Alleyway Brawl [Closed]

[Hysteria]

A gentle breeze moved through the alley, a few leaves danced around each other lazily as they made their slow journey between the stone buildings. Their quite sojourn interrupted by the piles of refuse that had over time built up. The alley was three metres wide, with enough space for a horse and cart to move down once upon a time. Now the trash piles made the traversable section only a metre wide. There was all manner of junk strew around. Broken chairs, cups, hessian bags filled with spoiled food and all manner of cast away crap. It provided the perfect breeding ground for rats, and nests of the creatures could be found in most of the bigger piles.

Talen stepped out of the back door of the tavern. The back of the building had a slightly wider space in the alley, but it too had succumb to the trash build up. The youth walked calmly around a stack of smashed chairs and into the alley. The un-scenic, and slightly septic location had been chosen by Talen as the best place to solve bar fights. It wasn't uncommon for people to barge into the Tavern, known to be the hang out of the Red Six and issue a challenge. More often that than not, the challenge would have the snot beaten out of them and end up joining. It was the circle of life, as Talen would have called it.

The youth twisted, pulling his sleeves up theatrically to show his intent. Talen wasn't your normal bar patron, he looked like he should either be out the front begging or around the back breaking in. His hair was black and eternally messy, suiting his lassifare attitude. His spark in this situation spurned on by the casual threat to one of the bar maids. Talen liked bar maids.

“Before the beating beings, what is the name of the man who has the honour of being taught a lesson by me?” said Talen.

The words seemed opposed to the child-like body they came from. True as it was that Talen looked like a thirteen year old, it was rare now that many people did not know his name, and his current face in some way. The rise of the Ixian Knights, and two appearances in the Cell had seen to that.

[Andy Rorton]

“Talen Shadowalker,” The voice escaped from the inside of the bar, the long form it belonged to following suit. He was a muscular man in a black trench coat, two odd looking weapons at his hips. His boots clicked against the ground as he turned his head towards his opponent, his green eyes zoning in on the small form before him. This man cracked his knuckles as the child started to laugh a bit.

“No, no, no,” the lad said between chuckles, “Talen Shadowalker is –my- name. I was asking about yours, Mr. Legend Hunter.”

“Legend Killer, actually,” he retorted, “And the names Rorton. Andy Rorton.” He winced his nose at the smell of all the garbage. He could hear the rats and roaches scuttling along the bags of trash, even the occasional cat’s meow. His eyes shifted towards the junk, his hand reaching towards his right side and unfurling his whip. He grabbed the weapon’s hilt and snapped his snake-like rope upon the ground, releasing a satisfying crack.

Andy Rorton knew of Talen Shadowalker, reviewed his abilities in both Cells as well as his many feats with the Ixian Knights. The kid was a living legend, something most little ones aspired to be once they hit the teenage year. However, Talen Shadowalker was an exception to the rule, a little one who made a name for himself through sheer grit and determination. He was just the kind of person Andy would not have minded copying an ability from.

The gunslinger snapped his whip once more, this time using it to his the plastic over a sealed up garbage bag. The gross, garbage juice soaked contents of the trash came spilling out, revealing all sorts of miscellaneous half-eaten food and soiled knick-knacks. Andy locked eyes with Talen, cracking his whip once more at one of the refuse items, a cloth diaper that, judging from the way the flies swarmed around it, was filled with so much fecal matter that it was just easier to dispose of than reuse. The angle at which he hit the diaper sent it flying directly towards Talen, Andy smirking at the youth as he made his opening move.

“Show me what the Red Six has to offer, Mr. Shadowalker!”

[Hysteria]

“Ewww.”

