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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 2, 2016 9:13:00 GMT -7
It wasn't safe to walk alone in this part of town at night. Crime was rampant and a young man alone long after the sun was down was sure to be prey to the predators that stalked the night. Gilgamesh was counting on it. Hood pulled down to cover his face and gloved hands shoved deep into his pockets he wandered through the docks aimlessly. A simple, almost peaceful stroll through the night as he looked for trouble. He wouldn't have to look far.
Everyone knew about the Mermaid's Catch. A bar on the far side of the docks where workers went to drown away their sorrow. And a bar where the switchblade gang hung out. A small gang of thugs, mostly muggers and rapists. Emboldened by numbers and cheap alcohol. It was no surprise that when he passed it, alone that the shadows seemed to creep behind him with movement of the men while a drunken lout stumbled forward from in front of him.
"Hey buddy. Give me money to buy a drink."
The lout demanded with a wicked gap-toothed smile and the aroma of alcohol thickening the air as well as his words. He could hear chuckling from the shadows as several other large men stepped into the circle of light that the street lamp he found himself under illuminated in this dark night.
"Touch me again and you lose that finger."
Gilgamesh warned in a low growl, his hands smoothly sliding from his pockets.
"Whatcha gonna do about it punk!?"
The man, clearly not in the mood to be bossed around by a dumb kid in a stupid outfit jabbed at him again with his finger to make a point. But this time Gilgamesh sprang into action, a palm flying forward to collide with the finger bending it all the way backward with a sickening snap as part of the bone shattered and protruded from the flesh of his hand. The man screamed in pain as he stumbled backwards.
"YOU ARE FUCKING DEAD YOU LITTLE PUNK!"
He bellowed as two men from behind launched themselves at him. One armed with a bat and the other with a chain wrapped around his fist. In a flash Gilgamesh's body pivoted on his left leg as his right leg slammed into the chain wielding thug's head, slamming him into the bat user. Both men were sent flying at the wall of the Mermaid's catch. Both of his arms lifted up into something that these men had probably only ever seen in a kung fu movie, with both arms lifted up but hands pointed downward.
"It seems like your friends ditched you. How sad."
He smirked as the drunken lout backed away clutching his hand in agony, eyes wide in a mixture of fear and hatred. Good. He wanted that hatred. And he wanted that fear.
"Y-your one of those freaks aren't you!? Get the hell away from me!"
Eye's flashing in anger as his smirk twisted into a snarl at the man's words he'd move in faster than the poor drunk could register and before he knew it his uninjured left arm was being twisted and then pulled all the way backwards, dislocating his arm at the elbow before Gilgamesh kicked out the back of the man's right knee, twisting the arm further on his way down to his good knee.
"You know, I think I rather like you in this position. People like you should know their place." Gilgamesh spat to the side in disgust. "People like you sicken me."
The man's struggle to escape his grip was an effort in futility and after a moment Gilgamesh let out a long side.
"Truly pathetic."
Without further ceremony he'd push the guy forward and away from him. The man was able to catch himself with his good arm, but as he tried to find the strength to stand Gilgamesh's right leg was already rising up and with a loud smack of boot on bone, and then bone of pavement it was done. The pool of blood on the pavement would serve as a reminder to watch who you messed with to the man if he lived. And certainly to his little friends who were groaning in pain against the wall of the bar.
"Truly pathetic. The lot of you."
He said again with a deep sigh, his hands sliding back into his pockets as he turned to continue along the docks. Hope still lingering that there would be something out there that could give him a spark tonight. Because this little bout barely qualified as more than stretching.
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 2, 2016 19:34:32 GMT -7
Pandemoniums, especially pandaemonium supers, were stereotyped to be loud, flashy, and purposefully hard to miss. One would think that finding even a single super in the docks wouldn’t be hard, and generally it wasn’t - start shouting anti-super buzz phrases and someone’ll show up to punch your lights out within ten minutes. Finding one particular super among the thousands of people and equally as many hiding places was a whole other matter, however. Had it been Giza or Aurora she was looking for, she bet she’d be able to find them fairly quickly. This fellow had taken a good bit more searching but, with the help of a loud bar fight (she could tell already that this was totally a guy you wanted to mess with), Limen had at last found him.
The archer crouched on an old and decrepit building perhaps a city block away, moon to her back and an arrow knocked on her bow. The string released silently.
