Insane Fighting Arena - Championships

[AcidK]

Announcer One:Yes, it is that time again and yes, we're hoping to finish this one!

*Nudging sound, coarse whispering before:*

Ynten: Ahem... Yes, the Insane Fighting Arena Championships is opening once again! Here is your host and referee again for a Sixth Championships! AcidK!

*Bursts of flame, clouds of smoke and then, after the music had stopper and the smoke gone, a very cindered-looking AcidK stands there.*

AcidK: A little less flame next time... Yes, it is that time again when eight of our most eager and most talented fighters step into the IFA-C arena to prove that they are indeed worthy of a good fight. We understand that each fighter may or may not have mutual respect for each other, it just makes it more interesting when they fight each other!

As usual, the fights are not about who wins or looses nor whom has more power than the other. The arena is about Style, Aggression, Control and Damage. Each of these will be closely watched and scored by our panel of judges, lets say hi to them all, folks!

Ynten Craal: Monitors Style of fighting and Post Quality. Ynten's word is final in the IFA-C Arena, as she reveiws the other judge's scores and reasons (that and she owns the IFA).
Narcaleptic Frog: Once aGodmod Arena icon and ex-Champion of the first IFA-C (by Ynten), NC will be monitoring Control and Aggression, he will also be helping Ynten with Post Quality.
Mighella: A very well respected Semifinalist of the first IFA-C (by Ynten), Mig will be reveiwing Damage and will also be helping NC for reveiwing Control.

There are, as always, Rules of the IFA-C:

1. No Vehicles of any kind
2. No overdoing moves or powers (ie, no Nukes, FIDOs, Extreme Psychics, Overpowering Magic, etc)
3. Player vs Player only, no outside help.
4. Attacking the referee or opponent AFTER the referee has announced the end of the fight and slit the combatents up will result in the offender being ejected from the Championships
5. Battles will last approximatly 72 Hours from when it started (3 days)
6. If a player fails to turn up to the first battle, back-up players can stand in
7. If a player fails to turn up to the Final, a semi-finalist will take his/her place
8. Have Fun!

Each combatent has their own personal private-box where they can watch the battle below. When the time comes they will be transported to the two combatent doors: The Rusty side and the 'other' side, known in IFA-C as the 'Opponents Side'. As usual, there can only be eight main combatents and two back-up players, just in case a players doesn't show up during the first battle. Let the mayhem begin!



----------------------------------------------------
IFA and IFA-C Owner: (she requested this)
Ynten

Announcer/Host/Referee
AcidK

Judges:
Ynten - Post Quality and Style
Narcaleptic Frog - Post Qulaity, Aggression and Control
Mighella: - Damage and Control

Players:
1. Bakan
2. Disrupter
3. Shadow275
4. Wraith
5. Inspectre -Ex-Champion
6. Ryon Jkar
7. Heiro
8. Flapjack

Back-Up Players:
1. Fluffie
2. Radek 559

[Bakan]

I'm in, will decide on which character to use later.

[Shadow275]

Meh, char, as always, later.

[Disrupter]

do you have to be a "veteran" to fight?

if not then im in, and my character will follow after my answer.

[AcidK]

No veteranship required. If you think you can beat the players joining, then you're in. Good luck tho.

[Wraith[x]]

Oooh
Oooooh
OOOOOOOOHHH
Can I be a surrealist?

[Inspectre]

Consider me a contender. Defending champion again, by default victory, no?

Please, don't crush meh dreams.

[Ryon Jkar]

Im in.

[Heiro]

Me too, if there is space...

[flapjack]

and I believe this makes 8
I'm in

[Fluffie]

Back up. Yo.

[AcidK]

sry, Inspectre, no-one's champion atm, you're an ex-champion though (besides, Fluffie beat you last Championship in the semi's)

[No Dachi]

I probably won't be participating, but I do intend to watch the procedings closely

[Heiro]

Damn. People actually plan on reading it :|

Right. Best start working on something vaguely... good to read. At least.

[AcidK]

AcidK: Okay, the contenders are in and Ynten has personally shuffle them around to their respectful places! Here is Quarter-Final order:

Inspectre vs Flapjack
Disrupter vs Ryon Jkar
Shadow275 vs Wraith
Heiro vs Bakan

The first match will begin momentarily, but first, a word from our sponsor...

*A picture of Ynten appears and then looks blank at the screen. Behind her was a moving horizen of the Psychic Academy.*

Ynten: Is it on? Ah, yes... People attending and watching the Insane Fighting Arena Championships! It is my honour to be speaking here once more to wish our new line of condendants the best of luck. Without further ado, I hereby call the first match of this Championships! Inspectre and Flapjack, please prepare ready for your match!

*The screen turned off and was replaced by a split-screen event, looking at the two entrances. AcidK was now standing in the centre of the Arena, a podium had erected itself out of the water and glass below, dripping still.*

AcidK: Ladies, Gentlemen and Assorted! In the Rusty Corner, weighing more than a fork-lift truck can hold, our resident Golden Dragon... Flaaapjaaack

*Fire burst from the door just before the ready-room suddenly opened out to reveal Flapjack, ready or not. When the music stopped, AcidK continued:*

AcidK: And his opponent, weighing a lot less than the fork-lift itself. Ex-Champion of the Insane Fighting Arenaaaa... Iiinspectre!

*Inspectre's ready-room opened out with a lot more fireworks and strangly different music to normal fighting arena standards.*

AcidK: Seventy-Two hour clock has started! Let the Championships begin!

*AcidK disappeared with a small spray of smoke that dispersed quickly, the podium already retracted and the glass replaced.*

[Wraith[x]]

*munches on his popcorn, just gratefil he hasn't been chosen... far too late too write anything creative!*

[flapjack]

As the door opened a small thing, presumable a mosquito, flew out of the room, immediatly followed by a massive tail, then a spray of fire which both missed the tiny target.
Moments later Flapjack went pursuit, massive multi-ton dragon barging out of the room and chasing after the mosquito, bursts of fire flying in every direction as he desperately tried to hit the mosquito, which by now was headed towards Inspectre at high speeds.

