Description: Okay you crazy ass mofos. I want to make something clear. Mama's in a safe place, far away from the house that I got her, and let her live in. If any of you crazy ass mofos ever threaten my family again? There is gonna be a town. And you wanna know what's in that town? What's in that town is pounds. I don't care if you are some kind of hannibal lector dude who cuts me up and talks about the lambs or something. I am gonna pound you into the town of pounds.
"Hey Mama, I'm almost there!"
Those are the words from Marduk as he drives through the Sydney streets late at night. He was in his big black purple hummer convertible; of course with the top down. In one hand, was the wheel to the car. In the other? A smart phone, plugged right to his ear. "Yeah, I know, I already called you when I got off the plane. But I wanted you to know that I was heading straight to you." Another pause. "No mama, I wasn't gonna stop over at any of those floozies. You're my first girl in Sydney!" Marduk was keeping his attention split between the road and his phone, his eyes aside in the darkness. The highbeams were transfixed on the road, as he drove past the luxury homes. Marduk takes his hand off the wheel briefly, touching his swollen right eye.
"Nah, that Carrot Top didn't do anything to me!"
The luxury home he picked out for his Mama finally comes up on his high beams, at the end of the road. Only the best for Mama; of course, it was Marduk's house too, but it was a positive relationship between the two. Mama lives in a nice home, and Marduk keeps tabs on her... and she keeps tabs on him. No floozies brought home. He puts his hand on the wheel again. "Of course I didn't eat anything yet mama. I wanted to keep myself hungry for your good home cooking." He pulls up into the parking lane, past the shrubberies and flowers that the gardener put there with Mama's supervision, as he gives on last word to his mother before hanging right on up.
"I love you too Mama!"
Since the sorceries that infest his soul called him forth from the dungeons of torment that rot his mind and keep in his forlorn state, he has taken an interest, first in Hitomi, now in Craig Marduk. Hitomi is beyond sin - she refuses to stray from the path of that that learns wisdom towards their elder years, and in the meantime partakes in humble acts for the betterment of those around her, without the arrogance of martyrdom that drives others to accumulate congregates. But Craig Marduk? A man of personality. A man of the people. And in that imbalance, that Freeman once regarded as a polluted soul, the former Scotland Yard investigator has detected a faint glimmer of white, even silver. But not the platinum of the German mountain girl. No, Craig fought to keep someone dear to him, safe from harm and happy. And she was his soul, just as he was her heart. And if he split them in twain? Then he would take two souls. It was thirst that drove this monstrous whim, to a person that did not know the mindset, that would be comparable. Certainly, before he was freed from the constraints of man and enslaved by sorcerer's dictates, he would've seen it that way. The ancient comparison to a vampire was always on his mind when he was an arbitor of justice. But now, he understood it.
Misery loves company. C'est la vie.
There's a distant buzz, as the power cuts out, the lights of the house going dead. And then a whipcrack of electricity, followed by a pop, as the entire block begins to flicker on and off, the pole across the house sparking and snapping as something slides through the air with distant friction. And then, a thump on the ground, as Freeman lands there, in a loose bodied crouch, his blue rags hanging about his pale body as his orange hair slouches over his eyes. But through them, one can see red motes, as Freeman rises to a standing posture, across the street from Craig. Black crows flap about him, made of nothingness but given form with dark spells, the eyes of many pleased spectators viewing Marduk through them with piercing fate born through them.
"Hello, Craig," comes a soothing voice from between them, as if neither of the individual beings matters. "I thought I'd join you for dinner. How does your mother prefer the fattened calf? Veal is cruel to only those who do not understand the old ways of Israel."
COMBATSYS: Freeman has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Marduk has joined the fight here.
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Freeman 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk was just parking his car, when the power goes out.
Within the house. there was a woman's scream. Marduk's reaction, initially relaxed, suddenly accelerates. Marduk leaps from the car, landing outside. He was going to rush in to Mama... until the spark comes. He turns, instincts haywire as his mind and perceptions struggle to make sense of what was happening around. He looks across the street. It was just a weirdo. Or that would have been the thought, except the man says his say. And he makes the one word. And suddenly, Marduk's panick focuses squarely on the stranger.
