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Ashur It's a cool afternoon in Jack's Town; the sun burns the dusty earth and the wind scatters it, leading great gouts of brownish smoke to march along the wasteland. Those who have no need to be outside in the dust wisely come inside-- and what better place to sit a spell in this town than the fight club? Two dozen or so locals are here to spectate and bet, and the crowd filters in and out with a steady climb toward increase; as afternoon turns to evening, and the drinking really begins in earnest, this place will pack.

In a small changing room, off to the side, Ashur stands with his Kurokumo. There's a mark on his arm from where she injected a stimpak into him-- the man's pupils have dilated, golden skin flushed, as the marvel of genetic engineering flows through him. Before her eyes, small cuts mend, skin unbruises, and his breathing becomes steadier, stronger; he rides an adrenaline high as his body reconstructs itself.

"Good girl," he praises in animal rumble, patting her head. "After the scorpion machine and the demon, I was unsure how well my body would work; my vigor is restored. I feel invincible-- this contest will be the perfect way to test its potency."

He leans in to kiss her brow, and then strides out to the staging grounds. She might recognize the outfit he's wearing now: boots, loincloth, and his old Legion cloak, a red and worn thing with the golden bull of Caesar. Think a Spartan from 300, because that's exactly the sort of image the fight club announcer wanted to present. Tonight's event: fight until you lose or quit, all comers.

Men are already engaged in the paint circles. Ashur will step in soon.
Kurokumo Mibojin      Ahh, the miracles of pre-modern society. Kurokumo watches as the fluid works wonders, her hand placing the Stimpack back into it's Medkit hanging on her shoulder. She looks worried, since it's much too soon for Ashur to be up and about, let alone fighting. He's still going to go, wether she wants him to or not. "Be safe." She whispers, knowing that once he's in the ring, someone is probably going to be beaten senseless or killed by his skilled hands.
Eden Eden peeks around the corner and sees the changes. Her eyes widen a bit, just watches the massive man, wondering. She's excited to see him fight.. and working up the courage to talk to him again.
Ashur Ashur embodies the tribal Legion stereotypes-- oh, no, he looks nothing like they do in reality. The repurposed football pads of old America do not adorn him; there are no spikes protruding from his shoulders, no helmet upon his head, no metal bracing his limbs. But he looks like the wild fantasy those who have only heard of the Legion in stories imagine: a hulking brute, bursting at the seams with muscle and primal strength, a barbarian whose back-length braids swirl around him as he storms into one of the painted circles, cloak fluttering out behind, the loincloth he wears leaving.. absolutely nothing to the imagination. He seethes, paws the ground like a bull, snorts-- he's feral, with his face twisted into a fierce expression.

It's show. As always, whenever Ashur visits this place, the announcer took him aside and requested he play up the Villainous Barbarian Legionnaire, to excite the spectators.

"Degenerate scum," he spits, lifting his arms and pacing the circle. "I have come once more, to this pit of the forsaken, to humiliate you yet again. Which of you drunken wretches is man enough to stand before me?"

He does love playing the heel.

"Come, eunuchs, and suffer me now."

