Jango growls and throws his arm to the side, barely dodging the cannonball. The changed direction of his hand sends him flying towards Legion and Hayate.

He lets go of the disk, and rolls onto the ground. He dusts himself off, and flicks a few specs of dirt off his face. He then looks up at the fight and says "Now that ain't fair.." and he smirks.

Standing up, he walks over infront of Legion. He pulls one of his string disks out of his coat, and begins spinning it infront of Legion.

"You are strong..you are unbeatable..you are quick..you are strong..you are immortal..you are quick.." and he snapped his fingers loudly "One..Two..Jango!"

With Legion's hand now a blade, Hayate rationalises that now might be agood time to get his own back... but if he moves, he'll get skewered, most likely. How dare the demon play games with him? Then, to make things more interesting, his friend starts to hypontise the demon...

"Strong, immortal, quick? Sounds like my resumé."

With a laugh, he rolls backwards and flips back to his feet, a orb of dark energy in each hand, characteristic purple-white lightning arcing over their surfaces. Witought even looknig in the man's direction, he flings the right one at Jango, while the one remaining in his left hand thins and elongates into a passable quarterstaff which he twirls over his head before swinging it at Legion

Cylas jumps from the roof to the ground, landing and rolling to his sword with ease. He kicks off the remaining glitter and holds the weapon in his hand. He had confidence enough in Hayate to check on Reeve. Seeing he was being taken care of, he turned to see the fight with Rose and also acknowledged her. "Rip off... this is ridiculous, so many fights here. Not how it used to be, huh?" Cylas was speaking as if to a friend, but looking directly at Legion and Jango.

Jango lets out a strangled cry as he is flung aside. He rolls across the ground for a moment, then pushs himself to his knees.

As they both attempt to over-power the other in the lock, Hayate reminds himself that the demon is physically stronger than him.
"Body, mind, heart and soul. I hear it's the going rate."
As he's pushed back, he fires up another orb in his right hand,with the intention of slamming it into Legion's stomach again.

Legion frowns when Hayate creates the orb and abandons his attempt to strike with his claw. Instead tiny green lights begin to gather in his palm. "I think you got robbed, we just gave up individuality." Legion lets out a roar and tries to break Hayate's lock with a quick push forward.

((I'm going to have to leave for about in hour in a few minutes. I'll continue the fight when I get back.))

The demon's push knocks Hayate backwards, the Messenger leaping clear of the blade before it slices him in two. As he lands, he's rather annoyed to see that one of his trouser legs has been sliced open, and rather more annoyed when he notes the thin trickle of blood from his leg.

"I was wondering about that, demon. Do you get the power of all the creatures you absorb? If you did, that would speak badly of your kin."

He dispells the orb and the staff, using the latter only to draw a little circle in the sand, around which crackling energy flows. Hayate smiles at Legion and makes the 'come on' motion again

Jango pushed himself to his feet, and growled.

He looked over ay Cylas, who was taking a break from the fight.

"Oh no you don't."

He pulled one of his disks off his coat, and let go of it.

It dangled in the air infront of him, and began to spin around. Slowly at first, then faster until it was a blur.

Jango's glasses crack, and shattered. His eyes behind them were glowing a faint blue, and he whispered "One..Two..Jango!"

His eyes were now solid balls of blue, and he ran at Cylas and then jumped into the air and on one leg landed infront of Cylas, the ground splintering around him as he did.

"This time, you ain't gonna get away."

As the bolts lance towards him, Hayate doesn't move but remains smiling all the time. They slam into him, hurling him backwards, but as the lightshow ends, he's still visible, kneeling, mostly whole and winged.
He stands up, blood clearly visible over his shirt and he laughs the mildly disturbing laughter of the damned.

"You seek ultimate power by making all demons a singular entity? Hm. The war is mine, my dear demon. You are many, I am but one, the single and only messenger of my god."

Purple-white lightning crackles down his arm as he brings more of his power to bear. With a little flourish, he directs the crackling bolt at the demon.

"Ha! Justice divine has weighed: the doom is clear! All hope renounce; ye lost, who enter here!"

Legion smirks as Hayate attacks. "Very proud of your enslavement huh?" Certainly now was the test of whether the Pirate Hypnotist was truly skilled in his art. With new speed the Demon leaps away from the lightning and lands on a bleacher. Giggling, the Demon's sword arm grows into something more like a shield as he looks at Hayate.. "I'm beginning to think you're as crazy as I am; how interesting!"

Legion runs toward Hayate and leaps into the air. As he lands a few feet infront of him, he slams his fist into the ground. A spherical symbol surrounds the pair, and the ground inside it glows green and becomes warm. "Fire in the hole." Legion swings his sheild arm infront of him, holding it at a somewhat downward angle. As he does so the light becomes gradually brighter and the floor hotter.

((It's just a fancy magic grenade-thing.))

As the light and heat build, Hayate leaps at Legion. Not being one for magical defense, he aims to get the demon between him at the blast. He flips over Legion's head, grabbing his shoulders on the way down and swinging both feet down for a kick to his back

"Crazy? I prefer 'dangerously unstable'."

((Sorry we ain't posted, exams season hurts us -.-))

As the magical attack detonates, Hayate finds himself hurled into the air, his wings filling with hot gas and magical energy. Unable to remain airborne, he slams into the ground and struggles to right himself. Finally, he gets up, wings blackened and smoking, the smile wiped from his face

"You're betting better, Demon."

Lightning lashes from his hand to his fallen sword, dragging it back to him. He grabs it and swings it a few times before entering an attack form

"But, now, I'm taking you apart."

((U.C. Gundam owns my soul right now, so that with Halo 2 has kept me preoccupied anyway. So no worries.))

The Demon howls as the energy throws him into the air and scortches his back. He crashes into the stands with a loud clap, sending wood and splinters out in every direction. A moment later, a bloodied Legion rises; surrounded in a crimson glow as his wound slowly begin to seal. Wiping the blood from his eyes he slumps forward a bit and smirks at his foe. "Tear me apart? Is that all?"

