Lugubrious

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

For as long as they'd been prowling the streets, the twins had heard and scoffed as threats, no matter how well-founded they proved to be. Neither allowed Llexe's taunt to ruffle them, and as the berserker launched herself into the air, they kept their heads. With the very goons they called to their sides barricading them in, and Naja barreling right toward them, Viper and Cobra needed to act fast. As one they thrust both their weapons upward in defensive formation, and a split second later Llexe's claws fell upon them. The weight of her heavy slash jolted their fingers and wrists, slapping their defenses downward. Llexe dropped on the twins the next instant, too fast for them to steel themselves and remain standing, and together the three women hit the dirt.

Stunned by Llexe's speed and ferocity, the thugs whirled to face their bosses, refusing to believe they went down in one strike. They saw the trio struggling on the ground, and watched as Viper sank a knife into her assailant's lower back. Pain shot through Llexe by lightning, and her pink eyes darkened to a light red. From the side came a kick from one of the thugs, who slammed his boot into Llexe's head, sending her tumbling off of the sisters. A number of his friends started toward her to lay on the pain, but at that moment her allies struck. Light took her pick of the litter, using her powers to strike at a few of the foes not focused on Llexe before abducting one to bring back to Sam, who thundered in the next moment to lay into the vagabonds using one of their own as a living bludgeon.

Meanwhile, the sisters -winded by their sudden, forceful introduction to the ground- struggled to their feet to face Kiyoshi alongside a few goons. As menacing as the samurai's slow walk was, they felt sure they could take him with the numbers advantage, never imagining he would turn the odds around the next moment. Suddenly a flood of Kiyoshis descended upon them. In confusion the thugs wildly at their targets, and from the mayhem a single clone surged forth to strike Viper's midsection with its blade's wooden edge. As the woman wilted from the blow, Cobra stepped up to cover for her against Naja and Chris, only for Llexe's claw to close around her ankle. With a vicious cry Llexe yanked Cobra off her feet and onto the ground once more. To her right, a handful of Tunnel Snakes recovering from Kiyoshi's assault rushed at Naja and Chris to help their boss out, but the pair were more than ready. Before the first could even get in range Chris lashed out with a straight kick that hurled the man through the air and into a trash can. One of the clones went out like a light after Kiyoshi took the place of a clone and struck his head. Then, Naja's let loose the machine-powered savate kicks she'd been planning to use on the sisters against their last two underlings. In only a couple seconds, the four thugs were writhing on the ground once more.

The other wing fared no better. Sam, both unstoppable force and immovable object, demolished any attempt as resistance with his makeshift weapon, who soon fell unconscious himself. Light hardly needed to intervene again, but her ally's three victims remained unhugged, so she blitzed into the fray once more. Between them, they left nobody standing.

At the same time, Llexe was following up on her promise. Even on the ground, Cobra made a valiant attempt at defense with her fans, but a terrifying strength possessed her attacker. In a matter of seconds Llexe grabbed and tore up her fans, leaving Cobra on her back beneath the berserker with only her fists at her disposal. The Tunnel Snakes' boss landed punch after punch on her, but while each hit physically moved her, Llexe didn't flinch. She loomed over Cobra, eyes growing ever darker and redder with every blow, until she let out an inhuman snarl and brought both fists down on Cobra's sternum. She screamed as her ribs cracked, thrashing desperately to try and throw the berserker off. Instead of budging, Llexe pinned her down before slashing her face again and again, covering her features in bloody gashes. Oblivious to Cobra's howling, Llexe pushed her talons through her prey's cheeks, then with a final punch broke her nose. The twins would never be identical again.

Viper's horrified gaze flickered between her brutalized peons and her sister. The last of the mooks had fallen. In the span of only a few moments, the six fighters had effectively separated the sisters, laid waste to their subordinates, and taken one down. Llexe's eyes were lightening as her shoulders heaved from the exertion, her wounds starting to catch up to her now that revenge was dulling her rage. Someone else would need to deal with Viper, but she figured it wouldn't be a problem.

World of Light

will get a post up tomorow. i will have cent...i don't know. i'll have to think about it. stab him in the toe?

@Stekkmen

If you like, though you could aim higher. With the throne sticking out of Megadragonbowser, there's a pretty good foothold to climb up and attack his upper body. Or, you could ask a fellow player to boost Centurion up.

