First Annual Unofficial DWMA Royal Rumble~~(Open)

OOC: This is an open fight thread for anyone to join and participate. If you wish to leave at anytime just step outside of the fighting area and exit the thread. There will be a 24hr auto-hit rule where you have 24hr's to post if you are fighting another OC, if not they have the ability to land a non-lethal/incapacitating hit on the player. If you don't post within two days you will be knocked out. If you give a warning or reasoning for not being able to post promptly to you will be exempt from this rule. Enjoy

EDIT: The posting order is consistent with whoever you are fighting so two people who are having a fight aren't stalled because someone who is fighting by themselves isn't posting. If you are not fighting you can post as you please.

It was bright.

The hot sun that blazed over the Nevada Desert and Shibusen was relentless in it's assault. Violent rays lashed out hitting the atmosphere at a hundred degrees even. The once cool, lush green was now an agricultural lava to anyone that was simple enough to be barefooted. With chimed laughs that echoed across the open space behind the DWMA, a group of students gathered for an unofficial, illegal sparring session.

Such a session would have be viable had it not been for the brutality in which it was orchestrated.

Blood. Sweat. Tears.

The saying was malicious in it's execution as many a students that had gathered today were bleeding, sweating, and crying in the most explicit of ways. Bones were being broken. Flesh was being torn. And even amiss all of this chaos and violence, the golden rule held at this unofficial brawl was "Till Death Due Us Part". In which it meant that the killing of another member was strictly prohibited. However, just about everything else was fair play. It housed the more brutal and scum of the Shibusen students.

But this is where the Demon Shield, Drake Kurogasko II found himself. In hopes of growing stronger and taking his prowess to new heights. He entered as an autonomous weapon and since the beginning of the brawl had found himself incapacitating two Shibusen students already. Both by submission.

The area in which he fought was behind the DWMA, deep in the recesses of the large open space that was housed behind the school. The entire area was marked by four large trees that stood out among the many others. Each tree was roughly thirty meters from each other which created an invisible square which represented the stage for the fighting. Anyone that entered the thirty by thirty area was fair game though running outside of it meant disqualification. You could enter as a weapon, a meister, or a weapon/meister team. It was entirely up to you. Scattered about the field was dozens of various training weapons to be used by Meisters in order to even out the playing field. Dummy swords, knives, hammers, clubs, staffs, pistols with rubber bullets, and the like. Any weapon form you could think of, it was littered about somewhere in the area. And if you couldn't find what you needed, beat someone else to a bloody pulp and steal theirs.

Those were the rules, few and simple.

"Hah!" Drake yelled out as he delivered a swift horizontal kick to the midsection of his opponent. He was a Meister who wielded a dummy sword in place of an actual demon weapon. Blue haired, black eyed. Drake finished off with a round house kick to the side of the head and with that his opponent was gone. He eager shifted his attention to back to the many of students that were brawling around him, looking for his next opponent. His eyes wandered, taking in the scene of multiple one-on-ones that occurred at the same time. Others were locked into a handicap match between other students. It was during this time that Drake's attention was caught by a dull throwing knife that came whizzing past his face.

This brawl was dangerous if you didn't keep your wits about you.

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Sigh.

How unfortunate it was for him to have wasted the cooler more favorable hours of such a nice day in class, while most of the other students managed to indulge on the rarity. Even now that the bell had rung signifying his release back to freedom, Zeek was forced to return to his dorm room drop off the unnecessary presence of his books. Taking note that the chilled air within the dorms was only possible due to the air conditioning, Zeek removed his shirt, tossing it on the single bed housed within the neatly kept room. Quickly he sought out his supply of sunscreen applying the contents of the blue bottle onto the surface of his exposed flesh, his bare skin having an increased shine to it as left the facility and stepped out into the open that he so longed for.