Her aim was true - the arrow was sent to whizz past Gilgamesh’s ear, a hair away from knicking skin, and bury itself in the wood shack behind him. Limen didn’t wait to see the actual outcome of her shot. Her message was sent - and would be awaiting the super in the form of a note tied to the arrow shaft. Instead, she ran for the edge of the building, sliding down an old and rusty fire escape ladder far enough until she could just drop to the ground. If something had gone seriously wrong and he was actually hit, she was pretty sure she’d be able to hear the aftermath.
The letter was written hastily on a white square of paper, and was knotted so as to be able to be unlooped from the arrow but was secure enough not to come off during flight. It read as follows:
“One of the Pandaemonium weapon dealers thinks you need to be taught a lesson, and they asked me to do it. Isn’t that funny? I laughed at their face for you. But then I realized I haven’t met you yet and figured you had to be interesting, so I came anyway.
That therefore makes this is a letter of challenge. - Limen”
She assumed Gilgamesh would be able to find and track the one moving figure in the rooftops, and so set her mind on finding a good place to fight. Lucky them, she knew just such a place one building down the road.
It was an old theater, built before the depression hit in the height of some millionaire's wallet. The building, once a standing testament to the arts of show and art deco style, was now waterlogged and missing half its hinges and windows. Most of the luminescent bulbs were shattered, and none were working. The old sign declaring the place’s name was all but unreadable. Limen leaned against the empty half of the double door frame, arms crossed, wide grin and gaze watching, and waited.
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 2, 2016 19:48:57 GMT -7
The sound of air breaking announced the arrow a moment before it whizzed past his cheek. Unflinching Gilgamesh remained where he was, his eyes scanning the direction that the arrow had come from. Scanning the rooftops, a giveaway thanks to the downward angle of the arrow's trajectory.
There.
In the distance a figure on the rooftop retreating back away from the ledge of her vantage point. Squatting down to rip the arrow out of the ground he'd read the note quickly, his nostrils flaring in annoyance though his lips curled into something that could almost be amusement. Someone wanted to challenge him. More than that, others were already targeting him. His Master would be pleased to hear that his true training had already begun. And when this first challenger was crushed beneath his heel it would only be a matter of time until bigger dogs started sniffing around. Whether it was more of his "comrades" in Pandemonium or not barely warranted notice. All that mattered was that anyone who dared challenge him was utterly destroyed.
Pressing his thumb against the shaft of the arrow he'd snap it before launching himself upward with a powerful jump to the closest rooftop. It seemed the chase was on, he would dart and whip across the rooftops chasing his challenger. Prepared to dodge or catch further arrows that may be fired at him as he pursued her to her chosen location.
Was it to be an ambush? Likely. But it didn't matter. His whole life has been spent fighting with a disadvantage. He would not falter under stacked odds. He would thrive!
Once their destination was reached he would leap down, landing in front of her, hood up to obscure the features of his face. His gloved hands clenched, the leather creaking as his knuckles popped.
"Accepted."
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 5, 2016 20:29:40 GMT -7
Limen didn’t so much as flinch when Gilgamesh landed on the ground. Her head cocked to the side, when he accepted, a wide grin flashed on her face.
“A friendly duel, then.” Limen confirmed, messing with her sleeves. Her bow rested over her shoulder, likely unneeded in the close-range fight she bet this was going to be. Copper-lined brass knuckles gleamed on her fingers. She looked darkly at her hands, a sly smile twisting out of her grin. “Too bad you’ve already fallen into my trap.”
Swinging one leg up and smoothly letting the rest of her body follow, Limen turned to stand parallel with the doorway. “Just kidding. If I was trying to hunt you, maybe, but I want to keep this civil, yeah?” She widened her stance and raised her arms defensively. Her smile was to teeth and her eyes were set on where his must be through the hood and hair. No mask, huh? The guy must have confidence if he thought a hood alone was enough to keep his identity a secret. “Since it’s my challenge, you get the first strike.” She said. “Show me what you’ve got, Gil.”
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 5, 2016 22:23:13 GMT -7
"Friendly..."
His lips twisted into a cruel smirk. She thought this was a friendly duel? A game? How childish. The type of person that would challenge a person like that, and not take it seriously was the type of person that didn't work for what they were. Someone born with a gift or a talent, taking it for granted. To have it thrown at him so casually was an insult to him. He wanted to wipe that smirk off her face. And it seemed like she was willing to give him the chance.
He'd click his tongue at her as he slowly approached. Bringing his arms up into a Muay Thai stance. A fantastic martial arts that was unique compared to most others because it utilized a lot of elbows and knee attacks along with kicks and punches. Most martial arts avoided a lot of strikes that Muay Thai uses because if done wrong you can kill your opponent. However one of the greatest strengths of the style was that if done correctly, you could kill your opponent.
