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Gaia's world martial artist tournament that pits the best fighters against one another for the title of Gaia's Best! 

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vodka sour

PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:20 pm


She fed him another strawberry after the first one, sticking one into her own mouth, biting down. Juices dripped out of her lips and her viper-pierced tongue snaked itself out quickly licking up the runaway juice before finishing chewing and smiled as the waiter brought back three beers and a large plate of chicken. She winked at him, Thanks, Handsome. Aila laughed softly as the man looked as if he'd faint.

Aila would then turn her head back to him, offering his hand an open beer, You'll get it when I'm done feeding you. She smiled at him and pulled off a large chunk of chicken, pushing it against his lips.
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:27 pm


"Wait, just a second. Not gonna need shoes for this... and you won't want those heels, either."

Rhoslyn made his way over to the side and took off his shoes, looking more relieved to be out of them than one would expect. He really didn't like shoes. In the meantime, the band, still playing whatever song they were doing before, were all exchanging frantic glances back and forth. It didn't take a genuis to realize that none of them knew any sort of music that was swing... and then, out of sheer dumb luck, the lead singer got his s**t together. As the song concluded, he spoke into the mike.

"Uh... coming up next... our cover of Jump Jive and Wail... after we get our stuff, erm... tuned."

Rhoslyn'd wait for Iru to follow his lead, then got back out on the dance floor and waited for her to get there. When she did, he'd grin, get them in position, and give a nod to the singer.

"Hit it."

The song started, and as it continued, Rhoslyn would show that he more than made up for his mediocrity in dancing with a hell of a lot of enthusiasm, which was pretty good for a West Coast swing. Or at least this narrator thought so, despite his not having danced for about two years.

Rhoslyn Vernal


Unfaithful Bliss

PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:30 pm


"Fair enou--- Oi, what the ******** was THAT!?" Something had been tossed across the room. Propelling with quick haste, just like a ninja star, and hit Michael right in the ear. Falling toward the floor almost immediately after. Michael stared down at it, and then tilted his head. Finally realizing what the packaged object was, and blushing furiously. Something about the object made it so desirable though, it wreaked of something magical, it was indeed lucky. As lucky as a condom could be. Michael reached down quickly, and grabbed the condom. Placing it on his thigh, and turning his attention back toward Aila.

That guy must think he's uh ninja.

Just in time. Another piece of chicken was shoved his way. Opening his mouth once it touched his skin, and taking it in his mouth. Just like all of the other food that had been given. This time though, he took it a little bit more feisty. Nipping at her giving hand, and barely touching it with his teeth. "You keep feeding me like this, and I might just propose." Michael said after swallowing. Aila was winning his heart, through his stomach.

Michael eventually casually took a sip from his beer.
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:39 pm


Rylen snickered when she brought up the fact that she did not want him getting a one-up on her. He trained extensively for the tournament and indeed picked up a few new powers for his efforts inspired by Robyn's own form of special abilities. Perhaps thanks to the fact that he did not gain his powers form a curse, Rylen was even able to refine and develop his powers further. He never had a knack for magic, but he found it had merely been for a lack of truly trying to focus.

"Well, in that case, I'm going to disappoint--" The half-wolf's ear flicked as he was cut off by the sound of distant gunfire. He cocked his head to the side and reflexively reached out to place his hand on Robyn's upper arm. He did not need a wolf's sense of hearing to hear the gunshots somewhere off in the hall, but to him they sounded almost as if the gun had only been twenty feet away.

He had tried his best to ignore the chaos erupting all around the room so long as none of it wandered to close to himself and Robyn, but it that was becoming increasingly difficult. Waiting for the first round was difficult enough, so Rylen was secretly looking for any excuse to flex his combative muscles before them.

But at the sound of Robyn's voice he looked back at her and felt the tension in his body eased. He noticed his hand lightly grazing her arm and he quickly drew it back as if touching a hot pan. He had done it without even thinking, and he only hoped it didn't send the wrong signal to Robyn. Come to think of it, he was not even sure what it meant himself, except that he had been ready to pull her out of harm's way at a moment's notice. Running his hand through the hair on the back of his head instead, he nodded at her about the brackets. He did not really mean to show it, but the thought of facing her in the first round was disconcerting.

"Easy win? For me and you." He replied, his crimson eyes burning with determination. He folded his arms across his chest defiantly and fixed a hard gaze on her. "I won't let you live it down if you lose in the first round, understand?"

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PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:39 pm



"You've got a point." IRu was probably going to move moving pretty quickly during that song. Those heels were not made for swing dancing. She followed him to the side and started to remove the heels. There were a couple of straps that she had to undo, but she managed to get them off. The cold ballroom floor felt so food against her feet. Those heels had started to bother her.