As a moth to a flame the teen was naturally drawn towards the source of rumored words. His feet carried him to the back of Shibusen and onto an uninhabited land, save for the numerous students partaking in a senseless rumble of some sorts. The were mock weapons littering the ground, among other things, the more common of them being bloodstains and warriors who have fallen and now lay unconscious and seemingly unnoticed by the remaining combatants.

"Marvelous."

The word escaped Zeek's mouth more as a breath than an actual item of verbal language. Widened eyes exposing his gray irises, concluded that the young man found the brutality to be quite delightful. Unable to contain the current desires of his heart, there was but one path to be chosen. Thus without word or warning, he moved taking but a single noticeable step before appearing in the fray, and acquiring a target in one breath.

Two overly enthusiastic strides delivered Zeek to a fellow student no older than himself. Unlike the Demon weapon, this boy was just a mere Meister who had developed a few techniques as a means to stand his ground while his partner wasn't present, but that was not enough to stop the energetic Zeek. A punch was thrown connecting with nothing but air, and was reacted to with a horizontal slashing motion of a partially transformed arm. Though the slash wasn't fatal the teen had now contributed to the increase in bloodshed and bodies that lay at his feet.

The war had begun.

<sub>Name: Blitz
Level: Average
Description: This self resonance drastically increases the force exerted when Zeek takes a step, propelling him forward with astonishing speed. Essentially he can cross a distance of two meters with one use of this ability, however it forces his motion to mimic a vector pattern meaning he can only move in a forward motion, then must initiate another use of the ability in order to change direction.

[[This technique can only be used once per post, with a three post cooldown for every two uses.]]</sub>

*Bang, Bang*

Cyrus looked up from his guitar as the gunshot echoed around the quant buildings in and around Death City. He had been sitting on a park bench in the lower city,next to beautiful park, With a playground to the left-hand side that was popular with the younger children. He'd come here on a whim, grabbing his fender and just going. He did that sometimes, when things got stressful, or if he started to dwell back to his family, he would grab his guitar and just start walking

And thats what had happened here. He had just kept walking until he found this park bench, opened up his case, and began playing. And It had gone well, he made a couple bucks. Until the shooting had started. Man, where was that coming from? He wanted to find out. So he packed up his gear and set out.

It hadn't taken long, Gunshots are extremely hard to miss. They originated from a clearing, thirty metres square, where not only the gunshots had originated, but also Thuds, Cracks and Screams of the various sword slashes, ax cuts, bruises and broken bones. Blood soaked into the ground, in spots giving it an evil red color.

He felt...Anxious. He wanted in, to fight. His conscious mind rationalized it later as an urge to gain fighting experience, but in reality there was something about fighting. Something primal. He liked it. A slight smile spread across his face as he set his guitar case down up against a tree.

Cyrus walked over to the weapons pile. He wasn't stupid, he wouldn't last five minuits if he went in bare-fisted. But what to do? A sword? He hefted one up. No, no, the balance was wrong. What he needed was a gun. He shifted the pile some more. Aha! He pulled from the pile a Moss-burg 12 shotgun, which he loaded with bean bag rounds. He also loaded his signature .454 calibre pistol with rubber bullets provided. And with a vague No rest for the Wicked He cocked the shotgun, stepping into the fight

Game on.

This is it. The DWMA. Officially, Iris Walker couldn't be a student here. Not only is she a little bit older than the student body, but she has no talents that would make her a Weapon Meister. However, the Samura-in-training was determined to prove that the students here weren't the best fighters in the world. For that very purpose, in addition to her standard jeans, t-shirt, and jacket she was also wearing a black cloak as she infiltrated the Academy.

Iris didn't really know what she was trying to accomplish with this, she didn't even know if she was going to do anything here. However, after her recent battle with the self-proclaimed "Demon of the Fist", she needed to be sure that she had recovered properly. The cloak was doing little to hide her sword, and today she was using a completely edgeless blade. It had the shape and length of her katana but neither side of the blade was sharp. She was still afraid of that one moment where her heart embraced the will to take a human life. If she got into a fight here, she wanted to make sure there was no risk of that happening again. Still... she needed to get over this fear if she ever wants to stand a chance of beating a Kishin Egg or anything of the sort.

