Cage Fight, Win Money

Things took a turn. A really, really bad turn. The kid was approaching him on his blind side. Render attempted to turn his torso, maybe to try and avoid the blow, but it was too tight. That fist, got him in the ribs and he felt the air leave his lungs. Pain worked its way in fiery veins across his side. Something was definitely broken. He'd had worse, but he couldn't breathe properly. And if he couldn't breathe, he wouldn't have his edge. His body rolled around for a moment, and at last, he stopped on his back.

Finished. By a meta. Damn.

The crowd erupted into cheers of glee. The meta won. Render lost. Some began to toss the contents of their glasses into the Pit. Splashes of the alcohol landed on Render and he breathlessly chuckled. It had been fun. It was always fun here. Ray stepped into the ring again, microphone in hand.

"Our winner tonight, is. The. Meta!!" The spectators laughed, cheered again before generally settling down. "Alright, there will be a five minute break for the winnings to be collected and hopefully our MetaFreak will want to take on his next opponent."

Ray exited the Pit, wiping away imaginary sweat on his forehead. Celtic swallowed her last piece of the granola and headed towards the Pit. She walked in, carrying a cane she picked up from the benches, and threw it at Render. The man raised a hand in greeting, struggling to get up. Celtic sighed in irritation, took one of his arms, and brought it over her shoulders.

Render smiled behind his mask, taking a sure grip of his cane. His yes wandered to the boy. "Nice job..for a meta. I didn't see that one coming. Cage, I'll meet you down at the shoppe?" She nodded once and Render staggered off of, leaning heavily on his cane.

Celtic chuckled as he left, which grew into full-out laugh. Then she stopped and eyed Drake. "Long time, no see."

(OOC: Going to be busy until later tonight, so if you guys want to just start Rp'ing your fight now, I'll come back into it later tonight. That way we're not slowed down, and I'm not really getting involved until the end.)

The Black Angel smiled as the boy won, he had some skill, though his technique was sloppy. He could have finished the fight much earlier, however he still beat his opponent, and that was all that really mattered in cage fighting, and in any event Angel got her money. The crowd was raucous, as it seemed the boy had won them over, as he was proclaimed the fights winner. The MC then said  "Alright, there will be a five minute break for the winnings to be collected and hopefully our MetaFreak will want to take on his next opponent.", and the Black Angel got up to tip the boy, as he'd won he a good amount of money, which she was using to bet against him.... "Funny how that works..." she thought to herself as she got up from her seat.

Making her way down to the lower level, the Black Angel stepped into the pit, as others went to get refills of booze, or go to the bathroom. This was when the show got truly interesting, none of the spectators wanted to miss the last few fights because they were in line at the bar, or had to take a piss at the wrong time. Their was a buzz in the room for this next fight, which could be heard over the loud rock music that was being played to fill the time in between fights.

As she approached, Angel could see the boy was talking to his next opponent, the tan looking girl, who she certainly felt was a Meta. Walking over to the boy, the Black Angel slipped him a hundred dollar bill, saying "Good fight kid.... You know what you're doing. But my money this time is on your opponent, so don't spend what I gave you in one place. No hard feelings? You know how it is..... Girl power and all that shit...". Turning to the female fighter, Angel said "You win this and I'll split my winnings with you beautiful.", as she flashed a smile at the girl, before she turned to exit the pit and return to her seat.

As she sat down once again, she doubted very much either knew that she would take on the winner of their bout, as word didn't travel that fast. She was enjoying herself, not often was alcohol, good music, and honorable violence found in the same place these days. However, it seemed she found a truly unique little dive in Portland. It all lead her to make her decision to face the winner of this fight, as she loved a good crowd.

'Long time no see? We met just a few seconds ago...' Drake shrugged it off, "I guess so, so now it's me against you, huh? Should be interesting, for a female." He said it like it was nothing, letting it hang for her to figure out if it was an insult or not. He suddenly felt the source of the power coming closer to them, and his entire body tensed, his tail becoming rigid, yet slightly coiled like a snake, she slipped him a large bill and said, "Good fight kid.... You know what you're doing. But my money this time is on your opponent, so don't spend what I gave you in one place. No hard feelings? You know how it is..... Girl power and all that shit..."

As she left, Drake's body relaxed, 'Man, that feeling was intense...I really want to fight her now!' He turned his attention back to the girl, "Looks like everyone's rooting for you this time, don't disappoint them, alright? No harsh feelings if we beat each other to a pulp." He reached his fist out, waiting for the girl to "fist-bump" him back, as a sign of agreement. Whether she did or didn't matter little, either way he walked back over to the other side of the arena.

