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 Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 8:24 pm
 VS.
 Located in an open-roof stadium is the ring where the first round fights will be taking place. The sound of wild cheering from the many fans that have congregated here fill the arena in a loud uproar as cameras zoom in on the action to broadcast the fights all over the world. The floor of the arena is a glossy hard floor with the logo of GTB painted in purple and pink upon the white sheen. Field Measurements: The fighting area is a perfect circle with a 50 yard diameter. The walls that keep the fighters away from the spectators are raised up to ten feet. Ten Count Boundary: The ten count begins whenever the fighter is knocked out of the bounds of the fighting area, such as into the spectator seats. The flying count out is also in effect, which means, if you stay above ground by your own will for more than ten seconds, you will be DQ'd. Fight Ends: After 11:59 PM on Jun 16th. That means when it becomes Jun 17th, fights are over.
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 10:08 am
The roar.
Yes, thats what brought the smile to the waiting beast in the ring. The pure enjoyment of listening to all those sick, twisted humans and creatures alike calling out for blood. As his lips curled to form a sick demon smile, the huge male started playing around with his metallic arms. The seven foot six male would lift and drop one arm, stopping it from a free fall as fast as he could, testing the strength and reaction time of the arms, they were working in perfect order, stopping on a dime.
After doing a few more tests with his arms he then began running in place for awhile, still waiting on who ever it was he was fighting to show up. He was getting a bit bored at the moment with all this waiting, eventhe cheers themselves were getting a bit annoying without the sound of breaking bones and ripping flesh to break the noise. All in all he was losing interest in this quickly.
He did however know he was working in perfect order, every part of his body was at one-hundred percent. But that was for nothing if there wasn't someone to use this metal to beat into the ground. The blue eyed, short red haired male was slowly getting tired. But less aboput his being bored and more about what he looked like if you missed it.
The man stands at seven foot six, he is a rather built man, weighing in at about four hundred pounds of just pure muscle and metal. His hair is short, red and thin. Eyes are a striking blue and lips are thin, seeming to reveal a set of teeth always in a demon smile. To explain a smile like his, picture someone about to rape you, now picture him smiling just before he does. That creepy smile like he knows he in control.
His clothing is a pair of fitting blue jeans, a black T-shirt and a pair of black combat boots. Other then that nothing else is notable on his body.
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 1:23 pm
The Darkened Devil, even in his most manic state, could not move the crowd the way Gideon did. Curly black hair, 6'2, near-forty, and even-tempered (something of an oddity considering his employer), Gideon bellowed his outrage as dozens upon dozens of Gaians stood around and gawked at the seven individuals walking through the stadium, overcoming GTB security for the chance to see the infamous Roen Jaeger. Taking up his rifle and chambering a round, the crowd would ease back in lieu of their impending deaths and make way for Gideon and the party he led, watching with a mixture of fascination and dread as the burly vanguard advanced.
"That's right," Gideon said in his low and gravelly voice as he held his index finger over the frame of his assault rifle, making sure he didn't ruin someone's day prematurely. "Unfortunately for you, this--" Gideon leveled his firearm, "makes me your God. And God wants five yards between him and his own. Move." Roen, turning his head to look at Bellanox, did his best to stifle a laugh as he whispered in her ear, "I love that man," before turning to look at the rest of his entourage. Three other soldiers, mute in their dispositions, likewise chambered their rifles and pointed at the crowd, two of them flanking Bellanox and Roen while the third brought up the rear. All three soldiers, including Gideon, wore modern black enameled plate armor with dark-red tints, all with the Devil's own variation of the DeSeer logo stamped on their breast-plates.
"Slack jawed idiots," Gideon would murmur to himself as he led the group into a corridor that led to the arena proper, lowering his assault rifle to his chest. After several minutes of walking with no conversation of note passing between the six, the group would finally emerge, holding their positions as the crowd of thousands took a single glance and went silent in the presence of the Devil and his Advocates. The roar, which was almost deafening before, was not but a murmur in the air as each and every individual took their time to come up with an appropriate response. In spite of this alarming silence however, Roen had eyes for only his towering opponent who stood in the center of the ring with patience most becoming.
"That's some tosser there," Gideon would say after a shrill whistle, going silent once Roen glared at him. "Leave the commentary to the announcers, Gideon." Muttering to himself after, the Devil would look away from his opponent and survey his surroundings. There was no ring side - only a ten foot barrier between the stands and the ring itself. Grunting, Roen gestured towards the wall at four different points, and instructed each of his soldiers to take standing positions at each spot. Bellanox, on the other hand, was instructed to stand right at the corridor leading into the arena. Once the Devil's honor guard was in place and holding steady, assault rifles held to their chests, Roen would step forth to the center of his arena and greet his opponent with a courteous nod.
