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 Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 2:34 pm
Life so seldom goes the way we plan it. 
A blood choke differed from an air choke in that it could be executed in seconds where as an air choke could take minutes. Certainly a more efficient stranglehold, it was employable by smaller fighters as well as larger fighters because it actually to the contrast of popular misconception doesn't require much force. Simply properly applied force.
However, when trying to break Deitric's grip on Omi, he was also maneuvering the weakened hands by the slightest amount, lessening the points pressed down just a tiny, tiny bit. While a blood choke was certainly more efficient, it was actually less dangerous than an air choke unless persisted for too long after the point of standard unconsciousness, simply because as soon as blood flow returns, the effects if not reaching their intended conclusion were quickly averted - aside from a feeling of general weakness in the limbs associated with standard blood loss, which is what one would feel like.
Id est..
"JOCASTTTTAAAAA~~~!!!!!"
..yes, Omi was quite the b*****d when he wished to be. Faking unconsciousness for the sake of a high-stakes bluff, his efforts awarded him precious seconds longer consciousness than the normal 6~12 second frame. Fortunately, he also suspected Deitric to be learned enough to know the average time-frame to render an individual unconscious and abide by it.
Head up, upper-back up, right palm on the dance floor and left hand waving tauntingly, the entire crowd would no doubt gasp at the serpent with a ghost-pale face and blurred vision quickly regaining sharpness laughing himself to the papers. He had waited until Deitric was at the platform's edge to make his triumphant "return," to get as many precious seconds of blood flow as possible back.
"Git'.." A spurting cough. "GET BACK damn it, fight's not half out of me yet."
Bold words from the man sitting up as though peeling himself off the floor, hand prints embedded in his reddened neck. Yet, his beaming smile with that pale bruise above it suggested this was no act.
He was waiting for the fight to continue.
[6/10-Continued!]
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 2:49 pm
"No."
Deitric didn't bother turning back to regard Omi, and instead continued walking, his broad shouldered frame disappearing down the from view as he descended the ramp, wiping away the trickling blood stoically. The fight was over, in his eye(s).
"You lost," he stated, his back turned to the GTB II finalist as he melded into the crowd. The brave had had his opponent at his mercy - if he chose to, he could have twisted the man's head in his hands and snapped his neck, or continue choking him until he suffered brain damage or died. As far as he was concerned, the fight was over; Omi was only conscious because Deitric had purposefully chosen to act as a good sportsman and had ceased throttling him. The man's life had been in his hands, and he had taken the best possible route to preserve it. Using his honorable conduct as a means for deception only proved to Deitric that he was a defeated man.
"If we meet in the tournament, redeem yourself then if you can," the Khasmin man snapped coldly and walked away, disappearing into the mingling surge of the crowd. The press could choose to spin his exit from the ring however they chose - but as far as Deitric was concerned, there was no use in continuing to fight an opponent he deemed defeated, and so he walked away. If Omi chose to try and follow him, it'd be more trouble than it was worth, assuming he could even pick him out of the crowd that had surged around him to barrage him with questions.
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:08 pm
Barsait shrugged with a chorus of laughter. "If(s)" were iffy. If Omi had decided to bring a weapon, disregard the hand-to-hand rules, or any other variety of factors under the sun - ah, but such logic was futile simply because it wasn't applicable here!
"Now, that's no fun Deitric! The specifics weren't until someone choked the other fellow. To walk away now is to concede defeat, given I'm still readily able and willing to fight. If that is fine by you.." Barsait simply saw this as an excuse. If the brave had continued strangling him as he did, it may have lead to death, which would've ruined so many things for Jocasta - it wasn't even the slightest bit humorous.
Coming to his feet whilst brushing his lap free of dust, the [artist] could only sigh in dismay. Victory by default wasn't his intention, nor his interest - yet, it was what occured in his eyes. He didn't care what Jocasta considered good sportsmanship, it was about fighting 'til you couldn't any longer. To turn your back on that is a sign of a coward, be it to the actual danger of the fight itself, or perhaps to the world..
Unsure if Jocasta could even hear him any longer, Barsait merely bellowed with his returning voice unto the crowd:
"You lost today Jocasta, because of your pride. I will fight within the rules 'til I have won or lost, you will only battle on your own terms or you deem it an insult? I am afraid that does NOT sit well with me. Our next battle, I will not give you our usual considerations, your time as the Dynamo has ended!!"
His pre-battle and post-battle attitude, Jocasta had fallen from Omi's good graces with ease. Deceit was simply an element of war, only the naive turned their nose up at it, and to retreat from combat due to it was a complete disgrace to everyone present. Still, Omi Barsait's broad grin told his mood to the audience, snapping pictures and gossiping intently.
