Description: What do you call three individuals of dubious moral character surrounded by cops? A benefit exposition match apparently. Someone in the SNF must enjoy setting up these sort of situations, but does anyone end the fight in cuffs? Only one way to find out!
It's a very nice day for a picnic in Metro Park today. The sun has just started its decent from high noon, and a cool breeze fills the air. One would suppose that's precisely why the Policemans Benefit Dinner is being held there, obviously! Several tables are set up for the officers, cooks are turning out very good, high-quality, and expensive food (at $300 dollars a plate). Stories are being swapped, alcohol consumed in usually moderate doses, and everyone is generally having a good time!
In the midst of this, mingling with the officers, is none other than Mr. Malcolm Burgess! He has a plate of food all his own, and while some of the officers give him a leery glance, they seem to be leaving him alone (courtesy of a rather generous donation, in addition to the price of his plate). He finishes the last of this while awaiting his opponents, being every bit the gentleman he claims to be with regard to his tablemanners.
Police. Of course it had to be police. At least there weren't any warrents out for him at the moment. Well, at least not in this country, or so he thought. He makes a note to check on that when he gets back. Perched safely up in his tree on the edge of the area set up for the benefit, he keeps his eyes on the set up. Cards shifting quickly between his hands in a steady shuffle. "What do you think?" It's a bare whisper, barely heard over the wind rustling the leaves around him.
There's not response of course, none that anyone else can hear. The cards in his hands go still, fingers sliding the one from the top of the deck. He looks at the face of the card, mouth pulling down into a slight frown. "That's what I thought." The card is returned to the deck, and the deck to a pocket inside his vest.
Still no sign of his opponents either. Someone organizing this thing has a sick sense of humor, but he's not about to let himself be shown as a coward either, he signed up for this thing. Still, he's not showing himself until he's sure the others are here as well.
It's a public fight--so Oboro shows up in his circus finery. It isn't too out of bounds--a black silk shirt, open to expose a nicely toned chest (for the ladies), over which he wears a brace of throwing knives--these are dulled. They might pierce skin at close range, but otherwise not. Similarly, he wears a pair of what look like combat knives at his waist, hung from the belt that holds up his black leather pants--but they'll be dulled, too. Painful to be stabbed or cut with enough force, but unlikely to be fatal.
Of the three, Oboro is the first to show himself... though he was there before, just as they were. When he -does- show, it's a pretty spectacular entrance--a cloud of smoke is the result of some pyrotechnics (at a safe distance) and Oboro steps out, bowing, playing up his circus showman aspect to the fullest effect.
He even manages to look 95% not sinister, with a broad showman's smile on his face, the soft-looking boots he wears muffling his steps as he makes a welcoming gesture to the crowd.
As Oboro makes his entrance, Mr.Burr looks up, and smiles. It is almost a nice smile, but something seems.... off. Maybe the mania in his eyes. Who can really tell? He looks to the officer he was speaking to, giving the man a firm handshake "Apologies for interrupting our conversation, but i've buisness to attend to". He stands, and walks around to stand not far from Oboro, giving the man a tip of his hat "One of my opponent, i presume? I must say that was quite the entrance. Few go to such extra lengths".
Replacing his hat, he looks over at the tree Dyre is in the branches of "You may come out now. It is time for the players to assemble on stage so as to play their part!".
Dyre drops out of the tree, staring down a cop that gives him an odd look. "I'm part of the entertainment." Yeah, that's convincing. He adjusts his vest and keeps on walking towards the other fighters. He blinks a few times shaking his head as he steps up onto the stage, arms crossing over his chest. "Well, then." He looks over his shoulder at the assembled audience. No.. this was not going to be good at all.
Between one blink and the next his eyes go from grey to red. His mouth opens in a too wide grin showing off his teeth. His demeanor changing from slightly nervous to almost aggressive in the blink of an eye. "Let's do this then." His deep voice losing some of it's softness, instead a sharp gravelly rumble as he picks up his volume. "He wants this done with. I agree."
