Match of the Millennium

Description: Task Force International has been sent in disarray. With the death of the White Angel of Death and Lita Luwanda, the easy-going Bolivar quickly is realizing that there is a traitor in the ranks of the Interpol team. Breaking away from Charlie, he goes out on his own to find the source of this betrayal. But how will the expert agent from South of the Border react when he discovers that the one and only Daniel Jack is the source of... The Ultimate Betrayal?! (The cover shows Bolivar moving through a deep, dark forest, following a hunting trail. In one hand was a latern, the light searing through the strange black mist. In the other, he was armed with a knife and holding himself at a cautious combat stance. His eyes drift to the side, as he stares at the vaguely humanoid trees around him. The edge of the cover is surrounded by the reaching branches of trees, all groping towards him. Behind him, emerging from the brush, is the shape of Ace Detective Daniel 'Jack' Little, obvious by the detective uniform. But there are only shadows of his features, excluding yellow eyes and bared teeth. His long clawed fingers reach for Bolivar's neck, ready to strangle him from behind.) (45 cents)

[BOLIVAR]
The tournament was taking its toll on Bolivar Montiero Diez, with a very close brush with death at the hands of Lotus. He very nearly lost his life attempting to avenge the death of Lt. Lita Luwanda, and had heard that Daniel Little, his official Interpol contact, had suffered a similar fate. Much like Daniel, he had faced her in the Living Forest. Except that Detective Little had not come out of the Forest afterwards, and there was no statue of him as a Fatality. Hence, Bolivar has gone on a recovery mission to see just what happened to his associate. Bolivar does not like working with others, the stench of hypocrisy about his comrades, just as it had lingered around his parents and their aristocratic friends in Venezuela in the prelude to the peaceful revolution of Hugo Chavez. He remembers well the purges that followed.

Since Bolivar's two good suits have been destroyed, he now wears a white gi given to him by Shang Tsung's servitors. His black combat boots are the only remnant of his clothing, and they have served him well so far. Wearing his sunglasses, the other survivor, he trudges through the Living Forest, the whirling skies full of ghosts and demons above him causing the hair on his neck to stand on edge. He shivers as he moves along, sensing the living entities inside the trees as he moves forward. His heel drags to a halt as he reaches the point where he had fought Lotus, looking up into the tree cover above him, and then slowly panning his head towards the brambles, removing his eyewear and sliding it away in his white outfit.

[DANIEL]
Through the brambles, Bolivar might see a game trail.

A game trail was a natural occurance, typically. Generations of fauna passing through the woods tend to follow the same paths again and again, winding through the woods of the Living Forest. The forest itself had a primal bent to it, the mystic forces of the woods hanging heavy over the forest. But there wasn't the typical signs that identified the game trail; the beaten down path, the broken branches and brambles knocked aside. No, these weren't the obvious signs of a game trail here.

It was the corpses.

The first corpse was vaguely in the shape of an ape. It had the knotted limbs, the hairy body. The face was all wrong, but with a body so mangled, it was asking a bit much for easy identification. The ape-like creature was... broken. That was the easiest way to describe it. Its limbs were twisted in manic directions, Wrenched from every joint. Every piece of it was dislocated, with several points where it's arms were just snapped.

And only a few meters down the trail, was another broken beast.

This one was a jackal, clear as day. It's features were more engorged and primal than a proper jackal, almost like a jackal from a primordial age, but it was a jackal. It's legs were twisted around itself, wrenched and broken nearly as brutally as the ape. It's jaw hangs slack, broken open, while it's black eyes stare blankly in the air. There was a visible trail of blood leading down the path now, the sign of the violence. And it might have just been a reminder of the violence...

Until the howl of pain rattles deep down the hunting trail.

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar detects the game trail, and softly steps forward, his boots moving over the recessed leaves and twigs with small snaps and ruffles. He smells the dead monstrous animal before he sees it, his fingers uncurling from his hands as he spreads them along with his hands at his sides, his head ducking ever so slightly with a faint bend of one knee, the other following as he steps forward into the proverbial abyss. He continues along, ignoring the ape after a brief analysis of its body points, not familiar with big game but knowing the animal's anatomy enough, since it is an ape and apes are to man what a man is to a God. He sees the jackal next, the dired nature of the animal giving him pause, both physical and mental. Emotionally, he feels a retch boiling and turning in his stomach, at how horribly the legs were mutilated. Even to a creature threatening one's life, that is the work of the most enraged fighter.