"You bugger, think you can sting me and get away with it ey." He yelled as continued chasing the mosquito, which was rapidly approaching the center of the arena

ooc/ Now Inspectre, get out of that room so I can start master-plot #1:P /ooc

[Inspectre]

/ooc D*mn you people for making me fight first. Now I’ll have to postpone DMing Heros while I attempt to beatdown flapjack. ooc/

/ooc Oh, and as a note I’m nowhere near as upset as this post makes me out to be. ooc/

“So . . . how does it feel to be entering this year’s Championship as a regular contender again, Ex-Champion Inspectre?”

Ex-Champion. The word was like an assassin’s knife stabbing into his heart: striking just the right spot to inflict maximum damage. He had first entered the tournament as a Dark Horse, amazingly defeating opponent after opponent until the Championship was his.

But even then Inspectre knew of some who said that he was still a Dark Horse, and his victory was a fluke. Eventually, he was asked to fight in a new Championship, and defend his title. And he lost.

The fact that technically no one was the current IFA Champion was lost on him. Even though the final match in that championship was never held to decide who would become the new champion, it would not be him. He had lost. And with that defeat, he had lost the title of Champion as well.

But he would regain that title, oh yes. No matter who they threw into the ring with him, no matter how many bodies he had to step over, the title of IFA Champion would be his again. And anyone who got in his way this time would be lucky if they were simply left to suffer in a pool of their own blood.

“Sir? Mr. Inspectre. Ex-Champion Inspectre, are you alright? I just asked you a question.” The IFA-C interviewer said, reaching down to put a hand on Inspectre’s left shoulder to shake him; but then stopping when skewered by an freezing stare from Inspectre.

Inspectre’s jaw worked, grinding his teeth as he heard the hated word again, the second time from the same man in as many minutes. Shoving himself off of the locker room bench where he had been sitting, Inspectre leapt lightly onto his feet, and then slowly turned to face the interviewer.

Despite the cold rage that Inspectre felt working its way throughout his entire body, he saw red. Clenching his hands into tight enough fists that his fingernails began to cut his palms open, Inspectre fought to keep his temper in check. Although virtually anything was allowed in the Arena, the IFA-C officials frowned on any violence outside of it. Tearing out this nincompoop’s intestines only to force-feed them to him was not likely to win Inspectre any favors, and perhaps even cause him to be expelled from the Championship.

The interviewer was not a complete idiot, apparently, as he took a step back away from Inspectre while muttering “Next question, next question . . .”

Taking a deep breath, Inspectre forced his rage back into the little mental box he had created for it, in order to save as much of it as possible for his actual fights. Feeling much less like he needed to kill something now, Inspectre forced the muscles of his mouth to work it into a smile.

“What is your next question? I’m willing to answer a few questions, but please keep in mind that my match is first, and I would like the time to prepare.”

Somewhat unnerved by Inspectre’s sudden change from “barely repressed psychopath” to “grinning idiot”, the IFA-C interviewer took another step back, and then said, “Well, your opponent for your first match is flapjack. How do you intend to beat him?”

Temporarily ignoring the interviewer to ensure he didn’t come dangerously close to losing his temper again, Inspectre continued readying himself for battle. Tightening the last strap on his Advanced Tactical Battlesuit, Inspectre nodded in satisfaction, then turned to the matter of arming himself. Moving over to another bench nearby, Inspectre began picking up the various weapons littering it.

First the Streetsweeper pump-action assault shotgun, a simple but effective weapon. Next his pair of modified 9mms, the same kind that had seen him through the previous two Championships.

Turning back to face the interviewer, Inspectre pointed one of the 9mm handguns at the interviewer’s head. Smiling again, Inspectre pulled the trigger, and watched the interviewer jump as the heavily modified handgun signaled that its firing chamber was empty with a loud snick. Inspectre winked at the interviewer, and then used his other hand to work the slide back on the gun, manually loading the first bullet from the clip into the handgun’s firing chamber.

Satisfied that the weapon was ready, Inspectre holstered it in one of the shoulder holsters of his combat suit. He then worked the slide back on the second handgun, and slid the readied weapon into the second shoulder holster. Looking over at the interviewer, Inspectre noticed that the interviewer’s stance had changed to one of annoyance.

Inspectre wanted the interviewer to stay awhile longer, if only to have fun baiting him some more, so Inspectre decided to throw him a bone.

“Here’s how I plan on beating flapjack.” Inspectre turned back to the weapons bench for a moment to pick up a heavily modified AK-47, and sling it over one shoulder. “I intend to shoot him until he stops moving, and cut him until he stops bleeding.” Inspectre flashed the interviewer a vicious smile, and then buckled a grenade belt around his waist.

Finally, Inspectre picked up his latest sword, a carefully crafted katana. The lightweight blade was made out of the extremely rare mineral Orichalchum. Although not quite as strong as adamantite and that d*mned Kythilium, the Orichalchum was lighter, and quite capable of tearing through solid steel. Inspectre was satisfied that the new blade would serve him quite well in combat for this Championship, and carefully slid the weapon into its sheath: a specially designed pocket in the left shin of Inspectre’s combat suit.

Hearing a series of loud explosions and the booming voice of AcidK, Inspectre smiled and nodded to the interviewer.

“Well, it seems that my match is starting now. I’ll see you after the fight.”

Inspectre smiled again, and then turned his back on the interviewer and strode towards the sealed doors that led from his locker room to the Arena. Even now the doors were slowly sliding open. These were only the inner doors however, and Inspectre slipped through the open space between them and entered the short hallway leading out to the Arena. The Arena doors were still shut however, and through the thick armor plating Inspectre could hear AcidK introducing his opponent, flapjack.

