Violent, maybe drunk

[Vicious]

Closed to Taskmienster


Aromatic smoke poured from her lips as she sat at the waiting table. A beer in her hand as she watched along with the rest of the place, bones broken and faces turned to hamburger. Honestly it wasn't that hard to find what was, as written on the sign, the toughest bar in all of the city. A bar built around an old and what most would consider illegal combat ring, was true to itself as one of the most dirty, foul and all around disgusting places to get a drink.

Even the beer was near undrinkable, let alone some of the slop that a few of the older and less...delightful patrons. As far as Vicious could tell from the two days she had spent there, cops wouldn't even be found here less they had paid for protection at the door. Granted, it was just like back in Alerar, back in the old Fetid Wench.

Tonight though she had decided to put her money where her mouth was and get the old blades a crimson. Word had it that she would be against some bugger called Lars. Not that it mattered, everyone dies just about the same.

A bell rang at just barely audible over the hoots and hollers of the bar, one warrior down, the other looking nothing like what his mother would remember. A wide smile crested her face as she took one last swig of the foul, swill like ale before standing.

Her shoulder smacked into the winner as they crossed at the entrance to the arena, and even then as she gave him a snide smile at their meeting, the crowd knew a fight between them would happen soon.

Just like she wanted.

It was a simple little pit, dusty, surrounded by chain link fencing. Crude but suitable, especially with all the broken bottles and such lining the edges of it.

“Now announcing for her first time, Vicious Kane!!” the announcer chimed from his booth up on the second floor.

Her smile was wide and an example of her name, her slightly more pronounced canines seemed like those of some hungry wolf than a simple ice elf. Her blades stood ready inside their sheathes, awaiting this “punk kid” or so she had heard from some drunkard.

Come on ya bloody goat shagger....

[Taskmienster]

The clanking of pots and pans was intruding the peace that Collin wanted more than anything. The throbbing headache was quickly reaching its pinnacle, reaching out to rise to the vicious ranks of a full blow migraine. The twenty nine year old, self proclaimed ‘master hacker’ was tired. Work at GramVR had been nonstop for a week, hours and hours spent in the web pods hacking and fucking around with Althanas (the gaming server created by a rival company, TechFront). The apartment was his reprieve from the false realities of the Althanas world, but his girlfriend had been terrorizing him with overwhelming noise since he had come home.

“Look… I know your still pissed about your character being lost somewhere on Althanas, but you don’t have to take it out on me with that incessant racket.” The noise stopped instantly, whether for the better or not was still to be determined. Collin took a heavy sip of his beer and a long draw from the hookah on the table. College basketball just wasn’t what it used to be, he thought as he flipped through channel after channel. “Sorry I snapped… just have a headache you know? It was a long day today…”

“Oh yea? You had a long day?” Brittany asked with venom in her tone. Her hand was tightly wrapped around a heavy pan, waving it menacingly… purposely or not. “I had to actually work, do that stupid crap that they make me do at the office. You know how boring that shit is, working every day on programming for some stupid person who wants to learn about a new country, or a new language. You worked with me, sometimes… most of the time you were playing on Grimm or some other silly game. Now you’re paid for what? To play all day on this Althanas bullshit?”

“I don’t just play you know.” Collin finished the beer, his fourth in an hour, and reclined as he continued to explain his new job. “You understand what I’m doing right? I go on Althanas, so far without detection from the Administrative staff, and learn the coding of the server. I play with the codes, fuck with the reality, and do whatever comes up for the day. I mean today, for instance, I had to fight some elf bitch today for example… she was a weird one for sure.”

Brit put down the pot and smiled; a half smile type thing that is only partly real and mostly sarcastic. She sat cross legged at the side of the Irishman’s chair and handed him another beer. Her soft brown hair was pushed back behind her glasses as she made a sour sad face. “Oh my poor baby… do go on, I feel so bad for your horrible, horrible day.”

“Don’t mock me…”

“No no, please, I’m interested in hearing what the hell is so stressing about playing a game all day.” Collin sighed, opened the beer and took a swig before telling the story of the battle with the ice elf ‘Vicious’ Kane in a slum bar.


~X~

Radasanth is a slum, pure and simple. The entire town is a slum from what I’ve seen, but from what I was told it hadn’t always been. It was once a nice town, full of nice people, where diversity was hailed before all and equal opportunity for anyone willing to work. (Kinda like America before all the fuckin’ wars and our fucked up economy.) Well, the town had gone to shit slowly, due to the civil war that was destroying the social structure of the government of Corone (the island nation). In the wake it had left quite a stir in the streets… illegal gambling was unchecked, small riots weren’t uncommon, and the middling bars between high class and slums had taken up quite a bit of under the table fighting matches.

