Description: After those rascally Hellriders burned down Hank's All-Night Diner (see Dine and Bash!), Killasaurus Orphanage are left without a venue for their latest Metro City gig. Rather than booking a new show, Alexis decides to visit Rae at Big Bob's Bar and Grill, where she asks him if he can find it in his heart to spare the money lost on the gig for her struggling band. Unfortunately, it turns out Rae doesn't have a heart. (Warning: Not Suitable for Kids!)
Metro City Outskirts, Big Bob's Bar and Grill, 7:57 PM.
About three miles outside of town, down a winding gravel drive that leads through a forest of shrubby coniferous trees, is a large, run-down barn surrounded by a sprawling gravel lot. Dark red paint has peeled away from the weathered wooden walls in long strips, and light shines through cracks in the badly fitted planks. A haze of smoke hangs about the building, smelling of smoked meat and tobacco.
The inside of the building is in worse shape than the outside. One wall is dominated by a long, plywood bar lined with mismatched stools of all kinds. Behind it are floor to ceiling stacks of barrels and kegs, as well as an enormous wood stove that has been converted into an open flame grill. An enormously tall, enormously fat man with a bald head and plenty of tattoos looms over the flaming monstrosity, spatula in hand and sweat staining his grubby white shirt and apron.
A juke box in the corner pounds out the opening rift to 'Back in Black', while a scattering of patrons sit around tables playing cards, throwing darts at a wall-mounted board, and racking balls on the two strangely pristine pool tables. But none of these customers are normal.
Each of the rough, leather clad men and women are covered in tattoos, and sport strange, horrific deformities. Some have curling goat horns. others shaggy wolfish pelts. And still others display glowing red eyes and fangs. Each could have been pulled straight from a monster movie, for all of them are classic horrors from the darkest depths of the imagination.
No, there are no tentacle monsters. The American imagination doesn't go that deep, damn it.
One of the bikers in particular stands out for three distinct reasons.
% 1. Aside from the spiked leather vest, scars, and tats, he seems like any other unreasonably buff old man. He has no glowing eyes or horns.
2. He is the oldest person in the room, by a good measure. He looks like he might be in the realm of a really badly preserved 50.
3. Nobody. Absolutely nobody in the room is fucking with him. The stools to either side of his bar seat are empty, and those who walk past do so with slumped shoulders and averted eyes. It is as if he were a particularly unstable bomb, and nobody wants to be the first to set it off.
Back outside, the pounding beat of the jukebox can be heard through the badly insolated walls. The gravel lot is mostly empty, holding only two busted up El Caminos on blocks, one dusty pickup truck, and 20 to 30 warped, jagged-framed bikes parked in a double line to either side of the doorway.
And, as chance would have it, a single cheap, white van that's just pulled in and rolled to a halt on the opposite side of the gravel lot from the fleet of motorbikes. Whoever's driving the vehicle seems intent to distance it from the rest of the parking area's occupants.
==*== A MOTEL ROOM IN METRO CITY, SOMETIME EARLIER ==*==
"But we had a deal! We really needed that money!"
Alexis's face contorted in frustration as she held the phone against her ear. Her free hand moved up to rub against her eye, then pressed into her temple to attempt to suppress a stress headache. "How long are the repairs supposed to take?... Seriously? How bad could it have - shit. I mean, jeez. The whole building, eh? How did that happen?"
Alexis' lips quirked as the answer came from the other end of the line. Her brows lowered as a glint hit her eye.
"What'd they look like?"
==*== BIG BOB'S BAR AND GRILL, PRESENT ==*==
"Have you been high today?" Killasaurus Orphanage guitarist Benny "Benny Lava" Lavoie asks frontwoman Alexis 'Killasaurus Lex' Lovell as the latter unbuckles her seatbelt.
"Shut up, Benny," Alexis replies as she scoots out of the passenger side front seat of the van, leaning into the door to push it open. "This plan is totes legit."
"Violently extorting gig money from arsonists for burning down the diner we were going to play in hardly seems 'totes legit,' Lexi," drummer Matt 'Toothhead' Barker points out, his expression neutral behind his sunglasses.
"Well, it's not like I can just -sue- their asses," Alexis gripes as her boots hit the gravel at the foot of the van, kicking up dust.
"I kind of agree with the guys on this one, Lexi," blue-haired bassist Kim 'KimPenetrable' Steele chimes in, tapping away on a laptop. "I mean, if this score on Fighterpedia is right then he's like, five times your power level, at least."
"What the fff- how do you even -judge- shit like that? Since when are there power levels on Fighterpedia?" Alexis turns to give her friend a bewildered look, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, what does it say my power level is?"
"Well, according to user polls, your power level is..."
Upon hearing Kim's answer to her question, Alexis slams the door to the van shut with a roar and storms off toward the entrance to the barn building, boots carving a trail through the rocks.
