Post by angelo on Oct 4, 2011 23:17:27 GMT -7
21:41:44 Angelo Upon the many nights and days that passed, the Confederate known as Angelo found himself within the seats of the Arena once again. At many times it had been a home to the Confederate and at this current moment (and days, he had been here for a while), the Confederate basically had been living in the Arena and off the land about it. Were was he? Seated atop his usual spot within the lowest row amongst the Arena. What was he wearing? A wifebeater, black combat jeans, and combat boots. What weapons did he have? The civil war esque saber known as Imperial settled at his left hip and the mighty magnum known as Grantslayer holstered on his left hip. Was he happy as usual? Well...In all honestly, no he wasnt. In fact if one closely looked at the Confederate, the look upon his face could be considered somewhat...Sad? Yeah, sad. A man known for happiness was actually sad to an extent. Such a state was rare, but he only conveyed this by the somber almost plastered on frowning look upon his face. Oh, and with all-
21:41:52 Angelo -this in mind, one had to note the rather normal looking Florida box turtle known as Toby sitting atop his head, gazing down at him with those content beady brown eyes. "Yeah I know it isnt Toby..." The southern laced words spoke lowly just as the Confederate reached with one of those thin arms to lightly rub the neck of the turtle, who just continued to look down at Angelo, actually worried. Chess pieces set, let all take place after that.
22:09:12 [Ashcroft] /me –[Momentary.] A clopping rhythm echoed from the eastern entrance, growing as something approached. Suddenly a familiar beast would come into view as it left the tunnel. It let loose a deep cry similar to that of a dolphin. The creature circled around above, its great wingspan displayed for the citizens below. Soon a midsized man would emerge beneath the archway, dressed in debonair ala crème. Ashcroft… It was an 1800’s style suit of subtle cream to compliment his dark skin and armor. The clopping was now barely audible as he stepped to the edge of the steps between rows. Following behind was an immense beast with various bags strapped to its eerie, leathery body. Each pack secured with care, fastened and locked by a single button. Screwed to its head were metalloid plates lined with a rubber-like substance. “Well, boys, ain’ we in our world,” The hunter adjusted his black, silken tie wrapped around his collar. Mors stopped just behind the hunter, sitting upon its haunches <C>
22:09:31 [Ashcroft] with legs thrown about. Strangely, the hunter carried only two knives and a revolver holstered at his hip. There were various pouches on his belt but none too interesting or known. The only armor seen was his helmet and neck-guard shining dully, yet his suit seemed a bit more puffy than usual. Regardless, Ashcroft lingered at the head of the stairs before casually stepping down. His gloved hands retired behind him, linked together for some comfort. He spotted Angelo as he entered before, having an unseen gaze upon the confederate hobo living in the battlegrounds. “Howdy, partna,” He an upnod as he continued his descent to the arena’s railing. The hound followed behind, musical spines convulsing in subtle cacophony.
22:20:10 Angelo 's ear twitched at the turtles head suddenly moved up as if it had just heard/smelt something and turned in it's place look in the direction it had smelt something. "I heard, I didnt smell, bud." The Confederates words were low. It could of been a horse, hell it could of been any kind of animal with hooves coming into the Arena, only problem was when Animals with hooves walked they had Four hooves and made a distinct hooved sound, this one...well it only had the distinct sound of Two hoves rather then four and unless it was a fuckin' demon or something Angelo figured he knew what it was. "Sport..." Was all he said in regards to the hunters greeting, the turtle however did a few things: One, look at Ashcroft, second look at the Legendary Mors, and third look up were it swore it smelt some sort of object that seemed hawkish yet...Foriegn, spotting Ebon a second later. Suddenly without warning the turtle drew it's head back slightly then jut it out again. "...E!" Releasing a pathetic little squeak that-
22:20:16 Angelo -sounded just like the quoted letter. "How can I help ya sport?" The words were as they usually were, southern laced yet oddly low, as if conveying the sense of sadness about the Confederates frame. While speaking the Confederate interlaced his hands and set his chin atop the knuckles, ears acutely open, along with the turtle who...Oddly enough produced a little green marble from it's mouth, poking it out with it's tongue and having it colide with the ground below, looking down at it for a moment before looking back up, scanning the newcommer but particularly the flying one. Angelo NEVER mentioned Ebon to the turtle, and he in particular had Toby intrigued.
22:36:22 [Ashcroft] /me –[Epicenter of Speaking.] Ebon maintained its glide above their heads, the edges of its wingspan beginning to sparkle like the sands below. Ashcroft strode toward Angelo’s row between the upright seats, hands still connected behind him. The question would go unanswered until the Ari’ni grew closer, “Nothin’, just goin’ for a gentlemen’s stroll.” He explained, looking around the area before settling back on Angelo. Mors did not wish to venture past the seats, its front paws upon the seats. Its skeletal tail swayed behind its enormous body, through the air without sound. “You still makin’ this place yer place o’ rest?” He asked, gesturing the stands and pit with those long-nailed digits after his hands were released. Ashcroft was waiting for an answer, Ebon and Mors anticipating a potential fray. Of course these two were known for their violence on one another and the area around them. Even the partnership was filled with chaos. Anyways, it has been a while since the hunter spoke to the <C>
22:36:44 [Ashcroft] confederate, and a first with all his animals on the field. Slowly those hands slipped behind his new coat again - Thumb and index of the left wrapped around the opposite wrist in a loose grip.
22:44:26 Angelo "You can say it is on and off sport." The Confederate noted how the clops of the hunter got closer and closer. That was different and though he didnt show it, Angelo was more alert then ever. "Place has always been like a home to me, might look like a bumb when I lounge 'round here but...What do I care eh?" The turtle atop his head kept his eyes squarely on the two animals in the back, it's eyes squinting as it did looking down for a moment towards were the marble it had unleashed landed, noting how it suddenly broke and dissipated into thin air, a small thin white line right on the spot were it had fallen and oddly enough that line began to grow. "Ya plan on attacking me again Sport?" The question was rather sudden from Angelos lips, considering he didnt need a reason to...ok I lie, he was always a little prepped and ready to go when Ashcroft was around, even if the hunter didnt have weapons around. "I dont have much more teath to spare, and I doubt yer into the human skin or nail or hair trade so aside-
22:44:34 Angelo -from all that...Dont know, if ya pummel me ya dont got much to get aside from my weapons which, judging by yer own arsenol and pets, you Really dont need." Maybe a last ditch effort in what Angelo knew would surely become a hellhole within seconds, but hey Angelo was Angelo, if there was a chance to stop there was a chance to stop even if it was nonexistent.
21:07:53 [Ashcroft] /me –[Oversight.] The Confederate was habitually a talker. On and on those lips moved, telling of his day to the nicely dressed Ari’ni. It was like speaking to a bum, but in reality one could see it as titled. Finally that all important question arose, perking interest in the attentive hunter. The matter of combat, something those two bring whenever one is to encounter the other. Ashcroft’s chin inclined, “Well nao, jumpin’ from tha talk o’ yer dandy little livin’… Quarters to the subject o’ fightin’?” He laughed, hand slipping casually over his gun’s handle, “Why on Earth would ya’ll ask that?” Of course the sarcasm was light in the voice, but it was merely the tone. Regardless, Ashcroft soon caught wind of backpedaling, “Don’ worry, ya’ll might not even lose anythin’ if tha’ be the case.” If one could see, the hunter would be wearing a <i>shit-eating grin<i>. The manta continued to circle the area, image beginning to distort while a subtle glow seethed from the warping. Almost a <C>
21:08:26 [Ashcroft] chaotic shimmer as this influence danced about Ebon. The immense beast’s great maws began to open, cave of daggers seemingly ready to smash down on something. “Now ya’ll just wanna talk or ya’ll gonna throw that first punch,” So sudden he was. “If yer talkin’, why not act.,” A dare if it wasn’t obvious enough.
21:27:28 Angelo spoke not again, it would prove useless if he did. Instead something odd happened. That mentioned white line that had begun to grow? Well it had grown quite a bit in such a short amount of time, up until it was ten feet, and then suddenly without warning a sort gale of wind shot fourth as the line seemed to spread outward until it was a ten foot tall twelve foot wide circle of some sort, a sort of green colored misty like substance replacing the random bursting gail of wind, turning the once oddly bright circle of light into a bright circle of light green. As if that wasnt weird enough, a few seconds after that a loud roar that sounded like something crossed with a Gyaos and Nazgul emmited from the odd light green lit circle, followed by a pair of barbed hook like things latching onto one of the very ends of the circle, suddenly pulling up with abdrupt force and springing fourth from his home, George the Gaint Praying mantis. How big was he? Imagine a normal mantis only about thirteen feet tall and-
21:27:34 Angelo -sharper looking, and weighing well over seventeen hundred pounds. George moved it's large bulbous eyes about the area slightly (not, once he fully sprouted up the hole vanished just like that), letting lose another primal primitive roar before suddenly stalling in place, turning it's head towards the right some to eye the turtle that was once atop Angelo head. I say once because while all that BS with the apparent dimensional circle went down Angelo moved and the turtle stayed in the place it once sat in actually floating in mid air. The mantis tilted it's head at the turtle eyeing it before turning to Ashcroft for a second, turning it's head upwards to eye Ebon for even less then a second, then finally turning it's head to look at the Netherhound, Mors. It's eyes seemed to squint as it looked at he smaller creature, then with a huff, George turned (ignoring all else, having found it's suggested target) to look squarely at the hound, rearing it's torso back a little once doing so then thrusting it-
21:27:39 Angelo -forward, springing it's hook like claw arms forward (though not in an attack way), letting lose one of those soul piercing loud shrieks while doing so, as you'd expect challenging the superioty of the hound itself. Now remember the floating turtle? Well after somehow dealing with George, it's sights went back up to the Netherhawk known as Ebon. Close it's eyes for a second, a sort of sucking of air like sound taking place as it suddenly vanished. Were to? Well, believe it or not, within an instant the turtle appeared but ten feet away from the Netherhawk, floating perfectly in the air just looking at the Netherhawk with curiosity in it's eye, the sudden movement meant to get the Hawks full intention rather then attack or challenge like George did. As for Angelo? Well remember how I said he moved? He moved while the rather Distracting feet of George sprouting of nowhere commenced, off to his own left and in true Gunslinger like fashion, found himself in front of a seat, gun drawn in his left hand (loaded-
21:27:44 [Angelo] me -of course) with the hammer pulled back a sort of neutral emotionless frown on his face as he lit the fireworks off by letting lose a powerful thick round from the mighty magnum known as Grantslayer, aiming for the hunters rib cage, knees bent slightly, his right hand gripped on the neck of his sheathed saber (which was held up by bindings on his left side). Let hell break lose nao.
22:21:29 [Ashcroft] /me –[Mostly Peanuts.] The whole events preceding the actual appearance of the portal went ignored by Ashcroft. He relied on the netherhawk above to warn or otherwise defend its master anyway it can. The aforementioned gust slammed into Ashcroft’s back, his coat waving as wind passed. Just as this occurred, the hunter’s thumb slid over the hammer. He promptly pulled it back, fingers hanging over the handle in anticipation. Even with a potential threat behind him screeching, Ashcroft still paid no mind. Suddenly the moment came when Angelo’s form would stir. There were many actions but all seemed fluid when exercised. The hunter acted almost on reflex just as the gun was raised. His left leg slid in front of the other in a quarter-circle while his free hand shot out to Angelo’s now rising arm. Ashcroft attempted to interrupt before the opponent’s barrel could even glance toward him. They were in close quarters, so the battle would be tricky. He would try to redirect the man’s arm downward while <C>
22:21:54 [Ashcroft] pointing away from the legs. Deftly the hunter’s own fancy revolver would be drawn and kept close to the body. The hunter wasted no time pulling the trigger the moment he aimed for the abdomen or mid-chest. Pfft! There was little recoil as a glimmering blur spun out from the nozzle. A puff of sparkling gas escaped just after the projectile left. Meanwhile, Mors seemed to be attracted to the presence manifesting behind them. The hound’s massive paws dropped to the floor, turning to display with body lowered. It was suspicious of this anomaly, shown through its erratic cacophony of spines. The creature stopped at a respectable distance to observe events following. The towering mantis reflected in those soulless orbs of Mors, letting loose a most frightful roar. The hound instinctively reacted to the challenging behavior with its own shrill cry that would feel like nails on a chalkboard. If another came, Mors would let loose during in some sort of silencing technique. The creature’s mouth <C>
22:22:18 [Ashcroft] opened slightly as its back legs rose and its upper-body remained near the floor. Ebon’s troubles? There were none as merely a supernatural turtle appeared in his airspace. The aerial manta observed the energy influx to relocate the reptile nearby, but still chose to be inert. Once Toby came into sight of the naked-eye, Ebon swiftly curved its body for a long-turn over the turtle. Was it an attack? Probably not as the netherhawk has no real visible offensive capability. One could hear a slight hum emit from the flying manta if close enough, almost a catchy tempo. Even though a foreign individual encroached, Ebon still kept an eye on the inhabitants.