"If you want to call yourself my friend, in any way you have to earn it."
He'd say as he lunged forward, his left knee rising up quickly with the momentum in an attempt to slam it right into the base of her chin. If it landed it's mark he'd follow it up with a right elbow as his foot landed back to the ground, his body rotating to the right keeping momentum with his blows.
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 5, 2016 22:55:00 GMT -7
Earn it, huh? The expression on Gilgamesh’s face said he was more likely to bite her nose off than be lying. He was already moving as he was speaking, leaving Limen with no time for a rebuttal. She spun to her right, dodging out of the way of his knee and possible next blows, but leaving herself in a poor position to strike back. Her arms were swung behind her back for balance and her left leg hovered slightly above the ground, pivoting around her other foot. “Oh ho? So anti-friend I can’t even call this match ‘friendly’?” She teased, continuing her spin until her back was to his.
What she wasn’t in a poor position for was running for the door. Limen shot Gilgamesh a wink over her shoulder. “You’re going to have to stop me, friend.”
And then she sprinted inside the half-empty doorframe. Her tennis shoes clacked against the sparkling granite floor, the one thing unrusted or unbroken enough to have any shine left in it. She’d been through this building a number of times - it was too cool to have not been - and so knew the layout fairly well. She had her ears tuned to the sound of other footsteps as she kept her eyes focused ahead, counting the doors she passed. This hallway was fairly long - she wondered how fast Gilgamesh could run. She was hoping that would be enough to get him to chase after her, but if not, it meant she had more time to prepare in the main theater. Either outcome suited her fine.
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 6, 2016 19:02:50 GMT -7
He would follow, but not in a bolting sprint but rather the slow methodical pace of a serial killer. He was in no rush. If she wanted to run and wear herself out he would let her. Even if she wanted to flee, it would just be another victory for him. Still, she had chosen this old theater for a reason and he was ready for the possibility of a trap.
If she was planning on catching him unawares she would likely be quite surprised.
Gilgamesh wasn't some hot head prone to rushing in without thought. He trained hard to not only hone his body but his mind and to keep himself in control of himself. Hatred and anger would make him stronger true, but only if properly channeled. It was his task as an artist to bend and manipulate his hatred to suit his goals and desires, not to let them rule him.
He'd listen intently for signs for where she was going. Footfalls turning, slowing down or stopping. His eyes were peeled looking for traps, wires, loose rubble. Spots that were less dusty than others. The idea of fighting in a theater intrigued him though, that was true. Though he doubted that she would supply the one thing to make such an arena truly worthwhile.
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 7, 2016 8:31:23 GMT -7
She could hear the slow click of shoes on the granite floor. Good, he was coming. Limen paused at the end of the hallway, coming to a stand before two large and heavy wooden doors, both in quite good shape, all things considered. One was locked and the top hinge on the other was broken, so it took a good (and not at all quiet) push to get it open. As soon as the crack was wide enough to accommodate both her and her bow, Limen slipped in.
The room was huge - large enough to fit several hundred in the old velvet seats, and built and layered so that there were no bad viewpoints for the wooden stage below. The ceiling was domed but it’d begun to crack and fall away. A large missing chunk in a corner over the stage was was main source of light in the otherwise dark room, and from it moonlight shone down through the thick dust. The stage itself was large enough for the biggest musicals and was made of fine and smooth wood, still sturdy even after the water damage from the rain. Most of the lights were broken, but a few wires, much younger than the surrounding area, ran from an electrical box in the wall up to some of the spotlights. One of her arrows bore into the wall beside it.
She would wait for him. Gilgamesh would find no traps in the hallway - that was not the point. She balanced atop the head of one of the chairs and, arms wide, greeted him. “Welcome to the Oriah Theater! It’s past its prime, but it’s still a great place as long as you don’t mind a bit of mold and spiders.
“Ah, but it’s a little dark, isn’t it?” She continued, messing with her sleeve. A proud expression on her face, Limen clapped twice. Four spotlights lit up, three white and one blue, focused on the stage. “Kind of empty, but I like the space.” She said cheerfully, lifting the bow set on the chair beside her.
With a single, fast motion practiced thousands of times, Limen raised the bow, drew and strung an arrow, aimed, and shot. The blunt arrow was aimed for Gilgamesh’s brow. Her draw was light enough that if it did hit the damage wouldn’t be worse than a punch to the face, but she would be surprised if it actually struck its target. More, she wanted to see his reaction time and see if he had any fancy tricks that might interfere with her archery.