"Good-afternoon, old boy," Roen would say in his most disarming tone, his deep baritone and rich timbre carrying throughout the stadium in its throes of silence. "Don't mind them--" Gesturing towards his soldiers, he'd carry on. "They're just here to watch." Raising his hand over his eyes and looking up at Alexander's face, the Devil would purse his lips. "Seer-damn, you're big." Laughing softly and stepping back, the Devil lifted his left hand and opened his sword-calloused finger-tips invitingly while murmuring, "Sword now, talk later," to the one who stole the World Splitter. If and when the sword was deposited in his hand, the fight would begin.
Author's note: Roen + World Splitter
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 5:55 pm
Something was spinning through the air as it fell from the sky, coming closer and closer to the ground within very dangerous proximity of Roen. It was a black sword-looking object that was threatening to cut the devil down where he stood. People gasped, wondering what the hell it was until... 
SHING!The glossy floor was struck instead of flesh. And thus, Roen's sword awaited him only a foot in front of his feet.
"I am only loaning the sword."The voice sounded like it was coming from everywhere, but it was only within Roen's mind, amplified to make it seem like she was speaking from every corner of the arena. "I have already cast a recall spell upon the blade. The entity inside stirred, but it did not take much to calm it with more blood...blood that you should have already casted onto its tongue months ago. If you want full ownership of your blade back...we will talk, indeed. Good luck."Then the voice went away. ----------------------------------------- Waiting at each gate of the arena were officers of the GPD department. They agreed with Midus to let Roen fight for this round, but after the fight was done, they were going to escort him into their custody for questioning upon the murder that happened last night. The suits stood there defiantly with their hands behind their backs as they stood and watched.
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 9:58 pm
"Yeah yeah..." Nox would reply to Roen's avowal of masculine affection for his gruff Sergent at arms, Gideon. But an amused smile and dramatic roll of her eyes robbed her sarcasm of it's usual sting as the leggy Gypsy accompanied the boss-man down to the 'ring'.
Unlike Roen's other minions, the purple haired Carpathian was not carrying an assault rifle. Instead she carried two high powered hand guns, affectionately referred to as Thing One, and Thing Two, holstered on crisscross gun belts worn over her skirt and slung low on her hips. Nor was she in a uniform of any kind. No, Nox was dressed for ease of movement, and summer. A closely tailored pinstriped vest and a short pleated skirt of the same pattern were more to her liking for the heat of the day. While mid-thigh stockings of a light cool knit kept the wearing of her over the knee boots more than bearable.
The roar of the crowd would assail her ears she walked to the ring beside Roen, Steel-shod boots clicking against the concrete of the entrance ramp as eyes of cool jade casually scanned the area around them. Hands, seemingly at ease, never strayed more than a few inches from her beloved weapons as they swung in opposition with her stride.
God how she hated the tournament setting. Indeed, she was quite relieved that she herself was not competing. In fact, she only took part in such events when conscripted by the boss. Such was not the case here. This time, she was at Roen's side as protection as well as support. Well... As much protection as a human girl with two guns and razor toed boots could be in a world of demons, devils and demi-gods.
At the bosses instruction, Nox remained at the very edge of the arena entrance with a clear view and an unobstructed path, should things go awry with anyone but Roen's assigned opponent. The boss was not the most well liked of the fighters here at the GTB. That being the case, Nox stood at the ready while Roen continued on to the ring, muttering.
Then....
A familiar looking object spun down from the sky, directly toward the unflinching Devil. Roen's reaction, or lack there of, told Nox that this was not something that the Devil had not expected. And so when the burnished blade of the World Splitter's tip sank effortlessly into the flooring at his feet she neither flinched nor jumped unnecessarily to his aid.
At least Roen had his sword back though in the back of Nox's mind she couldn't help but wonder... At what cost?
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 10:56 pm
After the events of the previous night, it had been firmly decided that she be very thoroughly disguised if she were to even leave the hotel in the first place. For the most part, she was content to watching the fights on the television, rooting for or against the few people she'd actually met at the ball in the lonesome privacy of her own room. For her father--and one other--however, she just couldn't sit idly by. It wasn't just that she longed to know something of her father's life, to be a part of that life--no, it was so much more than that. For all his faults, he was still her father and, in the deepest caves of her childish heart, her hero--she wanted to see him in action!
