[hr] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/DhO9jwL.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/70/Street_Fighter_VS_logo.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/4kQDpyB.png[/img][/center] [hr] The face of Jasmine Breicen emerged from the crowds like a particularly spiky torpedo, having eventually deduced that she could probably find Lucas in one of the room’s four corners. Lucas' eyes widened before darting directly to the floor. Despite his "grand" victory, he was still more than flustered being around this girl - not helped by his graceless exit of their last conversation where he basically fleed like she were another tournament competitor. [color=DarkViolet]“Sooo…”[/color] Jasmine’s tone was particularly awkward, scrambling for a way to brush past the awkward end to their last conversation. [color=DarkViolet]“Congrats on the last-”[/color] [quote][i][b][h1]".... FIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTERS!"[/h1][/b][/i][/quote] The rest of the announcer’s words blurred as Jasmine glanced towards the screen, her face going blank with shock as she saw the results. [quote]2. [b]Isabella Levai[/b] [i]vs.[/i] [b]Lucas Miller.[/b][/quote] [color=DarkViolet]“Uhhhhhhhh…”[/color] The witch glanced between the perpetually scared looking kid and the menacing old bishonen taking the stage. [color=Tomato]“Yeesh,”[/color] Beelzebub’s grin was, for once, downright forced. [color=Tomato]“Good luck out there, kid…”[/color] That her expression was devoid of any support and filled with concern signaled alarm bells in Lucas' head that he didn't even know he had. He would've been terrified of just about any opponent placed before him, but the strained reactions of Jasmine and Beelzebub made him nervous beyond compare. Even still, he wanted to project some kind of confidence and regain a little bit of credibility. [Colour=Yellow]"I- I'm sure it's fine."[/colour] He said with a weak smile. [Colour=Yellow]"It's just another fi-..."[/colour] Lucas trailed off as his eyes wondered toward the stage. He wasn't facing another "fighter", he was facing some kind of hard nosed military type who looked like he'd killed people for looking at him funny. It was moments before Lucas realised - in his terror induced waking coma - he was walking towards the stage. As if his body went on auto-pilot and only remembered the fact that girls were watching. Before he could turn tail and dart out the nearest exit to live another day, he was on the stage and facing down the white haired dragon. Hands shaking, Lucas raised his arm outwards towards Isabella. [Colour=Yellow]"Hel-hello, L-L-Lew-Lewis- L-Lucas. I-I'm Luc-Lucas..."[/colour] What was intended to be a self-confident shake of respect from one fighter to another instead looked more like a man on death row trying to face his executioner with some shred of dignity. A small pool of sweat formed beneath Lucas as his knees valiantly kept him upright despite shaking violently. Isabella shook Lucas’ hand, if only for the fact that someone might complain if he didn’t. He glared at what could generously be called a Nomad with nothing but seething disdain. After relishing the chance to fight Horizon’s newest pet, he got stuck with the kind of embarrassment that should have been filtered out at the front counter, let alone round one. Not that he ever gave a fuck about these tournaments, but this year’s “fighting carnival” might as well be a circus. [color=Silver]“What a joke…”[/color] The would-be executioner muttered under his breath. “Either stand up and fight or save us both a couple minutes’ worth of dignity and step out of the ring.” He stepped back and pulled the Infernal Gear out of his trench coat, black steel glistening in the light of the arena as its dark gears spinned - Lucas, wisely, began backing up the second the old antique gun appeared from Isabella's coat. Was that even legal?. Chains burst out and wrapped around his waist as he held it close. A shadowy black bullet appeared in his hand, and he loaded it into the device. His finger sat next to the trigger as he spoke a word he already loathed, but held exceeding contempt for in this very moment: [h1][color=Silver][i]”Henshin.”