22:39:35 Angelo More closer then he anticipated, apparently. There was little he could do in terms of getting his gun away, but the hunters own pistol brought fourth an opportunity for the Confederate. As Ashcroft was close enough to be within eyesights of Angelo, Angelo in turn could act upon what he saw and what he saw was Ashcrofts own quick draw attempt towards him, which Angelo acted upon in turn by releasing the hold on his blade (with his right hand) and thrusting his right hand quickly towards the closest side of the hunters pistol, intending first to smack it off course then in a quick motion have his fingers (attempt) to curl on what they could grab and yank it back slightly. It might've seemed like an odd position given the hunter's left was parallel with Angelos own left, but as he seemed to knock Angelos own gun downward rather then side to side, the possible motions Angelo attempted were possible (despite Angelo having to reach with the full height of those long arms of his), a sort of tug of war with him-
22:39:40 Angelo -tugging on his own gun to get it back while also pulling on the hunters gun (if all went as planned), feet planted squarely to make the playing field even. As for the pets, George answered back to Mors warcry with a half a screech, opting to quickly step forward, stop, and suddenly thrash the long (about five and a half feet) left hook arm limb forward, intending to bash the barbed end into the general shoulder area of the hound with fierce stone splitting force, the right hook claw being kept back in what seemed like a sort of planned move, one that made the insect attack, yet also not leave it completely open. As for Toby, he noticed the hawk was ignoring it like it was nothing and decided that was rude and it needed to be punished, and thus he floated upward until he hovered over the large bird, scanning it for a second before landing on the soft side of it, the turtle near weightless (weighing less then a pound) as it did, sniffing the back of the creature before suddenly digging it's sharp nails-
22:39:48 Angelo -into the skin it landed on (unless something was done) and by Dig I do mean dig, not just firmly plant on the Hawk, actually push into it's skin to try to get it to bleed. No magic involved on the turtle part, just a little flying and a simple small nail attack to get blood flowing.
15:36:33 Ashcroft –[“I will not allow.”] A play of abruption, the two having leaped into conflict. It continued with Ashcroft clutching the opponent’s wrist, drawing his own revolver from its holster. Angelo quickly attempted to seize the Ari’ni’s weapon from over his own arm. Without hesitation that redirected limb would be raised to intercept the approaching hand, the armed hand looping down. The single barrel spiraling into darkness would be aimed at the region of Angelo’s hip or thigh. Pulling the trigger, a bolt of gaseous blue-black energy launched forth. The gun recoiled only slightly, the pfft and ting of the hammer sounding almost in unison. The space surrounding the projectile shimmered, phasing sporadically as light danced about it. Meanwhile, Mors had his own troubles with Angelo’s own pet. The mantis’ every movement down to the most minuscule measurement was monitored by the hound. Each disturbance bounced off those convulsing spines, using its own outer-waves to detect. The moment <C>
15:37:02 [Ashcroft] that creature began to swing its armored limb, Mors would act. Its upper-body leaping with its great right paw rose. It would be brought down upon the insect’s scythe once within striking distance. Utilizing its weight as well, Mors was attempting to pin that limb or at least block it. If there were barbs on the sides, the skin of its under-paws would dull the piercing. Its mouth remained slightly open, ready to turn and bite down upon the other limb if need be. Ebon’s situation was still nothing to worry about. The levitating reptile made a sudden approach toward the netherhawk whose eyes witnessed such an endeavor. Once Toby was nearby, the aerial manta was drawing on residual energy of the turtle. It wasted little time when its target approached, its blurring image disappearing. Just as it seemingly imploded, it would appear a respectable distance of three feet from the Toby simultaneously. However the netherhawk would be preceded by an intense spherical blast of excess energy. Slowly the <C>
15:38:44 [Ashcroft] aerial creature would emerge as the light subsided from sight. A subtle glow still illuminated its form, of which was most intense with the glowing sacs.
15:57:11 Angelo Well Angelo seemed to be in a sort of fix like he usually got himself into. Flinching slightly as his hand was basically knocked off course, Angelo acted in term, figuring when the weapon was drawn it was aiming towards his left (as it was closest to Croft), Angleo with an iron grip on his gun shuffled slightly with his feet towards his own right, (most likely) narrowly avoiding the bullet as it came, though the fing zinged slightly towards his left hip, causing him to flinch again, though he acted as he moved (slightly mind you, his movements werent Anything extreme), his left hand now gripped by the rist worked to move inward and up slightly, the hammer drawn back on the gun it held, the finger upon the trigger pulled and letting lose a bullet (possible as even though Angelo's wrist was grabbed, unless you had the hold of a hammer, a wrist could still ever which way and such), Angelo hoping to set a bullet lose upon Crofts center to left mid section, figuring he wore armor so even if the normal magnum-
15:57:17 Angelo -round hit him, it'd probably just dent the alien armor and such beneath that suit the hunter wore (though I could be wrong, though I doubt it). Meanwhile, Georges first strike was set off course with a simply quick flick of Mors paw was pinned and hooked into the ground (though Mors would find itself a bit hard pressed to keep it there even with it's weight advantage as George was REALLY strong), and instead of opting to use it's other arm, the insect opted to use it's own little custom ability fitted in by it's master; that being an open of it's mouth (as soon as Mors pinned it's limb mind you) and letting lose a sudden random burst of an Acid, aimed at Mors Face (able to do so via two sets of four acid pours installed in the base of the bugs mouth, neck, and outside it's stomach). Did Mors have a tough hide? Yes probably one of the strongest in the Nexxus, probably easily capable of withstanding such a blast, but could it's Eyes withstand such a sudden burst? Details are details so we'll have to wait-
15:57:23 Angelo -and see (let it be known to that since George had such an ability it's outter carapace was highly durable to the acid blast as well, thus it wast worried about melting it's own extended arm and suhc). Once this was done, George would have to wait a bit as the results of such an attack could be varied, though while this occured the battle in the sky still seemed to be taking off, Toby having missed it's target and was left blinking and floating about were it missed, looking were the aerial beast had seemingly teleported away to, squinting at it, the turtle eyes suddenly becoming a light shade of red as it did so, opting to withdraw it's hind legs suddenly and...Well has anyone ever seen a Gamera film? If you know what I'm talking about imagine Gamera flying with it's jet propulsion flame emitting holes (were it's legs stuck out of) only a billion or so times smaller yet somehow quicker, the turtle flying through the air, head withdrawn slightly as it headed quickly towards the hawk in what had to be the-
15:57:29 Angelo -the most Epic sort of shell but a turtle could commence on another living creature.
17:16:56 Ashcroft –[Consequential Hand.] Lucky was the opponent’s evasion, but still even Ashcroft had to tip his metaphorical hat. The gaseous bolts passed by Angelo’s shifting hip, dispersing in a wooph! as it hit the chair. It was not long until the Confederate sought to utilize his revolver held by his captured arm. Ashcroft’s left turned back while spinning on his shoed, right hoof. Another quarter-circle repositioned his left foot slightly behind the other, having Ashcroft’s right side face Angelo’s left. During this, the Ari’ni would pull the Confederate’s forearm against an armored upper-abdomen. Tihun’s Shot was then easily redirected to the man’s side. A likely repeat of evasion was foreseen but easily dealt with using a flick of the wrist. However, the arm was curled to allow the weapon to remain close and possibly out of reach. Boom! A sound that reverberated against the stone infrastructure as Mors pinned George’s scythe. But soon a dirty trick arose from the armored bug, spewing an <C>
17:17:27 [Ashcroft] acidic substance in onto Mors’ face. Fortunately the jet had little to no effect upon the exoskeletal head, but did bring an irritation to what skin there was. A yellow rash spread across where the liquid made contact, painful despite the touched areas being so small. The bone was composed of material resistant to the most powerful of oxidizing agents. Their instinctive diet was to provide chemical stabilization. Hissing, the hound leapt off promptly and backpedaled with its upper-body lowered. It managed to close its eyes just in time, but still did not escape the sting. Ebon’s blast sent Toby flying backwards through the air about fifty feet (As discussed) until kinetic energy subsided. Unfortunately the influx being so close, the target that survived would be left with near debilitating confusion. The energy more than likely disrupting what subconscious this reptile had. The shell evidently protected it from physical harm, the netherhawk caring only for the defense nonetheless. Once the shelled <C>
17:18:18 [Ashcroft] creature was launched, the aerial manta would begin its glide over. Its grey body slowly began to glow, emitting a barely audible hum. [Toby: Quantum Daze: 1P]
18:51:51 Angelo shot the shot but missed, the bullet traveling from the chamber of the gun out into a chair and through that into another chair and through that until it eventually stopped in the third chair behind that. Quite the powerhouse but that didnt matter at the moment as the hunter moved. Not one to let a better position get the better of him Angelo moved as well, quickly stepping his feet diagonally towards the hunters left, and as he did this one could noticeably see Angelo's right hand reaching his right pocket (were he kept most of the bullets for Grantslayer) and producing a rather Silver colored bullet to which he would throw forward inbetween Ashcrofts legs and onto the ground just behind him (or one of the steps of the Arena). Odd, why would he waste a bullet like that? Well to be quite blunt it was one of the custom bullets Angelo liked to call the 'Stick Grenade'. Usually when he shot such a bright bullet from the magnum its tough thin metal exterior dug into the person or ground it hit, then within a
18:52:14 Angelo -few seconds exploded with half the force of a normal grenade (due to it basically being a smaller grenade in general). In short the round was a sort of half powered mini shrapnel grenade, though still Angelo was dumb for not loading it into his gun right? Wrong! As stated it was like a half grenade, and as with All grenades, it could be hand operated, not just gun operated and as you'd expect, Angelo took advantage of this situation, basically trying to distract Ashcroft with what seemed like a bad attempt to get were he originally was, while at the same time tossing the mini half grenade (which would not kill Ashcroft of course, given it was half the force of a normal grenade and that Ashcroft wore that armor), and hoping the possible result of it exploding a second or two later did a Little bit of damage and got Ashcroft of course enough for Angelo to pull his arm back and, slid his feet backward, pull the hammer of his gun back and aim it at Ashcrofts shoulder (from a distance). While this feint-
18:52:33 Angelo –attack went on, George sensed slight weakness in it's fo, quickly stepping forward with quick steps once the hound hoped back, drawing the barbed hook arm that had been hit to the ground back and striking at Mors again, trying to keep on him while the getting was good (and possibly get to him while his eyes were closed) and land a crushing blow on the area it had aimed for earlier, mouth agape, wanting to maim (as it had been ordered to do) and eat what it could dislodge. Surprisingly enough Toby started off just as bad as Angelo did, having been flung fifty feet in the air in such a way that had made him dizzy (but still able to fly), the turtle floating like he was in space, eyes rolling slightly as it quickly by the second got it's composure back, and when it did...Oh boy, but for now there was little it could do.