Bolivar halts and freezes at the howl of pain. He slowly raises his left arm and slides the sleeve of his white gi back, revealing his leather sheath bracer. He removes his kapap knife from the inner edge of his forearm and slides it about into the blade down position, his fingers curling it into his palm for optimal grip. His knuckle rubs into the exposed butt to calm his nerves, as he quietly moves into the hunting trail's deeper portion where the howl came from. He sidles, unconsciously at first, to his left, to keep his knife hand on the right the dominant one. He does not expect an assault from the side, even if he is in the Living Forest.

[DANIEL]
The trail of corpses goes deeper and deeper.

A stray deer like creature; a vulture, a wolf. It was a warpath of torment and torture, of rage and agony. It was a trail of pain and suffering for the sake of pain of suffering. There wasn't even any signs of feeding; these were killed for the sake of being killed. Each one was twisted and wrenched into horrible shapes, crippled into death. The howls continue, intensifying as Bolivar follows the trail of corpses.

And they stop being corpses.

The beasts are almost entirely carrion feeders now, scavengers lured by the scent of death. A monstrous vulture writhes on the ground, it's wings shattered and snapped. Several more jackals whine softly, unable to move from the fractures on the limbs. But fewer and fewer fractures. The depth of suffering was growing more shallow. The trail of victims continue into a clearing, where a downed tree is overturn, black blood of the living forest pouring out on the dirt floor of the forest.

Leading to the last figure, Agent Little.

The detective was garbed in similar garb as Bolivar; he had lost his only suit long ago. Instead of a white gi, however, the agent was garbed in silks of orange and purple. His top was the orange, his billowy slacks was the purple. Images of a moth are embroidered on both pants and shirt; purple on the orange, and orange upon the purple. He was hunched over a struggling animal., and a black mist hangs around him, the tendrils of the cloud reaching out around him. His back was at Bolivar, his focus turned away, his face turned down to his prey. All attention was on his prey, on a singular jackal he found. The animal in his clawed fingertips, seizing tightly upon it's leg. A fresh howl is unleashed from the poor animal...

As he slowly, methodically, wrenches the forelimb from its knee socket.

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar moves carefully through the unbidden bush of the deeper recesses of the Living Forest, allowing the stench of death to flow into his nostrils unbidden. He wants to smell this carnivore's prey, to understand him, to see just what it is that has created such an abundance of agony for these living creatures, although they are not those created by God. Of this he is sure. The wicked things of this forest have been gravely punished by something with intellect and willpower, but a mind more twisted than them. A trail of pain through a portrait of agony, as if he is chasing a mad merchant of human flesh up a river in Africa, in some other time or land or memory. It flutters about Diez's mind, his past, the thrum of his Spanish blood remembering Moorish raids into coastal villages along North Africa and deep into the sunderlands of Iberia.

Bolivar finally stops, seeing the figure hunched over the demonic canine. And this figure, which was once Daniel Little, is even more demonic than the jackal. And less an angel than when Bolivar had first seen Daniel on this island. But Bolivar was never an angel. Merely a mortal soul flung into a pit and carved into a grotesque monster with a shred of humanity seperating him from a beast, and pulled out again to hunt humans for the forces of order. A demon, perhaps. Maybe even an Antichrist given angel's wings. But never a warrior of God. That was only in his dreams.

He extended his left hand, open, spreading his digits at Daniel, as he dropped into a combat posture, knife at the ready, his eyes narrowing.

"Daniel Little." Threat assessment was not necessary here.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Bolivar          0/-------/-------|

[DANIEL]
Daniel.

The detective couldn't really see. Oh, it had eyes. It could sense, and exist. But Daniel Jack himself was blind. The only sensation he could take in the blackness was an overwhemling hunger. But for moments, for brief glimmers, he could see, and think, and even act. The briefest of moments, he could rise above the surface of the water, only to sink back into the abyss. He wasn't even aware of the familiar face, even as it calls him.

Daniel.

Hey, Daniel, we got company.

The figure rises up from his hunch, and turns. And there, the face of Daniel is revealed. Rows of sharklike teeth are bared, and yellow eyes with black scerla stare as the black mist writhes around him. The animal struggles. But the detective... takes a step back. What's his name, Daniel? "Bolivar..." The detective mutters with distance eyes. "You need to get out of here, I can't-" The detective takes in a deep sniff.