As soon as the arrow left the string, Limen nimbly hopped onto the head of the chair one row up, then to the next. Her eyes didn’t leave Gilgamesh as she began her ascent via chair tops.
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It's a brand new me, I got no remorse
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 7, 2016 19:29:16 GMT -7
The scene amounted to what he expected of it. An old decrepit theater, time having worn away much of it's splendor. Once long ago this may have been quite the spot in this city. But now it was a forgotten relic in a city that was far to busy to appreciate the arts. The arts, they say were the heart and soul of a people. That you could feel the pulse of a civilization by looking at the art it produces. One could only imagine what that state of this place said about it's people.
Soulless.
Sick.
Dying.
Depraved.
Craven.
Unworthy.
Sometimes it was more than he could stand. People were pathetic and weak. Covering their eyes as rot consumed their city and soul. Turning a blind eye to the filth that they allow themselves to wallow in. Appealing to authority rather than making themselves heard on their own merit. Hiding behind weapons to make up for their own lack of willpower to better themselves. So content to slowly wither away, so content to just sit and die more and more each day. Unacceptable!
The arrow whizzed toward his face as his left hand flew upward snatching it out of the air, the tip of the arrow merely an inch from his face. His lips and jaw, the only part of his face not obscured at present were set in a clearly unamused manner. More disappointed than angry, though there was a distinct set of his jaw that spoke of frustration.
"A game of cat and mouse? And here I thought you actually had something interesting planned. How... disappointing."
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 7, 2016 23:00:08 GMT -7
Gilgamesh caught her arrow. Limen whistled - it’d been awhile since she’d seen anyone do that. That would count as something to mess with her archery.
Limen shrugged at his judgement of her little set up. “Dude, I’m an archer. I like to fight from a distance. That’s hard to do in a narrow doorway.” Limen said. “Catch up and maybe I’ll punch you back.” And she thought the theater was quite interesting, thank you very much.
Initially, Limen had planned to make this a fist fight. Given Gilgamesh’s rumored abilities, that seemed like the most fun course of action; taking him on in his realm of expertise. But then he went catching her arrows and she couldn’t let that challenge slide. If he did catch up, she would live up to her promise of using her fists and not her head, er, bow. For now, though, she was going to stand this nice distance away on the chair head.
“You call me a mouse, but I’m not prey.” She hummed. “I’m chasing you back, cat.”
Limen drew three arrows and strung one, holding the other two between her fingers, perpendicular to and at the front of her raised bow. She aimed, released, and strung the next before the prior one had hit its mark, until all three had been shot.The first was another blunt arrow, shot again at his head. Next, one with a point. This one was aimed for his right shoulder. While the first was a feint, one she expected to be caught just as before, the second would work fine whether caught or not. Upon being hit with a sudden force - i.e. stopping - it would release an electric shock from the tip down the metal shaft. The last was not aimed at him, per say. Limen shot the pointed arrow at the ground to his left. Much like the electric arrow, it would also activate upon its abrupt stop. Namely, this one would explode. It was a small explosion, used mostly for taking out a small hunk of rock or a lock in a door, but it was still a good blast.
“Hope you’re not thinking of leaving.” She said sweetly, relaxing her bow stance and balancing on one foot. “‘Cause I’ll shoot you in the back.”
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 8, 2016 22:13:37 GMT -7
"Chasing by fleeing." He hurled the arrow back at her as she drew her three arrows. When the first one was loosed from the bow instead of catching it he leaped forward, perching on the back of on of the chairs in the front row. He was not one to run away, and if she wanted to shoot at him he would show her that he was no easy mark. When the second arrow was loosed from the bow he would leap over it with a flip landing in the aisle before running toward her. Shen she fired the last arrow he leaped forward again right for her! He was unaware that the third arrow was explosive and thus made no effort to brace for the explosion. Opting instead to rotate his body midair as he closed the distance, his right leg shooting out for a powerful snap kick with the intent of not only shattering her bow, but following through to her head. (If the explosion is close enough to knock Gilgamesh off his path I leave up to you! I trust you to make that choice, because I don't want to negate all of your weapons. So you tell me if the blast is close enough with him jumping toward you.  ) |
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 9, 2016 21:33:53 GMT -7
Limen’s posture changed when she saw Gilgamesh flying towards her, fast enough that her final arrow flew too far left to be of affect (one of the chairs would be missing a top now, though). He was coming into melee, fast, and she was about to be attacked. Limen had time only to duck down to a crouch as Gilgamesh’s leg swung at her head. The bow was not so lucky, and taking the full brunt of the kick, was ripped from her hands. She heard it clatter to the ground several meters away. It’s condition was unknown, but judging on the amount of force she’d fetl in the hit, she’d probably need to start shopping for a new one. This is what she got for trying to act on the offensive - she should know by now that didn’t work well for her against supers.
