The Black Dragon - Black Dragon R1 - Regicide

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Description: It's said that trouble always comes in threes and Southtown has never failed to provide. With a horde of ravenous beasts tearing up the streets and criminal elements rushing to exploit the panic, it seems a prime opportunity for those looking to earn a little fame to make their mark. A celebrity in her own right, the 'Demon Queen' Lyraelle has come to do precisely that. Beat up a few monsters, pose for the cameras, kiss a baby or two - how hard can it be? Alas, the best laid plans of mice, men, and apparently demonic royalty are equally susceptible to the whims of chaos; for the beast that she stumbles across, while certainly mangy and drooling, is not the sort she expected...

Southtown's biggest and most well-traveled mall is located in the north side of the Village district, tucked in among the brownstones and coffee shops characteristic of the area. Consisting of several small green parks linked together by paved streets lined with shops of all kinds, it is a favorite spot for girls from nearby Taiyo High. On nearly any given day of the week the picnic tables are likely to be taken over by flocks of girls enjoying seasonal appropriate treats, chatting about life, the universe, and everything under the sun. The spicy smells of cultural dishes from every corner of the world would waft through the air. People from all across the city would flow along the streets, some bustling, others meandering, enjoying the simple satisfaction of a good day's shopping.
Even at night the mall is a popular hangout for more adventurous teens. A place to meet up and prop bicycles against the dark windows of shops, or skateboard up and down the smooth pavement of the streets. A place lit only sporadically by loudly humming streetlights, where the young are free to be stupid and make mistakes and are interrupted only occasionally by patrolling security guards.
Unfortunately, tonight is not a typical night.
All across Southtown sirens blare, warning people that the streets are unsafe. Every news network is reporting the most up to date locations of monster sightings, encouraging families to stay home, bar their doors, and wait for help to come. Already both the Japanese military and the NOL have began to mobilize, while some of the more fight-inclined citizens have taken matters into their own hands. It is a scenario that has become all too familiar, drilled into students at school and cubical's at work in the wake of the Gears War, and before that the Majajin Incident. But not everyone who walks the streets is so altruistic.
On this darkest of nights, the Village Mall looks as if it has been hit by a tornado. Simple park furniture has been strewn everywhere, most of it scattered about as mangled piles of plastic. One metal bench has been torn free of its cement pad and battered through the shuttered front of a food stand, protruding up at an angle from the now open face like an oversized tongue. A carpet of shattered glass blankets the streets from the busted open shops to either side, razor edges twinkling in the yellow light of the street lamps. High whales of alarms still ring from within the looted shells of some, but above even these sounds can be heard the rev and roar of motorcycle engines. Their growling thunder echoes off of the Mall's destroyed shop fronts, joined by an occasional whoop of excitement or crash of destruction from deeper within the maze of buildings. The smell of smoke hangs heavy in the air, though it can be seen only as a dark pawl hanging in the sky, blotting out what stars might otherwise have shone through Southtown's residual light.

The streets of Southtown are chaos. The latest news has named the Mall as the site of reports of activity by what eye witnesses are calling demons. Reporting crews daren't enter the vicinity, news cameras only able to capture the aftermath of the carnage from afar.

It is in the crucible of such crises that heroes may be born. In the briefest glimpse of moonlight, a shadow glides on bat-like wings above the anarchy, a silent predator searching for prey.

But who is this mysterious figure? Is it another one of the monsters, come to capitalize on the confusion below? Or is it some dark avenger, signalled to the scene by forces unknown?

"Hi guys, it's me!"

The mystery is instantly dispelled for the thousands of live viewers on the channel of FightTube user DemonQueenLyraelle, now greeted on webcam by the face of evil herself (described by user darkxsephiroth as 'so kawaii'). The camera seems to be held at arm's length, showing two demon wings silhouetted against the sky behind, the girl's pink ponytail and black horns, and a strategic amount of cleavage, but most clearly, two bright green eyes reflecting the limited light of the hand cam.

"Sorry, I know I look totes pasty here. I'll fix the white balance later, but, as you can see, like the title says, busy with a test flight on the wings right now! Making sure they still working post-almost-victory in the championship match. Which, bee tee dubs, check it out later, guys, if you haven't already. Oh, thanks Demon Bunny Two Thousand for the donation. Anyways, I'm going to go ahead and switch over to first person for now..."

The camera switches to a bird's eye view of the burning wreckage of a car and smashed glass on the streets below. "Oh, wow! I had /no/ idea this was going on here! Holy crap, minions! Well, I guess I'd better come down closer and see if there's anyone in need of a Royal intervention."

The camera takes a slow, then rapidly accelerating dip toward the ground before jostling as the Dark Queen lands on her high-heeled boots at the entrance to one of the alleyways from which noise seems to suggest the night's festivities are continuing further beyond.

"Yoohoo! Is that the sound of crime I hear?" Lyraelle's voice sounds slightly more regal as the persona of the Demon Queen takes over, though it's still a bit on the chirpy side. "Scream if you need help! Otherwise, you've got the count of ten before I come down there and start looking for ne'er-do-wells to punish."