There is a baritone rising.
A deep, bass rumble. It wasn't audible; things of this nature was not audible. Things like this were an essence. The very fabric was carrying these subatomic sounds, this noise that was functioning on the very borders of reality. Marduk's own gaze transfixes on the red lights as the crows manifest. It wasn't the being of the man. It was his words. 'Mother.' A man has knocked out the power, and has invoked the name of his mother. And Marduk' for all his sins, had a line he did not cross. And this stranger had stepped so far past it, that Marduk just flexes his arms. There is a popping sounds, as his shirt explodes.
Marduk finally states with the firmness of a bolt of titanium.
"YOU HAVE DONE F-"
The entire weight of Marduk rage pauses a moment, teetering with the elegance of an oil tanker balancing on a needle point.
"YOU HAVE DONE MADE A MISTAKE"
The rage continues unabated. Marduk wanted to watch his language, cause Mama was already gonna be worked up at the power outage. Right now, Marduk's priority was mama. And right now, this man had done and presented himself as a threat to mama. Right now, someone could just -taste- the sheer righteous fury. Marduk's eyes couldn't burn like that man. But the shapeless figure in the moonlight was nearly ablaze as it rushes into the heart of fear itself. If Freeman was looking for the kind of reaction Hitomi should have?
He was going to receive that kind of reaction in spades.
Marduk's feet start slapping as the steps rip apart his fine leather by the passionate footwork. Marduk was beelining it to Freeman, stampeding towards him from the car. You could almost taste the froth in his mouth. He wasn't going to even attempt finesse. Marduk was going to dip down and seize the fell soul that grace his family household. And should he get a grip? He would carry him along to another electric pole, and slam him through it. Not into it. Through it, with bone-cracking fury of unrelenting hot fury. Marduk had some choice words for this man's mistake.
He just didn't know if he could muster them before or after he cooled down from this righteous insult.
COMBATSYS: Freeman counters Power Throw from Marduk with Nightmare.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Marduk
Freeman slowly turns his hands open, splaying his fingers as his arms dangle at his sides, an uneven slouch displayed across his shoulders as his head tilts to the right. This is accompanied by his mouth creeping up the left side of his face, an eye peering through at Marduk from between his locks. As he observes the efficacy of the intonation of Marduk's mother, he can only feel pleased that some of his old life is still useful, this disordered personality, so full of self-loathing projected onto himself instead of its rightful source, his mother, so much easier to play with than Hitomi. He would come for her later. And, the best part about it?
Marduk was free press.
As Marduk came charging forward, Freeman slowly raised an arm, extending his long, narrow, thin finger before his soft, thin mouth, with a shush gesture, his eyes half-lidding. As the beast of steel muscle came rampaging at him, Freeman dropped his arm again, putting his left foot forward, his right arm back, merely watching. Marduk was coming to him. Very good. His red eyes stared at Marduk as Marduk stared at him, that half smile still on his face, with a bit of oddness, Freeman deliberately mimicking an older woman appraising a younger man with his facial contenance, complete with a soft toss of his hair as Marduk closed in for the grab.
And then, out came Freeman's right arm, thrusting forward into Marduk with a lunge. His fingers, lined with vorpal sharp black chi, shoved into Marduk's lower rip, stabbing his fingernails into the outer edge to spin Marduk to the ground with a slash along his side to give him a slice, a narrow, sucking slice, along his chest.
And then, as Marduk came past with the slice deployed, Freeman elegantly and eloquently stepped around his opponent, his left foot going back and around, Freeman spinning around on that foot as well as his entire body, as if a ballerina, before he came to a halt, facing his slashed foe.
"I brought my own cutlery, lamb. Does the lady in your home enjoy mutton?"
Marduk had expected, at worst, to be nimbly evaded. But as he thunders in, it seemed that the stranger was capable of so much more. As he rushes in, the red-haired stranger not only dances around his grasps, but returns the favor with lacerations in the flesh. Marduk only then dimly recognizes that something worse was here, not just a threatening creep. The deep cuts ran deeper than the flesh, piercing where there was barely any guard. Only rage and endurance. Blades couldn't even cut this deep. The only saving grace?