And he sinks back below.

"... You've come with souls..." The detective growls, mouth watering. "I can't get any relief unless I get souls, scuzzy." He growls, turning back towards the jackal. "Hurting helps, but it... it fades so fast." He gives a swift kick to the animal, as it lets out a yelp of pain as it flings away into the brush. "But maybe, maybe if I get... get some souls, maybe I can get more relief." The detective turns back towards Bolivar, lurching towards him in a burst. And then, recoiling. "I need... I need..." He shuts his eyes tight, curling his clawed fingers as he struggles to focus. "... To challenge you, I need to challenge you, scuzzy." His palm flares with a red light, as a cacophony of voices rush over him. "I challenge you, I challenge you, to Mortal Kombat scuzzy." And there, he eases into the defensive stance of Todoh-Ryuu, a sane, stable stance, with a primal edge over it. "Oh god, please accept."

"I don't think I'll stop if you don't."

COMBATSYS: Daniel has joined the fight here.

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Daniel           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Daniel equips a shining Rose Soul Shard.

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Daniel [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar equips a vibrant Flaming Yellow Soul Shard.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar watches silently as Daniel turns about, revealing his new face. The grimace from the smell turns into a powerful, disgusted frown, but only at first. As it speaks and he hears what remains of Daniel's voice, he internally recoils in horror, realizing that Little has lost his mind to some dark entity present in this tournament. He is going to have to put this thing down, before Daniel's Interpol training and his knowledge of Earthrealm is utilized by...Whatever...Agent Little is now. Bolivar shuts Daniel's humanity out of his mind, as if he was brawling in prison or chasing a man who he knew he was innocent under orders of his masters. The mission only mattered now.

Bolivar's right hand flares to life in a glow of yellow energy, the souls swirling about his blade as they alight along the narrow double-edged blade. "Very well." Bolivar rushes forward, charging at Daniel across the damned ground with his combat boots gripping the ground as he charges at him. He slashes to the left with the blade down, attempting to cut across the monstrous demon's face, before he swings around with a shift to his right and a slash backwards with the downward tip. His wrist swivels about and he slashes inwards, with a cut down, aiming to stab the tip of his blade into Daniel's neck, before yanking it out. The attack, admittedly, opens his guard.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the veins of the burning blood.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Daniel endures Bolivar's Delta Slash.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[DANIEL]
"Thank you, scuzzy."

The words come heavy from the detective, a low growl. Felt real. It was sincere. Because now he could have those souls. Turning on Interpol- the ends justified the means. Once he could control himself, he could make everything right. He knew it. He believed in it.

He needed Bolivar to help him on that.

As the yellow energy flares, the detective felt... no reason to stop it. The hunger overwhelms him as Bolivar forces himself in. Daniel Jack hooks the hand by the wrist, not to redirect it, but to use as a pivot. The slice comes across the detective face, ripping open a wound. There should be blood. There is black mist instead, oozing out in a rush of energy. Orange and red energy floods around him as Daniel instinctively sneers. The detective lurches, hurling himself. Up close, he could feel Bolivar, smell him, taste him. Those teeth bare.

But he wasn't going to bite him.

No, he uses the close quarters to force a clinch, force a grapple. The detective's powerful limbs snap together, attempting to seize the Interpol agent, the fellow Interpol agent. Should he get that grip, get that opening, he would repeat the same instinct that had brought upon the trail: Flip Bolivar on his back, and get a pin on his arm. And there, he would begin twisting, wrenching, snapping. An invocation of pain and suffering, to make Bolivar hurt, to hurt him so much that he cries in sweet agony. Filling pain, filling suffering. An appetite for agony that Daniel needed to be fed.

He needed to stop this.

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar blocks Daniel's Power Throw.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar grunts as his wrist is caught, realizing that the former Agent Little, in this new form, is a different creature than he was before whatever blasphemous transformation turned him into the abomination that Little is now. Diez is flipped about and onto the ground, before the wrenching of his arm begins. He opens his hand at the first jolt and drops his knife, before he growls and turns away from the beast, fighting the wrench of his arm.

His arm is manipulated about cruelly, but he fights it every step of the way, his body flexing as his face screws up and the tendons of his neck and upper body stand out in tension. He stares at Daniel in close quarters, into the monster's yellow eyes, before he lashes out with his left fist, in a powerful blow aimed right at the monstrosity's shark-like teeth. He rips his arm away afterwards, still on the ground, but poised to stand after the struggle on the ground.