The door to the bar-and-grill slides open to reveal a figure that looks all but completely out of place in a joint like Big Bob's, save perhaps for her gloves and boots. Alexis is dressed in the outfit she typically wears to performances; a tight white tied-off short-sleeved blouse, red and black tartan miniskirt, black elbow pads, fingerless leather gloves and mock-combat boots. Shoving the door shut behind her, she sweeps a hard gaze across the room, finds the old biker sitting alone at the bar with her eyes, and starts to strut confidently across the grimy floor toward him. Her stride slows somewhat as she nears some of the other patrons and happens to turn her eyes toward them for a closer look. She's seen enough in her career as a fighter not to immediately write those things off as masks or props or make-up. A detour takes her to the corner, where she cheats the machine with a handful of Canadian change and gives it a thump as the AC/DC track comes to a conclusion.
As Alexis makes her way back over toward the bar, keeping her eyes ahead to avoid meeting the gaze of any of the other patrons, the result of her musical vandalism starts to drone from the jukebox.
She must be looking to start a fight. It's Nickelback.
Walking right up to one of the empty spots beside the aged and scarred biker, Alexis pushes the stool aside with her hip and props her elbow against the plywood bar and looks right at the man. "Hey, buddy. Been to Hank's All-Night Diner lately, eh?"
The monsters scattered throughout Bob's take notice of the new arrival a little at a time. Those sitting closest to the door look up immediately when it slides open, two men and a woman eyeing Alexis from chest to knee with near identical looks of hunger. An obvious set of sharp white fangs protrude over the husky red-haired woman's lower lip, but, well, she's wearing a flannel muscle shirt and Doc Martens, so who knows.
"You looking for a good time?" One of the men asks with a leer, his great bulk and wide bull horns helping him to take up more than his fair share of space. None of the three get up to follow her further in, however, content to watch from afar.
Awareness of the punk rocker ripples outward as she saunters through the midst of the Hellriders, so that by the time she is departing the jukebox, nearly the entire room has stopped to watch. All around her are staring eyes of dark brown, bright yellow, and burning red. And though there is some hostility, the overwhelming emotion from the gathering of beasts is a quiet sort of wariness.
The sudden blast of Nickelback causes a rumble of discontent to roll forward from the crowd. Phrases like: 'God damn it,' 'Fuck me,' And 'best pack it up,' can be heard as the brutes toss down pool Qs and begin gathering up cards. It is a strange attitude to have if you are a newcomer to the group.
Rae, however, has a much different reaction.
"Which one of you walking corpses thought it'd be a cute fucking idea to turn on this horse shit?" Having lifted his attention from the heavy glass mug in his hand, the bulky old biker braces one foot on the steel rail under the bar and turns to look over one spiked shoulder, coming nearly face to face with an unexpectedly pretty person.
The bad-tempered bastard scowls, scars twisting grotesquely beneath his scruffy beard, and eyes the angry teenager with open malice. First one boot, then the other thumps to the cement floor as he rises from his stool. He does not tower over Alexis by any stretch, being only 3 or so inches taller. However, his tattooed, hairy bulk must give him at least 75 pounds on his slim challenger. clutching his heavy glass beer mug in one rough-knuckled hand, he lets out a crude, snorting grunt.
"Hanks?" His harsh, whiskey and gravel voice holds a note of what might be honest confusion, though his light grey eyes burn with undisguised hate. "Don't know the Asshole, and I didn't order no prostitute. Fuck off, kid."
Straight to the point, this one.
Throughout the bar, card games are packed away and drinks are slammed back, the entire mass of the Hellriders getting ready to leave.
"That would be me," Alexis confesses casually in regards to the change of tune coming from the jukebox as Canadian keep-it-simple post-grunge starts to fill the bar. She removes her arm from tbe bar, placing both hands on her hips and shifting her weight as she looks up at Rae's face. There's little evidence of fear in her eyes as she sizes up the biker. In spite of Rae's words, her tone remains cool, at least for the moment.
"Hank's Diner. Some jerkass torched the place. Burned the fucker right to the ground. And it just so happens that my band was supposed to be playing a gig there tonight. Turns out, instead, I got some free time. Problem is, I really need that money, eh?"
Alexis brings her arms up, folding them across her stomach. "Rumour is, the guy who burned down Hank's? Some ugly old fuck who rides with an entourage that look a whole lot like your friends here."
Finally lowering her arms, Alexis steps forward, into Rae's personal space. "I'm not a cop. I don't give a shit if arson's how a fossil like you gets off. And I'm perfectly willing to fuck off and leave you and Hillbilly Bob over there to your business. I just need the three hundred dollars you owe me."
As Alexis' jaw sets and she holds her gaze evenly on Rae's, a faint hum can be heard coming from her gloved hands as her fingers flex at her sides.
If this were a perfect universe, Alexis would probably win the brutal man over with her show of iron clad ballsiness. He would laugh, say something like, 'Fuck kid, I like you,' and slap her on the back.