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-------|
Oboro's opponents are certainly... interesting people. He can tell, just by looking at them, that they aren't particularly nice people. Well, that's alright with him. He'll remain looking pleasant inconspicious--if Dyre's little display was meant to intimidate, it certainly makes some of the cops look a little dubious. A lot in some cases.
"What is this guy... some sort of supervillain...?" comes one young recruit's voice. Oboro smiles at Dyre and at Burr both.
"Indeed. It is time to play this little game, isn't it?" Of course, the game has already started, so to speak, and behind the pleasant smile and demeanor, Oboro is already playing. Casually, he walks to one of the marked-off starting points, but he's not idle, not by a long shot, even if he seems so...
COMBATSYS: Oboro has joined the fight here in the center.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-------|
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Oboro focuses on his next action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-------|
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Dyre has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-------
Dyre shoves his hands into the gauntlets hanging from his belt, unclipping them and strapping them on with practiced ease. They are his prefered weapon after all, fighting with his fists encased in plate metal. Except he doesn't clench his fists as he reaches his starting point, instead turning to face his two opponents, red eyes flicking between one and the other. His fingers curl inwards, the sharpened claw-like tips of the gauntlet's fingers gleaming slightly.
He barely waits for a moment past his opponents reaching their starting points. As soon as both have their feet inside the marks he dashes off to the side. He doesn't move upright, dashing off to the side low to the ground, hands hitting the ground as he changes direction, looking more like a wolf on the hunt than a fighter ready for a match.
He zips in close to Mr. Burr, one clawed hand lashing out towards the back of his legs, towards the hamstrings, sharpened gauntlets reaching out for blood right from the start.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr dodges Dyre's V Hierophant.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-------
Burr too proceeds to his position, turning to face his opposition. He offers them a quick tip of his hat just in time to see Dyre charging him, and merely lifts his leg to allow the swiping grab to catch nothing but air "My my. How uncouth of you lad!".
Rather than put his hat back on his head, he slams it down towards Dyres head full force! The hat, with metal bands sown inside the material, is deceptively harmful if it were to impact!
Burr himself smiles the entire time, the mania in his gaze no longer hidden from view.
Apparently, Oboro muses to himself, these two have a little trouble keeping themselves under check. So, certainly, a question might be, which one is the greater danger? Oboro honestly can't answer that question, right now. He's only seen them in this brief moment. With the two going for each other off the bat, that gives Oboro a little bit of a break and an advantage--one he'd be foolish not to take care of.
Drawing his knives, he flips them in his hands, an idle, casual thing, twirling the blades around him in a deceptive brandish that speaks to his skill with the weapons. He makes his decision, and, in an instant, he snaps his right hand blade back into its scabbard--and from there, he whips his right hand out again.
That motion, very much like a knife throw, flings a knife at Mr. Burr--but not a real knife. It's a glowing, purplish projection of a knife. But the impact it will have, while not physically substantial, might be even worse than having a real knife thrown at him...
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Dyre with Destruction Derby.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Dyre
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-------
The blow from the hat is taken directly onto his head. Sure enough Dyre flinches slightly at the blow, but his momentum is already carrying him on. He doesn't seem to be the time to take a moment to sit still during a fight. He even lets out what sounds like a growl under his breath as he fails to draw even a bit of blood. "Shhh..." The hushing noise isn't directed at anyone, actually for a moment his eyes look completely unfocused, at least until those red orbs settle on Oboro. If one won't give him what he wants, maybe the other will.
Again, with only that short pause his lips peels back from his teeth. His eyes almost blazing with energy for a moment as he focuses on the performer. "I know, I know." He growls under his breath to himself as he dashes towards Oboro.
He pulls up short in front of the circus star, clawed hand raising into the air, red wisps of energy whirling around his fingers. Then it explodes in a violent torrent of unfocused energy, his eyes flaring in a faint echo as he lets loose.