The glass-strewn promenade Lyraelle finds herself in is perhaps 7 meters across at its widest point, with a buzzing street lamp further down the line to her right and the flaming car a short ways to her left. The dimly illuminated signs around her proclaim the nearby shops to be The 'Stop'N'Stomp', which seems to deal mostly in tall black boots covered in all sorts of punkish buckles, as well as a baseball themed corn dog stand labeled 'Batter Up' and a small jewelry store with a sign hanging over the door that reads 'Mega Diamond.'
Apparently, whomever rammed the now flaming sedan through the front windows of Mega Diamond wasn't properly informed that vehicles are not allowed in the Mall.
The side alley chosen by the Demon Queen stretches out before her narrow and dark. Half way along its length squats the sturdy bulk of a dark green dumpster, set on wheels so it can be dragged out to the main street during trash runs. There are a few neatly folded cardboard boxes leaned along the wall beside it, but otherwise not much of note to hold the streamer's attention.
Beyond the dumpster dances the flickering orange lights of another fire, though judging by the intensity of the light it is much larger than the blaze that has taken up residence in the car nearby. Hoots and cheers can be heard emanating from that direction, joined by the odd whistle or cat call of rowdy people getting up to something they probably shouldn't. The voices sound human enough, if rough and loud. But weirdly of all, every voice seems to be yelling in English.
"Take it off!"
"Come on sweetheart, there's no need to cry!"
"Aww baby, you're breaking my heart!"
Lyraelle's call rings out along the alley, bouncing back to her high and hollow. Such is the noise of the crowd beyond that at first, it doesn't seem like anybody heard her. The festivities beyond carry on unabated, her royal decree swallowed up by the call of the crowd and the roar of motors. But then, one of the flickers of darkness cast by the fire moves, detaching itself from the wall at the far end of the alley . A dark blotch against the orange of the flames, the squat, broad shape of a man saunters its way down the row, heavy boots thunking against the pavement as he makes his slow way closer.
There is a spark at head height, and the end of a cigarette flares cherry red, bringing life and color to the approaching figure. Shaggy grey hair is tangled and clotted down the left side of his head by some sort of dark fluid, framing a scruffy bearded face so scarred and battered it has probably served double duty as a punching bag and firing range target at some point, with a pair of grey eyes as empty and glassy as a doll's. He wouldn't be more than an inch taller than the Demon Queen in her stockinged feet, but where she is aesthetically beautiful, the man before her is a mass of hairy muscle and attitude, the broad bulk of his torso left mostly exposed by the sleeveless jacket he wears open over no shirt. Black tattoos writhe up and down his arms, across his chest, and frame drippy inked words scrawled across pecks and stomach.
The flickering flame projected from the end of Rae's thumb winks out as he gusts out his first large lung full of smoke, coming to a sauntering halt not 6 meters away from where Lyraelle now stands. Idly he looks her over, taking her in from the tips of her horns to the toes of her boots, lips curling into an open leer that exposes the stained yellow of his teeth.
"Fuck, Doll." he rasps, voice low and hoarse with an accent straight out of the rough and tumble west, "You hear to join up, or one of the boys higher a stripper without tellin' me?"

"One sec!"

Lyraelle holds up a gloved finger to signal a request for a moment's pause as she reaches behind herself and pulls out the hand-held webcam she was using before. She holds it up at arm's length again, and as the feed switches over, her face comes into view, better lit now by the proximity of the open flames.

"While slut shaming is an unacceptable antisocial behavior, regardless of whether it's based on misogyny, ignorance, malice or moralism, retaliating by verbal or physical assault is never appropriate. Queens don't stoop. Clip it." The Royal Public Service Announcement is accompanied by a wink, head tilt, and two fingers raised in a peace and victory sign by Her Majesty, and with that, she tucks the hand cam back away behind her.

"Sorry, just making sure I'm not pushing any toxic narratives here," Lyraelle apologizes to Rae with a curiously sweet smile as she places her right hand on her hip, shifting her weight from one leg to the other casually as her tail swishes through the air behind her. "I'm not particularly interested in affiliating myself with anyone who doesn't recognize my authority, and something tells me that you and your friends don't recognize anyone's authority.

The demoness tilts her head a little to one side as her green eyes look Rae up and down, roaming over the man's tattoos. "I'd like to speak to your leader, if you have one. I require an accounting for your actions here." There's the faintest hint of what could be a smirk at the corners of her otherwise pleasant expression.

Though nobody would ever accuse Rae of being young, he's a good few decades older than he looks. Old enough to have fought in Nam, and remember an age before cable TV. And unlike some, his brain isn't very suited to adapting. Whatever common craze has swept the youth these days is certainly beyond him.
Perhaps that is why he simply stares as Lyraelle pulls out a hand-held techno gizmo and starts talking into it, spouting all sorts of nonsense that makes no sense at all. Slut shaming? Sounds like the sort of shit a man gets up to when he doesn't have better things to do to a woman.
By the time that too bright, too sweet smile is turned back on Rae, there is a loose cloud of smoke gathered around his brutish features, joined by little puffs and streams that exit his nostrils with each breath. Apparently he doesn't need normal air to breath, or he's confused smoke for air. Whatever the case may be, her clear charm, flirty sway, and the subtle sassiness of her banter makes about as much impact as a human running face-first into brickwork.
"The only authority that means shit 'round here is mine." Rae replies flatly, left hand coming up to pluck the cigarette from between his lips and ash it to one side with a dismissive flick. "And ya don't godda pull a fancy gadget out yer ass crack to get my attention. Showin' up without yer fuckin' pants works just fine."
Taking a step forward, Rae's leering stare flickers back up to the Demon Queen's face, empty eyes staring into hers with all the warmth and humanity of a shark. Sauntering another couple steps forward, he returns the cigarette to his lips and continues, voice low and raspy.
"Thing is, I don't much take ta bossy little whores droppin' in and actin' like what they got ta say means dick all. In fact..."
Rae's steady leer transforms into a sneer of rage, chin lifting and head rolling back to draw in a quick, sharp breath. That is the only warning Lyraelle has before the brute snaps his face down, lips parting to spit forth a flaming ball of hellish orange fire that consumes his cigarette entirely before roaring across the distance, expanding into a roiling torso-sized mass of heat and rage as it goes.
"The only countin' yer gonna be doin', is how many inches of my foot I'm gonna shove up yer dumb bitch ass!"
The raging snarl of Rae's words echoes off of the alley walls, joined by the thudding stomp of his footsteps as he charges forward in per suit of the fireball, bum-rushing Lyraelle's last known position with the savage ferocity of the berserker idiot he clearly is.