There is a beat of silence. A moment in which the savage biker stares down into the rocker's defiant eyes, his own full of uncomprehending wrath and aggression. It is almost as if her demand for cash didn't even register.
Then, he juts his large, frosty mug of beer forward in a sucker punch aimed at the mouthy girl's exposed abdomen, before raising it up high and bringing its heavy base crashing down toward the back of her head. Cold beer sloshes out over his hairy forearm and splashes to the ground, as all around them the bikers begin to smash chairs and flip over tables.
"I'ma make you a counter offer, you uppity little shit." Rae snarls, crooked yellow teeth showing through his lips as they draw back in manic rage, "How 'bout you ask real nice, and I might not break both yer fuckin' knee caps."
AS the destruction continues, Big Bob throws down his spatula and hurtles his mighty bulk over the bar. Bringing one meaty fist down on the back of a dreadlocked man's head, he floors the fellow, before the huge bull-like man that had been hitting on Alexis comes charging in from the side and tackles him into a pool table, tipping it over and sending hard little balls flying in all directions.
A roar goes up from the entire lot of them, briefly drowning out the grungy rock now pumping from the speakers. The air is full of crashing, banging, and chaos as the bikers go into a full on riot, the violence form their nominal leader sparking the bestial urge within them all to break shit.
COMBATSYS: Rae has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Alexis has joined the fight here.
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Alexis 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rae
COMBATSYS: Rae successfully hits Alexis with Light Random Weapon.
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Alexis 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Rae
Though aggression from the old man in response to her demand isn't at all unexpected on Alexis' part, the way that she leads her defense with her right arm - the one opposite Rae's beer hand - suggests that she wasn't expecting a literal mugging. The punk rocker is doubled over by the blow to her midsection, exhaling sharply before the glass crashes over her head, driving her down to one knee. Her eyes shut tightly and her teeth clench as her skull starts to throb. Forcibly, she opens one eye, turning it spitefully up to Rae as her hands clench at her sides.
"Didn't think so," she wheezes, a shudder running through her body. "Fine. I'm willing to negotiate, you fugly old prick." The hum coming from her right fist seems to grow as she tugs at her glove with her left hand, then clenches her fingers. "Three hundred fifty, and you can kiss my ass!"
With that, she cocks her right fist and hammers it forward, aiming it for the biker's own knee cap with the intent of taking his leg out from under him. The sound coming off her fist penetrates the mayhem like a whisper - one that would turn into a scream should it connect with anything.
COMBATSYS: Rae endures Alexis' Fierce Punch.
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Alexis 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rae
The heavy mug falls to the floor beside Alexis's left leg, impacting with a solid 'thud' as Rae loses interested in wielding it. Looming above her, he curls both tattooed hands into fists and lets out a deep, bull-like snort.
"Can negotiate with the reaper, little bitch. 'Cause he's comin'." he grunts, taking no notice of her attack preparations as his right foot swings back.
The sound-enhanced punch strikes his knee dead on, unleashing a blast of sonic energy that shatters the mug beside Alexis, and blasts away the stool that Rae and been sitting on just moments ago. But somehow, the hard old flesh beneath her knuckles does not buckle. It is as if she decided to punch a tree. An angry tree, that now feels like kicking the shit out of her for interrupting its evening festivities.
"Hah, Hah, Hah!" Harsh, hacking laughter is coughed out of the demon's chest as his booted right foot comes hurtling forward toward her hunched over stomach. "Putting' that ass on the table then, girly? Hah, Hah, Hah!"
His savage kick is followed by a stoop, the muscular old fellow attempting to grab his smaller opponent roughly by the shoulders and yank her back to her feet, only to meet a brutal, brain-fuzzing headbutt that sends his shaggy grey hair flying from the impact.
"Let's see if I cain't help ya with that."
And if he can successfully stun her with the opening strikes, he will heave her up and over by his grip on her shoulders, flipping her head over heals to slam down back-first atop the bar.
The area around them has devolved into an all out brawl. Bikers fighting bikers, Big Bob rolling through the wreckage of a pull table as he grapples with the bull man, and unengaged combatants hopping over the bar to begin looting the beer stores.
COMBATSYS: Alexis endures Rae's Combo Grapple.
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Alexis 1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rae
Alexis' fist remains pressed against Rae's knee for a moment, her eyes both opening wide as her arm reverberates with the impact. "Son of a bitch," she breathes just before the wind is driven out of her by the bigger brute's boot bashing her in the gut, dropping her back to her hands and knees. She's still reeling when Rae hoists her back to her feet; her own fingers wrap around his arms to try and free herself or put up some resistance, but her grip goes lax when the headbutt from the old man knocks her momentarily senseless.
She comes to just in time to feel herself going ass-over-tea-kettle before crashing down onto the plywood bartop, the cheap wood buckling under the impact. She cries out, as much with anger as with the pain shooting through her back, her knees curling up near her chest. "Keep laughing, fucker!" The sound of her fury still hangs in the air when she snaps her heel forward, aiming to try and catch Rae off-guard and put him off-balance with a resounding kick to the face before sliding off the bar, attempting to latch her arms onto Rae's shoulders and use gravity to help her try and drag his head down to waist level as she lands.