A few of those gathered grumble. A couple cheer-- they understand it's just a story, a play-along to make it more fun.
Saeko A fight club with a favouring towards Caeser's legion? Well, the combatants are almost certainly all going to be male. But just because Saeko couldn't compete doesn't mean that the asian woman had nothing she could learn from observing the skirmish. Once more wrapped in that cloak that concealed both figure and gear, she made her way into the stands with those eyes, the sole indicator of her mixed ethnicity, sweeping over both faces and forms familier. Despite the different attire, Ashur is easily enough recognized and soon Saeko finds herself standing by Kurokumo, speaking up lightly. "Recent battle was clearly not enough?"
Kurokumo Mibojin      "It never is." Kurokumo replies bitterly, acknowledging Saeko's presence as she watches the song and dance of this grand spectacle. She almost lost Ashur that day, watched him die under the crushing weight of the Gattling Scorpion. He had recovered, mirculously enough, but it still haunts her at night. "How are you holding up?"
Eden Eden walks up to get a closer look, winds up standing near Kurokumo. Not really sure how to introduce herself, She takes a deep breathe and shyly say "so I guess you two are betting on him?"
Konno     Konno heard something about a fight club on his way in from the highway. Enough people talking about it from the street for him to slink into the club itself and investigate. A nice sized crowd riled up, someone burly on stage making calls.
    For the time being, Konno is content to watch and see how this goes down. If it looks good he might step into the ring.
Ashur "Oh, shut your ass, mouthfuck," drawls a pot-bellied man, taking a swig from a bottle of ambiguously alcoholic fluids. He hiccups, hands the bottle to his friend, and swaggers into the ring with a jiggle. "You think you're tough 'cause you were in the Legion? Hah! We kicked their asses a few months ago. I put a bullet in a guy that looked a lot like you. Mighta been your sister, huh?"

The drunk and his friend laugh, as the announcer takes quick bets. Unfortunately, the crowd does not share the man's liquid courage. The announcer, in his fine suit, raises his voice:

"Our first challenger! Come to put down the bane of Jack's Town, the dog of Caesar, the Legion's bull-- give a round of applause for.."

He trails off, looks to the man, who burps. "Steven."

"... for STEVEN!"

Steven walks forward and delivers a solid-looking haymaker. Ashur leans back. Steven goes off-balance, and with a flick of the wrist, Ashur backhands the drunk right out of him. He blinks, stumbles, and the Legionnaire smacks him a second time, so hard his head spins right 'round and the flesh gives a nasty welt-inducing cracking sound, probably busting the jaw.

Steven twirls and falls over onto his stomach.
Saeko "Fighting the drunk and the foolish," Saeko comments from where she stands beside the other asian woman, a healer and a killer side by side watching the pit fight. "Were that every battle out there so easy."

A shake of her head, she shifts her weight lightly and crosses her arms over her chest, disrupting the lines of her cloak ever so slightly. "Still, if there is money to be made from it..."
Kurokumo Mibojin      When the men enter the ring to pummel each other, Kurokumo tenses and leans forward. It looks like she's about to belt out something loud and angry, before 'Steven' is knockes out cold. Somehow, the Doctor looks a little dissappointed. "Yeah, Ashur is good to bet on." Her tone is wry, but there's also that look of relief that her bull of a man isn't getting stiches torn this time around.
Konno     Woo, this looks like fun! Enough that Konno's gonna toss in his part. With STEVEN knocked down, the blue-haired lad sashays his way around the people present to bring himself up to the ring with a friendly gesture.

    "Let me have a shot next." he half purrs in request to the announcer. Those punches looked punishing, perfect way to whet the mettle though!
Konno     While Konno spends a brief moment waiting for mister Steven to get his universally kicked ass off the ring he flicks a palmsized folding mirror from one of his pockets for a brief assessment of how he was looking. Going into a fight like a dreg isn't very conducive to fun.

    But with everything checking out he hardly even spends a care about Steven's being taken down yet or not, and it's time to put on a show.

    "Hey there~" Konno chimes, "I'm Doctor Blue, and tonight you are going to have the pleasure of me putting a spell on you!" he continues on with a sultry wink and an exaggerated blow of a kiss with a curtsie towards Ashur.
Ashur The crowd drags poor beer-gut Steven out of the painted circle. There's a few laughs, a few jeers-- a fight like that can barely be called such, and it doesn't get their blood pumping, even if it tickles to see a local drunk get manhandled. The crowd sees it as an amusing warmup.

Ashur does not look half so entertained. His lip curls back to expose sharp teeth, golden eyes narrowed as he stares at his beaten foe. "Put down like a rabid fucking dog," he spits, lifting his head with a toss of his braids. "You spineless, pathetic lot. I've fucked women who leave bigger marks. Come forth!"

