Description: The 'R' Organization! A shadowy group of arms dealers and Orochi-blooded psychopaths who want to bring the world under the finely-polished heel of Rugal Bernstein! They've got boats! Guns! Jets! Limosines! And more money than your body has room for! Unfortunately, when Vice decides to try and sell the benefits of membership to this organization, it tends to turn into a savage beating with the basic promise that if you join, she might beat you slightly less. This sales pitch has proven convincing in the past, but when it comes to man-mountain 'MURDERHOUSE' Mick, will he be won over? Or will Vice's pitch fail to win the day?
Mick had been making himself at home under here, kindly making his case when various riffraff tried to muster up the balls to evict him. Made his case vigorously, with nailguns and barbwire.
Currently, the big man was sprawled against a dirty couch, his whire hockey mask on, but unstrapped for comfort's sake. Long black hair in his face, ripped jeans, steel toe boots, and a black sleevless shirt advertising motorcycles, partially hidden by the worn unbuttoned flannel shirt he was wearing. Bottle of beer in his left hand, half empty(How did he drink it, wearing a hockey mask?), and a bent aluminum bat on the dirty ground beneath his right hand. The previous 30 bottles smashed against the far wall should let one know what he'd been doing with his day today.
All in all, this was how MURDERHOUSE Mick relaxed. It was where he seemed to feel comfortable.
And suddenly, Mick is not alone.
There's a creeping sense of dread which follows Vice everywhere she goes. She is a brutal animal. A murderer. A monster. The large limousine which pulls up outside the bridge is completely incongruous with the surroundings, all sleek black curves and darkened windows. Vice is damned if she's going to travel in anything less than total luxury.
The sound of heels click as she walks under the bridge, entirely completely uncaring of the fact that anyone wearing a suit as nice as hers is just asking to be mugged. Perhaps *because* she exudes that aura of undeniable fear.
"You're a big man."
The words come at the same instant her shadow falls across his masked features. "So how come I'm looking down on you?"
A challenge. Everything in her low, sultry voice says 'Please take issue with that. Please try something.'
Mick felt it instantly. Shadow knows the night, the wasp knows the spider, and Mick knew that feeling. He'd glance up, almost lazily, his eyes just small pupils with no irises, and they glared up at her unblinkingly. He didn't move right away, just casually tossed that green bottle toward her feet, not caring that it smashed against the ground. After a moment, he got up to a better sitting position, slowly and patiently strapping his mask closed and tight. He let it cut into the skin, taking comfort in the pain.
"You know...it's the same everywhere I go."
Finally on, he took his fingerless gloves with metal plates over the knuckles, pulling them on as he stood, pacing around.
"Some self-important twat strolling on in, thinking that 'cause she took some karate lessons and threw a punch at Terry Bogard or whoever, that she can say anything she wants, to anyone she wants. And then I get my hands around her skinny little throat, and that changes real goddamn quick."
He continued to pace, looking at her, his movements as if he were some big cat, stalking through the jungle he owned.
"So, let me give you the chance you'll never be smart enough to take. Get back in yer shite little limo, and you won't discover what your blood and teeth taste like. Last chance, funbags."
'We need more people', Vice had thought 'I will get more people. How will I get them? Well, I will go and speak to them. This is a good idea.'
It all seemed so simple in Vice's head. Of course, the reality is, the moment she actually gets out there, all she wants to do is rip this man limb from limb.
Throughout the response, Vice just smiles, and smiles, and smiles. By the time he says the word 'funbags', it is practically a death's head grin. Well, it isn't like he's given her much choice! Everyone heard him! He wants to teach her what blood and teeth taste like!
She'll take his.
In an instant, Vice is on Murderhouse. How she's gone from standing in that suit to in front of him in the blink of an eye is a question that he will probably be asking himself; it definitely suggests that she's got more to her than 'some karate lessons'.
Mostly because her aim is to leap, and grab Murderhouse by the throat. If she gets that grip, the large man will find himself being brought /low/ again. Vice is stronger than any human has a right to be; her Orochi blood means that the trip she'll take him on, dragging him along the ground with her, will tear up the paving under the bridge and end with him being slammed into the side of the wall with enough force to crack the brickwork.
You know, if it occurs at all.
No words in response just yet, though; just a bark of short, angry laughter ... which will become a full on swell if everything goes as she would like.
COMBATSYS: Vice has started a fight here.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE has joined the fight here.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 MURDERHOUSE
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Gore Fest.