Once the hellish shoes came off, Iru set them against the wall before running to Ross. Iru looked towards the band as they hesitated to play their song. What kind of band didn't know any swing songs?

She began to impatiently tap her foot on the floor as she waited. Finally, they decided on a song. Iru smiled and stood in front of him. She said a silent prayer in hopes that she wouldn't be dropped during their dance.
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:40 pm


Aila laughed softly and shook her head and shouted back in the direction that the condom came from, I only like bare back, but thanks!! She turned back to Micheal and pursed her lips, looking down at the plate of just chicken. She put the plate on the table, Think you can feed yourself for a few minutes while I go grab some more fruit? Giving him a wink she pushed herself off of his lap and walked towards the tables.

Aila's legs needed to be stretched so she wanted to go and pick up some more of those strawberries. And maybe a few other treats covered in chocolate. She was a normal woman, with her love for chocolate. Finding the strawberries, she piled a plate. She also grabbed a few pieces of orange and banana covered in chocolate, adding them to the pile. Minutes later, she returned to Micheal's lap and sat down. Taking a bite out of a large strawberry, staring at him with her green eyes she gave him a fruit-stained smile.

vodka sour


Unfaithful Bliss

PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:50 pm


Michael nearly swallowed his tongue when she first spoke. Guess that condom wouldn't be used after all. Well, maybe it would be, it was lucky after all. How far could a lucky condom get him though? Maybe they would have intercourse, and he would win the Tournament. Anything was possible at this point in time."Of course." Michael responded, before nodding at her. Watching her pick herself up off of his lap, and walk toward the food. All the while, he was staring at her butt sway back and forth. Almost taunting him. Such torture. After awhile though, she returned, with a pile of more fruit. Yummy. Wrapping his right arm around her when she sat back down, and returning the smile she gave him.
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:55 pm


James ignored the vampire's attempts to bait him. They never would truly have an effect on the scion of flame. As much as KB would dislike the notion, he was small-fry compared to the monumental task that just appeared to James before him.

And no, it wasn't JUST Roen. The slayer would never give the devil the pleasure.

As James made it back into the ballroom and headed back to his seat, he fell into a sort of brooding trance, trying to take the events of the day, and to commit them to memory.

What was it that the Devil had tried to say to him before he ran again?

"I have no quarrel with you?"

No, no, it was a statement. The slayer's mind recalled the look of Roen's face. It was rage. Rage at knowing who James Eredas was, what, James Eredas was. The look of a wanted fugitive facing a sudden executioner.

"I have no quarrel with you!"

Words used by tyrants, madmen, and criminals since the dawn of time, trying to justify their actions to others. It brought forth a sudden recollection. James had been perusing some books one weary day when he came across a particular passage by a man named Martin Niemoller.

"First they came for the Communists, but I was not a Communist so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Socialists and the Trade Unionists, but I was neither, so I did not speak out.
Then they came for the Jews, but I was not a Jew so I did not speak out.
And when they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me."


... history always repeated itself, and only fools ignored history. James remembered the first kill he had ever made. For three days and nights he stalked a hellspawn, a shapeshiter who had preyed on defenseless young women, and even a couple, attacking them, consuming them.

He was so pathetic in defeat, James recalled, crumpled at the feet of the then-18 year old slayer.

"I have no quarrel with you!" he screamed in defiance. It was true. James did not know the victims personally. James was not an officer of the law. He had only talked to a few of the families and seen the bodies, or what was left.

His only reply was:

"You've had a quarrel with me since the day you existed."

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vodka sour

PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 10:55 pm


She laughed as she felt his body seize up from her words. Apparently he wasn't expecting that. She brought another strawberry to her mouth and chewed at it before bringing her lips to his, giving him a short kiss. She stood up and pulled at his tie, Come on, I want to dance. Her eyes stared hungrily at him, begging him to follow her.
PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 11:03 pm


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Oh? A woman had made herself visible, and already Barsait's interests were piqued to an all time high. The daughter of the infamous Roen, a maiden of this level? A pleasant surprise in so many ways, as his detailed eyes took in her pleasant refinement. A positive turn for the night for certain! Before he could begin to make her acquaintance however, nay, before he could speak nary a word..

Chaos, gunshots, screams and roars. Everything descended into hell, and though after a few chaotic minutes of various people crashing by Barsait's lost frame kept him from making prompt action even as security attempted to create a new if not shaky form of order. However, having been in too many riots to count, the [Artist] knew well the nature of such discourse. Throw enough wild-spirited men and women into the same room, and if hell breaks loose once, then it would come again in waves, each stronger and more intense, 'til all present were swallowed into its grim visage.