Marduk had so much more meat to offer.
"NOW LISTEN HERE ASSHOLE!" Was the wrestler's outcry as he seizes his chest, turning towards the graceful, taunting figure. This man was dangerous. MArduk didn't recognize just how dangerous, especially the hints towards his mother. The price to confront the unsubtle. "MY MAMA AIN'T GONNA HAVE ANY MEAT WITH YOU!" Marduk raises the hand to his face, and smells it. "THE ONLY THING YOU GONNA HAVE." Marduk seethes, as he rips his bloodied hand away.
"IS A BEEF WITH ME!"
And Marduk comes rumbling in.
The titan of a man has been bit already, and fortunately, that means some space for the stranger. Marduk doesn't go for the full contact takedown this time. What comes instead was a more even, controlled approach. The brutish brawler comes in with a combination: a thundering right cross, chained into a halting low blow, aiming to catch Freeman on the rise. The assault would end with a staggering uppercut, aiming to blow Freeman away, to send him packing. The message was clear. If Freeman wanted someone to toy with.
Marduk was an invigorating plaything.
COMBATSYS: Freeman blocks Marduk's Raging Beast.
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Freeman 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Marduk
Freeman flicks his hand to the side, blood drops splattering outwards from his fingertips. He backpedals away from Marduk slowly and languidly, with a feminine and also feline slide to his posture as he observes Craig posture before him, watching his rival fighter very carefully as his clockwork orange of a mind analyzes Craig's movements and statements, through the kaleidoscope of bloodlust and madness that has overtaken the once honorable man. As if he was a spider, watching a fly manuever around a web in the corner of an old basement. And as Craig comes at him, the opportunity comes once again for the spider to dance with the fly.
Craig's fist surges upwards, met by Freeman's arms crossed before his chin. Freeman rises into the air nonetheless, and is sent spiralling upwards and backwards, twisting about before he lands in a heap, on his shoulders. He rolls out of it, to his feet, and thrusts his arms out at his sides, palms forward again and fingers spread, black chi bursting around him in the darkness enscouncing the neighborhood during the power blackout. The chi ripples with a crimson penumbra behind it as he walks towards Craig, lurching forwards as he shows his yellow teeth.
"Your mother is watching through the window right now, Craig Marduk. Watching you die on your feet."
He takes five steps at Craig, swift and leaping, his gaunt frame dancing over the pavement as he approaches. And then, at the last moment, as he steps before Craig, he bursts into black crows and flies all around Craig, reshaping behind him, with a slash of his vorpal claw fingers at Craig's back.
COMBATSYS: Freeman successfully hits Marduk with Morbid Angel.
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Freeman 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk didn't like being afraid. But in the haze of anger, there was so much wrong with this. As the words coil around him, it was almost confusing. Marduk didn't understand why he was so sort. As the barrage of fists comes to a close, he tries to keep his footing together. But as the surging claws and darkness come ripping at him, he doesn't even know how to defend against it. Another clean, carving hit draws along his arms before reaching around, rending his back open with deep, flowing wounds. It hurts. It hurts badly.
But Marduk only groans in fury.
"MAMA IS WATCHING ME YOU PUNK A- YOU JUNK BUTT LOSER!" Marduk is quick to adjust his language. If mama was watching, she would never forgive that kind of language around earshot of Mama. He turns, bleeding from front to back. He was bleeding, bleeding bad. Uncertainty held in his future, instead of a nice meal with his mama. But Marduk wasn't here for despair. His mama was watching him.
He had to try harder.
"WHY THE HEL- HECK YOU COME AROUND MY HOUSE ANYWAYS! YOU BLEED ME, YOU THREATEN MY MAMA, YOU GOT SOME KIND OF DEATH WISH?!" Marduk's bellowing doesn't wake the neighbors. They were used to this, tuning it out. Bleeding, bleeding, deeper than bone. Marduk might find himself consumed by more than just the carving of the flesh. But his mind couldn't even perceive what was happening. What Freeman was doing was art.