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Vice 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 MURDERHOUSE
Mick was taken on that trip, merely tensing his body before she grabbed him. the pavement looked like a Street Shark was traveling through it, and eventually, he was thrown into the wall so hard that little spiderweb fractures occured along the side. She caught him full flush, put his body through intense pain, so he should be falling, or groaning, or acknowledging the pain, right?
"Pretty good."
Instead, he almost instantly lurches from the impact zone, quickly 'rushing' her and tried to 'spin' behind her. Tried to grab her around the waist from the side, and hoist her up, only to drop her on her spine and head, a quick, deadlifting Suplex...but that wasn't all. If that first one hit, he'd roll into a standing position, hitting another one, and another one! And suddenly, he'd throw her upward, to smash her into the bottom of the bridge, and would catch her as she came down, in an improvised sort of 'Stunner' manuever. It was all sloppily done, but was designed to HURT.
And hopefully it hit.
COMBATSYS: Vice interrupts Chaos Theory from MURDERHOUSE with Nail Bomb.
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Vice 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 MURDERHOUSE
Vice doesn't try to get out of the way as Murderhouse Mick comes in to grab her. This might suggest that she's an amateur; maybe she's got freaky strength, but she got lucky! What sort of person lets a huge guy like Mick grab them, after all?
It isn't until the first suplex is underway that her nails are brought to bare. Both sets drive suddenly into Mick's sides, and in the same instant that he's trying, sloppily, to get her up... she's ripping around and upwards, tearing herself loose of the big man's grasp and painting her nails with his blood. She's still grinning as she brings them up to her lips.
"Mmm." She licks, her tongue flecked with droplets of blood.
"That's blood. Definitely blood. I like the taste of yours better than mine." Her eyes glimmer in the darkness, something animal, dangerous, in them.
"You want me to take some of your teeth too, big man? I might get carried away, might take your whole jaw, you're *exciting* me."
If this was Mature, the words might sound like a sultry come on. With Vice, they sound like a snarled warning. She is getting excited. Very excited. Rugal hasnt let her off her leash in a long time. Now, the world, as they say, is a target rich environment... and Mick is a very, very *big* target.
There was no denying it, Mick got carved up like a goddamn turkey. He in fact staggered back a little, parts of his flannel and shirt shredded, and red blood plasma pouring from his wounds. However, soon he charged back up, smoothly flipping the broken green bottle up with his foot, and grabbing it. Closing the distance, he'd try to grab her shoulder with his left hand, and jab the glass bottle forward with his right, trying to shove it, deep into her torso, to make a wound of his own. If it worked, and only IF it worked, would he say the following.
"Here's another hole you can flap all day, moron."
COMBATSYS: Vice endures MURDERHOUSE's Light Random Weapon.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 MURDERHOUSE
Vice is stabbed. The bottle breaks, and though it does cut her, it isn't very deep. She actually steps in closer to the broken glass, splintering it further and getting in nice and close to Mick as she does so.
Her hand then snaps up. The aim is to grab Mike's hand, and *squeeze* hard, introducing him to the reason glass bottles are dangerous to the wielder, too; a handful of broken shards.
If she manages to grab him and do that, she'll follow up by looping her leg behind his, and kicking hard at the back of his knee, and hopefully, bring his forehead down to a good enough level that she can *headbutt* him as hard as she can square on the nose. No words this time, either! Just good old fashioned violence.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE fails to counter Combo Grapple from Vice with Cemetary Gates.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 MURDERHOUSE
No words here, Mick's hand was squeezed, glass shards thankfully not making much progress due to his gloves. He was hooked down, and her head met hockeymask. He staggered back, in fact, falling to his back. Not due to so much pain, but rather, merely the lack of balance.
Vice looks down on Mick, and then flexes her fingers a couple of times. Her eyes are bright red, glaring down at the downed man-mountain. If she was Mature, she'd be able to control herself now. She *wants* to stop fighting him, and make the offer. She really does, somewhere! But she's not Mature. She's Vice. Mick is down, he's bleeding, he's injured.
One elegant heel swings backwards, and she snaps it forwards, and aims to crack her heel against Mick's jaw.
"Call me stupid again, big man, I dare you, I *double* dare you. I'll FEED you that mask, who'll look stupid then, huh?"
