Realistic or Modern BADAZZ (Always accepting!)

[Elekta Kount]

Name: Yoshimoto Kenji
Race: Human
Aura: Greenish-Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Outside of Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: The Black Knight iijora Elenion Aura Xale


'What have I gotten myself into this time?'

Yoshimoto Kenji, the Crane of the Eastern Kirin District, was currently perched upon the building across the street from Akashiro's Restaurant, observing the commotion that was now taking place at said restaurant. Kenji felt the wind blow around him, as he felt his hair sway in the wind...a piece of paper was firmly gripped in Kenji's hand. It was a newspaper ad, advertising Akashiro's Restaurant, with it's address underlined.

Kenji had only just arrived on the scene to observe a number of...uniquely dressed people(although Kenji hadn't the room to talk) enter the Akashiro's Restaurant, and it didn't take a genius to realize that between the already busted up exterior and the group's weird and creepy looks that somthing bad was most likely going on in there. Not that Kenji would have cared less, but it just so happened that he had some business with the man inside...and, well.... if all of this was a problem for the man on the inside, then it was now his problem as well.

Stowing the newspaper clipping into his vest pocket, Kenji quickly scaled down the building into an allyway across the street, emerging into a tiny crowed that had yet to run away from the commotion at the first sign of trouble. Kenji then leaned his back against the wall, tilting his head down so that his hat naturally covered his face. From his position, Kenji observed three of them were now outside; the big one with the teal hair stood out from the rest as being particular intimating looking, but more importantly, this man was in Kenji's way.

Kenji continued to observe the sentry, but before he could really act, somthing to his side caught his keen eyes. A young man was bolting down the street, and it looked like he had pulled out some sort of blunt instruments from his bag. Such courage, though does he have the skills to match? Kenji wondered from his position, but suddenly the young man then froze in his convictions. It didn't take Kenji long to figure out why: as he followed the fellow's gaze to another young man that was currently leaping at the big teal head with a closed fist.

'This kid is going to get sacked' Kenji thought, letting out a huff, as he watched the young man fly through the air...kid might have been way over his head on this, but he was brave...dammit...it wasn't in Kenji's nature to just merely stand there and watch...

"If anybody else would like to help, now sounds about good!"

Kenji said out loud, as he gripped onto the side of his hat with three of his fingers, and with one motion flung his hat forward at quite an impressive speed. As the projectile like hat began to glow a greenish-blue color, shootingt out from the crowd and flew stright at Neiji's right leg, it's intent was to strike at a weak spot and unbalance the man.

Spoiler: Sifu's Last Gift

 

[Ginko The Mushishi]

Name: Zheng Luang
Race: Human
Aura: Phoenix Fire Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025.
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District. ( Flirting lessons never felt so good)
Tagging: The Black Knight Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi Zamasu _Line 213 Fearmonger iijora Xale Elekta Kount Elenion Aura (Just adding you guys in case!)

"To be quite honest, I have no clue.." Lu said to Joanna, initially he would go for whoever is the most easiest first. By doing that it would take out the unneccessary small fry, but considering these guys exhumed strength, Lu was unsure any of them were weak. "These guys are strong, I don't have any technique that could take them all out at once, but I certainly got a style up my sleeve still.. I guess its just pick the one you wanna fight and do what you can."

Lu watched as Taiga struggled with Tensai, he felt bad for the girl. He would have helped her if he could, but he was already stuck picking out who to fight. His eyes stopped just short of Helmet-head returned from his slumber. Man did he look uglier than before. Lu remembered something from his past, his father's old music player. There was a certain song that Lu felt would have been just right for the occassion of Helmet-heads return. Some song named "Thriller" by this guy named Michael Jackson. The song was mainly about getting down with the funk, but it was meant for the undead to shuffle to. Perhaps if he played the song now, would Helmet-head be able to resist the power of forty thousand years of funk?

Lu shook his head, it wasn't time to think about that right now but his mind was still stuck on it, for some odd reason he also decided to say "This is thriller...." ...Which then he looked down in embarrassment. Returning to the seriousness of the fight rather quick, Lu pointed at PB, Pretty Boy.

"YOU!...You've been bothering me this whole time, what the hell are you? A guy or a girl?" Lu questioned, his curiosity actually peaking at this point.

PB took this as a compliment, giving off a slight giggle and laying his hands over his face. "Is it really that hard to tell? Am I just that beautiful to you?" PB stepped forward, smirking at Lu. Whom in return stepped backwards. "Well if you're a girl you've got pretty small breasts, not that that's a bad thing though! I mean beauty comes in all shapes and sizes as they say...But you just come off as weird."

PB took offense to that, and his sassy, cute, and odd teasing was gone. He jumped up, while spinning at a speed Lu couldn't even determine, and slammed his foot right into Lu's jaw, throwing Lu back as well as spinning around in circles, Lu slammed hard against the floor and coughed, feeling every bit of his lungs clench up tight from the force of the landing. Trying his best to get up, he could only wheeze out a few words "Jee.....zus...Cri.....st!"

"Shut up, you insolent little pig of a man! Is that all that matters to you? A nice big rack on a woman?" PB said, walking closer to Lu. All the while, Lu was shaking his head....Honestly it seemed as if the guy didn't listen to him fully "N...No I was...Saying..." He couldn't finish, as PB slammed his knee into Lu's chin, throwing him back onto the floor. Lu laid on the floor, regaining composure while also breathing. Pretty Boy stood over him, smirking. "I'm not like the others, I won't give you a chance to even think of your next move." Lu laughed at this. Spinning around the floor and threw his legs out, as if break dancing against the floor, it was used as a feint to distract PB. Using the strength in his arms Lu pushed up and into the air, ramming his foot into PB's chest, while PB was taken by the blow, Lu decided to throw in another kick for good measure, slamming the other leg right into his chest and pushing as hard as he could, throwing PB back towards one of the tables, which stabilized him.

Lu however, while still in the air, flipped and landed on his feet again. "Alright sweetheart, kids are in bed, car's running, I got my check-book. Let's go out to dance" Lu smirked, returning to his normal stance, although not yet ready to initiate the Heavenly Gates Style. PB grinned as he licked his lips, getting into a fighting stance of his own. "Oh honey you shouldn't have..." His voiced oozed out with excitement and sadistic fun.

 

[_Line 213]

Name: Aline Romani
Race: Human
Aura: ???
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: The Black Knight , Ginko The Mushishi , Nenma Takashi , Zamasu , Fearmonger


Aline was not even afforded the ability to thank her mysterious benefactor as he carried her to the safety of the other side of the counter, such was her dizziness. Part of her wanted to plead for him not to leave right away, lest she be left alone again but the rest of her was still in too much of a haze to do much of anything. Her diaphragm lacked the strength needed for her to speak at all, leaving raspy attempts at breathing her only vocalizations.

Now alone with an old man on the other end of what she hoped was a sturdy wall of wood, all the girl could do was curl up against herself once again, tucking her knees into her chest as tears continued to run down her face. Though she was out of sight, there was no telling whether she was truly out of mind as well; if any of the gang members decided to waltz around to the other side of the bar, she was as good as dead. All she could do was hope that she wouldn't be awake long enough to see the handicapped elder next to her subjected to anything. She could barely look at the man, her mind compelling her to do everything she could to simply make herself as small as possible, even as the pain continued to fade away.

Not even her music was available to her, her belongings now scattered throughout the establishment as a result of her brief flight. Her music could have perhaps distracted her from the pain and the burning cheeks that only served to emphasize her humiliation, but there was no way that she could step back across the border without inviting more trouble than she was prepared to handle.

As the pains in her back and stomach continued to recede, fresh pains of the mind moved to replace them. She raised a hand, mopping sloppily at her eyes as she continued to push her knees as close to her as they could get. "Why did I come here?" she cried to herself, her other hand moving up to dab at the other eye, "I'm so out of my league! What was I even thinking..." She even moved to reign in her sound, still shuddering with emotion even as she forced herself to remain silent, as if even the slightest noise would prompt the appearance of one of the gang members. It was as if she failed to properly comprehend her own insignificance amongst the din of battle, the others doing everything they could to keep the restaurant intact.

 

[The Black Knight]

Name: Koizumi Akashiro
Race: Human
Aura: Red
Date/Time: January 1, 2025, 11:30 AM
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District.
Tagging: Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi iijora Zamasu Elenion Aura Fearmonger _Line 213 Ginko The Mushishi Xale

From left to right: Akinari; Fujio; Hideki; Chikao; and Helmet

Spoiler: Deathstalker Theme

• Akinari (Red Terror): He is boyish and excitable as well as the most destructive. He is like a child in a china shop, and will happily wreck any establishment or property he is ordered to. Preferred Weapon: Fists wrapped in steel chain.
• Fujio (Ash Tray): He didn’t just receive his nickname because he smells like secondhand smoke all the time, but he likes to beat his enemies to near-death and then twist out his cigarette on their faces. Preferred Weapon: Fists. He sometimes uses his cigarette as a distraction, stabbing it into his enemy’s eyes or flicking ash into their face.
• Hideki (Leader): He runs the clown show. No one really knows what happened to his left eye. He probably lost it in a fight or as punishment. Preferred Weapon: Hidden wakizashis up his sleeves.
• Chikao (Quiet): The quiet types are usually the worst ones. Chikao actually is a quiet sadist who likes to cut his enemies. He will cut them to death rather than outright kill them just so he can see them bleed. Preferred Weapon: Knives. He has them all beneath his robes, and he has plenty to not only cut with but throw.
• Helmet (Batter): Not even his fellow peers know anything about him. He is some dude who likes to wear his motorcycle helmet and won’t ever take it off. There have been whispers that something happened to his face, making him hideous to look at. The last guy who tried to take his helmet off got a spiked bat to the skull. Preferred Weapon: Spiked Bat; he also uses PEDs.

From left to right: Fedora, Neiiji, Jesus, Pretty Boy, and Tensai.​

• Fedora (Copy Cat): Her perception level is superhuman. She has the ability to learn her opponent’s movements, improvise them, and use them against them. Solo, she is impossible to take down. She is a quiet one and never speaks. Preferred Weapon: Knuckledusters.
• Neiji (GM-NPC/Leader): He is the leader of this gang and despite having many rivals within his own Deathstalker group, the other gangs cannot deny that Neiji is a frightening fighter. Not much is known about him, but those who have seen him fight show him nothing but respect. Preferred Weapon: Unknown
• Jesus (Deadman): He doesn’t fight. Why fight when there are others to fight for him? Literally. He uses his ki to resurrect fallen fighters, and they will do his bidding. They will protect him fiercely making it almost impossible for anyone to lay a finger on him. Preferred Weapon: Downed fighters.
• Pretty Boy: Everyone has called him “Pretty Boy” for the longest time that they don’t even know his real name anymore. Behind those shades is a man…or a woman…what? His androgynous features make his gender hard to distinguish. He is very vain, but supposedly, no one has ever managed to damage his moneymaker (his face). They say Pretty Boy can enter a fight with multiple opponents and still emerge beautiful. Thus the name. Preferred Weapon: His vanity and a steel comb that acts as a knife.
• Tensai: The nerd is a genius. Like Fedora, he will study his enemy’s movements and knows exactly how to penetrate their guard. He will bob and weave, lean and dip, and make his hits count in the most sensitive of places. He uses pressure point techniques, and if he wants to, just for fun, he’ll use his skull-shaped bo staff to break bones. Preferred Weapon: Brain and bone staff.

Akashiro grimaced when he saw The Deathstalker’s reinforcements enter. The restaurant was getting crowded, and he didn’t have much space to offer to the brawlers. This whole situation felt like his fault, but he knew what would have happened if he gave them the satisfaction of a fight. No matter what he did, The Deathstalkers still would have came back. With all the attention being drawn to his restaurant by—what he assumed to be just nosy adolescents looking for a fight—there was no way out of this. He would have had to close down his restaurant and give The Deathstalkers what they wanted in order to end the fighting, but what would that accomplish? His name was cursed. He would only find peace in death.

The girl who had entered the restaurant earlier. The one who he could immediately tell wasn’t a martial artist like a wolf could distinguish food from not. She had made a mistake coming here, and he had no idea what in her right mind had convinced her to enter this ruin. She panicked.

Let me out! I’m not even involved in this, I just got here!

Neiji caught the girl’s face in the palm of his hand. His fingers clutched the sides before he shoved her back away from the exit.

“Sucks to be you,” Neiji told her coldly before he raised his left leg at the knee, and in a swift blur his boot struck her abdomen. The girl folded in half about his leg before the force of his kick sent her flying backwards to thud like a corpse upon the hard floor. Smoothly, Neiji retracted his leg, lowering it calmly to the ground as he stared down at her. Helmet, Akinari, and the rising Chikao grinned and laughed at Aline, their eyes aglow.

Akashiro’s grip tightened on the rests of his wheelchair as he gazed fiercely at the gang. “Attacking an innocent? You had no right!”

“Shut up, old man,” Neiji scoffed on his monotone voice.

This was going too far! Akashiro’s hands went to the wheel of his chair in preparation for wheeling out onto the floor when he saw Lu quickly rush to the downed girl’s aid. The pony-tailed fighter rushed her over to him as though he knew she would be safe in his presence.

Sorry you got caught up in all of this. It’s my fault for letting things get this far.

He was blaming himself? Akashiro watched Lu leap back into the fray. He had always thought the boy was a clown and mischief-maker. He always came to his restaurant to not only eat but bother him. The old fighter was shocked to see a different side of him. Was this his true nature?

Right after, the woman with the crazy psychopath girlfriend dumped her off in his lap. Akashiro’s eyes widened and mouth fell open. What was he a babysitter now? Closing his eyes, a vein pulsed on his forehead as he lifted Cherie and bent over in his chair to carefully set her upon the floor next to Aline. He honestly didn’t want anything to do with the girl. She was no better than the ruffians trying to destroy his place. After he set Cherie down, Akashiro grasped his wheels and rolled around her to Aline who was squirming in pain. He took Aline’s left arm in his hand and rested his thumb three fingers below her wrist-line. A red glowing spot appeared beneath his thumb as he applied gentle pressure to the pressure point between her tendons.

“This should ease the pain,” Akashiro told her. The acupressure he was applying was meant to alleviate stomach pain and with his ki entering her, her pain receptors would start to numb. The man who had appeared with Aline walked over then, laying his jacket over her and patting her on the head. Akashiro glared at him. What was he hoping to get? A hot date? Or maybe he was hoping to show off to her. Idiot.

Clap, clap, clap! Neiji’s eyes narrowed as he heard rapid footsteps approaching him from behind.

A-BOMB!

Neiji tilted his head to the left, his body dipping to the side as Juro’s feet would pass over his shoulder. Neiji’s hands locked about Juro’s shins and adding his strength to the kid’s already speedy momentum, Neiji rocked forward, planning to swing Juro like an axe against the overhang above the door. The strength he was applying was enough to send the kid smashing through the wood and plaster on his way to the floor in front of him.