Obviously having a few seconds to prepare, Inspectre reached down to his grenade belt and pulled off a flashbang. The flash/concussion mix would hopefully stun his opponent for a few seconds, giving Inspectre valuable time to analyze his opponent, or simply spray him with lead. Inspectre armed the grenade, and then waited for the door to open.

A few seconds later they did, and his entrance music blared as he charged through the special effects explosions and into the Arena. Looking across the Arena for his opponent, Inspectre at first saw nothing, but then what appeared to be a mosquito emerged from flapjack’s set of doors, followed by a massive fire-breathing dragon.

Inspectre had fought quite a wide variety of opponents in the Championships thus far, but never a dragon. This should be fun.

Inspectre threw the flashbang grenade towards the middle of the Arena, and then flung himself to one side in a shoulder roll. He came up on one knee, both of his 9mm handguns in hand. A moment later the flashbang went off, and although Inspectre was prepared for it and had looked away, his vision still went temporarily white. Not relying on sight, Inspectre squeezed the triggers on both handguns down, spraying gunfire at the last position he remembered seeing flapjack.

The bullets in his automatic 9mm handguns were of several types, arranged in the clips according to standard military protocol. First, an armor piercing round. Second, a high-explosive round. Next, an incendiary round. Finally, the fourth bullet in the cycle was a special dart round that would inject a target with a small dose of strong depressant and an experimental drug.

Having found that a majority of the contenders he had found in the Championships to possess psionic abilities, Inspectre had decided he required some way of limiting those abilities. Inspectre’s solution was to develop a drug that would target the specific neurons in a person’s brain that allowed for psionics. With any luck, the new drug would dampen those portions of an opponent’s brain, preventing them from using psionics effectively. If nothing else, the potent depressants Inspectre included in the dart rounds should cause weakness and disorientation.

Hearing his handguns click empty, Inspectre ejected the empty clips in one smooth motion, and then began to quickly reload both weapons. Meanwhile, as his vision began to clear, he looked around in an attempt to locate his opponent once again, and see what condition he was in after Inspectre’s first assault.

[Fluffie]

Somewhere between the spectators, sits Fluffie. He watches Inspectre...

Standing up, he roars out, calling out Inspectre's name.

It wouldn't hurt to get his most favourite opponent's blood boiling. It'd make the fight better... After having roared and possible, hopefully, having had eye contact, Fluffie leaves the Spectator's Area, making his way backstage (one way, or another). Once there, he sits and waits. Maybe he could cause someone to get "injured", accidently. Or maybe bribe someone, once it was time again to face Inspectre....

[flapjack]

Flapjack didn't even noticed the small metal cylinder as it clattered down near his feet, for he was still to occupied with trying to shoot down the small mosquito, however when it went off, it was clear to Flapjack something had happened and his opponent was most likely about to attack him, however that darned mosquito had stung his nose so he couldn't smell anything, he had closed his eyes, for the flashbang had reduced them from a weak spot that provided an important sense, to a useless weak spot. Unfortunately his final main main sense, hearing, was now equally impaired.

Moments later it felt as if a few dozen mosquitos had started striking down on him, for a moment Flapjack actually tought they where mosquitos at least and smashed the scales on his right side with his tail repeatedly, before realizing that these mosquitos where either expectionally big and strong, or simply not mosquitos at all.

"Cursed humans, apparently they've found a way to make arrows a little bit more powerfull."

With that Flapjack turned to where the bullets had come from and simply charged forward, head first, to where the bullets had come from. His main hope was that his opponent would either be unable to dodge the several hundred tonnes of dragon coming his way, or was just as impaired in his vision as Flapjack was, in which case it would be likely that his target would never realize what was happening.

As Flapjack continued down he remembered the mosquito and for a moment almost started to slow down, before deciding he would get rid of that critter later.

"How would they say it, ah ofcourse, Banzai."

[Radek 559]

(I see there's still a backup player slot avalable. Is it too late to requrest the position?)

[AcidK]

Go ahead, if you think you can really fight some of these Forum's top combatents. I'll place you in the first post

[Fluffie]

What, what, what ?!

I'm fine with him going first. But, I, want, Inspectre.

To fight him. M'kay? I'll fight everyone first if I have to

[Inspectre]

Inspectre, still partially blinded and deafened by the flashbang grenade, felt rather than saw or heard the two fresh clips slide home into the grips of his 9mm handguns. Crossing his arms, Inspectre angled the handguns so that their slides were pressed tightly against his forearms, and then pushed. The end result was that both handguns' slides were worked back, sliding the first bullet in the new clips into the firing chamber.

With his sight slowly returning and his guns now reloaded, Inspectre uncrossed his arms and started trying to locate the blurry image of his opponent once more. Unfortunately, all Inspectre could see was a large blob of golden yellow off to his right. Although he couldn't exactly aim, Inspectre figured an ineffectual hail of lead was still better than no hail of lead, and began to swing his handguns around to point in the yellow blob's general direction.

However, just before he started to fire again, he heard over the dim of the audience his name being shouted. Turning towards the source of the shouting, Inspectre's eye sight cleared enough for him to make out the face of his nemesis: Fluffie. The man who had cost him the Championship. Snarling, Inspectre pointed one of his handguns directly at him, and pretended to fire instead of actually firing off a round that could potentially injure an audience member. The meaning of his gesture was clear, however: We will meet in the Arena again, and this time, I'm going to kill you.

Fluffie didn't seem impressed however, and smiling a mysterious smile, disappeared into the crowd again. Turning back to the fight at hand, Inspectre whirled around to bring his handguns back to bear on the mass of golden scales, and found himself nearly face to fang with flapjack. Shouting an explicative, Inspectre fired off several reaction shots into the face of the golden dragon, and then flung himself flat on the floor. Only several feet above him, the dragon soared past, its innumerable golden belly scales close enough to touch.

Angling his wrists back so that his pistols pointed more or less straight up, Inspectre opened fire, spraying flapjack's underside with his two handguns. Although Inspectre had to wince and turn his head away to avoid getting the shrapnel from the HE and incendiary rounds into his eyes, he was able to see that his attack was largely ineffective against the dragon's scales.