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

The purr of motorcycle engines roused Llexe from her current activity—repeatedly slamming the shop's door on the head of the foe left winded by Kyoshi moments before. A couple of chicks rolled to a stop a moment later, the sight sending a few of the goons scrambling to join them as they dismounted. Somewhat interested by the spectacle, Llexe pushed open the door and let go of her victim's jacket, allowing him to slump, senseless, to the ground. She stepped out of the shop, coldly stomping on the man's back as she moved over him, and gave the revived thugs a scathing glare. None of the enemies she'd attended personally had gotten up again, and for good reason; if they possessed even the slightest bit of consciousness, it was better spent trying to staunch their badly-bleeding wounds. A few drops fell from Llexe's talons onto the pavement as came to a stop and got a better look at the twins.

Just a glance at them confirmed that the sisters shared everything they had: the same prissy dyed hair, the same ugly jacket, the same stupid face, and -as it turned out- the same terrible judgment. One held two knives and the other two...fans? Was that girl joking? Not like it mattered. They had pointed their weapons at Llexe, wordlessly making a declaration that they thought they could hurt her. In reply, the woman raised her hand, sweeping a talon across the group of goons. Her eyes, burning pink, promised anyone who lifted a finger a world of hurt. “Dead idiots. Don't get up this time.” Crouching low enough to place her claws on the ground, Llexe twisted her lips into a derisive sneer at Cobra and Viper. What were they doing with bubblegum, like little kids? “Little girls. Put away your toys.” The smirk became a snarl. “Cut me and I'll carve up those pretty faces!” Still essentially lucid, Llexe made a quick judgment. With their henchmen fanned out on either side of them, the sisters couldn't dodge to the side. That made things easy.

Like a bolt of lightning shot through her, Llexe rocketed upward with her special technique, Roll Over. She pulled her arms and legs in and span like a dragster tire as she flew in an arc toward her prey. Once in rage, she straightened out again to execute a savage double overhead slash. One arm, propelled by spinning and muscle power, fell upon each sister. Even if the blows didn't connect fully, Llexe's weight carried her onto her targets. If all went to plan, she'd take both to the ground beneath her, where things could get really ugly. Her reckless, merciless stunt would leave her open to attack from everyone at once, but so what? These thugs were nothing. Any of them who struck her would be signing his own death sentence. And she had everything to prove.

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

Introductions ended in short order, despite the best attempts of that Naja woman to pad her resume out. What was all that blather about herself supposed to accomplish, since she was already on the job? Plus, to look at her, Naja needed very little in the way of padding. Metal limbs spoke for themselves.

For some reason, the hulking man who followed her sounded somewhat nervous. What could he possibly have to fear, aside from overheating in all that excessive, stuffy clothing of his? If he, like Light, used their garb to hide something, he might as well unmask. The void creature presented a hard act to follow in terms of strangeness.

Llexe spared little thought for Chris, other than to grimace at his closing assurance. What possible pleasure was there to be found in her, or Sam? The other practitioners of honeyed, overpolite words she'd met turned out to be scum hiding their real, rotten selves. Unless he wanted those prissy features clawed up, he'd better not turn out the same.

However, Llexe felt far more inclined to use her claws on herself when she heard Eve's next suggestion. Uncontrolled bleeding and additional scars sounded a lot less painful than this ridiculous twaddle. Her talon-capped fingers dug into the arm of her couch before she hauled herself to her feet. What she was going to do next she had no idea, but a knock on the door put a sudden stop to the impending catastrophe. One brief comedy skit later, the crew had its first mission: exterminate a few rats gnawing holes in a nearby store. Llexe moved with a sudden energy completely at odds to the irritable lethargy she'd shown so far, bolting to the door with gusto.

---

Though if she really thought about it she would have guessed that she'd arrive first, with her unrestrained low running stance, Llexe kept pace with the group as it rushed to the scene of the crime. Unlike Naja, Llexe didn't register any of the finer details about what was going on in the store as she approached; also unlike her, she lacked any fancy chi maneuver to send her shooting ahead of the others into the fray. So, she did it herself. Completely silent but for a grunt of exertion, she hurled herself into the store like a wild animal, flying past the punch-happy thug on his way out as she did. The closest target, preoccupied by the appearance of Naja and her metal sluggers, didn't notice Llexe incoming until a rather inhuman snarl bade him turn, and by that it was too late.

Llexe struck him with her full weight, sending both to the floor in an instant. After landing on top of him and crushing him against the floor, she rose by pushing down on the heavier thug with both arms, shoving him against the floor again. As she bounced back up, she used his head as a stringboard to launch herself forward into his stunned companions. Slashing recklessly with her outstretched claws as she ran forward, she barreled through the whole line, taking down none but knocking them about and inflicting a few nasty cuts. Scarcely even noticing the couple of blow that struck her as she carved past, she came to a stop at the end of the crowd.