She had spent enough time here. It was time to leave before she got discovered. She came in through the rear, and that would be the best place to exit, but she found something quite unexpected happening in the open space that was very empty when she first arrived. Well, at least empty enough to go unnoticed if she stuck to the shadows. It looked like an open brawl between the students using practice weapons. A competition. A slight grin crept onto Iris's face as her gray eyes widened a slight amount. What better escape plan? Rather than sneak back out, she could make a grand "entrance" into the fight, making people oblivious to the fact she had infiltrated the Academy in the first place!

She positioned herself as if she were coming in from the rear again, then took an impressive leap through the air, landing near the edge of the battle. Her cloak settled on the ground slowly, but as soon as it had done so, she grabbed the clasp and released it, then threw off the cloak with her right arm. She stood strait up with a slight smirk on her face and her sword grasped firmly in her left hand. She didn't like to try yelling, but this should be all she needed. She pointed towards the students with her right hand, the index finger extended.

"Hello DWMA! I, Iris Walker, Ronin Samurai will fight anyone willing to challenge me! Do not worry, the sword I carry today is not sharpened!" she shouted, her voice noticeably straining with each word, but she got it out and that was all she needed. In all honesty, Iris didn't expect to walk out of this without consequence, but such a chance might never come again. This is how you issued a challenge. Directly and with clear targets. Not picking random people to hurt first.

Doom. Doom. Doom.

Daniel Nowak, the school nurse had heard whispers of a secret, and illegal sparring session, that would take place in the spot that had been designated the proper place for such a match. With a supervisor, that is. Death himself didn't mind such things taking place, but the fact that they organized an entire event without permission from anyone was certainly an issue. Of course monitoring the event could have been thrown at any of the other teachers...but the sheer fact that Dr. Nowak was found doing absolutely nothing, and has the proper credentials to take care of any wounded students, is what got him stuck with the dirty work. In reality the man had planned on watching the event on his own time, and taking bets with the students who were still smart enough to hold their allowances, but not as wise as the nurse when it came to combat. As well as gambling.

Hopefully the man held enough respect in the school, or at least the position itself, that as soon as he wandered onto the outer ring of the battle field, each students would immediately stop, and beg for their worthless lives to be extended. A few heads darted in his direction, but a lot of the students were focused on the fights. This agitated him, but he didn't really have the energy to go beat the snot out of them himself. Though he could muster up enough to make sure that they recognized his authority.

"Well, well, well...It seems that we have an illegal match! Is this the reason that you've come into my office six times this week, Donovan?" Dr. Nowak proceeded to rest his arm on a random student's head as he said this. The student began to protest, mostly because he had not yet participated in a match, not to mention the fact that his name wasn't Donovan, but the lethargic nurse swiftly covered the boy's mouth with his other hand. "What do you all have to say for yourselves? Certainly I can't let this go on..." His usual smile curved slightly, giving it a more malicious appearance, and he hoped that the students knew him well enough to realize that his full intention was something not usually expected from a staff member...bribery. "Hmmm...Silas McDonald(Cyrus)! Spot me a twenty, and I'll split the winnings with you...1/99. The rest of you know the drill...I've got money on Blue-Hair(Drake) over there..." Not only did the man lack the decency to remember their names, but he hadn't even noticed that Cyrus was going to participate.

Damien grinned as he walked through the school campus, simply enjoying the sweltering heat. He wished there was a pool or something nearby, or better yet a lake, but fat chance of that in a desert like this. Still, Damien had heard a wonderful rumor today, and there was nothing that could ruin his mood. He had heard of a no holds barred brawl, some place where he could finally let loose and really blow off some steam- not that he wasn't steaming enough under the sun's glare. He followed the sounds of broken bones, broken jaws, and broken dreams all the way to the royal rumble.