“The Rooster’s Hammer,” I said to myself. What a silly name, the meaning behind it was undoubtedly interesting, but it was still pretty fuckin’ inane as far as I could assume. I walked through the door and right into a cloud of smoke. The smoke I blew hardly affected the acrid fog around me, and I figured there was enough that I didn’t even need to smoke to get the nicotine buzz going. So I tossed my cigarette on the ground and stomped it out.

“Good eve,” a crooked man said. By crooked I don’t mean shady, though he definitely looked the part of a shady criminal. His back was nearly turned at a forty five degree angle, one hand resting on a cane to support the lopsided weight. A strange growth, like the hunchback of Notre Dame kind, peeked out from beneath his ragged, stretched shirt. I couldn’t help but kinda grimace while looking at him. “Come to check out the Hammer? Or perhaps your interested in a good ol’ fashioned fight? Eh?”

“Yeah, a ol’ fashioned fight,” I muttered only half interested. There were plenty of things to look at from the glow of the old swinging lights to the blood smeared mat at the center. Two men were exiting the ring, both a little bloodied but not enough to cause alarm. “The name’s Lars, who am I fighting?”

“That elf over there,” he said, turning his squat figure around to point at a woman on the other side of the ring. A pink haired, wicked looking bitch was waiting for the next fight to end. Her hair was streaked with white on her bangs and at the ends of the tips. I touched my own hair, almost laughing at the similarities of my black spiked hair and white streaks. “Her names, Victoria, but everyone calls her ‘Vicious’.”

“So be it, but don’t announce my name like some cliché boxing match is about to take place. Just tell her I’m her opponent and I’ll wait for the end of the round to jump in… right?” The dirty hunchback smiled, the growth causing his face to slant upwards at a funny angle. He shambled over to some people, talked with each, and turned with a thumbs-up towards me. When the two men stumbled out I went in, taking my place on the other side of the pit through a separate door.

[Vicious]

The remainder of her cig fell to the floor before being crushed underfoot as she continued her wicked grin. The faces of the crowd melding into a sort of black static of noise and color as she focused on her opponent. With a name like his, she had suspected that he would have been some six foot tall dullard with a brain slightly more capable than a cow.

Still could for all Vicious knew. His haphazard hair and mixed clothes seemed like some kind of male attempt at mimicry. Not that it was that flattering to the ice elf, simply an observation that would spark that little tinge of hope for an interesting conflict.

His armaments seemed to be somewhere equaled to hers, which would only mean...well nothing. Fights were not about the weapon, but how willing you are to win. Cut out his eyes, slit his Achilles tendon, pull his shirt over his head, make a new corn hole somewhere in the middle, any and all ways were viable in love and war.

Love was actually less a part of the metaphor than a truth, Ever since the throat of her first kill, back when she had hesitated then cut quickly with the old knife. It was over before she had really gotten to feel what happened. Then the second time, a nasty dark elf with a club with the cheap blade she wielded plunged deep into his guts, the tip grinding against the front of his spine.

Then when the moment of adrenaline was over, she stood there, staring into his dieing eyes and all she could think about was how comparable it was to a good shagging. After that, it was an either or; and by that it meant sex or killing. Either one was just grand for Vicious.

The dust crinkled under her boot as she stretched her back a little before finishing with a quick knuckle popping. With a short press of her glasses back into a tight position she watched him enter. Her lips smacked as her eyes narrowed, was the way a full frontal attack or perhaps a sneaky, unexpected abuse of magic?

Frag it...

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of the match as she began to circle him, her eyes still narrowed and a grin on her face. Slowly she would close the gap, but then again, that would bore the crowd. The ring really wasn't very large, which would make a sudden movement seem even quicker.

“Ladies first!” she called as she launched in, throwing her knee up fast towards his groin in an attempt to take an early lead.

[Taskmienster]

The gate and fencing around the pit was just linked steel, nothing special. Along the edge was a collection of shattered glass bottles, mugs, and god knows what else. I knew it would be dangerous to stand near it, or on it, even with my combat boots. It would be a good place to throw an opponent though, or force them near. I kept it in the back of my mind. The slightly inclined, short stairs that led towards the shallow pit were another obstruction to be noted, but more for my own safety than anything. The announcer was loud, bothering my thoughts and calling out the name of the elf bitch I was going to fight.