COMBATSYS: Oboro successfully hits Mr.Burr with Phantom Blade.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Dyre
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|------=
It is with amused satisfaction that Burr feels the impact of his dapper yet dangerous attire on Dyres person. He looks up just in time to take the dagger-shaped chi projectile to the forehead! His head abruptly snaps back with the impact, and the assembled officers wince or express shock in their own various ways.
Slowly bringing his head down, Burr puts his hat back on, grinning from ear to ear.
As he follows after Dyre, closing the circle so all are in range, he points his cane at his assailant "Allow me to respond in kind!". From the canes tip, a small beam of red chi is fired towards Oboro!
COMBATSYS: Oboro blocks Mr.Burr's Cane Beam.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Dyre
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-----==
COMBATSYS: Dyre successfully hits Oboro with X Fortune.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|---====
Well, now he's drawn the ire of both of his opponents. Unexpected in the moment, but inevitable in the whole. The beam of red chi is contested by Oboro's aura and that, at least, is enough to protect him from that--but that leaves him open and his defenses, momentarily, diminished.
That means that Dyre's clawing red energy scores a painful hit on the circus man, and that sends him reeling. He staggers back, the red energy assaulting him, and that probably pleases Dyre.
What might please him less is Oboro's subsequent recovery. The gleam in his eye changes, too. If he's to deal with killers--and he certainly recognizes men of that caliber--then he'll have to change his game, too. This might just be a bloodier affair than the cops bargained for.
The circus man disappears in a cloud of mist, only to reappear behind Dyre, right behind him, reaching out to grasp the man by the back--his intent to spin around, disorienting Dyre briefly and hurling him forward.
If he manages that, then he'll teleport again, subsuming into mist and reforming in front of Dyre to potentially fold him up on a sidelong kick that he'd run right into.
COMBATSYS: Oboro successfully hits Dyre with Illusive Spear.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Dyre
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-======
Oh, Dyre is certainly pleased, if the look on his face is any indication. Indeed, some of the cops around the sides of the arena must notice what Oboro already has. Dyre is not an individual used to pulling punches, and most certainly wants blood. He obviously thinks Oboro will be a moment in recovering, so his attention turns to Mr. Burr, the bloody gaze locking back on the one who denied him his first taste of blood for the match. And so he doesn't notices the circus star suddenly appearin behind him, and his defenses are down as he's sent into a headlong spiral.
He has just enough time to realise his mistake and to see the performer reappear in front of him to take a kick right when he can't really defend against it. Momentum reversed he flies for a few feet in the other direction, landing in a crouch, claws raking a furrow in the ground as he steadies himself. "No. No. This is fun.. I can control it." He sounds like he's having an argument with someone. And some of the cop a certainly looking at his crossways now.
He lets out another rumbling growl and launches himself at Burr with an almost single minded determination
No fancy tricks, no upwelling of energy around him. He just dives in, claws extended to tear at flesh, trying to rake twin furrows in his opponent.
In the middle of the swipes his eyes shift from red to grey between blinks. The snarl he's worn since the match began reverting to an annoyed frown, his voice smoothing out slightly. Still deep, but lacking the growl. "Seems you can't."
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr endures Dyre's Aggressive Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1 Dyre
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-======
With an insane smile, Burr moves IN as Dyre does, allowing the feral fighter with the strange eyes to rake his claws against the metal reinforcements under his suit, much of which slips in between the cracks of to rend his flesh as desired! Burr, however, doesn't seem to even notice, on some level seems to REVEL in the damage! He bleeds freeloy as he slips his cane over towards Oboro, attempting to loop him with the crook, pull him close, and throw him at Dyre!
After all, it would be rude to make either feel left out!
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Oboro with Hooked Throw.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 1|-----==|=======
This is a fight that is going to be brutal. That was evident from the beginning, and Oboro is not really used to being the most sane-looking member of a fight. It's not that Burr's insanity shocks or disturbs Oboro, but it makes him unpredictable. Oboro is flung right into Dyre and the impact is not great--well, it is, just not great for Oboro.
That will probably earn him an attack from Dyre, but he'll just have to plan on it. For now... it's time to finally put his blades to use. He draws them, adopting a stance that is a mix of a kung fu stance and a traditional knife-fighter's stance; lunging forward, he feints a high, jabbing strike before cutting outwards with both blades, aiming to catch Burr in the torso.