19:51:10 [Ashcroft] /me –[Admiration.] Pieces of seats peppered the stands as the bullet blasted through. Such an action was ignored by the hunter, keeping the Confederate’s image on his helmet’s lenses. It was unlikely that the opponent’s shifting would go unnoticed by an individual with four eyes. A simple redirection as Angelo’s body turned, Tihun’s Shot’s black gaze upon that wife beater’s<i> incoming torso. <i>Puffft! The gun would convulse and recoil upon its trigger being pulled, unleashing a gaseous black energy. Blue seethed from beneath the now phasing smog, flickering like an old television. This familiar projectile had a radius this time, fluctuating in growth and loss of diameter. Ashcroft’s thumb promptly hooked the hammer, pulling it back as he swung the firearm toward the Confederate’s abdomen. But firing right there? No, he would only pull that trigger again if the target was not still. The attack prior was before Angelo was about to throw the <i>bull-renade<i>. Ashcroft took the risk of the <C>
19:51:32 [Ashcroft] opponent tossing it regardless in order to mark the prey. The range was close and the target was in motion, thus limiting one’s ability to evade. Problems for the Ari’ni were only few while Mors found himself face-to-face with a formidable foe. The giant mantis raised his scythe from stone floor and attempted another strike on the hound. A quick upper-body leap… A left paw was there to bat it away with great force just as it came near, reflexes and counters much like a feline. What about swipes? Well, those would be dealt with by merely leaping backwards. Its hind legs propelling it back, the frontal legs followed gracefully. Those spines shaking intermittently detected an approaching threat, each brief halt giving off an awareness radius. The beast had to buy himself sometime before he can whip out other instinctive tactics. Ebon’s troubles weren’t as bad as its endeavors focused on scaring the turtle away rather than harming it. The aerial manta neared the shelled reptile, body <C>
19:52:13 [Ashcroft] now giving off a dim glow as recognizable smog evaporated from its wingspan. Hmmmmmmm… A sound slithered through the hallways, a hum reverberating against the stone infrastructure. Ebon gave off this sound, it was an animalistic method of saying go away as it glided toward the disoriented turtle. [Toby: Quantum Daze 2P] [Toby: Powerless 1P]
20:13:54 Angelo Well, it was a go for a go I suppose. What was there to REALLY say for Angelo in general? He couldnt stop the previously mentioned motions as they were already in place even while Ashcroft spun his gun, so without further ado, we can say Angelo still flung that bullet as he had planned to (though, with Croft having his eyes on him again, he might be ab le to see it beforte it landed, though a few second detonation might not matter), and I assume as soon as Angleo threw, Croft shot and when this Angelo flinched a bit, the bullet/charged (as discussed) was not what one could call a kiler, but at the same a shot from Any gun hurt like heck, and for Angelo it left a bruise beneath his wife beater top. Realizing it wasnt a death sort of blow but perhaps one of those odd tracking thing Sport used before, Angelo moved quickly, rubbing the spot that the puff shot had hit before quickly shifting back via sliding his feet backwards (as much as I hate to say it) in a sort of moonwalk fashion, not To worried with-
20:13:59 Angelo -the hunter as he had a Grenade-bullet to worry about, but never the less keeping his eyes on him and Raising his own gun (grantslayer) quickly and expertly, hardly looking into the sights of the might magnum before letting lose a quick round from the gun (waiting if he had to if Ashcroft moved) intending to hit the hunter square on the right side of his abs with a powerful but non lethal (due to Sports Alien armor, most likely) round, Angelo constantly moving backward until he deemed it safe enough to dart onto his knees and behind one of the ends of the Arena's seating areas, right hand having reached into his right pocket, Angelo suddenly snapping the chamber of the gun out while under (possible) cover, loading one normal looking bullet in the chamber and an odd rugged dark blue tipped bullet into the next, snapping the chamber back in place when he was done and peaking his head out from under his (possible) cover to scan what he could see before wildly shooting. Meanwhile, George had to have been-
20:14:06 Angelo -doing the best out of everyone, seeing as he had Mors on the slight Retreat. At the motion of batting it's striking arm down again, the bug Immediatly punched it's right claw/hooked limb forward just as it's left hook arm was bated away, still moving forward as it did so, George's movements oddly simple and barbaric yet at the same time calculative as when the strike was done with (regardless of the outcome) the bug continued moving forwards at a quick yet oddly organized pace towards the hounds presence, idea in mind. Meanwhile, in the sky above, Toby had been having troubles of his own but found himself slowly recovered, no longer fully dizzy, able to see every which way and such but at the same time things still being a blur, but it moved it's head side to side and forward to get itself out of it's daze. Slowly it was happening but still, as he was before (as discussed) the turtle was dazed and confused and still simply floating, despite getting it's whits back at a good rate.
21:26:30 [Ashcroft] /me –[… To one’s Actions.] Angelo’s chest lit up in brilliant yellow, stained by foreign governing launched forth. It was almost an obstruction but still Ashcroft was able to see the opponent’s hand lift from his own pocket. A mere glimpse of something at the corner of his eyes, not knowing but wishing to not find out. The hunter slid his right foot behind the opponent’s just as he began to backpedal, subsequently spinning. He used the arm as an anchor point, long-nailed fingers soon around Angelo’s lower hand nearby the wrist. This was to inhibit the maneuverability of one’s wrist while keeping the arm outstretched was to allow the hunter control. Yes, still he would hold that arm for dear life, finding Grantslayer to be a powerful weapon. Hand-held artillery was not to be trifled wish and so he would continue. Anyways, Ashcroft slid his other hoof almost in a half-circle whilst redirecting the gun to the near-back of the head. Click! Pulling the hammer back again in mid-raise. The <C>
21:27:03 [Ashcroft] moment that barrel aligned with Angelo’s head, Ashcroft would immediately pull that trigger. Piffit! A glimmer in the eyes for a second as an object left the barrel quickly, blue gaseous excess following. All this in mere seconds, the rotation merely to evade what concussive force there was. The tail provided additional momentum to aid proper positioning. He seemed to even use the Confederate as sort of a meat-shield. Beyond their position… Bam! The first claw was batted away, the hound’s muscles rippling. The other limb came around just as Mors’ counter enabled him to push off. This allowed the hound to remain upright to meet the other claw with its opposite paw. Once all four were on the floor, Mors would scrunch its neck back before unleashing a devastating cry. Its high frequency would literally cause a slight distortion around the origin. The mantis’ antennae-sensors were likely to be irritated by such a shrill sound. Indeed the beast found itself in a problematic <C>
21:27:26 [Ashcroft] situation, facing something that stood upright normally. So Mors would wait, lower-body to the floor incase of another assault – Slowly strafing into a circle. Ebon’s plans became known as its form became engulfed by the space-warping presence. It would attempt to crash right into the turtle while it was stunned. Angelo was the only one who might know the result, but it was unlikely Toby did. Now moving at a subtle pace, almost like an average human sprint. [Toby: Quantum Daze 1P] [Toby: Powerless 1P] [Angelo: Nether Mark 20%]
21:57:55 Angelo An odd little thing occurred just as Ashcroft seemed to be successful in what could be a hock of his foot about Angelos, Angelo merely lifted it quickly and set it back down a foot away from were it once was, not getting caught in the hook leg of course, and changing plans (as from from what I read, things seemed to be going down Before Angelo let out a shot) using the left hand that held Grantslayer in it, and quite plainly aiming the gun at Sports chest and pulling the trigger at near Point-blank range (the hammer already being pulled back beforehand so he wasnt to worried about that) most likely catching the hunter dead center and stopping whatever rifled plans he had and allowing Angelo to (possibly) finally let lose that explosive round from his pocket, Angelo opting to be quicker then before, in turn (after throwing the bullet) pulling the hammer of the magnum back again and letting lose another round aimed at the hunters hip, figuring instead of back peddling, standing were he stood and unleash-
21:58:00 Angelo -another bullet as time eluded. A bit brutal? Yes, but if Ashcroft wanted to be smart, he'd probably back away before anymore rounds could get lose and possibly hit him. As for George, it seemed a stalemate was brewing, but immediatly finding it's second claw bashed away (and Mors slightly hoping back), the bug initiated what it had been planning. Secretly while George striked, it's head had oddly been reared back, and as stated Just as Mors hit the second limb and seemed to be backtracking, all of the bugs inner muscles (beneath it's exoskeleton armor) clenched and George let lose another one of it's custom abilities bestowed upon it by it's master: That being forcing one of the acid sacks in it's body to pop out of place, be dragged downward with it's inner clenched muscles, then suddenly launched from George's mouth with a flick of it's reared back head forward, the results (possibly) being the long (about a foot long) fleshy brown colored acid sack shooting from Georges mouth and aiming to gorge-
21:58:06 Angelo -into the underside of Mors as he hopped and bashed George's second claw away (possible, as the one end shot out moved quickly and had a sharp tip),, trying to take him by surprise and embed the sack a few inch's into his underside. Bad? Yes, as you can imagine, for after a few seconds passed, the sac now out of it's natural home would quiver and surprising explode in a good sized wave of acid if all went as planned. Crafty? Yes. Dirty? Very, but a bug was a bug and if all went as planned, Mors (though resistant to acid as George had found) would feel the affects regardless to an extent, which left George open to prance forward and launch something it's master called 'Bruce Leeing', the once rather powerful blows moving at a quick pace for which the martial art known as 'Mantis' was evolved from...Ok, that and it took a slight turn or two for Georges muscles to get up to completely full capacity after all the flexing and tensing done to release the sack. As for Toby, the hit...Hit and he went flying like-
21:58:12 Angelo -like a hockey puck, only stopping midriff, the turtle dazed (for the last turn from what I understand) but somehow more at it then before, shaking it's head in it's flight, having enough wits behind it to at least stop itself from going DBZ and crashing into the Arena grounds. That said, Toby still dazed but getting out of it...Better then nothing. (Also, let it be known that if somehow Angelos’s actions didn’t take place, with Croft in front of him and being able to be seen with his gun, Angelo would wait a second, then veer his head away from the intended shot…Just in case)
19:53:35 Ashcroft –[Average Duration.] The situation was progressing rapidly into something peculiar, not a blade on sight with guns in proximity. Ashcroft still had the human’s wrist in a, lack of a better term, vice-like grip – Not willing to release the limb. It was almost like clockwork when Angelo began to lift in an attempt to merely step over Ashcroft’s hoof. Leaning only slightly Ashcroft promptly lifted his digigrade leg, torso rotating as he would hook at or nearby the man’s ankle. All in attempt, unless Angelo wished to raise his leg higher, like one would do before stretching. The tug and lean was meant to distract as well as provide balance. However, the intended repositioning of the left would be somewhat cut short a little more than a quarter circle. Boom! It seemed time had slowed before the exploding bullet, yet it was nothing too lethal. It was significantly smaller than the hunter’s grenades, but still shrapnel was in the equation. My fuckin’ suit… A phrase likely thought <C>
19:54:03 [Ashcroft] as shards of metal embedded themselves into his scar tissue caused by intricate but painful sauntering ironesque job. Branding one could call it. Anyways, the stinging of the pieces bothered Ashcroft little, only the suit’s now torn sleeve brought focus. Finely crafted cream colored fabric ruined, some parts even singed. Trickles of light blue blood soon began to stain the already destroyed sleeve. Pa-ting-ting! The rest bounced off the armor, sparking just before their ricochet. Angelo was a larger target, likely to get a more drastic effect, just sayin’. Tihun Shot was swung about, redirected to the Confederate’s head. But there was no subsequent firing as that eye spiraling into darkness stared at the opponent. “We ain’ goin’ far, Mistah Zaraphan,” Ashcroft began, “How ‘bout we take our paces an’ settle this from afar.” A small laugh came muffled beneath the helmet, ready to fire during or after the sentence. The arm pulled with wrist clutched tightly. If the opponent wished <C>
19:54:35 [Ashcroft] to struggle further, then Ashcroft would simply fire a small unstable cluster of shimmering crystals. Kiish! Not even an inch and it would shatter like glass, releasing glowing shards. It was a closer version of Angelo’s attempt. What of Mors? The hound learned this creature had many tricks up its sleeve, especially that of ranged bio-weaponry. A sack likely filled with acidic fluid was quickly launched just as the other claw was batted away. Its presence was acknowledged as it entered the rhythmic radar, yet with its instincts the alternative was just as bad. Mors quickly brought his paw down upon the sack with eyes closed, disregarding the risk of it bursting. A risk it was willing to take to get back to the ground so it could back up a respectable distance. If bursting had occurred then the same affect would result, having a poison-oakesque rash of yellow. Painful it would be at first, but something not to be concerned about unless scratched at. Ebon and Toby’s match was pretty peculiar, <C>
19:55:07 [Ashcroft] not so much violence as a lightshow. The turtle’s disorientation was now fading, sight beginning to realign itself but not before the manta connected. Poof! Like a smoky apparition, Ebon passed through the turtle before emerging from its own cloud. The gaseous energy now shifting, particles coming together – Imagine if you would, dropping ink into water. Slowly the strange substance slithered through Toby’s form, dying the shell in charcoal. It returned to the aerial manta who was now circling now above the stands, hoping to loop back around. [Toby: Quantum Daze 1P] [Angelo: Nether Mark 23%] [Toby: Netherous Embrace 50%]
20:19:38 Angelo Well That ended on a high yet low note, just like most of Angleos doings. The bullet went off and it hit it's target in what could be described as a good affect, but just as bad for Angelo given a good part of the shrapnel went up and flew at him. It hurt, all the places they went into (moreso given Angelo barely wore any cover), mostly his right arm, along with a small portion of his hip, and a few shards just narrowly missing his face though cutting into it. Angelo winced at being hit by his own creation but couldnt do much else given he had a barrel in his face (though his own gunarm had not let up, having found itself in it's own right pointing at the stalled hunters side), Angelo going limp as the proposition was offered. It was lose lose for him regardless considering he probably would be seen werever he went but...hat choice did he have? Accept, or get a damn shotgun blast to the face. "...Back to back walk away then shoot and run? Sure." He mutered the words, eyeing the spots the shrapnel had hit-
