Cage Fight, Win Money

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.

Knife pierced flesh- blood shined in the merciless overhead lights.

It stilled, not moving, uncaring.

Lodged.

Perfect. Now, to engage the second part of her plan. She chose to not hold back her cry of pain as a burning sensation began on her shoulder. The half-blood then jumped off of her. An opportunity to slice his tail into pieces appeared, but the knife remained in her shoulder; she couldn't attract too much attention. Yes, she had already done so by joining the cage fight team, but she wasn't going to go full blown on her meta skills.

Celtic knew that she could have easily gotten back up from that and kicked ass with one arm. 'But you don't like Vodka, do you? You want her to lose her money,'  that dark whisper in the back of her head hissed. It slithered, coiled around her sanity, squeezed it in a snug embrace.

Her back hit the ground. She ignored his words. She didn't thrive for empty compliments. 'Stay down, sweet girl. Don't want that meta to get out, do ya'? Can't let them know you're anything more than a human, huh? You just have to fit in..'

Yeah. Yeah.. You're right. Always right.

Steady, drenched in sweat, her palm hit the ground; once, twice. Tap out. Surrender. The sting of the knife wound numbed from the coursing adrenaline in her veins. The skull mask's typical shine, now dulled, faced the outraged crowd. How could Cage lose? The King never lost. The King was born from the Pit, herself. Others.. The Meta won? Hell yeah! A pocket full of cash to trudge home with.

Celtic smiled behind the mask, mentally whispering her thanks for covering her face. But she wasn't done yet. Her chuckles were swallowed; she made of show of 'struggling' to get up. Made her way out Mother Pit. Didn't glance back at the boy; no need.

She passed Vodka, going down a dark hall to the left of the bar. As she 'limped' along, Leo casually passed her by. He slipped the one grand into her pocket with a knowing smirk. Words were not exchanged. A tickling sensation crawled along the nape of her neck. Her sensitive hearing picked up a conversation about someone wanting to beat Cage at her weakest. They would wait until she was outside of the bar to take care of. Celtic sighed. What was a damsel in distress to do without a knight?

"Tch. Yeah, I'm a damsel," she muttered sarcastically.

The teen kept her mask on, walked out with the grand in her pocket, her would-be attackers following. She made it outside, in the grimy, cool air of Portland. For a sliver of a moment, she was grateful for it's chill. It would make their beatings all that more painful.

Her mind distanced back to the boy. Maybe he was celebrating; who wouldn't? But in truth, she knew, she had won. Even if she hadn't finished her fight. Cage always wins. Only people who knew her best tricks, like Leo, knew that. So as she turned down a dark alleyway and spun on her heel to face her assailants, knife still lodged in her damn shoulder, Cell laughed. The maniac, cruel, dark laughter, that only the murderous could ever produce.

Because she won. And she was going to win again.

"Alrighty then!" Her voice was that same wiry hiss it became in the Pit. "Who would like to go first? The bulkiest of the five men stepped forward.

Oh. How she hated that sadistic voice in her head..yet all she felt was a dizzy adoration as it continued to croon in the shadowed corners of her mind.


((OOC: I apologize for the late reply, guys!! I just started school again and I'm in AP and Honors classes so I've been super busy. Again, I apologize for the late reply. : ( Please don't hate me! ))

(OOC: I'm sorry to! Had some computer/rooter issues! Don't hate me as well lol.)

As "Cage" passed the Black Angel, the former mercenary sighed loudly, saying "Well..... I've been wrong before.... But then again... I wasn't wrong was I?". The Black Angel gave Cage a look as if to say "I know your dirty little secret.". The Black Angel wasn't worried about the money she lost, after all it was simply pocket change, something to be spent on an enjoyable night. No.... As Cage passed her, the two exchanging mean glares, it hit the Black Angel... What she needed to be worried about was the fact there were so many Meta's in Portland in the first place. Crime had spiked, that was the whole reason she was sent here by O.C.E.A.N in the first place... To cut the rising crime back down to size. She'd disposed of a meta earlier in the night, a low level villain... Importing drugs, women, and all sorts of vice into the city... now she ran into Cage, who was certainly a meta and... "You're up sweet cheeks!" the bookie the Black Angel had been dealing with said to her.