And so, she agreed to the disguise, if that was what it took to sway her father, Nox, and his guards that she could watch the fight. As anxious as she was, she'd promised to keep quiet, to do her best to remain as indiscreet as possible, and, unfortunately, that meant gray sweatpants and a hoodie--hood up, of course. As much of her body as possible was concealed by loose-fitting, baggy clothing, so much so that her tail could wrap about her waist and one leg without it looking too odd. With the first tell-tail feature taken care of, that left one more: the dead giveaway of her mis-matched eyes, left orb glistening of her dead mother while the right declared her infamous father. She wasn't terribly happy about the whole thing, but a small (very small) part of her rejoiced in this as one of the very, VERY few instances where her father's concern for his kin actually slipped through the cracks of what was otherwise communicated as a distant and cold barrier of annoyance and neglect.
It was all she could do to not jump in excitement when she saw the entourage emerge from the designated corridor, and then to not squirm in anguish when a glistening blur sliced through the air aimed directly at him. It had only been the first few minutes--not even!--of his fight, and already she thought she might faint from anxiety! It had certainly began to show in the clenching of her hands at her hoodie's sleeves, and in the bitting of her lip, but she somehow managed to keep herself from screaming and tearing through the bleachers to get as close to him as possible. Instead, she coped by closing her eyes behind her dark shades, focusing all her energies on a single thought, hoping that by some impossible miracle he'd be able to hear her plea.
I'm here for you, Dad. Please don't die.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 10:26 am
Alexander watched everything go down, he wasn't sure what but from the beginning where his new found enemy was just steps away from the arena to where he was standing infront of him, he felt this man, he felt his energy, his power.
"Ah, I was hopping to find a killer."
Alexander looked on his enemy with closed ams, saying what he did well this man still moved his way through the crowd, mean all around him. Folding his metallic arms he smiled, the grin getting bigger and more broken and twisted as this man got closer to him. His game was about to begin, and he personally couldn't wait.
In short this ended with the loud clanking of metal smacking against metal. Alexander was clapping like everything up to the point where he was greeted was one big show, something to ammuse him till he got to break this man. A brisk breeze blew in and tickled at Alexanders face, his eyes not closing at all, being what they were they didn't need to be wet or moist. His brain cycled through the many ways he could kill this man in simple hand to hand, but his grin was never bigger then when he saw that sword collide with the earth and he realized this fight just took to the heavens in a whole new light of worth his time.
"I like the toy, does it have a name?"
His scottish accent tickled the very words he spoke, making them sound like they were either missing an E or just not the same words all together. Thinking a bit back though he thought about the comment on his height and chuckled a bit.
"Don't worry lad, I am nothing but a big, big teddy bear. Now...come get a hug!"
He released his arms from their fold and spread his legs a bit, he held his hands up a bit the fingers spread wide open like a bear ready to attack. He wasn't an idiot, he took a low defensive stance ready for this man's more then likely bonus in either speed or strength.
No no, not ready for it...he welcomed it.
The metal arms he loved so much started to hum and grunt as they sprang to life, the systems in them starting to get all systems ready for a full on brawl, that might be, to the death.
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 10:27 am
((On a side note, I am sorry to anyone stuck waiting on me. I have to use the library and well an hour is not nearly enough time for two posts. ^^ Good luck though man.))
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Posted: Wed Jun 09, 2010 1:21 pm
Flinching as the World Splitter struck the ground, Roen would purse his lips to ward off a frown and approached his sword, extending his left hand to allow his roughened palm to slide over the pointed pommel. The weapon was on loan, much to the Devil's chagrin; but fortunately enough, there was a very good outlet for his frustration standing not a few feet from him. Sliding his left hand down the handle of the Daemon weapon and wrapping his sword-calloused finger tips around the wire-wrapped hilt, Roen would give a sharp tug and loose the weapon from the floor. The sword, so keen in its edge and masterful in design, gave a delighted peal as the air it cut glided over the flat of the blade and caused vibrations to run along its length.
"Sh," the Darkened Devil would say as he lifted his right hand and touched his fingertips to the runes running along the flat of the sword, stilling the vibrations and silencing the harmonious peal with a ginger touch. Ignoring his opponent for the time being, Roen would move the World Splitter to his side and test the weight of his sword in his left hand, bouncing the hilt on his palm and within his grip before tightening his hold and flourishing the weapon with a negligent flick of his wrist along his left flank. As always, the hand-and-a-half sword moved with ease in his hand, flowing through the flourish with a crisp snap that spoke volumes of the control and prowess its wielder possessed.