COMBATSYS: Rae has started a fight here.

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Rae              0/-------/------=|

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has joined the fight here.

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Rae              0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0         Lyraelle

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle parries Rae's Napalm Christmas!

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Rae              0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0         Lyraelle

The Demon Queen allows Rae the time to speak his mind, her eyes narrowing only slightly as she appears to be considering his words. In reality, she's focused on getting the microcamera providing the 'first person view' a good shot of the miscreant's facial features. Besides, it's common courtesy for any show match to let the Heel get their remarks in and let them build up heat with the audience.

Mind, it's only a show match for one of the two involved - but the audience couldn't ask for more heat than what floods the camera, washing out the image captured and overwhelming the night-vision.

What the camera can't capture is the way that Lyraelle darts into the air, propelled by powerful legs and held aloft by a beat of her purple wings, allowing the gout of flame to pass harmlessly beneath her feet. "Fine then," she says as she steadies herself in the air above the alley. "Let's play!"

Waiting for the flames to dissipate, she then swoops down, aiming to land on the far side of the charging biker and spin around, delivering a heel kick at Rae's back to try and unbalance him. If she can manage to do so, she'll then make an attempt to grab Rae around the waist tightly and carry him skyward, up and up - and then, at the pinnacle of the ascent, flip both of them upside down, before spiralling headfirst down to earth, the pair igniting like a falling meteor with baleful green flame before she'd piledrive him into the alley floor in an explosion with the same infernal green glow.

COMBATSYS: Rae barely endures Lyraelle's Demondriver EX.
~~ Alluring Hit! ~~

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Rae              0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0         Lyraelle

Though Lyraelle's voice echoes through the alley, alerting Rae to the unfortunate fact he has not roasted her alive, he is so fixated on his boarish charge forward that he doesn't realize she has landed behind him until her heel catches him square between the shoulder blades. And where a normal person's reaction to being axe kicked might be an 'ouch' or at least a grunt of pain, all Lyraelle gets for her trouble is the beginnings of a snarl, biker boots skidding across the cement as he struggles to halt his forward stumble and turn on the uppity chick who's decided to commit suicide via beating.
"God Fuckin' Damn It!"
Kicking Rae is a lot like kicking a bag of very angry, very loud cement that wants nothing more than to tear your face off. The meaty THMP of high heel striking muscle barely seems to register. Still, though clearly tough as hell he isn't very fast, and Lyraelle's arms encircle his waist, chest squishing against his back before he really registers what she is trying to do.
Judging by the smell, the clotted substance in the brute's hair is most definitely blood.
Tattooed elbows swing back in an attempt to catch the much lither form of his attacker, but caught off guard as he is the blows are easy enough to avoid. Wings beat, sending the stacks of cardboard tumbling away from the walls, and the monstrous biker is drug spitting and flailing into the air.
"I'm gonna tear yer ass in half!"
The effect of the threat is lessoned somewhat by the wind that tries to snatch the words away, the pair of them swooping up and up into a graceful back flip, before hurtling to earth in a sudden conflagration of blazing green.
The roar of rage that escapes Rae is cut off by the thunderous impact of skull against ground, green fire rolling out to blast bits of shredded cardboard in all directions. But as the flames fade, they reveal Rae in all his extremely pissed off glory, half way to his feet and rounding upon Lyraelle with literal fire flickering in his murderous grey eyes. Apparently the head is not an essential function the biker needs to live, as despite the blood that now courses fresh and red down the left side of his head, mingling with the clotted stuff already there, he seems barely phased by the impact.
The roared insult is followed by a step and a lunge, Rae attempting to hammer his scarred forehead squarely into Lyraelle's much prettier face. The maneuver also gives those watching an unfortunate close up of him rushing in, lips pulled back in a snarl of yellow-toothed fury.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle blocks Rae's Aggressive Strike.

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Rae              0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0         Lyraelle

It was almost too friendly, the way that Lyraelle's legs coiled around Rae's waist and chest pressed into his back as she carried him aloft, her right cheek coming close to grazing his left as she sniffed curiously at the blood. "Is that blood?" She'd quickly tilted her head out of the way of the elbow aimed at the sound of her voice, before leaning up to the other side of his face just before the descent began, chiding, "You should see a doctor about that." Even if he didn't manage to spot the wink she gave out the corner of his eye, it was practically audible in her voice.

At the moment of impact, Lyraelle releases Rae, flopping off of him with the force of the collision and landing on her hands and backside. While her kip up isn't as graceful as other fighters of similar athleticism, thanks to the wings on her back, she does manage to get onto her feet before Rae does, her poise shifting and body tensing subtly as the angered bull charges at her. At the last second, a shield of leather is thrown up into his path, wings snapping down to intercept the biker's face as it attempts to crash into hers. The impact causes the wings to fly back apart and sends the Dark Lady sliding back across the alley floor, but her face, at least, remains photogenic as ever, for the moment. She flaps her wings again, carrying herself several feet backward and up, her legs tucking up toward her chest slightly.