Evidently heavier ordinance will be needed.

After the dragon's immense body had finally swooped past, Inspectre rolled up onto his knees, and dropped his handguns to the floor. Reaching around behind him, Inspectre unslung the AK-47, and settled the back of its stock against his left shoulder. Reaching down to his grenade belt with his right hand, Inspectre selected a Shaped Charge Rifle Grenade, and pulled it free. Being careful not to accidentally drop the ordnance, Inspectre armed it and slipped it down into the barrel of the AK-47.

Taking one more second to double-check that the ancient assault rifle was in "rifle grenade" mode, Inspectre then used his right hand to help steady the weapon as he looked through the sights. Centering the dragon in his sights, Inspectre waited for its head and neck to appear as it banked around for another pass. When its head did appear, Inspectre aimed carefully at a spot between its jaw bone and shoulder, took a deep breath and let it out, and then squeezed the trigger. With a muffled boom the rifle grenade left the AK-47, and sped towards the golden dragon.

[flapjack]

Flapjack felt more pinpricks hitting his massive headplate, they felt slightly harder, as if they were fired from short range. Moments later the felt what was unmistakenbly the muzzle flash of a weapon, realizing that he had reached his opponent, flapjack started slowing down. The fastest way however for a several hundred weighing golden dragon moving at 30 mph to slow down, is to simply slam his feet into the ground and hope for the best.

Thus flapjack slammed his feet into the ground and hoped for the best, unfortunately, Inspectre had been rather close to the arena wall. Moments later a massive thud resounded to the arena as several hundred tonnes of dragon abrubtly came to a stop against a rather solid wall.

It took Flapjack almost a full second to realize what had happened, either Inspecter was a very light weight person that was originally very thin, or he'd somehow managed to miss his opponent. It took another few moments to realize he'd felt a series of stings on his abdomen, upon which he turned around and carefully peered through his eyes, which by now had regained some of their use.

The first thing he saw was what appeared to be a blackish object heading towards him at high speed, the first thing he did was drop to the floor, upon which he could clearly hear the object wooshing past him, then exploding on the wall behind him.

"Will you be carefull where you point that gun of yours, that was a very big... something, you could have hurt someone with that. Oh wait, that's the point isn't it? To hurt someone... And someone will get hurt."

After quite loudly yelling that, Flapjack had managed to get back up on all fours and proceeded to close the few meters between him and inspectre, stopping directly in front of him, opening his mouth and loudly yelling: "Boo." Confident that either his bad breath, the large volume of air, or the overwhelming experience would get to Inspectre and knock him out cold, before sweeping around his tail, over his head, to directly in front of him, in an effort to cut Inspectre's weight in half in a very fast and effective method.

[Inspectre]

/ooc As a factual note, the Orichalchum that my sword is made out of is not a gold alloy, but rather the more whimsical metal that is occasionally used in fantasy/sci-fi stories to refer to a strong metal used in Atlantis. ooc/

Inspectre cursed as he watched the rifle grenade arc gracefully through the air, only to miss and explode harmlessly against the wall as the dragon ducked. While Inspectre's brain analyzed and lamented this turn of events, his body carried on the fight automatically, switching the AK-47 to "normal fire" mode. Quickly working the compact assault rifle's slide back, Inspectre chambered the first round of the AK's thirty round clip, which contained a load-out similar to his handguns, only assault rifle size.

Turning his attention back to the immediate now, Inspectre began to bring the AK-47's stock back up to his shoulder with the intention of spraying the dragon with suppressive fire before it was able to turn around and come at him again. Unfortunately, the dragon known as flapjack moved surprisingly fast, and had already turned and was stomping in his direction. As he moved, flapjack roared something about "someone getting hurt", although it was hard to make out the exact words between the still-lingering after-effects of the flashbang grenade, and the sheer volume the dragon was using.

Stomping to a stop only a few feet in front of him, the massive golden dragon drew itself up in an intimidating manner, and then lowered its head down to directly in front of Inspectre. Showing what could only be typical dragon arrogance, it then spread its jaws wide open, revealing the impressive, teeth-lined chamber that was its mouth. It then said a single word, "Boo", buffeting Inspectre with a sharp gust of hot air and the foul stench of rotting carrion, mixed with a sulfurous "burning oil" smell. The sheer force from the blast of hot air caused Inspectre to stagger back a step or two, and the intense stench triggered his gag reflex.

However, Inspectre was a combat as well as Arena veteran, and he was able to keep his footing and hold his light lunch down. Indeed, honed reflexes took over at his point, causing the index finger of his right hand to push the "firing mode" selection lever on the AK-47 to "Full Auto" even as he staggered back.

If the dragon had been attempting to instill a sense of fear into Inspectre, it had failed. In this arena alone, Inspectre had fought creatures capable of killing with their minds, although they seemed to prefer a wide range of powerful weapons as well. At one point, he had also fought a “man” that was capable of shapeshifting into terrifying and bizarre creatures, in addition to having acidic blood. Although new, a dragon was certainly nothing special, despite its impressive size.

Therefore, in the handful of seconds immediately after the dragon had buffeted him with its hot breath, Inspectre was all business. He quickly swung the stock of the AK up to his left shoulder, paused a heartbeat to line the sights up with the dragon's gaping mouth, and then his finger tightened on the trigger. Capable of firing a decent 600 rounds/minute, the AK-47 chewed through its thirty round clip in a matter of seconds, spewing hot death directly into the soft flesh of the dragon’s mouth.

As the assault rifle emitted a series of dry clicks indicating that it was empty, Inspectre looked up to see that perhaps intimidation was not flapjack’s only intention. The dragon’s massive tail whipped around, sweeping down in an arc from above the creature’s head, in a manner clearly designed to either crush Inspectre or slice him in half on the sharp spines that dotted the tail’s end.