At this, Konno comes, and Ashur gives him a look. It's all full of disdain-- the bull snorts, nostrils flaring, rolls back those expansive shoulders, and straightens out his spine. He looms, larger than life, the sculpted expanse of his chest and stomach bared for all to see. The loincloth.. it still really doesn't hide anything at all. The red cloak twirls.

"The only man among you is a womanly fop," he sighs, clenching a fist. "Come then, boy-whore. I will be the last man to make you whimper."
Saeko The one to bet on...but Saeko's not blind to those wounds. A pause of a thought and she nods to Kurokumo. "I hope you are good at your trade Doctor, I may need your skills in a moment." With that, she replaces her mask over her face and steps towards the side of the ring, moving towards the fight promoter. Whomever the victor is? It seems Saeko is willing to test her mettle.

Foolish? Almost certainly. But even the 'Kunoichi' can't count on the element of suprise in every fight. Might as well learn somewhere that doesn't end with her being dead.
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kumo watches curiously at the new contender entering the ring. She cringes, the delicately appearing man pitting himself against Ashur having no real chance in her mind. Does he? She turns to Saeko, whispering conspiratorily. "Get a load of the new guy..." And then the woman is gone, mask sliding into place as she goes to make words with the promoter. "Yeah, I'll patch you up, too..."
Konno     Konno seems absolutely ecstatic about the commentary from Ashur. "The only opponent for a real man should be someone that deals with real men." he chimes, "I hope you hit harder than you retort!"

    His first strike is absolutely, downright playful. It's an open-palmed shove riding on a skip to the face, apparently belying too much and prompting Ashur to avoid. The followup is catching himself and giving a flagrant twirl to slam a closed fist to the midsection, he gives a failed "Whoops!" and staggers backwards a hair. "So much testosterone in the air, I got a bit hazy!" in apology to his opponent.
Ashur Part of the dialogue is Ashur playing the antagonist for the crowd. Piss them off enough, and they get invested in seeing him fall-- especially once the liquor flows! The anger makes the fighters bolder, and gets the bets flowing more freely.

The other part is that he spent his entire life in the Legion, and homosexuality is not something the Legion smiles upon. It is shameful to be penetrated; weak and womanly. Any man caught submitting himself like that for the lust of another would be put down as an unfit soldier.

"Deviant," he snarls, and he lashes out with a quick three-strike combo-- jab, jab, hook, little force put into any of the strikes. "You belong on a cross. Where's your pride?"
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kurokumo is continuing to gawk at the men in the ring, Konno having made it much longer than other contenders. Ashur looks...angry. And not the typical level of haughty arrogance but real gnawing, simmmering loathing. She's tense, the crowd around her jeering and booing in their inebriated states.
Konno     Konno's hit twice in that threepart, the first jab has enough momentum on his frame to inch away from the second, but the hook hits him clean with a decidedly deviant sound to sell the following lines.

    "My pride is in making a good show." the line is followed with a quick attempt to grasp Ashur's arm- but the hook too fast for Konno to get a grip in the end, even if he caught the arm. "I'll have you know I've dealt with legion clients. A soothing voice, a little healing powder, and waiting to flag down their reinforcements to clean up went a long way." the slippery queer chimes.
Saeko Perhaps she'll be permitted to fight, perhaps not, but the japanese woman rests now by the ring watching the fight between the pair, currently reaching under her cloak to remove her weapons and keep them close-by. She wouldn't be bringing her bow, blades or otherwise into the ring. That probably wouldn't go over all that well with the audience after all.
Eden Eden is utterly facinated by the fighting. She has never in her little sheltered life seen anything like this. Intoxicating, and she hasn't had a drink. She knows she is staring and closes her mouth. She cannot believe that the smaller one has lasted so long against this mammoth. Is making him angry working
Ashur When the Legionnaire's arm is grasped, his face contorts in a look of pure and primal disgust-- he snarls out loud, bestial, and rips that massive limb free. A moment passes and the flamboyant boy degrades the Legion.. something, admittedly, Ashur has done plenty of times himself-- but they're his people, it's okay. This.. creature is not allowed.