The gender card? Goddess, she'd heard that so many times from the males she previously fought that she was immune to such words now. 'Female? Some nerve. You're the one with the exposed dragon tail,' she mentally chuckled. Her only response to his words was shrug; Celtic couldn't give a damn. Following routine, she pulled on her black, fingerless gloves. She began to adjust her mask correctly when-

Vodka. Goddess give her strength. Don't harm the stranger. Please, do not extract bodily harm on the stranger. Vodka was talking to the boy. Ugh. The longer they remained here, the larger her distrust grew. Honestly? Everyone knows that you don't walk down into the Pit unless your for a kick into the next dimension. All non-fighters who entered, entered at their own risk. Ray wasn't responsible if they came out of there in a body bag. And she was supposed to buy that some petite woman didn't know that? 'Bull. Not even the hookers wander in here and half the time they're drunker than Ray.' This confirmed one suspicion of Celtic's. Vodka definitely wasn't a damsel.

"You win this and I'll split my winnings with you beautiful." She smiled. There was something so empty about it caused to fling up her chin in a challenge.

Understand; Celtic had prepared a response explicitly detailing what was going to be split and where she could shove her winnings. One word stood out, 'beautiful'. She was not cute. Nor pretty, nor gorgeous, nor attractive, nor decent looking, or fair. And she DEFINITELY. Was. Not. Beautiful. Mentally, a minute voice screeched 'Fear me!' Vodka exited as she silently fumed.

Ray announced the minute bell. Piles of people charged back to their seats to see.. Cage? Cage wanted to take on the Meta? Ray heartily laughed. Oh, things always seemed to go in favor of the Pit.

Celtic stared at the boy's fist. His words were merely droplets of water in an ocean. She couldn't hear him past the low buzzing in her head. Like a sedated hornet's nest. Reluctantly she bumped her gloved fist against his. Time to fight. Time to fight. Time to fight.

Fight, fight, fight.

In a blaze of glitter and alcohol, Ray swept into the Pit, bedazzled microphone trapped in a meaty claw. "Brawlers! Ballers! Pimps, hookers! Men in shady suits standing in the corner. MetaFreak won the first round. He continues on, to battle the one. The only. The King.. Cage!!" Slowly, the crowd rose in volume and violence. One person chose to throw a knife at her but 'Cage' simply side-stepped. This excited the spectators into an uncontrollable frenzy.

They hated her. Loved her. And hated her all over again. In heart, she felt she could not possess more loyal fans.

"Our king, fight well!"

"Fight well!!" A few people in the crowed screamed. Ray danced out of the Pit in his dazzling glory. The man did too many costume changes.

For probably the twenty-first time on that bitter night in Portland, Oregon, the bell rang.

The Black Angel was truly entertained now, wondering for the first time in the night who would come out the victor in this clear fight between two Meta's. She took out her Blackberry, and began taking video of the two.... What looked like kids fighting. "Hey... Sports scouts bring cameras to check out recruits.... Why can't I?". She didn't consider herself a scout for O.C.E.A.N, not because she was opposed to it, rather she wasn't a good salesperson. She was blunt, to the point, and usually saw the bad before she saw the good. So what was she so exited about scouting these two for then? Well it wasn't every day you walk into a bar and get to see two Meta's duke it out.... It was the most valuable type of scouting, the operational kind. She could see how they moved, how they responded to an adverse situation, how they took a punch. It was the kind of information that one often didn't get a chance to see this up close and personnel in a recruit, and rarely against another meta.

As the two began to fight, the cheer of the crowd, the excitement in their voices, the sound of hits, it all excited her. This was what she was quite literally meant to do, she didn't feel she had a place in "Civilized" society, and that was a long way away from this place. Her only home was a place she truly couldn't stay, her faith was in the broken bones and bruises she inflicted. However, she knew she could a smile on these peoples faces when blood would begin to hit the floor. If she truly did have a home, it was within the comfort that violence brought. And these people were certainly more then willing to host the Black Angel for one night in this house of violence. "Sure beats a hotel...." the Black Angel thought to herself once again.

Her fathers drunken rages, the Hong Kong Orphanage, Program Jade, life as a Triad Assassin, life as a mercenary, life as a righteous assassin.... All of it had been filled with extreme violence... Fighting was her lullaby's, blood her mothers milk, it was all she knew.... Her body was trained perfectly to deal out as much injury, death, and destruction as possibly conceivable, which was accomplished through nearly two decades of training, punishment, and death.... And the Black Angel had a feeling these people would love her for that.