The Demon chuckles and stands up straight, his tone quickly loosing it's obnoxious bounciness. "You. Cannot. Kill. Me. Nothing can."

Noting Hayate's stance, Legion's eyes flash green. His, for lack of better term, 'remains' that are scattered across the arena gain this same go and begin to move toward each other to reform independently. Consuming blood and dead flesh, they become one large mass and then seperate into three independent 'eyes'. The sentinel eyes then float up and circle the arena, focusing on Hayate as the pupil glows green.

Legion smiles and outstretches his hands at Hayate, leaving himself open for attack. "Let's go, Messenger."

"Kill you? Why should I even want to? You're as doomed as everything else here. You might survive this enounter and millions of others, but no regeneration, no eldrich magics, diabolic pacts, or the like will save you from the end of ends. To use your phrase, it's inevitable. Survive until the end of time, Legion, survive and prosper, I implore you and then, at that final moment, understand what you're about to lose."

With blinding speed, the Messenger rushes past Legion's left side, blade held out at waist height. Without even checking to see if the first strike's hit, he reverses the sword's path into a two-handed downward strike with the intention of cleaving the demon in two.

"In the meantimes, this game of ours should keep us both amused."

The bone-hand rakes across Hayate's face, opening deep cuts along one of his cheeks. The eyes were his main concern, but they seemed faily easy to avoid if he kept moving.

"I must be anathema to your and all you represent, mustn't I? I have surpassed the cycle, from my death came this life, greater than the one that came before it. Not paradise, utopia, because such a thing is impossible, but the re-definition of life itself. You claim to be saviour? I could make the same claim. Entropy, the chaotic decay of all things, strengthens daily, and people struggle against it's influence to retain precious order. Death is only the beginning, oblivion is the only true freedom... and I grant it as I see fit"

Seeing the 'eyes' ready to fire, he leaps into the air despite his damaged wings, his sword poised to strike all three of them down in a single sweep.

The first eye is struck before it could fire; cleaved in two. The eye explodes in a bright green flash as the onfocused energy is released. The two remaining eyes zip backwards out of Hayate's swipe, though one is knicked(sp?) as to send it spinning and firing at a wall. The last eye that escaped his slash fires, aiming for his chest.

Legion leaps away from the scene to put distance between himself and Hayate. He slides across the arena floor and turns around. He glances at the other fights before turning back to his opponent. "Yet you saw it fitting to meddle in Megiddo, and to prolong Gaia's death. I do thank you for that."

((Inactivity related to teenage angst, back now.))

((Eh, happens to us all))

The combination of the blast and the beam knock the light Messenger to the ground again with a worrying cracking noise. He flips back up to his feet regardless, showing off a neat hole in his chest that seems filled with very faint lightning and his angelic wing is slumped and broken.

"What would Megiddo have acheived for me? Certainly, Aesir eventually felt that it was his duty to help stop it... but that doesn't matter. Megiddo would have ended everything, yes? What good would that do? Would that advance any agendas, wrong rights, or add to Chaos? I think not."

He tries flexing his wing, and seems rather annoyed when it fails to respond, he shakes it a couple of times, eventually hitting it.
With a sigh, he turns back to Legion, extending a hand in the demon's direction.

"What is your fascination with... Gaia, anyway?"

For once, Hayate seems a little unsure of himself after Legion's comments. He frowns, while purple/white lightning seems to pull upwards from the ground between him and the demon.

"Share her fate...? From what I've heard she's biologically human, correct? Will she not eventually die of old age?"

While he wouldn't mind an answer, the ground between the demon and himself has begun to buckle and creak, as if something were about to burst free from the depths.

"Curious, curious. I've never heard of this Gaia event elsewhere. No matter, then."

With an ominous silence the floor gives way, debris simply falling into a sphere of darkness that slowly rises from the ground, the flaring lightning over it's surface arcing without noise as it comes to rest a metre free of the ground. The Messenger smiles as one of his normal orb-like spells forms in his hand.

"I do so love this one, it's like a practical demonstration. Order...

The rest, while easily guessed, is drowned out as the large ball contracts in on itself and performs a rather neat burst of mass/energy conversion in it's interior. In layman's terms, it shrinks to a point and explodes big time.

Despite having turned the orb into a shield, Hayate is picked up by the blast and is hurled into a wall which craters on his impact. When the blast dissipates, he flops out of the crater and drops the six feet to the floor head-first, leaving his right arm stuck in the wall.
After a few moments to regain his wits, he staggers across the arena holding his head with his remaining hand to stop the floor trying to escape and taps Legion's head with his boot

"Looks like we're both pretty torn up... Think I'll let you have this round. Next time, we'll have to fight outdoors, eh?

With a little smile, he picks his sword up and pulls his arm out of the wall and staggers out of the arena

ok thats crazy a freaken rubber man rubbidy-rub-rub.

gale who are you!?!?!?!you monster!!!!!

ok wat :guns:

Oh! I...uh...well, that is...um, I think so.
Well, I was, er...if you want me to.
Sarm clumsily drops some of his things as he fumbles around for words to say. He's clearly never done this sort of thing before

"Interesting fight. Legion is a lot more powerful when he's acctually trying to do something other then get hit as much as possible." came a voice from behind Tor.

The red haired man leaned against the seat next to Tor. He smirked and said "But then again, I never really give him a chance to fight back in our duels anyway." and reached into the popcorn bucket and pulled out a handful. "So who're you?" and after a quick munch. "And where did you get such terrible popcorn?"

"It all seems so very low-key. I was expecting a 'battle to break the world' between an archdemon and Aitch."

After a thoughtful mouthful or two of popcorn, Tor noted that this new fellow was stealing his popcorn, and proceeded to hide the rapidly emptying bucket under his chair.

"The popcorn's from the concessions stand, just behind the third crater from left."

He grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bucket before kicking the now-empty container away and seemed to inspect one of the pieces in detail.

"Hm. You seem pretty sure of yourself against that demon. What's his name name again? Lock? I thought he was one of the more powerful locals. Though, I haven't seen you around before, and I'm pretty good with faces."