The primitive chimp part of Inspectre screamed in fear, gibbering madly as it saw its death approaching. The analytical part of Inspectre’s mind told him that there was no way he could move fast enough to get out of the way in time. The survivalist soldier in Inspectre took his body over, and flung him towards the only safe haven visible, however insane it may be: directly under the dragon’s head. Landing hard on his stomach directly under the dragon’s chin, Inspectre felt the wind partially go out of him, and then the world shook madly as the dragon’s tail plowed into the Arena floor where Inspectre had been a moment before.

The cold, calculating soldier part of Inspectre’s brain continued to run things, forcing him to stagger back up and onto his feet. It then directed him to drop the assault rifle, and draw his Orichalchum katana from its shin sheath. Looking up, Inspectre could see the scale-covered chin of flapjack, and directly below that, his scale-covered throat. Screaming a battle cry as he had been taught to focus his chi, Inspectre stabbed upwards with his katana, aiming for flapjack’s throat.

[flapjack]

As the rifle fires, Flapjack himself was startled. Normally when you canpicitate a man, that doesn't result in a stream of bullets firing down your throath. Luckily most dragons had scales covering the inside of their mouth, a very usefull thing when you're regurarly munching knights. However these scales where quite a lot more sensitive and thinner, as well sending shrapnel from the bullets down into his stumach.

A moment later a golden blur streak before his eyes, his tail, however the tiny human had managed to duck away from it. For a moment Flapjack was able to do nothing, his tail now firmly impaled in the ground, before realizing where his opponent went.

Moments later he felt a sharp sting, typically that of a well-crafted sword that didn't break when it came in contact with his scales. It happened before, but rarely. Flapjack quickly realized what he could right now and quickly dropped his body to the floor, while keeping his head in about the same position so as to not worsen the damage the sword had done

In order to add to this, Flapjack opened his mouth a tiny bit, just enough for a thin split to appear between the scales that normally made up the edges of his mouth and carefully manipulated the muscles under what most called the fire pit, immediatly resulting in a stream of napalm like burning liquid to stream into his mouth under high-pressure, then moments later out through the opening of his mouth in all directions, so that the human would have no place to go, but under his belly, whereas his belly was directly on the ground.

In addition he could feel the metal of the sword that had penetrated his mouth soften slowly, due the immense heat currently occupying his mouth. He immediatly realized the irony of it and closed his mouth, while keeping air pouring through it and the napalm like substance present in his mouth, for either a quick flaming of an opponent, or in this case, a more intricate plan.

"I do suggest you keep that sword where it is, it's managed to penetrate into my mouth and my mouth is filled with Fire. Looks like I'm having a barbequed dinner tonight."

[Inspectre]

Again, Inspectre's world shook as the massive dragon dropped his body to the floor. It could have also dropped its head down, squishing Inspectre under its chin, but doing so would have most likely killed it as well. Inspectre's sword was still lodged into a vulnerable spot somewhere between the creature's throat and chin, and while Inspectre could not push the blade any deeper, if the dragon lowered its head it would have almost certainly skewered itself up to the hilt.

Inspectre attempted to twist the blade, widening the wound, but his efforts were made with stiff resistance from the dragon's thick throat muscles. He was about to try pulling the katana partially out of the wound before pushing it back in, turning the sword into a saw, when he heard an odd splashing sound to his right.

Turning his head to see what could have possibly made such a sound in a featureless indoor arena, Inspectre watched in horror as a small pool of burning napalm rapidly expanded across the floor. As if alive, the pool of fire first expanded across the floor in front of the dragon's mouth, blocking off any possibility of escape for Inspectre. Then the pool began to spread to the small part of the floor under flapjack's chin, where Inspectre was standing. Unable to go farther under flapjack's body, and blocked from escaping by the pool of burning napalm heading his way, Inspectre went in the only direction he could go: up.

Tightening his grip on the Orichalchum katana's hilt, Inspectre pulled himself up, managing to lift himself up enough to get his feet several inches above the floor. A few moments later the carpet of fiery napalm poured past, only an inch or two under the soles of his combat boots. The heat wafting up from the burning napalm was intense, causing Inspectre to immediately break out into a sweat. The skin on the back of Inspectre's unprotected hands began to blister, and Inspectre closed his eyes, using ancient meditation techniques to try blocking out the heat and the pain, and just focus on holding onto the grip of his katana.

Inspectre tried to start planning his next move, although it seemed that fate too was conspiring against him, as he felt his entire weight shift. Looking up, Inspectre saw that his katana, between being weakened by dragon fire and trying to hold up his entire weight, was being to pull free of flapjack’s throat. To add insult to coming injury, the dragon rumbled something about liking its dinner cooked. Whatever he was going to do, he had better come up with a plan fast.

Remembering one of his most difficult battles during the first Championship, Inspectre recalled that the man known as Evil_Ginge had also attempted to roast him alive with fire. He had survived then by using a small vial of liquid nitrogen to counter the heat of the flames. But he had no liquid nitrogen this time, except . . . of course. The cryo-grenades he was carrying on his grenade belt. Meant for freezing and hopefully incapacitating opponents, Inspectre had decided to bring two along for this fight. Both of which were on his grenade belt, buckled around his waist. To get one of them, he would have to let go of his katana with at least one hand. Although Inspectre wasn’t sure he would be able to hold himself up with only one hand, he would have to try.

Letting go of the katana’s grip with his left hand, Inspectre carefully reached down to his grenade belt, attempting to minimize any motion that would start him swinging, which would make his job even more difficult. Even so, his right shoulder felt as if it was slowly being pulled off by some sort of giant. Finally, the fingers of Inspectre’s left hand closed on the blocky shape of the cryo-grenade. With a quick jerk he pulled the grenade free, armed it, and then dropped it directly below him. A few seconds later, the cryo-grenade detonated.