[/i][/color][/h1] [hider][Youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=thhdXw_yN0E&ab_channel=Fear%26Hunger[/Youtube][/hider] A loud bang rang out across the arena as Justice Rider Sombra’s body became silhouetted by shadow, only for the slightest of moments, before reappearing in dark platemail that was dreaded long before the Justice Riders first walked the earth. His visor, managing to project malice even through its opaque surface, stared Lucas down as he advanced. He swung his blade down at the boy; his heart wasn’t in it, but it was a solid strike all the same. His eyes closed involuntarily at the sheer power casually tossed around with a single word. Both alien and yet comfortingly familiar. When he looked up he realised why. The spiky haired old man had shed his skin and became a Justice Rider. Albeit one that looked plain [i]wrong[/i], or at least like some teenager had drawn an edgier version of the classic look. Then the sword came down. If there is one thing to be said about Lucas Miller, he was slippery. Isabella's swing of the sword was deceptively quick for a blade so unwieldy-looking yet, all the same, Lucas' finely tuned flight or flight instinct had him throw himself to the side in the nick of time. Saving him from a knock out or, more likely, being cleaved in half live on pay per view. Lucas stood. The one thing he had going for him was his opponent's clear disinterest. Now was the time a Nomad would counter attack! Lucas raised his fists. And began running in the opposite direction, as much distance as he possibly could between him and the nightmare from hell. A long, annoyed, tired sigh resonated through Isabella’s armor as he continued walking towards his… opponent? Quarry? Punching bag? Embarrassment? Either way, it was as much the terrifying, unflinching advance of a murderous half-devil as it was the tired stroll of someone taking out the trash at the end of their shift. He stopped for a moment, held his blade sideways, then threw it towards Lucas, the sword spinning like a saw blade as it sailed forwards. It was instinctual, a finely tuned sense of an animal of prey that constantly and correctly suspected danger. Lucas could practically [i]feel[/i] the air being sliced through as the sword spun like a tornado towards him. He used his momentum from running to throw himself forward stomach first to the floor, narrowly avoiding becoming half the man he was - but not quite escaping without a new cut on his shirt and a nick on his back that was already dripping blood. Adrenaline and fear intertwined as Lucas' shot back up to his feet in a flash. [Colour=Yellow]"T-that should NOT be a t-tournament legal manuever!"[/colour] It sounded like a challenge but was really a desperate plea as Lucas breathed in heavily - shirt sticking to his sweat laden chest. He reared back his hand as it began glowing blue. Again, like an animal of prey, trapped in a corner meant needing to defend or perish. Isabella held his cloak in front of him… [h2][Colour=yellow]M-MILLERGOKEN![/colour][/h2] An explosion of colour as pure burning energy erupted from Lucas' palm and hurled towards Isabella! …for roughly five inches before pettering out and dissolving into nothing. Lucas looked on, expression a mixture of resignation and terror. His eyes glanced back at Isabella. [Colour=yellow]"...M-my bad?"[/colour] He chuckled nervously. [color=Silver]“Why do you even bother trying?”[/color] Isabella asked. He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, continuing to walk forward the moment it was clear even his ki techniques were nothing more than a paper tiger. He snapped his finger, and his blade returned to his hand. It began to shift, transforming in ways that seemed mechanically plausible yet subconsciously unsettling to anyone who looked at it. It had become an axe, looking sharp, mean, and ready to execute. He kept up the pressure, slowly but surely cornering the kid at the edge of the ring. He raised his weapon. [color=Silver]“Let’s finish this.”[/color] The Dark Rider said. And then he brought the axe down. But then… He froze. Weapon suspended mid-swing. He felt a certain energy, looking into Lucas’ eyes. It was familiar and valued and despised all at once. And the realization of what that meant? Mind-shattering. So unexpected and completely stupid that it just stopped him right then and there. Lucas' spirit was broken, his terror peaked, his back killing him. All he could do against the raised axe was close his eyes and fruitlessly shield himself with his hands. But the final blow never came. Cautiously, one eye peeked open, had his resiliency touched the heart of this grizzled old soldier? Instead of a look of respect he found a look of trepidation, fear and disgust - like some unknown force had intervened and suspended Isabella in place. Lucas felt it somewhat himself, a dull iron-like taste in the back of his throat, both hollow and filling that soothed and harmed in equal measure. But it also felt a little like indigestion, nevertheless it effected Lucas nowhere near as hard as it seemed to with Isabella. [Colour=yellow]"Uhh... dude?"