[center][h2]Strange vs. Bizarre: [color=turquoise]The Cereal Killer[/color] vs. [color=black]The Book Keeper[/color][/h2]
Round 1[/center]

Runch shrugged, a little disappointed at his opponent’s response. Clearly it was an intimidation tactic, but it was such a small gesture that it was completely lost on the captain. Apparently this man, whoever he was, was not one to talk. Did he really have to battle two opponents in a row that wanted to keep everything all business with zero cordiality? Such a shame. Well, there was nothing left to do now except wait for this individual to arrive. Bartholomew unsheathed his trusty spoonsaber and stood at attention, this time making himself ready for any sneak attacks. He refused to be caught off guard like he had been before with Serhan.

Several minutes had passed, quite longer than Runch thought necessary. His succinct opponent was keeping him waiting. Was he just that far away? The captain didn’t think so. Oren told him that this guy was in Oldtown, so he came to Oldtown. Unless the fighter wandered off, but this didn’t feel right. Did he intend to make Runch wait? His legs were getting tired standing around doing nothing, so maybe that was this guy’s strategy. Or maybe he wanted to conserve his own strength and take a leisurely pace? Smart, but if he arrived tired out, Runch would give him time to rest in the interest of fairness. After all, the whole colosseum had been rigged with traps, it would be the least he could do to make up for that. Just as he nearly lost himself in thought, Runch heard something coming from his phylactery. He pulled the device from his clothing and listened, but it was muffled. Whoever his opponent was, they had take care to make sure he couldn’t hear them. Even still, some things you couldn’t hide, and there were definitely two voices. One a man, and one a woman. Interesting.

Well if his opponent didn’t want to be heard, then Runch would honor that request. He ceased his voyeurism by placing the device back within his shirt and kept waiting. About a minute later and the voice once more called out, telling him to come up to the stands. The pirate looked around from where he stood at the center of the arena, allowing his gaze to meet with every detail he could drink in until he saw it. A single figure standing high up, atop the stands. How did he get in? Could the man fly? Possibly. Did he climb the outside? For the kind of warriors that had been brought to this city, it wasn’t out of the question.

Runch opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by one of Oren’s flying machines. It came up from behind the lone figure to take a more central position, then the funny man’s voice echoed out from its speakers. He spoke about how the phylacteries worked and went on into some details that Runch honestly couldn’t make heads or tails of. He was no stranger to basic engineering, but this was all way over his head. Still, Oren addressed the other man by name. Crue. So this man’s name was Crue? [color=turquoise]”Omnomnomnom!”[/color] He couldn’t help but laugh. It was so appropriate, wasn’t it? Moreover, Oren confirmed that Crue had in fact done something with his last opponent, Erina or some such. So he had no interest in honoring a one on one duel. Pity, but Runch himself didn’t have much room to talk.

The fight was official. The drone’s pincer announced the beginning with a loud bang. The two fighters stood their ground, unmoving. Motley Crue stood on high, staring down at Bartholomew K. Runch down low, alone in the colosseum. The pirate was the first to make a move, but he did not approach his enemy. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled something out. The vampire’s eyes narrowed, his superior senses making out the details. It was a book of some sort. An old journal, by the looks of it, with a six-fingered hand on the cover emblazoned with the number ‘3.’ He observed as Runch opened the book and began reading.

[color=black]”I told you to come up here,”[/color] he spoke once again into the phylactery, curt but his tone was not rude. Rather it was a neutral, matter of fact statement.

[color=turquoise]”Don’t think I forgot about you, Mr. Crue! Omnomnom! Just brushing up a bit on my reading!”[/color] Runch studied the pages intensely, focusing on the man that stood high up above him, and the information filled the page as though it were being written before his very eyes. Motley Crue. Vampire. [color=turquoise]”Wait, vampire? What the huckleberry?!”[/color]

Motley’s eyes opened wide in surprise, then narrowed instantly. This man deduced he was a vampire? The information somehow existed in that book, that was the only explanation. Well, Motley would certainly have preferred the pirate leave the safety of his precious colosseum, but he wasn’t going to stop reading, and that knowledge was dangerous. If the pirate found out what he could do, while he remained largely ignorant of the cereal powers his opponent possessed, that could very well lead to a disastrous battle. He had to act, and fast. 

Motley Crue tensed the muscles in his legs, then released that force. He shot down the colosseum stands like a needlenose rocket, being sure to regulate his breathing. The sound of cracking stone brought Runch to his senses, enough that he was able to look up just in time to see the vampire flying directly toward him from the air. [color=turquoise]”Bori bori wall!”[/color] he cried out, flicking up his sword hand. As he did so, a large wall of wheat and grain materialized between the two, three feet thick and as dense as steel. Runch smiled while he kept the spoonsaber raised, ready to strike as soon as his enemy hit the barrier. He would be sorely disappointed.

Crue wasted no time. This wall was made of the same cereal substance as the beacon, which meant it would be fodder. Almost instinctively the vampire summoned his stand, Heavy Fuel. The greasy, toxic slurry of a being coalesced a couple meters in front as he exhaled his Black Ripple. Runch’s grin turned sour as he witnessed his precious cereal wall blacken into a deathly rot before his very eyes. He’d have to act quickly if he didn’t want to have his head punched into the ground! Runch threw his body to the side, but without the time to utilize his bori bori jet technique, it wasn’t fast enough. Motley Crue missed the pirate by about a foot, but his fist slammed hard into the ground, sending a shockwave rippling outward. The force sent Runch tumbling along the ground. He maintained his grip on his trusty spoonsaber, but couldn’t keep hold of the Journal.