He got the message across. This year, more than their fists would clash. If Deitric did not acknowledge him as an equal, he would reduce Jocasta to a crippled mass on the floor in retaliation. There wasn't an alternative path.
[Victory by default. A poor outcome.]
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:25 pm
The taxi sped away from the curb almost before its passenger had both feet on the ground and the door closed behind her. Anxious to pick up another fare, it would seem. Ever watched it tear off, startled by the hurry, and in a moment she was alone on the sidewalk.
Judging by the hush that had befallen the street and the scant trickle of couples drifting out of the hotel lobby, night was quickly ticking away. She'd be lucky to get two decent hours of dancing in, not that she felt much like kicking up her heels at the moment. Instead, the dateless mariner would run her hands over the satiny chiffon fabric of her backless, cocktail-length gown to smooth out any unsightly wrinkles and find her way to the open bar. Free refreshments had their appeal right about now.
Ever tucked the Devil's money pouch into the bust of her dress as she slipped onto a seat, crossing her legs and letting one strappy heel dangle by the toe.
Apparently the event had taken on a far less elegant turn in her absence. There were brawls and battles going on, none of which Ever had the heart to spectate, so instead she turned to the uniformed bartender and offered a weak smile.
"What's your name?" She asked the man, her tone tired and resigned.
"Andrew."
"Andrew.." she sighed softly as she crossed her arms over the sleek countertop. "It's been one of those nights. Could I trouble you for a French 75?"
A French 75? Been a while since I've heard that. Gotta hand it to this dame, Andrew thought to himself as he reached for a clean champagne flute. She might be looking to knock herself out, but she sure as hell does it in style.
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:31 pm
[Just a block from the Hotel]
A witness had saw what happened in the limo and immediately called the authorities. Eventually, the limo was surrounded by caution tape as red and blue lights lit up the spot on the street. From an ambulance to several police units, the scene was currently under forensics as the murder was being analyzed. All the witness could tell to the cops was that he saw the driver being torn apart and ran away as fast as he could.
"Sir," said one of the cops, walking over to his superior.
"We just contacted the company that owns this limousine. They said it was rented out by a Roen Jaeger for the GTB."
The lieutenant adjusted the cap on his head. "Contact the authority under that tournament. Looks like we got ourselves a murder suspect."
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 3:56 pm
Yi walked Casually up into the curb as a Taxi cab quickly rushed passed him as the tail of his black jacket flapped as he walked towards the entrance to the hotel.
Entering he would stay silent for the minute, not that he was unsocial but he wasn't switched back to the language yet and was still in his maiden language of Mandarin Chinese. "Zhege difang kan qilai bu cuo" He said under his breath to himself freely with out the thought if anyone could understand what he said or meant with that.
Walking towards a back wall he'd lean against it, Once again trying to dodge most of the people till he could speak English he'd lean here as he analyzed the crowd. What to do at this grand party he thought, But then he remembered he couldn't speak yet.. So if someone came up to him he wouldn't be able to answer at that moment... Just to buy time as he leaned against the wall.
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 6:32 pm
Having skittered away from imminent danger, Faustina's composure was steadily righting itself about her, mind turning to address what should happen next. The Iwagakure ninja hadn't taken the bait, but no matter...a glance confirmed that Cyrus was still dealing with James, an action for which Faustina was extremely grateful, and one which she'd be sure to repay at some point.
Turning, Faustina continued her search for the entrance, about halfway through which she heard...
"...usual considerations, your time as the Dynamo has ended!!"
Her head turned, and the young Devil released a gasp. Hesitating, she bit her lip, then mostly on impulse decided to turn her direction towards the ring. Beyond her innate feelings of connection to the man Omi Barsait, she did note that having him at her side would likely be an invaluable advantage in her current position (assuming he wasn't another of her father's enemies).
Rushing up to the man's side, Faustina drew up her arms to lay gentle, gloved fingertips upon his torso, left hand lain against his chest and right hand upon the upper-right portion of his back. Standing at only 5'3" and therefore significantly shorter than him, her gaze would inevitably turn upwards as her mis-matched eyes searched for his, and her soft lips would part as she replied, "Mr. Barsait...are you all right? We should get you to a medic...!"
And quick, preferably. I need you in top-notch if someone else attacks!!!
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 6:33 pm
Earlier, Connor had left because he'd grown bored. He had no date, you see, and most everyone at the ball looked taken. Now, he figured he'd try his luck once more.