The last man, a huge brute, swung a tremendous left hook at her as she went to claw him. Not flinching in the slightest, Llexe powered though. Her talons struck the biceps on his other arm, drawing blood, just before the vagrant's hook hit her jaw. The force lifted her off her feet, spinning horizontally in the air, but when he caught a glimpse of her eyes he could see only a murderous rage. Her limp body when taught midair, and she recovered with a whirling kick that used her centripetal force, ramming her heel into his ear. With a cry of pain he staggered backward, and Llexe landed on her feet before him. In a flash she drew close and executed a sweep, toppling the off-balance giant where he stood. Continuing to revolve as she fell, Llexe went in a full circle before dropping her elbow on his forehead. In the span of only a couple seconds the brute was out like a light.

Some of the goons flinched, astounded and frightened. One, seeing the madwoman's back turned as she got up, pulled out a knife and lunged at her. Llexe heard him moving and hurried to intercept even before rising fully, targeting not his weak point but his wrist. A clawed hand closed around it, stopping the stab before it reached her. Leaning back, Llexe yanked on the wrist, pulling the man past her. For a split second, he could see her face: one eye, filled with hateful pink fire, and faintly-glowing marks on her cheek. Then her fist slammed into his nose, spraying blood everywhere. The next instant her other hand swatted his head sideways into the side of an ancient television set, and the goon dropped like a bag of bricks.

Llexe turned her twisted face on the remaining thugs, hunched over with claws extended, and spat out a wad of blood. “Run,” she snarled, “Or die!” Not waiting to see whether they took her first choice, she tensed her muscles to begin enacting the second.

(3 KO's)

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

One by one the other fighters spoke up, while Llexe grew perilously close to nodding off. The woman with mechanical limbs voiced a question that promised to extend the fighters' stay in this soporific office, which would have riled up Llexe's impatience were she not practically drifting away. Instead, she gazed sleepily at the shining metal of Naja's arm, wondering how useful it was. Both her missing limbs and apparent stoicism reminded her of another member of her organization; with so few acquaintances in the world, Llexe supposed such comparisons couldn't be helped. Did Naja's counterpart know about such gizmos? Then again, how could some electric doodad compare to her own substitute? Losing interest, Llexe ignored Eve's response and looked to the next fighter to speak up.

The slim, pretty girl talked next after some sort of protracted introspection, though 'her' first few words made Llexe's brows furrow. Oh. A dude? That was weird. He mentioned having fun putting away the trash, which was the least stupid thing anyone said so far. On his heels followed the last person to talk, who also definitively proved himself male. His garb, weapon, and overall aesthetic came across as somewhat reminiscent of another ally, but analogies ended there. If Llexe possessed any clue of the meaning of Kiyoshi's last name, her tenuous comparison would have been even more unfounded.

Well, that made everyone. After wrapping up her reply to Naja, Evelyn imparted a couple more details about the opposition the team would be facing, but nothing useful. Only her final addendum really came through to Llexe: that she could not take the lives of her enemies. A look of mixed frustration and bafflement took her over; she was going to have to hold back? That meant not showing her full potential to the organization. And why not? As best she understood it, the rule was in place to keep the police from getting involved. What bizarre reasoning. Were the souls of these cops not just as black as the scum parasitizing this place? Even if they did not steal, kill, rape, and abuse themselves, they freely abetted those who did. If they came about, Llexe would take them down too. Even she knew little about her own organization, but she knew this: it was above the law.

Introductions, how droll. Why go out and hurt people when you could make nice instead? The samurai spoke first, giving a number of complicated names he'd answer to, so Llexe decided that if the need ever struck her to refer to him as anything but 'you', she'd use the shortest—kensei. Clearing her through, Llexe went, “Uh...” before the annoying blue-haired woman from earlier jumped in front.

Saying something inane, Light took off her trench coat, exposing a strange, rubbery-looking white body with sharp points and some serious hips. Her face, too, drew looks; with no nose, slitted yellow eyes, and sharklike teeth Light sure stood out. A memory drifted through Llexe's head: pale features, white hair, and dark eyes beneath a blue mask. Were the two somehow connected...? Well, she wasn't that interested. Far less surprised than she ought to have been, for some reason, Llexe responded only by holding up her hand and unballing her first for the first time since arriving. On her fingertips, courtesy of her gloves, were small, downward-hooking metal claws; Light's were far bigger. When the monster openly mentioned having some sort of powers, she looked down at the floor evasively. So, there were others...?