Meanwhile, a man swiftly sprinted in the way of Kenji’s flying hat. A gleaming blade was in his hand that he deflected the object with in one powerful swing with every intention of sending the hat flying at JV. The man had gleaming green eyes and a wicked grin, and he was brandishing a wakizashi. It was Hideki! Standing next to the impression Hideki’s body had made in the wall was a man wearing a wide-brimmed hat of his own. His was a little floppier and his stitched mouth was parted in a friendly grin. He waved happily at Kenji as he greeted, “Hey muchacho! Is backstabbing what they teach you at your school? You should face Neiji like a man, hombre.” The corner of Jesus’s lip then arched impishly. “Then again, that might have been the only way you’d have a chance to win.”

A red-haired fighter hopped onto the window sill, his green glowing eyes gazed at the fighters outside before he grinned mischievously. Akinari stepped down from the window and walked up to stand next to Jesus as he began wrapping his hands in chains.

Back Inside

Akashiro’s eyes widened when someone went flying through his counter to crash into the refrigerator. Now my counter and fridge!? he thought in horror. He watched Joanna sluggishly pick herself up. “Are you going to beat that girl or destroy my kitchen?” Akashiro grumbled at Joanna.

Aline started to breakdown. He figured the trauma of being struck so ruthlessly was now getting to her. Akashiro figured he had applied enough pressure to her arm and released it. “Was that the first time you’ve ever taken a hit?” he asked her. “They get worse, but you can get stronger to the point that they won’t happen so easily anymore.”

Helmet had his sights on Aoki. He seemed interested in only one thing: revenge! She was the bitch that put him down. Now he was going to put her down! He reached a hand inside his motorcycle jacket and removed two syringes of PEDs. Stabbing them into his shoulder, Helmet bore his teeth as the veins of his neck and hands dilated to the size of tree branches. The leather of his jacket swelled as his muscles inflated and billowed beneath the material.

“RAAAAH!” Helmet bellowed as the sleeves of his jacket exploded, revealing arms that could have been cut from boulders. His jeans split about the hips as he grew to a seven-in-a-half-foot height. The white tank that had been beneath his jacket was stretched thin about his pecs. Baring his teeth at Aoki as drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth, he slammed his fist against the floor and it passed through. Grasping a floorboard, he ripped it free and swung it around as a substitute for his bat that she had smashed. Clapping the end against his palm, he grinned at the sight of the nails before his face hardened into an ugly scowl. The shards of glass still lodged in his mug didn’t seem to bother him for all he could see was red!

Fujio took advantage of Lu being distracted by Pretty Boy, and he crept up behind him in an attempt to lock his arms under the fighter’s arms until his hands could fold at the back of Lu’s neck in an attempted armlock.

Chikao eerily turned toward Addison who was standing in front of Aline, Cherie, and the old man from what he could see. He giggled shrilly. His laughter leaking through a wide grin. His hands reached inside his coat and when he removed them, he had throwing knives clutched between his fingers. He held his arms out to his sides as his glowing green eyes settled on Cherie. His eyes started to tremble as he remembered that bitch straddling him and stabbing him to death. Now she was lying there all vulnerable. “I’m going to make you bleed,” Chikao threatened as his grin morphed downward into a vicious scowl.

Akashiro’s hands went to grasp the wheels of his chair defensively. Chikao swung his right hand, sending five knives flying at Addison, and if he dodged, they would head to their actual target: Cherie.


GM Note: Don't forget about the others! Main Goal: Restaurant's survival.

 

[_Line 213]

Name: Aline Romani
Race: Human
Aura: ???
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: The Black Knight


The girl forced herself to nod; she considered asking how the old man knew, but considering how she must have looked, her addled mind nonetheless managed to conclude that it was likely an obvious observation. Even once the pain had stopped, her tears continued to flow; Aline swiped at her face with her sleeves several times, even as the man continued to reassure her. Aline's breath steadied all the same, no doubt in large part to Akashiro's therapy.

"I just...I don't understand how someone is supposed to come back from something like that," she replied, a tremble still present to her tone despite managing to find her voice again. "It takes so much, I just..." She shook her head, unable to sort out her own thoughts for several moments. The remaining unpleasantness in her midsection forced her to cough, and her attempts at keeping such a thing soft were met with loud and ugly resistance that merely worsened her condition for several moments. Her mind remained in partial overdrive, even as she forced herself away from one topic of conversation and toward another; her hopelessness prompted her to keep talking, but there were some things that she simply couldn't mention, not then and there, even if she really and truly wanted to.

"I'm sorry for dragging everyone else down like this, they're all working so hard to protect your shop and I'm in the way." She finally pulled her arms away from her face, slowly reaching down to press a palm against her stomach as the man's easing treatment finally managed to return her sensations to manageable levels. "I don't know why I thought I'd be able to make it here, it's...it's nothing like what I would have imagined. I don't know how someone could go through something like this more than once." Her brows furrowed, though it wasn't due to any sort of pain. If anything, the mousy girl seemed momentarily yet intensely upset, maybe even angry, but her lapse back into a more distressed expression hinted that there were a plethora of other emotions further forward in line. "...I just hope they win."

 

[Elekta Kount]

Name: Yoshimoto Kenji
Race: Human
Aura: Greenish-Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: Open

Spoiler: Background Combat Music

The hat plinked off of the sword, but would soon veered off it's intended course to return to it's owner. Kenji caught the hat in a graceful motion, gently placing it on his head to where it was covering his face once more. Soon Kenji was seen advancing calmly out of the crowed, two fingers would held up in a mediating position near the front-center of his face, as many of the civilians began dispersing at the sight of more trouble.

"If it had been anybody else, I would of taken offense to your friend's comments...but coming from him...I just find it ironic." Kenji spoke calmly as he approach, his body language suggested that he was speaking to the cyclops. "...besides, I'd feel bad for picking on a defenseless man."

Kenji would halt not far from Hideki, as he tiled his hat just enough to reveal his eyes; eyes that were staring at and meeting Hideki's eyes.

"I'll give you one chance to walk away from all of this without unharmed, as I'd rather not fight you." Said, as he looked up slightly to reveal his eyes, meeting the amused gaze of the swordsmen with a much more serious one.

"Are you joking?" Hideki said laughing at Kenji. "You really think you could beat me after that kind of cheap trick?"

"You'd be surprised...very well" Kenji said with a shrug, as he brought both hands to the center of his chest, the left hand balled into a fist with the knuckles resting against the palm of an open hand, as Kenji gave a small bow towards Hideki. "...I shall be your opponent today..." Kenji then stood up stright, then raised his left leg into a crane stance. "...prepare yourself...because at the end of this, you'd only have yourself to blame."

Hideki just smirked at the sight of Kenji, bring his blade from his shoulder to his side. "Cute, but don't expect mercy from me...I won't worry, though, this will be over quick."

"At least we've agreed on somthing today." Kenji responded in a matter of fact tone. No sooner did Kenji said that, Hideki quickly lunged forward with his blade at the ready. As Hideki approached, he slashed forward with one motion. This caused Kenji to quickly back step with little hesitation, but Hideki began to follow up his initial attack. Hideki's slashes were rapid, as most of the attacks went by so fast that Kenji wasn't able to dodge completely, as cut marks began appearing across his body from Hideki's relentless assault. However, Kenji would continue to back up as Hideki sliced forward, attempting to dodge of the way of Hideki's assault all the while paying close attention to the movement of his blade. To anybody else, it would seem that Hideki's aggression was keeping Kenji on the defensive, some may even say it was keeping Kenji from attacking....

"What's wrong? Arn't you suppose to be fighiting me!?" Hideki cackled, as he swung his sword horizontally and inflicting another cut on Kenji, before bring his wakizashi back to perform a stabbing motion. "Too scared, huh!? All that talk and not enough skill to back it u-" Hideki had expected to stab through Kenji, but much to his shock, Kenji had suddenly halted his retreat just as Hideki lunged forward. Kenji would quickly tilt his body to the side, narrowly avoiding Hideki's blade and allowed it to sail past him. Then, Kenji would quickly wrap his arm around Hideki's outstretched arm. In one fluid motion, Kenji twisted the weapon wielding arm, sending pain to shoot through Hideki's arm. This caused Hideki to scream out in pain, as his hand instinctively released his weapon at the pain in his arm. Kenji then brought up his right knee to strike Hideki in the stomach, before using the palm of his free hand to strike Hideki in the chest. The strike on Hideki's chest threw him in a backwards direction, to which Kenji would release Hideki's twisted hand and allowed him to stumble away.

"What's wrong? Not in the smiling mood anymore?..." Kenji said in a calm tone, as he observed Hideki recovered from the stumbled, giving Kenji a less-then-pleasant scowl. Kenji didn't really respond to Hideki's expression, as he slowly placed his foot under the now fallen sword. Then with one smooth movement, kicked up the weapon with his feet and caught it with one arm. "...and you had such great confidence but only a few minutes ago...swinging away with this beautiful blade of yours..." Kenji brought the blade closer to examine it, before bringing up his right knee to waist length...then broke the sword in two at the hilt with one graceful chop, causing the blade itself to fall to the floor. "...oops, I broke it...too bad..." Kenji took a moment to eye the broken sword, before tossing the grip into the gutters, all the while he could hear Hideki audibly grit his teeth. "...now your going have to sully your hands in combat, what a shame."

"Fine by me, you fucking punk." Hideki sneered, as he turned his head and spat, which for some reason caused Kenji to smile. Hideki brought his into a fighting position. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll regret sticking your fucking miserable ass face in somebody else's fucking business!"

Kenji narrowed his eyes at his comment.

"Try me."

Hideki roared, as he charged forward at Kenji with an incredible speed, his hand brought back in a charged attack, before shooting it forward towards Kenji at the last few seconds of approach. Kenji would quickly dodge to the attack, but by then Hideki had brought up his other fist to strike Kenji at his side, which was quickly blocked by Kenji's parallel arm. However, Hideki , slamming his fist into Kenji stomach with such force that it quite literally knocked the breath out of Kenji's lungs. Hideki would waste no time in bringing a hand into the air, then slammed bringing the side of his palmed hand stright down onto Kenji's head, sending Kenji's head speed stright to the roadway with great force.

Kenji took a moment to catch his breath, trying to lift his head off of the pavement, but Kenji suddenly felt a great force pushing on his head. Kenji didn't need to look up to realize that it was Hideki, who was now literally stepping on him.

"Not so smart when your eating the fucking pavement!"

Hideki would then lift his foot and slammed it into Kenji's head, before he began stomping on Kenji's head, smashing into the pavement with all his might. Hideki would do this twice, before bringing his leg backwards and then football kicked it stright at Kenji's head. Kenji, despite his disorientated state, was able to push himself into a position where the kick would miss his head. Unfortunately, the foot would slam into Kenji's exposed stomach instead, hitting Kenji with such force that it sent him flying. As Kenji flew to the side, he bounced off the roadway a couple of times, before coming to a rolling halt at the street gutters.

When Kenji , trying to regain his bearings as he pushed himself up. After a moment, Kenji kicked up his legs with a grunt, and his entire body shot upwards, which allowed Kenji to land upright. Kenji then looked at Hideki, who was now giving him that wicked grin before, yet Kenji's facial expression hadn't change, although he was breathing heavily. Kenji took a moment to wipe off the spit from his face, looking back at the opposition and taking a wider stance to face Hideki.

Hideki shot forward again, this time sending a lower hook towards Kenji's stomach, but Kenji was ready, side stepping Hideki's attack and quickly jabbing Hideki in the side. Hideki recoiled slightly, but it gave Kenji enough room to then unleash a barrage of jabs at Hideki ribcage. Hideki brought his hand down in an attempt to block, which gave Kenji another opening, as he quickly shot his left leg up and slammed it into the right side of Hideki's head, then shooting the opposite arm up to palm strike Hideki's recoiling face, sending him stumbling to the side.

"Are you out of breath already?" Kenji said just mockingly, although his breath was just as heavy as his opposition. The sight of Hideki stumbling about, holding his head in pain and grinding his teeth, causing Kenji to grin inwardly a little. At least he was putting out as much as he was getting.

Kenji then quickly glanced to his side to observe the situation, spotting the young man with the batons a still bit away up the street. Kenji would raised an eyebrow, as he began to steady his breathing.

"Hey kid! If you wanna be a hero, go give one-punch man over there a hand." Kenji called out to JV, before returning his attention back towards Hideki, lifting a leg into the crane stance. "Now...where were we?"

It should be noted that as Kenji was calling out to JV, he had subtly re-positioned himself so his back would face one side of the road way, Akashiro's restaurant was facing his left while Hideki was facing his right. Sure, it appeared that Kenji was focused on Hideki, his arms even tilted to face him. Yet the position of his stance remained ever neutral to the road.

 

[Elenion Aura]

Name: Kuron
Race: Humanoid Android
Aura: Yellow
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Kinrin District; Outside Akashiro's Restaurant
Tagging: The Black Knight

Scan complete. Multiple targets detected. Defense systems online.​

Kuron watched the carnage with a half-lidded gaze in silence. Occasionally, The Voice chimed in his head to provide commentary on what they saw.

"This appears to be the Deathstalkers. As a gang they are quite well known." The voice said. "Though there are several individuals here with no known gang affiliation. Akashiro's own personal militia, perhaps?" Kuron did not respond right away. His eyes focused in passed the fighting outside. He peered through the blasted out windows at the man in the chair behind the bar. His eyes narrowed.

"Why does he not fight them?" Kuron asked after the space of silence had drawn on long enough. He never turned away his gaze, never blinked, even as the fighting outside drew closer and closer to his position.

"Who? Akashiro? He's an old man. And a cripple. Former champion or not, there is nothing he can do against a group of fresh, young gangbangers, KURON." The Voice responded, a tad wistful. "That will never be your lot, KURON. To grow old, wither and die, as all living things, eventually, do."

"Permission to engage?" Kuron asked once more. He felt the hesitation in the Voice of the man in the control room.

"Is this what you want? To fight?"

"Affirmative." Kuron replied.

After a pause, the Voice answered, "Permission granted, then-" Before the Voice could finish, Kuron was already taking action. He discarded his officer's jacket and cap, letting them both flutter to the concrete to lie in a heap on the sidewalk.

Defense systems: engaged. Acquiring targets. Missiles: armed.​

"Wait, wait! Stand down- no missiles! Standard combat procedures only."

"Understood." Kuron felt the Voice breathe a sigh of relief as he pulled off his gloves, leaving them with the rest of his outfit. He was left with a black tank top and his military-style fatigues as he slowly crossed the street and entered the fray. He approached the Deathstalkers nearest to him who were not currently locked in a pitched battle, a man in a floppy hat with a sewn up smile and a red-haired boy giving off a sickly green glow.

"Hello. I have come to fight you. Now, come." Kuron stopped short lifted his arms up, fists closed, and assumed a boxer's stance.

"Who does this clown think he is?!" The red-headed youth hopped from one foot to the other, the metal wrapped around his knuckles jingling with apparent delight. Meanwhile, the stitched-face man wore an easy smirk.

"You awful brave comin' round here talkin' like that, esé." The man's smile widened, stretching the stitching across his cheeks before he nodded to the red-head, who shot forward like a dog released from its leash. Akinari's chain-wrapped fist, meant for Kuron's cheek, was met instead by Kuron's fist. Crack! Sparks flew as their punches connected. The chains rattled. The sound was that of metal scraping against metal. For a moment, Akinari's face contorted with something short of surprise.