"Well first things first I suppose...." the Black Angel thought, as she turned her focus to the meta boy in the cage. The Black Angel stood up, took of her leather jacket, cracked her neck, then threw the jacket behind her on the bench she'd been sitting on. Without the jacket, the Black Angel was wearing tight, black leather pants, and a skimpy black top. The males in the crowd began to cheer as the Black Angel seductively stretched her muscles, playing to the crowd. She knew how to use her body to her advantage, which she'd done many times over the years. She'd done it so many times, her "Show" seemed almost rehearsed. The men who'd only moments before been sitting around her, figuring she was a fellow spectator, were now almost caught in a trance looking at the O.C.E.A.N Operative as she contorted her muscles, while cracking her bones. Once she was finished, she handed the remnants of her drink to what looked like a homeless man next to her, then did an effortless back flip down to where the walkway from the stands to the cage was.

As she went to descend into the cage below, she saw the bookie she'd been dealing with for most of the night. Throwing him a wad of money, which was tied with a rubber band, and said "Do I even have to say who this is going on?". The Black Angel then slid down the side railing of the stairs into the pit. Once inside she turned to face her opponent, who had done quite well for himself tonight. However his run of luck was over, as he'd run into an angel.... Eyeing the young meta down, the Black Angel said "Well are we going to stand here all night... Or are you going to attack me?". Her stance was quite relaxed, as the Black Angel jumped on her toes, seemingly in a boxing stance. She was a master of all fighting styles, and figured why not give the people a classic... Western style first. Her hands were down at her chest, almost like Tyson in his heyday. Yes.... She was ready for whatever this meta had to bring. Though she was certainly more curious as to why the boy was here more then anything else.

As the fight commenced, the Black Angel's mind wandered to the question of why so many meta's were in Portland... A relatively small city, which one wouldn't expect to find that many meta's.... If any at all... And now here the Black Angel was, having watched two Meta's fight before her, with her taking on the winner. O.C.E.A.N was certainly interested in the crime wave that was afflicting Portland. The Black Angel thought perhaps her business tonight had concluded the recent spike in crime in Portland. However, with the two meta's she'd bumped into tonight. She certainly felt it was worth sticking around a little longer, to make sure the cities crime dropped. And if it didn't? Well she had a good idea who was behind it and why.

As Drake watched the infamous Cage leave the Pit, a strange sense of unaccomplishment washed over him. He felt a strong urge to go and follow her, to understand why she had forfeited. He could tell that this fight only scratched the surface of their power, and he wasn't satisfied with it. Just as he decided that he would follow her, he heard everyone cheering, and looked up to where everyone was watching. 'Oh, that's right. I've got another fight before I'm done here...I guess I'll jus- WHAT is she WEARING!?'

Drake blushed profusely as he looked up to see the strange woman from before only to see that she had stripped off her jacket and was now only wearing tight leather black pants and a skimpy black top. She made a huge production of stretching to show off her body, and Drake forced himself to look away, he couldn't get distracted now...especially not now. He took a deep breath, and counted backwards from ten. It was a technique he used to calm his emotions, and soon his mind was clear, only focused on analyzing the situation.

When he looked back up, his eyes were completely dragon-like, red with a slit pupil, a slight fire behind them. She taunted him, an expected move, but he didn't return in favor. He preferred to talk with action, not words. Completely silent, he took his stance, his tail swaying in a seemingly random motion, yet it was actually there as a counter measure, like a third arm or leg. He slowly walked to the left, hoping that she wasn't left handed, but kept his form, and his eyes were stuck on her.

"You know, young girls like you shouldn't be out this late," a plump man just an inch shorter than the rest, sneered at the teen. Cage chuckled, feeling the bloodlust begin to swirl through her. The pale grey irises behind the mask shifted, brightened to a bright silver. Its color mimicked that of the pale moonlight that somehow managed to break through a passing cloud. Her arm twinged in pain- again, it was ignored.