...only to end up lurking around the edges of the dance floor, eyeing the fight that had broken out and keeping his distance. It wasn't that he preferred not to fight. Connor had this tuxedo custom made.
He looked up from his suit and stopped dead in his tracks.
Undead. Abomination. Monster.
KB. The vampire was right in front of him, talking to a dog of all things. No one paid it any notice. No one ran screaming from the blood-sucking creature. They all acted...normal.
This is wrong.
Blood splashed the floor before him, spreading out in a sick puddle. But he wasn't at the ball anymore. He was underground. As he watched, the wound on his gut sealed close, black chitin forming over the gash and halting blood loss. All around him was death, he sensed it. Reanimated corpses, attending the mad doctor that cut him up, tested the limits of his endurance...and the lengths the parasite went to preserve its precious host.
Undead. Abomination. Monster.
Just like you!
"No!"
Eyes blazing with hatred but seeing nothing--nothing but the chatty vampire--Connor charged. He smashed into KB, right fist thundering into the side of the undead monster's head. A second later his left was coming around to join the fun.
1/10
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 6:46 pm
fwump
fwump
fwump What the hell is that pounding?For a moment the vampire's brow knitted in confusion. He was hearing a very strange sound. It was like the pounding of a heart, like blood rushing through veins... but different. Looking past the demi-human to the source of this sound, his smiling mouth opened. "HAAAAH!" He laughed, suddenly excited. That was when Connor's right fist impacted with the side of his head, sending him back a couple of steps. He bled slowly where the fist had impacted him, the wound shallow, but more evident than that of the sledgehammer had been earlier. Damage Reduction The flesh of a vampire is resilient and resists most attacks. Common injuries like scratches or pinpricks aren't capable of piercing a vampire's skin. Even a weapon like a knife is incapable of injuring a vampire unless it is used with great force. This damage reduction does not apply to silver or magical weapons, which affect vampire flesh normally. "CONNOR." He seethed, his gloved right already raised from chiding the wolf. His arm cocked back and he stared defiantly at the pathetic man in front of him. Solidifying his stance, he leaned his face in for more punishment, eying the youth defiantly with that split-face fanged grin of his. The siren song of ultraviolence, the face of a dominant figure that never stopped smiling at your misery. It's about ******** time.  1/10
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 6:54 pm
Everywhere he went, they were there. The dead, staring, leering at him. The Cloak and Dagger. There had been an undead, a magical gunslinger of some sort. The Conclave, a lich. Dead, all around. Stalking him. "No more!" His left hand altered course, grabbing at KB's suit just under his shoulder. The right hand came back up, poised to smash into the vampire's face. He knew he could hurt it too. The blood on its cheek...  The blood dripping from his hand...Right here and now he could hurt it. You could kill it. His right hand jetted forward into that grinning maw. Once. Twice. The third never came, Connor grabbing KB's clothes and growling at the monster. "What do you want from me!?" Undead. Abomination. Monster...2/10
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 7:08 pm
Crunch! Splurch! His face was broken. His face was mashed. The vampire spat his answer in spite, through his own teeth and his own blood. He spat his answer as the fists slammed into him, revealed it all to Connor while the man unleashed his rage. Roaring, the reply, "EVERYTHING!" Death Final Blow - KB combines all his strength into one strike, aiming to maim or mortally wound an enemy with either one of his hands. This allows him to pierce body armor or flesh as though it were tissue paper. This attack requires a moment of preparation and cannot change target, nor can it make the hand make substantial changes in trajectory. KB had allowed for the man to take hold of him and lose himself in his rage. He'd withheld his strike long enough from the opening moments, let alone the time it took for the man to punch him again and again. His answer came with the motion of his arm, his pristine white glove rocketing forwards to close the distance like a knife. He didn't bother to aim his limb around or under Connor's own, instead, he planned to slam right through any obstructions until he could see his hand cleanly out the other side. Through the chest, naturally, though he made no particular decision on which organ to destroy. "Give me everything." He whispered into Connor's ear, a greedy tug already molesting his blood. Even if it wasn't free of him ( though if successful it would be flowing pretty freely ) it would feel a desire to join the vampire. Not enough to harm one, but enough to let them know the leech was hungry.  2/10
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 7:14 pm
Robyn rolled her eyes at Rylen. The guy always had to antagonize people, really. The fox didn't want any trouble before the actual fights, but the wolf lived for that sort of thing. But he seemed to be following her lead in leaving, and she started to turn away. Now that the fight on the floor was done, maybe they could get a dance in or something.