This surprise quickly morphed into a look of shock as Kuron pulled back and delivered a powerful punch to the reanimated boy's solar plexus, which drove him back toward his master. Akinari buckled for a moment before righting himself. The chains on his hand was cracked in places from Kuron's punch. Kuron's knuckles themselves were torn nearly to pieces, but instead of blood and flesh, revealed the sheen of a metallic surface underneath.

"What the Hell...?" Akinari shook his head and readied for another attack. Kuron, meanwhile, quietly waited. His stance, powerful and unmoved, was unwavering. He took a single step forward.

"Why you standin' around for? Get 'im!" Commanded the man in the floppy hat, causing Akinari to spring back into action. He charged Kuron, who lifted his forearms to defend himself as Akinari launched into a flurry of blows aimed for his face and torso, which were absorbed by Kuron's guard. The chains scratched and sloughed away the biological components of his forearms, revealing more of the metallic casing underneath. Kuron retaliated with a fast jab with his right to disorient Akinari, following it up with a crushing uppercut that knocked the reanimated Deathstalker onto his backside, landing beside the man with the stitches.

Kuron lowered his arms and stood, eyeing the battlefield and the man with the floppy hat. Bits of flesh hung from the metal that was now exposed along his forearms.

Target neutralized. Scanning for additional targets.​

 

[Tiramiisu]

Name: Aoki Heizo
Race: Human
Aura: White
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District (Attempting to save an ex-legend's restaurant)
Tagging: The Black Knight , Ginko The Mushishi , Nenma Takashi , Zamasu , _Line 213 , Fearmonger , Elekta Kount , Xale , Elenion Aura

Aoki sighed, watching as Lu and Joanna ran out to approach the new gang members. If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. She made an attempt to charge towards one of the newer fighters before Joanna zoomed past her, crashing into the kitchen. Aoki came to a sudden halt, leaving Helmet to seize the opportunity in charging towards her, swinging his new weapon at her. Aoki hopped onto the board and used it to leap over Helmet. The giant man stopped himself before he could crash into the counter and turned to charge at her again.

She ducked under the board, landing a punch on the man. He didn't even flinch as he wrapped his giant hand around her arm and threw her into a table set. Alright, that was stupid, She thought to herself, lifting her body out of the wrecked furniture. She had to take down this monster before he tore down the whole establishment.

Aoki stood up, wincing before she clutched her right shoulder. If this pain continued, she was bound to end up overworking her body and would eventually burn out during the fight. Helmet roared, swinging the board at her once more. He slammed it into the floor and she dove to the side. She knew the effects PEDs had on the human body, she had seen it first hand with Kei. Even though he had used a couple syringes of the performance enhancer back in his fighting days, the drug still gave him long-lasting effects. The fact that Helmet had injected himself with a large dosage of the drug at once gave Aoki an idea. If she could just override Helmet and push him to his limit, the drugs may have a negative effect on him. She just needed to anger him enough.

Aoki dodged another attack, jumping up onto the board once more, the corner of her lips turned upwards in a mocking smirk as she stared into Helmet's bright green eyes.

"You know, I've dealt with drunken patrons who were much quicker than you." She bounced off the board right as he attempted to grab at her. A low growl came from Helmet as he turned to face Aoki once more. "Maybe you should lay off the steroids for a while, tough guy." She ended with a sarcastic tone, preparing for the man to charge at her again.

Helmet rushed towards her in a blind rage, this time extending his arm to grab at her leg. Aoki was slammed into the floor, the wind knocked out of her momentarily as she was being dragged towards Helmet. She raised her hand and shot a ball of white ki, aimed for his arm. Helmet released his grasp on Aoki's leg and she took the moment to scramble away, glancing back at Helmet.

He gripped the gaping wound on his arm, the blood seeping out of the injury was a deep emerald color, indicating the drug had taken full control of his bloodstream. Even though his arm was now severely injured, Helmet was still able to clutch the spiked board and continue the fight as though he had never been hit. Aoki huffed, pushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. She needed to keep throwing all her ki energy at his limbs and also focus on not getting crushed. She couldn't rely on her judo techniques anymore since her normal punches seem to have zero effect on him unlike before. It would leave her feeling exhausted, but it would be worth it in the end.

She readied herself, preparing another ki orb within her hands. Just a couple more times and then she could finally move from Helmet and be more helpful in the fight with the newcomers.

 

[sprouhtt]

Name: Ayumi Akashiro
Race: Human
Aura: Gold
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District. (Inside)
Tagging: The Black Knight (Koizumi Akashiro)

Ayumi was up in her room when she was done bathing. Last night almost killed her, she went out and she had come across one of the deathstalkers members who was causing trouble. Of course, she snuck out and deceived her uncle, but she couldn't help it. Ayumi hated when he would not help her practice/train. But he did have his reasons, after all, she was his dead brother's kid, his only kid in fact. He didn’t want her to meet her father so soon in heaven. Ayumi went out to buy groceries, usually, they pay a boy to run to the market and get them what they needed since Akashiro doesn’t like sending Ayumi to the market alone. He would go with her, but someone has to watch the restaurant. Ever since the streets around here have been getting tougher and tougher the last trip the boy made to the market he got mugged. Ayumi didn’t want something else happening to the boy so she brought it upon herself to go and fetch groceries for the restaurant. Ayumi when going out always carries her daggers strapped on her thigh, just below the fingertips, in order to grab it more quickly.

Ayumi had heard a lot of commotion and people running past her, some bumping into her. Ayumi didn't necessarily care what they were running for, nothing excited goes on around these parts of town, except for when local businesses get visits from gangs. Ayumi saw that people were still heading in the direction that she was until she saw a huge gathering outside of the Akashiro Restaurant, which is her uncles. What now? Can't these people give us a break, don't they have anything better to do with their lives? Ayumi questioned to herself as she ran her hand through her hair. Ayumi had a satchel that was strapped across her body, she put the vegetables that she got from the market into the satchel and began walking quickly towards the restaurant. Ayumi knew there was no way of going through this heavy crowd, so she thought her best option was to enter the shop from the back.

Ayumi ruffled through her satchel to find the key that opened the back door when she finally found it, she quickly opened it up and closed it right behind her, locking it back up again. When Ayumi put the satchel with all the groceries down on the counter in the kitchen, she made her way through and saw what a mess the restaurant was turned into. Great, now I'm going to have to clean this whole entire mess up again. God, I wish I could teach these dumbass's a lesson. Ayumi's eyes widened when she saw that it was the Deathstalker members who were doing this, she groaned and shook her head. For some reason, Ayumi did fear them when she first heard of them, but now she has grown old of their tactics because it's getting old and making them look messy as hell.

Ayumi ran her hand through her hair once more before she took herself to where her uncle was. "Oji-san, it's happening again isn't it?" She spoke loud enough for him to hear. The people who come to help 'protect' the restaurant is doing a good job at fighting, but a terrific job at wrecking the restaurant too. "You know, this wouldn't happen if you taught a certain someone --" ...She points to herself... and then continues, "--how to fight like you." Ayumi said to her uncle as she put her hand on her hip as she watched people get thrown around both inside and outside. Ayumi knows its not their fault that they get thrown into the restaurant, or a chair or table or even a refrigerator, but the least they could do is point the fight in another direction. But it was kind of them to put themselves first, which is why whenever someone gets injured after helping her and her uncle out, she tries to patch up their wounds and injuries.

 

[Ginko The Mushishi]

Name: Zheng Luang
Race: Human
Aura: Phoenix Fire Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025.
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District. (When the hat comes off, the gloves deteriorated)
Tagging: The Black Knight Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi Zamasu _Line 213 Fearmonger iijora Xale Elekta Kount Elenion Aura

The fight was truly about to begin now. PB and Lu clashed, both sending out heavy punches and kicks towards one another, the other would block whenever they got the chance, but they would also body the blow if need be. Lu was focused on PB, but PB smirked knowing who was behind Lu, ready to jump into the fight and give a helping hand. It was last second before Lu noticed someone behind him, but it was too late. He was in the arm lock, and Lu yelped out in pain, with desperation Lu tried to shift Fujio off of him, tried his hardest to keep himself off of being captured.

PB took this chance to wail on Lu, in his attempts to move Fujio away he began a barrage of punches against Lu's chest and stomach. Lu tensed himself, trying his best to keep the blows from destroying him. Fujio was getting a better hold now, he would soon enough have Lu in an unbreakable hold. "Grrh...To hell with you...you smell like cigarettes!" He said to Fujio in-between thin breathes, keeping his core as solid as possible from the punches.

Fujio grinned, he almost had Lu to the floor as well, he could feel his legs buckling, and when he got Lu on the floor then it was over. "Yeah, I know I do. I'll make sure to dump some of my ash from a newly lit cigarette on your corpse.." He laughed. "What's up with the dumb hat huh? Why not let me see your face so when I'm done beating you to death I can burn a nice spot against your face.."

Lu's eyes narrowed.. "Don't...Touch my hat!.." As he said so, he became more aggressive with breaking free. Enough to slam his head back into Fujio's face, with Fujio letting go, and reeling back from the bash, Lu tried to kick PB and stop his endless punches, it proved fruitful, as his kick halted PB's attacks. Although this didn't stop PB in the end, he grabbed Lu's leg and slammed him down to the floor. "Take off his hat.." PB told Fujio, who kicked Lu's face after regaining composure. By doing that, Lu's hat flew off. Laughing together, Fujio and PB taunted Lu about his hat, while Fujio lit a cigarette..Walking slowly towards the hat. "This dumb thing that important to you?" He took his newly lit cigarette, and pressed it against the fabric of the hat. Burning a nice hole into it.

This, was the worst thing anyone could have possibly done.. Lu stood up, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I'm going to end the both of you..Now. No more damage to the restaurant..No more fooling around...I'm ending this." Lu said, before sliding one foot outwards, and his arms neatly push and pull much like the waves of an ocean.

3 Opened Heavenly Gates.

PB scoffed, crushing the hat under his shoe. "You won't be doing anything..WE end it when WE want to. Got it?" PB was met with a swift punch, straight through the chest, but Lu spared no time for his recovery as he drove his palm up towards PB's chin. PB was able to scrape by the rising palm, and Fujio threw out a roundhouse kick towards Lu. Successfully blocking the blow, Lu grabbed Fujio's leg. "Bad idea.." Lu spoke, jerking Fujio off the ground and slamming him right into PB, but Lu wasn't finished with Fujio either as he lifted Fujio up and then slammed him to the ground, head-first. For good measure, Lu kicked Fujio all the way into the back of the restaurant. Out of commission now, Fujio simply lay limp against the floor.

Now the battle began, Lu and PB. Both were adept at keeping each other on their toes, Lu though was gaining the upper hand, and fast. His silent fury driving him to continue pushing PB into a corner with each attack thrown. PB went low, throwing a gut punch at Lu who coughed as the blow connected, but stood firm. Grabbing PB's arm and keeping it firmly against his gut, Lu stared down at PB. "I'm gonna knock your pretty face in.."

PB tch'd. Trying his best to break from Lu's hold, which was solid. "Let go of me you bastard, why the hell is your grip so strong!? What the hell is wrong with yo-" A punch, so strong, that it stopped PB from talking entirely, he could feel the force drive into his cheek, as if a drill was grinding through. PB panicked, his face...HIS FACE WAS HIT!! Lu pressed harder, pushing his fist against PB's cheek as much as possible, until PB was pushed away from the force of the blow... Clutching his beautiful face...PB spat out blood, and...A few teeth to go with it?! HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED!? "M-MY FACE!!! YOU...YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!" PB screamed, throwing himself at Lu, and clashing once more with him. Now both of them were on equal terms again, both of their anger feuling their instincts and reflexes.

Spoiler: Serious Lu Battle Music.

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

Name: Alexander Matte
Race: Human
Aura: Light Green
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Pseudo Healing, Goraku District
Tagging: Open

"Mrs. Albertson, you are aware that you don't have to come to me every time your arthritis acts up" Alex said chuckling softly as he gently held the elderly woman's hand with his own, gently placing needles at specific points with the other, "There are a large quantity of medicinal shops nearby, some specifically tailored to this particular ailment"

"Oh dear, I know that, but I don't have much money and your treatments are just as good or even more effective" she patted him on the cheek with her free hand "Besides, I was in the neighborhood getting a gift for my grandson, he's been hinting at it all month" she laughed softly. Surprisingly, the hand he was holding didn't move at all, his grip on her wrist prevented any unnecessary movement and yet it caused no discomfort.

He'd long opened this small shop in Goraku District. The location was perfect, a little out of the way but easily noticed. As a tourist centric location, the District had many people spending their day walking around in need of adjustments or some form of pain relief. He'd named the shop Pseudo Healing in honor of the fact that much of his practice was only considered a Pseudo science by many. He made enough to pay rent on his building and home. Many of his patients were those like Mrs. Albertson. The elderly and those with very little money to spend. Often enough he got those who had carpal tunnel syndrome or a sprained wrist.

Alex even got the occasional Martial Artist. He didn't really ask questions about how someone had become injured, that was commonplace enough. He just fixed them up and accepted whatever payment they could offer. He liked helping the honorable ones the most. They always offered him some sort of favor and he could always find a use for a favor to be used.

Ultimately, he just enjoyed talking to people like the lovely old lady in front of him. There wasn't much going on in their lives but they had a wealth of experience to share and often had amusing stories to tell about their children and grandchildren. He'd noticed that the elderly were less coy and shy about talking about embarrassing moments in their lives. To them, it was simply something to laugh about.

 

[The Black Knight]

Name: Musa Azuma
Race: Human
Aura: White (Currently)
Date/Time: January 1, 2025, 12:15 PM
Location: Subway to Konton Apartment Complex
Tagging: Open

Musa had sunk into a slumber deeper than he had intended. The hundreds of macronutrients packed away inside him had put him in a food coma. His tall frame was stretched across the metro seat. One hand was resting on his stomach that had shockingly receded from its earlier round and protruding state. His hood cast a shadow over his eyes to veil them from the bright, overhead lamps. His lips were parted as a soft snore left them along with a stream of drool that descended down the left side of his cheek. His left arm was extended over his moped, his hand clutching the edge of the seat possessively.

The remaining stops carried passengers into the depths of the Underworld—the Kinrin District. The car was empty by the time it reached anywhere near such a dark place. The only ones present on the subway were either residents of the district or bold, stupid tourists. A thug wearing a baseball cap and hoodie had been huddled in the corner of the subway car with his hands tucked in the pockets of his sweater. He had been eying the yellow moped, and his mind was running estimates. How much would he get if he stole it and turned it in for scrap? He glanced over at the owner who was clutching it. He had been watching him for twenty minutes, and he never once saw him move.

He’s out like a light, the thug mused. He glanced up at the metro map. The next stop was coming up. The subway came before the platform and started to silently slow. Now’s my chance!