Pausing only to stuff the popcorn into his mouth and apparently swallow the lot hole, Tor stands and extends a hand to the newcomer.

"Toryu's the name, also known as Tor. What about you, O audacious thief of my popcorn?"

Ekail frowned at the loss of the popcorn, and shrugged. "Ekail. And I'm sure of myself against that demon because I've kicked his ass several times now. In graphic detail." and chuckled.

He climbed over the seat and sat next to Tor, and leaned back. "So what are you doing here? Spectating?" and smirked "I'm merely waiting for someone who acctually looks worth my time..Thus far, noone's fit the bill."

"Just watching. Doesn't look like this arena's gonna take much more abuse. Shame really, I was just getting into it, and the popcorn was figuratively growing on me."

With a little yawn, Tor extricated a beer can from the leather satchel on the seat next to him, cracked it open and took a long swig. After a bit of thought, he grabs another one and throws it to Ekail.

"No one's worth your time, eh? Seems like we're in the same boat, though I wouldn't put it quite that way."

Ekail caught the can, and looked at it. "I don't drink, but thanks." and smirked. He set the can atop Tor's head, and said "You enjoy though." and promptly crushed the can into Tor's head. He burst into a fit of chuckling, and stood up.

[i]Tor smiled and stoods up, shaking his head to try to get rid of the beer.

"Teetotal, eh?"

He grabbed his satchel, looked thoughtful for an instant and, with surprising force, swung it around behind himself, with the intention of knocking Ekail straight into the cratered arena below.

"Can't bear smug teetotallers"

Ekail flew forward, a loud "Wee!" echoing through the air as he landed face first on the ground. He stood up slowly, and wiped a small bit of blood off his mouth. He turned to Tor and said "So now that you've proven you acctually have the ability to swing, how about coming down here and proving you can fight too?"

The blood from his mouth trickled down his face, and then seemed to defy gravity as it began to flow down towards his fight hand.

Tor reached into oen of the pockets of his baggy jeans and drew out a slim book. After flicking through it for a little while, he shrugs and digs a battered scabbard with equally battered sword out from under his chair.

"I'm free for the next eternity, I guess."

He yawned and drew his sword, the tarnished, blunt blade not quite shining and ran his finger down the serrations on one side to check if it was still sharp. Then, he wandered down to the arena proper, sword over his shoulder.

"Blood magic? How... morbid."

Ekail smirked, and the blood running down his arm gathered in a small ball on his hand, and then melted into a large, thing spike. He spun it in his fingers a few times, and said "Morbid, yes. Effective, very."

A slight red glow eminated from his mouth, and the trickle of blood stopped entirely. The last, dwindling remnants drew to the spike making it seem thicker.

"Shall we get started?"

"Let's roll!"

Tor took a few steps back as a fireball formed in his hand, then ran forwards and bowled the spell like world-class cricketer. For a fireball, Tor's spell seemed oddly glassy, and when it bounced off the floor a few metres short of Ekail, there was a noticable 'thud'. Still, that didn't stop it for bouncing up to head-height a metre away from Ekail and detonating.

"'Owzat?!"

Ekail lifted his hand, and pointed the spike at the ball. When it exploded, the spike seemed to expand into a solid wall of blood, absorbing the brunt of the explosion. Ekail sighed, and the wall shifted back into a spike. His right hand was burned and he was covered in dust, but decidely not too harmed.

"Well, I'll admit that one stung a bit." and twirled the spike in his finger. He pushed a foot forward, and in a second was rushing towards Tor. He lifted his hand up, pointing the spike at him and then it split into two smaller spikes, then four, then eight until there were about twenty tack-sized spikes in his hand. He jumped upwards, and tossed the spikes down. A few hit the ground around Tor and exploded into even more spikes, which were all aimed for Tor.

"Hmm. Pointy."

With impressive speed, Tor high-jumped over the ones bursting up from the front, though the ones that slammed him in the back hurled him a fair way across the arena, where he landed with all the form and grace of a falling, unconcious elephant.
From his face-down position, after pulling a spike out of his T-shirt, he smiled and aimed a hand at Ekail.

"Fire was never by strong point. Try this one."

From Tor's hand, a massive trail of dust hurtled towards Ekail, the sign of a burst of wind magic closely resembling an invisible freight train

Ekail looked mildly impressed for a moment, then lifted his own hand. A small blast of air shot forward, hitting Tors. It didn't stop it, but instead slowed it down enough to not rip him to shreds. He crossed both arms infront of his body, and braced himself. The blast hit him, and pushed him backward, a multitude of cuts appearing all over his body. In one swift motion, he broke his guard and sent the blast flying upward, cuts all over his body and clothes.

"Impressive. Would have cut most normal people into several peices." and smirked. The blood from the cuts flowed into his right hand, and formed into a large ball of blood. Instead of forming into a spike, or even a weapon of any type, it began to melt over his hand, covering his hand from wrist to fingertips in a thick layer of blood. Soon it was done, and it looked as if Ekail had just put on a very, very thick glove and covered it in bloody-like goop. Then the fingers of the 'blood glove' seemed to elongate, until it looked like he had just hung a katana blade off each finger.

Ekail rushed towards Tor, his claw scraping the ground. He then pushed all the blades into a circle, and raised his hand to Tor's chest, attempting to impale him.

"That wasn't much past a warning shot, me laddo."

The blades slammed Tor in the chest, ripping his T-shirt and knocking him down, but not seeming to penetrate. As he fell, he swung his sword up aiming for Ekail's free hand, the blade's true nature belied by the gouge the 'blunt' end carved in the arena floor.

"Chance!"

Just to keep things interesting, Tor made a particulary complex hand gesture with his free hand, before firing off a wind-blade at Ekail's ankles.

"Now this might hurt a bit." Ekail grimaced at the blade dug into his hand, slicing off a finger or two. The wind blade sent one of his feet flying off, the now detached foot flying across the arena and bouncing off a stand.