[color=turquoise]”Oof! Ow! Ah!”[/color] Runch jumped back up to his feet, gaining his footing quick as he could. To his shock, his undead enemy had already recovered from the divebomb assault. Worse yet, he held the journal in his hand. [color=turquoise]”Release that treasure!”[/color] commanded the pirate captain. [color=turquoise]”I won it fair and square in my last bout!”[/color]

Motley largely ignored Runch, like an insect beneath his notice. He was confident that his superior senses would warn him to any tricks or attacks the pirate might pull whilst he observed the book. And what a marvelous book it was. There were several pages on various plants, fruits, and berries, largely insignificant, but three entries in particular caught his attention. One detailed a Turkish assassin, another held the secrets of the book’s previous owner, and the next had inscribed his own capabilities. The information this Captain Runch so freely and stupidly gave told Motley everything he needed to know. It was a College artifact that recorded living things. Clearly there had to be range limitation, else Runch would have studied on Motley’s capabilities prior to the fight, not at the beginning. All that remained was studying this man’s own capabilities, then Motley Crue would certainly be undefeatab-

[color=turquoise]”Bori bori shotgun!”[/color] Runch swung his off hand in an arc, sending a plethora of cereal pellets flying toward Crue like a maelstrom of bullets. Before his very eyes they decayed into nothingness before even reaching the vampire. Motley didn’t even seem to notice, or care!

[i][color=turquoise]What the hell?! How is he doing that? I didn’t get to read very much of his page before he attacked me, damn it! Let’s see… He can manipulate his body, but I don’t know how much. He’s a phenomena fighter and somehow his breathing works into that. Something called a ‘ripple.’ Then there’s that ‘Stand’ thing. There was an illustration of Motley and some kind of brown blob, but where is it?[/color][/i]

[color=black]”You are mistaken,”[/color] Motley Crue plainly stated, snapping the journal closed in his hand. For the first time since landing on the ground, he looked over to Runch. [color=black]”You were trying to figure out why your ability is completely nullified, yes? But this is the wrong question to ask yourself. What you should have thought was, ‘How can I destroy that journal before he learns about my devil fruit?’ Had you attacked with everything you had, you might have cost me this advantage. Now you have no hope of victory.”[/color] 

The vampire smiled, his fangs becoming visible. [color=black]”I told you, did I not? You won’t like what happens next.”[/color] Runch felt the wind rush, then a strong force against his gut. He doubled over, both from the pain and from the sheer force of the blow, but he didn’t fall backward. Motley had already taken hold of his collar with his other hand. [color=black]”Understand now?”[/color]

Runch felt himself draining from his gut. He spared a glance down and saw that he was bleeding, but the vital life fluid wasn’t dripping to the ground. It was somehow flowing into his opponent’s hand. The vampire drank blood… From his hands? Runch dismissed how bizarre the idea was in favor of focusing on the here and now of his situation. He tightened his grip on the spoonsaber and dragged the head of the blade across the ground.

[color=black]”You shouldn’t bother. You lack the leverage and strength to cause me harm with that absurd weapon.”[/color]

[color=turquoise]”Omnomnomnom! I’m not trying to hit you!”[/color] The pirate smiled right in Motley’s face. Why was he smiling? Food shouldn’t smile back! The captain tugged his blade back along the ground, catching the serrated edge on a wire which snapped. This set another mechanism into motion, causing high tension razor wire to whip upward, wrapping around and slicing deeply into the hand Motley held his prey into place with. The vampire failed to react to any sort of sensation of pain, but the momentary distraction allowed Runch to slip out from his blue coat and bring up his sword in the same motion.

With that clever trick, the saber sliced clean through the undead’s other hand, the one which held the journal. For added style, Runch caught both the hand and the book in the spoonhead of his weapon, then blasted himself backward thirty meters using his bori bori jet. As before, the cereal pellets disintegrated before ever making contact with Motley Crue.

While the pirate hastily pulled up the page containing Motley’s information in hopes of gaining more knowledge before the vampire inevitably freed himself, Motley let out a deep breath. The air around him rippled with power, and energy transferred from his body to the razor wire that held him in place. In a near instant the wire straightened out, hardening from the Hamon energy. In mere seconds the bone-deep cut had healed seamlessly. In the same moments, the discarded hand crawled its way back to its owner. The undead monster picked it up and placed it back on the stump, where it reattached in an instant. [color=black]”I had intended to avoid any traps you had set. Still, if this is all you can manage, we won’t be here much longer.”[/color]

Runch snapped shut the journal and tucked it away in his trousers. He hadn’t thoroughly read every detail, but he had skimmed it all well enough. Ripple was life energy that related to the sun and came from his breathing. A Stand was a summoned ethereal being that Runch couldn’t see, and this one in particular was highly toxic. Plus it turned his Ripple into some kind of evil version. Then there was a mention of some “lightning mode.” That would be bad news. 

[color=turquoise]”Omnomnom! Won’t be here any longer, actually! Catch me if you can! Bori bori jet!”[/color] A blast of multi-colored pellets shot the pirate up up and away, littering the ground with the fuel source of his jet-like travel. First up, then away deeper into Oldtown from the skies. Runch had figured that while his opponent was faster in most circumstances, Runch’s jet technique gave him the edge in speed boost and air superiority. If the vampire wanted to finish the fight, he’d have to give chase.