And what Marduk was doing was artless.
The feeble remains of the guard collapse as Marduk lunges in again. The rage was being met with careful pacing now, as Marduk had been bit too hard. The flicker of fear was flashing over him, as he considers the things closest to him, his mama and himself, could be in mortal danger. The reaction of a terrifed buffalo was just as dangerous as an enraged one. But for now, with restraint, Marduk was testing his opponent, trying to rip out an opening steadily. Surely. A jabbing punch, not even fully in, right for the gleaming yellow of the stranger's teeth. Freeman was gaining ground.
And Marduk was losing it.
COMBATSYS: Marduk successfully hits Freeman with Quick Punch.
- Power hit! -
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Freeman 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Marduk
Freeman clenches his teeth shut and takes the jab full bore, stumbling backwards a step at the force of the blow. His head snaps back into place and he grins at Craig, his eyes closing faintly in a mockery of female seduction, squinting along the outer edges. He tips his head forward, arms back and hands ready, as dances to the right, Craig's left, forcing Craig to look at him with his aiming eye aglance from his dominant hand. It is also, in communications psychology, the side of an individual to approach when you want them combative.
"I am merely a fan, Mister Marduk," the Freeman explains, before he lashes out with an open hand, attempting to grab Craig beneath the shoulderblade, at the upper tricep. "I am curious, why do you need such needful things as ego and boastfulness, when all it does is bring shame to your mother?"
He spins about in an attempt to lift Marduk's arm up above him as he ducks down, before he drops in for a kick at Marduk's knee, from the side, releasing the arm as he spins about to face away and jam his heel in from a spinning outward angle.
"Is Oedipus blind in the mirror?" he asks with an amused hiss.
COMBATSYS: Marduk Toughs Out Freeman's Light Kick!
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Freeman 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marduk
It felt good to connect.
The moment as the fist closes in, Marduk instinctively steps in. A beast, yes. But as he grins back, Marduk didn't have that flicker of fear in him. No, in the ring and out of the ring, he was a fighter. And there was the opening. There was the shift. He wasn't wholely unaware of the grinning. But he wasn't slowing down as he forces in. He swings his other arm, building the pressing offense.
And Freeman ducks under.
Marduk has choices. He could stand fast. Or he could disengage. The jabbing kick was too fast to do anything meaningful, defensively. Marduk could have pushed off, as the pressure builds around him. But maybe Freeman could feel the shift. It wasn't rage, no. It was an outlet. He found his opening. And he was gonna pour the full Marduk in. When Freeman says he brings shame to his mother? It cuts as deep as every bleeding out cut in him. Anger was the only tonic for pain. As the leg drives deep into his knee, he stumbles just enough to make the impact. But he wasn't slowing down.
Not at all.
"Aw hell no."
"AW HELL NO!"
"Don't you be pulling that BULL that you ar esome kind of FAN!" "A -real- fan wouldn't be scaring my mama! You're just some kind of HANNIBAL LECTOR PSYCHO that's gonna try and eat mama with fava beans or some shi- stuff like that. I DIDN'T MEAN THAT MAMA!" He bellows out loudly.
He needed to be more considerate of mama in times like these.
Marduk doesn't disengage from the stranger in these close quarters. No, he keeps throwing himself in. He felt that connect. He felt that hit. He wasn't a ghost, he wasn't a demon, he was mortal. A man? Maybe not. But if he was mortal, he could bleed. He could bleed, and he could break. "And you better BEWARE of the MIRROR, cause when I'm through with you? You're gonna BREAK MIRRORS!" Marduk would press his momentum by seizing up Freeman by his legs, and lifting him up. And there? He would slam Freeman down on the ground hard, face first, right where he hit that jaw before. Make a crack in the opponent's guard, and tear that opening... open. And there, he would give a follow up punch, before finishing the combination by grabbing his leg, and wrenching it -hard- at the knee joint. A brutal assault.
But only if he managed to wrench him up...