Ekail hopped backward, and grabbed his left hand with his right. He was wobbling one his one foot slightly, and both his wounds were practically a river of blood. Ekail lowered his hands, and the blood from his wounds began to flow upward. The blood from his foot covered the wound, and began to shimmer in the light. It began to elongate and twist, and then eventully took the shape of a foot. There was a bending of the light, and Ekail put his foot down. The blood seemed to slip off, and underneath was his foot, repaired. Almost as an afterthought, what blood remained covered the foot and then took the shape of his shoe.

"You'de be positively amazed what some blood can do." and smirked darkly as his hand regenerated as well. He brought the blood claw up and pointed it at Tor. There was a sound like that of a click and the claw's blade detached and flew at Tor's chest.

While Ekail regenerated, Tor's face adopted the traditional 'W... T... F?' expression, combining disgust with... well... more disgust.

"That's... not... pretty... But, if blood's all you've got..."

With a sweeping gesture, a line of fire shot across the ground a metre from Tor, igniting into a wall of flame that burnt just long enough to turn the flying claws into over-cooked black pudding.

"Fire (When my competence check on a non-aligned class suceeds) solves everything, no?"

With a little smile, he raised his hand over his head and clicked his fingers the once. Other than a very, very faint flash appearing to eminate from everywhere at once, nothing further seems to happen, but Tor looked a hell of alot smugger than you'd like him to look in an arena situation.

Ekail looked around a bit, and then shrugged. The blood glove reformed completely, and he pointed his hand at Tor. The blood began to shift and melt, and then suddenly the glove was literally covered in sharp spikes. He ran towards Tor, clenched his fist and slammed it towards Tor's face.

His left hand shot up as well, and it was also covered in blood, a lesser amount though. The glove melted into a sword, which Ekail sliced upward at Tor.

With nifty footwork, Tor twirled out of the path of the swinging sword, only to catch a spiked boxing glove in the back of the head, which knocked him forwards a fair way until he caught himself.

"Must... update character sheet... add blunt to resistances."

He swayed wildly for a few moments, until he was certain he only actually had two hands, before stretching his left hand out behind him. A long way behind Ekail, a neck-height section of wall 6 foot long but less than an inch wide was blasted apart, a wind blade hurtling in from parts unknown.

"Oh bloody hell." Ekail turned, just in time to see the wind blade flying at him. He raised his blood sword up and deflected it a bit. It still slice into him, but hit his shoulder instead of his neck. His left arm fell off, hitting the ground with a loud 'splat'.

Ekail yelled in pain, and then said through very clenched teeth "Fucking HELL that hurts.". He turned back towards Tor, and said "Ok, now you die."

The very large wound on his shoulder was bathed in dim red light, and closed up. The ball of blood fell from Ekail's hand, and hit the ground. It seemed to melt into the ground slowly, along with all the other blood around. Ekail grinned darkly, and then lifted his hand.

There was a rumbling sound, which grew louder and louder. The arena began to shake slowly, and a crack began to form in the ground below Ekail. There was a roaring sound, and the ground beneath him split open, a huge fissure appearing. Ekail dropped in, and disappeared from sight.

A red glow began to cover the ground, and something crashed through the floor. It was blood. More accurately, it was a dragon made entirely of blood. Ontop of it's head, stood Ekail. He said lowered his hand towards Tor, and the dragon shot out of the earth towards Tor, attempting to slam into him at speeds that would rip the flesh off of a normal being's bones.

Ekail reached down with his right hand, directly into the thing's head. He pulled out a handful of the tack sized spikes he has used earlier, and threw them at Tor as well, before side-jumping off the dragon's head.

"Betterbetterbetter! ¡Dragón y asesino de dragones!"

For the first time since entering the arena, Tor laughed as the Dragon flew at him. Rather than dodging or even guarding, he rushed the dragon, various quickly snapped off bursts of raw magic incinerating the darts he couldn't dodge. As the dragon and the dragon slayer collided, Tor grabbed the creature's opening maw with his sword hand and stood on the lower one, left foot still floored and slowing them both down.
Before the pseudo-dragon had time to react to it's new,stationary situation, Tor thrust his free hand into it's gaping mouth, a massive wind blast being summoned from the ether.

"¡Ahora dado, dragón!"

As the blast cleared, Tor shouted from within the middle of a settling, greasy cloud.

"How much blood do you have?!"

Ekail just grinned, and the blood from his previous attack drew back towards him, all collecting in about seven medium sized balls that began to float around him in odd patterns, going from a ring around his chest, to twisting around him like wind.

"Eh. Somehow, I don't think you want to know." Ekail shrugged. The floating blood spheres stopped flying about, and flew towards Ekail's left shoulder. They began to float in place, as if forming a makeshift arm. Then they began to shimmer and melt, forming a blood replica of his left arm.

It flexed, and Ekail smirked darkly.

The hand began to mold into a giant ball, and the blood forming his arm melded into what appeared to be chains. Ekail said "Batter up!" as he spun around. The chains began to 'flow' forward, forming more and more, almost as if an infinite amount of blood was somehow being drawn upon. The ball part was now flying towards Tor's side, and a single, large spike shot out of the side aiming for Tor.

While Tor managed to dodge the blade, in true style he'd neglected to pick the correct direction to dodge in and is carried along for half a rotation by a chain to the back of the neck before dropping out under the chain and rolling to a stop, holding his neck.

"You've had your shots for free recently, I feel. Pretty cocky for a guy with an hour left to live."

As the ball and chain came round for a second pass, Tor caught it single handedly and smiled as the blood froze under his grip, twisted sculptures of ice bursting out along it's length, some holding within them flickering, impossible flames. As it closed in on Ekail, the ice became more pointed and the flames larger.

Ekail grinned evilly. Ekail pulled back a bit, the blood chain dropping off his arm and hitting the ground with a crash. "An hour? Whys that?" he said with a slight curiousity behind it. A faint red glow encased the flesh of his left shoulder, and it seemed to rip. The wound ripped open slowly, but it didn't bleed. Instead, bones began to shoot out of his side, followed shortly by veins and muscle, all the little stuffings of his arms jetting out in slowmo, and then covered with tissue. "Way I see it, I've got all the time in the world."