Timing it right, the thug leaned forward in his chair and as soon as the subway chimed with a bing, he broke into a dash for the yellow moped. His hands latched onto the handlebars and his body twisted around toward the subway doors that slid open. He took one step, his foot never making it to the floor as he suddenly felt his arms go taut in resistance. The thug’s eyes widened. “What the hell?!” he exclaimed in his panic. His head snapped around to see the sleeping man still clinging to his bike. The thug whirled, facing the moped, and started to jerk wildly, making the sleeping man’s arm waggle about, but he couldn’t break his grip. Raising his foot, he began wildly stomping his fingers. “Come on damn it! Come on!”

He was at his stop, and he feared the doors were about to close.

Baka…

The thug froze, his eyes white as he watched the sleeping man slowly sit up like a zombie. Musa’s teeth parted and his mouth opened wide to expel a deep yawn. With one strong tug, he jerked the thug and his moped closer to him. The thug fell over the handlebars to faceplant into the seat. Before he could recover, a great weight suddenly was bearing down on his skull.

“Ah! What the-!” the thug grasped what he felt to be an ass. Red veins cracked across the white sclera of his eyes as he realized the once-sleeping man was now sitting on him. “Get off me man!”

The subway beeped and the doors closed. The thug exclaimed, “That was my stop!”

Musa was rubbing the crust of dried drool from the side of his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve. “Was your stop.”

“Get off my head! You’re crushing me!”

“You tried to steal from me. You tried to steal my only way of getting around this shit city, so I don’t have to ride the subway and see your ugly mug.”

“Screw you pal! A guy’s gotta eat!”

“Now you’re just pissin’ me off. You think you’re the only one struggling in this dump? I think you owe me some money.”

“What?! How? I don’t even know you man!”

“You’re paying for your life. Sittin’ on your head is a bomb just waitin’ to go off. I had a lot of garlic earlier. A lot of fish; a lot of meat; and a lot of eggs. I think at point blank your face will melt right off.”

The thug blinked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Are…are you threatening to fart on me?”

“Bingo, bucko. So unless you want to smell like an expired milk carton filled with spoiled spinach and rotten eggs, you’re gonna give me all you’ve got.”

“To hell with you!”

Musa turned half-lidded blue eyes over his shoulder. He peered down at the stubborn thug and uttered a single suppressed laugh. “Hmph; it’s a win-win deal for me either way.”

Kinrin District

The subway doors opened and Musa emerged from a brownish-green cloud of funk. Over his left shoulder was his moped and in his right hand, he was holding the thug’s credit card. The thug was on the floor of the subway, arms and legs curled up like a dead roach. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head and his lungs were barely filling with the contaminated air. He couldn’t breathe! The airspace was so putrid. The doors closed behind the fighter and Musa tucked the card away inside the inner pocket of his jacket.

It was thugs like that that Musa didn’t have a drop of sympathy for. Sympathy was a rare emotion for the convict—perhaps a forgotten one. Over the years, such an emotion didn’t exist. It was fight or be beaten. Win or gain nothing and lose everything—one’s pride and dignity. Prison was a hell worse than anything the Kinrin District had to offer for anything it could have offered to top it was in prison. The Great Crab Bucket. How did he manage to make bail?

Musa walked through streets where kids played jump rope, druggies huddled in packs in the alleys, and prostitutes stalked the sidewalks.

“Wanna have a good time?” one called to the fighter who passed her by as though she didn’t exist. “Screw you then!”

As Musa continued down the street, there was one apartment on the corner of Brawler and Punch street. A flat screen television set crashed through the window of the upper floors to smash in the middle of the street. An angry couple roared their hatred for each other, a kid was playing on one of the balconies unsupervised, and black smoke seeped from one of the windows as a smoke detector shrieked. The chaos and disorder marked the Konton Apartment Complex.

That was my TV you bitch!

Screw you! I saw you with that slut on the corner! If you want her so bad you can get the hell outta my apartment!

YOUR APARTMENT?!

Musa ascended the cracked concrete steps of the entrance and opened the door as it started to rain makeup and brushes behind him.

THOSE ARE MINE YOU ASS!

He closed the door and stopped on the welcome mat. His eyes slowly rolled over to the landlord’s office. The door was closed, no one was at the front desk, and so that meant the old bat was probably asleep. Musa tiptoed passed her office and punched the button on the elevator.

Come on, he anxiously thought.

The elevator binged and the doors opened. Musa stepped inside, hit the “close” button and sighed in relief. Today was going to be a good day. The lights in the elevator started to flicker. Musa glanced up at the light bulb curiously until it winked out, bathing the car in darkness. After three seconds, the lights flashed back on and standing next to Musa was a small, three-foot old lady. Her arms were folded behind her in the small of her back. Her gray hair was pulled back into a bun and a pleasant smile was on her lips. Musa was staring at the floor counter as each floor lit up, when he suddenly noticed the reflection of someone off the steel-sheen of the elevator doors. The fighter’s face paled and a startled breath was sucked into his throat.

“Hello Azuma-kun. Do you have this poor old lady’s rent?” she asked softly.

The elevator binged! and immediately Musa dropped his moped with a clatter in the hallway and broke into a sprint. The old lady followed swiftly behind him. Her arms raised into the air as the yellow sleeves of her robe flagged. Her feet moved in a blur and she rapidly hopped to the left wall before she rebounded off of it to the right. Her body twisted acrobatically in the air, her robes swirling like ribbons. She rebounded off the right wall, backflipping over Musa’s head. As she unraveled from her tucked position, Musa’s eyes widened to see her smiling face before him and her tiny foot extended for his chin. It appeared to be one touch of her toe against his chin, but a great power snapped Musa’s head upwards. Spittle left his lips as a harsh gale sent his body crashing through the ceiling, and then through the floor of the angry couple’s room. Musa landed on the carpet in the middle of the living room, and in the middle of the couple’s tantrum.

The couple stopped to stare at the stranger that had suddenly appeared and put a hole in their floor. The husband immediately glared at his wife and pointed at Musa. “Who the hell is this?! One of your boyfriends?”

“I ain’t seen him before in my life! You can’t just see some random man and accuse him of havin’ anything to do with me!”

“You do it with me and the hos on the corner!”

“Because I’ve seen you with them!”

“You lying skank!”

Musa shuddered and groan. His hand went to grasp his chin as he gave it a soothing rub. That little bitch, he thought.

Oh, Azuma-kun~

The baa-chan’s voice sounding musically from the hole in the floor immediately had Musa rising to his feet. He raised his arms just in time for the gray blur to emerge from the hole and plant her foot against his forearms. It was another powerful strike that blew his guard apart and sent him flying backwards passed the angry couple and through their wall into the neighbor’s room. As his back shattered the wall, Musa stumbled backwards trying to regain his footing. Plaster shards slid beneath his feet and dust powdered his eyes as he coughed. Before he could collapse onto his back, his body suspended itself. He appeared to be levitating off the floor, but beneath him on her back and holding him up with her tiny feet was the landlord.

“Azuma-kun, you know you can’t run from Haruko,” she told him.

Holding out his arms to control his balance, Musa bore his teeth in a wince. “I-I have it all right!”

“Oh? Why didn’t you say so?” Baa-chan kicked Musa off her feet.

The fighter used the spring to land upright. There was a child-like scowl on his face. He was hoping to save the credit card he had procured. As he reached into his inner jacket pocket, Baa-chan giggled, “You seemed heavier than normal Azuma-kun. You’re getting fat. Or maybe you went and spent my rent money at some fancy restaurant, hmm?”

Musa blushed. He faced the old woman, holding the red credit card out to her. “It was a buffet and it was only 11.95. It was nowhere near as expensive as your lousy rent.”

Baa-chan snatched the credit card from his hand and removed a small handheld machine from her inner robes. Musa’s lips sank in disturbance. He didn’t want to know where she kept it. Her breasts weren’t exactly as perky as they used to be. Pancakes randomly appeared in his mind, making him grimace even more at the comparison. Baa-chan swiped the card through the machine and waited patiently. After a moment, the balance flashed in red upon the screen. 5.50 credits. Musa’s mouth fell open.

Baa-chan looked up at him with her usual smile, which wouldn’t have been creepy to anyone who was meeting her for the first time. After a while, they learned that she always looked like that and that her smile had hidden meanings. “Well now, this doesn’t even buy you an extra night here.”

“What!? You’re throwing me out?” he exclaimed.

“I’ll keep that moped too. It’ll pay off some of your debt.”

“But Baa-chan, where am I supposed to sleep? I can’t pay you back if I don’t got a place to rest my head.”

Baa-chan marched over and prodded Musa’s knee. “You should have thought about that before you racked up so much debt. Don’t think you don’t owe me anymore either. I’ll find you Azuma. There isn’t a crack on this earth that you could hide in. I’ll find ya!” She then lowered her finger and walked by, waving at him dismissively. “I’ll allow you to at least take a shower before you hit the street. You stink! When you’re done, you better come down stairs and turn in your key.”

A darkness settled over Musa’s eyes as a frown weighed on his lips. What a pain in the ass. He had a flat tire, he was evicted, and now his only possession besides the clothes on his back was taken. It was a shitty day. He had to find any way he could to pay off his debt, and in Kinrin, there was only one expedient way. He had to fight.

 

[_Line 213]

Name: Aline Romani
Race: Human
Aura: ???
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: The Black Knight , Ginko The Mushishi , Nenma Takashi , Zamasu , Fearmonger


Deep breaths, Aline.

What she'd give for her headphones at a time like this. At least, then, even if she knew what was going on around her, she could at least retreat into the depths of her mind. It was a place only as safe as her surroundings, yet it was a place of peace all the same, and the only place for miles around that would stop her racing heart.

The appearance of another figure--a friendly one, if their relation to the elder was anything to go on--was a mild comfort, though not enough to completely still the foreigner's quaking nerves. She didn't even have it in her to be curious when the woman mentioned something about learning how to fight; to her apprehension-addled mind, idle conversation barely had the ability to register. The sound of battle washed over it all, drowning out every other point of focus as violence mixed with violence. The soundscape of bloodshed had long since formed a dark counterpoint to the music Aline so often filled her head with. Years, years of using song and dance to keep her away from the ugliness of the world suddenly seemed to be made up for in that one moment, as if a treasured house of cards had all come crashing down before the girl could even parse its collapse.

Her hands clenched. She couldn't take it anymore.

If she couldn't help, then she had to force it all out of her mind. Her phone and headphones had fallen when she was struck, and the fear of that earlier blow kept her firmly pinned behind the bar. Slowly, she pushed herself up and over the top, hoping that she could catch a glimpse of her belongings; even if forging a path to them was not possible, knowledge as to their intactness could have been a comfort in and of itself--if what she saw was in her favor.

And yet, her eyes did not lock on to her things. Instead, they widened, shock forcing her to soak in the brutality before her.

One of the defenders had viciously changed, blood belonging to what may have been both fighter and opponent intermingling on her clothes and on her body. Her eyes screamed death even without words, and the horrifying, repeated, animalistic beating she gave to her target spoke volumes on her intent, all but writing the will to kill on the sole of her shoe.

She's going to die, thought Aline, her mind immediately flashing back to what she had heard and tried not to see during her attempt at entering the establishment. Why should this have mattered to her? It was their side, after all, that had harmed her, that started it all, that would kill, maim, and break without so much as a second thought.

So why did it feel so wrong?

The girl remained frozen; no matter how badly her heart wanted to cry out, run forward and stop the scene before her, her mind held her locked in place, a scared statue, lifeless if not for her fear. Hot, fresh tears trailing down her face were the only things she could now feel, the rest of her shut-down body nearly devoid of sensation as dull pain mingled with the numbness of her horror.

Why can't I move?! She's going to die!

 

[The Black Knight]

Name: Koizumi Akashiro
Race: Human
Aura: Red
Date/Time: January 1, 2025, 12:15 PM
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District.
Tagging: Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi iijora Zamasu Elenion Aura Fearmonger _Line 213 Ginko The Mushishi Xale

From left to right: Akinari; Fujio; Hideki; Chikao; and Helmet

Spoiler: Deathstalker Theme

• Akinari (Red Terror): He is boyish and excitable as well as the most destructive. He is like a child in a china shop, and will happily wreck any establishment or property he is ordered to. Preferred Weapon: Fists wrapped in steel chain.
• Fujio (Ash Tray): He didn’t just receive his nickname because he smells like secondhand smoke all the time, but he likes to beat his enemies to near-death and then twist out his cigarette on their faces. Preferred Weapon: Fists. He sometimes uses his cigarette as a distraction, stabbing it into his enemy’s eyes or flicking ash into their face.
• Hideki (Leader): He runs the clown show. No one really knows what happened to his left eye. He probably lost it in a fight or as punishment. Preferred Weapon: Hidden wakizashis up his sleeves.
• Chikao (Quiet): The quiet types are usually the worst ones. Chikao actually is a quiet sadist who likes to cut his enemies. He will cut them to death rather than outright kill them just so he can see them bleed. Preferred Weapon: Knives. He has them all beneath his robes, and he has plenty to not only cut with but throw.
• Helmet (Batter): Not even his fellow peers know anything about him. He is some dude who likes to wear his motorcycle helmet and won’t ever take it off. There have been whispers that something happened to his face, making him hideous to look at. The last guy who tried to take his helmet off got a spiked bat to the skull. Preferred Weapon: Spiked Bat; he also uses PEDs.

From left to right: Fedora, Neiiji, Jesus, Pretty Boy, and Tensai.​

• Fedora (Copy Cat): Her perception level is superhuman. She has the ability to learn her opponent’s movements, improvise them, and use them against them. Solo, she is impossible to take down. She is a quiet one and never speaks. Preferred Weapon: Knuckledusters.
• Neiji (GM-NPC/Leader): He is the leader of this gang and despite having many rivals within his own Deathstalker group, the other gangs cannot deny that Neiji is a frightening fighter. Not much is known about him, but those who have seen him fight show him nothing but respect. Preferred Weapon: Unknown
• Jesus (Deadman): He doesn’t fight. Why fight when there are others to fight for him? Literally. He uses his ki to resurrect fallen fighters, and they will do his bidding. They will protect him fiercely making it almost impossible for anyone to lay a finger on him. Preferred Weapon: Downed fighters.
• Pretty Boy: Everyone has called him “Pretty Boy” for the longest time that they don’t even know his real name anymore. Behind those shades is a man…or a woman…what? His androgynous features make his gender hard to distinguish. He is very vain, but supposedly, no one has ever managed to damage his moneymaker (his face). They say Pretty Boy can enter a fight with multiple opponents and still emerge beautiful. Thus the name. Preferred Weapon: His vanity and a steel comb that acts as a knife.
• Tensai: The nerd is a genius. Like Fedora, he will study his enemy’s movements and knows exactly how to penetrate their guard. He will bob and weave, lean and dip, and make his hits count in the most sensitive of places. He uses pressure point techniques, and if he wants to, just for fun, he’ll use his skull-shaped bo staff to break bones. Preferred Weapon: Brain and bone staff.

Neiji swung Juro through the overhang above the door. Wood and plaster burst into the restaurant as Juro was mercilessly slammed upon the wooden floor of the establishment. Neiji released his legs and dropped to a knee overtop of the kid and sent his fist hammering into his face. He punched Juro with fists that released mild explosive flashes of ki until his knuckles were soaked and the kid wasn’t moving anymore. The teal-haired fighter stood and gazed down at the boy insensitively. If Neiji was the talkative type, he would have said his thoughts aloud. A fighter who is trying to sneak attack another fighter shouldn’t announce their attack beforehand.