Then their new acquaintance spoke again, and Robyn didn't even bother to hide the groan that escaped from her lips. That was it, they were screwed. No way Rylen would back down from being called "cute". Turning back, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath for Rylen's ears, hoping to catch him before he just jumped the guy. "You want backup?" She hadn't brought any of her metal weapons, but that didn't mean she was unarmed. She couldn't exactly take her claws off and leave them in her room, after all. At least they were retractable, which was how they were right now, looking like normal, albeit slightly thick, nails. One thought was all it would take to have them out, if Rylen asked her to.
Or maybe they would announce the brackets soon, and the half-wolf would be too distracted to bother. And then they could get out of there, leaving them safe till the more regulated area of the fights tomorrow.
....Robyn blinked.
Or maybe some guy she'd never seen before would come in and punch the guy, starting a brawl between the pair and leaving Rylen and Robyn ignored, as long as Rylen didn't do anything stupid. Unless he'd already jumped in the fight, the fox girl would grab at Rylen's collar (the shirt collar, of course), and tug, hissing at his ear. "Do you want to take the chance somethin'll go wrong, letting some punk alternate take your spot 'cause you were too stupid?"
The scent of blood and undead was making her sick, this close and this concentrated, and she just wanted to get out of there. Selene was getting antsy.
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 7:15 pm
A scene that had found the woman compromised had now developed into an evening that tempted her out of the limousine quite promisingly. Temptation, persuasion, and an impulsive acceptance; with what sounded like an exciting event, this was shaping into her favourite kind of night. So she let the last of her more roguish grins linger only in the dimmed interior of their ride. Jace certainly was living up to his promise so far from what she could see of the extravagance. xl a c e lx
"Mademoiselle," he warbled, the foreign language sounding all too natural at his lips.
Well, if giving the honour of accompanying an attractive man, her mind hissed approvingly as her lips broke into a smile, do him justice. She had certainly made the right choice in visiting an old friend for an evening gown; dark eyes glancing over her companion outside of the dim vehicle once more, they made a complimentary couple.
'Why, thank ye,' she replied with a grateful nod. The woman chuckled delightedly as she joined him in admiring the event. Her gaze flitted around the entrance as she tilted her head towards him, the waves of hair tumbling around her shoulders in the rich egyptian blue she always adorned. Half of her usually wild mane was pulled up, leaving a few tamed curls to brush against her neck and frame her features to try and distract from the faded scar along her cheek.
'Or rather, you certainly know how to treat a woman.' In a surprisingly appropriate manner, the lilt seemed to lift its curse on her tongue. Without the jaunty upbeat to her words, syllables returned and certain phrases unhashed, she still sounded far from normal. Where the lilt no longer did, the underlying accent stole perfect clarity from her. A romantic sound, with a touch of slavic. She owed it to him. His speech was charming in a way that would suit this ball, and she could put the effort into taming her own dialect.
Unable to tear her eyes away from the lights and music beckoning them, it was easy to see how avidly she anticipated it. Of anything she could expect, she knew at least it would be entertaining.
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 7:18 pm
"Not exactly a lone wolf, but close. He's a real nice guy, I'll say that, but he usually spends time alone and doesn't really let a whole lot out."
He watched the fight through the crowd with interest and continued stuffing himself silly, putting his other hand on the table for Iru to take... well, if she wanted. With a transition of time executed smoothly through a single sentence, the fight concluded, and he turned back to Iru.
"Victory again, haha. Hold on a second..."
Seemed the other man had some fight in him. He couldn't hear the warrior's response, but judging by the turning away, he'd more or less said "lolno" or quite possibly "go suck on it".
"One second."
Before he could vanish in the crowd, Rhoslyn had leapt to stand on his chair, and with a burst of glamor aimed more or less for Deitric, started waving his hand to try to get his attention.
Assuming he managed to actually get the glamour through, it'd feel sort of like that feeling you get when someone's staring at you, only with a name attached to it. Sitting back down, Rhoslyn smiled at Iru.
"Hopefully he saw me, then you could meet him. And I could ask him how long it took Death to recover from the a**-beating he gave. Hehe."
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Posted: Wed Jun 02, 2010 7:26 pm
Iru didn't care of he was alone wolf or not. She just didn't want to meet a douche tonight. She would continue to nibble on her fruits and other things of the sweet nature while holding onto Ross's hand with her free hand.
"Someone looks like his pride was hurt." She commented as she looked at the loser of the fight.
She let go of Ross's hand as he jumped onto his chair. What is he...oh. She chuckled a little. "Well I doubt he missed you. You're kind of hard to not notice, especially when you're standing on a chair and waving at the man." She noticed that there was a little piece of food on Ross's face. "You've got a little something there." She laughed while pointing at her left cheek to show him where the food was.
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