Ekail flexed his 'new' left arm, and there was a cracking sound. He let out a contented 'ahh' and then pointed two of his fingers on his right and left hand at Tor. He made a upwards slicing motion, downward slicing motion and then one to both sides. A sound like air rushing through a pipe was heard, and there was a slicing sounds at two small blasts of wind shot forward, spinning in the air. They hit the ground, still spinning rapidly. They began to call up dust and debris until it seemed like two small tornados, then Ekail thrust both hands forward, the now tornados flying at Tor with breakneck speed.

"Pretty much, yes. But now's not the time for a physics lesson, is it?"

As the tornadoes blasted towards him, Tor simply clapped his hands together, chausing a pair of wind blasts to slam into the tornadoes, enlarging them until they merged a few inches from his face. The large tornado, not unnaturally, lifted him into the air, spinning madly until he found his way to the eye 10-off foot from the ground. He stood up and crossed his arms in the maelstrom of dust and air as it stopped moving, remaining as a stationary whirlwind.

"Clichéd pose, I know, but it feels so right... "

Around Ekail, five massive pillars of rock smash out from the ground below, curving around him until they hold him within an excessively large clenched fist. Rather than the traditional method of crushing, they start to sink back into the ground, trapping Ekail between a rock and a hard floor.

Ekail blinks a few times, and says "Not that this just isn't SO comfortable, buuuut.." Ekail chuckled. Ekail's hair, formely a blood red, begins to..seep, more or less. The red begins to turn white, and it continues all the way to the tip. There, it becomes evident why.

Small balls of blood, about the size of a marble, are forming at the tips of his bangs. They continue to grow in size, and when Ekail's hair is finally all white, they are the size of fists, five in total.

The blood balls flys into the air, and elongate into thin blades. They fly towards the rock, and the ensuing slicing sounds and dust cloud block all else from being seen. When it clears, the rock hand is now lying in about ten pieces on the ground, Ekail is standing, arms cross and his hair has become red again.

"Always keep a backup supply." he mutteres, with a wide grin. He lifts his hand, the pieces of rock flying into the air, then throws his hand forward at Tor, and the rocks fly at him, attempting to knock him senseless.

"Heh. Stick with the blood, friend. The elements are mine."

A few of the rocks hurtled through the tornado, whirling around and battering Tor, knocking him out of his pose if not the whirlwind. With a slight hand gesture, the tornado collapsed, all of it's energy being diverted along the path the rocks were taking, all in its path being pulverised.
Tor thumped into the ground with customary lack of style and aplomb, though he had managed to remain upright this time.

Ekail smirked widely, and jumped to the side. The blast flew past him, and hit the ground making a very deep hole. Ekail stood up slowly, and dusted himself off. The fact that a small chunk of his leg was missing was proof he was a few seconds off on his jump.

"If you insist." he said, and the blood from the wound began to flow upward, covering his right hand in blood. He pointed his hand at Tor, more blood flowing onto it by the second. The blood began to shift, and formed what could only be described as a chaingun barrel. It began to spin slowly, and then the blood began to seep into it slowly as spikes began to fly out at very rapid speeds, towards Tor. They stopped infront of Tor, and began to ripple slowly. Then small, thin lines began to shoot between them. Eventully, they formed a very thick wall, with even more of the spikes coming in. It lifted into the air above Tor's head, and a huge amount of spikes shot out of it. Ekail lowered his hand, the blood becoming non-descript again. The wall hovered there for a moment, then shot downward at Tor, attempting to squish and impale him at the same time.

Some of the blood from Ekail's glove fell downward, and absorbed into the ground. Below Tor, the ground became red and small holes began to appear, from which long spikes shot forward, attempting to trap Tor while the block above shot down.

The spiked wall hurtled down onto the spikes, the pillars of blood deforming under the massive momentum to let the wall crush the man below. When it had gotten to within three feet of the ground, it slammed to a halt, held up by one of Tor's feet which he'd manged to get between the spikes.

"I'm... amazed you have that... much blood on...tap. Does it come in... hot and cold?"

From within the forest of bloody spikes, a blinding light suddenly burst into existence. A hemispherical shockwave vapourised the forest and threw the deformed and partially molten 'wall' clean through the roof, a ragged three-foot hole having been punched clean through the centre.

In the super-heated centre of the event, Tor clambered to his feet, one of his trouser legs close to shredded up to the knee by the spikes. He flexed a little, a bruise or two visible on his head and leg, before taking aim at Ekail once more.

"Regenerate this."

What he fired wasn't true magic, but art. To call it a fireball would be like calling the Moon a 'big rock'. This was nothing short of a full blown epic Hellball.
The very fires of creation were plucked from the firmament, arranged around a centre of raw hellfire and imbued with whatever elemental attribute his whim dictated at that time. The completed package shone like an exploding sun as Tor directed it towards the blood mage infront of him at speeds that'd make something capable of reacting very fast's last words 'What the Fu~'.

Ekail stared into the ball for a moment, jaw laying somewhere on the floor. His reaction took over, and he shot to the side in a manner that suggested he has used wind magic to do it. He landed in a heap of dust and watched the 'Hellball' fly past him.

Ekail stood slowly, and the blood on his hand shot off, forming a large ball in midair. He watched the hellball for a few more second, then slowly turned to Tor. He reached up and cracked his own neck a bit, and said "So things are getting serious now, eh? Funtime."

He threw his arms out, the blood ball splitting into about fifty long, wide and flat sections. Some of the blood dropped off them, revealing them to be very sinister looking saw-blades. The began to spin in the air and circle Ekail, aa he took a careful glance back at the Hellball, wondering just where the hell anyone could get enough energy to produce such a thing.

The Hellball punched a metre-wide through the stands and arena wall as if they weren't there, dripping, glowing stone and molten plastic all that was left after it's passage, the air behind it exploding out along it's path with a thundercrack.

Back in the arena, Tor drew more energy into a smaller sphere in his hand and began to say something. What ever he said was lost when all hell broke loose.