I had a chance to look her over again, and saw nothing interesting. I lit a cigarette while the man talked, puffing out smoke with a half smile. It was probably going to be one hell of a fight, I was thinking, but I didn’t want to appear concerned. If I gave away that I was scared she’d have the upper hand, if I came off too cocky she would probably want to ‘show me a lesson’. Cocky or not, she was a quick little twat, wasting no time to begin the fight.

After some precursory examinations, a bit of circling (during which I didn’t move much away from my side of the wall) she attacked. She had to throw in some canny phrase about women fighting first, some childish nonsense that was pretty annoying more than anything. I never commented back about it, just tightened my lips on the tip of the cig and took a shallow inhale when she charged. Reckless is about the only way I could describe her actions, reckless and stupid perhaps. Her forward knee strike was aimed at my balls, like I wasn’t going to move or anything.

Just before she got within a couple feet I could have popped out a dagger for either hand. The weapons were small, easy to throw, and I’m getting quite good at using them. But I didn’t want to be unfair so early. A knife through her throat, or any of her exposed and unarmored body would have put me in a quick commanding role. It just wasn’t fun that way though, no sense in wasting my time if I was going to disappoint the drunks and the guys hostin’ the competition.

So I twisted on my right foot and pivoted away. I kicked up dust with the quick movement, what little dirt was left uncoated with blood. As the strike passed through and by my outside leg I jumped forward and lowered my shoulder. I didn’t want to hold her, grab her and get into some wrestling match with some fuckin’ elf, freak bitch. I wanted to throw her away, bruise her or break an arm or rib. Something small, you know? At most she’d get pushed towards the glass lined edges.

[Vicious]

His shoulder collided with hers as the crowed roared. It sent her off balance for a mere moment before she was able to bring her leg back down to right herself. With him so close she could only think in short emotions and phrases.

Good, not a wuss.

With he continued smile she spun towards him, the back of her fist aimed for his jaw while her other rested on a knife just in case. It was that feeling that he had a few tricks up his sleeves that made her hold at least a little caution in all this.

Truly though, even with the natural caution, she wanted this to last for a while yet. It was never fun if her prey just curled up and let her kill them. Her third paid kill had done that, a little spindly merchant in the back streets of the market. Her blades had cut deep into his only bodyguard's kidneys, incapacitating him within a moment. Then it was there that her target had soiled himself and began crying like a child with a skinned knee.

People that ended up like that were only asking Vicious to kill them, and brutally. Then again, here we have the other end of the spectrum, someone that was willing to fight back. Even though she was still going to cut this Lars fellow a new ars, it wasn't because of weakness on his behalf.

Naw, this would be simple respect, there was no reason to not be so nasty with a fellow fighter. It would just be rude to let them die quietly.

[Taskmienster]

Luckily I hit her and pushed away, but did nearly no damage. She caught herself quickly with a stretched leg for support. A few more feet and the green and brown glass along the edge would have gotten her even if she had put her leg down. It was too bad it didn’t, ‘cause she was a quick bitch. Her retaliation against me really close and fast, leaving me without a hole to escape through or time to think. She spun hastily with her balled fist aimed at my face. I’m quick, able to dodge pretty well thanks to one of the coding boosts I still have at all times, but she was too close.

My head snapped to the side and I clenched tightly down with my lips to keep the cig from flying. I never lost my balance, but it was unexpected as all hell. My head snapped back towards her and I took a couple shuffle steps away for distance. Should I have taken out my daggers and taken advantage of the turn? Should I have put a dagger in her spinning body? Probably, but I didn’t. Not sure why, figure I didn’t have enough time to get a dagger and clutch it properly. Plus aiming a throw with my head still rattling my senses I would have missed anyway.

I could hear the stupid crowd overhead, cheering and leering. They called through drunken slurs at both of us, incoherent babble. They spat at me, some spat at her… they just wanted blood or their fuckin’ pockets filled with the bets they made. Spurring us like rabid dogs wasn’t going to do the trick though. Hell, if it hadn’t been for my opponent and wondering if she wouldn’t fight either, I would have quit right then and there and let them kiss my ass. I could have cared less, but I knew ‘Vicious’ wasn’t going to stop fighting, so I didn’t either.

Instead of throwing a dagger I lunged forward and swung a heavy kick at the outside of her thigh. I hoped she would still be a little dizzy from the spin, maybe just a bit off balance. If she wasn’t it wouldn’t matter anyway, because my boots are made of heavy leather, like military combat boots. A good hit and that muscle on the outside of her thigh would be bruised and the nerves running the length of the surface would throb and go numb.