The King replied in a wiry hiss, "Fraiser, love.~ Where is my information?" Straight to the point; she didn't have time to fuck around. Fraiser bristled at the way his name had been spoken. By 'love' she meant 'you bastard' and by 'where is my information' she meant, 'Give me what I actually came for before I do you the honor of tearing you a knew one.'

The information broker knew to tread skinny when on ice, but that didn't mean he couldn't have fun, right? Besides, King Cage stood before him wounded! What could some petite young girl with a knife in her arm possibly do? He's a grown man for Christ's sake! "Sorry my King, but you lost your fight, which would have paid off the rest of the ten grand, but..." Fraiser chuckled unsympathetically. "Guess you'll have to leave empty handed."

The last seven words of a dead broker. Fraiser, being a pure blooded human, did not catch the movement of the petite teen.

All he saw was one of his men fall and the other choke in utter disgust. In the dead man's head, lodged tight, was a seven inch kukri. The same seven inch kukri that had been in Cage's arm. Said King pulled of her mask; silver irises flickered with something sinister, deep sienna skin flawless excluding the scar that appeared to be clawed marks ran down her lips. So young and beautiful, Fraiser realized, to turn around and murder five men. Someone must have truly damaged this child.

Cage's marred lips curled into a cat-like sneer. Fraiser hands curled into nervous fists. Shit. How long would it be until she lost enough blood to pass out? The King hissed and shook her head in clear disapproval. This would be quick.

"Why doesn't he just attack me?" the Black Angel thought to herself.... Surely the boy had to know he was outclassed, and it was the Duke of Wellington the Black Angel remembered reading, who said that when fighting a bigger, stronger opponent "Sheer aggression" was the only way to win the day. Yet the boy held back, holding his ground, but not moving in for any sort of attack. Time was not on his side, because time was not the sort of opening you wanted to give a more experienced fighter, one who'd plot ways to defeat their opponent. Already the Black Angel was sizing up the young meta, the fact he was using his tail at all made the Black Angel decide she'd put a little hot sauce on her blows. It wasn't cheating using his tail, but it certainly walked the line of using powers or not.... Not that it really mattered to the Black Angel. If anything it allowed her to not hold back, something she was never very good at.

The Black Angel was set to attack, still in her boxing stance.... Then she had an idea... She'd taunted the boy to attack, he hadn't. Why not play the crowd a little more? The Black Angel often thought she was born in the wrong time... She would have been very good in the Roman Arena, or some other massed spectacle blood sport. Yes, she would play the crowd.... She already knew most of them were degenerates, looking lustfully at her, while all of them came here for the same reason.... A show... And she was going to give it to them.

Dropping her boxing stance, the Black Angel smiled ever so slightly to the boy. She walked over to the ladder down to the pit, then climbing up it, it almost looked as if the Black Angel was going to withdraw. People in the crowd began to murmur about what was happening, a few even began to boo. The Black Angel had no plans on withdrawing however.... Her sights were set plainly on a fat old man, wearing a 60's band t shirt, a drinking beer from a massive chalice like cup. The Black Angel pushed her way through the crowd, then sat on the old, fat mans lap, saying loudly "Why a girl can't fight when she's thirsty can she??" as she batted her pretty eyes, flipping her long black hair. The old mans jaw practically dropped, as he handed the young fighter his massive cup.

The Black Angel then stood up, loudly saying "I don't know about all of you.... But I'm here to fucking party!!! And kick some fucking ass!!!". The Black Angel then lifted the beer to her mouth, then began to chug, as most the beer went into her mouth, but some poured onto her body, and in her hair. Giving her a wet t shirt contest effect, as the crowd of nearly all males cheered loudly. Once she was finished the Black Angel bent over, kissed the man on the cheek, saying "Thanks...". She then turned to the crowd as she stood near the ladder, pointing towards the rows of seats, saying "Are you ready!!!! Are you ready!!!". When the crowd cheered and roared in approval, the Black Angel said "Fuck it!!! Lets get it on!!!".