These are not dulled blades--they'll cut, for real. Blood will be spilled.
Dyre seems to almost have himself under control, at least until a nice juicy target comes flying his way. Eye flash back from grey to red in an instant, as Dyre loses the momentary grip he had on the situation, or whatever his particular issue is. He stands with arms wide, claws hooked and ready for more blood, more than the scant amount that stains them. But as Oboro draws closer he moves to the side, letting the other fighter instead hit the ground. To much risk that would throw him off balance.
Even either his eyes on Oboro he extends a clawed gauntlet towards Burr. The dapper fighter really was wroking on his last nerve, and it was time to do something about it.
As soon as Oboro is back on the attack, so is Dyre. Four on the floor he charges at the same target, trying to work the dapper Burr into an impromptu pincer attack, weather his other opponent likes it or not. As he nears he dives into a roll, sliding under Oboro's blades to come up on Burr's other side, lashing out with his claws at his hopefully undefended flank.
Once again as he lashes out, his eyes flick color again, back to grey. "Ulf! Enough!"
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr blocks Oboro's Medium Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 1|-----==|=======
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr just-defends Dyre's IX Hermit!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Dyre
[ |||||||||||||| ]
Oboro 1|-----==|=======
Oh ho ho! As Oboro goes flying, rather than strike at him, Dyre turns and works WITH him? Too entertaining!
The game is afoot!
As Dyre goes into a roll, Burr brings one arm up, letting the strike impact off the metal braces underneath his sleeves with a loud clang, grunting with effort as the momentum still takes what toll it does.
Turning sideways, as Dyre completes his roll, Burr reaches up and grabs his hat, swatting away the strike with it at little cost to himself, though his hat is not as lucky as some of the material is stripped from it's metal frame.
Spinning fast, he replaces his hat with one hand while the other lashes out with his cane, attempting to knock Oboros legs out from under him!
If successful, Burr also sends a fast second strike at Oboros kneecaps, not enough to really damage, but enough to REALLY hurt!
He is enjoying this greatly it seems!
COMBATSYS: Oboro fails to counter Cane Twirl from Mr.Burr with Haze Counter.
- Power fail! -
~ Cruel hit! ~
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Dyre
[ |||||||| ]
Oboro 1|--=====|=======
That... was certainly painful. The cane knocks Oboro over, his attempt at defense short-circuited, and despite the odd look of the attack, it sends him away from both Burr and Dyre. The circus man groans, getting back to his feet, but is out of position to prosecure any attacks--and in truth, needs a moment to recover, though that doesn't show on his face.
Hopefully, Dyre and Burr will give him that moment. Of course, if he can sense weakness, they probably can too, and they certainly seem like the type to try and capitalize on that. He'll just... have to see.
Dyre takes a quick step back from Mr. Burr, his hands clenching into fists, the claw tips safely tucked away. He stands upright, bringing his fists up in a more traditional fighter's stance, perhaps a bit more defensive, but at least he no longer seems to be dashing about the stage like some sort of crazed animal. Grey eyes dart to the cops ringing the arena, hoping his change in tactics will divert some of their attention away from him. Ulf very much lacked subtlety..
"Calm down and you can have another taste." It's barely a whisper, meant for himself, but doubtless the others in the arena can hear his soft words. He does another quick assessment of where everyone stands, and decides that it might be best to take down who seems to be the most deadly player on the field. His gaze once more honing in on Burr like a beacon.
His demeanor may have changed, but he doesn't let his offense slow. He takes a step in towards the dapper gentleman, pivoting on his foot. One hand flares with energy, this time silver instead of red as he spins around. Energy infused metal comes flying in from the side, the gauntleted backhand aimed right for Burr's face. He also doesn't seem any more merciful when calm either.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr fails to interrupt IV Empress from Dyre with Fly Splitter.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1 Dyre
[ |||||||| ]
Oboro 1|--=====|=======
Tough as he is, Burr isn't super-human (Yet!). He turns just a moment too late from his amusements with Oboro to prepare, and though he tries to reach for his canes handle, and use the blade therein on Dyre, he just isn't fast enough!