~X~

“I know what a dead leg is, asshole.” Brit was being mean, but Collin only meant for her to get the gist of what was going on… what he was thinking. He took another sip of his beer and a long drag on his hookah. “But wouldn’t you be at a precarious place if you missed, or if she was ready?”

“Of course, but fightin’s not about worrying. Hell, if you only shot when you were sure to have a clean kill do you think we’d ever have shot? No. The sure shot is when you have the time to think about it,” Lars inhaled and blew a few smoke rings before continuing. “It’s a hand to hand fight, there’s so little thought involved before swinging its impossible to predict what’s gonna happen.”

Brit smirked and shook her head. She had seen Collin’s character fight many many times, and the Irishman’s fights at shows were a lot like the ones Lars fought in games. Brutish, quick, and always looking for an advantage. He could claim to not wait for the perfect shot, but the girl knew better. She had seen him wait and parry blows for a while before suddenly unleashing… and that surprise always created that ‘perfect shot’.

“Alright, so what happened?”

[Vicious]

Fuck yeah...

Twas that glorious feeling of fist against face that she would always love that started things off on the right foot again. Simply there was nothing more satisfying than personal contact, whether from violence or fornication. Vicious's boot slid in the dirt as she turned more, facing him as he looked as if he was trying to play it all cool by not dropping his cig.

The wondrous static around them grew like a wave as she winked at her soon to probably bruised challenger. His wavered steps let her know of the resounding vibrations within his skull, probably sounding something like Cradle of Filth inside of an iron cauldron.

It was then, as she gazed at him over her glasses did her hands drop down and behind her. His body lurching towards her, his hip rearing as she saw the kick coming. It would be low, she could tell from the way he lifted his leg.

Oi, ya bleedin slow one...

From under her long locks did the twin blades appear, her hands holding the crafted handles with the grip born of killing. The closest went up, before coming down as his leg neared, aimed high at the back of his knee as the other came up closer to her, meant for blocking the blow with a keen steel edge. They glinted in the bright lime lights as she couldn't help but smile at him, staring strait into his eyes.

[Taskmienster]

The girl was faster than me, that’s what. She was fucking fast as all hell, not even my speed boosts seem to beat her intuition and drawn daggers. Both blades were steel; the light flickered off them when she moved and that’s the only thing I could imagine them being. (I’m still not too familiar with all the different metals and alloys on the server, but steel’s definitely the most widely used.) They weren’t very long, maybe four inches, but had a wicked hand guard that looked like a pair of brass knuckles. I was halfway though my kick, all my momentum going forward and my full weight in my attack, so there was nothing much I could do.

One of the blades fell quickly towards my knee. I turned my leg so that my boot was vertical, the connection with her leg would be reduced with the bigger surface area but it was the only way to save my only means of movement. The dagger grazed the outside of my knee and stung like a bitch. Althanas has a way of making the pain so much more vivid, and my god did I feel it. The other blade was waiting for my leg as it flew through the air… as if that would stop it.

I crashed into that one too, which dug through my jeans, skin, and tapped the front of my shin bone. That one hurt more than the first, but the momentum was too much to stop the kick. It hit her, but barely, and glanced off as I pushed my weight forward. I wasn’t going to give her an advantage like she wanted, or jump away and get my own blades out. By god, if I was that close it would go with the flow and see what came of it. Besides, all I had was daggers too… and nobody wins in a knife fight.

So I planted my leg in a weird position, just off to her side. The sudden weight on the wounds made them flare a bit, but not enough to distract me. I threw my hands up and reached out for the upper arms of the slim woman, hoping to keep her daggers away from my sides when I closed. At the same time I threw my head forward like everyone's hero Zidane back in the 06 World Cup. Fuck the Italian, I’d do it and not have to worry about a red card. Luckily I knew how to headbutt from years of soccer, and my hairline was headed right for the top of her nose and the edge of one of her eyebrows. A blow there would break the nose, causing a lot of tears, or break the brow and make the blood drip into her eyes.

[Vicious]

Her blades, if they could shiver would have from the pure joy of cleaving into flesh. Both had connected, but sadly he was a quick kid, twisting the way he did would have probably thrown most people to their flanks. A laugh erupted from her as they touched, his body lurching forward again, this time she could figure only on a couple courses of action that he would want to pull.

There had once been a man that had tried to push her back when she had spit in his face. All that he ended up with were a pair of bloody stumps. Once again Vicious tried the same move that had served her then, fliping them both up in a sort of blocking move, meaning to bring the blades across his wrists, but she was sadly off balance from his hands suddenly griping her arms.