"Hope you packed your sun c~"

A mile or two away from the arena, the hellball had exploded. Light beyond light poured into the arena from it's direction, the hole in the wall almost seeming to expand through the sheer pressure of the light, while a wall of raw heat seared the pain off the walls and burned the combatant's shadows into the walls. The noise was as if some almighty ancient thunder god had hurled his hammer to the earth, a noise that can't be heard but only felt in every bone of the body. A fraction of a second later, the ground beneath the arena buckled and flexed, a clearly visible shockwave blasting across and out the other side without even stopping, as hurricane winds howled through the hole first in one direction then, abrubtly the other. Through the hole in the wall, the explosion had become visible, so bright as to render the sunny day outside black as pitch. The explosion itself had raised from the ground, a burning cloud of indescribable colour dragging a massive pillar of dust and rock up with it.

Eventually, despite the mind-buggering World-War-III-inspiring spectacle outside, things returned to 'normalcy' in the arena, puffs of dust dropping from the remaining rafters and the occassional 'tink' of cooling ceramic the only outward hint that anything had happened.

"Heh. Bit closer than I'd expected. Nice saw blades, mind."

Ekail stared at the explosion, not a wise idea really. He blinked a few times, clearing the temporary blindness and focused back on Tor. He shook his head, and said;

"Nice fireworks. Do you want to put on another show or can we get back to hitting one another?"

He sighed, and clenched his fists slightly. He lifted them into the air, and began to do what could only be described as waving his arms around madly. The saw blades seemed to understand, though. They all turned sideways, the edges spinning still. One lowered onto the ground, and Ekail stepped on it. It floated back into the air, and he assumed a surfer stance.

"Like, tottally radical dude."

He threw his arms forward and the saw blades, except for the one he was standing on, shot across the ground. Rock was split in two, dust flew up and blood trailed behind them slowly. Ekail's saw seemed to flatten, the 'teeth' turning dull and sinking into the center turning it into nothing more then a flying disk. Ekail grabbed onto the sides of it, and it floated up to about Tor's eye level. It shot forward, and Ekail pushed himself into the air in a handstand and brought both his legs down, in an attempted to smash Tor's face in.

Despite being half-blinded by the blast, Tor must still have been be tracking the saw blades as most of the ones heading towards him were blasted by pencil-wide bolts of energy from the blazing orb in his hand. Despite knocking a few holes through Ekail's 'board' however, it slammed into his face. During his flight to the arena wall, Tor had time to note that the stars before his eyes looked somewhat like the constellation Orion, before pretty blackness overwhelmed his vision for a moment or two.

"Ow. Ow ow ow. Mein kopf brennt, damnit."

Rather than relying on any aimable firepower this time, Tor rpointed his free hand in Ekail's general direction. Lightning shot down his arm, and out of his fingers, the multiple streams of electricity seeking out anything conductive in the arena.

Ekail smirked brightly, and dropped himself so that he was hanging off the bottom of the now shot up board. He dropped to the ground, which was only an inch or two anyway, and the board shot infront of him. It stretched outward, expanding until it covered infront of Ekail.

The lightning hit the wall, and absorbed into it. The blood was atleast a tiny bit conductive, and shocked Ekail, but not too much. He stepped farther back, nothing that poking the wall wasn't a good idea. When all the lightning had absorbed into the wall, it simply collapsed into a small puddle at Ekail's feet. Curiously, Ekail leaned down and made a motion with his hand. Nothing happend. He stood up straight, and shrugged.

"T'would appear we've just found something that counteracts my magic, haven't we?" and chuckled. The way he figured it, his magic relied on a certain type of magnetic field that surrounded the blood atoms and controled them by his hand movement, or thoughts. Electricity, or lightning in this case, seemed to override the field at a certain voltage, making his magic worthless.

Shaking his head, he lifted his hand slowly, the blood that remained from the saw blades collecting and flying towards him. It hovered in the air above his hand, and Ekail lifted his hand -into- the ball of blood. It seemed to cover every part of his arm he pushed into it, until the ball has disappeared and his right arm was covered in blood. He flexed it a bit, and then closed his eyes, the next stage taking a bit of thought.

The blood began to ripple, and a spike slowly grew out of his shoulder, then more down the outer part of his arm, from shoulder to wrist. The spikes covered all of his wrist, and some grew out of his knuckles as well. The fingers of his hand elongated, until they too looked like spikes.

He opened his eyes, and smirked. Then he rushed towards Tor, palms out flat, aiming to shove the spikes on his fingers into the man's face.

With eyes still not fuctioning properly, Tor couldn't see the effect of his attack very well. All he knew was that the blood mage didn't much like lightning being delivered in large quantities. Still huddled against the wall from the impact, he reached again into whatever place he drew his power from and bound crackling, sizzling electrical power and burning charged plasma into a crude ball... just as he saw the blurred outline of Ekail hurtle towards him, arms extended with some nasty looking spiky things attached.

"Oh, bloody hell. Ah well.
Burn!"

Just as Ekail's spikes hit Tor in the face, he threw the electrical ball, Hadoken-style into the mage's stomach.

"Now this is going to hurt." Ekail stated, right at the ball hit him. He stumbled over, the blood covering his arm slid off, splashing onto the ground. His hair seemed to drain once again, the blood slipping out of it slowly. He hit the ground, and growled as he clutched at the rather large hole in his stomache.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He tried to direct his energy into the wound...Nothing. "Fuck." was the last word he cared to say, as he realized he could very well die now.

Desperation and anger driving it, he lifted one of his legs and slammed it towards Tor's chest, trying to give himself time to recover.

Tor wasn't doing all that much better than the blood mage he was facing. A large part of his attack just then was electrical, and Ekail had spiked him in the face as he was being electrcuted. Plus, as Tor was holding the electrical ball at the time, he was more conductive.

"And so, a lesson is learned... but I fear the damage is irreversable"

He stumbled backwards into the wall, unable to see anything. Just when he'd worked out where he was, Ekail's kick slammed into his chest and caught between a foot and a hard place, Tor slumped down the wall, winded.