With that the Black Angel jumped down into the pit, assuming the offensive. She charged toward the teen meta, preparing to use a Muay Thai attack. It was perhaps her favorite Thai move, called the "Throwing Buffalo Punch," which can take down a Buffalo in one hit. Yes.... The Black Angel came out swinging.... More like kicking.. She stormed towards the boys, unleashing a massive right kick towards his head. With beauty, skill, and style the Black Angel performed her move, as her right foot moved closer and closer to the meta's head. The audience in awe of the effortless move, which was performed by a seeming Malibu barbie, who was half in the bag....

What a show off, it was like she didn't even care about Drakon or the fight at all. As if she felt she was somehow better than him, and even if she was a seasoned veteran, she didn't have half the determination that he had. He felt his body heat up, as if his skin were about to burn into flames. The crowd was nothing to him now, it was as if the world was just him and the Black Angel now. Throw the fight? Give up? Those thoughts were lost in the recesses of his mind, as if they were alien thoughts, not really his, but the thoughts of someone who was afraid. Afraid of what this woman would do to him. Well no more, he wasn't about to doubt himself, that was what was holding himself back, his emotions, his human feelings. Closing his eyes, he pushed them all aside, and relied only on his instinct. ((+ 1 Str. Dur. and Speed, and -1 Int, he's using the power of the dragon, without completely going into his half dragon form. Just so it doesn't look like he's cheating ;D))

He felt everything around him much clearer, the crowd chanting the woman's name, the smell of beer and sweat, and he even felt the very vibrations in the ground as the woman came towards him. He opened his eyes, and saw her throwing a kick right towards his face, probably expecting him to dodge the attack, but he had a different thought of how exactly to counter. He positioned his legs and raised his arm, completely blocking the kick. It stung a little, and he felt the impact shake his entire body, but nothing physically was broken. As long as he fought like this, without thinking of the pain that might come to his body, then who knows? His eyes became partially shadowed by his hair, and he smirked, a clear sign that this was going to be fun.

He pushed off with his arm, and swayed his tail to re balance himself and pushed himself forward, launching himself with all of his strength. He aimed for her vital areas, her chest, neck, face...you get the point. He began to launch an all-out assault on her body, throwing punches seemingly wildly, but yet each of them serving a purpose. When he was finished, he leapt backwards, landing gracefully, smoke seeming to rise from his fevered skin.

"You're right, we should give them a good show. Mind if I lead?"

(OOC: Posted this in our planning thread, but figured I'd post it here as well! Also I'm thinking that since Drake and I probably have a lot more posting to do in "Cage Fight" we could have Drake and I do our own order until the fight is over. Cell can post whenever she gets the chance to. That way we can get the fight over quickly, then once it's over we can go back to normal posting order (Cell, Drake, then me). I'm figuring Drake and I want to have a moderately long fight, so I figure we can do this sort of order so things can get finished quick. If anyone wants to keep the old order I'll just move my post back and we can keep the old order. But I think this works best for getting us into the awesome thread we're planning quickly!

The Black Angel threw her mighty Muay Thai into the boys arm which he'd used to block. He was at least somewhat skilled, the average person would not have been able to block that, nor withstand the force. It had clearly caused him some pain, though he seemed to be pissed by the Black Angel's little show. She'd always been a show off, she believed that the need for attention came somewhere from her time at the Hong Kong orphanage, where overcrowding meant you quite literally had to fight to get noticed by the staff. She craved attention, but only when she wanted, there were times she simply wanted to be invisible. It was like everything else with the Black Angel, she wanted it all, but on her terms.

The boy smirked at her as if he was having a good time.... "Ohhh..... You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into..." the Black Angel thought to herself. The boy then pushed forward, throwing punches everywhere at the Black Angel, the punches wild, yet aimed at her major vulnerable spots. However, the Black Angel wasn't some amateur cage fighter. She blocked every punch as if she'd known they were coming. She'd always been powerful, but something had changed in her around the time she freaked out on Adam.... Something was making her more powerful, yet more volatile. Hand to hand combat was like a dance for the Black Angel now, a dance which she already knew all the moves. It almost took the honor out of victory..... Almost...