Hideki’s hand lowered from his head and slipped into the sleeve of his jacket to draw a second wakizashi. He was a swordsman and not a fist fighter. They were hardly on even footing. “Big talk for a coward. You’re not breaking this one this time,” he growled at Kenji.

JV had fled the fight after seeing Juro get slammed through a wall by Neiji. He wasn’t ready to deal with such power, and besides, there were enough heroes present!

Jesus smirked at Kuron. “You ain’t done, hombre.”

Akinari brought his knees to his chest and kicked his legs out to whip his body back onto his feet. A large grin expanded on his face as he gazed upon Kuron with his blazing green eyes. He charged the android to engage him again. Jesus’s smirk dropped from his face as he stepped back away from the outdoor fight and over toward the restaurant where the broken windows were. The presence of an android was unsettling. First, he had never seen a service droid so sophisticated. Was he AIB? And then two, it was an android. He was going to need more punishment. He met Neiji at the window:

“’Ey boss, there’s a bot here. You think he’s AIB?”

Neiji gazed upon Kuron and he saw the strips of flesh that hung from his metal arms. “I’ll handle it,” he told Jesus. He grasped the windowsill and vaulted over it. He then motioned with his head into the restaurant, “I took one down at the door.”

Jesus smiled at the prospect of another puppet. “Gracias, boss.”

Meanwhile, Akashiro was dealing with an undead lunatic who had knives clenched between his fingers. He wanted to harm Cherie, and while she was unconscious, she couldn’t defend herself. Addison appeared to be disturbed by Chikao’s resurrection—they all were. It shouldn’t have been possible. At the moment, as much as he wanted to coddle Aline and tell her that everything was going to be all right, it wasn’t.

“I hope you’re ready kid,” Akashrio told Addison.

Addison extended his arms and a bronze ki passed down them to his fingers. His hands clenched what molded out of his ki to be a shield and sarissa. The bronze ki expanded in a shield before him and lengthened into the spear that he held parallel to the floor. Addison bent his knees, lowering his stance slightly to turn his body behind the full protection of his shield. Chikao’s knives started to rapidly clang off the ki shield, the energy flashing with each impact. Drawing back the spear, Addison thrust it forth with a shout, impaling Chikao’s sternum and going so far as to raise him off the floor. Baring his teeth, more from the strain of keeping his energy materialized, Addison continued to hold the thug so that he wasn’t a problem for the others.

“I don’t know how long I can hold him,” Addison voiced his struggle.

Akashiro was impressed by Addison’s use of his ki. Ki construction was not a common trait among fighters. “Hold him as long as you can!” Akashiro yelled.

He then looked to the other fighters. Joanna was looking no better than her girlfriend. Fedora had already pushed her to her limit it seemed. It appeared that while engrossed in her rage, Joanna had the upper-hand. Akashiro glanced down at Aline who appeared to be in shock. She was petrified by Joanna’s bloodlust, and he watched as hot tears tumbled down her cheeks. Did she cry for a Deathstalker? She was a merciful one, and that compassion would make her a respectable fighter.

“Look closely. The battle is not what it appears,” Akashiro instructed Aline. “Watch and feel not with your hands; not with your mind; with your soul. Concentrate and know that you should see something. When you see a color appear around a person, then you are seeing their ki. Their ki is the energy of the spirit.”

Joanna’s violent ki was large like a bonfire, but Fedora’s yellow ki was larger and much more controlled. Joanna had become cocky and lost in her anger to not see Fedora’s deception.

“That’s why your father was number two,” Akashiro told Joanna

Fedora’s praying hands clapped upon the floor, lifting her lower-half off the floor. Her left leg swung around in a windmill, and she used the momentum to throw herself at Joanna. Her body became a tornado, crackling with electricity whirling just as fast as Joanna’s tenraisenpukyaku. Her tornado of kicks carried Joanna into the air, each kick sending an electrical shock throughout her body until her left foot lowered upon the floor. She didn’t allow Joanna to even fall to the ground or recover before her fists became a blur of rapid punches that bombarded her body with the bone-shattering power of her knuckledusters.

Akashiro’s right eye twitched some when he saw Joanna go down. If she hadn’t had such an inflated ego, she might have seen through Fedora’s silent ruse. He surveyed the restaurant again, and an irritable veined pulsed on his forehead before he started shouting at those fighters (indoors) who were still conscious: “WILL YOU WORK TOGETHER ALREADY? WHAT’S THE POINT OF TRYING TO SAVE MY RESTAURANT WHEN YOU’RE GETTING YOUR ASSES KICKED!?”

Oji-san, it’s happening again isn’t it?

Akashiro felt a startled shiver travel from his tailbone up to his head at the sweet voice of his niece. He grasped the wheels of his chair and turned around to face her. He raised his hands and opened his mouth in a poor attempt to…deny what? The raging hulk; the green-eyed dead man impaled on a spear; the bodies of the unconscious fighters all over the place; the damages to the restaurant so far…? Lowering his hands, a sweat drop descended down the side of his head.

You know, this wouldn’t happen if you taught a certain someone…

Akashiro’s eyes narrowed at her in complete disbelief. “This would still happen and teaching you how to fight would only make you even more of a target. Everyone would want to fight Akashiro’s niece. If you want to help, look after these two.” He pointed at Aline and Cherie, and then he remembered Joanna. “…And her.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to get to Joanna just yet. Fedora hovered the girl almost spitefully like a lioness defending her kill.

GM Note: You've lost some fighters (mostly due to one drop out and inactivity)! Help your buddies who are struggling! Main Goal: Restaurant's survival and now everyone's survival.

 

[Rhino Schneider]

Name: Dean McShire
Race: Human
Aura: Yellow
Date/Time: January 1, 2025/ Start 12:00 ending at 12:30
Location: The Pits, Kinrin District
Tagging: Open
"You know what time is it!" The announcer's voice boomed through the Pit's signaling that the fights were open for the day and what a surprise that Dean is better known as 'The Pit Boss' around these parts was already ready and waiting. The sweet smell of blood and sweat filled the air and it was a scent that Dean was all too familiar with since half of it may as well be his. The Pits waiting room was just a huge room filled to the brim with fighters some martially trained others just street fighters who want to try and prove there strength which usually ends badly for them. The different attitudes were obvious they were the cocky ones the ones acting all big and hard which no doubt were mostly the street fighters. They were the quiet ones sticking to them self and they were them like Dean himself away from people getting a few last minute training sessions into which the more cocky ones took as a sign of weakness.

"And today we have a special treat today it seems after a whole two days the man himself The Pit Boss has graced us with his presence once again." To say the least, around the pits Dean was well known not only from being a resident but being a hell of a pit fighter and having been one for the past seven years he had built up quite the reputation among the veterans and spectators. Dean was slightly confused by this proven by him looking around it was then that it occurred to him as all the others fighters eyes were on him it was his seventh year on the dot of fighting in the pits which meant one thing before Dean could finish that thought the announcer's voice boomed once more. "He's been around for seven years and you know what that means." The announcer's voice stopped ringing as the crowd filled in the blanks. "Hazing hazing hazing!" and there it was the words Dean had almost forgotten about the Hazing before you become a veteran.

Dean hated the hazing more for the fact that he had to show outstanding strength towards anyone that entered the ring and couldn't do what he usually like to do in the pit. To say the least, Dean's a strange pit fighter unlike many who went to just fight and earn money Dean had an underlining motivation for going. He enjoyed teaching the rookies of the pit and the rookies of fighting the ropes. Usually while fighting Dean will tell his opponents their faults, he only does this to untrained fighters and would never dream of doing it to a martial artist as he would find it disrespectful. During the hazing doing this would take up too much energy which meant it wasn't something he was willing to do and as such he decided he would keep his mouth shut throughout the event.

"Your damn right its hazing time, but today we have something a little different than a usual hazing." The silence hit both the fighters and the spectators like a ton of bricks and the near-silent whispering was strange and eerie. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the silence was broken. "The Pit Boss Dean Mcshire you are going to fight in an accumulator fight so the longer you last the harder it gets but the better the prize at the end is. Beat round two and you've passed." The silence of the fighters and spectators was quickly broken as the match really wasn't much different from a usually one just possibly a lot harder.

"So come on down here the pit boss and let's get this thing started." As the announcer stopped talking the sound of the crowd cheering picked up as Dean made his way to the ring and entered it. "And his first opponent a new fighter to the Pits the Brawler from Buckingham Danny Carter." The announcer's voice stopped waiting for this Danny to come down to the ring and to say the least he didn't look like he was from Buckingham. At 5'8, about 140 pounds wet all over, and about eighteen, in fact, this Danny looked just like everyone else did that was born and raised in Kinrin which made Dean believe that the alias he was using was just to try and make him sound more interesting. "You both know what to do. Let the fight begin."

Round 1 Fighter
'The Brawler from Buckingham'
Danny Carter
​

• A rookie fighter who decided to try and make it big in the pits. A Street Fighter at heart with no formal training and the type of person that most gangs use as 'cannon fodder'. His only uses his fists to fight and has no special move or techniques.​

​

As the announcer announced that the fight should begin neither of the pair moved Dean was hoping his opponent would come to him and save Dean the trouble but alas that didn't seem like it would be the case. Dean stared down Danny for a good few seconds before Dean's hands rose into his usual stance and he placed his left foot farther in front of the right foot, thus having his 'weaker' side closer to the opponent. Unlike many boxers, at this point, Dean's hands were much lower, his arms by his side leaving his body unguarded and his knees were slightly bent, lowering their center of gravity and hence increasing their potential punching power. This was something he did often when testing out people he hasn't seen fight since he decides that seeing how they deal with a pure offense is the best way to test someone's capabilities.

Dean was the first one to move using his quick step he got in striking distance of his opponent now was time for the match to really begin. Dean stopped outside his usual range deciding that he wanted to out-fight for this first match he decided he didn't want to risk injury to close to the start. His hands raised to a usual boxing stance clearly showing this fact even more and that's when it happened his left's began raining down like a barrage of gunfire. Over and over seemingly to no response, every dodge attempt his opponent had simply was caught with a fist. To the untrained eye of much of the crowd these seemed like simple jabs but to the trained eye they would see that it wasn't the case, in fact these jabs would look motionless to an opponent, to them they would just look like the fist got bigger out of nowhere with no telling sign that it was coming. This was done by lining up his shoulder and his fists with his opponent's eyes.

The fists kept rolling and the crowds cheering got louder and louder. The motionless jab poured down for about thirty seconds and it clearly had the intended effect to install fear and damage the opponent. With no way for Danny to counter with his unfamiliarity with Dean's attack, his began to move more and more rapidly tiring himself out until finally, he caught a glimpse of what was going on. Dean messed up and while Danny went left Dean didn't follow him right away but his fist still did allowing Danny to catch that all Dean was doing was jabbing but it was too little too late. Dean had to agree that Danny could take a punch or thirty weak ones but he had worn him down enough to finish him off. Dean stepped into his opponent closing the gap once more into his real fighting position.

As Dean inched closer he did so at a bad time it was just as his opponent had gained his second wind and he was met with a flurry of untrained blows. It was clear from this exchange that his opponent couldn't even be called a martial artist and was at best a street fighter. Dean's guard tightened and he inched closer and closer through the blows until finally his opponent's second wind had died out and now stood a mostly exhausted man while Dean's eyes stood full of life. Dean's body twisted in a near sickening way twisting to the upper limit of his flexibility before rapidly twisting back his fist following the motion ending in a hook, but not just any hook this was Dean's "Twister Hook" a hook with more speed and power than a usual one and Dean delivered it right to his opponents ribs. What followed was a sickening crunch as bone met bone and the brawler from Buckingham went down like a sack of potatoes several of his ribs either cracked or broken from this one punch Dean could tell this guy often skipped abs day as his body was quite weak.

Dean's hands shot into the air the first round took barely five minutes and Dean was still full of energy. He got lucky to say the least that his first opponent was clearly just a warm up to get both Dean and the crowd ready. "Well that was a bit one sided let's hope the next match is a bit more interesting if The pit boss wants it of course." The announcer's voice boomed he was strangely quiet during the first match perhaps giving both sides a chance to fully concentrate. Dean's hands raised once more as in saying bring it on and in his thirty-second break he grabbed a water bottle swirled it in his mouth and spat it out before the opposing doors opened once again and this time two individual's exited. Dean's eyes quickly analyzed the two and a small drop of sweat fell from his forehead. Not because of the first individual that entered no he looked and acted very similar as Danny Carter. No, it was the second individual that gave him cause to panic slightly, he was a pit fighter quite simply known as The Monk and him and Dean had fought a very close match five years ago to which Dean had just managed to win causing The Monk to fail his 'hazing' and retire from pit fighting for the past five years but now he was back, back and determined for revenge.

.............................Round 2 Fighters
The Boy From Down Town..........................................The Monk
........Tim O'Smith............................................................???
...................................................................................​

• Tim O'Smith a relatively new fighter to the pits, like many of the pit fighters he is untrained and not particularly skilled at anything but a mediocre all-rounder. He is well known in the pits for always using brass knuckles.
• The Monk, a man surrounded in mystery who five years ago underwent the Hazing and failed due to Dean. A fighter who five years ago was a particularly skilled kicker and a skilled counter fighter but now it'll be a case of waiting and watching. The Monk's most notorious weapon was his legs.

​

"Ths time we have The Boy From Down Town, Tim O'Smith and The Monk." With that, the announcer paused causing a loud cheer from the fans who witnessed that first bout between the two and a confused look from the rest. "Those of you that don't know the history between the Pit Boss and The Monk well let's just say that their positions have twisted from last time, Dean was one of the competitors who had been entered into The Monk's Hazing and ended up coming out on top I guess The Monk's come out of retirement for revenge, not even I can wait for this one so let's get it started." The announcer's voice was quickly shut down followed up by an even louder cheer from the crowd.

As all three fighters closed the gap between each other Dean and The Monk's eyes never left each other, each one always looking for any opening between the fighters. "What you two are just going to..." Tim O'Smith clearly was not happy about the two ignoring him and as he voiced his anger at this and lowered his guard Dean took the opportunity and with his near-instant gap closer delivered one of his signatures blows to his opponent's body. Tim's body twisted at the impact lifting it off the stone floor surprising enough Dean felt some resistance even higher up as in the top half of his body was somehow fighting back. Glancing up a smirk covered Dean's face. It seemed The Monk wanted this to be a one on one and had attacked his teammate kicking him in the head the opposite direction as to what Dean punched. Tim's body twisted in place as both Dean's fist and The Monk's leg retracted their force had been the exact same and had stopped Tim's body from moving either left or right. To say the very least Tim was out of this fight.

The two active fighters move away from Tim's crumpled unconscious body and stared each other down. "What's this it seemed to two wanted a One on One match and poor Tim had suffered the consequences of that fact well I guess the real match starts now." The Announcer spoke up before quieting down once again. Dean's hands raised up and then went outstretched to which The Monk imitated and the hands of the two slowly touched it was clear this was a sign of respect it was the touching gloves action that many boxers do before a match. The pair backed up ten steps bowed another sign of respect but this time one for The Monk's martial arts now it was fighting time.