"What are you," Bolivar hisses in fear, but it is not fear for his own safety.

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the strength of the killing fist.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Daniel interrupts Fierce Punch from Bolivar with Jumping Jack Flash EX.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1      [E] Bolivar

[DANIEL]
What am I.

I'm not human anymore. I'm past that. I can barely hold on to my humanity in this state. I know this, but I don't know what I am. I am violence hate poison terror kill consume the souls. I am consumed by a hunger beyond my endless perceptions. I am truly alien to myself. What am I? What am I?

You know what you are.

You are the one that you inspired. The Lady Killer. The embodiment of human violence, given flesh and form. The seed had been planted, you were chosen to be the next. To be family. To be kin. To be the next. And you have been grown, shaped, sculpted, transformed. You know me, and you know yourself. You only need to say the words, and it will be all clear.

"The Butcher."

The words come out of Daniel Jack as he struggles with Bolivar. It was a whisper, a murmur. A silent scream. But for all his appearance, the terrible mask of monstrousity around him, the shadows of his humanity was there in his strength. Bolivar is able to meet force with force, the detective's reckless offense stunted by a sturdy guard. But with that defense, there was no delicious pain. Daniel needed it, he had to have it. He had to make Bolivar suffer for his sake. The punch is sent straight to his face, right for the teeth. He could have bitten him right there.

But he restrains himself,

The blow knocks the teeth free, black blood oozing from his maw. That wasn't stopping the monster. The relentless offense of the former detective doesn't cease. Daniel Jack attacks, attacks, attacks, hurling himself into every blow. His face wounds close, his flesh rejuvenates, the teeth pushes forward from the rows behind him. Black and yellow and crimson energy swirl around him as he keeps forcing forward as Bolivar falls backwards. Bolivar doesn't get a chance to stay away. The detective seizes Bolivar by his knees, dipping low with his fall, and with a heave, he swings him off the ground upwards. Leaping up with the momentum, the chi explodes around him as he slams the Latino back into the cold earth of the Living Forest, unleashing a shockwave of energy with him. And with it, the words seep out like the black mist around them. "No.

"I am The Lady Killer."

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar winces in a fighter's reflex as he punches into the monster's mouth, a natural response to a move that might get blood in his eyes, despite there being none. And then, the bottom drops out, as Bolivar is hefted off the ground and thrown into the air, his body bowing backwards into an arch as he's thrown upwards, waving his arms slowly as he flips about in a smooth revolution, kicking as his legs go inverse. And then, Daniel leaps after him, catching him. Bolivar is driven into the ground by the self-proclaimed Lady Killer, the shockwave rippling outwards as Diez bounces onto his side and rolls away. He vomits on the ground, clear bile spewing from his mouth at the force of the impact. Coughing raggedly as he pushes himself into a kneeling position, he retches, spitting up fluids. If he had had a meal, it would have been worse. But instead, it was just the water from the Island's eateries. He slowly turns his head to regard Daniel, sneering.

Bolivar's body snaps to life with a yellow penumbra surrounding him as he rises to his feet, and turns to face Daniel. His ring flashes around his right hand, before he charges forward and attempts to slam said hand up into Daniel's gullet, behind his chin, with a fast uppercut move that is made all the more rapid by his left hand moving behind his lower back in a fist, as if he's a fencer performing an arrogant schmisse against an untrained student. The actual combination of factors, however, makes the snake strike to the muscle that controls the mouth far more dangerous in the length of the smooth, upwards finger stab.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the veins of the burning blood.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar successfully hits Daniel with Quiver Palm.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[DANIEL]
He's vomiting.

That moment of revulsion, that moment of pure, primal suffer earns a shudder from Daniel Jack as he swiftly returns to his defensive stance. It wasn't disgust. It was desire. The stench of the bile fills everything around him. It should have been disgusting. It was exhiliration. The sensation flushes around Daniel as clarity forces itself in. He backs away from Bolivar, as the mist slips all around, flooding around Bolivar. The sensation of souls was too close, too powerful, too delicious. But he stays his hand, he holds back. Because Daniel didn't want to kill Bolivar. He just wanted to hurt him. And he did. The urges were satiated, they were fulfilled. He could almost retreat now. But... but then Bolivar turns to face him again.

Don't sneer.