20:19:53 Angelo -they bleeding the darkest of black blood. He awaited what could come next, while in the meanwhile it seemed Mors had found somewhat of an equal in George. The attack was partially successful in two ways; the first being that yes regardless, it would explode just as Mors bashed it into the ground (drenching his paw/leg in the same painful acidic qualities), but with an adverse affect, that being putting pressure on the sharp hardened end of the poison sac and forcing it to shot out towards Mors rear ankle. A short attack yes, but one that happened in a snap second and could possibly for once take the hound off guard. This all done, the bug let out a loud bark type of Screech, righting itself up to it's full height when Mors backed off and stepping forward with it's feet, it's clawed hands up in a casual sort of mantis fashion, a few inch's from its head, the multiple sturdy joints popping and in place just before George lashed out again with his right hooked arm, towards Mors head. Only difference this-
20:20:03 Angelo -time? Well, considering the bugs muscular system was still recovering from the sac launching, it was still not at its strongest peek (and wouldnt be for at least two turns) and though this seemed bad, one could gather it also had it's up as the recovering muscles within Georges body slightly thinned and made him more agile for a quick amount of time. This produced blows that (though not were strong enough to dent Dense metals and rip through steel easily) were still strong, but more apt on quantity and quickness, meaning just as soon as the strike was let lose, a half second later it was back and ready to go just as one would expect. This is what George would utilize for the moment, opting to stand upright, move forward to were Mors stood, and let lose a flurry of quick and rough blows upon the hounds frame (the first blow being towards his head, which as we all know isnt a smart move but...George isnt to smart either) once it was close enough, eyes clearly open and upon Mors frame as acid filled insect-
20:20:11 Angelo -mandibles clicked and salivated. The lightshow in the sky could be said to be going slowly, for Toby at least, him being dazed and all but at that moment, Toby had enough wits about him to at least plan something. Figuring the bird was smart enough to strike while the going was good, the turtle...Began to glow in his own respect. Not fully mind you, but the orange colored patterns on the top of his shell began to glow (the same color they originally were of course), seemingly harmless, though if one was close enough (which I assume Ebon wasnt just yet as he was in the process of looping around to get to Toby), one would feel the temeprature within five feet of Toby suddenly increase to something along the line of a warm sunny day at the beach. Pucular right? Odd to.... {Solar lvl 1: Phase of the starting point}
18:10:00 Ashcroft –[Aristotle’s Blade.] Through the revolver’s sight, Ashcroft could see the surrender in Angelo’s face. An unspoken acceptance of the proposition as it seemed, the hunter nodded pleasingly. The battle of close quarters was fun but it was likely both parties participating saw some sort of bore. As long as he clutched the Confederate’s wrist, all drifted into one-sidedness. Anyways, the reluctant arm let the weapon fall slowly to his side, still cocked and ready. The man’s wrist was released before the gun broke aim, a pre-caution if you would. This time Angelo’s question was answered quickly, “If ya’ll put it tha way, sure.” A twitch and lower of Ashcroft’s helmet – A sly look gone unseen by the opponent, but for theatrics it was not. The ending curl of the word and the Ari’ni would wait until Angelo turned around, “Ya’ll face tha otha’ direct’chen, twen’y paces,” He gave little room for negotiation or protest, having been the one not the pull the trigger. The Ari’ni would turn the moment the
18:10:15 [Ashcroft] opponent would, or else the two would be left waiting. Maybe that was something they wished to dive into? Perhaps another close-quarter with projectiles? Anyways, before the two would walk away, Ashcroft would have reached into his pocket and snatched an object. It was a shiny cigarette box sized of a somewhat tarnished metal. Yet it still managed to reflect everything, the image of the hunter’s suit shaking. It was held up as the two began to walk away, raised about shoulder height. Clop, clop, clop… Footsteps calculative, ready to redirect as anxiety rose. Mors found the acid upon his paw and leg to be unpleasant, the first feeling of dipping one’s feet into hot water. This pain subsided shortly into a stinging, less that of poison oak. The beak of the sack would likely plant itself like a thorn in the creature’s paw. Something it had little time to deal with, the feeling of a pebble in one’s shoe. Mor’s pace quickened as he backpedaled, yes the hound is certainly a he. Its mouth opened <C>
18:10:39 [Ashcroft] incase it required to bring white daggers down upon an incoming attack. George’s swelling image mirrored by irisless orbs of four, nictitating membrane sliding over, obscuring it. The hound’s position was away from crushing distance, its ass that was once in the air now lowering. Suddenly that giant hooked limb would thrust forward, likely ready to snatch at Mors head. Once the scythe was nearing proximity, the hound’s upper-body would raise and twist just as its leapt back – Arching as well with mouth opening wide. Its legs flung and slid to its left, allowing the body to maneuver in such a fashion. Simultaneously its head would be ducked, jaws sideways to subsequently close upon the mantis’ weapon. Shing! Its left arm raised as it sidestepped, attempting to place that heavy paw on the armored limb. The pressure of the locking jaws and the size of those teeth, it would be unlikely even the insect’s armor could hold up. The hound wasted little time if it latched on, quickly jerking about to tear it <C>
18:11:37 [Ashcroft] in half – Least damage the beast. The other limb? Mors’ opposite paw would be curled at the chest, almost like one does to describe a squirrel. That weren’t enough, Mors weight was likely keeping the limb down. Although it was day, the globs of luminosity could be seen dancing in the above the blood-stained sands. The turtle began to glow as well, which usually meant a charging of sorts. This gathering would cause the influence that had dyed the tortoise’s shell to double its expansion. Feeding the fire droplets of gasoline at a time until you realize you’ve gone up in flames. The aerial manta began to glow once more as its path curved and it was now facing Toby’s general direction. The humming was now seething from beneath the dim colors of white. However, the netherhawk cared little of its adversary’s glow until it found itself threatened, but still remained cautious. [Angelo: Nether Mark 26%] [Toby: Netherous Embrace 58%]
18:49:27 Angelo Twenty paces and the west would be under fire again. Sighing some, the Confederate did as instructed, motioning his gun up toh is face while he slowly turned and paced forward, his right hand reaching into his right pocket producing two bullets as he went, one had a normal gold plated tip like normal bullets did and was the same size an actual magnum round was while the other was...Different. It was bigger, nearly seventy five percent as big as the guns chambers (which were big to beginw ith) and had a more black colored body and the very top of it being a dark blue cort of color. Calmly while Angelo walked he fwipped the chamber of grantslayer out, put the two new bullets it and clacked it back in place, noting he had only two more paces to go before he could honorably if Croft allowed) turn and let lose a bullet, which he would do upon reaching those two steps, pivoting slightly to face the hunter again, eye the area to see if he was clear to see, then in a blink (if he could see Ashcroft) aim (just-
18:49:33 Angelo -above the hunters midsection if he could) and let lose a bullet from the mighty magnum and immediately dart to the side, keeping his movements paced and quick while he sought his own viable cover for the True brutal gunfight that would now commence. As for Mors...He was caught in a way and let lose a shriek of incredibly loud pain as it's limb was suddenly bitten into. Green blood spurted fromt he armored claw as sharp fangs embedded into it's limb, the bug hissing when all was done, knowing at this certain point it was not strong enough to wrench it free or something of the like so as it had been, it improvised; Planting three of it's small yet oddly strong bug like legs into the ground while the fourth (it's left leg), bended in a flexible manor, the small points of it's barbed foot pointed at the hound with a resounding pop noise before quickly being thrust forward in an attempt to land close upon the area were Mor's right sided eyes just as he landed and tried to begin wrenching the hook arm off of-
18:49:38 [Angelo] me -George's body, the foot/leg, though small and not as powered as usual a deadly force still to content with as the barbs of it's feet (which most insects had to walk on almost anything) were small,b ut numerous and as sharp as it's hook arms barbs (despite being smaller, also not, those hook arm barbs should be felt a little when Mors bite into it, wont be the most painful thing but it's cut inner mouth skin a bit), this a win win for George as he didnt need All his legs to stand, and if Mors opted to try and swipe it away with his waiting claw (which George had seen of course), George would react by immediately swooping down it's other free hook arm, which, despite the loss of strength, was one of George's deadliest blows as it used All the muscles in the limb, the hook arm had those barbs mentioned, And even without it's full strength this blow (which was aimed at the connecting point of Mors back and neck) was known to dent steel and other high grade metals, even with slightly strength loss (at full-
18:49:47 Angelo -strength, such metals could be torn asunder by such a blow). Also, if that wasnt enough, and somehow if all failed (or if one part of the counter was successful) George would do something possibly unexpected, that hop forward slightly while suddenly slamming it's head down, mouth again, basically in a attempt to latch onto one of the sides of Mor's face if it could with those evil looking mandibles it had (filled with acid mind) you. A shmorgishmore of Fun, all the while the Turtle had regained it's wits up in the air, yet opting to stay turning and such like it was still dazed in it's float. The turtle (not tortoise) was thinking, closing it's eyes and focusing on Ebons frame, studying it's odd flight patterns for a minute (still glowing mind you), and nodding once it had devised a plan. At that moment the Hawk seemed to approaching the turtle at a cautious rate, but upon further study (were in Toby's odd twirling floating rotation), one would notice that a portion of the orange glowing upon the turtles
18:49:53 Angelo -shell had suddenly stopped glowing, and from within the small heat sphere the turtle seemed to create, seven strands of odd airy like anomalies begun to float forward, one bigger then the rest while the rest were generally small (imagine snake and baby snake size), slowly heading towards Ebon yet, not feeling bad. Once they were within a certain distance of Ebon (about five or so feet) a sort of cracking sound would emit, followed by the odd transparent yet faintly orange colored anomalies quickly bolting forward, twirling in mid air then seemingly combining in a small display of quick wind and heat (which Ebon possibly would not like to touch, even though it was still at beach level heat), and suddenly, a second later, reappear as a orange glowing tribal sort of flower like shape, one that had a small hallow inner circle, an outer big circle, and five little triangle shaped points. It was a crooked ragy thing, but it floated before Ebon, glowing an oddly comforting color of Orange and letting lose-
18:50:04 Angelo -a comfortable level of heat, and was far out of the way from touching Ebon (having somehow backpedaled once it took shape, standing ten feet from Ebon rather then five like before), it just simply floating there as suddenly, Toby acted, righting itself to not be twirling in the air, anymore, shifting it's head left to right, then calmly moving so it was out of this weird field it felt about it, the small expanding sphere of heat about it still there, but as (seemingly) harmless as it had been before. Not that the orange lines about Toby's shell were still glowing, but if one were to look, they would see, that the upper right corner of Toby's shell had...A small pattern missing. If one looked further they would see that upon the turtles shell (aside from other sorts of lines) those same odd tribal flower designs were on the other three corners, only the upper most was missing and apparently had been willed to float about in front of Ebon. Curious no? {Toby: Solar Lv 1.1: Phase of the starting point}
18:21:22 Ashcroft –[An Upper View.] The hunter began to hum to the tempo of his own gait, carefree almost as he stared into the tin’s reflective surface. Through a moving image he observed his opponent’s shrinking form, keeping close eye on the midsection. Cliiick… Blackened thumb sliding the hammer back as he raised the revolver parallel to his shoulder. The final pace came shortly; one eventually must cue the music, in many ways than one. Ashcroft watched as the Confederate began to turn, yet simply pointed the weapon over his shoulder and fired. The recoiled backwards, the boom replaced the vacuumed screech of an implosion. The round would curve much like a baseball, but still a blur to the eyes. There was a flash of blue just before the sound, a trail of arching residue fading into the atmosphere. Just as the gun stopped, that dreadful click of the hammer would come again. Subsequently it was followed by a series of clicks as the current capsule’s energy faded. The chamber quickly <C>
18:21:48 [Ashcroft] quickly rotated counter-clockwise to the next source. The soft whizzing of gears and passing over notches could be heard, faintly. Just after the first shot, Ashcroft would rotate his torso, left shoulder forward to the right guided by its outstretched arm. Spinning on his shoed-hoof, the Ari’ni would reposition so his side was facing the Confederate - Feet shoulder width apart. Cheek… The chamber was locked, Ashcroft already beginning to strafe to his left. If the hunter was betwixt sections, he would make his way behind the side of a seat to keep his head low. With box still in hand, Ashcroft raised it just high enough to see over the rows but not enough to risk one’s hand. The hound continued to jerk about with jaws clamped, gnawing if the target was still enough – The mantis was weak, so likely there was some gnawing. Almost like a mouth full of scissors, separating what bonds there were. The cuts within the mouth were minimal; not nearly enough blood to stain the saliva’s <C>
21:41:52 Angelo -this in mind, one had to note the rather normal looking Florida box turtle known as Toby sitting atop his head, gazing down at him with those content beady brown eyes. "Yeah I know it isnt Toby..." The southern laced words spoke lowly just as the Confederate reached with one of those thin arms to lightly rub the neck of the turtle, who just continued to look down at Angelo, actually worried. Chess pieces set, let all take place after that.