As both fighters watched and waited Dean ran countless scenarios through his head about his old fight with The Monk and each ended with the same result him trying to close those ten steps ended with him being kicked to him those ten steps may as well have been ten miles but that didn't deter Dean, not in the slightest. Dean's head for the first time in his hazing was fully tucked in his hands raised his was ready to be on the defensive for his approach. Neither moved for the next few seconds both just watched and waited and finally, Dean saw his chance his opponents eyes blinked and as they re-opened Dean was on his approach and that's when Dean could tell he was no longer fighting against the same old Monk. The second he got close to his striking distance he felt a swift hand push him in the shoulder, he didn't even see it coming it reminded him of the first time he witnesses a motionless jab, with it coming out of nowhere and suddenly hitting him.

Dean stumbled his balance being completely knocked off. While to many a one-handed push was nothing something a lot of people would just brush off that push was delivered at the perfect time during Dean's approach. Now with Dean's approach, he was always worried about someone abusing it. The way he makes it so fast is by only focusing on getting as much speed as possible out of nowhere throwing aside any sort of way to go on the offensive while approaching but more than anything without focusing on his balance this push was his worst nightmare. As Dean's approach was shattered and his balance completely off The Monk's body twisted his back leg following with it and his front leg raised and kick that followed through was delivered in an instant and extremely high powered what the Monk didn't anticipate was Dean. Dean already being off balanced took the fall he had caught the kicks wind up while trying to recover and found his only opportunity to dodge was by going down.

The Monk's leg returned to its rightful spot and as it did Dean returned to his feet, he was out of his preferred striking distance and was right in his foes, now all he hoped was that his opponent hadn't seen Dean fight recently as it was five years ago after the fight with The Monk that Dean had begun to learn how to out-fight just for opponents like this. Dean decided to try his luck one more this time at a lesser distance and with a quick step he tried to close the gap once more and unsurprising the same hand caught him and pushed him it was clear this was to stop Dean closing the gap and that The Monk was ready for it each and every time. The time Dean guessed it was coming and braced himself throwing a long hook while most of his power was taken out of the blow due to his lack of balance, it grazed his opponent but didn't do any damage it was more of a love tap showing him that if he does it too often Dean will find a way to counter it.

Dean backed off something that doesn't usually happen and when he did he switched out his guard leaving his tight guard behind and changing into a much more loose one his left hand more forward while his right hand stuck by his face, Dean was going to out-fight and wear his opponents down before going for his usual fighting style. As Dean tried to step into his striking distance he was pushed back by a front kick which was quickly followed up by a kick aimed for his head. The first kick took the wind out of Dean and pushed him back slightly but the second kick Dean saw it coming and he quickly bent his body backward dodging the kick and then Dean stepped in as The Monk was regaining his balance it was now Dean's turn to take the offensive.

The current situation felt wrong to Dean against the strong Dean loves to get right up close and personal but right now that was impossible. It was clear that over the past five years The Monk had been focusing on how to keep others at a distance but on the flip side Dean had been focusing on how to fight as an out-fighter, which hopefully Dean could use to catch The Monk off guard. Dean's hands began sending out jab after jab much like his first fight but this time the jabs were not motionless and each one got swatted down with a slap. This was the exact same scene as last time but this time the smirk was on Dean's face. Last time these jabs bearly bothered The Monk but this time he was struggling to keep up with the pace this was something Dean had worked long and hard on especially in case he ever came up against someone like The Monk again. This went on for three minutes the equivalent of a round of boxing before Dean finally felt a solid impact, the smile on Dean face widened as he stopped his normal jab and switched using a different sort of jab.

Now that he had made a breakthrough it was time to switch up what he was doing. Dean's left stopped quickly halfway towards his opponent and as The Monk readied himself for another jab aimed at the same spot it changed trajectory instead of going for the chin like it looked like it hit him on the left side of the cheek quickly another one was sent flying and the same happened again this time to the right. Each and every time a fist came out The Monk misjudged the attack and guarded the wrong spot his swatting defense didn't work as he couldn't judge where the fist would be. As the fourth fist hit him he stumbled back the consistent hits had done a small amount of damage enough to begin to have an effect. As The Monk backed up and reorganized himself he lowered himself into a much lower stance, his right leg was bent and supporting most of his weight while his left leg was put forward, his hands were put forward with the left hand in the lead facing sideways and the right towards his chest with the palm facing Dean.

Dean looked at the now crouching opponent sizing him up, this stance was troublesome as it meant that Dean had to punch downwards and now watch his own lower half for incoming attacks something he wasn't used to defending against. Dean dropped his stance his out-fighting would be useless right now, he slowly stepped up towards The Monk trying something he wasn't very good at...a kick. As he stepped forward he kicked with his left leg it was weak and slow and easily blocked by The Monk's right hand and slightly pushed back, as it was Dean leaned over a delivered a short uppercut most of its power diminished by the angle he was forced to deliver it at. His hand was caught before he hit his opponent's chin and his opponent hit back. This stance did just what Dean expected and aimed for Dean's lower half. As the Monk defended the attack The Monk's left leg came back towards his right leg and his right leg extended into an extremely low kick delivered to Dean's left calf. As The Monk's right leg came back his left extended doing the same action but to the opposite side, while the kicks themselves were low in power to many of them would do some damage. The assault to the lower half did not stop there and The Monk's right leg hooked around Dean's left foot dragging it closer to The Monk without the know-how on how to defend it Dean's leg was stretched just to where The Monk wanted it.

Everything was going downhill for Dean fast to what started well was ending badly. As Dean's leg was forced closer to The Monk's body he finally began to stand again as he did the now outstretched body of Dean was a prime target for a barrage of close ranged punches and while they weren't powerful individual the combination of between thirty and forty attacks going from his hip up to his shoulders did have an effect on Dean but it was there that The Monk finally made a mistake, despite being off balanced and with a stretched body Dean's guard had raised up to defend his face and it seemed in his onslaught of offense decided to ignore that action a costly mistake. As The Monk's hand retracted to an extended Dean was already ready for it, he was waiting for this one chance and he wasn't going to miss it. With pain shooting up Dean's left side he managed to fight past it and as The Monk's hand inched close and close to Dean's face and as it was just about to connect Dean's left hand pushed it aside leaving half of The Monk's face wide open.

It was finally here the moment Dean had been waiting for he had his own right hand free and a direct shot on The Monk's face. Dean's body twisted once again in a sickening way to the upper limit of his flexibility everyone who saw his first match could tell just what was coming. His body twisted back his hand followed with a hook action behind it this was Dean's 'Twister hook' and it was delivered directly into the opening that he had just created. The smile finally returned to Dean's face it had been a while that it had took him so long to get a good solid punch close ranged punch on an opponent. The Monk's head bounced back from the impact sending his whole body stumbling backward. Dean decided to take the chance to recover from his damage and regain some of his lost energy the barrage of punches not only hurt Dean but had emptied his lungs to the point where sticking on The Monk would be difficult.

One minute past, then another minute past until finally, the two had recovered enough to see this fight through to the end. The damage from the two's earlier attacks still lingered as Dean's left side was stinging and The Monk's balance was still off. Any martial artists in the crowd would be able to tell that it was time to end this as both the pairs aura was in full swing. As The Monk's balance was still off from the heavy blow to the head Dean decided to take this chance to push the distance using his now significantly slower step in Dean's guard tight withstood a barrage of light but fast punches his step in was once again shut down but now with the kicks out of commision Dean had no fear. Dean tucked himself fully in his guard once again and seemingly tightening it even more as he inched closer and closer until finally, his eyes lit up he was just where he wanted to be.

This fight would be a rude awakening to anyone watching showing how one small mistake could change everything the one wrong move by The Monk had changed this whole fight around and it was now in Dean's favor. Dean's body twisted and delivered a with his left heavy body blow it connected and even through The Monk's best attempt it ripped his guard apart and then followed a second fist this time from his right hand and it was an instant replay of what happened when his left. The Monk tried backing up but it was too late he was already caught in the trap and now that Dean had the energy he wasn't going to get away this time. Dean stuck to him like glue and the flurry of heavy blows that followed was enough to make him drop his guard completely, The Monk's body was a real mess but yet he was still standing and that meant Dean knew just what to do. The Monk now without a guard just needed a push to finish it and what better to finish it with that his Sunday punch the 'Double-up'. First Dean tried delivered an uppercut but suddenly The Monk's body bent backward like he had been waiting just for this combo from the start, The monk's front leg raised and with a powerful kick it struck Dean's chin but that didn't stop the second half of Dean's double-up as the overhand from Dean found it's target directly into The Monk's face and with The Monk bent backward even more force found it's target.

The pair fell in-sync but as they did Dean's hand kept on The Monk's face driving his head directly into the stone floor. Neither of the pair moved. "Well, this is a turn of events like give them a minute before we call it." The announcer's voice for a second time this fight had rung through the arena, not even he was sure what to do at this point. A good twenty seconds passed before either of the pair stood up and once again it seemed Dean had come out on top. He quickly knelt down and placed two of his fingers over The Monk's necks he still had a pulse but who knows what that last hit could have done to him. Dean stood back up stood up and raised his hands into the air in victory. "That was much more entertaining than the first round now yes with your second round complete you are officially a veteran but how about a third round?" The announcer's voice questioned getting another raise of his hands from Dean as in saying bring it on.

Now already injured and tired for many would have been a deal breaker but as for Dean as long as he survives he would be made a veteran and if he managed to win have a nice sum of credits coming his way. The two fights before had given him enough to eat for a long time but winning this third match would let him eat like a king...probably. Once again Dean took another drink of water spat it out and took his 30 seconds of rest whoever came out next would be just as strong as The Monk if not stronger.

 

[_Line 213]

Name: Aline Romani
Race: Human
Aura: ???
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Current Jam: Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', 0:00--0:24
Tagging: The Black Knight , Ginko The Mushishi , Nenma Takashi , Zamasu , Fearmonger


The old man's voice was like an anchor, calm amongst the chaos of his restaurant; his ability to spread that very same calm to those around him was indeed worthy of being called a skill, even if Aline had no idea how he managed to do so, or why he was bothering with her when what might well have been his livelihood was at stake.

She raised a hand to wipe away at her eyes. The man's voice had brought her comfort, though it also brought her a task, another turn that felt distinctly out of place as the fighting continued. She looked back at Akashiro, mouth open to declare her inability, only to be met with an expression that perfectly matched the tones of his voice. It was as if his attention had been entirely separated from the destruction surrounding them for the sake of teaching her something. In that instant, what might have been every-day knowledge for most became something invaluable, something that felt as if it would forever remain outside of her grasp if she didn't at least attempt to follow his words in that exact moment. Aline swiped at her eyes a second time, nodding firmly and without words, a motion of affirmation and renewed wits.

My...soul? She could only guess at what that meant, at least initially. No eyes, no mind; to an extent, that was self-explanatory. What she believed she saw wasn't what she sought, and if her mind would not lead the way either, then thought and overthought were nothing more than wasted time. Maybe he wants me to just feel.

It was a taller order than she had initially expected, especially with her heart and mind still racing faster than they had in recent memory. Eyes closed, she turned the elder's words over several times in her head, as if searching for the first press or latch on an intangible puzzle-box. And yet, the more she did so--much to her surprise--the clearer it all became. What he described was a feeling that she was innately familiar with, something that she experienced each and every time she was alone with her music. In another context, it was nothing if not natural; the only thing that was in her way was her own fear.

Her eyes remained shut, though her lids slowly relaxed in tandem with deep breaths. Only words of encouragement and calm ran through her heads, all others fading away, like the preparation before a performance. With relaxation came feeling, a long, slow breath escaping from slightly-parted lips as she centered herself, eyes slowly opening, before shooting open in surprise at what she saw. Varied expressions of the room's souls now danced around each body, faint to her eyes, yet present all the same, their distortions and colors flickering against the backdrop of the restaurant with a subtlety just above warped light passing through heated air. The feelings that flooded her body created an indescribable concoction, equal parts surprise, pride, happiness, and refreshed fear, all vying for dominance against the shock of the unknown.

"They're--they're all--" Once more, her mind was forced blank, though this time for very different reasons. The old man was right; there was more to this battle than she was capable of seeing before; if fighting was full of such revelations, then the road ahead of her was long, long indeed.

Yet, the creeping realization of just how far she had to go, and the despair borne upon the backs of such thoughts, vanished in an instant as the hatted woman suddenly and violently retaliated, turning the raging girl's attack against her with unprecedented ferocity, especially considering she had only witnessed the attack once. It was a tactic equal parts dirty and genius, momentarily flooding the dancer with anger as she realized that she had sympathized with someone who did not need it. The tables had turned, painting themselves with fresh blood in the process. In that instant, there was no difference between the two fighters save for strength; both were not only willing to kill, they wanted to kill. The only question was who would kill who, and whether or not they would take their time to enjoy it as they went.

A cry rang out as another of the defenders went down, just as another had moved to flee. Advantages had traded places in an instant across the board, the pressure against the defenders nearly seeming to double as things worsened.

At this rate, we're all going to die anyway! Aline's mind kicked back into overdrive, jaw and hands clenched so tightly that they were beginning to hurt; she didn't even need her newfound sight to know that their chances at walking away from it all were dwindling by the moment. Was there anything that she could do if she jumped in? Would she not be hastening her own demise? Even if her heart burned at the idea that others were putting their bodies on the line for her, something which she had promised to do for those now far and away across the sea, was it really worth it to involve herself?

Could she really put her ambitions at risk?

Amongst her overwhelming thoughts surged resurged one; a return to worries of ability, and thoughts of her goal being entirely out of reach. This was nothing if not a simple street brawl, and if there was nothing she could do here, then there quite simply would be nothing that she'd be able to do in the Andromeda Ultimate Fighting Championship.

If she could not act now, then she would not be able to act then. And if such were so, then nothing truly mattered at all.

Her eyes drifted across the room, landing upon her forgotten phone near the edge of the room. Tendons ached as she clenched her hands together far tighter than they were perhaps structured to be. Even if she was safe behind the bar, even if she managed to walk away from the restaurant with her life, if she was scared into inaction then, she would be too horrified to step into anything even remotely resembling a ring.

She had to act. Not for the others, not for the restaurant, not even for the old man; she had to prove to herself that she could belong here, in this hell of a city.

Her eyes shut tightly. Deep breath in. "S-Sir, thank you for this!" she exclaimed, as if in that one moment the elder had taught her all she needed to know about the world. In the next, she forced herself to move, vaulting over the bar. Even as her mind screamed out in protest, her heart finally forced her body to react. Were it not for the contrasting look of terror on her face, the sudden call to action might have been easily mistaken for sudden overconfidence, given the knowledge that was just imparted to her. Her perceived threatlessness was a boon in that instant, the gangsters focusing on their chosen fighters in the midst of it all as opposed to stopping her advances; there was no leaving the restaurant on their watch, after all, so why care about what a trembling mouse might wish to do within it? Her arm swept down, scooping up her phone from the ground as she nearly tumbled in the process, her nerves continuing to wreak havoc on her sense of movement.