Bolivar, I know we barely know each other, and that's bad, that's real bad. Don't sneer. Don't even look at me. Just don't incite me. Please, I'm thin skinned now. I want to rip you open take yours souls kill you kill you kill you and I must stay my hand and you are looking at me with damning eyes you-

How dare you.

How dare you sneer at us?

Chi energy floods around the monster as his face contorts into rage. Seething, boiling fury bursts out from the detective, just from a look. It was a miasma of a storm, raw energy flowing around them both. If Daniel had a meal, it would be better. As the yellow energy pours out from Bolivar, the detective leans in hard as the counter attack comes. The upper cut is hooked by a hand, in order to deflect away from the throat, as Daniel pushes for the offense. But that's a mistake, Daniel knows it. Deflection doesn't serve for precision. The finger comes up as the precise strike connects, as the blow hits the muscle. There is a snap, and a searing as the jaw goes limp... and sears with pain. The whirlwind of energy comes as the form of Daniel becomes a long shadow, cast across the Interpol agent.

And Daniel swallows it.

Metaphorically speaking, of course. Daniel's mouth wasn't really... working for anything but drooling white spittle right now. The light winks out around him, the shadow yields, as restraint comes down hard. Daniel fights hard to swallow the pain and bitterness and the raw nerves of instinct that was around him. "Take it easy, scuzzy." The detective tries to mutter to himself, to himself. It came out more like a 'ah guh ah gu' as the pain of speech overtakes him. What did he HIT. Take it easy... No Daniel. I won't take it easy. We all won't take it easy. There is a telltale shudder, a telegraph.

And Daniel jerks towards Bolivar.

It was almost like a puppet; every movement comes with more power than substance. A palm strike from the left surges forward as the reality of this possession takes place: it wasn't. The hand chop comes roaring in with the right, as he attempts to overtake Bolivar's position. Should both come roaring in, the detective would sweep his arms together... and mist and fire would encircle around Bolivar as the detective would go for the offending arm. He would wrench and twist, to force the fellow Interpol agent facedown to the ground with an armlock. He would hold him in place.

And he didn't know what he would do next if he got him there.

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the veins of the burning blood.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Daniel [E]       1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar interrupts Skiffle Drop from Daniel with Dragging Limb Flip.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Daniel [E]       1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar fades backwards after the strike, noticing Daniel's puppet movements as he dances with the freak that still has some of Daniel inside. The handchop comes in and slams into his neck, Bolivar bending backwards with his leg skidding across the ground to brace himself between the overbearing fiend. Bolivar clenches his teeth shut as he pulls his arm away before it can be taught, and slaps his free hand into the sweeping arms. Diez grasps the wrist with both hands, and pivots about with his torso, churning to shift his footing to turn Daniel to the side and yank Daniel into the arch of his flexing shoulder as he shoves his weight into Daniel. And then, a flip over Bolivar, as Bolivar falls to his knees with the beast flipped onto the side, by its arm. Bolivar releases the arm, and rises to his feet, flicking his wrists again, before his hands resume fist clenches and rise to a guarded return position.

[DANIEL]
Keep Steady.

I can watch my movements. I can see my mistakes. I can see every misstep. You're being too aggressive. You have to be steady. You have to be balanced. You are letting yourself stay open for the counter attacks. You are letting yourself stay open for the counter pivot. I know these moves. You know these moves. And you are screwing this up. And I still not behind the wheel?

You are not.

I'll handle this, Daniel.

The relentless assault comes to an end prematurally as the staggering hand chop comes crashing into Bolivar's collarbone. What should have come was an arm lock. Instead, it was a reversal. The detective is sent pivoting over, flipped over and slammed on his side. Daniel growls unconsciously, writhing as he doesn't stand up, but rises up with the swirling black mist. Slipping backwards, the energy flows around as Daniel sweeps his arms. "Aawaaa" Was the dead mouth parroting, as the red and orange light around him dims and draws inwards. The black mist still hang heavy as he draws in a breath, lifting his arms high. With a slam, he brings them down with a cataclysmic shockwave, red and orange ripping through a sea of black mist in a semi-circle around him. That part was different. but something things weren't as he unleashes the attack with Exhalation.

"KASANE ATE!" Was the snarl.