Murmurs and hesitant laughter echoed amongst guests as things returned to a forced normalcy, dancing resuming, music blaring strong. However, to place a mere sheet on a tuft of flames does not end its spread, rather it grows significantly. For once, in his many months of solitude and intense training that daunted the mind & body, Omi had a chance to relax, unwind, and enjoy. To think that some naive hit&run tactic fools would dare to try and interrupt this - what nerve!!

An unnerving shake. Vibrations flowing through from the very core of the lengthy-haired man's body, creating an expression never before so vividly detailed of rage wanting to emanate unto the heavens. To make a scene was impromptu at best, poor tastes at worst, and yet the longer he held the urge in the more intense his blood boiled. 'Til finally, like a geyser, all steam rifted to the surface.

[CRASH!!]

Onto the nearest wooden table separate from the food court, to the confusion of those nearest- [Omi Barsait] the infamous [Serpentine Manipulation Artist] stepped up in a single bound with a mixture of agility and brute force. Then, into the recovering atmosphere did his voice pierce once more, this time a bestial roar that would chill even the brazen and steeled to their bone. It was a malicious, eerie mixture of a masculine tone and an almost inhuman growl, filling the

"Th'next to disrupt this event with an ill will, I will squeeze your skull off your neck and crush between my fingers your filthy corpse, EVERY DAMNED
LAST PIECE!!"

Part of him was certainly thinking this through. The more opposition the less likely a counter-opposition would be formed 'less the prize was honestly worth it. No consequence if he had to be the one to initiate a show of force, it changed his reputation absolutely none. Yet.. part of him made those white, razor-sharp teeth hold a glint that suggested the first to see if this was a joke would be a smoldering corpse sans a skull melded to the floor with a screaming date.

Table-tilt forward and slide! Nimbly onto the carpet below, table rotated 90 degrees as a few nearby guests happily "danced" away from the man with fists that shook to their bone.

He lost his date amidst the confusion and she even seemed to be in harm's way, his enjoyment was perverted by buffoons, and his body once signaled for combat simply couldn't suppress the adrenaline flow. Couple the last point with his already well-known impatience with tournament security and their habit of showing up an hour after things were full of holes and dead, well here was the clincher:

His mind sought calm refuge. His fists on the contrary, sought an excuse.

The Haelstrom Fist


Lovely Longshot

PostPosted: Mon May 31, 2010 11:44 pm


Roen Jaeger


The fanatical jerking of Stella's neck would stop in lieu of Ever's gentle whisper into the Devil's ear, Roen's head twitching to the side as shivers crawled up his spine and and iced the smoldering rage in his chest. The smog in his lungs and the fire in his veins receded and in their stead would only be repulsion and regret, his hands immediately springing open and releasing the fae's neck. Frowning morosely, he would look away abashed and ashamed of his rage, now very much aware of himself and everyone else. One of his hands were broken, the other's palm was cut to shreds and had glass embedded in it, and his face was swelling up. Not only that; but his tail felt like it was on fire in lieu of the Dark Lord's servant's presence. And Stella. Poor poor Stella. And those reporters! Did they record and take pictures of what happened?

"Yes," Roen would say meekly and almost petulantly to Ever, hanging his head as he was led away. He'd have to apologize to Stella eventually, even if she spat in his face for what he had done. With melancholia descending upon him once again, he couldn't bare to look anyone in the face, and kept his head low and posture sunken, even as he was led to the stricken usher and pointed in the direction of the infirmary. Out the doors Roen went with Ever, with Rhoslyn's alarms no doubt ringing behind him and James left empty handed. All Roen wanted to do was go home, find a bottle, and drown himself in it.



Stella gasped as her neck was released from his grasp, sputtering and coughing desperately as she stumbled backward. She clumsily fumbled with the tuba around her, separating the instrument from her skin, letting it fall on the ground with a resounding clang.

The Seelie fae glared coldly at the back of the injured Devil as the seafarer escorted him to the infirmary. Any patrons of the ball directly around the fae would notice a breeze picking up... indoors. How peculiar.

Stella did not move, her makeup was smudged, and her glamour had faded. Her clothes were stained with both blood and alcohol. Her loose hair moved from the wind she'd created. The smooth, tanned skin of her neck had begun to bruise, the bright pink hue would inevitably turn a dark, disgusting purple in time.

She was injured, yet there was proof that in the short time he had not gone unmarred, either. Too bad the mariner had to insert herself and call the match a draw.