She pulled her headphone cord from the plug, letting it fall harmlessly to the ground; the last thing that she needed was something like that tangling her up in the midst of a life or death situation. "Croupier!" she called to the phone, shoving it into a pocket within her half-jacket as the device beeped in waiting, "deal me in, max volume!"

Two affirmative chimes. "Shuffling your music," replied the device, the assistant's voice immediately giving way to three synthetic hits of a drum, followed by the beginning of a baseline. There was no way that she could just up and fight; her mind wasn't in the right place for something like that. Even now, with her nerves once again above the charts, she could no longer see or sense the pulsations of energy that had been so important mere seconds before. But, going off of what the old man said, if she managed to make herself feel instead of think, then maybe she'd stand a chance, at least as a distraction.

All I have to do is stall her out long enough for someone else to jump in, or for that other girl to wake up, or...or something! Seconds into the song, and the infectious beat and habitual impulses had already invoked a sense of movement in the girl, the hind leg of her low, cautious, unpracticed stance sending a ripple of movement up from the ball of her foot up to her subtly nodding head. The music caught Fedora's attention, the sleek, predatory woman stepping forward to close the distance between herself and her fresh prey with a combination of maddening suspense and uncanny, nearly unaffected grace, even despite her injuries; at that point she could have been nothing if not bemused at the dancer's attempt to mount some sort of offensive. Aline herself was anything but, her face a mixture of unhidden concentration and fear.

Which one would ultimately take over was something to be seen.

 

[Elenion Aura]

Name: Kuron
Race: Humanoid Android
Aura: Yellow
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Kinrin District; Outside Akashiro's Restaurant
Tagging: The Black Knight

Proximity Alert. Initiate Combat Sequence: A.​

Kuron reacted automatically to Akinari's renewed assault, fists raised in a guard against the volatile youth's spirited assault. Even so, Akinari's tenacious nature granted him one good hit on his robotic adversary. Kuron's jaw reeled from the blow, but with inhuman poise he weathered it and carried on, rebuffing what remained of his enemy's charge with one well placed jab, stunning the reanimated fighter and opening him up to the android's counter attack.

"This fellow's a lively one!" The Voice buzzed around Kuron's head as he grabbed his assailant around the wrist, yanking him off balance and holding him in his vice-like grip. "If he's going to keep popping back up, best to incapacitate him a little more permanently, eh, KURON?" Kuron made no noise as to his acquiescence, but the meaning behind the good doctor's words was not lost on him. He delivered a palm strike to the back of Akinari's hyper-extended elbow, snapping his left arm ninety degrees in the wrong direction. Kuron did not bat an eye at the pop, or the snap as ligaments tore, and bones splintered. In the same span of time the android lifted his front leg and drove the heel of his boot through the kneecap of Akinari's right, planted pivot leg, snapping it in a similar fashion to the arm. When Kuron discerned his opponent to be sufficiently incapacitated, he used his grip on the young man's arm to toss him aside. Off he went, head over belly, tumbling like a boneless rag doll a ways down the road leading up to Akashiro's.

"Excellent, KURON! That sure took the 'spring' out of his step... Fu-fu-fu..."

With one Deathstalker downed, for the second time, Kuron could turn his attention back to the man in the floppy hat. Though when Kuron searched for him, he instead found another in his place. His next opponent, he presumed. With the same nonchalance as taking off a coat, Kuron tore away and discarded the loose flaps of synthetic skin still clinging to his forearms, which now entirely exposed his sleek metallic exoskeleton to the crook of each elbow.

"I'm elevating your combat clearances, KURON. Let's show these scoundrels what real fighting is!"

"Affirmative." Kuron took note of the whir of the engines as they came online, one in each of his four limbs. His feet slid apart, until he had assumed a standard fighting stance, a slight bend in his knees, both arms raised, forearms ready to shield his face and chest from any incoming blows. Internal sensors gauged the distance between his quarry and his fist to be approximately 5.2 meters. At once, the thrusters embedded in the metallic muscle of his calves fired together, emitting jagged gouts of white-hot, super-heated gas to propel his body forward at high speed, rapidly closing the distance. Without dropping the guard of his other arm, Kuron launched a momentum-empowered right jab, aiming to stun this new enemy in a manner similar to how he'd dispatched Akinari.

ENGINE subroutines: initialized. Re-routing power.​

 

[Ginko The Mushishi]

Name: Zheng Luang
Race: Human
Aura: Phoenix Fire Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025.
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District. (A super-hero...Kinda?)
Tagging: The Black Knight Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi Zamasu _Line 213 Fearmonger Xale Elekta Kount Elenion Aura

Lu and PB had been clashing with no real winner up until Akashiro had roared out “WILL YOU WORK TOGETHER ALREADY? WHAT’S THE POINT OF TRYING TO SAVE MY RESTAURANT WHEN YOU’RE GETTING YOUR ASSES KICKED!?”

This is what pushed Lu to the fullest, he was so quick to decide on a fight he had forgotten the words of his peers, Aoki especially. The destruction of the restaurant was mainly because of the amount of neglect for team-work that happened. Lu would try to change this in the next moment of the battle. PB took a shot, Lu was able to block, but PB's fist was like solid steel crashing into Lu's bloody, cut up wrist. Lu grimaced, but grabbed PB's head and slammed his forehead into his opponent, messing up his face even more, and putting PB in a daze. This gave Lu a chance to breathe. He needed it after everything his body was going through. He could tell the blows to PB's face were what pissed him off, perhaps he can get him with one of his signature moves if he could hit his face one last time. Only problem is, he was beginning to feel the exhaustion take affect. This would have to be a good hit and one that would put PB down -Oh no. He was back in the fight.


PB had returned to the fight, grabbing at Lu and throwing him towards the floor. His fist was about to meet Lu's face, until Lu slammed his palm right into PB's nose. a nice crunch sound met the palm strike.. PB roared out in pain and anguish. "HE KEEPS. FUCKING. HITTING MY FACE!!!" While PB was distracted, Lu jumped up from the ground and decided to finish the fight. This had gone on too long. Lu leapt forward with amazing speed holding his fist outstretched, firm and ready for impact. "WALKING FIST!" A slam into PB's sternum, and a good push for measure, PB was thrown towards the back of the restaurant with Fujio, laying limp finally from the attack, his breathing would be difficult, but he would be just fine where he was. As an added luxury, Lu pushed two tables and chairs against Fujio and PB, locking them in place in the back. Just so Jesus, the proclaimed support of the gangsters wouldn't be able to revive them unless he wanted to take the time to pull them out of their prison.

Lu spotted Taiga and Tensai, she definitely needed help. And Lu was there to save the day...Kinda? "YAAAAHHOOO~!" Lu screamed out as he jumped on Tensai, latching his arms and legs onto the Deathstalker in a hilarious fashion. Tensai on the other hand was confused and desperately tried to unlatch Lu from his body. "G-GET OFF ME!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU IDIOT?!" He tried elbowing Lu, but without luck as Lu continued to yank Tensai around with him like a rodeo. Although his grip was slipping, he was giving Taiga enough time to fight back, hoping she would end it swiftly considering Lu's own stamina was wearing down and quick.

 

[The Black Knight]

Name: Musa Azuma
Race: Human
Aura: White (Currently)
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kinrin District.
Tagging: Tiramiisu Nenma Takashi Zamasu Elenion Aura Fearmonger _Line 213 Ginko The Mushishi Xale

With his hands tucked within the pockets of his black hoodie, Musa strolled down the street in deep meditation on how he was going to make enough money to not only get his apartment back but Bee. Without Bee, he would have to walk everywhere, bus, and take the metro more often. His golden eyes narrowed irritably at the idea. It was no wonder God didn’t create the subway. Only humans were capable of such an insufferable nightmare. A sardine can that often became infested with parasites trying to steal and harm their way through society. Musa stopped. It was stressful just thinking about it. He huffed heavily, brought his hands to his face, and tilted his head back as he tried not to think about the how. Money-making was his specialty. He was a natural hustler. The Hustler Goddess loved him, and she always shined her wand on a moment of financial opportunity for him.

Come on brain. We can figure this out, Musa thought.

Dude! The Deathstalkers are wrecking Akashiro’s joint!

Really?

I just saw this one guy send another one through a wall dude! It’s crazy!

Musa lowered his head. His fingers parted around his eyes as he stared at the street punks. One brought his shoes to the pedals of his low-rider bike and started pedaling in the restaurant’s direction, while the other one went running down the sidewalk like Paul Revere.

Akashiro? The Akashiro? He had his own place? Since when? How long have I been out of the loop? He already knew the answer to that question. Dropping his hands, he quickly raced after the cyclist, freezing suddenly in the middle of the street when an old beater nearly hit him. The tires screeched to a halt and the driver poked his head out the window.

“Are you insane?” the driver yelled.

“Hey screw you pal, if you won’t buck up, then give your superior the right o’way!”

“The fuck?”

The driver stepped out of the car, and Musa brought his hands together, popping his knuckles with a scowl on his face.

Akashiro’s

Musa was learning that Kinrin residents didn’t have much money--not what he would need to pay back his landlord any way. However, every digit counted. The guy he had robbed was wishing that he had never tried to hit him—even though it hadn’t been his fault.

After following the cyclist, who stopped a safe distance away from the restaurant to begin recording the fight on his phone. Musa marched over to him and snatched his phone out of his hands.

“What the! Hey!” the cyclist exclaimed.

Musa held the phone out of his reach and slapped his hand against the kid’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down on his bike seat. “You wanna die, Kid? As soon as The Deathstalkers see this shit on the net, they’re gonna track you and kill you.”

The cyclist paled at the revelation. Musa lowered the kid’s phone and looked at it. It looked about 100 credits. He slipped the phone into his back, jean pocket as he approached the restaurant.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

The place looked like a damn warzone. A body was in the doorway; people were covered in a ridiculous amount of blood; they were wielding knives and—was that a robot? Musa stopped a few feet from the restaurant entrance to gawk. What kind of service bot was that?!

A monstrous bellow caused Musa’s head to snap toward the restaurant. Whatever was stomping around in there, he could feel the vibrations of their footsteps passing through the ground. What did they have in there, a hulk? Musa was afraid to look. He approached the door, his eyes lowering to the body on the floor—was he dead? He saw some massive mother trudge before it. Yep, he called it, it was a hulk. Musa’s lips parted in awe. He stepped up to the doorway and curiously nudged the body with his foot just to see if rigor mortis had set in. When the body wobbled in response, then he figured the kid was just unconscious.

There was a girl battling the behemoth all by herself, another girl who was getting pummeled by a nerd, a fedora-wearing gangster standing over another body. One guy was…riding another guy…he regarded them with a blank expression. Some guy had some ki-constructed polearm holding some bloody dude in the air. A girl was randomly jamming as though she had no care in the world. The hell? It was absolute chaos!

Musa’s lips cocked into a smirk. He raised a hand next to his mouth and called into the restaurant, “Oi, anosa, looks like you gotta pest problem! 500 credits and I’ll get rid of these jackasses!”

Musa walked further in. Ideas were just popping up in his head that he couldn’t help but grin brightly. “Hey, if 500 credits are too expensive, I’ll clear these bodies out of here for 100 each.”

Musa glanced between Aoki and the board-swinging hulk and quickly ran between them as though he were crossing a busy street. He stopped abruptly behind the girl who was nodding to the beat of whatever she was listening to. Peering over her shoulder, Musa’s honey hues widened in surprise when the fedora-wearing girl swiftly approached her and threw a fist. Was the girl even paying attention or was she too deep in her playlist? Musa’s right arm shot passed Aline’s right side to stop the fist that she sent toward Aline. Fedora’s fist struck his palm with a clap, and it was quickly retracted and exchanged for a roundhouse kick that Musa promptly moved to intercept. As Fedora’s hand had retracted, his also had retracted to grasp Aline’s right shoulder. Using it as support, he pushed down on it, swinging his body before hers as his right foot would connect with Fedora’s. Their feet struck and Musa’s steel-toe boots won out.

Fedora’s kick reversed itself. Once her foot settled back onto the floor, she tried to stand before Musa in an unwavering manner, but he saw her left leg begin to buckle. Her hand went to grasp her ankle and Musa raised his chin with a proud smile on his face. “And you tried to hide it, hpmh,” he laughed.

His eyes went from Fedora to an old man he saw sitting in a wheel-chair with a pretty little thing standing behind him. Immediately he thought, That must be him!

Musa raised his hand and hailed, “Ojiisan!”

Fedora straightened and suddenly her fists were a blur. While Musa was distracted, her fists rapidly connected with his face, chest, and shoulders, her fists bombarding his body and causing it to convulse. If Aline had been behind him still, then she might have felt the gust from Fedora’s strikes. When Fedora’s barrage had stopped, she was panting behind her facemask, shoulders rising and falling and fists up and clenched. Musa’s face above his nose was veiled in shadow and his lips were parted in shock. Thin streams of blood descended from his nose and lower lip. His knees buckled, and slowly he sank to the floor. She had struck him as though she were anxious to get him out of the way. Maybe she was hoping to end it quickly? He dropped to his knees. When the palms of his hands met the floor, Musa immediately pushed off them and lunged at Fedora with his arms reaching out to her for a takedown. Fedora stepped back out of his reach, and then quickly back in, bringing her knee crashing upwards against Musa’s chin.

Musa sank to his knees again, hands clutching his chin as he bore his teeth in a wince. She wasn’t that strong. Her punches only hurt because of her knuckledusters. She was probably worn out by her first fight. She was quick, and she had been able to anticipate his actions. Musa rose to his feet and lowered his hands from his chin. He raised his arms like a boxer and started carefully stepping toward her. Fedora copied his stance and started stepping toward him. He threw a basic one-two at her, in which she blocked with her raised arms and returned it. Her punches struck his guard like hammers. Musa realized two things then. It wasn’t just her knuckledusters that hurt, it was her ki. She had basically copied his move and returned it. Was that all she could do? One-two; one-two. Fedora returned one-two; one-two. Add that to her ability to anticipate his actions and this bitch was…well…a bitch.

The corner of Musa’s bleeding lip arched in disgust as he hissed, “Psh!”

What a cheap fighter. Musa leaned all of his weight onto his right leg and raised his left leg, bending it at the knee in what appeared to be preparation for a kick. Fedora’s guard had already changed in anticipation for it. Her right hand turned until it was palm out. She was prepared to block it, and her left hand balled into a fist for a potential counter. However, Musa’s leg never extended. Instead, there was a loud trumpet-like blare and a hot rancid gust wafted into her face. Fedora’s pearl-like eyes widened in horror and her hands crossed over her facemask to protect her nose from the smell.

Lowering his leg, Musa turned his back to her dismissively as he fanned his backside on his way to Aline. “Copy that” he muttered. Once he stood before Aline, he looked the girl in her brown eyes and gave her one request: “Let’s dance.” Whether she heard him or not through her headphones, his lips had formed the words and his offered upturned hand the gesture.

