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The setting...a train grave yard. It looked abandonned and devoid of all human life. The rusted and twisted frames of engines and frieght cars cluttered the expance of cement and cobblestone. The only sign of warmth were the few functional street lamps - on this cloudy night they were the only light source in the yard.

A man walked amidst the wreckage and decommissioned trains. He pulled a crumpled note from the pocket of his long coat and read from it. "Meet me here...yaddayaddayadda...I'm a woman. I'm hot. I have what you want...bring cookies."

Who the hell actually writes 'yaddayaddayadda' on a letter? Something really didn't seem right about this. It could be a trap - and he had no cookies.

Delven was of a lean figure, and stood at 5'9". He wore all black, except for a long white coat that came down to his knees, but down to his ankles on the left side and a red tie down his front. On his head he wore a tall, black hat, which was tipped downward so it's rim partially covered his eyes. On his nose sat dark sunglasses, which reflected the eerie orange light from the street lamps as he passed them by.

Delv stopped and looked around him, his dark red eyes scanning through the darkness.

Delven looked down in time to see the glowing butt of a cig roll past his feet. His eyes narrowed because at that very moment he knew who it was. Who else could it have been. Delven looked up at the shifting movement, and the sound of steel-toed boots on rusted metal. He frowned a little.

"Damnit Crim, I should've known. YOU ARE NOT CLOUD!" Taking a rock from the pocket of his coat he checks it at Crim's head. "Dodge this, poser!"

And so it begins.

Delv didn't expect the rock to hit - he would've been disappointed if it had. At least after all this time his reflexes hadn't dulled. Raising a hand Delv awkwardly scratched behind his neck. He shook his head and grinned. "It's not bad, but I've seen better costumes at conventions. Did you make that sword yourself?" He motioned toward the crumpled plastic thing on the ground with a gloved hand. "I would've gone for Sephiroth, but with that pink hair...probably wouldn't work."

His grin turned into a smirk.

Crouching atop a lamppost behind Crim, Kat closed her eyes as a rush of wind passed from the explosion, whipping around her orange hair. Suddenly grateful she'd followed the trapper, and not the victim, she smoothed out her black dress and watched the scene below. Her tail wrapped about her waist, she was counting on the bright light below her to blind anyone casually looking her way. But just to be on the safe side, she drew a Magnum from her bra and waited for the best time to enter the battle.

Crim` separated his legs a bit, his knees bending. He raised his arms, his left at his side bent at the elbow, hand relaxed and slightly open. His right hand was raised in front of him, elbow bent and hand open. He would step back on his left leg slightly, bending his knees more to allow a bit more balnce on his part, and attempting to grab Delve's right wrist mid-swing with his right hand, and quickly raising his left hand from his side. His left hand would jut out towards Delve's shirt, grabbing at it, and he'd shift his weight to his right so as to try and take advantage of Delve's momentum and send him into the ground at Crim's left side with minimal effort on his own part. It was supposed to be a simple defensive faceplant.

Crim`, if the 'attack' were successful, would simply bounce away a few feet aftwerward kind of like Muhamad Ali, looking down at Delve.

Crim` would stop moving, taking a defensive stance again. He narrowed his eyes, watching Delve but he heard the familiar and always-creepy swooshing noise of the demonic scarf. He crouched, quickly grabbed the handle of his knife and drew it downward from it's sheathe upon releasing the button that kept it secure with it's thin strap but also reached behind him with his left hand and quickly drew a throwing knife from a small holster at the back of his belt, throwing it at Delve's torso area while leaping to his left using the power he had built up in his legs.

He would avoid the scarf for now, but land some 6 feet left of where he was previously standing, first rolling on his back and ending up on one kneefacing Delve, leaving him a bit open but at the same time in a better position than he would have been in if he had been tripped up by the scarf.

The scarf doesn't react like it usually does to try to save its wearer, but continues snaking past Crim toward a train engine behind him. The scarf seems to have a plan of its own.

Being left to deal with the throwing knife on his own, Del's reflexes kicked in. His upper torso seemed to twist out of the way, and the knife sailed past. Delv watched, not really knowing what his own demonic scarf was up to. Figuring it knew what it was doing, Delv looked back at Crim and motioned a 'come here' with his fingers.

Meanwhile his scarf snaked inside one large, round tanker. Moments later an explostion again rocks the area as the scarf sets off a fire inside the gastank. Brilliant flames erupt, sending shrapnel and large engine parts at them.