Whistling to himself, Damien casually ignored the medic area and the moans of pain. Despite his normally caring personality, Damien felt very little sympathy for them, other than the standard 'ouch, glad that didn't happen to me.' They came into this battle fully knowing what would happen. If they entered without that knowledge, then Damien felt even less sympathy for them. They learned a valuable lesson today: never overestimate yourself. It only leads to misery.

Reaching the edge of the arena, Damien smiled at the veritable cornucopia of weaponry before him. Armando would have gone into raptures of pure and utter bliss. Still whistling, Damien scouted the arena's edge until he found a pair of gauntlets. Grinning, Damien tore off his hoodie and shirt, and tugged his gloves off with his teeth before equipping the steel gauntlets. Not only would they add to the sheer stopping power of his fists, they would let him block blades and the like with near impunity. They were a godsend in a battle sure to include Demon Weapons. Scouting around a bit more, Damien picked up a p99 pistol loaded with rubber bullets and found a few clips for it. Loading the familiar gun with a clip, he cocked the gun with an ominous click. Tucking it into the belt of his pants, Damien grinned. "Well then, time to get to work."

Just as he was about to step into the circle of pain, Damien saw a familiar face: Mr. Nowak, the school nurse. Damien had sent enough men to him (not on purpose, mind you) that he had become quite familiar with the inside of the school hospital. Not that the casually forgetful man would ever remember even someone like Damien. "Oh, hey professor! Nice to see ya here. Tell the bookie that I'm putting 20 on myself, will ya?" With a grin and a nod, Damien jumped into the circle, and immediately Superman'd some unlucky soul who thought he could hold a candle to a 200 pound wall of meat. Unloading a series of jabs, Damien followed up with a left uppercut that laid the Meister flat on his back and unlikely to wake up again.

Spinning around a man aiming a rifle of some sorts, Damien ducked to the side and fired a left straight right at the body of the gun, forcing it from the student's hand and dislocating the finger. "Sorry about that!" Damien yelled to the student as he cradled his finger. Three blows to the solar plexus finished him off. "Why didn't he let go? Did he not think I was gonna punch the gun- ah, whatever. Let's just go crazy![/i]" Laughing, Damien continued his glorious rampage.

Damien would probably have continued punching away like the idiot he was had he not heard an all too familiar voice: "Hello DWMA! I, Iris Walker, Ronin Samurai will fight anyone willing to challenge me! Do not worry, the sword I carry today is not sharpened!" Grinning, Damien weaved his way through the mass of bodies before reaching the source of the voice. As expected, it was Iris, the samurai-to-be. "Hey there, honey! How goes it?" Leaping once more, Damien lunged forward, once again Supermanning the unlucky fool that was trying to sneak up on Iris. "Oh God, I love that punch." Damien thought as he moved to put his back back to back with Iris' back. "Gotta be careful here, honey. This is a brawl, not some duel. There's no rules here, other than the rule of the strongest." Damien grinned as he fended off a fellow fisticuffs fanatic with a few heavy jabs. "That being said, care to go to town with me, honey?" Damien grinned. He was loving every minute of this.

The brawl was getting exciting.

The amount of participants in the fight had grown but had remained balanced with the amount of students being incapacitated. Drake himself had downed his sixth opponent. This one like most of the others by submission. Drake had side-stepped to his side and kicked in the back of his knee causing him to drop to the ground. Drake took this opportunity to grip his neck in a two armed choke hold, "Forest Trap - Choke" He uttered as he locked his arms around the neck, using his dominant hand to secure his less dominate arm. The student began to twist and turn to wrangle himself free. Drake then stood all the way up while hyper-extending the neck and twisting his upper body left and right throwing the student back and forth until the student stopped resisting.

Drake than loosened his grip and dropped the student to the floor, unconscious.

He stepped.