 

[_Line 213]

Name: Aline Romani
Race: Human
Aura: ???
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Current Jam: Wanna Be Startin' Somethin', 0:24--2:20
Tagging: The Black Knight , Ginko The Mushishi , Nenma Takashi , Zamasu , Fearmonger

Her opponent's first blow came sailing towards her, and though Aline's mind was still uncertain as to whether or not she was ready, her body was primed to move. It became clear in an instant, however, that she didn't have to; another figure had entered the fray in the form of a blur, Aline's eyes going wide as he suddenly decided to claim Fedora as his own, fists and strikes looping and entangling amongst each other in a confusing flurry of newfound energy, Fedora apparently having drummed up whatever reserves she still had in order to deal with this sudden new threat. He was far more dangerous than the mouse that had threatened to "fight" her mere moments before, yet even then, the gang member managed to gain the upper hand with surprising swiftness; were it not for the man's willingness to always get up again, always take another punch, Aline might have been initially disheartened.

Of course, even if she were, chances are the man's antics wouldn't have allowed such a feeling to persist very long. Indeed, he even managed to erase her growing opinion of him in a single, swift second.

And on top of that, he had the audacity to be suave afterward, as if he somehow expected Aline's eyes to have missed everything that came beforehand. She had even been momentarily snapped out of her music, such was his presentation. A repulsed grimace plastered itself upon her face, the dancer recoiling slightly as he offered his hand. "Is this really the right place and time for what you're doing?" she questioned, the battle still swirling all around them. "I don't know if you've been paying attention, but people have been--"

A familiar, telltale wind interrupted her thoughts, a breeze borne on the back of a fast and ruthless blow, identical to those she had felt mere moments before. It was a surprise, even to her, that she managed to feel it and react accordingly; the strike scraped past her by a hair, the girl's eyes wide with shock as she barely managed to react. If the blow had connected, there was a very high chance of it being the end of her.

She slid back a bit, now safely out of the way, yet she doubled back to the newest arrival in hopes that the remains of his "attack" had dissipated. Slowly, she began to work her way back into the music emanating from her jacket pocket, the heel of her foot twitching up and down to the rhythm. "...Okay, fine, since I think we have to anyway," she said, finally offering a proper response to his question, "so if you have any bright ideas--" Another interruption; it was wise of Fedora to ensure that the two didn't get to spend too much time talking. It was another swift and sudden strike, a more subtle emulation of the punishing below she had inherited from the girl she had since decommissioned, though whether its lack of power was due to situational adaptation or mere fatigue and injury was a clue Aline's untrained eyes weren't able to pick up on. The shock of the moment had stripped her of her aura-sight, and there was no telling when she'd be able to get it back. She shifted out of the way by a hair again, brows furrowing for a moment. She stopped on a dime, darting back in with a quick blow to the woman's back, only to step back again with surprising speed, entirely in tandem with one of the two-beat backing vocals. Fedora spun as well, unleashing a second attack, the two sets of two birthed from her exchange with Musa, again for naught, and clumsy, in a sense. Yet not in terms of form, but something...familiar. Something the girl's eyes could recognize.

Is she...off rhythm? Aline hopped closer, a flash of realization shooting through her mind as she once again moved with the vocals, zipping in and past Fedora with a passing strike for her upper thigh, and another for the back of her head. Though the first one was countered, the second went uncontested, the strike sending Fedora stumbling forward, dazed--but only slightly. When she returned fire, stringing together several copied techniques, their speeds and forms varying wildly, a shockwave of realization coursed through Aline's mind--even as one of the blows nearly knocked the wind out of her. Again.

Skidding to a stop, she steadied her thoughts, along with her breath. The blow hurt, but after first one she had taken that day, she already felt somewhat numb. Maybe that wasn't a good sign. That's not it...She doesn't have any! All her moves--everything she does--none of them match up with any of the others! Now, she was emboldened. She didn't have many advantages over the woman, nothing in knowledge, technique, form, or experience, but rhythm, that was something she could exceed her on. She called to her dance partner, the back of her foot once again tapping against the ground as she steadied her stance. "I have an idea! N-No matter what, don't let up! I'll take care of the rest!" Aline narrowed her eyes, sound coursing through her ears. As long as she keeps up like that, I should be able to keep out of her way; if she adjusts to my rhythm, it limits her pool of attacks--then, as long as we improvise...

Aline broke out into a ran, quickly closing the distance between herself and Fedora. She slipped out of the way of an incoming strike in the middle of a recurring set of five synthetic beats, the sudden, immediate change of her angle throwing the woman off as her blow went wide into the air, leaving her open for a split second. Yet, in the following beat, Aline had doubled back, sliding along the flooring as she kicked Fedora's legs out from under her.

"Do something!"

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

Name: Alexander Matte
Race: Human
Aura: Light Green
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Kinrin District; Akashiro's Restaurant
Tagging: Zamasu

When Alex wasn't working at his own place, he often explored the various districts of the city, offering his services to any who needed them, or occasionally looking for new and exciting places. He was only in this particular district because he'd heard of a rather interesting restaurant, one that promised good food and he enjoyed the taste of well prepared food.

Of course when the taxi stopped down the street from the place, he was a little surprised "I'd like to ask why we've stopped such a distance away" he asked softly as he got out to pay.

"Listen man, the place is nice but it draws trouble. Ain't heard nothin' but people getting hurt over there recently. Not getting any closer than here. Would really recommend you not going there either"

Alex chuckled softly "Don't worry about me" he said paying the man a little more extra for his trouble "I'm a Doctor, if people are hurt, that is where I'm needed" he placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the sidewalk. When he got to the restaurant he was a little surprised at how it looked as well as the noises coming from inside.

As he got closer, he noticed a body in the doorway and knelt down, checking for any signs of life but he was quite sure the man was dead "Unfortunate" he said softly as he looked into the building and noting the sheer chaos that was going on. He frowned slightly as he made quick notes of who was the most injured. Then his eyes landed on Joanna and Cherie just as they headed into the kitchen. He nodded. First point of business was to prevent the fallen ones from becoming any more fallen.

Moving around the action, he headed into the kitchen and he heard the last of Cherie's sentence "Pardonne-moi," he said rubbing the back of his head "My french is a bit rusty...but ah...Je suis...er..mèdecin" his french was certainly choppy but he still remembered how to say 'I am a doctor'.

It might have also helped had he known that she knew English.

Still, he was hoping that she allowed him to work on the woman. Some people were fiercely protective of their loved ones. He didn't want to have to remove her to give aid to someone else.

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

Name: Alexander Matte
Race: Human
Aura: Light Green
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Kinrin District; Akashiro's Restaurant
Tagging: Zamasu

Alex nodded "Well...looks like I've made a fool of myself" he said quietly "Of course, can't promise I'll get her on her feet, but as long as a person isn't dead, I can keep them that way" he moved over to Joanna and gently laid her flat on the floor. He reached into his side and pulled out a medium sized pouch and laid it out next to the young woman before unrolling it and revealing the multitude of small needles "Lets see, several fractures, some internal hemorrhaging. She took a serious beating"

He stood up and moved around the kitchen, grabbing any type of cloth that he could before tearing them up, reminding himself to repay the owner later "Now Miss...I'm sorry, I don't even know either of your names" he held out half of the cloths to Cherie "There will be time for that later, rinse these in hot water then wring them out" he moved back to Joanna "Need to numb her first" he mumbled as his fingers flicked over the needles and selected three which he deftly placed at the base of her spine before sitting her head down slowly "Short term paralysis. Arms first." he spoke softly as he moved to reset the bones in her arms. Once done, he used he cloths to firmly secure her arms to her sides to prevent them moving.

"Legs next" he moved further down and repeated the process with her legs.

"Now is the harder part" he pulled out ten needles and began sticking them into various points along her chest and stomach "Fascinating is the concept of Ki, regulates all of the bodies systems, but it isn't perfect, burns off too much energy trying to repair things that can be left later, such as broken limbs. So I have to redirect what little Ki she has left away from her limbs, focusing on the internal damage she has"

He then moved closer to Joanna and placed his hands directly above the needles "Breathe in" he said softly and took a deep breath. His aura flared up around him and slowly rotated across his skin "Breathe out" as he spoke he slowly let the breath out and his aura shifted, flowing across his hands and onto the needles. Each needle slowly took on a soft green glow as he focused. His breath came steady as he focused his aura into her body, helping to aid her own Ki in repairing her internal injuries.

 

[Seraph Darkfire]

Name: Alexander Matte
Race: Human
Aura: Light Green
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Kinrin District; Akashiro's Restaurant
Tagging: Zamasu

He continued to breath, letting his aura flow through Joanna. It wasn't much longer before he stopped and let out a deep breath, his aura looking dim but calm. He smiled as he slowly began to remove the needles from her chest and put them away. However, he left the ones paralyzing her body in though. Once he had put away the other needles, he looked at Cherie "I may have healed her, but she isn't one hundred percent ready to fight again, her internal Ki is nearly completely depleted, and while her bones aren't broken anymore they aren't perfectly fixed. To much stress could cause them to break even worse...which is why I've left her paralyzed for now. I'm sure you don't want her rushing back out there and actually dying this time"

He took one of the towels and wiped his face "The rest of those are for cleaning her off. Sweat and blood can get unpleasant if left alone for too long. Feel free to talk though" he looked back to Joanna "Everything below your neck is paralyzed, but your mouth should still work"

Alex sighed and set himself in a meditative position to speed up his Ki regeneration. Helping another person miraculously heal was not a simple process, especially when it was another Martial Artist. Normal people he could fix up with barely a breath, but someone like Joanna was a lot of work.

 

[Zamasu]

Name: Joanna Pharell
Race: Human
Aura: Blue
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District
Tagging: The Black Knight Tiramiisu Ginko The Mushishi Nenma Takashi _Line 213 Fearmonger Elekta Kount Xale Elenion Aura sprouhtt Seraph Darkfire

Some damages have been repaired, though Joanna is far from getting fully recovered. "Thank you, doctor." Cherie says to him with a smile before going over to her love and kneels down beside her. The French girl takes a good look down at Joanna befofe she softly whispers into her ear "Its going to be alright, honey." She then licks her ear, which Joanna was taken by surprise. "What the fuck, Cherie?!" She freaks out "Not at a time like this!" Cherie giggled in response and Joanna sighs.

"If you're thinking of doing that, at least wait until its Valentines Day so we can get the mood. Right now, its getting a bit hectic, and also I'm freaking starving here." Joanna says to which Cherie nods. Joanna sighs once more before saying in a solemn tone "This isn't the first time I got my bones all broken up. At this condition, it reminds me of that horrible day where-" Cherie suddenly shush her, placing her finger right at her lips before she smoothly slides it into her mouth, which she quickly moves it away when she gagged. "What the hell?!" Joanna yelled as she coughs and Cherie responded back with a giggle before saying "You sounded and look way too cute when your annoyed. No wonder why I've fell in love with you in the first place." Joanna looks away in disgust and quietly says "Yeah, whatever."

 

[sprouhtt]

Name: Ayumi Akashiro
Race: Human
Aura: Gold
Date/Time: January 1, 2025
Location: Akashiro's Restaurant, Kirin District. (Inside)
Tagging: The Black Knight (Koizumi Akashiro) , Zamasu (Joanna), _Line 213 (Aline), & Seraph Darkfire (Alexander)

Ayumi winced at the blow that Fedora sent to Joanna and she only shook her head. Must this girl always lose sight of her opponents, this is why she just got her rear end handed to her. Ayumi was used to seeing the place get damaged like this, and the fighters as well. No wonder many tourist dare venture in this restaurant. It's like a live-action play that takes place at the Akashiro restaurant. Ayumi and her uncle only wanted to serve people really good food, that would send their taste buds heading into heaven and then coming back down. But how can they, when they have hooligans rampaging through the restaurant. Have they no sympathy for the old man? Ayumi wished that she could throw daggers at every single one of them, but then that would be murder, and she's not capable of murdering a fly, or so she thinks. But almost everyone is capable of doing something bad to one another, they just don't know what they're capable of doing until it happens. She listened to her uncle speak, and Ayumi only put her hand on her waist. "...but Oji-san, if you had taught me your ways then this wouldn't be happening in the first place... I'd be the most feared fighter that they wouldn't step foot in the restaurant again." Ayumi said, but she knew that it was too soon to be talking about these kinds of things, especially when there were people around here. Ayumi didn't want to start arguing with her uncle, she knew it wouldn't benefit either one of them.

When her uncle pointed to the two that were named Aline and Cherie, Ayumi has heard of the two, mostly Cherie. Cherie was an interesting character to Ayumi, Ayumi felt like she wanted to know more about her and how she came to being the Cherie that she is. But Ayumi knew that some things are better kept in the past, which is why Ayumi doesn't dare to pry or poke her. Aline is another character, she often times stops buy for Pho, or other foods on the menu, Ayumi usually serves her and is on her way to another customer, but from what she has heard she knows that Aline is very street smarts when it comes to many things, Ayumi should take notes. As small as Ayumi looked, she was as strong as can be. Whenever she is exercising, she can lift anything from 100 to 290 pounds, so Ayumi was thinking of slinging the two who couldn't walk at all over her shoulder and get on with moving them to a safer area, but then her uncle opened his mouth again to point to another person named Joana, Ayumi looked and let out a sigh. But what she noticed was how Fedora was hovering over Joana, how does her uncle think that she is going to help Joana, with Fedora guarding her beat up body like that? "Oji-san, you think that I can help Joana, look at who's hovering over her. We would need a diversion to get her from underneath Fedora, " Ayumi said to her uncle in a bit of a whisper.

Ayumi was soon quieted down when she saw the one named Aline, making her way to what appeared to be her phone. Is she wishing to be on her death bed? She questioned to herself as she ran her hand through her straight black hair and ruffled up her bangs before they were back to their usual stance. A young fellow, a young good looking fellow in Ayumi's eyes was offering to dance with Aline. A possible love interest? Who knows, because anything can happen at this crazy restaurant. Ayumi let out a sigh as she watched the chaos unfollowed before her, it was getting messy. When she saw messy, she meant, messy, there was blood everywhere. It was going to take them more than two days to clean this mess up and fix a couple of things. Why couldn't they have taken this fight to a park or something?

"Oji-san? Uncle, I didn't think you had another nephew? Why is this man calling you that? Does he know you?" Ayumi asked her uncle, referring to the new man who had just shown up. Ojii-san my ass, I'm the only one that calls him that. Ayumi thought as jealous was about to go over her head.

Ayumi shook her head and wondered if she should even go over to Mrs Limp-a-lot called Aline and helped her snap out of her because now she was dancing if she could dance, she seemed to be alright. Ayumi looked to her right and saw that a tall man and a very young looking man came to assist the young couple on the floor Joana and Cherie. Ayumi was going to do that, she felt annoyed and frustrated. Ayumi liked helping some of the fighters whenever they gave a hand in protecting the restaurant, she felt like that was the only thing she could do before her uncle's eyes is help the injured. It was a good thing that she learned a thing or two from her mother when they used to live in the mountains because when her mother wasn't seaming any dresses, she was practising ancient and very effective herbal medicine by using nothing but natures gifts. It was relaxing, and Ayumi has practised ever since, and even getting good at it. But I wouldn't call her a doctor, maybe a slight miracle working, but that's it.