And once again, just as previous, that harmonic peal would emanate from the blade's vibrating length. Music to the Devil's ears, if any cared to ask. Flourishing the sword in the opposite direction, Roen's chest would rise and fall with a dramatic heave and release of air while he notched the tip of the World Splitter on the ground, silencing those peals of what he thought to be joy coming from his sword. His opponent, though ugly, at least had the civility to speech, and his words came to Roen like music as well, the man's accent most pleasing to the Darkened One. Barely into their tenure as opponents, and the Devil already liked this individual. "Hræðilegr," he would say finally, the name of his sword flowing from his lips as oily smooth as any other word he could possibly utter. "His name is Hræðilegr, and is known as 'Dreadful' or 'Horrible' in Common."
Watching his opponent take a ready stance, the Devil's customary frown would plaster itself on his face, and he would take a step away from the titan. Common sense dictated that he not throw himself into the fray and instead fight at a distance, capitalizing on mistakes his opponent might make such as over-extending himself or tripping himself up on his own feet. That said, however, it seemed the Scot wanted Roen to initiate first hostilities, and that was just fine, too. Raising his right hand and pointing his index finger at the titan, the Devil would begin conjuring up a spell to sling at the brute, his brows knitting together in concentration as he examined the distance between them, where he wanted his spell to detonate, et cetera. "You might want to move," Roen would say casually as he cocked his chin to look up and into the man's eyes, "because I'm going to set you on fire, old boy."
Charge: 1/1
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 5:07 pm
 And the crowd goes wild! "Al-ex! Al-ex! Al-ex! --- Al-ex! Al-ex! Al-ex! --- Al-ex! Al-ex! Al-ex!"
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Posted: Sun Jun 13, 2010 12:20 pm
Cricket..cricket-cricket.
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Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2010 11:52 am
As much as this kills my soul to do, do to personal problems I must forfit. Even if I was to win, I am moving soon, and that thought in mind I feel as though Roen should go one.
I am sorry Roen I couldn't give you the fight I wanted to, sadly the lack of internet at my home, moving and the fact I have some harsh s**t going on, I just can't at the moment.
I am sorry.
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Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2010 9:49 pm
The hooded girl in the stands hesitated, watching the event draw to a close, then quietly receded into the stands, slipping away from her seat before too many of the rest of the crowd got the hint and gave up on the match. She had to beat the rush to make sure she'd make a front-row appearance for her father...
She'd swiftly make her way through the halls below the stands, easily finding her way to the entryway her father's entourage had taken to access the arena. Unfortunately, a few fanatics had also taken to the sidelines of the hall, and some of the crowd as well, but she was thankfully lucky enough to squeeze into a spot right between two of the GTB security personnel--she would be quite visible to those walking down the hall, obscured only by the guards' outstretched arms.
But only a small and select group would recognize her. Roen, Nox, Gideon, and the rest of Roen's honor guard knew the outfit she was wearing--without that, the only ones who could possibly know were the rare few who both could sense auras and was familiar with hers.
Even if the event hadn't been a huge spectacle, and even if she couldn't run to his side and express her support, she made it a point to make sure he saw she was there. Any celebrations could wait until later, when it was safe...
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 10:52 pm
Within the arena, outside the ring, were a group of reporters. One of which was a clean shaved male with lightly spiked hair. He had his microphone ready for Roen. Rumors were abuzz, among other reasons for a Shinjiko Enterprises employee being on the scene.
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 11:00 pm
"Alexander has forfeit! Roen Jaeger advances!"
"BOOOOOO"
Immediately the crowd booed at the winner. Word of mouth had been spread since last night with the people finding out who was the cause of the tragedy that occurred at a city known as Puerto Diablo. A couple of months ago, the man that stood right there in the ring was the perpetrator behind the mass murder of an entire city using monstrosities shaped like sadistic harlequin babies. The scene was so graphic that it was hardly shown on public news. And now the suspect was revealed: Roen Jaeger. He was currently a Level A terrorist and wanted by many law enforcements around the world, one being the global Gaian Police Department.
Twenty suits diverged on Roen's location, surrounding him in a tight circle. Their hands were ready on their guns. One of them stepped forward, the superior of the group, who extended his hand out toward the fighter. The crowd began to cheer for his arrest, shouts of "CUFF HIM! CUFF HIM!" roaring through the large stadium.
"Lay down the sword and put your hands in the air," said the officer. "You're under arrest, Roen Jaeger for suspected murder and the mass murder of the city of Puerto Diablo. If you do not submit immediately, you will be shot."
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