[center][h1]Commotion by the Ocean[/h1] [img]http://i.imgur.com/qdJ8I7l.jpg[/img] [img]http://i.imgur.com/XZCyPaz.png[/img] [h2][color red] Chris[/color] | [color 33ec06]Marcus[/color][/h2] [color=9e0039][img]http://i.imgur.com/3R5vYYi.png?2[/img][hr][color=silver]𝕋𝕦𝕖: π•Šπ•–π•‘π•₯. 𝟚𝟑, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 π•€π•€π•π•’π•Ÿπ•• / / β„€π•™π•’π•Ÿπ•˜'𝕀 𝔼𝕀π•₯𝕒π•₯𝕖 / / ~πŸ™πŸ›πŸ˜πŸ˜[/color][hr][/color] [/center] [hider Commotion by the Ocean] It was nice to be down on the beach during the day, and especially when he could actually enjoy it without the threats of Hazel absolutely destroying him. The warm sand shifted appealingly underneath Marcus's bare feet as he walked along the shore, occasionally picking up a flat rock or a nice seashell and trying to skip it across the waves. He'd always been told that a flat surface worked better for rock skipping, but the ocean was rarely ever [i]flat[/i], which made the whole concept slightly more difficult for him. He'd seen Max get some decent skips out of a few rocks before, but she'd neglected to share her secret in favor of being the 'Howell Rock Skipping Champion'. God, she was such a pain in his backside. He chuckled slightly to himself as he threw another rock, frowning slightly as it disappeared directly into the white peak of a poorly timed wave. Chris had been walking over the sand of the beach and had been wearing swim trunks for the occasion. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted that class clown throwing rocks into the water. There was a pause of thought as Chris wondered if he should give that kid what he deserves. He wasn't really looking for trouble, but even still, it was difficult not to suppress the urge to at least give him a punch or something. The dragon-arbiter walked slowly towards Marcus from behind; hands in the pockets of his swim shorts, and feet moving in hushed footsteps across the soft sand. Once he was close enough, Chris lifted his leg and pressed it onto his back. Since he knew he could just rewind the injury he didn't bother to hold back on force either, but had more intent to use that force to shove him into the wet sand and water rather then focus on bruises. Marcus was too busy looking around on the ground for another rock to notice the approach of Chris. As he bent over to pick up what he thought was a perfect skipping stone (but was in reality just a sand dollar), something pushed into him from behind, easily toppling him face-first into the sand. As if to make matters worse, a small wave splashed over his face as soon as he fell, soaking over his head and causing him to come up spluttering. He took a moment to wipe the saltwater and sand from his eyes, still sitting in the surf as it soaked him. Of course, what he saw didn't exactly please him...but perhaps it wasn't the worst thing at the moment. He could use an outlet. He scoffed once, standing to his feet and brushing sand off himself, his hair still dripping. "[color 33ec06]Coming up behind me on sneaky little komodo feet, huh Scales?[/color]" he started, making a grand show of wiping the sand off his pants. "[color 33ec06]If we're going by last meetings formula, I think that means...[/color]" He didn't finish his sentence. From where Chris was standing, Marcus was still bent over brushing himself off, the sound of static fading into existence. From Marcus's perspective however, he utilized his surprise factor to his full extent. One fast-forward, and a sucker punch straight across the jaw, before he stopped in the same spot he'd started, arms crossed. "[color 33ec06]...[i]I[/i] would get the first punch this time.[/color]" He had his arms crossed as he wasn't expecting him for such a fast jab. Frankly Chris made the mistake in thinking that Marcus was all dodge no punch, but sure enough his unexpected blow to face caused him to step back and nearly lose his footing. Blood was drawn, dripping from some part of his lip as he drew a finger to inspect the stingly numb bruise. Well since he was going to use his abilities, it would only be fair Chris returned the favor. Draconic scales grew over his arms and parts of his face and torso; He immediately went to deliver the same back-handed blow reinforced by the iron-like scales with his left arm. Once again attempted to predict his rewind, His right hand readied into a fist as he imagined through his head the first blow would phase through him or something like that, and assuming Marcus would stay in relatively the same spot after avoiding or undoing the injury he would be prepared to punch his gut. A strategy devised of a still poor understand of how exactly Marcus's time manipulation worked. The scales again. This was a little show Marcus had seen once before; apparently this kid was a one trick pony. If their last meeting was any indication, he was about to get bitch-slapped right across the face. Fortunately enough for Marcus, he learned from his mistakes. He employed the simple strategy referred to as 'ducking', narrowly avoiding the dragon-scale backhand as it breezed over his head. "[color 33ec06]That one agai-?