Ekail coughed loudly, trying to keep a tight grip on the wound, even though blood was coming out in quite a large amount. Growling, he lifted his other leg and moved the one planted in Tor's chest. He activated what little wind magic he had, and floated a bit off the ground. He slammed into the wall with both feet, and shot off to the other side of the arena.

He skidded to a halt just infront of a pillar, and pushed himself to a standing position. He was panting for breath, both from the wound and his draining bit of magic earlier. He growled, and lifted his hand not covering the wound. He closed one eyes, his face twisted in pain. "Shit...Fucking blast was strong enough to override my regen for a bit too.." and grimaced as more blood began to flow from inbetween his fingers over the wound.

He focused his remaining magical power, and let loose a gust of wind that could only be described as a shotgun effect. A blast hit the wall above Tor, sending large chunks of stone down towards him, another hit the ground front of him, sending up dust and dirt at him and two more hit the wall on eiather side of Tor.

Ekail managed a pained "Fuuck.." and dropped to one knee.

Blinded by both ungodly light and the not-overly-conductive-to-vision experience of taking one of his own lightning attacks to the face, Tor only became aware of the attacks being made when he felt the pressure build an instant before four small explosions went off at the same time. He felt fast-moving dust and small pieces of shrapnel from the walls sting his skin, but the ominous rumbling above could only mean one thing...

The dust settled over the newly-formed pile-o'-rock at the edge of the arena as an eerie silence fell. After a minute or so, some of the rocks near the top rolled away, as Tor slowly, painfully climbed out. Bruised, covered in dust, eyes clearly unseeing and sword loosely held, he somehow managed to look even more dishevelled than usual as the wobbled away from the pile, towards the centre of the arena.

"W-wind attacks? What's up, huh? Blood just not cutting it anymore? I bet... I bet that you're not doing overly well yourself, eh? If you're down on the floor, stand up, and let's... let's give this one last pass. Open up with all batteries, unleash a broadside, bring the main generators online and all that rot. It'll be... be... glorious, won't it? So, c'mon. Gimme your best shots and we'll see if you can take mine."

As he was talking, more and more energy grew in his free hand, another crackling, rolling ball of nothing in particular but everything at all building. The dust seemed to rise off him as a ghostly shroud as the static produced by the ball started to repel everything around it. In fairly short order, a slight warm breeze seemed to fill the arena, clearly another side effect of the ball

((OOC Edit: Hmm. I think you knocked a screw or two loose. And maybe scattered marbles.))

Ekail grinned wickedly. He pushed himself up, and lowered his hand from his wound. The view of his organs would have sent many people running to a trashcan for a quick tossing of lunch and dinner, but Ekail seemed unfazed by the literal river of blood that flowed out.

The wind picked up around him, blood rising off the ground and swirling around him, forming thin lines of blood flying around him in a constant whirlwind. "Lets finish this Tor. The end awaits after this, hold nothing back."

He grinned, the wind picking up even more around him. The ground began to split apart from the force of air, his clothing slicing apart from the razor sharpness of the gusts. His hair began to fly off slowly, sliced off by the wind. Cuts began to form all over him, more blood picking up into the wind until Ekail's entire form was obscured by a cloud of bloodied wind and dust. The only visable parts were his eyes. His eyes pierced through the cloud, The path infront of Ekail and Tor seeming to chill, Ekail's stare turning the air coarse, feeling like sandpaper against the skin of all in his way.

His eyes dulled, and seemed to fill with blood as they disappeared into the cloud. It picked up again, until it seemed like a tornado of blood air. It hit the roof, and split it asunder into dust, the rock crumbling in the winds- No, Ekail's path. It reached into the sky, the roof of the arena weakening, cracking jutting out from the hole Ekail had made. The ground split as well, nothing but dust remaining. The wind's strength seemed to draw the essence out of the place, the ground drying slowly beneath their feet, the stone of the place becoming duller and cracking.

The rushing sound of the air didn't obscure the last words Ekail said, even with the place falling apart around them. "Tor! Lets end this!" as the wind drew inward, the tornado falling into itself. The cloud around Ekail seemed to be sucked into itself, all the destroying air being drawn at him. It shot to his hand, covering it in destructive force, before he raised it and gritted his teeth.

The air shot forward at Tor, the ground under it being ripped apart into a gigantic fissure. It began thin at first, nothing more then a toothpick. As it neared tor, it widenend to the point of being the size of a car, before picking up more speed and screeching towards Tor, the force crumbling the walls around him even before it reached him.

Ekail smirked to himself, then exhaled what he felt would be his last breath as he felt the hellball hit. His eyes shot open and he nearly screamed as everything from the waist down was quickly incinerated. He felt the rest of him get carried backwards by the momentum of the blast, and landed in a very bloody heap in a very broken part of the stands. He was about to try to push himself into a semi-sitting position, when the part of the stands he was sitting on decided to crumble furthere, sending him down below the stands, covered in large chunks of rock.

He growled underneath the rocks, trying to push a few off. His strength began to fade, and his pushes turned into a struggling nudge as the life began to desert his body. He slumped against the earth below him, and was about to close his eyes when he felt it. It was like a tickle to his head at first, then he realized what it meant. He gave a smirk in the darkness.

A spalshing sound was heard from the 'hole' Ekail had fallen into, followed be a soft red glow rising from it. Then all was silent for a bit, until the sound of crashing was heard. Inside the hole, the rocks had hadn't moved, but a trail of blood led out the newly formed hole in the arena's wall, and outside.

Somewhere down a rather large fissure in the Earth, Tor stirred. He groped around in the darkness for his sword. Despite all the abuse it had suffered along with him, it was still perfectly intact and had punched into the wall of the fissure, point first. Tor smiled as he grabbed the blade, the once-red threads of the handgrip long having been worn into the exact shape of his hand.

"Ah, there you are. Fair, hallowed, and devote, what relics lie in your gold hilt that let you get out of that lot, eh? And I wonder where that hellball went? Guess it can't have gone off. Ah well. Let us get the hell out of here!
I can't help but think I've forgotten something though.... Ah."