The meta said "You're right, we should give them a good show. Mind if I lead?" and the Black Angel laughed, saying "He speaks!! Go ahead.... Lead all you want.". The Black Angel stood where she was taking a defensive position. She smiled a coy smile, saying "Go ahead.... Lead...". She was inviting the boy to attack again with launching one of her own. She was playing to the crowd again, toying with him. She knew it was enraging him and that was a powerful weapon in and of itself. He had heart, she had to admit. However when heart came up against skill, it only could get you so far... Ultimately the better fighter would win.

(OOC: Yes she's a cocky bitch lol)

What was he thinking? Taking on someone who was clearly better than him skill-wise. Drake didn't have as much experience as she did...or did he? He couldn't exactly underestimate himself here, even if she had more combat experience with traditional styles, he hadn't trained in the traditional styles of the mortal world, he had developed and shaped his fighting style himself over the years. While he had no clue what kind of techniques she used, he would just have to fight and hope for the best.

Drake took long, deep breaths, controlling his breathing and relaxing his muscles. No sense using all of his energy in one short burst. He wanted to show her what he could do, even if it meant exhausting all of his limited assets. He started to walk towards her, slowly, as if he were just normally walking through the street. Then, he used his speed to his advantage, kicking off the ground at an angle so that he would be behind and just to the left of her in almost less that a second, too fast for the human brain to recognize, it would seem as if he were still walking calmly towards Black Angel. Then he used the first thing that came to mind, an unorthodox combo that left even skilled professionals confused. He ducked down low and went for a sweeping kick at the kneecaps, then spun back up and aimed his tail to whip at the back of her head, after that, he used his momentum to spin again and aim a kick at the temples. After all this, he dropped back down to stance, and threw a straight punch to the spine, cracking the ground from the force he was outputting.

The Black Angel smiled as Drake undertook his audacious attack... He had raw skill, not yet refined, but it was certainly there. The fact that he was unpredictable was also an asset, yet he was wild, and needed to be focused as a fighter. "Always the teacher..." the Black Angel thought to herself, as she practically found herself grading Drake's efforts before she'd reacted. As Drake ducked down with a sweeping kick, the Black Angel jumped high into the air. If it wasn't for her reactions she'd have landed right into the whip of drakes tail, which was aimed at her head. Instead, the Black Angel simply grabbed the tail, practically throwing it away from her. As the Black Angel land on the ground, Drake threw a kick towards her temple, but the O.C.E.A.N operative was ready, ducking down just as his foot passed by. The meta-human boy then threw a punch toward Angels spine, which she simply sidestepped, in a very showy, arrogant manner.

The force of Drakes attack had cracked the ground, leaving many in the audience stunned at what they'd seen. Perhaps more stunning was the fact that the Black Angel had managed to avoid the boys attacks. In fact she barely seemed winded, as she stood in front of Drake ready for another attack. If the boy hadn't known what he was getting himself into at the start of the fight, surely he did now. The Black Angel was an arrogant sob, but she could back it up in a major way. This much was now evident to the crowd, as well as Drake, perhaps even this.... Cage... If she was still watching.

The Black Angel walked towards Drake, who was standing in a defensive position. The Black Angel then threw a few punches towards Drake which she intended him to block, the two basically sparring at this point. The Black Angel saying "You have skill.... But you're like a bull in a china shop.... You need to focus your attacks...". The Black Angel stopped her attacks, then said "Like this!". The Black Angel kicked with her right leg towards Drakes right ankle, which she intended the boy to block. She then jumped into the air with her left leg, which she used to kick towards Drakes face.

Drake almost literally burst into flames in anger, this was complete bull! How could she dodge his attacks so gracefully, without even giving it a second thought!? He raised his hands to defend the blows, blocking each hit easily, it was only then when he realized what she was about to do, "Like this!" He didn't see the kick heading for his legs, but he sure as hell felt it. He would have been thrown straight into the air, had it not been for the fact that Drake's tail stopped him from going too far as he used it to stop himself. He almost sighed in relief until he heard the whistle of wind, and then it was clear to him, right then: He was outmatched, horribly.