COMBATSYS: Marduk successfully hits Freeman with Knee Bar.
~ Cruel hit! ~
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Freeman 1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0 Marduk
Freeman rises up to a standing position again, his shoulders hunched up and forward, his fingers sensually gliding in undulating patterns as knives of black chi flicker over his bitten fingernails. Freeman grins widely, teeth apart, at Craig's reaction as Marduk shouts in his face, watching Marduk's pattern of regressing into childhood, the standard discourse he's shown over his interviews that Freeman's witnesses, become suitably more stiff and angry. Slowly going from a child trying to be a father, to a crying child becoming a borderline abusive husband. All it took to spot was the incremental tick-tocking into curse words that his mother apparently didn't approve of. 'Never got old, did you, Craig?' one of the sorcerors watching notes to himself, a flurry of *caw* sounds from the swirling black crow shapes that flutter about them in the sky, their forms glimmering in the night air against the clouds above.
Freeman is lifted by his legs and slaps his palms on Marduk's shoulders as he lurches over him, before he's flipped about and slamming into the ground, smashing into the pavement as his body becomes a limp sack of bone and flesh, not resisting the pain but adapting to it. The punch sinks into him, as if striking loose meat in a warm sack, before the knee bends and twists with a sickly snappling of cartilidge.
Freeman drops to the ground, leg shaking as he pushes himself upwards. He nearly falls twice as he gets up, dragging the wounded knee behind him, his leg twisted out to the side as he comes to his feet. He begins snickering, giggling, a low, pained sob forced backwards into the whispering chuckles as he tremors with pain.
"Are you afraid I'll eat you inside, father?"
He swings around with his hand, a single finger lashing out at Craig's throat with a knife line of chi extending from his fingertip.
COMBATSYS: Marduk barely endures Freeman's Creeping Death+.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
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Freeman 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Marduk
As Marduk finishes with the leg wrench, he was already matching Freeman's movement with beautiful synergy. Marduk was a trained wrestler; he wasn't simply brute force. He was a LOT of brute force, but it wasn't just that. Marduk was expecting a lot in these close quarters. A lot of push back.
But not the laughter.
From the taunting of saying he never got old, to the cackling, to the threat of eating him inside? Father? Marduk was actually... stunned. He couldn't see the trembling of pain. He could only see the madness and the cackling, the sheer bizarre cruelty of his opponent. He just peers at him. And asks the question. "What are you?"
The response is a singular, precise throat slit.
Marduk's response doesn't make sense. But what can make sense when a man was lashing at your throat? The singular line tears. Marduk's instincts have to come in milliseconds. And his instincts compel him: Move forward. Marduk doesn't recoil. He doesn't stand fast. He leans, bringing his leg around. The slice carves across his neck. Through his windpipe. The reason it avoid his artery, for the coup de grace? Because of the sheer meat, and Marduk? Marduk was not in full rage, with his muscles tense. But the impact in made. Marduk tries to speak. And nothing comes. He just continues his pivot, leaning back, as a growing panic consumes him. He unleashes a kick, a swift kick in the ribs, to knock Freeman away. To give space. Marduk needed space.
He couldn't breath right.
He couldn't BREATH right.
COMBATSYS: Marduk successfully hits Freeman with Light Kick.
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Freeman 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Marduk
The foot smashes Freeman's ribs as his body caves backwards and he falls away, landing on his back like so many wooden sticks bundled in a bag for a bonfire. He rolls to his side, his leg still gaunt and twisted, as he pushes himself back up to his feet, dragging it along as his arms sway about him to face Marduk again. He wheezes, left hand on his chest as he hangs there, body sagging about his struck body parts as he stares at Marduk with a grimacing smile.
"What am I?"
He slides forward with his good leg, the wounded behind him, an inhuman, ethereal grace to the movement as he blinks into blackness for a quick moment. His left arm shoots out at Marduk's shirt, attempting to clasp it for a lift into the air above him with unusual strength for his spindly body.
"I am one man, with two souls. Or perhaps one soul, inside two men."