Closing her fist again, Llexe decided to get this ordeal overwith once Light finished. “Uh...Llexe,” she said simply. Even if she did want to talk, there wasn't a lot to know about her.

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

Last through the door to Roulette's office, trailing behind the others as she rubbed the drowsiness from her eye, came Llexe. Unaware of her surroundings, she bumped straight into the big man as he straightened up following his entry. The slight impact roused her, and her eye opened with a snap as she bared her teeth at the great oaf, like it was his fault she stumbled into him. He didn't seem to notice, and the others spread through the room to sit, leaving Llexe with her first view of Evelyn Roulette, the woman she'd been told she would be meeting. Her glassy, nearly-white eye, lined by scars, took the well-proportioned blonde in. She looked like someone Llexe knew. An irritated look crossed her face before she lurched over to the nearest couch and slumped down.

Llexe's face turned impassive as Eve battered her with an explanation, making sure to mention just how nice the city used to be compared to how dismal it was now. It all flew in one ear and out the others; Llexe already knew why she was here and what she was supposed to do, so none of this mattered. Only Eve's declaration of deposited funds really stuck with her, and that only because she wondered in idle curiosity which of her organization's members set this gig up for her and would actually be getting the money. As for herself, she didn't give a hoot about the money, either. It was a poor thing to fight for.

The view out the curtains Eve provided drew her empty gaze, and Llexe stared out for a while until a sudden motion and noise snatched her attention. Her host's sudden, mighty kick split her own desk in two, which earned her a dully confused look from Llexe. Though clearly unimpressed, it was more the bemused sort than the condescending kind that took hold of her. Eve's following statement, however, elicited more of a response. She addressed her guests one by one, glancing between them as she did, but for a few she gave epithets rather than names. Red-hot Riot. That was what she said while looking at Llexe, who shook her head in consternation. What dumbass gave her that nickname? A face came to mind, one bearing cheery green eyes and crowned with long, stylish brown hair flowing in the breeze that so often surrounded it. It was the face of that annoying, fun-loving jokester, seldom serious about anything but looking and acting cool. Ugh. If he's my contact, I'm gonna go nuts.

It occurred to Llexe a few moments later that she'd been asked for confirmation. She blinked twice in confusion; didn't this woman know that she'd been sent specifically for this task? Maybe the organization was trying to keep itself removed. If that was the case, did she need to pretend to care about the state of the city, or about the money? Well, whatever. It wasn't like she'd be interacting with these people like a normal human. Just a blunt instrument to point in the direction of whatever needed breaking—that sounded good. “Uh. Yeah.”

Of course, one of the others felt the need to make a little spectacle, bowing like some theater kid at the end of a play and singsonging about how fun she thought things would be. And her hair was stupid, too. “Shut up...” Llexe growled under her breath, low and guttural, less of an imperative for anyone to hear and more of a totally unregulated escapee from her psyche. The tattooed brit, it seemed, would say pretty much whatever she felt like. To keep herself from drifting off again like she had in the waiting room, she took a better look at the others. Aside from the big brute, they all seemed to be women, not that the idle realization prompted so much as a batted eye from her. Only one question concerned Llexe: when were they going to stop lounging around, blabbering about tripe and beating up furniture, and start cracking heads?

World of Light

well. my ankle stab was worthless. I'm not sure what Centurion could do besides trying to get some damage in. Maybe try and cut a toe off or something

@Lugubrious do you think I could do a second character soon? I think I'd like to be able to write more versatile characters both in combat and in personality, just to have more to work with. If i understand correctly I need to get Centurion to level 3, right?

@Stekkmen

It wasn't worthless, and it didn't lead to the destruction of his weapon, so it was essentially a free hit that helped pin him down for the others to make their move. But you could have secondary character soon. You would need to get Centurion to level 3, yes. That's when a player character is able to make Friend Hearts.

World of Light

Megadragonbowser

Location: Peach’s Castle – Throne Room

For Courier 6

You have Acquired:
The Revolution
A machine gun with an enormous magazine, moderate damage, and slow rate of fire, allowing long periods of fighting without needing to reload perfect for an prolonged firefight. Its loader inundates ammunition in corrosive acid, making its fire more effective against armored targets. Its high chance of applying corrosion per shot and high output mean that extended use on a single target can decimate its damage-reducing armor.