Drake stared his opponent down, sizing her up, "I sense quite a large power coming from you...and I have to say, I'm not impressed. You shall never win against me!" He sneered, but everything he said was just a bluff. Truth be told, he was impressed by the girl's power, she seemed like she would be good in a fight. He grinned widely, this place...it was just the kind of place he belonged, somewhere where he could go all out, and test his skills to be finest. Without even thinking, he gave a loud and primal roar, stirring the crowd into a wild frenzy. He chuckled a bit, getting into his dragon's dance stance, "Eheheh, sorry about that, I kind of lost control for a moment...alright, are you ready?"

The stance Drake was in was a completely different form, which he came up with himself. It was still in early stages, but it utilized his speed and skill to bob and weave between the opponent's strikes. He decided it was the best way to see Cage's fighting style. His arms moved slightly parallel to his body, his legs slightly bent, he looked like a ballerina, but since Drake didn't know what that was, so he could hardly be embarrassed by it. He waited for Cage to move, his body was tensed, waiting to move at the last second.

Celtic tilted her head at the sudden outburst. Okay, then. But she could tell his bluff. His breathing patterns stutter for barely a second. Senses were multiplied by at least two when compared to a full-blooded humans, maybe three. The enhanced perceptions ranked only third in her abilities disregarding its usefulness.

Moving onto the second, it basically had to do with cage fighting. She'd possessed the ability all of her life, only beginning to utilize it at seven. Innate combat. So far the teen was trained in Muay Thai, Jeet Kune Do, Wing Chun, Taekwondo, and Karate. Celtic could watch someone fight, apply prior knowledge, and then use her opponents strength. So, you can be sure she paid attention to the first few minutes of Drake and Render's tussle. Being able to watch a type of martial art/combat performed in front of her and then automatically mastering it had put her at the top of each of Master's. A well-favored student who flourished with incredibly succession.

The mask moved up and down as Celtic studied the boy carefully. His fight with Render taught her that he possessed speed and brute strength- a brawler in classification. Very little skill, it seemed. An unnaturally broad smile blossomed underneath the skull. Taekwondo, along with Wing Chun should be applied here.

An involuntary chuckle escaped her lips when he roared. Cage left his question unanswered and began to circle him in wide shape with a diameter of twenty feet.

"You should be focused on yourself, now." Her voice changed from its traditional bitter tone to the wiry hiss of a hungry cat.

The Black Angel smiled as the girl got underway, saying "You should be focused on yourself, now." in response to the challengers dialogue with her. She chuckled to herself, saying"Cut from the same cloth...", and began watching the fight with even more interest then before. The girl had skill it seemed, and great potential. Her moves crisp, her reasoning straight, her selection of fighting styles.... Sound. "If she had the tutelage of a great.... I'm getting ahead of myself.... Lets just see that she wins this fight." the Black Angel thought to herself, the girls tantalizing potential being flaunted in front of her with every well executed move.

Yet for every move, their was perhaps another, more devastating move the Black Angel would have chosen. Mastery of hand to hand combat took years, the right master, dedication, and skill, and this girl had the last two in spades, that much was obvious to see. Perhaps.... Perhaps it was more then a drink to warm her from the cold that drew her into this pit. Well, only time would tell.... Whatever the case, the Black Angel was learning enough about fate to know many things were not simple accidents.

Drake could tell just by looking at the girl, that she had the ability to sense things stronger than normal humans, the way she carried herself, hmm, he would have to test this out. He lowered his body, assuming the second form of his technique, as quick as the blink of an eye. He waited for her reaction, then went back to his first form, "What's the matter, cat got your tongue? Aren't you going to attack anytime soon, little girl?" He gave her a bored expression, masking his true emotions flawlessly, not a muscle of his body moved, a sign of a great liar. He was ready for this girl's surprises, and if she indeed had the skills, she could probably outdo him in this fight. He'd have to take alternate measures to win this.

She stopped off to his left, head tilted in curiosity. This one sure did talk a lot. Maybe it was a thing? Hm.. The decision was made. Celtic would utilize Wing Chun techniques. Balance was a key here, so if he did attack, she could simply bounce back. Right now she wanted to take the offensive. Balancing on the balls of her feet, she bounded towards him, heels never touching the ground.

Automatically her fists rose as she drew close, prepared for a strike. She paused, like she was going to let him take the first shot, then brought up her leg in a high kick, aiming for his chin.