Without warning, a very faint white flare, barely perceptible to those with working eyes, seemed to eminate from everywhere at once, then ended abruptly.
Then, content in a job well done, Tor began the process of climbing the walls of the fissure using only a sword.


Elsewhere, astronomers all over the world were being brought infront of their respective political leaders to explain a number of very odd events, not least of which was the fresh, still-glowing 60-mile crater on the surface of the moon.

There was little time to take in the full sight of the now broken Arena, before Shien found a person slamming into his stomach.

He looked down, and grabbed the person by his head and lifted him up slowly. At eye level with him, his silver eyes glared from behind his thin glasses.

"Going somewhere?"

Shien's trenchcoat fluttered slightly in the dull wind, revealing the two sheated blades hung off the belt on his waist. One was a katana, whilst the other was a thick, long blade attached to a katana hilt.

His clothing was all black, nothing more then a tieless suit with black dress shoes. He wore black gloves too, gloves that were now holding Sarm firmly above in the air. His coat was night blue, and had thousands upon thousands of small, thin pockets lining it.

He was smoking too, which explained the thick smell of smoke that hung around him. The smoke blew into Sarm's face, blocking the sight of Shien's dark brown hair and the two thin scars going down his right eye, from eyebrow to the bottom.

Sarm makes a twisted face as he gags on the smoke and swings his feet a bit in the air, as though attempting to walk when not on the ground would allow him to get away as though he wasn't being detained.

*Gack* *Cough* Hey! Leggo! *Cough* I didn't do anything! *Cough*

Sarm continues to squirm and puts his hands on the one that is holding his head and tries to push off of the man he just uncourteously bumped into a moment ago.

Shien chuckled, and dropped Sarm onto the ground roughly. He looked down and said "Sorry about that. Who are you...and whats a kid like you doing in this place? Shouldn't you be at home napping?" Shien said, taking a quick jab at the young man's age.

Shien himself seemed young, but there was a certain feel around him, something that spoke untold words of wisdom that a man his age wouldn't possess. He let out another quick chuckle, then waited for Sarm's reply.

Shut up! I was just watching people fight. I wanted to stick around for a while. I just...changed my mind.

Only after saying that does Sarm get up onto his feet and starts to brush loose dust off of his clothing. His next line comes with a bit of a sulking tone.

And I'm 18. I just don't get out much, so leave me alone.

Shien grinned and leaned down, again at eye level with Sarm. "Someones grouchy. Did the widdle boy not take his nappy nap today?" he said, his tone a tad mocking. He let out a quick chuckle, and then stood back up.

"So I still don't have a name there, Junior." he said, again the mocking tone coming forth.

Now quite pissed, Sarm stomps his foot into the ground. A bit of a mystical aura builds around him, enough to tell anyone familiar with magic that it's not a human force, but is nonetheless a disgustingly unimpressive force. His fussy tantrum and clumsy movement tells Shien that his guest has had absolutely no training in any sort of fighting, be it physical or magical.

Hmph. It's S...

He realizes at this point that it's probably not the best idea in the world to tell complete strangers his name, considering the location he is.

Shelldon.

He's also a terrible liar.

Shien chuckled again, and said "Think I'll stick with junior." he grinned again, and patted 'Shelldon' atop the head.

He stared glancing around the arena, taking in all it's very blown up glory. "So what hit this place? A nuclear bomb or a airstrike?"

Well, two people were fighting and I...got hit in the head and the next thing I knew, I was halfway down that big hole over there. *Points*

I was just, you know...leaving. I didn't want to be around if they showed up again.

Sarm starts to edge away from Shien at this moment, so he can leave.

Shien grinned, and there was a crackling feel in the air for a moment. All the smoke that had been floating in gathered togather in a small cloud, which floated towards Sarm. There was another crackle, and a wide assortment of smokey 'arms' shot out, trying to grab onto Sarm.

Shien chuckled and said "Nah, You get to stay junior. I'm bored. I think juggling sounds good right now."

Sarm tries to pull away as he backs up, and into a large stone slab from the arena.

You can't be serious...what do you want with me? I'm sorry I ran into you, if that's what this is about. Come on, I really want to go home.

Shien chuckled and advanced towards Sarm a bit, then dropped down to eye level once again. "Nope, nope. Ya come to a fighter's arena, and don't fight? Sissy."

He chuckled, and the smoke cloud shot to the side, towards the middle of the arena, Sarm still in it's grasp. Shien jumped forward, did a little flip in the air, and landed about five feet away from Sarm.

The smoke cloud slowly faded, releasing Sarm. Shien spat out his cigarette, and crosses his arms. "Leeeets see what your made of, halfpint."

Shien stared at Sarm for a moment, then chuckled as he grabbed the rock out of midair. He grinned, and dropped the rock to the ground. He reached into one of the pockets on his coat, and extracted a red-papered cigarette.

He pulled a lighter from a slightly larger pocket near it, lit it and took a quick puff. The light slid back into it's proper pocket, and Shien began to step forward slightly, following after Sarm. The smoke began to float around him, and Shien stopped. He took a deep puff, and then lifted his hand. The smoke seemed to fly towards it, and then shoot forward, forming a line from Shien's hand, towards Sarm.

The smoke flew past Sarm, and formed into a wall behind Sarm. The smoke then seemed to crackle for a moment, before bursting into a wall of flames behind Sarm, stopping his backing up.

Shien spun a bit, the blows instead hitting his shoulder instead of his face. He grimaced just slightly, and said "Hmm. A bit of muscle behind that." before reaching to his waist. He pulled one of the blades, sheath and all, off his belt and the sheath fell off of it.

The hilt was a katana hilt, but the blade was rather odd. It seemed to be nothing more then a slightly thin piece of metal, with several odd holes, grooves and notches in it, like someone had taken to with with a hammer and a blowtorch. The corners of the tip of the 'blade' had slightly jagged pieces sticking out of them, too small to hurt too much, but still sharp.

Shien lifted the 'blade' and swung it lightly at Sarm's stomache, hoping to catch him still in mid-air.