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Daniel [E]       1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar blocks Daniel's Chou Kasane Ate.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar backpedals rapidly as the black mist gathers, and the arm sweep comes. He knows this Todoh-Ryu technique, as warped as it is coming from Daniel's tortured body. Bolivar drops to his knee and slams his opposite fist to the ground, letting the wave of energy that slides along the ground strike his knee and fist, instead of his ankles. His fist and knee sizzles as he rises to his feet, shaking his burnt hand off as he grimaces, a look of pained distaste on the Latino's face. He stands there, rolling his shoulders, before he rushes forward at Daniel, rapidly closing the distance with yellow energy swirling around him as he takes on a blurring quality, speeding at Daniel to make up the distance that the Kasane Ate created.

"HAAAAAAAA!" he screams, and he swings his foot upwards in a front kick, aimed at Daniel's jaw.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the glare of the vicious eye.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/--=====|=======\===----\1      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Daniel just-defends Bolivar's Toe Kick!

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

[DANIEL]
Distortion.

It was a distortion of my technique. If it was anybody else, it would be a beast trying to reach out. But this is my technique, my skill, my talents. I could watch and see and critique. But with the bloodlust as it is, I could do nothing. The blast is enough to drive him back, but even then it is unnatural power. This was a corruption of pure force.

And was what it took to take his Souls, Daniel.

The aftermath comes, and the detective was already recovered. Typical of the detective's technique, in spite of the offensive aggression, he was refusing to overextend himself. Make risky openings? Absolutely. But he was not off balanced at any point. His mouth muscles still were not formed, but his cut on his face was almost completely healed now. Black mists were oozing from his body, mingling with the orange and crimson energy whirling around him. His fellow agent was coming back, unleashing a blur. Instincts overtake Daniel; he could no longer see. But he could feel, he could sense, and when the front kick is unleashed, his own hands move in a blur.

And Daniel catches the foot.

It starts with one hand, catching it in perfect timing. But by the time the second hand comes on it, the detective draws in a heavy breath. The black mists were enveloping around Bolivar. And for a moment, Daniel could taste it. The souls. His souls. The red gem in his palm begins to burn bright on the foot. Just wrench it. Just twist it from the socket. The detective's grip tightens, telegraphing what was coming. And he surges back, to knock Bolivar on his back, to pin him down on the ground...

Before trying to dislocate his leg from his socket in a singular, crippling wrench.

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the strength of the killing fist.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the spread of the lightning nerves.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Daniel successfully hits Bolivar with Mad Jack Crack EX.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1      [E] Bolivar

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar's eyes widen as the foot is caught, and attempts to pull away as the mists wrap around him and he feels the souls. But he has no leverage. He screams in fear and agony and pain as he's spun around by his leg and knocked to the ground, his leg getting wrenched out of place slowly but surely, the certain death coming over him as his screams of pain and hatred echo throughout the Living Forest, responded to by the moans of the trees that watch the battle silently. His entire chakra structure disrupted by his leg's dislocation, he swings around with what little strength he has, punching and punching and punching, over and over again, trying to fight back against the abomination that was once Detective Daniel Little. But his punches grow slower and fainter, as he feels shock coming on.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the strength of the killing fist.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
Daniel [E]       0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1      [E] Bolivar

COMBATSYS: Bolivar can no longer fight.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Daniel [E]       0/-------/=======|

COMBATSYS: Daniel channels the veins of the burning blood.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Daniel [E]       1/----===/=======|

COMBATSYS: Daniel interrupts Panther Rage from Bolivar with Fantastic Todoh Punch EX.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Daniel [E]       0/-------/-----==|

[DANIEL]
The thrill.

The moment the scream comes, Daniel feels himself rushing into control. The sheer escatasy of hearing Bolivar scream so purely, so magnificantly, was the greatest fix that Daniel had ever felt. It was like torturing the guards, the animals, but more personal. It was the personal effect that disgusted Daniel. For a moment, he could feel, he could control himself. And when he could control himself, he could feel... regret. The regret of coming to this point. As he breaks that chakra, the man starts punching and punching, still fighting back. Daniel Jack tries to let go. But no, Daniel. You aren't going to let go. We have to feed. Black and Orange and Crimson energy washes around him as he stands fast in the face of the final assault, mouth watering as the soul charges are squeezed out. He licks his chops, as he waits, and waits, and takes bruise after bruise.

And the moment they start to slow down?

It is like hitting a switch.