[/color]" Marcus started, only barely getting his hands in front of Chris's follow-up before it socked him directly in the stomach. The impact stung Marcus's hands a fair amount as it impacted, and forced him to take a step backwards. It did not however, stop him from opening his stupid mouth. "[color 33ec06]That's not how this script goes at all. I should be getting pissy and trying to feed you promise-daises now, shouldn't I? Or am I remembering incorrectly?[/color]" He shook his hand a little bit as he spoke, as if he was trying shake off the stinging pain that was slowly fading. Chris was a bit surprised that Marcus resorted to ducking instead of warping or whatever it was Marcus was able to do. Even more so when he tried to block his ambush. He stepped back at the same time his fellow arbiter did, his face far more serious and...observational. He was trying to observe that shitstain's expression. Was he holding back on him? Had Chris gone in a bit too far? That concern was washed away with his remarks however. Chris spat blood to his left before replying. [color=red]"Do you ever shut up?"[/color] There was a small desire to breathe flames upon the bastard, but Chris didn't want to kill him. He had no intentions of murder, despite how annoying Marcus was, he was still a teammate. To him this was just to vent his frustration and to assert dominance in a way, a feeling of foolish pride that clouded his judgement. Was it the dragon guiding him to such stubborn and foolish choices or was it the inner demons that still haunt him in the corners of his conscience? He didn't know, or rather, he didn't care. All he was interested in right now was fulfilling his primal desire of punching Marcus square in the face. Chris kicked sand up into the air and, hopefully, into Marcus's field of vision; With his attempt to blind his opponent he immediately dove to kick him without bothering to even checked if his initial tactic had worked. "[color 33ec06]No. I don't. Clown and all. Honk honk, Geico.[/color]" Marcus said, watching for any sort of incoming attack. What he got was...sand? The kid was kicking sand at him? It was mildly effective; Marcus focused himself on the few grains that landed on his face and around his eyes, wiping those off almost reflexively. Something hard impacted his chest. Almost in slow-motion, Marcus identified it as the two feet of Chris, who had just planted a dropkick firmly in his center mass. All of his breath left his body, and he went sprawling across the beach, struggling to refill his empty lungs. Static again, but a rewind this time. When he found himself back on his feet, Marcus had to take a second to locate his foe, who was now [i]behind[/i] him. The moment Chris landed he moved to get back into a stance. For a second he was confused that Marcus wasn't in front of him, but a quick deduction made it evident that he must be behind him due to his powers. He wasn't sure if he should keep pummeling him, so the scaled arbiter turned back around to face him and leaped a bit back to get some distance, once again trying to study his opponent. [color=red]"Had enough yet you piece of shit?"[/color] He spat another few drops of blood before wiping his bleeding mouth with his wrist. "[color 33ec06]I'd say 'I'm just getting started', but let's be honest here; that's a little bit cliche, don't you think?[/color]" Marcus said, watching as Chris backed off a fair amount. "[color 33ec06]Picking flowers and throwing sand? You really are a child, aren't you? Is that what this is? A temper-tantrum? Mommy Siena didn't put you down for your nap?[/color]" he taunted, watching for a reaction from the kid. Each remark Marcus made only reminded Chris of how much he wanted to pummel that brat. There was no direct response, no choice of words. Just silent anger evident by clenched fists and a burning glare. Anger, no, rage pumped through his blood. He thought he had felt his own draconic shadow encourage further violence. His hatred towards the time-manipulating arbiter was not like his anguished rage to the monsters he wanted to exterminate, but rather of something more like an animal frustrated with a rival male. A primordial, territorial instinct. Marcus was like him, a subnatural forced to be on the same grounds, yet his demeanor was an assault on Chris's pride. He felt that he needed, or rather, was justified in teaching Marcus a lesson; Even though that if he was distant to this conflict he'd see himself as the antagonist. [i]Bring out your true form and show him terror.[/i] His own voice encouraged in his head, as if he had forgotten in that moment that he was even human. [i]People like him only hurt the unity of a team, no one will miss him.