For Ratchet

Rare Spirit Devoured:
Zer0
Beneath Ratchet's fur, his skin has turned black and taken on a rubbery consistency. His eyes have turned red. His height has also increased by a third, but he remains thin. His clothes have also turned monochrome and overall darker. This spirit confers the Power Decepti0n, allowing Ratchet to completely cloak himself for short periods of time while creating a hologram of himself as a decoy. While cloaked, he is invisible to anyone neither especially perceptive nor fairly perceptive and paying attention. He can attack without breaking the cloak, though doing so will likely draw enemies' attention. This spirit also confers the Weaknene̴̡ņe̕͢n̷e̷̕s̶̢͢s̀͜͠ ́́ą͝f̡͘k̶j̷̕͟l̛h̵̛̀0͝u̷͘͟0̴̡̡0̶̡y̕͡h̢͏-̛0̵͘͢0̸̴h͜ą̡i0̸͘t̵h̷̨͟ę̵r̸͠͝e̶0͏͜͟ ͏̀͠t̨h͢͠o͏u͟͠͠g̨͡h ͠t̴̡́h̴̀i͜s ̨̧́ba̶̷͝d͟a̷̶sś̢ ̷̕r̀̀ę͢͢s̷͞t̴̕s̡,̨̕͠ ͡y̸o͏u̡͏ ͢w̸̛͡hó̡ c͢͟a̛r҉r̛͡ie̕s ͠m̧e͡ ͏o̸̡͝nwá͜r̸̡̀d͏,̶͞ ͞ẁì͝͞l̀l͠ ̡ḱ̢n̶͘o̡͠w̡͝ ̷͜n̸o͟ ̧bu͘͟͜r͏̶d̷̴͞ęn confers NO WEAKNESS

Shocking though the demise of their comrades was, the heroes fought on. Once the wave of earth passed them by, the Centurion was the first to leap out from behind his team's defenses and approach the tyrant alone, though allies followed on his heels. Wise to the colossal koopa's act, Agoston did not hand himself over, and advanced warily enough to duck out of the way of Megadragonbowser's deadly but slow claw swipe. Having avoided the strike and gotten in, the man rushed behind his target, forcing the tyrant to choose between one man in a dangerous position or the bevy of enemies headed his way. Figuring he could take whatever the simple swordsman could dish out, Megadragonbowser opted for the latter. Agoston's ensuing stab into his heel elicited a growl, and fiery ichor began to leak out, but the tyrant felt it no more than that. When Agoston withdrew his weapon, he found it superheated, and close to melting. As bad as that was, the fact that it didn't disintegrate straightaway suggested that the tyrant's heat grew less intense toward his extremities.

Whatever the case, the Centurion found himself more or less ignored as his comrades made their attack. The real Bowser approached his incandescent doppelganger, and with Donkey Kong in on the action engaged in a melee as furious as it was brief. Though the pair got a couple good hits in, they were sent away a moment later, allowing their allies to open fire A number of bullets from the Courier cracked against Megadragonbowser's body, one of them hitting a crack on his chestplate in the perfect position to worsen the rupture. A sharp shard of bony plate flew as his burning blood spattered from the wound, leaving only his hide keeping the heat within. Geno's beams, gotten used to by the tyrant and by now even taken for granted, now took the form of prismatic columns falling from the ceiling. Each one seared Megadragonbowser's body, their radiance entirely different -and altogether higher- than the heat broiling within him. The continuous storm of light hemmed him in, preventing him from avoiding Michael's sights even if he knew what was coming. He, however, had no idea of just how great a threat the sniper posed.

The noise of Michael's explosive shots wasn't just thunderous—it was apocalyptic. Their sound alone seemed to rattle the foundations of the castle, much less the eardrums of his allies, but the volatile rounds they heralded did far more damage to Megadragonbowser. What remained of his chest and belly armor blew apart in a tremendous burst of burning blood; so great was the shock that the instead of a roar the tyrant could only let out a groan of agony before he fell forward, spewing ichor, onto all fours. Even if he withdrew into his shell, he would no longer be protected from the front whatsoever. Of course, the whole shell -fused with his spine- wouldn't be going anywhere, but the open, weeping wound on his chest was severely debilitating. Seeing the tyrant in this state, Spyro saw his chance.

The little dragon rushed toward Megadragonbowser with revenge on his mind rather than safety, and after the long-range annihilation he just suffered, the tyrant wasn't about to let another gnat get past his guard and nip at his ankles. Even worse, he could see that furry egg, that blasted Donkey Kong, and both robot girls hot on Spyro's heels. What was he going to do? He couldn't think straight. Instinctively he swiped at Spyro with a claw, but in his daze he mis-spaced it and instead batted the little dragon with his hand, knocking him to the side. Recognizing his error, the tyrant took another shot at him, but his claws clanged off Tora's shield. ”UGH.” He let out an abrupt belch of fire to get them away. After hopping backward, the Nopon tossed his shield to Poppi, who executed a rocket-powered attack with some sort of extendable mechanism from the drill. It slammed into Megadragonbowser's mouth, cracking his jawbone, and clamped down with teeth he didn't even know exists. With a roar he scooted backward, the sharp pain clearing his head.. The ground where he'd been hunkering was covered in burning blood.