COMBATSYS: Alexis successfully hits Rae with Drop D.
- Power hit! -
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Alexis 1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0 Rae
Landing in a crouch, she pushes herself right back up to her feet while using all of her will to keep Rae bent forward. Stepping forward and pulling Rae's head between her thighs, she hooks both her arms under his and grabs hold of his ripped jacket. "Let me know how glass tastes!"
With that, she kicks both of her legs out, letting herself freefall and using her weight to drive Rae face-first toward his shattered mug lying in pieces on the floor. Accompanying the impact would be a sonic shockwave sounding not unlike an electric guitar being brutalized.
Her opening kick catches' Rae full in the nose, sizzling hot blood spattering across Alexis' boot as he staggers back with a shouted curse, harsh voice managing to pack both surprise and fury into the monosyllabic expletive.
There is little time for more as his relatively nimble opponent rolls off of the bar and drags him stumbling forward. She can already feel muscles bunching beneath his torn leather coat, power gathering as he readies himself to throw the scrappy little shit off. But out of the two, she is the quicker, with enough balls and strength to capitalize on this brief opening.
Feminine thighs close around Rae's head, and for a moment, he is confused. Was this all just some sort of crazy sex shit? What the fuck?
Wait, nope, never mind.
Her arms hook through his and he immediately begins to straighten up, intending to flip her right over his head. But by that point she has already thrown her legs forward, making a few things very clear. Firstly, if she has balls, they are metaphysical only. Secondly, having his face smashed violently into a pile of shattered glass beneath the ass of a teenage girl has a few too many layers for him to fully appreciate the experience. And so he defaults to pissed off.
Broken glass grinds between leathery skin and cement as the brutal old bastard suddenly surges with strength. Thick arms flex, forcing her lock on his elbows to break as his hands come forward to grip brutally at her hips. His fingers dig in, attempting to keep her from squirming free as he shoves her backward off of his head and forces himself up to his knees.
Face to face with the rocker, the biker bares his yellow teeth in a very cruel,, very angry smile. Bits of glass glitter in his cheeks and forehead, with a particularly long shard protruding from his right eye. The left, however, seems to be working just fine, and it is alight with rage.
"Ya done fucked up, bitch," he growls, before getting his left foot under him and surging to his feet.
Unless Alexis is able to pull herself free of his grip, he will bring her with him, lifting her off of the ground as if she weighed nothing at all and swinging her up over his head so that his arms are at max extension.
Then, he will bring her entire body swinging down as his right knee rockets up, hellish fire roaring up the limb as he attempts to drive it brutally into the hot-tempered girl's groin. If he can land that strike, he will follow it up by throwing himself backward, leather clad back striking the concrete floor while Alexis is swooped up and over his head in a belly to belly throw that terminates with her skull being driven squarely into the ground, his hands finally releasing their grip on her hips.
The rest of the bar is forgotten, the entirety of Rae's now cyclopic focus fixed on the mouthy little punk who decided to start shit with him.
COMBATSYS: Rae successfully hits Alexis with Devildriver.
- Power hit! -
! VENGEANCE !
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Alexis 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0 Rae
Having brought low her opponent for a moment, Alexis is already trying to negotiate from her seated position atop Rae before he starts to rise. "Right. Let's make it four hundred, and while you're down there -" The girl's legs are still too numb from the impact and sonic release for her to realise that he's still moving. Her underhook being broken is the first signal to let her know that things aren't over just yet. "Oh, for fuck's sake -"
That's when Alexis feels Rae's fingers digging into her hips. She reaches out to try and grab onto a nearby stool or table leg to help extricate herself from her predicament, but only finds wooden flooring that affords no purchase to her fingerips. Forced out of her dominant position, she's quickly lifted into the air again, eyes closing as she throws up an arm to shield her mouth in the crook of her elbow, either from the biker's face or from his breath.
This decision, unfortunately, leaves her very exposed to what comes next.
Alexis' eyes instantly go wide with shock as the burning sensation erupting between her legs floods her senses. Flesh and fabric smolder as Rae takes his vengeance on her person, and the girl's eyes start to water as she's hoisted helplessly into the belly-to-belly throw. It's questionable whether the feeling of hitting the wood head-first even registers in the girl's already-rattled brain. A groan escapes her lips as she lies on her knees and face, indicating that she's still conscious - at least to some degree.
==*== MEANWHILE, OUTSIDE ==*==
"Do you think we should call the police, eh?" Benny asks worriedly as the sounds of violence escape the barn-shaped bar-'n-grill.
"I don't know, eh - wait, is that Nickelback?" Matt replies, frowning. "Shit, that's definitely Nickelback. Yeah, we should call the cops. Somebody's probably going to die."