The detective explodes into Bolivar, contrails of black mist and crimson fire following him as he hooks a singular punch straight into the other detective's gut. Sweeping the Latino off his feet, the detective flies through the air with his victim, jetting along the burst of chi energy. He carries his target towards the nearest target, a singular warped tree with a visage of a man. With the initial rocket, Daniel smashes the pair of them into a Living Tree... and through it. And through another one. And a third tree is smashed into as the trajectory adjusts, bringing Daniel Jack and his target into a shallow ditch as he crashes into the soil again. The impact brings him to a rest, as the contrails of energy surge over the pair of them. Daniel Jack stands over Bolivar, hunched over the man. The palm with the red gem was over the Latino's head, as Daniel Jack stares with his yellow eyes, and bared teeth. He was breathing hard. "Tell me, scuzzy..." Was the growl.

"Did that hurt?"

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar emits a choked scream as he's sent flying through the living trees of the forest, before he finds himself in a ditch, beneath the beast that is now Daniel. He looks up at the palm with the red gem, blood leaking from his mouth on either side, his teeth and lips crimson red with his own fluids. His eyes roll about as his head lolls, before he looks at Daniel in the eye, staring at him. "Daniel Little's flaw was always his unwillingness to kill," he hisses. "He was a hypocrite that was no better or worse than those he hunted. He was a slave to corruption since he could not take a corrupt life." He spits at the beast, right in the eyes. "Your flaw is that you need to control Little, instead of letting him make the choice that would make him a soldier, and not a warrior." He grins and lets his head lean backwards, staring at the soul swirling sky.

[DANIEL]
It should have been the end.

The sweet bliss of the torment was at the climax. Daniel Jack just needed to deliver the coup de grace, and split him upon for the rich souls. It was a perfect end. Even the gem found company as the souls were beginning to draw away, flowing in power from Bolivar's own. It was over now. Just cut off his head. But I realized that in my hedonistic ectasty, I made a grave error. I was not in control. I could not even see now. And that meant that Daniel was in control, in command. And for a moment, I thought I could do nothing. And then the victim... starts speaking.

Unwillingness to kill.

Hypocrite.

Anger boils deep inside Daniel's heart, as Bolivar's words cut to the bone. I don't need to control Daniel. I don't need it. I know the darkness that lays in Daniel's heart. And so do I. I feel it, and I see it. But you cannot. You will not. But you will. Daniel Jack gritted his fangs as he stared down at the prone Bolivar.

Kill him.

The crimson energy finishes drawing the souls away from Bolivar's gem, the victory conceding to the him. If he wanted more, he would need to milk it out. Milk it out through a brutal fatality, right? Now is the time. And yet, Daniel could listen to Bolivar, and he could see, and hear, and taste. And his fellow Interpol agent... didn't even see him as Daniel anymore. He was just a monster. It's too late for him.

Kill him.

"I-" Daniel sputters, taking a step back. "I am not... a hypocrite. I'm a good man. I'm a good man Bolivar. I just-" He looks around him, the destruction, the suffering, the... the fellow Interpol agent he nearly killed. He should be killing, you fucking coward. "I just need to get things under control, Bolivar. I can't kill you, I won't. It's... it's wrong. I just need to revive the others. And everything will be... everyhing will be." It's wrong. It's wrong. And you know what Daniel? I think it feels right.

And Daniel feels the energy surge around him.

He feels himself taking the steps towards the downed Bolivar. He couldn't kill him. But the Lady Killer could. And he would. He would bisect him with the energy waves. Or maybe just atomize him with wave after wave. Or just start breaking him piece by piece. So many ways. And all at his finger tips. He was going to kill Bolivar. The detective lowers down, as he groans. "I'm sorry... I not as strong... as I think I am..." He was ready to pounce. His heel twists in the dirt.

And Daniel leaps.

He bounds over the downed form of Bolivar. And as he lands, he runs. He runs because he can. Because he can tell his legs to run. Because you can. Because I'm drunk off the glorious suffering, you can take advantage of me. You can take advantage of us. You think you can pull this off again? The brush and trees flash past Daniel Jack as he forces into the forest, forced into... somewhere. Where are you going Daniel? He's right you know. A Hypocrite. We all can't stay fed for long. Soon we'll be hungry again. And next time, Daniel?

We're not gonna let you ruin this for us.

COMBATSYS: Daniel has ended the fight here.

Log created on 15:55:57 11/06/2016 by Daniel, and last modified on 12:36:13 11/08/2016.