All Burr is able to do with his effort is pull his head back a bit, which is not enough to completely prevent the blow, as the tips still rake him across the face cleanly! His head snaps sideways with the injury, and he pauses to wipe the blood that seeps form the wounds out of his eyes!
Oboro's gotten his breather. And Dyre has, at least partially, evened the score. Of course that wasn't really his -intent-, but that's the end result. The circus performer appreciates it, honestly. But how best to show that appreciation? Well... some might say that returning the favor is the best way to go about that. So that's what he does.
In his own way. His right hand flickers outwards once, twice, forehand-backhand, almost too fast to see--and that sends a couple of knives at Dyre. They're... well... one knife is real, gleaming bright and shiny along the edge--the other looks very similar but is a glowing, purple construct. If Dyre was paying attention earlier that second knife would certainly look very, very familiar...
COMBATSYS: Dyre blocks Oboro's Double Phantom.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Dyre
[ ||||||| ]
Oboro 1|-======|=======
Dyre's eyes flick to the side as he sees projectiles coming his way. And then in all the stupid maneuvers in the world, rushes right towards them. The first knife is swatted out of the way, metal gauntlet taking most of the force of the blow, striking sparks as metal clashes with metal. Luckily, the knife avoids spearing any of the spectators, that would surely bring the police down on them in an instant.
The second energy spawned knife is not so easily handled. He brings up his arm to keep it from his face as he charges through, chi blade raking a score across his arm that he barely seems to register after the earler beating he got.
He drops his arm as he closes in on Oboro. He doesn't bring up his fists to swing a punch. No, instead as he closes in on his opponent he pulls back for a moment, then drives forwards with his skull in the lead.
With his eyes cleared, and red gashes crossing his face, leaking red, Burr now looks much more the lunatic. He decides to play the same game that had been played earlier between his opponents, with Oboro the target this time!
"Excuse me, but i do believe you have this coming" he says as he comes up from the other side, attempting to drive his knuckles into the mans stomach as hard as he can!
COMBATSYS: Oboro dodges Dyre's Headbutt.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1 Dyre
[ ||||||||| ]
Oboro 1|-======|=======
COMBATSYS: Oboro counters Strong Punch from Mr.Burr with Haze Rejection.
[ \\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Mr.Burr 1/------=/=======|=======\===----\1 Dyre
[ |||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-======
Time to dance. He knew he'd draw both their attention again shortly--the nature of a shifting fight like this is chaos, after all. And Oboro is hurting--these people aren't, exhibition match or no, playing around. Dance is what he does, metaphorically speaking, around Dyre--avoiding that headbutt by a narrow margin, spinning out of the way and right into Mr. Burr's path.
There's a fraction of a moment where Mr. Burr might think he's struck his opponent. He'll get a fraction of a sense of impact--and then Oboro disappears in a cloud of mist only to reappear behind Burr, striking with an open palm into his back. He disappears again, reappearing in front of Burr, striking again, this time with a low kick. And again, and again, the strikes speeding up, taking at least five seconds total to strike Burr--and the final strike, a double palm strike right to Burr's chest, his hands hissing with that purple energy.
Coming out of that, Oboro wobbles. He may have enacted a measure of vengeance against Burr, but that took quite a lot out of him--and Dyre is still there, still threatening with his very presence. He'll have to be careful. At least, should he fall, in this public area Dyre -might- not rip his throat out...
Missing his assault doesn't seem to bother him as much as it had before, hoping back a step to hopefully get clear of retaliation, instead he's not the one being retaliated against. Dyre has always been, and likely always will be an opportunist of the worst sort. With the voice in the back of his head egging him on he spins towards Burr. Silver psi energy wraps around his fist like smoke as he pulls his arm back.
His target is neither Burr nor Oboro, instead he drives his fist right into the ground, the smoking energy around his fist dissipating as he does.