”LITTLE...PESTS. SO MANY...BUGS...I GOTTA SQUASH.” Jumping into the air, the tyrant beat his wings and flew behind his throne, using its back as a shield to protect his middle as he hung on with his claws. With narrowed eyes he scanned the room. He needed to deplete the enemy's ranks further; who was the easiest target? His eyes fell on the mage, the two kids, the bear and bird, the fat guy and his friend. It looked like they were just standing around, letting their allies do the fighting and take their lumps. A great idea struck him, and with little ceremony Megadragonbowser tore the back off his throne and hurled it at them, hopefully to squash the whole lot flat. ”HAH, EAT THAT, YOU SCUM!” he roared, forgetting that he'd been using that projectile for protection.

Tora and Poppi

Level 3 Tora - (21/30) EXP and Level 2 Poppi - (1/20) EXP
New Poppi Power Gained: Poppiswap
Location: Peach's Castle – Throne Room
Word Count: 464

Without a moment to lose, Tora and Poppi got into the action. The second or so it took to recover from defending against the ground wave saw a couple allies rush past and attack Megadragonbowser directly. The real Bowser, Tora figured, was relying on his size to avoid a messy end like those who preceded him, but the sight of Agoston hurtling forward send the team into a panic. Was he trying to get himself killed!? But the Centurion proved himself both brainy and brawny as he ran in, heedful rather than heedless. The tyrant's interceptor missed him easily, allowing the armored warrior to get in close and strike at his adversary's heel. Unable to protect Bowser and Donkey Kong, Tora and Poppi watched on high alert as they clashed, and a moment later the combatants came apart. Megadragonbowser received not a moment to lick his wounds as the heroes' ranged fighters hit hard and fast, culminating in a skull-rattling bombardment from Michael that tore the tyrant a proverbial new one.

What came next was a great chance to attack, but something about the way Spyro charged forward alarmed Poppi. “Masterpon,” she urged, pointed at the furious dragon as he ran. “Friend lizard not being careful. Could end up just like robot of girl earlier!” Nodding, Tora started to run. After a moment, Poppi activated her boosters and picked him up to cover more ground, and Blazermate -sensing a gambit in the works- followed behind.

A stroke of profound luck kept Spyro from becoming hamburger, with Megadragonbowser's palm bowling him over sideways, but Tora knew he wouldn't be so fortunate a second time. “Release!” he exclaimed, and Poppi let go to sent him sailing into the path of the tyrant's next attack. Shield met claw, and this time the boss's swipe proved insufficient. He reeled back as Tora landed, and the Nopon threw his shield to his partner. “Poppi, time to combine power!”

“Understood! Preparing to strike!” Energy surrounded Poppi as she powered up the shield, spinning it to maximum overdrive as she landed. “Jet Biter!” Its three thrusters ignited in one burst, and from the shield's center extended a heavy ball with chomping teeth on a scissor mechanism. It wreaked havoc on Megadragonbowser's already-brutalized face, forcing him to retreat.

The sight almost brought a smile to both driver and blade's faces, but it was too early to celebrate just yet. The tyrant moved behind his throne, then a moment later ripped off a part of it to hurl over the melee fighters' heads at a more distant group. “Meh meh!!” Tora and Poppi were too far forward to help. Either the targets would have to kick it into gear, or Bowser himself would have to try and intercept or deflect the thrown throne.

The Master of Masters and Kirby

Location: Peach's Castle – Out Front

A sudden noise from the direction of the castle doors provided a distraction from Minako and Linkle's monotonous containment procedure. The familiar yet mysterious figure of the black-robed Master of Masters had emerged and clapped himself against the door, breathing heavily. On his head, a stark contrast in terms of color, was the happy-go-lucky pink puff, Kirby. “Yike-aroonies!” the keyblade wielder wheezed, “Little too hot in there to handle, eh, Kirbs?” He looked up, prompting his passenger to smile obliviously. “Aww, isn't he just the cutest darned thing?” the Master of Masters crooned, looking over at the nearest girl for confirmation. Somehow, he then seemed to notice they were there. “Oh hey, kids! What's up? I was wondering where you went.” His obscured face hid the curious look he gave to Linkle, but his wince at the state of her new ears could be far more easily discerned. “Oooh...hey, let me give you a hand with that. Heal!”

