500
Drew Clark


Drew gave a soft " 'tch. " under his breath. Bishop was able to calm down quickly enough, but knowing how unpredictable his boss was, Drew didn't approach immediately. He was calmed enough to merit Drew shutting off the glow to his earring; the light fizzled out like a match thrown into the water.

Finally, Drew dropped from the faux-boxer stance he had taken up. Bishop was back to normal, or at least normal enough to worry about his own wellbeing. At the mention of getting the other dude a needle too, Drew spit hard onto the bar floor.

" That ******** bleed. Lightin' s**t on fire, fawkin' asshat thinkin' he's s**t. " Drew began, eventually lowering his tone to mutter about the ninja laying out on the ground. Before walking to the stairs leading to the V.I.P. section, Drew stopped off right where Drixx had fallen.

He just looked like an a*****e.

Drew shrugged, before winding his way upstairs. A few moments later, and Drew popped down, two syringes and a length of rope in his hands.. He whistled at Bishop, and hefted one of the needles through the air. He knew the guy would catch it, even with how beat up he was at the moment. And this s**t'd help; even regenerative abilities were sometimes blown out of the water with the goop in those needles.

Drew wound his way across the bar floor, once again. Drixx was still out, snoring like some sorta broke a** lawnmower.

Drew showed every bit of disdain he could muster. What kinda ******** tried to light another dude on fire? Light his club on fire? It wasn't gonna slide. That kinda behavior was not gonna go unpunished if Drew had his damn way. Bishop might have known the dude, but Drew didn't. He never met the ********. He had no reason to know some wannabe naruto dropout with weird inuyasha references, and there was no reason for him to make friends like that. Especially if they went around lighting a man's buddy on fire, see? So he made a decision, and knew exactly how he was gonna use that rope.

Drew walked close, and lifted Drixx's hands. The rope went in between, around and then knotted. Drew did the same treatment to the feet, and after flipping Drixx on his belly, wrapped the remaining length around his neck.

A classic hog tie.

Drew hardly paid attention to Ania's sister arriving, or the girl herself reacting. Ania still had his booze, and that went forgotten, just as forgotten as the pipe still smoking on the bar counter. Instead, he slid a chair close by Drixx, and planted himself. Staring this dude down, Drew would pull the cap off the syringe, and a thoughtful look came over his face. He felt no remorse about tying the dude up; he tried to light Bishop and the bar up, even with his cool suction powers. Drew, Bishop, and probably a few others were soaking wet, and the bar floor would probably need to be replaced. Drew didn't know this man, and it left one ********' option in his mind.

He was gonna pay, either with coin, or with flesh. Best to heal him up, so the pain would be all the fresher if s**t came to s**t.

Drew picked a spot. He tore the material covering Drixx's shoulder, giving him plenty of room to work. He angled his head away, if he hadn't woken up just yet, and slid the needle into the thick artery lining his neck. Drew gave a pull, ensuring he hadn't gone to deep, and watched with an air of experience as a bit of blood filled the otherwise clear liquid in the syringe. A push, slowly, and the stuff would begin flowing right on in.

Drew pulled out when he was finished, and capped the needle again. He pushed it into his pocket, and drew out a pack of smokes. He took one, and lit it, pulling hard on the thin stick.

Drew tossed a glance up to Bishop, and crossed a leg. " Ya, Bishop! What'cha think we should do wit'his one? " Drew's voice came gruff, and with a long blow of smoke.


BrokenDollEyes

ImNoHero

Drixx Onyss
" Interesting, kinda wished you unleashed that beast in the cage. "

Darius witnessed the entirety of that brawl, lingering in the establishment via the table that was occupied in booze, drugs, and money. Women were on the menu, but could not be restricted to the sadist for twenty-four hours. The Russian initial impression was good, but nothing worth gawking at for submitting his a**. Things suddenly shifted after that performance, believing it was merely a case of both parties holding back their greatest weapons at the time. Puffing another shot of crystal into his lungs, a fog of smoke enveloped his area as he observed the regulars still. A few factors were coursing through his conscious, one being that invitation given with the lame sales pitch.


[Did not have the strength to really post, but this was a good time]

Combative Duelist

(Didn't actually mean, all that unnecessary damage to the place. Apologies.)

Sapphires widened and blunk lids, his neck grew sore where Drew shot the needle. Slowly, his faint figure slouching over the chair, was coming back to life. His trance like state, regaining consciousness, he could hear conversation between Bishop and the man, but words would sound jibberish to the drugged thug drooling down the mouth, his head rolling back and forth like a junky with his legs kicked out, flat like he was drunk. That s**t was, pretty good. The serum flowed through his veins at a remarkablepace, the numbness of pain felt like a rush of being the most high ever, a feeling Drixx was unsure he could get use to, but for time being, satisfied there was an easier way to get things in his body back functioning. Still, when his sensations started regaining itself, the Drixx cat did not get to moving, just yet, looking around the bar that nearly burned and soak damaged furniture unknowing he was the cause of chaos.

Last thing he remembered, he came to talk with Bishop. Everything else was foggy. His hand stung as he flipped it over, singed and burnt in its apex throbbing like pulsations. The smell of soot in the air was giving him a headache, too.

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