==*== BACK INSIDE ==*==
Alexis' entire body trembles as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. Her head turns to look toward Rae, her bangs hiding one eye from view. Unhidden are the bruise forming on her forehead, the blood now trickling down her face and across her scar from her earlier head injury, and the raw defiance in the single visible aquamarine eye. She grits her teeth. "Right. Now, I'm mad," she says, straining to utter the words with a meekness that doesn't seem to match her sentiment.
Then, suddenly, she's on her feet, throwing herself headlong into a charge at the biker intended to crash into him shoulder-first, scoop his legs and drive him backward through a table and to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Rae endures Alexis' Beatdown in Three Four.
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Alexis 0/-------/---<<<<|=======\===----\1 Rae
Once she's got him down on the ground again, she drops down with her knees on either side of him, straddling him and pinning him down with her weight on his stomach. Both her fists hum with musical chi as she cocks back her right fist, then hammers it down, her fists alternating as she beats out a melody against his face, punctuating each blow with a bellowed word:
The final and most devastating blow resounds like a crashing cymbal as nearby chairs topple from the shockwave.
Having just managed to pull himself to his feet after tenderizing Alexis' naughty bits.
Not Like That.
Rae turns about to face the charging girl, and he spreads his arms wide. With his head thrown back, the brutal old man lets out another hacking chuckle as she ploughs into him, knocking him off of his feet and sending them both crashing through one of the simple round tables that haven't yet been smashed. Wood crunches and splinters beneath his weight as she settles herself atop him, once more straddling the hairy old shit.
"You sore?" He taunts up to her, glaring up into her face with a savage grin on his badly scarred lips.
Both eyes healed and unwounded.
What the hell?
If Alexis had bothered to do her homework on the reason that Rae is five times her power level, she would know that it is mostly do to three distinct factors. First, his insane toughness, which she has already seen. Second, his hellfire channeling, which she has so recently felt. And fourth, the fact that he can regenerate from sniper rounds to the chest while simultaneously beating ass.
Well, at least that explains the eye thing.
The old biker is still grinning when Alexis' first blow smashes into his glass-spattered face with a musical 'DING.' By the third punch he is outright laughing, the sound a roar of wrath and rage shot through with malicious mirth.
Beneath her sonically-enhanced fists she can feel his cheek fracture, as well as the bits of glass being ground ever deeper into his blood-slick beard. But he won't, stop, laughing.
The chairs are still tumbling across the floor from the punk rocker's final deafening blow when he counter strikes.
Between her spread knees, a roaring inferno bursts to life along Rae's arms, covering them from fist to elbow. At nearly the same moment he tears both free from her straddling grip, back tensing as he arches slightly, then brings his flaming fists down in a two-handed pound aimed to knock the comparative featherweight off of him.
If, and only if, he can clear her from his body, he will lumber to his feet, arms still flaming, and trudge across the short distance separating them. As yet more hellish fire roars to life on his boots, he will reach down and grab the back of her skirt in his superheated grip, and swing her up and around to smash face-first into the wreckage of a two-legged pool table.
Then, unless the scrappy girl can stop it, half a second later the brutal old man's flaming boot will descend upon the back of her head, and he will stomp her face right through the table. Thus will be created two one-legged table halves.
The rest of the bikers have already begun smashing their way out of the barn. Some exit through the front door, while others simply bash a path through the walls. The entire structure has begun to groan and list, but it hasn't yet collapsed atop them.
Big Bob is nowhere to be scene.
COMBATSYS: Rae successfully hits Alexis with Unforgiven.
- Power hit! -
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Alexis 1/-----<</<<<<<<<|=======\=====--\1 Rae
Alexis Lovell has never done homework in her life, a true fact famously professed by Killasaurus Orphanage cult classic, 'Who Gives a Shit About School, Anyway?' and further expounded upon during at least one interview with a local newspaper.
Of course, she doesn't immediately notice the fact that the cyclops has mysteriously become a biclops during the course of their exchange, blinded as she is by her own urge for violence and the persistent throbbing in her head and abdomen. Her last blow delivered, she sits up. Her chest heaves as she sucks in air, one arm reaching up to wipe the blood and sweat from her glistening brow. It's not until she feels the heat building between her knees that she's snapped out of it. "Oh, God damn i-"
The double-fisted blow smashes into Alexis' chest, setting her blouse alight and sending her tumbling head over heels across the floor. Rolling over and quickly smothering the flames with her arms, she ends up doubled over on her knees, cradling her bosom as Rae stalks toward her. She let's out a yelped "Hey!" in protest as the seat of her skirt is grabbed by Rae's burning hand. The tartan starts to succumb to the flame as Alexis is swung around, then crashes face-first into the pool table.
Then the boot comes down, splitting the table in two with her face.