He sucks in a deep breath and shoves the man back, hefting up his right hand. A growl, a step in, and he hammers it into his torso with damn near lethal force. "Be silent," he seethes and commands, "and forfeit."
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kurokumo blinks, the dance unraveling before her is something unheard of. Ashur is demanding that the blue-haired man forfeit? Konno continues his mocking and cojoling, and it makes her wonder about his past as well. Rubbing her stomach absently, she pulls in her breath to bellow, before it woshes out silently. She can't. She simply...can't.
Konno     Konno's smacked rather hard and gives a decidedly not-manly sound in reply, squirming of his lower limbs and jittering of fingers. A cough of red is offered in tandem, followed with a delighted and exasperated gasp.

    "I was right, you really can hit in a ringer." he offers, not expecting a sweeping kick to mean much in his midsection-favouring state to mean much, Konno wings a heavy kick around and sticks it into a twirl to find his balance.

    "Care to give me another? Enough to write home about, another good hit for me~" he requests, taking time to wipe up the red from his face and suckle it off of his fingers with hazy eyes.
Ashur For all his anger, Ashur is holding himself back-- not giving into that fury, the blood-rage of Mars that would see the pain fade and his attacks gain a brutal supremacy. Perhaps, on some level, he worries he would actually murder this man. Regardless, the next few blows are fruitless, tight and sharp swings the dandy nevertheless avoids with all nimbleness. His breathing is heavier, more from mental labor than physical exhaustion.
Konno     Konno being light on his feet in waiting for that next hit. He wasn't going to GIVE Ashur that hit, and with him being spry and dainty he twirls off the second murderfist to slam home a single backfist against the beefy ex-Legionnaire with a bemused groan.

    "Come on, you know it's bad luck to keep your doctor waiting." Konno chimes lyrically in tease, "My knees are weak and my head is light, bowl me over and finish this night!"
Kurokumo Mibojin      Watching entranced, the Asian wife of Ashur's can't bear to look away from the train wreck that's happening before her. Konno is much too sry on his feet, and her husband's reactions are slower than they should be. She knew it was too soon for him to be up and about, but Ashur never listens.
Ashur The strike doesn't even hurt. That's the most insulting part. This fucking faggot is taunting him, spitting on his previous call for mercy and emasculating him in front of a crowd-- responding to hits hits like they're lover's caresses, and then smacking him with the back of his hand like one would an errant wife.

The bull sees red. There's a sick fire in his blood and he lunges forward, hands balled into fists hard as rocks, his movements quicker, more decisive. He smashes himself into the dainty fellow and begins to swing again and again, his growl so twisted by fury it's barely human.

This is going to become an attempted murder. If Konno can't handle himself, someone really ought to step in.
Konno     Those did it allright. Konno's been being spry but it seems the bull is going to give Konno another set of ringers to send him squealing and probably glad his bodysuit's very, very snug under those jeans.

    "You really do live up to the mantle of the bull~" Konno teases, taking in a long swallow of red that'd come up. Next thing is he has a hand digging around the front of his jeans, a few clicking sounds, and a flash of metal before his firing arm aims a ways above the entrance to the room.

    The characteristic 'chik, BOM-chichichichichichichi' of hookshot firing, finding its mark above the doorframe, and yanking Konno away follows the flash of weapon.

    "Next time we do this, I'm gonna charge, Y'hear!" Konno shouts as he's whisked away to the door and ducks out.
Ashur In the midst of rage, Ashur still has enough presence of mind to have no idea what the hell just happened. The behemoth is hunched over, spine twisted, legs bent and knuckles to the ground, breathing and collecting his wits. A forced calm and weariness settle on him like a funerary shroud, the bestial fire in his eyes deadening and cooling. He stands. Turns. And stalks right out of the circle, forfeiting without a word. Let someone else try their luck.