"Careful, there. I'd rather not mess up my horns," she says, reaching up a finger to indicate the black horns on either side of her pink hair. Her feet come up and together, heels levelling toward Rae's chest and knees bending. Then, her wings push her up, then drop her forward into a swoop. She flies toward Rae, her thigh-highs poised like a harpy's talons. Then, as she nears impact, the soles of her boots ignite with green flame, and she'll attempt to drive them into Rae with rapid alternating thrusts, wings holding her aloft like a wire in a kung fu movie as she attempts to make her mark on her opponent - literally.

Should her assault succeed in its entirety, Rae will find his person and/or clothing scored with a heart-shaped series of burns.

COMBATSYS: Rae interrupts Royal Seal from Lyraelle with Harmageddon.

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Rae              0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1         Lyraelle

Face strikes wings with a leathery WUMF and Lyraelle is sent skidding backward, Leaving Rae standing there with blood dripping down his face, smearing in his beard and matting his hair into a single coagulated mass. Where once his eyes had been hollow grey pits into an empty soul they now flicker with tongues of orange fire, growing brighter and more steady with every beat of his rage-filled heart.
"Their ain't such thing as doctors what can fix what I'm gonna do ta you." the bruiser snarls, stepping after the floating Queen with violent intent. "I already killed one dumb fuck today, and he was beggin' fer it. Lets see how ya sound after I pluck them wings off yer back and have a little fun with ya."
Each threat is rasped out with hateful relish, accompanied by the steady thump and crunch of his boots as they stomp through smoldering remnants of green flamed cardboard. Lit from below by the flickering green light, Rae's tattooed bulk looms forward, veins pressing sharply out against his skin as his heart rate increases, blood pressure spiking and body beginning to throw off heat that can be felt all the way across the alley.
Lyraelle's wings flap, then lock into a dive as she swoops toward him, heels poised to strike.
Rae lumbers forward.
The first kick strikes the sneering brawler clean in the face, crunching his nose flat in a flare of green energy. The second punches into his upper chest, striking his right collarbone with enough force to have snapped it if he were any less tough. The third has almost no force behind it at all, for as the other two kicks were landing the enraged biker was powering forward, ploughing through the attack so that Lyraelle's knee is still up against her chest when his callused hands catch her by the hips and tear her out of the sky, rushing her backward across the alley upon an ever increasing wave of heat until she is driven into the brick wall of the jewelry store amidst an explosion of demonic flames.
At the heart of the inferno, chest heaving and muscles flexed where he holds Lyraelle pinned against the wall, Rae begins to laugh. Slow and grating, the sound hacks its way free of his chest with slow, quiet humorlessness, growing louder and more unhinged, full of a raw, primal hatred that makes him sound more than a little unhinged.
"Heh, heh, heh. Hagh Hagh Hagh. AAAAAHAGH HAGH!"
As the last of the flames die away to nothing, they reveal Rae's scarred face leering up at her, all of the gore and grit that had been sticking to him reduced to a thick layer of greasy soot. The blood that had been pulsing steadily from his head wound is gone, the split in his scalp completely healed over. Even his busted nose has righted itself. But most concerning of all are his eyes, now twin pools of flickering orange flames with no hint of grey or white.
Drawing back, Rae releases his hold on the Demon Queen just long enough for gravity to begin dragging her down the brickwork. But once her stomach has reached shoulder height he swings a powerful right cross forward into her gut, flames exploding into life upon contact and continuing to smolder along his fist and lower arm. The cross is followed up by a hooking left and another burst of fire, then a savage pair of right and left uppercuts that drive the demoness back into the wall, bricks quaking and shuttering with every blow.

"You know, if you keep talking like that FightTube's gonna give me a warning for rating," the Demon Queen banters as she barrages Rae with blows from her boots. Her eyebrows raise slightly in surprise as Rae pushes through the assault, and her green eyes go wide as she finds herself pulled from the air by her hips, then barreling uncontrollably backwards. She lets out a cry as she's slammed into the brick wings and ass first, flinching reflexively in her hellish counterpart's grip.

As the initial inferno dies down, it's clearly that the demoness' person is more resilient to fire than the average human's; even the damage to her clothing seems to not go beyond singe marks across her gloves and leotard. However, the impact of the slam itself still has her reeling, and she winces, gritting her teeth as each body blow rocks her frame.

"Not as human... as you look, are you?" the demoness ventures, one green eye opening through the pain and taking in the mending flesh of the old monster. Surprisingly, the brick behind the Dark Lady seems to be crumbling under the pressure faster than Lyraelle herself, but the effect is undeniable, and her wings seem to crumple with each strike.

When an opening in the assault presents itself, Lyraelle swings her legs up, trying to catch Rae around the middle and pull him close before tightening her thighs around his waist in a once-again far-too-friendly manner. If she succeeds in doing so, she'll slip both hands up, using her arms and elbows to fend off further attacks as she tries to grab hold of Rae by both craggy cheeks, apparently to get a closer look at the scarred, restored flesh.

"Interesting," she would say, her voice strangely ethereal for the circumstances unless one were to assume her to be punch-drunk.

And then, she would tilt her head back before smashing her horns into Rae's forehead, intent on using the violence to unsteady him and take some control, swing herself around and away from the wall, then let go with her legs and kick off of him with both feet to create distance and put herself closer to the alley's entrance.