It's not something that a person in Alexis' position has any business getting up from, regardless of age, size, or gender. As she lies face down against the floor, trampled, burned, and shamed by many metrics, Alexis takes in a deep, rattling breath. She licks her lips and tastes the coppery liquid that's flowing from both where they've been split open and from her bloodied nose. She... smiles?
The expression lingers as she grabs onto a structural beam nearby and uses it to haul herself shakily up onto her feet. By chance, this puts her next to the jukebox. The Nickelback track has just finished. Alexis raises a knee as if loading a kick for Rae, but her foot instead lashes out for the machine. Moments later the words of Marilyn Manson blare through the barn, along with thundering drums and guitars:
I AM NOT A SLAVE TO A GOD THAT DOESN'T EXIST!
While the anarchist lyrics could perhaps easily be applied to the biker as the Canadian punk, the rhythm and volume are in her favour. Harnessing and amplifying the sound of the metal anthem, Alexis surges with sonic energy, the hum around her building to a peak. When she opens her mouth as if to scream, it's the sound of the Manson track, garbled and amplified, that is released in violent, scantly-visible waves of force toward Rae.
If the bar had windows along the wall behind Rae before, it doesn't now.
The smile reappears behind Alexis' red-stained bangs momentarily before fading as she starts to collapse again...
COMBATSYS: Alexis has reached second wind!
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Alexis 0/-------/-----==|=======\=====--\1 Rae
...but she manages to catch herself, though both arms hang limply at her sides as she barely remains upright beside the beam.
COMBATSYS: Rae endures Alexis' Shredding Solo EX.
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Alexis 0/-------/-----==|=======\=======\1 Rae
Both halves of the smashed pool table flicker, then burst into flames as Rae's superheated foot lashes out to kick them off to either side. He seems not to care when Alexis drags herself upright a short distance away, though he does take the time to leer at the state of her deteriorating outfit, lips pulled back from his jagged yellow teeth.
Subtle changes seem to be coming over the old biker as the fight continues. Where once his eyes had been bright grey, faint flickers of orange now swirl in their depths. And where once his teeth were simply yellowish and crooked, jagged demonic fangs sprout from his gums. Hellish flames continue to roar out of his hands and feet, charring the floor and causing the air around him to grow hotter by the second.
"Ah doll." He growls, the hate-filled rumble of his voice now layered with the spit and hiss of flame, "You fuckin' kill me. It's a damn shame you wasn't 'round in my prime. We'd have burned this whole fuckin' city down."
His heavy boots thud against the quickly charring floor as he approaches the rocker, little bits of glittering glass dropping from his face and bouncing off of his chest before hitting the ground. Before her eyes, the blood flowing from his face slows, and the wounds begin to knit themselves together, forming lines of fresh pink scar tissue.
A savage fang-filled grin stretches his split lip as his opponent kicks out at the jukebox, filling the crumbling barn with the sort of music he likes to hear.
He is still 10 feet away when she opens her mouth and hits him with the visible wall of sound. It is not nearly as bad as the last one that hit him, from that bitch of a witch I-No, but it packs enough punch to slow his steady trudge. His vest and hair are blasted back, mottled bruises and shallow cuts forming where the sound tears across his tattooed hide. A broken table leg is launched into the air, riding the wave of sound. Its splintered end tears a jagged cut through his right side before it spins away into the distance.
The volume of the sound is great enough to blast several of the wooden boards off of the front of the barn, opening the destroyed interior up fully to the night air.
But Rae continues to stand through it all, boots planted firmly on the smoldering floor.
Opening his mouth, the brutish biker answers in the only way possible, and breathes out an enormous blast of fire.
The intense orange flames roil up from his gut and blast out from between his lips in a wide stream, rushing across the distance toward Alexis. But he does not stop there. Turning, he sweeps the flames across the walls and ceiling of the bar, setting the entire structure ablaze in a matter of seconds. With very little effort he has turned a crappy dive into a infernal hellscape, where he can feel right at home.
COMBATSYS: Alexis blocks Rae's Hellraiser.
[ \\\\ < > //////////// ]
Alexis 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Rae
Alexis can barely make out the shape of Rae as he prowls toward her, her vision still hazy from the beating she's been receiving and obscured by her hair and blood. Still, she can identify that there's been a... change, of some kind. As the air around her begins to heat and she sees the jet of flame coming toward her, she throws her arms up to reflexively cover her face and upper body, protecting them from the worst of the inferno with her forearms and elbow pads. Her arms take the brunt of the blast, though, leaving them scorched and singed, along with much of what's left of her outfit.
And after the flame clears, she's still standing.
Sweat drenches Alexis' frame from the heat and exertion as she lowers her arms. She gasps for air as she watches Rae set fire to the building around her. She steps away from the beam behind her as it ignites, crackling and then creaking as it starts to sway.
Standing now nearer and more alert, Alexis can make out the demonic features of what is presumably the biker's truer form. Somehow, they remind her of someone else that she knows...
"Hey, I gotta ask... do you know Zabel Zarock?" Alexis calls to Rae's back, her voice hoarse.