22:09:12 [Ashcroft] /me –[Momentary.] A clopping rhythm echoed from the eastern entrance, growing as something approached. Suddenly a familiar beast would come into view as it left the tunnel. It let loose a deep cry similar to that of a dolphin. The creature circled around above, its great wingspan displayed for the citizens below. Soon a midsized man would emerge beneath the archway, dressed in debonair ala crème. Ashcroft… It was an 1800’s style suit of subtle cream to compliment his dark skin and armor. The clopping was now barely audible as he stepped to the edge of the steps between rows. Following behind was an immense beast with various bags strapped to its eerie, leathery body. Each pack secured with care, fastened and locked by a single button. Screwed to its head were metalloid plates lined with a rubber-like substance. “Well, boys, ain’ we in our world,” The hunter adjusted his black, silken tie wrapped around his collar. Mors stopped just behind the hunter, sitting upon its haunches <C>
22:09:31 [Ashcroft] with legs thrown about. Strangely, the hunter carried only two knives and a revolver holstered at his hip. There were various pouches on his belt but none too interesting or known. The only armor seen was his helmet and neck-guard shining dully, yet his suit seemed a bit more puffy than usual. Regardless, Ashcroft lingered at the head of the stairs before casually stepping down. His gloved hands retired behind him, linked together for some comfort. He spotted Angelo as he entered before, having an unseen gaze upon the confederate hobo living in the battlegrounds. “Howdy, partna,” He an upnod as he continued his descent to the arena’s railing. The hound followed behind, musical spines convulsing in subtle cacophony.
22:20:10 Angelo 's ear twitched at the turtles head suddenly moved up as if it had just heard/smelt something and turned in it's place look in the direction it had smelt something. "I heard, I didnt smell, bud." The Confederates words were low. It could of been a horse, hell it could of been any kind of animal with hooves coming into the Arena, only problem was when Animals with hooves walked they had Four hooves and made a distinct hooved sound, this one...well it only had the distinct sound of Two hoves rather then four and unless it was a fuckin' demon or something Angelo figured he knew what it was. "Sport..." Was all he said in regards to the hunters greeting, the turtle however did a few things: One, look at Ashcroft, second look at the Legendary Mors, and third look up were it swore it smelt some sort of object that seemed hawkish yet...Foriegn, spotting Ebon a second later. Suddenly without warning the turtle drew it's head back slightly then jut it out again. "...E!" Releasing a pathetic little squeak that-
22:20:16 Angelo -sounded just like the quoted letter. "How can I help ya sport?" The words were as they usually were, southern laced yet oddly low, as if conveying the sense of sadness about the Confederates frame. While speaking the Confederate interlaced his hands and set his chin atop the knuckles, ears acutely open, along with the turtle who...Oddly enough produced a little green marble from it's mouth, poking it out with it's tongue and having it colide with the ground below, looking down at it for a moment before looking back up, scanning the newcommer but particularly the flying one. Angelo NEVER mentioned Ebon to the turtle, and he in particular had Toby intrigued.
22:36:22 [Ashcroft] /me –[Epicenter of Speaking.] Ebon maintained its glide above their heads, the edges of its wingspan beginning to sparkle like the sands below. Ashcroft strode toward Angelo’s row between the upright seats, hands still connected behind him. The question would go unanswered until the Ari’ni grew closer, “Nothin’, just goin’ for a gentlemen’s stroll.” He explained, looking around the area before settling back on Angelo. Mors did not wish to venture past the seats, its front paws upon the seats. Its skeletal tail swayed behind its enormous body, through the air without sound. “You still makin’ this place yer place o’ rest?” He asked, gesturing the stands and pit with those long-nailed digits after his hands were released. Ashcroft was waiting for an answer, Ebon and Mors anticipating a potential fray. Of course these two were known for their violence on one another and the area around them. Even the partnership was filled with chaos. Anyways, it has been a while since the hunter spoke to the <C>
22:36:44 [Ashcroft] confederate, and a first with all his animals on the field. Slowly those hands slipped behind his new coat again - Thumb and index of the left wrapped around the opposite wrist in a loose grip.
22:44:26 Angelo "You can say it is on and off sport." The Confederate noted how the clops of the hunter got closer and closer. That was different and though he didnt show it, Angelo was more alert then ever. "Place has always been like a home to me, might look like a bumb when I lounge 'round here but...What do I care eh?" The turtle atop his head kept his eyes squarely on the two animals in the back, it's eyes squinting as it did looking down for a moment towards were the marble it had unleashed landed, noting how it suddenly broke and dissipated into thin air, a small thin white line right on the spot were it had fallen and oddly enough that line began to grow. "Ya plan on attacking me again Sport?" The question was rather sudden from Angelos lips, considering he didnt need a reason to...ok I lie, he was always a little prepped and ready to go when Ashcroft was around, even if the hunter didnt have weapons around. "I dont have much more teath to spare, and I doubt yer into the human skin or nail or hair trade so aside-
22:44:34 Angelo -from all that...Dont know, if ya pummel me ya dont got much to get aside from my weapons which, judging by yer own arsenol and pets, you Really dont need." Maybe a last ditch effort in what Angelo knew would surely become a hellhole within seconds, but hey Angelo was Angelo, if there was a chance to stop there was a chance to stop even if it was nonexistent.
21:07:53 [Ashcroft] /me –[Oversight.] The Confederate was habitually a talker. On and on those lips moved, telling of his day to the nicely dressed Ari’ni. It was like speaking to a bum, but in reality one could see it as titled. Finally that all important question arose, perking interest in the attentive hunter. The matter of combat, something those two bring whenever one is to encounter the other. Ashcroft’s chin inclined, “Well nao, jumpin’ from tha talk o’ yer dandy little livin’… Quarters to the subject o’ fightin’?” He laughed, hand slipping casually over his gun’s handle, “Why on Earth would ya’ll ask that?” Of course the sarcasm was light in the voice, but it was merely the tone. Regardless, Ashcroft soon caught wind of backpedaling, “Don’ worry, ya’ll might not even lose anythin’ if tha’ be the case.” If one could see, the hunter would be wearing a <i>shit-eating grin<i>. The manta continued to circle the area, image beginning to distort while a subtle glow seethed from the warping. Almost a <C>
21:08:26 [Ashcroft] chaotic shimmer as this influence danced about Ebon. The immense beast’s great maws began to open, cave of daggers seemingly ready to smash down on something. “Now ya’ll just wanna talk or ya’ll gonna throw that first punch,” So sudden he was. “If yer talkin’, why not act.,” A dare if it wasn’t obvious enough.
21:27:28 Angelo spoke not again, it would prove useless if he did. Instead something odd happened. That mentioned white line that had begun to grow? Well it had grown quite a bit in such a short amount of time, up until it was ten feet, and then suddenly without warning a sort gale of wind shot fourth as the line seemed to spread outward until it was a ten foot tall twelve foot wide circle of some sort, a sort of green colored misty like substance replacing the random bursting gail of wind, turning the once oddly bright circle of light into a bright circle of light green. As if that wasnt weird enough, a few seconds after that a loud roar that sounded like something crossed with a Gyaos and Nazgul emmited from the odd light green lit circle, followed by a pair of barbed hook like things latching onto one of the very ends of the circle, suddenly pulling up with abdrupt force and springing fourth from his home, George the Gaint Praying mantis. How big was he? Imagine a normal mantis only about thirteen feet tall and-
21:27:34 Angelo -sharper looking, and weighing well over seventeen hundred pounds. George moved it's large bulbous eyes about the area slightly (not, once he fully sprouted up the hole vanished just like that), letting lose another primal primitive roar before suddenly stalling in place, turning it's head towards the right some to eye the turtle that was once atop Angelo head. I say once because while all that BS with the apparent dimensional circle went down Angelo moved and the turtle stayed in the place it once sat in actually floating in mid air. The mantis tilted it's head at the turtle eyeing it before turning to Ashcroft for a second, turning it's head upwards to eye Ebon for even less then a second, then finally turning it's head to look at the Netherhound, Mors. It's eyes seemed to squint as it looked at he smaller creature, then with a huff, George turned (ignoring all else, having found it's suggested target) to look squarely at the hound, rearing it's torso back a little once doing so then thrusting it-
21:27:39 Angelo -forward, springing it's hook like claw arms forward (though not in an attack way), letting lose one of those soul piercing loud shrieks while doing so, as you'd expect challenging the superioty of the hound itself. Now remember the floating turtle? Well after somehow dealing with George, it's sights went back up to the Netherhawk known as Ebon. Close it's eyes for a second, a sort of sucking of air like sound taking place as it suddenly vanished. Were to? Well, believe it or not, within an instant the turtle appeared but ten feet away from the Netherhawk, floating perfectly in the air just looking at the Netherhawk with curiosity in it's eye, the sudden movement meant to get the Hawks full intention rather then attack or challenge like George did. As for Angelo? Well remember how I said he moved? He moved while the rather Distracting feet of George sprouting of nowhere commenced, off to his own left and in true Gunslinger like fashion, found himself in front of a seat, gun drawn in his left hand (loaded-
21:27:44 [Angelo] me -of course) with the hammer pulled back a sort of neutral emotionless frown on his face as he lit the fireworks off by letting lose a powerful thick round from the mighty magnum known as Grantslayer, aiming for the hunters rib cage, knees bent slightly, his right hand gripped on the neck of his sheathed saber (which was held up by bindings on his left side). Let hell break lose nao.
22:21:29 [Ashcroft] /me –[Mostly Peanuts.] The whole events preceding the actual appearance of the portal went ignored by Ashcroft. He relied on the netherhawk above to warn or otherwise defend its master anyway it can. The aforementioned gust slammed into Ashcroft’s back, his coat waving as wind passed. Just as this occurred, the hunter’s thumb slid over the hammer. He promptly pulled it back, fingers hanging over the handle in anticipation. Even with a potential threat behind him screeching, Ashcroft still paid no mind. Suddenly the moment came when Angelo’s form would stir. There were many actions but all seemed fluid when exercised. The hunter acted almost on reflex just as the gun was raised. His left leg slid in front of the other in a quarter-circle while his free hand shot out to Angelo’s now rising arm. Ashcroft attempted to interrupt before the opponent’s barrel could even glance toward him. They were in close quarters, so the battle would be tricky. He would try to redirect the man’s arm downward while <C>
22:21:54 [Ashcroft] pointing away from the legs. Deftly the hunter’s own fancy revolver would be drawn and kept close to the body. The hunter wasted no time pulling the trigger the moment he aimed for the abdomen or mid-chest. Pfft! There was little recoil as a glimmering blur spun out from the nozzle. A puff of sparkling gas escaped just after the projectile left. Meanwhile, Mors seemed to be attracted to the presence manifesting behind them. The hound’s massive paws dropped to the floor, turning to display with body lowered. It was suspicious of this anomaly, shown through its erratic cacophony of spines. The creature stopped at a respectable distance to observe events following. The towering mantis reflected in those soulless orbs of Mors, letting loose a most frightful roar. The hound instinctively reacted to the challenging behavior with its own shrill cry that would feel like nails on a chalkboard. If another came, Mors would let loose during in some sort of silencing technique. The creature’s mouth <C>
22:22:18 [Ashcroft] opened slightly as its back legs rose and its upper-body remained near the floor. Ebon’s troubles? There were none as merely a supernatural turtle appeared in his airspace. The aerial manta observed the energy influx to relocate the reptile nearby, but still chose to be inert. Once Toby came into sight of the naked-eye, Ebon swiftly curved its body for a long-turn over the turtle. Was it an attack? Probably not as the netherhawk has no real visible offensive capability. One could hear a slight hum emit from the flying manta if close enough, almost a catchy tempo. Even though a foreign individual encroached, Ebon still kept an eye on the inhabitants.