The kick connected perfectly with Drake's temple, throwing him straight into the wall of the Pit. After a few seconds of laying perfectly still, the audience wondered if it was now over. Most of them had gone silent when the fight got interesting, from either sheer amazement or fear, Drake had no idea. Just when they were about to call it, he staggered up, holding his right shoulder, which he had landed on, hard,

"I'm...I'm not done yet...is that all you've got? It barely scratched me, see? Come on, do your worst, or are you scared that it won't be enough?"

Truly, his body was almost at it's limit, it would give out on him sooner or later, despite Drake's tenacity. Before that, though, he wanted to see the Black Angel's true power, a way of making up for not completing his fight with the Cage.

"I won't accept anything but the best! If you don't, I'll just keep...keep getting right back up!" He bit down as he pulled on his right arm, which was probably just dislocated. He screamed loudly when it popped back into place, the scream almost sounding like a roar itself. Then he charged, "You call me a bull in a china shop? Well, you're dead wrong. It's more like a DRAGON is in the shop!" He started swinging wildly, putting a ton of force into his attacks, and using his tail as a sort of counter measure, which would whip out and attempt to stab through her should she try and escape.

The Black Angel stood watching Drake get dusted off with her hands on he hips, her head turned to the side, studying the boy. Once Drake rose, the meta-human said "I'm...I'm not done yet...is that all you've got? It barely scratched me, see? Come on, do your worst, or are you scared that it won't be enough?". She imagined this was likely the first time the boy had ever come across someone he couldn't land a punch on? Perhaps even the first time he'd been kicked so hard? Hit attempt at showmanship and masking his pain was honorable. She was able to see right through it all the same.... But it was honorable. It was more then you could say for Fasano... That low level crime boss she'd killed earlier in the night. She could have had the man doing.... Well whatever she wanted, as long as she prolonged his miserable like a few more seconds. No.... This boy would meet an end fighting. That alone deserved respect in the Black Angels minds.

The Black Angel playfully laughed as Drake said "I won't accept anything but the best! If you don't, I'll just keep...keep getting right back up!", she was having a good time. She then mocked Drake by saying "Kick my ass!!! Kick my ass!!! Or... Or... I won't get knocked out!!". He seemed to mostly ignore this taunt, focused more on relocating his right shoulder... Nasty... Once again though, Drake attacked wildly, to enraged for a focused attack. Once again that would be his undoing.... However this time the Black Angel figured she'd teach him a lesson, showing him why this type of reckless attack simply would not work on a highly skilled opponent.

Drake yelled "You call me a bull in a china shop? Well, you're dead wrong. It's more like a DRAGON is in the shop!". The Black Angel smiled, replying "Bull? Dragon? No difference!!". She then waited until the Dragon bearing down on her was mere inches away, then simply side stepped, using the force and weight behind Drakes attack again him. As the dragon boy moved past her, the Black twirled in the air, her left leg leading a massive roundhouse aimed at the back of Drake neck. When she landed the Black Angel said "Your anger and aggression are powerful weapons when they're controlled... However when you let them control you... You're simply a slave to your senses... And what does a slave know of doing battle? Only what its master tells it....". Yes.... The Black Angel didn't mind teaching a thing or two.... So long as the student had skill, the potential to get better, and that little extra something the Black Angel couldn't explain.

Drake had all three.....

Drake turned to the Black Angel, staring at her with not rage now, but pure curiosity. Why was she trying to..instruct him? Was she some sort of teacher? This was getting too bizarre for him, why couldn't he land a punch on her!? Maybe brute strength wasn't the answer to everything, but even so, it was all he had in this situation. He felt the adrenaline rush he had gotten before leave him, and he reluctantly raised his hand and made the signal for surrender. The crowd erupted in cheers, and they started to throw miscellaneous items at Drake. He let himself be doused in the thrown drinks and food that was thrown at, he didn't deserve to have any honor at this moment.