A moment later, Alexis launches herself at Rae, attempting to crash into him with a cross-body maneuver. Should she collide with him, she'll wrap her way around his body with her own until she can hook an arm over the back of his neck, then attempt to throw herself backward, driving him headfirst into the wall or the ground, whichever her Tornado DDT could bring the monster to bear against first.
The words 'Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!' blare from the jukebox over a pounding drum track, remaining somehow yet unsilenced amidst the structural damage to the building.
COMBATSYS: Rae interrupts Stage Dive from Alexis with Combussive Concussion.
[ < > /////////// ]
Alexis 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Rae
"HAH, HAH, HAH!" Rae's harsh, hacking laugh crackles with fire, heavy shoulders shaking as the hoarse, grinding chuckle struggles out through his clenched teeth. With his back turned to Alexis, it is impossible for her to read his expression. But deep inside his brain, where his burnt-out emotional centers lie, there is an overload of wrath and relief and joy. The chaotic nova of sensations causes his body to tremble, fire raging all around him as he struggles to stay focused. To keep some semblance of control.
Turning at the sound of his teenage rival's voice, he is just in time to see a blurry skin-colored mass flying through the air toward him. In his befuddled state of mind, unfocused and teetering on the edge of insanity, he falls back on his truest, deepest instinct.
He attacks the shit out of it!
A snarl of hate escapes the demon's lips as he hurls himself toward the oncoming thing. With all of his strength, and every bit of his irrational wrath, he swings his skull forward, flames rushing out of his mouth and rolling back over his face as he accelerates his forehead right into the path of oncoming danger.
Despite his blurry vision and foggy mind, the brute's aim is true. His shaggy skull strikes Alexis squarely in the stomach, folding her mostly naked body around it so that as he charges forward, he caries her with him. His flame retardant boots pound across first wooden floorboards, then cement, and finally gravel as he lumbers forward out of the flaming bar, accompanied by a perfect soundtrack of cracking beams and blaring rock.
Only once he is free of the brilliant yet intoxicating pattern of the flames does he swing a forearm up to bat his punk cargo off of him, sending her skidding away across the parking lot. A bit of intelligence slides back into his now blazing orange eyes, demonic features losing some of their expression of near rabid rage. He still looks insanely angry, but some rationality has returned.
All throughout the lot, bikers laugh and celebrate. Kegs are emptied over heads, smashed bits of furniture are tossed about, and a general sense of barbaric delight pervades the Hellriders.
None of the bikers seem to be paying much attention to the white van, if it remains, and only Rae has eyes for Alexis. He does not approach her, but simply fishes about in his jean pocket as the hellfire slowly fades from his arms and legs. Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he shakes one out, clamps it between his teeth, and lights it with a tiny flame from his thumb.
"You gonna scrape yourself up and try again, or we done here?" He asks bluntly, flame-like patterns continuing to flicker within his solid orange eyes. "I ain't given you shit all fer money, and I don't know nothin' 'bout this Zabel asshole. But I'll stomp your pretty ass into the ground if ya don't wise the fuck up."
Alexis struggles to lift her head off of the gravel as her battered body lies in the parking lot. Her eyes search for any sign of the white van holding her friends, but can't seem to find it. It would seem that the van has vanished, or at least is no longer parked in the parking lot, for some reason.
The cool night air hits her mostly-exposed and sweat-soaked skin, offering a mixture of balm and pain that rouses the girl's senses, at least a little. Her elbows dig into the gravel as she pushes herself up to a half-seated position, her body straining to rise further but not quite finding the strength. The blood on her face has started to dry. Rocks, sweat and dirt cling to her singed, scraped, bruised and burnt flesh. She tears at the earthen lot with her fingers in an effort to pull herself closer to Rae, scooting along the ground as she does so.
"You just... remind me of him," she grunts as she gets near, "Just... less Australian. More angry. Not a zombie." Most of the fight seems to have gone out of her voice. She extends her right foot toward the left leg of Rae's jeans, her ankle attemping to hook around it subtly. "Why don't you... come down here, and we can talk... terms," she breathes. Abruptly, she seems to become insistent on the idea - she pushes forward, her leg extending a foot further to try and hook around the biker's leg. The other follows as she attempts to pull the biker to the ground - though, whatever she may have been suggesting, it would seem her intentions are more insidious -
COMBATSYS: Alexis has reached third wind!
[ \\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alexis 0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0 Rae
COMBATSYS: Rae blocks Alexis' Power Throw.
[ \\\\ < > ////////// ]
Alexis 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Rae
- as she attempts to pull the burly biker down hard to the gravel, before trying to roll behind him and put him into something not unlike the Camel Clutch! "Let's make it... one fifty," she grunts as she struggles to try and dominate the biker, somehow invigorated to maintain consciousness despite her mounting injuries.