Left foot, right over the downed Meister. His attention was immediately captured by that of a young girls voice. Bellowing out an open challenge to anyone. Drake took a step forward, he wouldn't turn it down and he would definitely not let it go unanswered. As he stepped, he was once again deterred by that of a teacher.

Dr. Nowak.

Drake turned.

He looked over to see if he was here to stop the fight. ""Hmmm...Silas McDonald(Cyrus)! Spot me a twenty, and I'll split the winnings with you...1/99. The rest of you know the drill...I've got money on Blue-Hair(Drake) over there..."

He sighed.

He wanted to be surprised but then again this was Death City. He should of figured. And with that he was off. In a full sprint toward Iris. As he made his way he saw a large brute of a student defend her and then press his back against her.

Teaming up?

He smirked.

This would be fun. He figured they'd known each other from before even though the girl was obviously not a DWMA student by the way she announced herself. When Drake came within five meters of them both he jumped high into the air and turned himself into his full Demon Weapon form. It consisted of an all black combat shield that was three feet in diameter, along the edge of the shield was a golden razor edge that was used for cutting. Unlike other students, he was unable to dull the edge in his weapon form. Attached to the shield was a long metal chain with a small but heavy black weight at the end. At the angle the shield was coming in, it was headed to impact Iris head on. It descended diagonally with the long metal chain following closely behind. If one blocked the shield, the chain would no doubt impact over a wider area either entangling the individual, doing damage with the attached black weight, or both.

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Iris grimaced at Damien. It was good to see him again, but he really needed to change his vernacular in this situation. He made an impressive punch at one student who had slipped into her blind spot, and in response she knocked away two more students with her blunt sword with two quick slashes before placing the weapon back in its sheathe. The two then met back to back as Damien explained the situation, which Iris was fully aware of. Her fighting style was great for fighting multiple attackers, since the wide slashes from her sword can strike multiple incoming targets. Her throat was still recovering from the shouting she did to announce her presence, but she did manage to resume her smirk and speak just enough for Damien to hear.

"All right. Also... don't call me 'honey' out here. Might give people the wrong impression." she said timidly as her gray eyes surveyed the chaos going on around her.

She noticed someone running strait towards he while she was finishing that sentence, and then leaping towards her. He was a Weapon, changing into a shield with a chain attached to it. Iris noted how unique of a Weapon form it was, but didn't let it distract her from planning her response. She didn't want to take the chance that Damien wouldn't notice and move himself, so she had to come up with something a bit more creative. She leaned forward and jumped into the air to meet her new challenger, making sure the angle of her ascent would make her pass below the Shield boy. She drew her sword as soon as she left the ground, and skillfully ran the blade through a link in the chain, turning her body as she did so. The resulting centripetal motion would cause the chain to come off the sword, but not before redirecting the shield to hopefully throw it out of the skirmish, so as not to cause collateral damage to any other students that may be nearby.

She landed in a kneeling position as she re-sheathed her sword, then turned to see the results of her plan.

Drake hurled, his pathway to Iris was dead on except he didn't intend for her to move forward toward. He watched, through the black exterior of the shield as she moved under him and drew her blade. Before the tip of the blade could find the vacant space between links, the chain would glow a hot white along with the shield as a whole. Iris would find the chain no longer metal but now flesh. A pale white hand would grip the 'dull' blade and pull it in and away from his body, "Welcome to the DMWA" Drake would tease while he used the previous force of him pulling on the sword to propel himself forward toward Iris, his free hand outstretching to grip her free arm by the elbow joint. At their close proximity if he wasn't able to grab her arm at the elbow joint, he'd be able to grab some part of arm nonetheless rendering both arms unusable unless she let go of the sword.

Which she wouldn't. As the two would descend with Drake on top he would yell, "Forest Strike - Headbutt!" As he launched his head forward aiming to deliver a strong brain rambling blow to Iris's forehead.