The boy had confidence, perhaps the Black Angel was wrong to write him off so early she thought. This certainly would be an interesting clash of styles, the boy seemed undisciplined, unruly, but could brawl, while the girl was well versed, technically sound, and knew the martial arts. Then the girl struck, the Black Angel's confidence in her reassured, as the girl took the offensive. Over the years the Black Angel learned the best way to defeat an opponent, of less, similar, or greater strength was sheer aggression. "She'll learn this in time...." she thought, as she remembered her days as a youth in Program Jade, and the yearly fights to the death, during which the "cream of the crop" rose to the surface, the weaker Jades being killed off. These fights, as with the rest of Program Jade was brutal, but she emerged a master of the Art of War, capable of engaging hundreds.

'Alright, game time is over.' His face suddenly changed from cocky and playful to serious and unbreakable. A rough change, that would have caught anyone who didn't know him off-balanced. She had made the first move, rushing at him with a punch, no, a kick to the chin? Either way, he quickly switched back into his second position, lowering himself so that her body would be over him, and quickly pushed upwards, using his strength to try and knock her into the air. He put a little more force in it than he needed to, but he knew that this was the time to stop messing around.

If he had succeeded in tossing her into the air, he would have then jumped up, placing a knee in her abdomen, then put both hands together in a fist and smashed down on her back. It was a severe move that he only used on skilled opponents, and he rarely found anyone this good. If he had failed to toss her, he would have gone into third position, twisting his body to avoid an incoming hit, then replying with a heavy palm attack. Not enough to do damage, but it would have pushed her to the other side of the arena if it hit.

He was quick; managed to duck under her and toss her into the air. Goddess, did she hate heights.. In mid-air, she twirled backwards and landed on the her feet. A shuddering exhale parted her suddenly dry lips. Don't do that again, huh? Did you suddenly forget about that time on the Empire State? Well, for a moment..yes. Yes she did.

Bitter fury coursed through her veins, the kind of fury that made people murder. Utilizing something like that? Fine. She was all game. She was going to bloody him, and if his face marred, that was his problem. Using that bitter fury, she launched at a speed that she would run on track towards her opponent. His arms rose to defend his chest. She aimed at his stomach but a heavy palm was headed her way. Had she not turned to let her shoulder take the blunt of it, his palm would have met her stomach.

Still, it was a powerful palm attack. Sent her to the other side of the arena. Barely managed to dodge the knife she'd side-stepped earlier; slim fingers reached in a flash to grab it as she rolled past to hit the wall of the Pit. A devilish smile appeared; ooh, an idea! A sadistic one, yes, but still an idea!

Celtic twirled the seven-inch in her hand at a blinding speed. She studied it, studied the boy, studied it again, then gazed at the boy. Like she was actually considering something. Suddenly the knife left her fingers. It whizzed past the boy's head, close enough to graze a hair or two and enough to distract him. She bounded towards him, approaching the same side she threw the knife at the same time she threw it.

"Creativity.... She knows deception is often the easiest way to beat a foe.... Good." the Black Angel thought to herself. The two seemed pretty well matched up until now, however it seemed the girls creativity and innovation was something the boy lacked. She had style as well, landing perfectly upon being flipped, in a move out of the Black Angels playbook. She wanted to fight this girl, the only question was could she finish this fight? Was their more then just style behind this girl? Did she had the intangibles to win this fight? The drive, the determination, and the will to break her opponent? The Black Angel wasn't sure, but she wasn't going anywhere it case she was about to find out.

As Drake saw Cage flip over and try to charge at him again, he had defended with a powerful palm attack, even if she had maneuvered a bit to absorb most of the damage, it still should have dislocated her arm. She still moved her arm perfectly fine, twirling a knife in her hands, 'Am I losing it? Hm, maybe just...a bit more force. Wait, what was that about a knife?' He saw the girl contemplate her next move, and he readied his tail as she threw it, catching it in mid-air.

He had almost become too distracted to notice her, but her moment of hesitation bought him the time he needed to gather himself together. As she ran for the same side she threw the knife from, he whipped his tail, throwing the knife at her shoulder, and leaping up and forward, using her as a springboard to get bigger air to make it to the edge of the arena.

He turned around to face Cage again, "Well, you're a very graceful and beautiful fighter, but I'm afraid that you'll be no match for me." He said this with not ego, or gloating, but pure confidence in himself. He had scouted out enough of her skills, he returned back to his favorite position, keeping his balance with his tail while attacking with his enhanced dragon fury.