Should he succeed in holding Marduk up, his hand shoves out at Marduk's stomach, for a thrust of his fingers into Marduk's guts, attempting to open up his insides for a bloody wound that will leak for some time.
COMBATSYS: Marduk blocks Freeman's Gore Fest.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Marduk
Not even a sound. No sound comes out. It couldn't. Marduk could barely breath. As the recoil of the kick comes out, he tries to understand what was happening, as his victim ragdolls away. He could feel every impact, every blow. But the reactions was a kind of hungry glee. He liked this. How could he like this? What did he like? Marduk didn't want to keep looking into this freak's eyes. But as he slides forward like a ghost, the left arm lashes out for the tatters of Marduk's shirt.
Marduk is held up, for a moment. But as the other hand comes, he brings his own hand to catch it. The rending goes to the flesh, ripping into his stomach. But Marduk.... Marduk ignores it. He ignores everything now, because he couldn't breath. The limitations on his body only left him with his mind. And while there was inner light of resolve, not compared to others, he didn't want this. He rips himself up and over, stomach bleeding lightly as he hits the ground with a tumble. He rises up. He couldn't breath. He was going faint. Desperate, Marduk brings a hand to his throat.
And only then, can he manage a sound.
"Psycho. You are some kind of psycho, who's gonna hurt me, hurt me and my mama." Marduk says with a rasp. He couldn't raise his voice. It was almost a whisper; if not in tone. Marduk was in a terrible condition. Freeman might have been battered. But Marduk was becoming carved up. The stranger was carving him up. He was going to have to go to a hospital. But he wouldn't, he couldn't. There was something more important. Mama. The moment he left here? Mama was in danger. The moment he wasn't looking? Mama was in danger. This man, by the effort of existing, had now damned Marduk's mama with a reaper's scythe over her head. Marduk's family was in danger. And Marduk... Marduk couldn't allow that. "Why did you come here? Who sent you? What sent you? WHAT THE HE-"
The roar silenced him, his damaged throat unable to muster. But Marduk's mind was building into a cresendo. His wounds were nothing. His body was nothing. For all it's presence, Marduk had to. He manages a growl again, a croak. "-She'll never be safe, unless you are dead. None of us. Holy shit I am gonna have to kill again." Marduk says with the hint of fear. Of shock. Of disgust. Kill again. Marduk takes in a deep breath, the wind running through his fingers. He was focusing hard. Channeling the anger, the rage. "Holy shit. Alright. Alright you fucker. You god damn shitfucking assfuck titbutt." Marduk was building himself to the moment. "You want me to kill a fucker? "Well you're a fucker." Marduk gives one last word, before he pulls away the hand from his throat.
COMBATSYS: Marduk gathers his will.
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Freeman 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Marduk
Freeman watches Marduk's eyes with his own, his shoulders rising and falling as he feels his state in this fight, certainly reduced in fighting efficiency in comparison to Craig Marduk, despite Craig's throat wound. "I'm after your soul, Craig," Freeman whispers. "You've got a murder on your conscience, an act of rage. To find me, you'll have to make murder an act of premeditation. Do you know what that does to a man, to hunt and kill as a soldier would, without a leader ordering the carnage to damn themselves, instead of the lowly trooper?" He throws his head back, laughing, as he lurches forward with a slash directed at Marduk's face, his fingers ghosting outwards with long, black claws of sharp, steel nail hard spikes, crimson light trailing behind them.
"It makes a man evil. You are going to lose your mama, Craig, in a way you will soon understand. And if you refuse to hunt, then I will take her. And if you hide her for the rest of your life, you will both be in poverty, without so much money as to afford even red beans.
He swirls about after the slash is delivered, moving into a crouching position, his leg causing his left side to shake with pain and quivering agony.
COMBATSYS: Marduk blocks Freeman's Medium Punch.
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Freeman 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marduk
He had his say.
Marduk can't speak. He still can't speak. But right here, as he stands fast, fighting for air, palms out, he stares. And he listens. After his soul. Dimly, almost instinctively, he knows what he is saying. Marduk smashes aside the claws, deflecting it with his own limbs. The lacerations are deep. The cuts to his center even deeper. How did he know that he was going to hide her? Marduk's fear was rising. But Freeman keeps threatening his mama. As he goes into the crouch?