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"Excuse you," the young woman snapped as she was jostled about. "Peasant." Eva added under her breath as she brushed her braid to the side, fully intending to smack someone in the face with it. She needed to stand on that rock far more than he did, given her distinct height disadvantage in snagging a prime viewing spot. She held her phone with both hands to steady the viewing feed, and gave the screen one final tap. "And.. we are live! This is Eva Liu, streaming right from my phone that battle royale you doubt heard about all fucking day long and wish people would just shut up the hell up about. As you can see here, we are behind the school and directly in front of me is the quote unquote arena. Because we don't get enough chances to get beaten senseless in between combat classes and completing missions!"

Of course she'd be here. How could something illicit and exciting go down at the school and somehow escape her attention? She had a reputation to build here, and this was just the perfect chance to do it, all without breaking a sweat. All she needed to do was whip her phone out and run her mouth as she was wont anyways, easy enough for her. "And... it looks like our first match has begun! As you can note to my side, Dr. Nowak is currently running up a bet. Expect someone to spit out the odds soon so that even if you're not participating, you can still be beaten up in the wallet."

"She doesn't even go here!" someone off to the side boomed as Iris introduced herself.

"Astute observation, person who's voice I don't recognize right now. Fuck you very much for making the accidental-on purpose Mean Girls reference I was just about to make.

Dr. Nowak, today sure is a fine day to watch people beat the everloving crap out of one another. What do you make of this so-called ronin samurai chick? I personally want to see her wipe the floor with every last idiot meathead cause you know, represent, but what's your take on this team up to take her down?"

Impressive reaction time. This boy was able to detect her strategy in the instant that she moved her sword towards the chain. Using her precious sword to pull himself forward, however, might not have been the greatest strategy. Iris curled her legs inwards as soon as he started to come up, then made sure to greet his ascent with descending feet aimed at his stomach, which was about on-level with her legs now as he reached for her free arm.

Iris really wanted to come up with a witty comeback to the Weapon's almost taunting tone as he welcomed her to the DWMA, but she's already put her vocal cords into overtime. Any more talking would have to wait until after the battle was done, if she was still conscious. If things keep going this way, though, Iris was actually feeling very confident that she would be able to walk away from this with at least some reputation building. Right now, though, she had to hope this kick would force the boy to release her sword.

No one touches that sword but her. Well, her and people she decided to let touch it. That was a very small list, and this guy wasn't on it.

Cr-unch.

Something had snapped beneath the weight of his foot. It was probably an already fracture or cracked bone belonging to one of the fallen victims that had piled up. Of course in stepping on them Zeek further victimized and humiliated the now former participants. The mass of bodies continued to swell, providing an even sturdier path to tread upon as the demon weapon sought out his next target. All conventional methods for acquiring a target had gone out the window the moment he had set foot within the established arena. With each step groans and moans from his human stepping stones grew less audible as his senses only focused on things related to the action.

In the distance additional participants had entered the scene. One was a female who had announced she was not a student of Shibusen, not that it wasn't obvious, especially with her over the top theatrics. She'd be a nice one to take on. But beside her stood a rather large and formidable looking fellow who peaked Zeek's interest even more than the girl. A smirk flashed across the teen's face for but a brief moment, and then he was off. Although he had set his sights upon the target Zeek had made no effort to increasing his pace. No, rushing things wouldn't do without knowing anything about the guy.

Instead, Zeekiel deliberately took the time to secure footing on a body occupying the ground before moving forward and onto the next one. Though such behavior was rather cruel and unusual, what was even more out of the ordinary was the menacing straightforward-tense face her wore, with his cold grey eyes locked onto the guy known as Damien. Combined with the blood that now speckled his tanned skin and stained his black buckskin pants and moccasins, Zeekiel truly looked like some other worldly creature among his peers.