"Should we meet in the ring, Roen," Stella called after him once she had caught her breath, "It shall be the last summer you see. I promise you that."

Giving one last sneer of disapproval, the fae sat to rest at one of the abandoned barstools. Stella also took a glance at Ross from across the ballroom, grimacing. She wasn't proud of letting herself be weakened in front of an Unseelie fae. Regardless, there wasn't much she could do about it.

She grabbed a napkin from the bar, wiping the alcohol and streaked makeup off of her face. Stella inspected her injuries briefly, unwrapping her trademark pearls from her arms. They would need to be bandaged, as well as her neck. She decided she would check into the infirmary as soon as the brackets came out.

For now, she waited.
PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:13 am


[ Aside ]

Summerfae

She grabbed a napkin from the bar, wiping the alcohol and streaked makeup off of her face. Stella inspected her injuries briefly, unwrapping her trademark pearls from her arms. They would need to be bandaged, as well as her neck. She decided she would check into the infirmary as soon as the brackets came out.

For now, she waited.

The ballroom may have been spacious but when it came to the bar itself there was only so much length in it. A new arrival at the bar following the conclusion of a spectacle at center stage, least of all one who was bruised and bleeding, was not the type that goes so easily unnoticed.

"Excuse me for a moment," said the young man to the woman beside him as the commotion in the room started to die down to a dull roar; taking his leave from the conversation that they were having and instead gesturing for the bartender - a dreadful shame for something a boy so young to be getting into the habit of, I know - and leaned across the countertop on the tips of his toes so that he could be heard clearly without shouting.

A moment later the young man was a dozen feet further down the bar than he had been, with a crumpled wad of four or five cloth bar napkins clenched in his fist and a genuinely concerned look upon his face.

"That looks like it must hurt," Anson said as he stepped up beside the bruised fae. The boy's blue eyes gazed at her neck and followed down past her shoulder to the injuries on her arms as well, not having been able to see the extent of her wounds from where he had been standing before. "If you have a moment, I may be able to help."


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Nightsnow

PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:42 am


Chomp, chomp, chomp.

Placing the fifth plate down, the swordsman leisurely nibbled on the spoon placed in his mouth, the aftertaste of the strawberry sundae still fresh on his tongue. Tweaking the spoon around, the ball was definitely taking an interesting turn with the amount of violence and distraught people littering this place.

He scratched his chin in amusement.
PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 12:49 am


It was hard to believe that some time ago, all faeries hid from Gaians. To be seen meant punishment. To be caught meant death. But in time, Gaians had become more accepting and less threatening than their predecessors. It allowed the fae of both Seelie and Unseelie courts to live topside without constant cause for alarm. Nowadays, the fae could use their glamour openly, and even reveal their race to those around them. Stella loved to be a part of the Gaian's world of entertainment and danger.

However, even though fae lived in a modern world, their rules retained old traditions.

The fae turned curiously as a man approached her, bearing napkins. She sat in silence for a few moments, staring at the cloth and at her bleeding arms. Stella was nearly at fault for turning this entire ball upside-down, and this stranger was willing to help her? She seemed almost dumbfounded at the polar opposites of Gaians-- one wanted nothing more than to angrily throttle her, and the other was chivalrous beyond compare.

"I'd appreciate that," Stella finally murmured, then pushed back her sleeves and helped herself to one of Anson's napkins to dry up the blood. "Do you know where I can get some bandages?" she asked, with a small laugh. It'd take quite a few boxes of band-aids to patch her up.

At least if she could get her wounds covered, she could use her glamour again. That'd get her through the night, at best.

"The name's Stella," the fae introduced herself, politely. "And who are you?"

Lovely Longshot



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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 1:15 am


Summerfae
"Do you know where I can get some bandages?" she asked, with a small laugh.

The boy looked away almost with a look of embarrassment and a knowing smile, then raised up the handful of cloth napkins that he had brought along with him. It was not timidness at all that had made him turn away, but rather trying to hide the smirk her question had brought out involuntarily so as not to be rude.

"The bartender said it would be alright to tear a few of these to get your cuts covered up. Though if you don't have an objection, I could try to close those up right now. They..." he paused, craning his neck to the side slightly to look at the cuts from another angle as she was wiping away the blood on her arms, "...they don't look very deep. It shouldn't take long."


Summerfae
"The name's Stella," the fae introduced herself, politely. "And who are you?"

"An honor, Miss Stella," answered the young man formally. In turn he crossed his right arm over his chest and bowed to the fae before introducing himself as well.

"Anson Brent," the boy began, "Paladin of the Falician church."
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GTB IV [Concluded]

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