COMBATSYS: Rae endures Lyraelle's Combo Grapple.

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Rae              1/-----==/=======|=======\===----\1         Lyraelle

The heat radiating off of Rae's bulky form would be stifling to anyone less flame resistant than Lyraelle, making the Demon Queen one of very few people who would willingly wrap their legs around the beast, let alone when he's all fired up. Feminine thighs close around his middle, drawing him in and doing their best to apply crushing force while gloved forearms lift between them, comparatively small hands coming to rest on his battered, rage-twisted face.
Flame-wreathed hands clamp down on either arm as he stares back up at her, lips pulled back from his teeth in an expression far too savage to be a smile. He is hot and hard between her thighs (not like that), the unnatural sturdiness of his frame shrugging off her attempts to crush him with contemptuous ease.
"If ya keep wrappin' yer legs 'round me like this," he grunts back, superheated breath tinged with the smells of blood and brimstone, "I'm gonna get the idea ya might like it. Ya won't be the first half naked bitch I made scream."
The proper response to that is, of course, a pair of demonic horns being smashed violently into his face. And fortunately for Lyraelle, that is exactly what she is equipped with. Horn meets bone with a loud THONK, boiling hot blood spraying from splits in the biker's skin as she twists her body violently to one side and slides her legs free of his torso, planting her heels against his chest. And yet, once again, Rae does not fall back. As she springs away he powers forward in pursuit, chasing her through the air and swinging one, two, three heavy flaming hooks toward whatever parts of her he can reach. There is little in the way of grace or finesse to the maneuver, just the powerful urge to hurt backed up by a body that can withstand unholy amounts of punishment.

COMBATSYS: Rae successfully hits Lyraelle with Death Engine.
Grazing Hit

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Rae              1/----===/=======|=======\=====--\1         Lyraelle

Breaking free from the clutch, Lyraelle is light on her feet and seemingly much more sure of herself. She doesn't seem to pay much notice to the fact that the small camera that was tucked against her temple and attached to one of her horns to provide the first-person view has been violently dislodged, sent tumbling amongst the alley debris and now supplying the feed with a ground-up angle on the fight.

Serendipitously, it's at the right perspective to follow Lyraelle and Rae as the former dances back, hopping from one foot to the other with each fiery punch thrown her way. Her ribs are clipped by the first of the blows, and second slides along her chest as she leans sideways to try and avoid it, but she avoids the brunt of the attacks.

"Surprisingly sturdy. I could probably find a use for you," the demoness claims, her voice unintelligible to the webcam from its current position.

With the third blow, Lyraelle flits straight up into the air with an abrupt burst of speed to evade it. "Talk more after. Let's see what you've got!" the Demon Queen calls from above. Then, the pink-haired hell-maiden puts what she's got on show - twisting around in mid-air, she kicks her legs up at an angle away from Rae, wings blasting her down toward the alley with a hard beat. She hurtles backside-first toward Rae, aiming to barrel him over with her hips and pin him to the floor for use as an impromptu chair.

If she succeeds, her tail will snake its way around the nearest of his limbs, attempting to slither around it and tighten. More than the surprising strength of the prehensile (and clearly not fake) appendage, the hellish biker would find his power being sapped, drawn from him by the spaded tail's covetous coils...

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle issues a challenge!!

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Rae              1/----===/=======|=======\=====--\1         Lyraelle

COMBATSYS: Rae interrupts Royal Requisition - Dark Queen's Throne from Lyraelle with Lucifer's Hammer.

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Rae              0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2         Lyraelle

The first blow just clips her, and the second grants him a brief brush of knuckles across her impressive chest, but the third hits only air as the Demon Queen flees into the relative safety of the air. But with each denial the heat rolling off of Rae seems to grow, flames spreading up his arms and across his shoulders as the near desperate urge to kill, maim, and burn rises within him. Whatever demonic blood is running through his veins it is not royalty. It is mad and frothing, the psychotic temper of something bred for war.
Stuck on the ground with no wings to call his own, Rae glares up after his pink-haired prey, shoulders shaking with low, mirthless laughter. The fire that is spreading across his body puffs from between his lips with every breath, escaping passed rows of sharp yellow fangs. Inside his chest his heart is racing, blood rushing in his ears. His vision has began to blur, emotions crowding his brain, pressing in on him, burning him. The world is light and heat and sound and joy and an all consuming hunger for violence and fear. It is too much. Too much for one man to feel, brain threatening to short circuit beneath the blazing pressure of it.
Above him, Lyraelle spins herself about, legs flying up and backside coming down toward him in a sudden rush. It isn't a bad look for her.
Flames roar down the length of the demonic biker's body, consuming him in a wave of hellish fire. Visible only as a man-shaped silhouette within the roaring inferno, he bends one knee slightly, right hand dropping down as his head moves to track the descent of the winged demonette. Closer and closer she plummets, drawing just within range...
The crack of skin on skin bounces loudly back to them off of the brick walls, echoing out through the entire park as Rae's flaming palm whips up through the air and impacts Lyraelle's thong-clad buttocks with skeleton jolting force, an explosion of flames blasting into her body in the wake of the strike. However, before the force of the blow can send her careening away, the demon's other hand has reached up to catch her by the end of the tail, jerking her to an abrupt halt.
"You don't godda worry, doll." Rae rasps from within his prison of fire, voice crackling like the flames that have consumed him, "I already got a use fer you."
That said, the brute whirls on the spot, swinging the Queen through the air like a wrecking ball toward the nearby wall of the jewelry store. As she circles, flames roar up her tail and consume her, turning her into a whirling ball of death that impacts the bricks, smashing through them in a spray of masonry and emerging out the other side at high speed, flames still cascading off of Rae and across her body. In no time at all she has smashed a matching hole in the other side of the alley, emerging out the other side only to make one last circle through the air before being released as a streaking comet of fire aimed squarely for the large green dumpster half way along the way.
In the wake of the attack, Rae stands in the center of a wide swath of blackened cement. His clothes are curiously unharmed by the amount of fire he has been throwing around, but perhaps that's just a demon trick. Burning eyes study the devastation with crude satisfaction, lips pulled back from yellow fangs in a leer of bloody-minded pleasure. Though his veins still press out starkly against his skin, pulsing with the superheated napalm he now calls blood, much of the fire that had wreathed him is now gone. Reduced to a smoldering patch at his right shoulder and another licking up his left leg, he seems to have regained at least some of his sanity with the release. The frothing manic need of his expression has been replaced by something more like savage anticipation, glowing gaze turning to stare down the alley toward the last sighting of his opponent.