Limen leaped backwards from her couch, flipping herself gracefully back several rows with several jumps. She came to stop atop another chair, her stance low and ready to spring again. “There goes that plan.” She chuckled. Her eyes were locked on Gilgamesh. Watching his movements was key, and she couldn’t afford to miss a single one of his.
From the quiver on her back Limen drew a simple pointed arrow. She rolled its metal shaft between her fingers and her brass knuckles, grasping it so its point rested between her index and middle fingers and the shaft rested against her forearm.
Limen cracked her neck. “You going straight for the kill shots?” She asked with a grin. “Noted: Gil will attempt to decapitate you over a casual fight.” The arm holding the arrow was tense, ready to make a stab if Gilgamesh came back into melee. She’d aim for the shoulder or chest with what would be a single reactionary jab, but anywhere would do.
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It's a brand new me, I got no remorse
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 10, 2016 8:07:00 GMT -7
"Are you so weak that a single blow will kill you?"
Interesting thing to pick up from the weapon and explosive user. Perhaps she wasn't a super at all considering that even now she was trying to stack her odds with weapons. But that was fine, he wasn't going to call foul on her for it. Because in the real world fights were not fair, and the strong didn't complain that they didn't have an advantage in a fight. He would just deal with whatever was thrown at him, that was the only option in battle.
Gilgamesh would indeed return to melee range, giving Limen a chance to use her weapons if that was really going to be her plan. He circled around before dashing in. His right palm shooting out to try and strike low, right for her kidney, it wouldn't kill her if the blow struck but if she wasn't durable she might find herself peeing blood later. Her stab with the arrow would be able to land it's mark, he wouldn't even make an attempt to dodge or block it.
Perhaps it was because he couldn't. Or maybe it was because he was confident that she could not hurt him. Not if she was worried about dying to a kick. And he wanted to drive that fact home to her. Though that fact remained to be untested until this blow. Limen would find that his flesh and muscles were hard, far harder than normal and his body felt like steel when she struck it. However, should she posses some super strength or means of additional force the arrow would be able to sink in to his flesh!
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Pandaemonium
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Post by Limen on Jun 13, 2016 15:12:39 GMT -7
It was startling when the arrow didn’t stab into Gilgamesh’s shoulder. Odd, (what was his skin made out of, rock?) and disappointing given she had to divide her movement between the stab and raising her arm in an attempt to block Gil’s own strike. She was too slow to deflect it, instead only managing to somewhat intercept with her arm, dividing the force of the blow between her forearm and side. Both stung with the blow; a cough escaped her lips.
But just because the arrow didn’t pierce his skin didn’t mean the attack was over. As soon as she felt the arrow make contact, she clenched her other fist. An electrical current would travel through her, into the arrow, and ultimately end in Gilgamesh. The voltage was not enough to cause any major internal harm, but it’d be plenty to stun a normal person. Plus it would hurt.
Limen’s next and reactionary action was to leap back one and then two seat heads. She tenderly touched her injured side. She could tell it was already bruising. “Ouch.” She chuckled. “I was right, you do have power to back up that dark mysterious aura of yours.”
She swung herself up to stand on a single foot. “Maybe ‘kill’ is a bit dramatic,” she said, setting her other foot firmly down on the head of the chair, “but not all of us have fancy stone skin. I gotta be careful with my head you know.”
And in being careful, Limen did not go in for another strike. Instead, she took off down the row of chairs at full sprint, arrow still firmly in her hand. If she could get to the far floorboards of the stage...
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Post by Gilgamesh on Jun 13, 2016 16:28:43 GMT -7
The arrow wasn't strong enough to pierce his flesh it seemed, his body hardened by his Master's training was beyond her and her abilities. The match was already decided with that simple fact. He knew now that she could not hurt him, she was no threat. Until the electricity struck. Taken by surprise he let out a gasp of pain as he stepped back from shock and reflex, allowing her plenty of time to leap back several seats without reprisal. His lips twisted into a scowl as she commented on his flesh.
"I'm flesh and bone, not my fault you are weak."
His words were spat at her through gritted teeth, chasing after her as she sprinted for the stage. He was attempting to cut her off and get ahead of her, preferably with another roundhouse kick for her ribs to send her flying back. But that would all depend on if he could catch her or not.
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