[/i] He was still far from actually falling down that path, but Marcus's taunt worked, Chris was infuriated. He lunged forward with arms fists ready to jab at his torso, but as he lunged flames started to trickle out of his lips as he seemed to be holding his breathe. Perfect. As intended. Marcus stood at the ready, watching his opponent get closer, and closer, and just ready to punch him when he struck. He'd noticed the flames seemingly dripping from Chris's mouth. He didn't like fire - his arm seemed to twinge as he contemplated that fact. If Chris were willing to use something like that on him - well, he'd just have to see what kind of damage he could force Chris to do to himself. Another fast forward, this time placing himself as far behind Chris as he could in eight seconds, but with the added benefit of another sucker-punch. This one he aimed directly for the center of his mouth, just to see if he could force the dragon-mage to swallow his little fireball. The countdown in his head ticked slowly. Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds to distract him until he could get a few more shots in. There was another unexpected blow as Chris was punched straight in his mouth. However instead of having it retreat back into his gut he opened his bruised lips to let out the trail of flames. The punch had made him miss is initial mark but he kept the breathe going as he turned his head to travel a bit, the flames ended just as they grazed his leg. The gout of flames surprised Marcus. They surprised Marcus even more as they traced a long semi-circle around the beach, finally ending at- Burning, searing pain, and then nothing. An awful scream that pierced the calm sound of waves as they crashed along the shore. The meaty smell of charred skin as his leg no longer supported his weight below him and he fell. His body was cold, despite the fire. He knew this sensation. [i]He was trapped. His own roof burying him alive. He'd decided to leave seconds too late. He'd realized that there was nobody was coming to save him - if he were going to survive this, it'd be by his own actions. The same actions which had him frantically clawing at shattered wood as the splinters tore his fingers apart. The wooden timbers were growing hot. Too hot. His arm. He could feel the skin sizzle and pop, and then nothing. There should have been pain, but there was none. Why didn't it hurt? Something smelled like roasting meat. How much time did he have left by the time he crawled out? How close was he to...[/i] Even though he told himself not to, he looked down. There was no pant leg. A large section of his skin was charred. He could see the burned pink of muscle beneath the oozing crimson that was rapidly staining the sand. His body was shaking. He was going into shock. His last rewind. He grasped for it as his mind started to dull. Static. He begged a deity he didn't believe in for the sweet sound of static, as the warmth of tears started to drip down his face. He was behind Chris again. He'd managed to rewind before he'd punched him the second time, and more importantly, before he'd been cooked like a damn marshmallow. His hands still shook despite the lack of pain he felt, and there was an odd feeling of emptiness now that the adrenaline had forcibly been removed from his system. Still. He was sane enough to make a decision. And that decision was to [i]beat Chris's ass[/i]. He aimed a sharp kick directly at the back of his knee, aiming to grab the back of Chris's head and force his face into the sand if he went down even slightly. For a second there was a bit of a moment of realization that Chris himself had actually nearly fried one of his teammates. How far was this going to drag on? Did he really get so angry that he nearly killed his fellow peer who's only crime is being an annoying bitch? There was some sense of trauma, his focus left Marcus and to his hands as if he couldn't believe he had just done that. [i]you monster[/i] Fortunately for the both of them Marcus had rewound to undo that grave injury, and delivered a sharp blow to his knee, causing him to fall. His fall was cut even shorter when the back of his head was gripped onto as he sent Chris's face into the sandy earth by the time arbiter, who was now practically as enraged as Chris was. There was a moment of stillness. Mostly because Chris was still in shock about the whole fire incident. He didn't bother to retaliate at that moment, he allowed Marcus to beat him down due to his sense of justice. "[color 33ec06]WHAT. THE FUCK. IS YOUR PROBLEM?