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Light Kick.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 MURDERHOUSE
Glaring up, Mick brought his head down, letting that foot smash against his forehead, rather than his jaw. His eyes rolled a little in his head, but seemingly woke him up, because in a split second he was back on his feet, grabbing at her, and trying to lift him over his head.
"Shut...the fuck...UP!"
Now, why was there a flaming table here? Who put that there? Who set it on fire, and why didn't anybody notice? All questions that went unanswered, as Mick tried to aim the skull, shoulders and neck of Vice, right through that flaming wood, and into the concrete underneath! Maybe, just maybe, Mick could still win this?
COMBATSYS: Vice blocks MURDERHOUSE's Hellfire Hammer.
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 MURDERHOUSE
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 MURDERHOUSE
As Vice is brought up, her hands go down. When she hits the ground, it is with a terrifying amount of force, but she takes it on her palms, ploughing through flaming wood and remaining stronger than concrete as she hits it. The impact makes spiderweb-thin lines spread out from the point where she hits the ground, but she herself still doesn't bend.
Instead, she twists, and tries to wrap her legs around Mick's neck. If she succeeds, she'll pivot, and drive him into the ground underneath her with all the force she can muster, aiming to wind up straddling the big man's neck, where she can glare down at him. She's now considering whether she should make good on her threat to take his jaw; that had hurt! Maybe he could hit her like that again! It is an exciting thought, he probably just needs the proper, motivation...
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Power Throw.
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Vice 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 MURDERHOUSE
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE takes no action.
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Vice 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE can no longer fight.
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Vice 0/-------/-======|
Came up, woozily, when her thighs wrapped around his neck, and his skull went plummeting into pavement. His eyes rolling around like cueballs, he looked up at the woman, still on him. He didn't move right away, just glaring up at her, before reaching up, to grab her around the waist, and throw her off of him before sitting back up. He didn't care how she landed, simply working to his feet.
"Is there a reason why you fucking came here, or was CVS out of Maxi-pads?"
Vice lets herself be thrown, coming to a controlled rest, she walks back over. She can hear Mick speaking, and if his aim was to stay on his feet, he's not doing a very good job of it.
Rather than a kick, this time, Vice aims to smash him upside the head with the back of her fist. She's not going to take any insults from this guy. She's hoping he'll keep fighting back, really.
"There was a reason." She says, "But now I'm just having fun. I wanted to offer you tons of money to kill people. Maybe you'd be happier under the bridge with no teeth and a few broken bones though."
He took a smashing blow across the side of his head, almost flipping from the impact. He hit the ground hard, fists clenched, back arched from the impact. But after a moment, he coughed blood through the holes of his mask, stirring as he struggled to roll over to his knees.
"Under a bridge with broken bones...or selling out for some shrill-voiced harpy? Not really a contest is it, love? If they decided sending a psycho to beat up possible recruits was cheaper than mailing a little business card...I think I'll pass."
He tried to focus his eyes, not sure why there were suddenly three of her...
Not the response that Vice was hoping for.
The Orochi-blooded woman growl low in the back of her throat, and then /slams/ her fist into the side of the bridge. There's a crunch of brickwork and yet more structural damage is inflicted, this time to vent her rising frustration. Intellectually, she knows you get it sometimes; someone who you just can't terrify into some semblance of respect.
Unfortunately, that means she's wasted her time. If she can't bring him into line with violence, she can't bring him into the fold. It makes her blood boil. Most things, though, make Vice's blood boil.
After that tense few seconds after the rejection, though, she starts to laugh. A soft, unpleasant noise.
"I like you Mick." She decides, with a smile that seems somehow to be all teeth. "You're alright."
There's no more threats; threats won't do any good against this guy. If she seems him again, she'll just have to kill him, and maybe she'll feel some momentary disappointment as she does so. That's a lot more than most people get. She's content to just saunter back out to her limo now that she's done.
She hardly even *twists* when she treads on the man's leg as she goes. She's obviously got a crush.
Breathing heavy, on hands and knees, he felt the momentary weight on his ankle as she walks away. He was born in violence and baptised in fire, in glass and blood. He laughed himself, calling out as she walks away, and started to crawl toward that same wall, to try and bring himself to a standing position.
"Next time I'll bring the gloves, lass. Drive safe!"
He wheezed, knowing his ribs were probably broken. It was worth it, though.
COMBATSYS: Vice has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:40:37 02/17/2012 by Vice, and last modified on 18:40:35 02/17/2012.