The distance had been closed within a relatively short period, granted the girl had already found an opponent by the time Zeek was in speaking range of Damien. Though it contradicted all prior actions he had exhibited thus far, Zeek spoke in attempt to enact a proper contest between himself and the opponent he sought.

"Shall we continue with the now customary bloodshed?"

The words he spoke were awkwardly formal, but he look in his eyes indicated this challenge was just as serious if not more so, than the other bouts taking place within the arena. Beyond the surface within his mind, Zeek analyzed the information his senses were taking in, noticing the gauntlets covering Damien's hands and feeling more at ease that his arms remain partially transformed with blades along each of his forearms.

Hopefully this guy would be more of a challenge.

Well damn.

Cyrus shook his head. He'd been about to enter this no-holds-barred brawl, screaming for vengeance and embracing death, which was funny cause death wasn't too far away. But he'd gotten sidetracked, making sure his guitar was okay, making sure no one messed with it. Very few things made the Irish cajun lose his cool, and One of them was messin' with that guitar.

She was fine, tucked away in a corner, away from prying eyes and meddling hands. He was sure of that. So, without further ado, he grabbed the shotgun, and was about to step in when, "Hmmm...Silas McDonald! He stopped, looking in the crowd, trying to find out who could have butchered his name so bad. He saw the "Good" doctor, leaning uncerimoniously on the head of another student, who was trying to protest. Spot me a twenty, and I'll split the winnings with you...1/99.

Cyrus's hand rose, burying his face in it. This guy was joking, right? He raised his head. The nurse didn't need the money, that much was obvious. He hadn't missed many meals, that much was obvious. Na, He didn't need the money. He just wanted the money. Well,Cyrus thought to himself, if he wants the money so bad, he can get off that poor kid's head and earn it. But he wasn't getting it from him.

Na, sorry Doc. I ain't got it today. If ya need it so bad Maybe you can get one of those part-time jobs everyone talks about He grinned, happy to dig that knife just a little deeper. He'd probably pay for it later, when he gets home from a mission with more broken bones than you can count, But hell. It was worth it.

Now, If you will excuse me, I've got to be gettin' in this thing. Au Revoir! He gave the doc a mocking wave, and finally stepped over the threshold. Backwards. Which wasn't the best plan, as a young swordsman ran up behind him and, with a roaring battlecry, Delivered an overhead blow directly to the top of Cyrus's head, Disorienting him. Maudit, that hurt like a mother. But he didn't get mad. He got even, Drawing his .454 Out of the shoulder holster he kept it on and firing four rounds at point-blank range into the Swordsman's midsection. At least he had a broken rib as the swordsman fell, clutching his chest. At worst...well good thing there was a doctor here.

Now it was time to get serious.

Charon smiled with a vicious glee that left nothing but a manic looking madman in the midst. He was still in his usual school attire despite the sweltering heat but he also had several cooling packs with him, sticking out of his pockets even to help keep him cool. This was perfect. Forget the fight, they were bloodying each other up just fine and he had other plans anyway. A good many swings he'd love to take but he'd not be getting in trouble for fighting this time. Oh no, he had a much BETTER reason to be here today.

He hefted a single large ice cooler over one shoulder and had a couple others bound up to form a train behind him. He watched the blood fly and listened to the glorious sound of breaking bones and sniveling children. God, he loved fights like these. Nothing was more satisfying than beating people into the dirt. He'd love to jump in the fray and just let loose but he knew so much better. One slip, even too much excitement for the fight and he'd be getting a weapon rammed up his posterior and possibly a soul purge or two shot off to stop him. No, the fight wasn't his and it should stay that way.

A deep bellow rang out across the field. "ICE COLD DRINKS, SNACKS, AND ICE PACKS! GET EM WHILE THEY'RE COLD AND REFRESHING! I'M ALSO TAKING BETS! ALL BIDS ON THE WINNER WELCOME!! DAMIEN, UPPERCUT TO YOUR SIX O'CLOCK OR GET OUT OF THE FIGHT YOU GLORY HOUND!" It was hard to miss the behemoth even amidst the jumble of bodies. The order Pierce had shouted wasn't for Damien's benefit so much as to spur the giant into action so he could watch the glorious results. He'd felt the guy's power himself. This was going to be one of the best fights ever.