Marduk, at this moment, had nothing between him and his mind. He was charging, blazing upon Freeman. His frame casts a long shadow in the dim moonlight, as he descends. His eyes were locked on him, his jaw twisted into a jutting grimace of fury. He couldn't make words. He couldn't even whisper. He could just think, just think a burrowing hole. Marduk's body was falling apart, drop by blood drop, slice by flesh slice. Pieces by quivering pieces. But right now, he didn't recognize the pain. He didn't recognize the fear. He didn't recognize anything right now, except the stranger. He dips low.
And he moves for the takedown, aiming for Freeman's knees, to lift him up.
COMBATSYS: Marduk successfully hits Freeman with Skull Crusher.
[ < > /////////// ]
Freeman 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk rips the man off his feet, up by the knees. And with that, he slams Freeman down hard on his back. Marduk doesn't hesitate. He descends upon Freeman, sitting on him for the pin. And there, he begins to punch. Left. Right. Left. Right. Again and again, Marduk begins to build himself into the crescendo. Hot rage boils over as he catches Freeman in the ground and pound, the most infamous technique in Marduk's arsenal. Marduk couldn't even breath. But as each blow coils another layer of fury on him, he only accelerates, more and more.
And he wants to say something.
He grips the head of Freeman, and begins to wrench it, to crack it, snap it, slam his head again and again into the asphalt. But he wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him that he would never hurt mama. He would never hurt those people. He would never ruin his life. That mama would always love him. He wanted to tear open his soul, and pour his pain and rage into it. He wanted to tell him all that as he slams the head, again and again.
But Marduk releases the man's head.
And keel's over to the side, as he brings his hand to his throat.
Freeman becomes a ragdoll again as he's lifted off his legs, before being slammed down onto his back. His eyes, open and baleful, stare into Marduk's as he's pummeled back and forth, face becoming such a mess of blood and spit and gristle as he's pounded, his eyes lidding shut as they become bruised and black like the rest of his face, but his eyes still staring. And then, as his head is wrenched around and slammed into the pavement, he lays there, not struggling, merely being broken and twisted and maimed and crippled. Limp and lame, he lays on his back, slowly gurgling as Marduk gets off him, his head rolling to the side as he vomits up blood.
The black crow spectres flutter about Marduk as he turns to the side, landing before him, staring at him with red eyes.
Freeman lifts his right hand as he slowly turns to look back at Marduk, opening his fingers, as black and red chi swirls around his open hand. A red eye opens on his palm, and a huge lance of chi explodes from his arm, directed at Craig's back.
COMBATSYS: Freeman can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Marduk barely endures Freeman's Full Blast.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
He was vomitting blood.
Marduk grabs his throat again, and be breathes. He makes himself breath. He was feeling incredibly weak. The toll the stranger brought upon his body was pulling him apart. He had fought dangerous opponents before. But this one... Marduk felt his mind turning on him. Fear? This wasn't fear, this was trauma. He needed... he didn't know what the resolution to this was. For a moment, he keeps his attention away from the man. As the black crow flutters by, he fixes his attention on it, briefly.
And he explodes upon Marduk's back.
Marduk's instinct is to force through. Power through. Always power through. Barely, just barely, he is able to turn around, the fresh wound torn open on his back. And hand on his throat, eyes wide, he reacts. "DIE." He manages to make the sound. "ALREADY"
And lets out a staggering kick at Freeman's ribs.
In the distance, there wasn't the sound of sirens. There wasn't the sound of the police. A shadow hangs heavily over Marduk. Where were the police? Where were the authorities? Where was... anybody. Marduk breathes hard, stumbling around the darkened street. What was the ending to this? What was the outcome? What now? He looks around. "Mama." He says, dazed and bleeding.
"Where are you Mama?"
COMBATSYS: Marduk takes no action.
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Log created on 15:01:20 02/27/2017 by Marduk, and last modified on 16:14:34 03/15/2017.