There's only a slight flash of light beneath the dapper Mr. Burr to give away where it went, before it explodes in a torrent of silver psi energy from right under his feet.
Opportunist, indeed.
COMBATSYS: Dyre successfully hits Mr.Burr with VII Chariot.
[ \ < > ///////////// ]
Mr.Burr 1/---====/=======|=======\====---\1 Dyre
[ |||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-======
Burr audibly OOFs as Oboro hits him, the attack sending him rolling away. He starts to stand just in time to see the ground beneath him beginning to glow, and attempts to hop back out of the way. While he saves himself the brunt of the attack, enough of it envelops him to send him flying back yet again!
At this point, burnt, bruised, cut, and worst of all, in need of a tailor, he decies he's had enough. Deciding to toss in his hat, figuratively of course, before knock unconscious is much more his style.
Taking out a shiney silver dollar, he flips, catches, and peers. Tails! Since Dyre seems the one with more wrong in his head, tails must be Oboro! "A good scuffle gentleman. I salute you, and leave you with a literal parting shot!". He points his cane at Oboros back, and a large burst of firey chi explodes from the tip!
Without watching to see if he even hits, Mr.Burr returns to the dinner tables, sitting down where he had been before, and ordering another $300 dollar dinner, nodding to the applauding officers, who even if they are opposed to his ilk HAVE been enjoying themselves watching the fight!
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr can no longer fight.
> ///////////// ]
|=======\====---\1 Dyre
[ |||||||| ]
Oboro 0|-------|-======
COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Oboro with Roman Candle.
> ///////////// ]
|=======\====---\1 Dyre
[ || ]
Oboro 1|-----==|=======
The gout of fiery chi slams into Oboro's chest, and it sends him flying back into a buttress. It's a painful-sounding whack, and Oboro doesn't offer to get up immediately after that. Fortunately, he hit such that he's kind of slumped back, almost sitting. He draws a knife, but then thinks about it--and shakes his head, putting the knife away. Dyre is not the kind of person he wants to make an enemy of. To contest him in this fight is one thing--to take action against him from this position, so clearly unfavorable, is another thing entirely.
The moment of rest lets him, at least, push up from his 'seated' position and salutes Dyre sardonically. "Congratulations," he says, recovering some of his poise.
"It would appear that you are the winner of this little play." The congratulations at least -sound- sincere, or as sincere as they need to be. A brief glance at Mr. Burr--he'll certainly remember both these individuals--and Oboro makes a grand bowing gesture.
At the bottom of it? He drops a smoke pellet and, as it hisses and forms a cloud around him... he disappears. The smoke will dissipate quickly, but the circus man will be nowhere to be found afterwards.
COMBATSYS: Oboro takes no action.
> ///////////// ]
|=======\====---\1 Dyre
COMBATSYS: Oboro can no longer fight.
> ///////////// ]
|=======\====---\1 Dyre
Dyre at least nods his thanks to the congratulations offered by Oboro. He may not be entirely sane, but he knows the difference between a real fight and an exhibition match. Well, in so far as the latter is over before everyone is dead, the former not so much. Burr likewise receives a polite nod, even if it is a bit heavy on the scowl. He looks at the police still encircling him, remembering exactly where he is all of the sudden. Why was doing this surrounded by criminals and low-lives so much easier? You'd think they'd be more likely to jump on him in his bruised state.
Needless to say, he doesn't waste time. Nor does he join the festivities like Mr. Burr. Insteads he turns and walks off stage. Gauntlets being unbuckled from his hands and returned to his belt. Better be gone before anyone has a chance to figure out there are law enforcement angencies out there that would love to get their hands on him.
He smirks as he passes the last of the officers. "I told you the Ten of Swords was not for us."
His eyes flash red for just a moment. "Never doubted you."
With a faint chuckle he disappears among the trees.
COMBATSYS: Dyre has ended the fight here.
Log created on 19:45:20 11/09/2014 by Dyre, and last modified on 00:56:29 11/10/2014.