He plopped the cooler on the ground to use as a seat and arranged the rest of the cooler train around himself in an arc so that he could fill the orders of the more fortunate failed heroes and the other spectators. Blood, gore, broken bones, shattered dreams, sniveling and screaming, havoc AND a profit for not jumping in and killing people? He was in heaven. At least, this what he thought his heaven would probably look like. He grinned like a madman as he watched, faintly humming some vague tune of ages passed to himself. He was happy to let the sun beat down on his tanned skin while the other students beat down on each other. Everyone was gonna get beaten today one way or another.

Time to have some fun, kick back, and enjoy the show. He popped a bag of popcorn out of one coolers and set it outside his little area of shade to let the sun pop it for him. He set a single sport drink beside his cooler-seat and went about setting up what little display was needed for his business. A couple of open coolers to draw wanting eyes to the refreshing prizes held within atop a thick layer of ice. Each cooler's lid has the price list taped on the underside in a waterproof sleeve so there were no questions at all about how much anything they held cost.

After a cooler emptied he might see if he could sell the remaining ice to the less fortunate or just donate it to the cause of the bruised ones. Why not? If it wasn't all melted by then maybe, but otherwise it'd make a nice victory bath for the victor. He hoped it was Damien simply so he could chunk a whole cooler of ice water on the smiling behemoth. It'd be a perfect ending. Fingers crossed Damien did come out on top. He'd be placing a good hundred or so on the boxer as soon as bets came in if ever.

"All right. Also... don't call me 'honey' out here. Might give people the wrong impression." Damien grinned at Iris' timidity. "Aw, 'honey' not working out for you? Then how about sweetheart? Or is sugar more up your alley?" Damien laughed at his lighthearted teasing, until the flying shield came...well, flying his way. For protection, Damien roped an unlucky student and wrapped him up in a bear hug. Using his superhuman strength, Damien hauled the student in between Damien and Drake and braced for impact.

When nothing happened, Damien was subtly disappointed. "Hey, what the hell?" The student demanded. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry about that." With a single, excruciating liver blow, Damien knocked the student out for the count. "Hang on Iris, I'm on my way!" Damien called out. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for her favorite son.

"DAMIEN, UPPERCUT TO YOUR SIX O'CLOCK OR GET OUT OF THE FIGHT YOU GLORY HOUND!""

"Got it!" Spinning around, Damien crouched, ducking a head shot from a sneaky student behind him. Exploding upwards, Damien lifted the poor soul off his feet from the force of the uppercut. "Thanks for the heads up, Pierce!" Damien yelled as he turned back to find Iris.

"Shall we continue with the now customary bloodshed?"

Damien sighed as he turned around. A demon weapon, some kind of ax by the looks of it, had challenged him. "Wow. Definitely Native American.[/i]" Damien thought, looking at his get-up. Damien fully expected the weapon to start the familiar undulating yell and charge. Still, Damien could feel that this brat was dangerous. "Actually, Iris, I might take a little while longer." Though the demon weapon tried to scare Damien, he was messing with the wrong boxer. A brawl like this, where killing was expressly forbidden? Hell, this was a Sunday walk in the park. All the Demon Tomahawk elicited from Damien was his customary smile. "Alright mate, but don't come crying to me afterwards!"

Laughing, Damien dashed forward, ghosting over the bodies littering the field with his immaculate footwork. Throwing a series of jabs as he got close to distract Zeek, Damien made his way well into Zeek's territory. Aiming for a headbutt straight to Zeek's nose, Damien simultaneously pivoted on his left foot, aiming for a crushing kidney blow to cripple the Weapon and leave him an easy target for a finisher.