Drake walked towards the ladder and climbed out without a word, holding his head low. This realm...this world of humans...it was tougher than he originally thought it would be. First to Yam, a dragon king in his own realm, who had beaten Drake without even trying. Now the Cage and the Black Angel. The cage had forfeited, but she did so for her own reasons, he knew. They could have fought for the entire night, but they would have been a little more than equally matched. Then the black angel, probably not much better than a normal human, had outmatched him in skill. How could he return to his world now?

The Black Angel slowly lowered her defenses as Drake wrestled with raising his hand in surrender. With that a crowd of cheers erupted from the stands and the Black Angel raised both her hands in celebration of defeating the young meta, who was getting showered with booze and thrown food. Obviously there were more then a few people who weren't to happy or inspired by Drakes performance. However the Black Angel had to hand it to him.... He had raw skill, strength, and a pretty big set of balls. Considering the advantages in training, experience, and technique held by the Black Angel. Drake really didn't do that bad... After all, even most O.C.E.A.N Operatives had trouble going 1 Vs. 1 with the Black Angel these days. Losing to her was no disgrace.... Certainly not.

As the Black Angel soaked up the love from the crowd, she noticed Drake walk up the latter from the pit silently, head held low. He clearly was dejected after his loss to the Black Angel, as it was looking like his pride was seriously wounded following his defeat. The Black Angel bent down to pick up a full beer can which had been thrown, picking it up, she cracked the top and began to savor the sweet taste. She then turned to where Drake was exiting and decided to follow the young Meta out of the pit. Besides..... She's done enough show boating earlier to last her the night, not to mention she needed some leads as to why Portland was suddenly a war zone.... And something told her these two meta's were a good place to start.

The Black Angel walked up the ladder behind Drake and once they were up top, the Black Angel said "Drake! That's your name right?". When she figured she had the young meta's attention, the Black Angel said "For what it's worth you didn't do bad in there.... Most people.... Or whatever you are wouldn't have last my first kick in there. You should be proud you made it as far as you did. Who knows maybe you even learned a thing or two... With a little patience, practice, and discipline you could be a hell of a fighter even!".

As the Black Angel was talking, the bookie she'd been dealing with came over, handing the Black Angel a stack of money, saying "Good fight! Here's your winnings.". The Black Angel smiled, taking some bills from the top and giving it to the bookie, saying "Thanks for getting me in there tonight.". The bookie nodded, saying "Anytime love... Anytime..". The Black Angel went to put the stack inside her leather jacket which she just picked up, then she looked at Drake... He didn't seem to... Well he didn't look like he was making as much as an O.C.E.A.N Operative anyway... The Black Angel underhand one of the stacks of money to Drake, which likely amounted to a few thousand dollars. The Black Angel then said "Here.... Good fight.. Anyway... What are you doing in Portland? You don't seem to be from around here... Not that I am either...".

The Black Angel didn't expect Drake to come right out saying "I'm causing a wave of violence in Portland...". However, she figured he might give her a solid lead, one way or another. If he traveled from place to place as she assumed, something had to bring him to Portland... And she assumed it wasn't simply the roses. No.... Meta's certainly didn't show up in Portland to smell the roses. That's not why she was here and she was certain Drake was here for probably a similar reason that she was. If he told her why he was here or not... The Black Angel's suspicion had be aroused... She'd be staying in Portland a little longer.

Defeated, humiliated, and broken. Drake left the Pit to the outside world almost a whole different person. It was strange, he didn't expect that kind of a change in his life from this event at all. He had just been called into the ring by a bunch of wild gamblers, who thought he was stronger than anyone in the world. Well, they were wrong. He might have had strength, but he didn't have the skill to back it up. No matter what he did would change that fact, either, he didn't know exactly how to train at all. His master wasn't exactly a skillful one, the only training that Drake had done was by himself, he had outclassed his master by the time he fully grew his horns. What was a guy supposed to do? Suddenly pick up a fighting style by wandering around and watching humans from afar?