Around her blossomed a well of green energy and momentary flora. When it faded, her condition had improved considerably. Walking over, the Master of Masters peered into the moat, and spotted Junpei locked in his exercise of futility. “Huh? You're just keeping him here? Why didn't you...ohhhh, you weren't around when Kirbifer here showed how to give a heart.” He put his hands together, making a heart with his fingers. Nothing appeared in the middle. “Here's the deal: it's a matter of your heart's strength. If you're there, you'll be able to make one by doing...this!” With dramatic flair, the Master of Masters clutched at his own heart, then raised his hands high. Voice raised, he called out, “And a glorious heart will appear! Toss it on someone under the influence, and they'll snap right out of it.” He crossed his arms as something occurred to him. “Or, if neither of you are there, I could try unsealing him with my keyblade...” For a moment, his exuberant voice turned dubious. As much as he wanted to free Minako's friend, the energy it might take from him could have disastrous consequences. That could happen again. The Master of Masters shuddered, and gave a shrug. “Er, I could freeze him for you while you heart him. The ol' castin' hand ain't what it used to be, but I'm sure I could hold him for a few seconds in the water. You get me?”

Fighting King: Brawl in the Streets

Llexe

Llexe

Name: Llexe
Alias: The Red-hot Riot
Age: 24
Nationality: Great Britian
Gender: Female
Appearance: A wiry, busty woman standing at 5'7”. She sports short maroon hair, redder toward the ends, choppy in back but long in front, even covering one eye. Her face, often bearing a dull, distant expression under normal circumstances, is a touch gaunt but well-shaped. Her only visible eye is a light gray, almost white, but it doesn't seem natural. A somewhat thick eyebrow is cloven by two scars that run across her eye. Despite her lack of apparent care for her appearance, she wears matching lipstick. On the left side of her face, mostly hidden beneath her hair, are worrisome red markings. She usually wears torn-up dark blue jeans and a modern black-and-orange jacket, zipped all the way. However, she does own another garment that she will wear on very rare, special occasions.
History: Llexe's story is necessarily bound to that of another: a man by the name of Osmun. Possessed of a sour, possessive attitude from an early age and spoiled by negligent parents, he grew into an antisocial, hateful, entitled young man, particularly where girls were concerned. Convinced by certain subsections of online culture that he was an 'incel', denied the attention and respect he felt himself owed by those he denigrated as 'chads', sluts, or members of inferior races, he thought no degeneracy beneath him. When his parents found out about his hideous actions, not just online but in public, they disowned him in disgust. On his own, Osmun looked long and hard for a way to fulfill his fantasies and get back at the people who he saw as having it coming, the brainless sheeple who had it so easy in life. Eventually, as it happened, he found it.

Osmun discovered a way to break himself fundamentally, in a way altogether different from any brokenness before. He gave up something he held most dear, and gained a supernatural ability, the very thing his twisted heart desired most deeply: Morph. With this power, he could rewrite the building blocks of the human form, changing both body and mind as he pleases so long as he could focus. Able to use it to shapeshift into any disguise he wanted, he went out in the world and began claiming victims. He developed an invincible method: isolate the target, hit the mind with a jolt that leaves them 'blank', and then forcibly morph the victim to prevent recognition as he makes his getaway with them. At first, the creep aimed low, taking victims that wouldn't be missed or that presented the perfect opportunity. An idea struck him to create a site on the dark web known as Mail-Order Mine, with which he took requests from customers for final products to sell once he had his fun with them. Eventually, feeling invincible, the creep began to aim higher. He took contracts to make certain people 'disappear', and used those victims to increase his site's stock. Increasingly public figures began to vanish, and never was the perpetrator caught nor the victim seen again.

Eventually, the creep set his sights on a pop idol, a celebrity renowned for her singing. He targeted her not because of a contract, but simply because he found her too happy and confident with her success, and he vowed to make her his. Soon, she too vanished off the face of the earth. Her captor wiped out her mind and her memories, changed her to suit his desires, and tortured her without mercy. Before long, however, she ceased to satisfy, and the creep looked outward again. This time, however, he made a fatal mistake. The next woman he attempted to capture, a notorious criminal by the name of Loxley, turned out to belong to a hidden organization. When he failed to snag her, she pursued him to his hideout using her own ability, and along with two other organization members destroyed his den of depravity. Under threat to his life, Loxley forced him to join her crew to use his power for the organization's own ends. In his hideout Loxley's cohorts found a certain victim, broken in all ways but one, and after provoking a terrifying anger in her brought her back, subdued, to the organization's leader. He awakened Llexe, granting her an ability of her own, and after restoring her as best he could, gave her a new purpose with the promise of revenge against the man who ruined her life. With a new inner strength, Llexe pledged herself to the organization, glad to be and do whatever it required so long as she could annihilate her enemies; never did she become aware of her tormentor's fellow allegiance. Carona City is her first real assignment—a test run to see what she can do in the field.