22:39:35 Angelo More closer then he anticipated, apparently. There was little he could do in terms of getting his gun away, but the hunters own pistol brought fourth an opportunity for the Confederate. As Ashcroft was close enough to be within eyesights of Angelo, Angelo in turn could act upon what he saw and what he saw was Ashcrofts own quick draw attempt towards him, which Angelo acted upon in turn by releasing the hold on his blade (with his right hand) and thrusting his right hand quickly towards the closest side of the hunters pistol, intending first to smack it off course then in a quick motion have his fingers (attempt) to curl on what they could grab and yank it back slightly. It might've seemed like an odd position given the hunter's left was parallel with Angelos own left, but as he seemed to knock Angelos own gun downward rather then side to side, the possible motions Angelo attempted were possible (despite Angelo having to reach with the full height of those long arms of his), a sort of tug of war with him-
22:39:40 Angelo -tugging on his own gun to get it back while also pulling on the hunters gun (if all went as planned), feet planted squarely to make the playing field even. As for the pets, George answered back to Mors warcry with a half a screech, opting to quickly step forward, stop, and suddenly thrash the long (about five and a half feet) left hook arm limb forward, intending to bash the barbed end into the general shoulder area of the hound with fierce stone splitting force, the right hook claw being kept back in what seemed like a sort of planned move, one that made the insect attack, yet also not leave it completely open. As for Toby, he noticed the hawk was ignoring it like it was nothing and decided that was rude and it needed to be punished, and thus he floated upward until he hovered over the large bird, scanning it for a second before landing on the soft side of it, the turtle near weightless (weighing less then a pound) as it did, sniffing the back of the creature before suddenly digging it's sharp nails-
22:39:48 Angelo -into the skin it landed on (unless something was done) and by Dig I do mean dig, not just firmly plant on the Hawk, actually push into it's skin to try to get it to bleed. No magic involved on the turtle part, just a little flying and a simple small nail attack to get blood flowing.
15:36:33 Ashcroft –[“I will not allow.”] A play of abruption, the two having leaped into conflict. It continued with Ashcroft clutching the opponent’s wrist, drawing his own revolver from its holster. Angelo quickly attempted to seize the Ari’ni’s weapon from over his own arm. Without hesitation that redirected limb would be raised to intercept the approaching hand, the armed hand looping down. The single barrel spiraling into darkness would be aimed at the region of Angelo’s hip or thigh. Pulling the trigger, a bolt of gaseous blue-black energy launched forth. The gun recoiled only slightly, the pfft and ting of the hammer sounding almost in unison. The space surrounding the projectile shimmered, phasing sporadically as light danced about it. Meanwhile, Mors had his own troubles with Angelo’s own pet. The mantis’ every movement down to the most minuscule measurement was monitored by the hound. Each disturbance bounced off those convulsing spines, using its own outer-waves to detect. The moment <C>
15:37:02 [Ashcroft] that creature began to swing its armored limb, Mors would act. Its upper-body leaping with its great right paw rose. It would be brought down upon the insect’s scythe once within striking distance. Utilizing its weight as well, Mors was attempting to pin that limb or at least block it. If there were barbs on the sides, the skin of its under-paws would dull the piercing. Its mouth remained slightly open, ready to turn and bite down upon the other limb if need be. Ebon’s situation was still nothing to worry about. The levitating reptile made a sudden approach toward the netherhawk whose eyes witnessed such an endeavor. Once Toby was nearby, the aerial manta was drawing on residual energy of the turtle. It wasted little time when its target approached, its blurring image disappearing. Just as it seemingly imploded, it would appear a respectable distance of three feet from the Toby simultaneously. However the netherhawk would be preceded by an intense spherical blast of excess energy. Slowly the <C>
15:38:44 [Ashcroft] aerial creature would emerge as the light subsided from sight. A subtle glow still illuminated its form, of which was most intense with the glowing sacs.
15:57:11 Angelo Well Angelo seemed to be in a sort of fix like he usually got himself into. Flinching slightly as his hand was basically knocked off course, Angelo acted in term, figuring when the weapon was drawn it was aiming towards his left (as it was closest to Croft), Angleo with an iron grip on his gun shuffled slightly with his feet towards his own right, (most likely) narrowly avoiding the bullet as it came, though the fing zinged slightly towards his left hip, causing him to flinch again, though he acted as he moved (slightly mind you, his movements werent Anything extreme), his left hand now gripped by the rist worked to move inward and up slightly, the hammer drawn back on the gun it held, the finger upon the trigger pulled and letting lose a bullet (possible as even though Angelo's wrist was grabbed, unless you had the hold of a hammer, a wrist could still ever which way and such), Angelo hoping to set a bullet lose upon Crofts center to left mid section, figuring he wore armor so even if the normal magnum-
15:57:17 Angelo -round hit him, it'd probably just dent the alien armor and such beneath that suit the hunter wore (though I could be wrong, though I doubt it). Meanwhile, Georges first strike was set off course with a simply quick flick of Mors paw was pinned and hooked into the ground (though Mors would find itself a bit hard pressed to keep it there even with it's weight advantage as George was REALLY strong), and instead of opting to use it's other arm, the insect opted to use it's own little custom ability fitted in by it's master; that being an open of it's mouth (as soon as Mors pinned it's limb mind you) and letting lose a sudden random burst of an Acid, aimed at Mors Face (able to do so via two sets of four acid pours installed in the base of the bugs mouth, neck, and outside it's stomach). Did Mors have a tough hide? Yes probably one of the strongest in the Nexxus, probably easily capable of withstanding such a blast, but could it's Eyes withstand such a sudden burst? Details are details so we'll have to wait-
15:57:23 Angelo -and see (let it be known to that since George had such an ability it's outter carapace was highly durable to the acid blast as well, thus it wast worried about melting it's own extended arm and suhc). Once this was done, George would have to wait a bit as the results of such an attack could be varied, though while this occured the battle in the sky still seemed to be taking off, Toby having missed it's target and was left blinking and floating about were it missed, looking were the aerial beast had seemingly teleported away to, squinting at it, the turtle eyes suddenly becoming a light shade of red as it did so, opting to withdraw it's hind legs suddenly and...Well has anyone ever seen a Gamera film? If you know what I'm talking about imagine Gamera flying with it's jet propulsion flame emitting holes (were it's legs stuck out of) only a billion or so times smaller yet somehow quicker, the turtle flying through the air, head withdrawn slightly as it headed quickly towards the hawk in what had to be the-
15:57:29 Angelo -the most Epic sort of shell but a turtle could commence on another living creature.
17:16:56 Ashcroft –[Consequential Hand.] Lucky was the opponent’s evasion, but still even Ashcroft had to tip his metaphorical hat. The gaseous bolts passed by Angelo’s shifting hip, dispersing in a wooph! as it hit the chair. It was not long until the Confederate sought to utilize his revolver held by his captured arm. Ashcroft’s left turned back while spinning on his shoed, right hoof. Another quarter-circle repositioned his left foot slightly behind the other, having Ashcroft’s right side face Angelo’s left. During this, the Ari’ni would pull the Confederate’s forearm against an armored upper-abdomen. Tihun’s Shot was then easily redirected to the man’s side. A likely repeat of evasion was foreseen but easily dealt with using a flick of the wrist. However, the arm was curled to allow the weapon to remain close and possibly out of reach. Boom! A sound that reverberated against the stone infrastructure as Mors pinned George’s scythe. But soon a dirty trick arose from the armored bug, spewing an <C>
17:17:27 [Ashcroft] acidic substance in onto Mors’ face. Fortunately the jet had little to no effect upon the exoskeletal head, but did bring an irritation to what skin there was. A yellow rash spread across where the liquid made contact, painful despite the touched areas being so small. The bone was composed of material resistant to the most powerful of oxidizing agents. Their instinctive diet was to provide chemical stabilization. Hissing, the hound leapt off promptly and backpedaled with its upper-body lowered. It managed to close its eyes just in time, but still did not escape the sting. Ebon’s blast sent Toby flying backwards through the air about fifty feet (As discussed) until kinetic energy subsided. Unfortunately the influx being so close, the target that survived would be left with near debilitating confusion. The energy more than likely disrupting what subconscious this reptile had. The shell evidently protected it from physical harm, the netherhawk caring only for the defense nonetheless. Once the shelled <C>
17:18:18 [Ashcroft] creature was launched, the aerial manta would begin its glide over. Its grey body slowly began to glow, emitting a barely audible hum. [Toby: Quantum Daze: 1P]
18:51:51 Angelo shot the shot but missed, the bullet traveling from the chamber of the gun out into a chair and through that into another chair and through that until it eventually stopped in the third chair behind that. Quite the powerhouse but that didnt matter at the moment as the hunter moved. Not one to let a better position get the better of him Angelo moved as well, quickly stepping his feet diagonally towards the hunters left, and as he did this one could noticeably see Angelo's right hand reaching his right pocket (were he kept most of the bullets for Grantslayer) and producing a rather Silver colored bullet to which he would throw forward inbetween Ashcrofts legs and onto the ground just behind him (or one of the steps of the Arena). Odd, why would he waste a bullet like that? Well to be quite blunt it was one of the custom bullets Angelo liked to call the 'Stick Grenade'. Usually when he shot such a bright bullet from the magnum its tough thin metal exterior dug into the person or ground it hit, then within a
18:52:14 Angelo -few seconds exploded with half the force of a normal grenade (due to it basically being a smaller grenade in general). In short the round was a sort of half powered mini shrapnel grenade, though still Angelo was dumb for not loading it into his gun right? Wrong! As stated it was like a half grenade, and as with All grenades, it could be hand operated, not just gun operated and as you'd expect, Angelo took advantage of this situation, basically trying to distract Ashcroft with what seemed like a bad attempt to get were he originally was, while at the same time tossing the mini half grenade (which would not kill Ashcroft of course, given it was half the force of a normal grenade and that Ashcroft wore that armor), and hoping the possible result of it exploding a second or two later did a Little bit of damage and got Ashcroft of course enough for Angelo to pull his arm back and, slid his feet backward, pull the hammer of his gun back and aim it at Ashcrofts shoulder (from a distance). While this feint-
18:52:33 Angelo –attack went on, George sensed slight weakness in it's fo, quickly stepping forward with quick steps once the hound hoped back, drawing the barbed hook arm that had been hit to the ground back and striking at Mors again, trying to keep on him while the getting was good (and possibly get to him while his eyes were closed) and land a crushing blow on the area it had aimed for earlier, mouth agape, wanting to maim (as it had been ordered to do) and eat what it could dislodge. Surprisingly enough Toby started off just as bad as Angelo did, having been flung fifty feet in the air in such a way that had made him dizzy (but still able to fly), the turtle floating like he was in space, eyes rolling slightly as it quickly by the second got it's composure back, and when it did...Oh boy, but for now there was little it could do.