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the Black Angel following him until she was right behind him, "Drake! That's your name right? For what it's worth you didn't do bad in there.... Most people.... Or whatever you are wouldn't have last my first kick in there. You should be proud you made it as far as you did. Who knows maybe you even learned a thing or two... With a little patience, practice, and discipline you could be a hell of a fighter even!" Drake merely puffed a bit of smoke into the air, then brushed a bit of nacho off his shoulder.

"Listen, I don't know if you're saying this out of guilt, or even pity. All I have to say to you is: don't. I don't need any pity from anyone, especially someone I just lost to."

He ignored the bookie as he ran outside, congratulating Angel, and handing her her winnings. He felt the brush of paper across his palm, and he blushed with mild fury, his body heating up, "Are you deaf, woman? I told you I need no pity, especially in this form." His fist curled, and the heat caused the bills to burn up, turning them to mere ashes.

"As for what I'm doing here, that's none of you-" He was interrupted by the loud sound of someone clearing their throat.

"What a shame, that would've paid off the money you owe us, Drake."

Drake tilted his head to the side to see the man who had brought him in, obviously angry that he didn't get his winning from betting on the meta. His friends were behind him, three of them, heavily muscled with lead pipes that they hit menacingly against their hands. Drake inwardly sighed, then turned to face the man and his lackeys, "If you're planning to get revenge on me, don't even think about it. Don't blame me for your mistakes, obviously I'm not the strongest on the planet, otherwise I wouldn't have been slumming around here, now would I?"

The man stomped the ground, enraged beyond belief, "I bet everything I had on you!!! You beat the king of the Pit so easily, and now you get beat by this...this woman!?" That was it, insulting him was bad enough, but insulting one who was a higher power than him, well...he wanted the ones who defeated him to stay strong, so he could come back one day to face them himself. So insulting those higher than him was like an insult to himself. His pupil slit, and the familiar fire returned behind his eyes, which caused two of the men to drop their pipes in fear. Now was his chance, he put his hands in his pockets casually, giving them a clear signal, he didn't even need to try to finish them.

First, he leaped towards the man who had been scared the most, he had dropped his pipe and pissed himself. The man tried to bend over to pick his weapon back up, but it was already too late. Drake's foot was planted firmly between his lungs and colon, sending him flying straight into the brick wall behind him. The other man who had been intimidated, a man with a eyepatch on, yelled and took a shaky swing at him, but the fist only connected with empty air. Drake was now on his back, crossing his legs and yawning loudly, "Do you know any good hotels around here? I'm pretty tired after this whole scene." One of the other men, either extremely tough, or extremely stupid, who hadn't been intimidated, swung his pipe wildly. Drake moved fast, leaping off eyepatch's back and landing a couple of feet away from the man who had brought him in, a sleazy fellow with red hair and a white leather jacket. The pipe connected with a loud "GONG" and eyepatch fell over, his skull split open.

The last two lackeys did the smart thing: They ran away, and quickly, at that. that left only redhead, who was now backed up to the wall, almost as if he were trying to hide behind his unconscious lackey, the first one that had gone down. No, not unconscious, Drake was fairly sure that that kick killed the man. Did he care? No. No, he didn't. He didn't feel anything at this point, even the rage that he had struggled with since entering the fights seemed more controlled. He kicked the unconscious lump of flesh away, and walked towards redhead. He could visibly see him shaking, stammering, "P-p-please, d-d-don't hurt m-me..."

"Don't worry, I'll make it quick." With that, he pulled one hand out of its pocket, which had morphed into a paw with black, razor sharp claws. Never before had he been able to control which parts of his body turned into the dragon or not, it was a completely new ability for him. Maybe the controlled anger had something to do with it, whatever it was, Drake didn't care right now. He only lifted his claw, gleaming in the moonlight, and savored the moment.

((OOC: If Black Angel wants to rush in and stop him from killing redhead, this is your chance. Just make sure if he runs away, he leaves his jacket behind, it's going to be a reference for the Biting bullets thread >))

(OOC: Gonna get to this later tonight Drake! Gotta run out to eat! Great post by the way