Personality

Motivations: Outwardly, Llexe seems to want nothing more than to fight, to eradicate the lowlifes troubling Maryland. However, this comes across more as a mission assigned to her than a personal goal, and it includes a hidden caveat: keep tabs on other fighters of note. On a personal level, she wants revenge against her tormentor, and to brutalize any other such scum she might find for her own satisfaction. Without any idea of her past self, she longs to be at peace.
Sexuality: Straight
Likes:

• Losing herself in the heat of battle
• Crushing her foes
• Sleeping
• Music, particularly pop

Dislikes:

• Abuse
• Lust
• Minor annoyances & being bothered
• Trashing celebrities

General: Llexe is an altogether simple individual. She is a berserker, defined by her vicious recklessness and frightening strength when fighting. In combat, she acts without hesitation or mercy, but not without intelligence; indeed, while she displays little in the way of real intelligence, her cunning in a fight is deadly. When enraged, which she is wont to become at the slightest provocation, this loose cannon actively seeks more destruction. In more normal circumstances, however, she seems to lose her spark. Wearing a vacant face, she is detached and unresponsive as if half-asleep, highly reluctant to actively engage with others or the world around her. In fact, she does fall asleep easily in such a state. She does, however, attend to her needs and will do what she's told without complaint. The only time she seems to awaken other than for violence is for music, which seldom fails to capture her attention. When she's not half-asleep, listening to music, or fighting, she is brusque, snappy, and annoyed.

Fighting Arts

Skills: In terms of mundane skills, Llexe doesn't seem to have much of any. However, while she'll never do it, she is a very talented singer and performer.

Fighting Style: Hysteria, a savage custom fighting style that, though wild and reckless, is in fact coordinated, calculated, and brutally effective. To put it plain, while it may seem like Llexe throws away proper technique when going berserk, there is a definite method to her madness. It is fairly impulsive, and Llexe is not at all above grabbing at enemies' equipment or objects around her to use as weapons. Deriving more from all-out street brawling and the feral fighting style of animals than any established tradition, Hysteria is unique to Llexe because it essentially requires its user to have her ability, Rage, or at least comparable pain tolerance and fortitude. At its basic level, Rage is more passive than active, strengthening her based on her anger. While it doesn't prevent Llexe feeling pain or being hurt, she is able to keep fighting at full strength after taking damage, even severe injury. In fact, Rage makes Llexe stronger when she's suffering. It is also what makes possible the weaponization of her voice. Without Rage, Hysteria would be little more than the mad flailing of a fool.

Weaknesses: While going berserk doesn't mean going stupid, she's definitely not firing on all cylinders, and tends to forego defense, meaning she takes a lot of damage. Very heavy/high-defense opponents who can take her attacks present particularly dangerous counterattacks. She is weak against disjointed long-range attack; that is to say, projectiles. Though she can fight will enough without Rage, Llexe needs it to go all-out, and since it draws power directly from her anger, she has to be legitimately mad to use it. Anything that calms her down will make her less powerful.

Special Techniques:

• Rebel Yell, a powerful scream loud enough to stagger enemies and deafen them temporarily.
• Roll Over, a jumping technique that involves Llexe curling into a spinning ball as she flies upward, after which she can execute a downward slash, a heavy midair slash, a diagonal dive attack, or nothing.
• Honey Trap, a quick lunging grapple. Once landed, Llexe uses her agility to wrap around and end up on the victim's shoulders, ready to use her weight to throw the opponent or simply attack the head.

Super Arts: Trigger-heart, an install super that temporarily transforms Llexe into a stronger form. In this form, her skin is like flexible metal and her musculature, while still lean, is far denser, increasing both her strength and durability. She also gains vicious talons on her fingers and toes, and her screams are also louder and stronger.
Exp: 0
Equipment: Llexe has a pair of fortified combat gloves that provide her hands and forearms some protection. The fingers also have clawed metal tips.

Other: Though Llexe is allowed to do whatever she wants in Carona City so long as she completes her mission, there is one contact from her organization in the city also, keeping an eye both on her -to monitor her progress- and anyone else of interest she finds. This organization is tight-knit, small, and secretive; it is not open for membership by other characters.

Fighting King

This could be fun.