With a dull hiss the cryo-grenade activated, spraying liquid nitrogen in all directions. A small stream struck Inspectre’s right leg, covering the pants leg of his combat suit with frost and causing most of his right leg to go numb. However, the rest of the liquid nitrogen struck the burning napalm, turning Inspectre’s roast into a sauna as a sort of nitrogen steam rose from the mostly neutralized napalm. Fortunately, the nitrogen was not concentrated enough to push out all of the oxygen, otherwise Inspectre would have suffocated from his own attempt to survive. Nonetheless, Inspectre coughed and was forced to take several deep breathes as he dropped his feet back down to the still-warm floor.

Knowing he had to get out of the area quickly, Inspectre started to run, but hesitated as he remember his katana, still lodged in the dragon’s throat. Although he would prefer to pull it out so that he could at least still use the blade, no matter how badly damaged, he remembered the dragon saying that he now had a mouthful of napalm, and thus removing the katana would be a bad idea. After thinking a moment, Inspectre came up with a compromise. Wrapping both hands around the katana’s hilt, Inspectre shouted and jerked the blade suddenly to one side. With the top half of the blade terribly weakened by its contact with the dragon fire, it snapped off easily, leaving Inspectre will about a half-foot blade while the remainder of the weapon stayed buried in flapjack’s throat.

Looking about through the steam, Inspectre could see that while the majority of the fiery napalm below flapjack’s head had been neutralized, a good portion of it was still blocking his escape path from under the dragon’s head. With the huge bulk of the beast blocking his other way, Inspectre once more was forced to go only one way: up.

Running back to the part of flapjack’s chest that formed the “back” of the little “cave” he was currently trapped in, Inspectre carefully wedged the blade of his katana in between several scales, and pulled himself up. With his short katana blade working like an ice pick, Inspectre was able to start clambering up the dragon’s chest, and then the side of his neck.

As he scuttled up flapjack’s side, Inspectre began making his way back the head. Soon, Inspectre found himself switching from climbing up the side of flapjack’s neck to the side of flapjack’s face, a fact made evident by Inspectre suddenly finding himself eye-to-eyes with flapjack’s large reptilian right eye. Smiling evilly, Inspectre released his right hand’s grip on a bony head protrusion, used it to wave hello, and then balled it up into a tight fist. Swinging himself closer to the eye with his left hand, Inspectre buried his right first directly into the eye, and then began clambering up flapjack’s head again.

Finally reaching the crown of flapjack’s head, Inspectre knelt down and carefully sheathed the remainder of his katana. He then drew his Streetsweeper assault shotgun, pointed it directly down at a random spot on flapjack’s scaly head, and whispered “You want to eat me? Well, here’s the appetizer then.”

His finger then pulled the trigger, while his other hand pumped the shotgun’s slide as fast as he could, rapidly cycling through all of the shells currently loaded into the weapon, causing all of the high-velocity steel pellets contained in those shells to blast into a single spot on the top of flapjack’s head.

[Ryon Jkar]

ooc/// I remember last time... inspectre beat me.. but he didn't slay me out of honor... and I got a cool sword out of it all... ooc///

[AcidK]

match ends at 10:45pm GMT tonight (that would be 2:35pm EST)

[flapjack]

Flapjack was calmly waiting, when the pesky human set off his cryo-grenade, the cold not having much effect on him, a few moments later Flapjack could feel something trying to climb his side. He however immediatly realized what Inspectre was doing and thus headed back to the arena wall.

When he heard Inspectre yelling he replied "I never cared much for appetizer, but I do like pizza."
After which he forcefully smashed his head into the wall, the wall creaking and buckling where he had hit it.

Flapjack however because of this was momentarily dazed, it took him a few moments before he rightened his head again, a sharp sting had hit his head moments before the head had hit the wall and judging by the headache which was rapidly growing now, the impact would have severaly dented the wall.

Flapjack quickly turned around and before even having a chance to evaulate his work, he spit out a stream of burning napalm, which slowly dripped down the wall, as well as bouncing off and onto the surrounding area.

"Pesky humans, now I'll have to find another dinner."

[Hewitt]

*Somewhere in one of the shadowy rear rows of the arena, Hewitt watches on in his human form so as not to attract attention. Every now and again he eyes the distant judges box with such malice that if hate could crack duracrete the box would've distingrated by now.*

I'll have my revenge someday...

[Ryon Jkar]

A slender silouette birthed from a shadowed enveleoped corner in a small part of the arena lobby. The form moved as if it was made and cute out of a shadow, bending at incrediably shapes and finally gaining some solidarity, he stood and streatched out. His eyes burned in an unnatural emerald blaze of energy and purpose.

A commoner looked at him silently in shock and with an open jaw as he had just seen a man come out of a black wall. "How did yo-"

"Be quiet Slave" Ryon's voice cut across the man's speach like a razor blade to flesh. His voice was that of a strong man, yet it seemed to be mixed with a howling wind. Distant wind but it was still detectable. All that the slave could think was that Ryon Jkar was indeed a part of the wind. He saw it in the man's eyes and heard it in his voice.

Ryon smiled as if he heard the man's thoughts."The wind, it's so unpredictable isn't it slave?" The man seemed to be broken under his voice, the voice seemed to cut at him in all directions, it forced the man to turn away from Ryon. But as he turned he screamed, because Ryon's smirking face stood in front of him yet again.

"Take care, slave" Ryon turned and walked away toward the arena spectator seats.

The man shook his horrified head at him he could still hear it, That devastating and tormented howl of the wind that seemed to scream with every breath that man breathed. That man and the wind had somehow been merged, no doubt leading to some sort of insantity.

"I hope you die" The "slave" whispered after Ryon's walking away figure.

[Inspectre]

/ooc If the match ends at 2:45 EST, then I still have an hour to replace this with a reply, since it is only 1:35pm here on the east coast. I will edit this post only to add my reply.

Inspectre nearly fell off of flapjack’s head as the dragon suddenly lurched into motion, shortly after the first of his shotgun shells went off. Although he was still in a crouched position and thus his center of gravity was not very high above the dragon’s body, Inspectre still fell back onto his rump from the sudden motion. He then began to roll off of the dragon’s head, but managed to stop himself as one hand found another bony protrusion to latch a hold of.