The youth twisted so he was standing side on to Andy. He lowered his body, one hand hanging limply at the wrist pointed towards Andy, the other point behind the youth. His stance was low, relaxed, and stunk of pretentious martial arts. Darkness lifted like steam off the youth's body, forming a dark haze hanging in a line between his hands. The diaper was possibly the most foul attack thrown at the youth, right up there with diseased blood. The boy straightened up as he twisted on the spot, using the small space allotted to him easy with the turn. The diaper hit the darkness as it turned. Darkness cradled the projectile faeces, the youth turning easily and letting it slide off and onto the pile of garbage to his side. The boy brought himself back to his lower stance.

“Legend killers throw poop do they now? Perhaps you've change too many diapers to know a true attack?” Talen smiled, “Welcome to darkness.”

With the simple statement shadows spewed forth from ever corner. They bubbled and churned through the ally and engulfed both fighters in a wave of pitch black darkness. Talen smiled and closed his eyes as the last rays of light touched his face. From inside the shadow illusion it was a like being in a thick black fog. The youth didn't bother trying to make out anything with his eyes. Instead his body released another cloud of darkness. This one was finer, invisible to normal eyes. It spread out around him creating a fifteen metre sphere with the youth in the centre. The darkness this time was like an extension of the youth's body. He could feel anything within the radius.

“I have to say, I don't like having poop thrown at me. You want to know what the Red Six has to offer? Pah! What do you have to offer? Mr Legend Killer.” The youth spat the last two words through the darkness. Arrogance was his department, no one elses.

[Andy Rorton]

"Of course legends sling shit at one another," Andy retorted, a slight smirk on his face, "Haven't you ever been involved in politics?" His expression remained unchanged as the darkness overwhelmed the smaller form of Talen. The cloud of black would have done well to intimidate a normal person, but Andy Rorton was a man who was laser focused on his ideals. Shadowalker would prove to him that the Red Six was worth his time and presence, or he would find himself dead in an alley like so many homeless people.

"You don't know much about my culture, do you Shadowalker? My people have spent centuries perfecting our techniques. I am the first one brave enough to venture out and put them to use. I not only can steal abilities from people, I can give them to others as well. So as far as what I have to offer you, I think my skills speak for themselves, or at least, they will.." Andy reached to his side and grabbed the six-shooter that was held at his hip.

He aimed the weapon at the black cloud that the shadow master had made, and released a single bullet into the fog. Andy Rorton was a man who erred on the side of caution, careful not to fall head first into something he knew nothing about. By launching a single shot towards where he had last seen the 'child', Andy was simply testing the waters to see just how dangerous the Red Six leader really was. He gripped the handle of Flair with his other hand, prepared to strike like a snake at anything that popped out of the darkness.

[Hysteria]

Talen didn't bother to reply. If he had it would have only shown his naivety. The youth had never been in a situation where political prowess was required. Although some might assume that his penchant for accumulating information from the shadows mirrored some political intrigue story, in truth he left how that information was spun to others far more vocally gifted than he.

The bullet was a different matter. It was fast, direct and deadly. The moment it entered the sphere surrounding Talen the youth reacted. He could feel it moving, is impressive speed matching against his. Of the options, Talen chose the hardest. His hands closed towards each other, pushing the darkness strung between them together. Like a sponge it folded under the pressure becoming harder the more it compressed. The youth lifted its shadowy form towards the bullet.

“Aaarh!” Screamed the youth from inside the darkness, followed a second later by the sound of his form collapsing on the ground. The shadowy field that he had encased himself in started to slowly dissipate. Thin wisps of darkness dissolved into the air and from within the decreasingly dark confines a dark figure could be seen slumped on the ground.

Above Andy Rorton was something else. Talen hovered effortlessly between the tall stone buildings the walled their makeshift fight. His eyes were passive, watching as the darkness slowly cleared around the illusion of his own slumped body. The youth didn't wait for the shadows to clear enough for his bluff to be revealed. He lent forwards and arched towards his opponent with his arm out stretched. His hand, normally as pale as the rest of his skin glowed a with a dark luminescence. It was charged with the dark shadow energy of his body, ready to release it in a catastrophic blast to whatever he wished. Right now, he wished that to be Rorton.