Just before she began her descent, Lyraelle had a last moment inspiration. Taking her hand-cam from where she kept it clipped to the base of her tail, she'd raised it up at arm's length to capture her face and upper body, as well as her target on the ground behind her, before switching it on. She'd given the camera a wink before sending herself flying backward. It served two purposes: saving the camera from the collision, and getting more likes on FightTube.

It's also, therefore, in prime position to catch the abrupt shift in her expression from smug self-assurance to wide-eyed, teeth-clenched bemusement at the sensation of having her descent interrupted by the force and sudden heat of Rae's flaming palm against her backside. Moments later, the feed is interrupted by the inferno engulfing the female demon, but not soon enough to avoid the clips and GIFs to come.

Fortunately, the other camera is still at the right angle to catch the Demon Queen's misadventures as she's slammed through one brick wall, then the other. It's enough to shatter the bones of lesser creatures, and even her Dark Majesty's flaming infernal frame seems to be withering under the assault. Her pink ponytail is in disarray, singe marks cover her pale skin, and bruises can already be seen forming under the surface of her flesh, covered in scrapes from the brickwork. Luckily, whatever material her tail, horns, wings and ears are presumably made out of seems to resist the battering and fire. It's a wonder how she keeps them all on through such a thrashing!

The camera loses sight of Lyraelle, the dumpster it's lying next to obscuring the view as she flies toward it, but it's able to pick up the metallic *CLANG* of her collision against the receptacle quite clearly.

The demoness groans and squirms on the ground and against the dumpster, reaching a hand up to pull herself up with the aid of the edge of the trash bin. "Come here," she says in a woozy, yet strangely otherworldly voice, one eye squinting shut as she turns the other toward Rae. A trickle of blood is running down the side of her face from beneath her bangs. She stretches a hand out, stumbling forward. "I could use a pick me up."

And then, with a burst of speed quick enough that most eyes would struggle to follow, the Dark Queen is upon Rae once more, spinning with her extended arm poised for a chop aimed to catch him in the back of the neck, intending to double him over with sheer force (the She-Demon being familiar enough with Rae that pain is not expected to be a factor) and follow up by grabbing one of Rae's arms and wrench it into a deep hammerlock. Should that succeed, her tail would strike independently, aiming to whip around Rae's throat and tighten before sapping ravenously at his vital energy.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Rae with Royal Prerogative - Covetous Clutch.
- Power hit! -

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Rae              0/-------/--=====|>>>>>--\-------\0         Lyraelle

With Lyraelle struggling to her feet and temporarily obscured from her camera by the bulk of the dumpster, the only figure for the camera to focus on is Rae. Standing before a back drop of crumbling brickwork and scorched cement, the brutal old bastard tilts his head slightly to one side, attention fixed forward and down as he watches Lyraelle struggle back to her feet. Or rather, he stares at one particular part of her, admiring the outline of his hand against her rump while her back remains turned toward him. There's really no doubt what the brute has planned for her if he wins this little scuffle. If she isn't the most triumphant Demon Queen in Southtown by this time tomorrow, she's certainly going to be the sorest.
Once the pink-haired woman has regained her feet, she too can look back to see the monster admiring his handiwork, making no real move to capitalize on his temporary advantage. It's a testament to just how arrogant he is that he doesn't bother to try and kick her while she's down, treating her more like a toy than an actual opponent.
That is his first mistake.
His second is the complete lack of defensive measures taken when she comes flashing across the distance toward him. Though woefully lacking in terms of speed, the powerfully built demon doesn't even try to block as the edge of her hand comes whipping around to strike him on the base of the neck, the surprising power of the blow driving him to his knees with the loud THUD of bone meeting pavement. For the first time tonight, his orange eyes widen just the slightest amount in surprise, thick arm caught and hauled violently up behind him, forcing him to double forward and leaving him with only one free hand to try and deal with the tail that has whipped itself around his neck. He isn't even able to grunt, breath completely cut off by the constricting strength of the flexible appendage.
And then she begins to drain him.
Where the process might be nearly invisible against some opponents, drawing on Rae's life force is a bright, violent affair. Much like the demon himself, his energy burns with violent need, scorching its way down her tail and into her body as a stream of raging fire. And with that power comes emotion. Exultant, frantic, burning feelings that struggle to be mastered. A near euphoric mix of hatred and exultation, the frothing, maddening boiling feelings that live within the aging biker at every point of his life, driving him forward to Kill Maim Burn, KILL MAME BURN.
As flaming essence streams down the length of Lyraelle's tail, the patches of fire spotted across Rae's body begin to fade. The blaze at his shoulder flickers, dims, then goes out. The flames along his leg sputter and die. And finally, the smaller flames that live on his knuckles puff away into nothing, leaving him a slumped, dark figure lit only by the dimming orange of his eyes, yellow fangs bared in a steadily growing snarl of fury.
For the first time in a long time, Rae's head is clear. And yet, the position he finds himself in fills him with rage. After all, you don't tend to be a wrath demon without being naturally inclined toward wrath. This little cunt thinks she can drain him? Rae mother fucking Briggs?
Leather scrapes across cement as Rae slides his left foot forward, getting his boot beneath him. Left hand lifting, he clamps down hard on the length of tail stretching out from the base of his neck and tugs hard upon it, attempting to drag the Demon Queen forward just far enough to put all of his weight on his right arm. Then, with a savage disregard for health or personal safety, he throws his body forward, dislocating his arm at the shoulder with a nasty crack, and allowing him to twist against the joint. Muscles and tendons tear as he shoves himself to his feet, turning into his mangled arm and bringing his left fist whipping around for a quick, savage blow at the side of Lyraelle's head. Only if he can land the hit will he grab her by the tail for a second time, dragging her in for a savage knee to the gut before whipping her hard toward the ground.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle dodges Rae's Combo Grapple.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Rae              0/-------/-======|>>>>>--\-------\0         Lyraelle