Dropping the shotgun and allowing it to slide off, Inspectre was then able to use his other hand to help, and quickly scrambled back up to the top of flapjack’s head in order to see where the dragon was going this time. As it turned out, they were back at the Arena wall now, and Inspectre could see a small blackened crater nearby, no doubt the result of his rifle grenade. However, Inspectre had little time to sight-see, as the dragon suddenly pulled its head back with the apparent intention of slamming it into the wall!

Having little time for thought except to get off of flapjack’s head, Inspectre let go of his handholds, and began to slide backward, off of the dragon’s head and down his neck. A moment later flapjack’s entire body quaked as he slammed his head into the wall with incredible force. The sudden lurching this caused to the dragon’s neck nearly threw Inspectre off and quite possibly to his gravity-related doom, but somehow he managed to correct his course down the dragon’s neck with his hands. Pressing his hands down hard against the dragon’s scaly neck in order to control his path was better than falling off, but nonetheless had consequences as the hard edges of the scales tore at his hands, painfully ripping off most of the skin on his hands.

Finally hitting the joint where flapjack’s neck met the rest of his body, Inspectre hit the level portion of the body at high speed, causing him to slide forward down the body for several more meters before rolling out of control for several more. When his wild ride finally came to a stop, Inspectre paused for a moment or two and breathed, then sat up and looked around to see where he was.

Although nearly every part of his body hurt, Inspectre was still on the dragon’s back. A short distance away was the base of the dragon’s neck, and its head was a long climb away. As Inspectre watched, the dragon opened his mouth and spewed fire once more against the wall, no doubt hoping that Inspectre was now somewhere beneath him. The stream fiery napalm burst against the wall and flew in every direction, a few gobs of it even flying up into the air to land on flapjack himself. There was a loud sizzling and acrid smell coming from wherever that occurred, although the dragon appeared to be unharmed by his own fiery breath. Inspectre, however, was not immune to flapjack’s napalm and needed to find cover quickly, before one of those drops of fire landed on him. Looking down flapjack’s body in the opposite direction of his head, Inspectre suddenly found the perfect shelter, only a few meters away. The dragon’s leathery wings would certainly make an excellent shield against the fiery rain, and Inspectre pushed himself to his feet and sprinted in their direction.

Running around to the tail-end side of the pair of large leathery wings, Inspectre crouched down behind the left one. He should be safe from flapjack’s fire for now, and Inspectre doubted the dragon would risk burning his own wings off just to get to him. Inspectre, however, had no such inhibitions, and began searching himself for some weapon to use to damage and perhaps immobilize them. He found the short length of his katana, still resting in its shin sheath. Smiling viciously, Inspectre drew the much-shortened blade, grimacing at the pain of closing his hands around anything. Grasping the weapon has firmly as he could manage, he began to hack at the base of the left wing, which was nearly the size of a small tree trunk. He doubted he had much time before flapjack reacted to this new attack, and so Inspectre hacked away like a madman, using the katana much more like an axe than a sword, slicing it a little-ways into the hard flesh of the wing’s base, then wrenching it out before burying it into the cut again.

[flapjack]

Flapjack was quite surprised that when he stopped flaming the wall, he found no Inspectre, moments later in fact, he felt something near his left wing, a little later followed by a nagging pain at the base of the wing.

"Hmm, so now you're trying to cut off my wings. In case you didn't know, a dragon can turn his head 180 degrees to face his back."

With that, Flapjack swung his head around and lifted up his wings into the air, giving him a clear view of Inspectre, who was busily hacking away at his wing.

"We dragons also have a very fine control over our tail, or in some cases, tails."

With that, Flapjack brought his tail up and heaved down to directly in front of Inspectre, aiming more at the sword, which had just lodged itself between some scales again, then he was aiming at Inspectre. A blink of an eye later, the sword was once more reduced in its length with a bone piercing sound, 1 of metal tearing due to sheer pressure.

"Now, you can choose, you'll either admit you where wrong, get off my back and run for your life. Or you can just sit there, trying to hacking into my wings with that stump of a sword of yours and I'll show you what happens when a dragon gets really angry, really, really, angry."

In order to empower his own words, Flapjack fired off a burst of fire over his own back, some of the flames rolling over his right wing as well, the flames immediatly covering most of his back, as well as the entire tail, which had moved a little further to the right. Then, for a few seconds, Flapjack waited for Inspectre's response, his burning tail heaved high and ready to strike at a moment's notice.

[Inspectre]

Inspectre was still hurriedly hacking away at flapjack's left wing when the dragon rumbled something and lifted his left wing. Like a curtain being pulled from the stage, the leathery part of the dragon's left wing slowly rose up to reveal that flapjack had somehow managed to turn his head all the way around and was now glaring at him angrily. Inspectre brought his katana up to get in one last slash before fleeing, but the dragon told him about how fine of control dragons had of their tails, and to emphasize that point swung its tail around.

The bladed tip of the tail came around but instead of beheading Inspectre it instead slammed into his already broken katana, nearly wrenching it out of his hands. The only reason the weapon didn't come flying out of his hands was that the katana once more snapped, leaving Inspectre with only a two-inch long blade now. Shaking his head in disgust, Inspectre threw the blade away, leaving the katana to spiral away over the dragon's side before clattering to the Arena floor.

Hearing that the dragon was giving him a choice, Inspectre began to contemplate his rather limited options. Deciding that he would have to return to the Arena floor to collect some of his dropped weapons before the battle could continue, Inspectre began to stand up. As he did so, the dragon once again breathed fire, covering most of his back, his right wing, and his tail in the fiery napalm. The sudden explosion of fire and heat nearly caused Inspectre to jump away, which would have flung him over the dragon's side and to the Arena floor, but he was able to control that reflex action in time to prevent it. Deciding that he needed a bit more time to plan out his next move, Inspectre continued to rise to his feet while shouting, "Ok, you win! I surrender! Just give me a minute here to get off of your back!!"