[/colour] He asked. Eyes glancing over to the equally confused crowd. For a second, nothing happened. Then, Lucas, scared little Lucas, used one of the most basic defensive techniques in his repertoire. The old re-position. He suddenly grabbed the lapels of Izzy's coat and spun him to where Lucas had once stood before giving him a weaker-than-average-yet-still-forceful two-handed shove to the chest. Immediately cocooning into another "not the face!" defensive position as his self-preservation leaked back out of him. The sudden pressure brought Isabella back to reality, fighting instincts honed by decades of battle kicking back in instantaneously. He put his foot behind him, stabilizing himself so he could finish the match for good. Except he failed to register one small, very crucial detail: He was at the edge of the ring. The Rider’s foot was only off by a couple inches. Enough for the realization to sink in, as he lost his balance and fell off the raised surface of the arena, tumbling off the edge in what he felt could only be the most undignified fashion possible. Silence filled the air. Everyone from the fighters to the crowd once again frozen in disbelief. None were more silent or disbelieving of events than Lucas himself, staring wide-eyed as his opponent went from inflicting violent reprisal to falling off the edge of the stage for a technical knock out in a matter of seconds. His eyes glanced around. Unlike the last fight, the crowd's silence was more shock than anything else - even the announcer in their booth was too stunned to make the call that Lucas. [I]Lucas Miller[/I] had just technically won. Lucas slowly, unsurely, raised both his arms... ...And the crowd promptly went nuts. [h2][b]"LADIES & GENTLEMEN! YOUR WINNER BY RING OUT! ASTONISHINGLY! LEWIS MILLER!!!!!!!"[/b][/h2] Lucas, if anything, looked more perturbed and shy at the crowd response than anything else, arms still raised out of pure reflex and adrenaline. An interviewer rushed onto the stage and shook the hand of his still raised arm. "Mr. Miller! Mr. Miller! An [i]incredible[/i] upset! Defeating a Justice Rider in your third ever professional bout! Do you have [b]anything[/b] to say to the millions watching around the world!?" She stuck the microphone inches away from Lucas. The Tiger fucking panicked, arms still held above his head as he stared like a dear in headlights at the camera, he squeaked out the first thing that popped in his head. [Colour=yellow]"I- I'm goin' to Bizbyland!"[/colour] The crowd erupted into yet another raucous cheer. It wasn’t long before a particular set of noises managed to rise above the din. A rapid duet of [color=DarkViolet]“Holy shit!”[/color] and [color=Tomato]“I told ya!”[/color] on a repeating loop, rapidly drawing closer. Jasmine Breicen and Beelzebub the Glutton dashed onto the stage, shoving the interviewer aside and practically tackling Lucas as they filled the air with joyous laughter. [color=DarkViolet]“Dude!”[/color] The witch said. [color=DarkViolet]“I thought you were gonna die!”[/color] [color=Tomato]“See!”[/color] The devil cried. [color=Tomato]“Wuninamillion!”[/color] Jasmine threw her arm around Lucas’ shoulders and managed to steady her phone enough to snap a selfie of the trio, holding up two of her fingers as she captured the joy of the moment. She smiled and wrote a quick post before the phone disappeared again. [quote= @skankinkickflips]THE BIZBYLAND SWEEP[/quote] Jasmine chuckled and sighed, stepping away to give Lucas a bit of breathing room. Where [i]was[/i] Izzy anyways? It looked like he managed to sneak away while everyone was caught up in the hype. Lucas, overwhelmed by the win much less the response to it, could only give a surprised little smile and thumbs up as Jasmine snapped a picture of them. It felt like a dream, he was half-expecting it to devolve into one of the ones where he embarrassed himself by wetting his pants on live T.V or something. [Colour=yellow]"It's weird, he just stopped. Like, he knew me or somethin'?"[/colour] Despite his confusion, the smile remained on his face. Even his stutter faltered for a moment, suppressed by his bewilderment and joy. [Colour=yellow]"Oh! I almost forgot! I gotta call my dad!"[/colour] Lucas turned up the volume on his Bluetooth as the trio were ushered away from the stage so the next fight could begin. "Luke! What happened!? The website streaming this pay per view for free is on a MASSIVE delay! I'm like half an hour behind!" [Colour=yellow]"Uh, well, I- I actually won, dad!"[/colour] Lucas said, smile remaining as he pressed the device against his ear to hear his response amidst the crowd's continued cheering. He quickly had to remove it as Perry's delighted shrieking pierced everything else in the arena, Lucas' eardrum included.