19:51:10 [Ashcroft] /me –[Admiration.] Pieces of seats peppered the stands as the bullet blasted through. Such an action was ignored by the hunter, keeping the Confederate’s image on his helmet’s lenses. It was unlikely that the opponent’s shifting would go unnoticed by an individual with four eyes. A simple redirection as Angelo’s body turned, Tihun’s Shot’s black gaze upon that wife beater’s<i> incoming torso. <i>Puffft! The gun would convulse and recoil upon its trigger being pulled, unleashing a gaseous black energy. Blue seethed from beneath the now phasing smog, flickering like an old television. This familiar projectile had a radius this time, fluctuating in growth and loss of diameter. Ashcroft’s thumb promptly hooked the hammer, pulling it back as he swung the firearm toward the Confederate’s abdomen. But firing right there? No, he would only pull that trigger again if the target was not still. The attack prior was before Angelo was about to throw the <i>bull-renade<i>. Ashcroft took the risk of the <C>
19:51:32 [Ashcroft] opponent tossing it regardless in order to mark the prey. The range was close and the target was in motion, thus limiting one’s ability to evade. Problems for the Ari’ni were only few while Mors found himself face-to-face with a formidable foe. The giant mantis raised his scythe from stone floor and attempted another strike on the hound. A quick upper-body leap… A left paw was there to bat it away with great force just as it came near, reflexes and counters much like a feline. What about swipes? Well, those would be dealt with by merely leaping backwards. Its hind legs propelling it back, the frontal legs followed gracefully. Those spines shaking intermittently detected an approaching threat, each brief halt giving off an awareness radius. The beast had to buy himself sometime before he can whip out other instinctive tactics. Ebon’s troubles weren’t as bad as its endeavors focused on scaring the turtle away rather than harming it. The aerial manta neared the shelled reptile, body <C>
19:52:13 [Ashcroft] now giving off a dim glow as recognizable smog evaporated from its wingspan. Hmmmmmmm… A sound slithered through the hallways, a hum reverberating against the stone infrastructure. Ebon gave off this sound, it was an animalistic method of saying go away as it glided toward the disoriented turtle. [Toby: Quantum Daze 2P] [Toby: Powerless 1P]
20:13:54 Angelo Well, it was a go for a go I suppose. What was there to REALLY say for Angelo in general? He couldnt stop the previously mentioned motions as they were already in place even while Ashcroft spun his gun, so without further ado, we can say Angelo still flung that bullet as he had planned to (though, with Croft having his eyes on him again, he might be ab le to see it beforte it landed, though a few second detonation might not matter), and I assume as soon as Angleo threw, Croft shot and when this Angelo flinched a bit, the bullet/charged (as discussed) was not what one could call a kiler, but at the same a shot from Any gun hurt like heck, and for Angelo it left a bruise beneath his wife beater top. Realizing it wasnt a death sort of blow but perhaps one of those odd tracking thing Sport used before, Angelo moved quickly, rubbing the spot that the puff shot had hit before quickly shifting back via sliding his feet backwards (as much as I hate to say it) in a sort of moonwalk fashion, not To worried with-
20:13:59 Angelo -the hunter as he had a Grenade-bullet to worry about, but never the less keeping his eyes on him and Raising his own gun (grantslayer) quickly and expertly, hardly looking into the sights of the might magnum before letting lose a quick round from the gun (waiting if he had to if Ashcroft moved) intending to hit the hunter square on the right side of his abs with a powerful but non lethal (due to Sports Alien armor, most likely) round, Angelo constantly moving backward until he deemed it safe enough to dart onto his knees and behind one of the ends of the Arena's seating areas, right hand having reached into his right pocket, Angelo suddenly snapping the chamber of the gun out while under (possible) cover, loading one normal looking bullet in the chamber and an odd rugged dark blue tipped bullet into the next, snapping the chamber back in place when he was done and peaking his head out from under his (possible) cover to scan what he could see before wildly shooting. Meanwhile, George had to have been-
20:14:06 Angelo -doing the best out of everyone, seeing as he had Mors on the slight Retreat. At the motion of batting it's striking arm down again, the bug Immediatly punched it's right claw/hooked limb forward just as it's left hook arm was bated away, still moving forward as it did so, George's movements oddly simple and barbaric yet at the same time calculative as when the strike was done with (regardless of the outcome) the bug continued moving forwards at a quick yet oddly organized pace towards the hounds presence, idea in mind. Meanwhile, in the sky above, Toby had been having troubles of his own but found himself slowly recovered, no longer fully dizzy, able to see every which way and such but at the same time things still being a blur, but it moved it's head side to side and forward to get itself out of it's daze. Slowly it was happening but still, as he was before (as discussed) the turtle was dazed and confused and still simply floating, despite getting it's whits back at a good rate.
21:26:30 [Ashcroft] /me –[… To one’s Actions.] Angelo’s chest lit up in brilliant yellow, stained by foreign governing launched forth. It was almost an obstruction but still Ashcroft was able to see the opponent’s hand lift from his own pocket. A mere glimpse of something at the corner of his eyes, not knowing but wishing to not find out. The hunter slid his right foot behind the opponent’s just as he began to backpedal, subsequently spinning. He used the arm as an anchor point, long-nailed fingers soon around Angelo’s lower hand nearby the wrist. This was to inhibit the maneuverability of one’s wrist while keeping the arm outstretched was to allow the hunter control. Yes, still he would hold that arm for dear life, finding Grantslayer to be a powerful weapon. Hand-held artillery was not to be trifled wish and so he would continue. Anyways, Ashcroft slid his other hoof almost in a half-circle whilst redirecting the gun to the near-back of the head. Click! Pulling the hammer back again in mid-raise. The <C>
21:27:03 [Ashcroft] moment that barrel aligned with Angelo’s head, Ashcroft would immediately pull that trigger. Piffit! A glimmer in the eyes for a second as an object left the barrel quickly, blue gaseous excess following. All this in mere seconds, the rotation merely to evade what concussive force there was. The tail provided additional momentum to aid proper positioning. He seemed to even use the Confederate as sort of a meat-shield. Beyond their position… Bam! The first claw was batted away, the hound’s muscles rippling. The other limb came around just as Mors’ counter enabled him to push off. This allowed the hound to remain upright to meet the other claw with its opposite paw. Once all four were on the floor, Mors would scrunch its neck back before unleashing a devastating cry. Its high frequency would literally cause a slight distortion around the origin. The mantis’ antennae-sensors were likely to be irritated by such a shrill sound. Indeed the beast found itself in a problematic <C>
21:27:26 [Ashcroft] situation, facing something that stood upright normally. So Mors would wait, lower-body to the floor incase of another assault – Slowly strafing into a circle. Ebon’s plans became known as its form became engulfed by the space-warping presence. It would attempt to crash right into the turtle while it was stunned. Angelo was the only one who might know the result, but it was unlikely Toby did. Now moving at a subtle pace, almost like an average human sprint. [Toby: Quantum Daze 1P] [Toby: Powerless 1P] [Angelo: Nether Mark 20%]
21:57:55 Angelo An odd little thing occurred just as Ashcroft seemed to be successful in what could be a hock of his foot about Angelos, Angelo merely lifted it quickly and set it back down a foot away from were it once was, not getting caught in the hook leg of course, and changing plans (as from from what I read, things seemed to be going down Before Angelo let out a shot) using the left hand that held Grantslayer in it, and quite plainly aiming the gun at Sports chest and pulling the trigger at near Point-blank range (the hammer already being pulled back beforehand so he wasnt to worried about that) most likely catching the hunter dead center and stopping whatever rifled plans he had and allowing Angelo to (possibly) finally let lose that explosive round from his pocket, Angelo opting to be quicker then before, in turn (after throwing the bullet) pulling the hammer of the magnum back again and letting lose another round aimed at the hunters hip, figuring instead of back peddling, standing were he stood and unleash-
21:58:00 Angelo -another bullet as time eluded. A bit brutal? Yes, but if Ashcroft wanted to be smart, he'd probably back away before anymore rounds could get lose and possibly hit him. As for George, it seemed a stalemate was brewing, but immediatly finding it's second claw bashed away (and Mors slightly hoping back), the bug initiated what it had been planning. Secretly while George striked, it's head had oddly been reared back, and as stated Just as Mors hit the second limb and seemed to be backtracking, all of the bugs inner muscles (beneath it's exoskeleton armor) clenched and George let lose another one of it's custom abilities bestowed upon it by it's master: That being forcing one of the acid sacks in it's body to pop out of place, be dragged downward with it's inner clenched muscles, then suddenly launched from George's mouth with a flick of it's reared back head forward, the results (possibly) being the long (about a foot long) fleshy brown colored acid sack shooting from Georges mouth and aiming to gorge-
21:58:06 Angelo -into the underside of Mors as he hopped and bashed George's second claw away (possible, as the one end shot out moved quickly and had a sharp tip),, trying to take him by surprise and embed the sack a few inch's into his underside. Bad? Yes, as you can imagine, for after a few seconds passed, the sac now out of it's natural home would quiver and surprising explode in a good sized wave of acid if all went as planned. Crafty? Yes. Dirty? Very, but a bug was a bug and if all went as planned, Mors (though resistant to acid as George had found) would feel the affects regardless to an extent, which left George open to prance forward and launch something it's master called 'Bruce Leeing', the once rather powerful blows moving at a quick pace for which the martial art known as 'Mantis' was evolved from...Ok, that and it took a slight turn or two for Georges muscles to get up to completely full capacity after all the flexing and tensing done to release the sack. As for Toby, the hit...Hit and he went flying like-
21:58:12 Angelo -like a hockey puck, only stopping midriff, the turtle dazed (for the last turn from what I understand) but somehow more at it then before, shaking it's head in it's flight, having enough wits behind it to at least stop itself from going DBZ and crashing into the Arena grounds. That said, Toby still dazed but getting out of it...Better then nothing. (Also, let it be known that if somehow Angelos’s actions didn’t take place, with Croft in front of him and being able to be seen with his gun, Angelo would wait a second, then veer his head away from the intended shot…Just in case)
19:53:35 Ashcroft –[Average Duration.] The situation was progressing rapidly into something peculiar, not a blade on sight with guns in proximity. Ashcroft still had the human’s wrist in a, lack of a better term, vice-like grip – Not willing to release the limb. It was almost like clockwork when Angelo began to lift in an attempt to merely step over Ashcroft’s hoof. Leaning only slightly Ashcroft promptly lifted his digigrade leg, torso rotating as he would hook at or nearby the man’s ankle. All in attempt, unless Angelo wished to raise his leg higher, like one would do before stretching. The tug and lean was meant to distract as well as provide balance. However, the intended repositioning of the left would be somewhat cut short a little more than a quarter circle. Boom! It seemed time had slowed before the exploding bullet, yet it was nothing too lethal. It was significantly smaller than the hunter’s grenades, but still shrapnel was in the equation. My fuckin’ suit… A phrase likely thought <C>
19:54:03 [Ashcroft] as shards of metal embedded themselves into his scar tissue caused by intricate but painful sauntering ironesque job. Branding one could call it. Anyways, the stinging of the pieces bothered Ashcroft little, only the suit’s now torn sleeve brought focus. Finely crafted cream colored fabric ruined, some parts even singed. Trickles of light blue blood soon began to stain the already destroyed sleeve. Pa-ting-ting! The rest bounced off the armor, sparking just before their ricochet. Angelo was a larger target, likely to get a more drastic effect, just sayin’. Tihun Shot was swung about, redirected to the Confederate’s head. But there was no subsequent firing as that eye spiraling into darkness stared at the opponent. “We ain’ goin’ far, Mistah Zaraphan,” Ashcroft began, “How ‘bout we take our paces an’ settle this from afar.” A small laugh came muffled beneath the helmet, ready to fire during or after the sentence. The arm pulled with wrist clutched tightly. If the opponent wished <C>
19:54:35 [Ashcroft] to struggle further, then Ashcroft would simply fire a small unstable cluster of shimmering crystals. Kiish! Not even an inch and it would shatter like glass, releasing glowing shards. It was a closer version of Angelo’s attempt. What of Mors? The hound learned this creature had many tricks up its sleeve, especially that of ranged bio-weaponry. A sack likely filled with acidic fluid was quickly launched just as the other claw was batted away. Its presence was acknowledged as it entered the rhythmic radar, yet with its instincts the alternative was just as bad. Mors quickly brought his paw down upon the sack with eyes closed, disregarding the risk of it bursting. A risk it was willing to take to get back to the ground so it could back up a respectable distance. If bursting had occurred then the same affect would result, having a poison-oakesque rash of yellow. Painful it would be at first, but something not to be concerned about unless scratched at. Ebon and Toby’s match was pretty peculiar, <C>
19:55:07 [Ashcroft] not so much violence as a lightshow. The turtle’s disorientation was now fading, sight beginning to realign itself but not before the manta connected. Poof! Like a smoky apparition, Ebon passed through the turtle before emerging from its own cloud. The gaseous energy now shifting, particles coming together – Imagine if you would, dropping ink into water. Slowly the strange substance slithered through Toby’s form, dying the shell in charcoal. It returned to the aerial manta who was now circling now above the stands, hoping to loop back around. [Toby: Quantum Daze 1P] [Angelo: Nether Mark 23%] [Toby: Netherous Embrace 50%]