"Huh." Rae grunts, a trail of bluish white smoke escaping his lips and swirling about his shaggy head as he observes the girl scrambling across the ground toward him. The end of his cigarette glows a soft cherry red, dim compared to the blazing inferno behind him, and the swirling orange of his eyes.
Casually the old biker smokes, making no move to step back as his battered young opponent closes in on him. When she lashes out with her legs to take him down, he allows her to hook his own before dropping heavily into a kneel, left knee crunching into the gravel just short of her groin.
"Probly best if you come back once you got somethin' interestin' to say." Backlit by the fire, the bulky, tattooed old man looms over the nearly naked girl, his deep voice quiet and ominous. "But 'til then..."
Reaching down, Rae attempts to grab the rocker roughly by the left thigh, calloused fingers digging in for a harsh grip. If he can get it, he will shove back to his feet and tear her off of his leg, dangling the unfortunate girl upside down by one hairy hand. There they will stand for a moment, his glowing eyes focused down toward her upside down face.
And with that, he will spin himself around in a tight 360 degrees, leaning back slightly to counter the weight of Alexis' quickly accelerating body as he makes to swing her about at arm's length, and hurl her away toward the dark trees bordering the dirty parking lot.
COMBATSYS: Alexis blocks Rae's Power Throw.
[ \ < > /////////// ]
Alexis 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Rae
Alexis grits her teeth as the fingers dig into her thigh, wrenching her off of the biker's leg before lifting her inverted and without dignity over the gravel of the parking lot. As Rae moves to toss her away, though, her fingers dig into the dirt, clawing at the ground and arresting her momentum enough that she lands on her stomach and knees not as far from the biker as intended. The pain beneath her fingernails would almost certainly be excruciating if it weren't blotted out by the pain throughout the rest of her body.
"F... fine," she stammers, her voice sabulous as the ground beneath them by this point. "One hundred, and you... can..." She lurches at Rae with surprising speed, pushing herself off the ground defiantly, her right fist humming faintly as she draws it back. Trying to make the most of the fumes she's running on, she aims a punch for Rae's gut, intending to follow up by twisting around so that her back smacks against his front. "Kiss..." If she manages it, one arm would swing up to try and hook over Rae's neck and pull his jaw to her shoulder. "My..."
COMBATSYS: Alexis can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
The intent would be to bring Rae's jaw down against her shoulder with the aid of gravity, though it would seem that gravity has no intent of letting the punk rocker go as she succumbs to its pull...
COMBATSYS: Rae blocks Alexis' Shoulder to Cry On EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
As Alexis slides to a premature halt, Rae removes the cigarette from between his teeth and drops it to the earth. There it smolders, unstomped, as he trudges forward to meet the girl half way through her staggering charge.
He makes no move to defend himself from the opening punch. Like so many others, it impacts his exposed abs, sending a vibration of powerful sonics humming through his skeleton. But, when she twists about to slap her bare back to his chest, he circles one powerful arm about her middle and squeezes, holding her up as her knees finally give way.
"Ya keep goin' back to yer ass, girl." Rae grumbles, his deep voice vibrating through her back from where it is pressed against his hairy chest. Up this close, skin to skin, the difference in bulk is painfully obvious. "May be that yer given' me ideas. May be," He stoops a bit to grunt the words into her ear, breath hot and damp, "I ain't lost all of my charm yet."
He takes a moment to let that sink in, giving the teenager a rough shake to insure she stays at least somewhat conscious.
Then, like a bag of dead cats, he drops her carelessly to the ground.
"Hah, hah, hah." A quiet, nasty chortle coughs its way out of the savage as he steps over the punk's crumpled body, sparing not another glance for her nudity. In no particular hurry, he ambles across the dirty lot, surveying his kingdom of cavorting monsters.
Reaching a huge, black and crimson bike, Rae swings a leg over and sits. it is clearly his, for no other man would ride a chopper with such gratuitous amounts of spikes and armor plating. Even the wheels sprout swords, twisting out to either side like a war chariot of old. All along the chopper's body, ghoulish red eyes blink open. As its master settles, the bike roars to life, revving itself up with vicious impatience.
Hellriders whoop and scramble for their own tainted rides as Rae kicks up his feet and lifts his hands to the handlebars, flooring the throttle and powering out of the lot with a spray of displaced earth.
Alexis lies face down in the gravel, unmoving save for the beating of her heart as the Hellriders peel out.
Out in the treeline, a set of headlights come on, illuminating the parking lot faintly from the outskirts. Behind the wheel, Benny fumbles nervously with the key in the ignition. "Holy shit. Those were actual demons! She picked a fight with a pack of hellspawn! What the hell is wrong with her?" He turns his head to look back at the other back of the van.
The seats are empty.
Looking forward again, Benny peers into the darkness and spots the other band members, along with Steve, running across the parking lot toward the prone form of Alexis. He frowns.
"She's pretty much naked again, isn't she?" he remarks flatly.
Log created on 15:26:24 07/20/2016 by Alexis, and last modified on 03:45:45 07/21/2016.