As the fiery essence flows up the length of the Demon Queen's tail and into the base of her spine, Lyraelle inhales with a sharp shudder, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Oh, that's hot," her Majesty murmurs as the raw burning energy flows through her, lending her ordinarily pale skin a slight orange glow and seeming to light her from within. Where before her last-ditch effort she seemed barely able to stand, now renewed vigor returns to her features, and the trembling grip she held on Rae's arm becomes more firm and confident.

Then, the side effects start to kick in.

Lyraelle's lips part to reveal clenched white teeth, a growl rising and transmogrifying into a tight-jawed chuckle as her grip tightens malevolently. The hand on her tail is mostly ignored, and Rae's ultimate dislocation of his own shoulder causes the Demon Queen to break out in open sadistic laughter. It looks like she's about to take Rae's punch to the head as brazenly as the biker himself would, but at the last moment, self-preservation prevails, and she leaps backward with rediscovered sprightliness.

"Wow! Is this what it's like to be you all the time? I'm jealous," the demoness enthuses giddily as she snaps the fingers of her right hand, causing a green flame to ignite between them and rapidly stretch out, dipping to lick the ground in the form of a whip of raw energy. "I'm definitely going to have to keep you around!"

With those words she swing her arm forward, the infernal whip lashing out to try and grab Rae around the waist. It seems that her brand of hellfire has a mystically solid nature, as if she catches the biker with it, she'll give a hard yank intended to pull him across the asphalt toward her, then slam him down onto the pavement with it.

If she succeeds, she'll then stamp a foot down, aiming to pin him to the ground under her heel before drawing back the whip and lashing it against him repeatedly while he's pinned, punishing him with a sadistic glee that isn't her own.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Rae with Royal Reprimand - Lashes to Ashes.

[                         \\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Rae              1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0         Lyraelle

Flickering orange eyes glare after Lyraelle's retreating form as she dodges backward out of harm's way, scarred knuckles swooshing through empty air. And though the whipping retreat of her tail frees up his throat, he does not gasp desperately for breath. The air that escapes his lungs does so in a stream of threats and expletives, the aging biker ranting out his fury as he lumbers forward a step in pursuit, eyes already beginning to brighten as his body is once more flooded with hellfire.
"You dumb fuckin' cunt I'm gonna turn yer pale ass inside out and strangle ya with yer own fuckin' guts!"
Chest expanding with the first breath he's had in several moments, he snaps his left hand up, hand snatching at the oncoming whip as if it were the Demoness' pretty throat. Unfortunately, his rough fingers close over only empty air, limp right arm pinned to his body by the cracking coil of energy. There isn't a lot he can do to avoid being jerked forward toward the empowered Queen, stumbling forward across the scorched alleyway into a whipping slam that sends his bulky form crashing heavily to earth.
A blunt heel is driven firmly into the small of his back, the full weight of the Demon Queen baring down upon him as her whip descends again and again, cracking across his head, shoulders, and back. The leather of his jacket is scored and sliced by the blows, superheated blood seeping through the rents while yet more spurts from his scalp and the sides of his arms. The air is filled with the repeated cracks and thwaps of impact, masking the much quieter crackle of flesh as Rae's right arm knits itself back together, pulling itself back into the socket with a sucking crunch.
With two arms to work with, Rae plants his hands on the scorched pavement and presses down, surging up to hands and knees as flaming drool begins to leak from his mouth, the various cuts and splits across his body oozing out flickering orange tongues of fire. The air around him grows steadily hotter, shimmering with heat as the inferno of emotions builds within him, reaching that critical point passed which it can no longer be contained.
Lurching up to one knee, Rae hunches forward, huffs out a large breath of pure radiant heat that causes an abandoned brick to blacken and crack apart, and finally surges fully to his feet. Doubling over, the raging demon opens his mouth, light flickering behind his fangs, and exhales a veritable wall of fire, painting the shattered brickwork before him from ground to roof. The river of flame continues to flow from his wide open maw as he wheels drunkenly about to face Lyraelle, the relentless flow of hellish heat sweeping down the length of the alley to consume both camera and dumpster, melting half of the latter into a spreading pool of bubbling slag. He has just about regained his baring's by the time the tail end of the blast roars across the distance toward the Demon Queen herself, much of their surroundings transformed a blazing hellscape of orange and yellow.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle endures Rae's Hellraiser.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Rae              0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1         Lyraelle

As Rae surges beneath her heel, Lyraelle is thrown off-balance, then driven back by the rising heat, her own flames winking out of existence as she hops backward, then edges further, thigh highs clicking on asphalt. The last thing that the camera catches is her approaching behind as she retreats from the fire-breathing biker; moments later, the live feed winks off as superheated technical difficulties ensue.