She could feel his harsh grip, which were probably going to leave some very nasty bruises in the morning. The feeling of her legs no longer being her support was a feeling that always made her heart jump and everything she knew about fighting really kick in. the blades still moved, but instead of the wrists, she could see his neck lurch back before the whole of his head launched forward. A maneuver she had used a number of times. Also one that she had at her disposal now, but also a harsh lesson learned was that two head butts, a lot of pain for both makes.

Instead one blade moved up between his arms, the tip screaming strait up for his throat, maybe even deeper and through the lower jaw and strait into the skull. Her other went lower, aiming for his belly should it come close enough with the two of them moving as one, her body falling backwards, and hopefully his right with it, onto her anxious blades.

[Taskmienster]

I’ve seen a lot of fighting in my time on different servers, but the close interaction and the speed of reactions compared to thought was nearly perfect on Althanas. My movement wasn’t even constrained by server lag, allowing me to take advantage of my extra speed boost. Lucky for me, not so good for my opponent. My hands clenched firmly around her arms and I pushed them downwards so that she would have no space to build momentum to attack with her daggers at such a close range. She tried anyways, twisting her wrists to command the movement of the blades.

The first of the two went vertical, parallel to my body, and was undoubtedly aimed for my throat. The distance between her limited reach and my head was too great though, even for the elongated daggers. The blade was between our chests, not quite high enough to reach the bottom of my jaw. It was of little concern. The second blade twisted sideways, trying to slash open my stomach. But without space to work in the momentum could not be built. The surface area of the blade mostly pressed against my leather jacket and the secreted steel plates. I could feel a very small prick in the opening of the jacket, but it was barely enough to pierce the skin.

My head crashed into hers, sending a small flare of pain through my hairline but not enough to cause me to be dizzy or lose my balance. Instead I pushed my weight into my arms and hoped that with my advantage in weight I could throw her into the glass-lined edge of the cage. Even if it didn’t work, as soon as I let go a dagger dropped from up either sleeve and I was ready to finish her off.



(Just a note, at that distance a punch wouldn’t even have momentum enough to do damage. A dagger with that surface area really would just be little more than a sharpened metal rod, doing no damage to his stomach. The first one wouldn’t reach from the hip to the neck, because that is over 8 inches in length for someone that is 5’ 10”. Also, I bunnied the headbutt, but if you don’t want me to just get ahold of me and I’ll change it, though you gave me little to work with.)

[Raelyse]

Less detail as Taskmienster requested.

Vicious

Story

Continuity – 4 – You mentioned your history in spurts here and there, but it felt forced and didn’t entirely fit in with the rest of your writing at times.
Setting – 2 – You described the bar in your first few posts, then neglected to acknowledge it for the rest of the thread.
Pacing – 3 – Taskmienster felt that you powergamed a bit and I have to agree with him. While you didn’t completely overdo it, there were some times when what Vicious did stretched her abilities.

Character

Dialogue – 4 – Her inner monologues and speech didn’t seem to contribute to the writing as much as they could have. They weren’t out of character, but they weren’t that compelling either.
Action – 5 – Your actions represented Vicious well but you didn’t give me enough of her character to get a higher score.
Persona – 4

Writing Style

Technique – 3 – There were a few good metaphors here and there, but nothing that was really interesting or that really enhanced your writer.
Mechanics – 2 – There are a lot of sentence construction errors in your writing, as well as an odd letter missing from your words.
Clarity – 2 – It is quite difficult to comprehend what you are trying to convey sometimes.

Wild Card – 3

Total Score – 32


Taskmienster

Story

Continuity – 6 – I really like the virtual reality thing that you have going on. That said, I didn’t feel as if you as much to the table as you could have.
Setting – 4 – Just because Vicious neglects to acknowledge the setting, it doesn’t mean that you have license to do the same. You were slightly better, playing with the crowd at times but it still doesn’t do enough to deserve a better score.
Pacing – 4 –The fact that this thread is uncompleted let you down in this score.

Character

Dialogue – 6
Action – 6
Persona – 7

Writing Style

Technique – 6
Mechanics - 8
Clarity – 7.5

Wild Card – 3.5 – You wrote well in this thread and acknowledged the Corone Civil War but I felt that I had to deduct points because the thread was uncompleted. You could have at least made an effort to wrap it up with some form of conclusion when it became apparent that Vicious wasn’t going to respond.

Total Score – 58

Taskmienster wins 58 to 32!

Vicious gains 113 EXP and 40 GP!
Taskmienster gains 788 EXP and 60 GP!

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!

TASKMIENSTER LEVELS UP!