20:19:38 Angelo Well That ended on a high yet low note, just like most of Angleos doings. The bullet went off and it hit it's target in what could be described as a good affect, but just as bad for Angelo given a good part of the shrapnel went up and flew at him. It hurt, all the places they went into (moreso given Angelo barely wore any cover), mostly his right arm, along with a small portion of his hip, and a few shards just narrowly missing his face though cutting into it. Angelo winced at being hit by his own creation but couldnt do much else given he had a barrel in his face (though his own gunarm had not let up, having found itself in it's own right pointing at the stalled hunters side), Angelo going limp as the proposition was offered. It was lose lose for him regardless considering he probably would be seen werever he went but...hat choice did he have? Accept, or get a damn shotgun blast to the face. "...Back to back walk away then shoot and run? Sure." He mutered the words, eyeing the spots the shrapnel had hit-
20:19:53 Angelo -they bleeding the darkest of black blood. He awaited what could come next, while in the meanwhile it seemed Mors had found somewhat of an equal in George. The attack was partially successful in two ways; the first being that yes regardless, it would explode just as Mors bashed it into the ground (drenching his paw/leg in the same painful acidic qualities), but with an adverse affect, that being putting pressure on the sharp hardened end of the poison sac and forcing it to shot out towards Mors rear ankle. A short attack yes, but one that happened in a snap second and could possibly for once take the hound off guard. This all done, the bug let out a loud bark type of Screech, righting itself up to it's full height when Mors backed off and stepping forward with it's feet, it's clawed hands up in a casual sort of mantis fashion, a few inch's from its head, the multiple sturdy joints popping and in place just before George lashed out again with his right hooked arm, towards Mors head. Only difference this-
20:20:03 Angelo -time? Well, considering the bugs muscular system was still recovering from the sac launching, it was still not at its strongest peek (and wouldnt be for at least two turns) and though this seemed bad, one could gather it also had it's up as the recovering muscles within Georges body slightly thinned and made him more agile for a quick amount of time. This produced blows that (though not were strong enough to dent Dense metals and rip through steel easily) were still strong, but more apt on quantity and quickness, meaning just as soon as the strike was let lose, a half second later it was back and ready to go just as one would expect. This is what George would utilize for the moment, opting to stand upright, move forward to were Mors stood, and let lose a flurry of quick and rough blows upon the hounds frame (the first blow being towards his head, which as we all know isnt a smart move but...George isnt to smart either) once it was close enough, eyes clearly open and upon Mors frame as acid filled insect-
20:20:11 Angelo -mandibles clicked and salivated. The lightshow in the sky could be said to be going slowly, for Toby at least, him being dazed and all but at that moment, Toby had enough wits about him to at least plan something. Figuring the bird was smart enough to strike while the going was good, the turtle...Began to glow in his own respect. Not fully mind you, but the orange colored patterns on the top of his shell began to glow (the same color they originally were of course), seemingly harmless, though if one was close enough (which I assume Ebon wasnt just yet as he was in the process of looping around to get to Toby), one would feel the temeprature within five feet of Toby suddenly increase to something along the line of a warm sunny day at the beach. Pucular right? Odd to.... {Solar lvl 1: Phase of the starting point}
18:10:00 Ashcroft –[Aristotle’s Blade.] Through the revolver’s sight, Ashcroft could see the surrender in Angelo’s face. An unspoken acceptance of the proposition as it seemed, the hunter nodded pleasingly. The battle of close quarters was fun but it was likely both parties participating saw some sort of bore. As long as he clutched the Confederate’s wrist, all drifted into one-sidedness. Anyways, the reluctant arm let the weapon fall slowly to his side, still cocked and ready. The man’s wrist was released before the gun broke aim, a pre-caution if you would. This time Angelo’s question was answered quickly, “If ya’ll put it tha way, sure.” A twitch and lower of Ashcroft’s helmet – A sly look gone unseen by the opponent, but for theatrics it was not. The ending curl of the word and the Ari’ni would wait until Angelo turned around, “Ya’ll face tha otha’ direct’chen, twen’y paces,” He gave little room for negotiation or protest, having been the one not the pull the trigger. The Ari’ni would turn the moment the
18:10:15 [Ashcroft] opponent would, or else the two would be left waiting. Maybe that was something they wished to dive into? Perhaps another close-quarter with projectiles? Anyways, before the two would walk away, Ashcroft would have reached into his pocket and snatched an object. It was a shiny cigarette box sized of a somewhat tarnished metal. Yet it still managed to reflect everything, the image of the hunter’s suit shaking. It was held up as the two began to walk away, raised about shoulder height. Clop, clop, clop… Footsteps calculative, ready to redirect as anxiety rose. Mors found the acid upon his paw and leg to be unpleasant, the first feeling of dipping one’s feet into hot water. This pain subsided shortly into a stinging, less that of poison oak. The beak of the sack would likely plant itself like a thorn in the creature’s paw. Something it had little time to deal with, the feeling of a pebble in one’s shoe. Mor’s pace quickened as he backpedaled, yes the hound is certainly a he. Its mouth opened <C>
18:10:39 [Ashcroft] incase it required to bring white daggers down upon an incoming attack. George’s swelling image mirrored by irisless orbs of four, nictitating membrane sliding over, obscuring it. The hound’s position was away from crushing distance, its ass that was once in the air now lowering. Suddenly that giant hooked limb would thrust forward, likely ready to snatch at Mors head. Once the scythe was nearing proximity, the hound’s upper-body would raise and twist just as its leapt back – Arching as well with mouth opening wide. Its legs flung and slid to its left, allowing the body to maneuver in such a fashion. Simultaneously its head would be ducked, jaws sideways to subsequently close upon the mantis’ weapon. Shing! Its left arm raised as it sidestepped, attempting to place that heavy paw on the armored limb. The pressure of the locking jaws and the size of those teeth, it would be unlikely even the insect’s armor could hold up. The hound wasted little time if it latched on, quickly jerking about to tear it <C>
18:11:37 [Ashcroft] in half – Least damage the beast. The other limb? Mors’ opposite paw would be curled at the chest, almost like one does to describe a squirrel. That weren’t enough, Mors weight was likely keeping the limb down. Although it was day, the globs of luminosity could be seen dancing in the above the blood-stained sands. The turtle began to glow as well, which usually meant a charging of sorts. This gathering would cause the influence that had dyed the tortoise’s shell to double its expansion. Feeding the fire droplets of gasoline at a time until you realize you’ve gone up in flames. The aerial manta began to glow once more as its path curved and it was now facing Toby’s general direction. The humming was now seething from beneath the dim colors of white. However, the netherhawk cared little of its adversary’s glow until it found itself threatened, but still remained cautious. [Angelo: Nether Mark 26%] [Toby: Netherous Embrace 58%]
18:49:27 Angelo Twenty paces and the west would be under fire again. Sighing some, the Confederate did as instructed, motioning his gun up toh is face while he slowly turned and paced forward, his right hand reaching into his right pocket producing two bullets as he went, one had a normal gold plated tip like normal bullets did and was the same size an actual magnum round was while the other was...Different. It was bigger, nearly seventy five percent as big as the guns chambers (which were big to beginw ith) and had a more black colored body and the very top of it being a dark blue cort of color. Calmly while Angelo walked he fwipped the chamber of grantslayer out, put the two new bullets it and clacked it back in place, noting he had only two more paces to go before he could honorably if Croft allowed) turn and let lose a bullet, which he would do upon reaching those two steps, pivoting slightly to face the hunter again, eye the area to see if he was clear to see, then in a blink (if he could see Ashcroft) aim (just-
18:49:33 Angelo -above the hunters midsection if he could) and let lose a bullet from the mighty magnum and immediately dart to the side, keeping his movements paced and quick while he sought his own viable cover for the True brutal gunfight that would now commence. As for Mors...He was caught in a way and let lose a shriek of incredibly loud pain as it's limb was suddenly bitten into. Green blood spurted fromt he armored claw as sharp fangs embedded into it's limb, the bug hissing when all was done, knowing at this certain point it was not strong enough to wrench it free or something of the like so as it had been, it improvised; Planting three of it's small yet oddly strong bug like legs into the ground while the fourth (it's left leg), bended in a flexible manor, the small points of it's barbed foot pointed at the hound with a resounding pop noise before quickly being thrust forward in an attempt to land close upon the area were Mor's right sided eyes just as he landed and tried to begin wrenching the hook arm off of-
18:49:38 [Angelo] me -George's body, the foot/leg, though small and not as powered as usual a deadly force still to content with as the barbs of it's feet (which most insects had to walk on almost anything) were small,b ut numerous and as sharp as it's hook arms barbs (despite being smaller, also not, those hook arm barbs should be felt a little when Mors bite into it, wont be the most painful thing but it's cut inner mouth skin a bit), this a win win for George as he didnt need All his legs to stand, and if Mors opted to try and swipe it away with his waiting claw (which George had seen of course), George would react by immediately swooping down it's other free hook arm, which, despite the loss of strength, was one of George's deadliest blows as it used All the muscles in the limb, the hook arm had those barbs mentioned, And even without it's full strength this blow (which was aimed at the connecting point of Mors back and neck) was known to dent steel and other high grade metals, even with slightly strength loss (at full-
18:49:47 Angelo -strength, such metals could be torn asunder by such a blow). Also, if that wasnt enough, and somehow if all failed (or if one part of the counter was successful) George would do something possibly unexpected, that hop forward slightly while suddenly slamming it's head down, mouth again, basically in a attempt to latch onto one of the sides of Mor's face if it could with those evil looking mandibles it had (filled with acid mind) you. A shmorgishmore of Fun, all the while the Turtle had regained it's wits up in the air, yet opting to stay turning and such like it was still dazed in it's float. The turtle (not tortoise) was thinking, closing it's eyes and focusing on Ebons frame, studying it's odd flight patterns for a minute (still glowing mind you), and nodding once it had devised a plan. At that moment the Hawk seemed to approaching the turtle at a cautious rate, but upon further study (were in Toby's odd twirling floating rotation), one would notice that a portion of the orange glowing upon the turtles
18:49:53 Angelo -shell had suddenly stopped glowing, and from within the small heat sphere the turtle seemed to create, seven strands of odd airy like anomalies begun to float forward, one bigger then the rest while the rest were generally small (imagine snake and baby snake size), slowly heading towards Ebon yet, not feeling bad. Once they were within a certain distance of Ebon (about five or so feet) a sort of cracking sound would emit, followed by the odd transparent yet faintly orange colored anomalies quickly bolting forward, twirling in mid air then seemingly combining in a small display of quick wind and heat (which Ebon possibly would not like to touch, even though it was still at beach level heat), and suddenly, a second later, reappear as a orange glowing tribal sort of flower like shape, one that had a small hallow inner circle, an outer big circle, and five little triangle shaped points. It was a crooked ragy thing, but it floated before Ebon, glowing an oddly comforting color of Orange and letting lose-
18:50:04 Angelo -a comfortable level of heat, and was far out of the way from touching Ebon (having somehow backpedaled once it took shape, standing ten feet from Ebon rather then five like before), it just simply floating there as suddenly, Toby acted, righting itself to not be twirling in the air, anymore, shifting it's head left to right, then calmly moving so it was out of this weird field it felt about it, the small expanding sphere of heat about it still there, but as (seemingly) harmless as it had been before. Not that the orange lines about Toby's shell were still glowing, but if one were to look, they would see, that the upper right corner of Toby's shell had...A small pattern missing. If one looked further they would see that upon the turtles shell (aside from other sorts of lines) those same odd tribal flower designs were on the other three corners, only the upper most was missing and apparently had been willed to float about in front of Ebon. Curious no? {Toby: Solar Lv 1.1: Phase of the starting point}
18:21:22 Ashcroft –[An Upper View.] The hunter began to hum to the tempo of his own gait, carefree almost as he stared into the tin’s reflective surface. Through a moving image he observed his opponent’s shrinking form, keeping close eye on the midsection. Cliiick… Blackened thumb sliding the hammer back as he raised the revolver parallel to his shoulder. The final pace came shortly; one eventually must cue the music, in many ways than one. Ashcroft watched as the Confederate began to turn, yet simply pointed the weapon over his shoulder and fired. The recoiled backwards, the boom replaced the vacuumed screech of an implosion. The round would curve much like a baseball, but still a blur to the eyes. There was a flash of blue just before the sound, a trail of arching residue fading into the atmosphere. Just as the gun stopped, that dreadful click of the hammer would come again. Subsequently it was followed by a series of clicks as the current capsule’s energy faded. The chamber quickly <C>
18:21:48 [Ashcroft] quickly rotated counter-clockwise to the next source. The soft whizzing of gears and passing over notches could be heard, faintly. Just after the first shot, Ashcroft would rotate his torso, left shoulder forward to the right guided by its outstretched arm. Spinning on his shoed-hoof, the Ari’ni would reposition so his side was facing the Confederate - Feet shoulder width apart. Cheek… The chamber was locked, Ashcroft already beginning to strafe to his left. If the hunter was betwixt sections, he would make his way behind the side of a seat to keep his head low. With box still in hand, Ashcroft raised it just high enough to see over the rows but not enough to risk one’s hand. The hound continued to jerk about with jaws clamped, gnawing if the target was still enough – The mantis was weak, so likely there was some gnawing. Almost like a mouth full of scissors, separating what bonds there were. The cuts within the mouth were minimal; not nearly enough blood to stain the saliva’s <C>