Lyraelle herself also vanishes from Rae's view as the orange inferno envelops her form, the burning wall obscuring any sight of her. A loud cry rises from the firewall, as furious as it is pained.

Then, abruptly, the flames warp and part as the Demon Queen re-appears, bursting out of the blazing barrier backside-first. As the rest of her emerges, it becomes clear that Lyraelle is folded up into a demonoid torpedo, her ass ablaze as it takes the brunt of the consequence of her exit strategy, flames clinging to the seat of her thong leotard. Her wings appear to have been used again to propel her, and her gloved hands are cupped under her thighs, keeping her legs in a straight, aerodynamic pose.

From Rae's point of view, all that he'll be able to see is the Demon Queen's pale posterior flying at his face at high velocity, intent on bowling him over and pinning him to the ground. If she manages to do so, Lyraelle's tail will snake around, ready to interrupt any attempt to dislodge her by tying up the offending body part(s) and trying to get another taste of Rae's fiery fury.

COMBATSYS: Rae fails to interrupt Royal Requisition - Dark Queen's Throne from Lyraelle with Combussive Concussion.
- Power fail! -

[                       \\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Rae can no longer fight.

[                       \\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/--=====|

The last trickles of hellfire drool out of the corners of Rae's mouth, blazing away into nothing as the near limitless pool of rage that powers him is temporarily exhausted. Even still his body is struggling to pull itself together, shallow cuts searing themselves closed while the smothering heat of the burning alley washes over his bruised and bloody skin. He can hear it as the flames catch her, the fury in her own voice sparking a hateful sort of glee in his gut. All he has to do is find her. Find her, get his hands on her, and then we'll see who the fuck is actually royalty around here.
The first sign that this plan is unlikely to work comes in the form of a pale, well-shaped ass hurtling out of the flames directly toward his face. This is a familiar ass. He's seen it enough times over the passed bit, and the faint remnants of his hand print still mark one cheek. But it shouldn't be here, chasing him down.
With his brain still miles behind the evolving situation, Rae's body reacts on instinct. Defaulting to the most natural, basic reaction for him, he sees danger, and he attacks the hell out of it!
Rearing back his head, Rae's abs tense, muscles in his neck locking up in preparation to strike. But before he can throw himself forward and bludgeon the danger away with the solid weight of his forehead, she is upon him. Smooth, womanly cheeks smash into his face with wrecking ball force, driving him backward off of his feet to slam head-first into the flaming cement. It's the sort of fall that could crack the skull of a lesser man, but Rae's body is already beginning to react, hands already lifting to pry her off of him. Unable to see passed the suffocating weight, he can only feel as first one, then the other wrist is restrained, and the overwhelming, exultant hatred that powers him begins to flow out of his body and into hers. As long as he hates the well can never truly go dry, but with it being stolen away as quickly as it is generated his wounds stop healing, the overwhelming heat of his body begins to cool. Though unseen, the flames leave his eyes, and his fangs shrink, leaving him crumpled and exhausted beneath her, body slick with blood from dozens of weeping cuts and his brain rattled from its recent greeting with the earth. Fortunately for him he's still fireproof, their surroundings an infernal testament to his undying wrath.

Lyraelle leans back against her palms as her tail ties Rae's hands together, pinning them against her hips as she pants for breath. One hand reaches up to push her pink bangs out of her face to reveal her drained green eyes drifting shut, her mouth hanging open to suck in air slowly. Her tail, on the other hand, drinks deep and greedily of the demonic biker's power. Stolen regenerative energy aids in removing the blemishes of battle from the Demon Queen's fair flesh until only dried blood and singe marks remain as imperfections, in need of only a bath to remove any signs of the skirmish from her skin.

It's not a selective absorption, though.

As she regains her breath, the demoness starts to giggle, lips closed to suppress her laughter as her eyes open, flashing a brilliant and almost otherworldly green, taking in the destruction around her with glee. With Rae gone still and her own vitality restored, the restless she-demon rises to her feet, tail uncoiling and dancing behind her.

"You're right. I am kind of a bitch," Lyraelle admits to the unconscious biker with a laugh as she thrust her tail into the molten slag before using the hot and spaded tip to carve her name into the side of the dumpster with surprising precision: DemonQueenLyraelle@FightTube <3

As she puts the finishing touches on her calling card, sounds of movement further down the alley draw the Demon Queen's attention, reminding her of the urge for violence still boiling in her veins.

"Oh, boys~ Who's ready to have some more fun?" she calls out as she advances down the alley, burning whip cracking back into existence at her side and blazing a trail along the asphalt as the rejuvenated demoness disappears into the depths of the burning building maze.

The sounds of further violence fill the area as sparks of orange and green flame rise above the rooftops into the night sky...

Log created on 18:29:32 03/19/2020 by Rae, and last modified on 05:09:47 03/27/2020.