[/color]" Marcus yelled, punctuating each portion of his sentence by yanking Chris's head up by the hair, just enough to force it back into the sand. The soft, cushiony surface of the beach made the whole ordeal very unsatisfying, but Marcus wasn't exactly focused on that much right now. Several times he remained still to allow Marcus the satisfaction of beating his head against the soft earth. His bruised mouth was now full of sand and most of the ringing pain in his head felt numb. Once he decided that enough was enough, Chris suddenly lunged up with energy and gripped Marcus's wrist firmly. The fight could have continued, but at this point things would only get worse if they did. Chris couldn't come out of this fight as a victor, even though his pride demanded otherwise, he was about to continue a fight he already lost; A fight not by strength but by virtue. Even against a fellow arbiter Chris's anger led to another stupid and primal decision. [color=red]"No more, if we keep going like this at least one of us will be dead."[/color] As much as he wanted to punch him across the mouth, Chris's anger was held back, constricted, in his own sense of order. "[color 33ec06]I wasn't aiming for 'death', but 'unconscious ' wouldn't be such a bad thing![/color]" Marcus muttered, attempting to jump up and headbutt Chris in the face. A clumsy maneuver, given the slight height difference, but he was trying anyway. Chris struggled a bit with his attempt to pursue an attack. Still, he managed to hold him back enough to push back, despite him wanting to shove him into the sand himself. [color=red]"There is no need for that, you already won."[/color] "[color 33ec06]Clearly I haven't, because you're still bitching at me.[/color]" Marcus said, struggling to escape from Chris's firm grasp on his wrists, this time bringing his leg up to try and give Chris a swift kick to the stomach. Having been on the defensive, Chris caught his foot. And his hands not been partially armored they'd probably would have been bruised from the blow. [color=red]"No, I lost already. I made a stupid decision out of anger, I lost control, you didn't."[/color] He dropped his foot. Chris defensive stance slowly lowers, arms fell to his sides. [color=red]"I apologize for getting carried away, I don't expect forgiveness, but I'm not going to pursue this fight anymore. As the victor you are free to seek justice upon me, I won't fault you for lack of mercy."[/color] Marcus looked Chris dead in the eye as he dropped his hands, trying to find the intent behind all of this. He was seriously giving up out of some sense of 'justice'? He'd lost because Marcus hadn't reacted hastily? What kind of white-knight bullshit was this? Marcus socked him once in the stomach, as hard as he could, giving an angry half-shout as he did. He threw his arms in the air immediately afterwards, angrily grumbling. "[color 33ec06]Goddammit. You know how to ruin a perfectly deserved beating, you know that? You think beating the shit out of you is going to make me feel better just because of your wounded sense of 'juuuuustice'?[/color]" Marcus said, emphasizing the derision in his voice. He didn't wait for an answer, kicking a clump of sand towards Chris's face and storming off past him. There was no point. There was no goddamned point if it was for his own 'sense of righteousness'. Chris felt the final punch, which caused him to grip his chest. However he didn't fall, he wouldn't allow himself to have the comfort of sand. As Marcus left, Chris didn't move. He stood there, staring towards the water and sky. He contemplated the foolishness of his actions. Perhaps if he stood there in his lonesome, he can see past the void, see the dragon within him and understand it more. Perhaps if Chris weren't so lost in thought, he might have heard the soft running of Marcus coming up behind him. A combination of him trying to go as fast has he could as silently as he could, right until he got in the perfect range to... "[color 33ec06]PSYCHE![/color]" Marcus yelled, planting his feet directly in the center of Chris's back for his own dropkick. A dropkick with the express goal of seeing exactly how far into the water Marcus could surf Chris's body. If he were lucky, maybe the kid would fall unconscious and drown. He didn't bother to move or get up. Once he hit the ground, Chris just remained there. He didn't move, nor complain, let alone offer any resistance. He deserved no less. He was wrong, maybe there [i]was[/i] a point to needless violence after all; because this [i]did[/i] make him feel better. Marcus huffed once, looking down at the pathetically crumpled form of Chris. He wasn't a bad person for doing that just now, was he? Chris had tried to slow roast him...or rather, had [i]succeeded[/i] in slow roasting him before he rewound. He'd stopped fighting because of that, but it certainly didn't make it [i]not happen[/i]. Here he was taking petty revenge on someone who had already given up... ...and he felt [i]great[/i]. He pondered this slightly, watching the fallen form of Scales for a second, to make sure the kid was still breathing at least. A shame, but Zhang would probably have his head for executing one her tools. Satisfied that he hadn't killed him, and just feeling generally satisfied overall, Marcus walked back off the way he came. Maybe he wasn't a bad person - maybe he just did bad things to people who deserved it. He'd be alright with that, if it were the case. [/hider]