Now standing, Inspectre slowly raised his hands, and kept one of them raised while his other went down to unbuckle his grenade belt. As he unbuckled it, he deftly plucked and palmed the remaining cryo-grenade, shoving it up the right sleeve of his combat suit. He raised the grenade belt so the dragon could see it, and shouted, "I'm dropping this belt, and then I'm getting off of you, alright?"

This was actually the truth, as Inspectre had suddenly come up with a plan that would hopefully distract the dragon long enough for him to retrieve his weapons. As he stooped to lower the grenade belt to the floor, he suddenly brought his left hand up and pulled the pin on one of the high explosive grenades. He then draped the belt over the dragon's extended left wing, being carefully to ensure that one of the high explosive grenades slipped into the small crack his katana had made in its base. Then, Inspectre flung himself off of the dragon, hit the ground hard, somehow managed to roll back up to his feet, and ran like h*ll.

A moment later, the activated high explosive grenade went off, setting off a chain reaction that caused all of the grenades on the belt to explode, like a string of firecrackers. Left on that grenade belt was a total of three high explosive grenades, two fragmentation grenades, a rifle grenade, and one incendiary grenade. Their combined explosive power was probably enough to destroy a tank, and Inspectre hoped that the blast would at least cripple and shred, if not blow apart, flapjack's left wing.

"That ought to keep the stupid lizard busy for a few more seconds." Inspectre muttered under his breath as he ran, or rather stumbled while holding his right side, as he headed for where he thought he had dropped his two 9mm handguns earlier in the match.

[flapjack]

Flapjack however reacted almost immediaty, heavily swinging about his right wing in order to dislodge the belt, which was successfull, after which the grenades exploded and tough they hurt like hell and covered the right side the dragon in flames as well, they didn't stop Flapjack from continueing his next step.

"You humans are always so predictable."

He said, swinging his still burning tail around and letting it slam into the ground directly in front of Inspectre, metal immediatly sprayed up as what was once 1 of the 2 9mm pistols shattered into hundreds of pieces. Immediatly Flapjack, who had by then turned his head back around to its normal position, fired off a shot of fire, not the normal napalm like stuff, but a directed burst of highly flammable liquid, built up in the same way as a plasma blast from a rifle would be, he had aimed the blast just a little bit in front of the fleeing inspectre, so that it would hopefully land at his feet.

"Surrendering to a superior opponent, is no loss of honour, losing to a superior opponent, is no loss of honour, lieing is however a sin, penalized with death. Prepare for your death human, for I grown sick and weary of this game."

[AcidK]

Note to Hewitt, the only Judge that is the same from when you got a low mark is Ynten, and it was Joe9T that gave you the bad mark (he is not around these days to contact him).

[AcidK]

AcidK: Aaand thats it!

*AcidK rose his arms up, appearing suddenly in the central podium and splitting FJ and Inspectra apart, pushing them with care towards their designated sides.*

AcidK: The judges have asked for a 24-hour break after matches for them to reveiw all the posts carefully and write down the results in an even manner according to how they fought. Results will be posted hopefully this time tomorrow.

[Ryon Jkar]

I won't be able to post til wed. morning. Acid, I was wondering if you could postpone my match with disrupter?

[Shadow275]

Bitchen.

That mean we can move meh match up?

[AcidK]

LoL

No, Shadow, it just mean's Ryon Jkar vs Disrupter starts on Wednesday instead of later

Besides, Narc still hasn't given his results in

[Shadow275]

Dissapointing.

We could be fighting instead of sitting around

And go around Narc's house and give him a good kicking, should speed up anything.

Free time shortly running out.

[AcidK]

I doubt, beyond all beleif, that anyone currently within the RP Boards could face Narcaleptic Frog. Not by a long shot.

[flapjack]

anyone.. good point, any 1 person can't beat him.

So we'll just take a whole group and see how he does then :P

[Fluffie]

you go do that flappy

[AcidK]

lol, Narc Frog is GodMod Arena creator (GodMod Arena isn't all about overpowering idiots that try to think they are god and cannot be beaten) and took on the entire arena once... Yes, I remember that, me n Ynten ripped two tonnes of hell into him, in return to ripped fiftenn out of us... each.

[Shadow275]

Actually, I was talking about real life, not Rp.

But anyway, see, we're yapping when we could be smacking the seven shades out of each other

[AcidK]

still awaiting Narc's Report, I cannot do anything without it. Ynten's also writing up her remarks on the fight. They both promised me tonight at the latest

[AcidK]

Fianlly, I got their attention when I threatened to hide Narc's beer...

This is the results as standing,m compiled and reveiwed by Ynten:

-Inspectre-
Style: 9
Aggression: 6
Control: 9
Damage: 6
Total: 30

Inspectre showed impressive style and control throughout the match and demonstrated his potential to his best. Clearly Inspectre is desperate for his Champion status once again.


-Flapjack-
Style: 7
Aggression: 8
Control: 7
Damage: 5
Total: 27

Flapjack was definatly the most aggressive in this match, his style and control almost matching that same level. However he did not reach the high style and fighting quality that Inspectre had acheived.


-Yntens Comments:-
Although Flapjack remained the most aggressive fighter throughout this match, Inspectre had still kept his legendary style and control during these line-ups. He had tackled a Golden Dragon head on, although he may have lost if the match was a Deathmatch, and he is through to the next round.


-Mighella's Comments:-
Flapjack was suprisingly willing to talk alot, whereas Inspectre kept himself to himself almost all the way to the end of the match. Also, Inspectre's cut to Flapjack's throat clearly shows that he would do anything to gain those Damage points.


-Narcaleptic Frogs Comments:-
Narc was drunk when he wrote this
Flapjack lost the match, even before I began to add my remarks and points I could see it. However, he did put up a worthy fight and would prove to be one of this Arena's Hard-To-Fight list.