Calming blue vapors blanketed the air in the Harm Pit, seeping off the walls, the people, the long-unvarnished woods all carved up in names and reproductive organs. Zaff was scratching some of her own as she waited for Striker to arrive. The Prince was sitting on the bar proper, yogurt cup in hand, avoiding the looks of the drowsy clientele. Even the bartender, mollified by the vapors, didn't so much as object as the enormous goat again reached over him, for more free yogurt.
Chunky milk didn't quite sate her hunger for something substantial and alive. It was why she avoided looking at the konatsians who, helpless as they were, promised to be such a fine and cruel meal that she could practically hear shinjins weep... Alas, she could not feat as a royal demon should! Not without jeopardizing her place in the Novas, and more importantly, the power (and companionship) that'd come with it. She nibbled blue-rock instead, desperate to get the local brain-dampener of choice to have any effect on her, and take her mind away from eating people.
It went down smoothly with the yogurt, but it had no effect. "Fie!"
When would Striker come? Jinx had arranged for their meeting, but perhaps it was unlike mortals to show up either too early or too late, as is required of demons! Again, Zaff scratched some more on the bar, a figure of a previous self with biiiiiiiiig and mighty horns.
TWC: 236
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
Last Edit: Jan 21, 2023 22:34:57 GMT -5 by Zaffran
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
The very small and very strong green fuzzball didn't stay around the worst part of towns for long. Not without knowing just who or what was around. Gangs purportedly ran some of the blocks and would harass you for entering their domain, but Striker didn't really need to worry about that as much as the image of going around being people already down further and further into the pit Lux put them in. Jinx wasn't exact on who this was she would be meeting, but gave her a description of the place at least.
It was easy to spot and just as easy to enter. A blue haze fell out of a small building (for Lux) called the Harm Pit. Lotta Pits around here. Opening its doors, she scrunched her face up at the smell and sensation of the vapors flooding the place. What few patrons were Lucid didn't really seem to pay her any mind. All three feet of her would stamp on over to the biggest, baddest looking thing in there. Shoving past a few dazed frat boys to get to them. A big, goat looking person with a bit of their horn missing. Blue eyes bead up at her before the fauxbian would hop on up into a stool nearby. Conspicuous as ever.
"Hey! You look interesting. Are you who I think you are?" She was small, cartoonishly exaggerated in proportion, and clearly not local. Yet she seemed to carry herself like she owned the place. Smiling and showing off those pearly sharp whites.
Thread PL: 40,000 WC: 257
Last Edit: Jan 21, 2023 22:49:26 GMT -5 by Striker
What fairytale critter was this, a person not much bigger than the animal they resembled? Zaffran watched in silent adoration as the Nova - as green, small, and rodent-like as described by Jinx, more confident yet than the majin's words had make justice to - jumped unto to a stool. Cute! Supremely cute! The kind of cute one sought in plushies, it reminded Zaff of those in her collection! Was anyone taking care of them back home?
"Why, hellooooo~!" the yogurt cup didn't spill even as the Prince gave twisted into a sitting bow, waving hands about like the most prim royal. Returned to her previous position, she chugged the rest of the cup quickly and put it aside. "I am who you think I am -- yes, I! Should you think mine I as me rather than the I of another someone's else's. Then again, it's been so long a time since I assumed an identity, you'd think my own would have no enemies! It's the titles, there's the rub! Lacking any, a name's worth pennies."
Having talked herself into sadness, the goat grabbed some more yogurt from the shelf. The markedly cheapest brand they had, actually, as she could not read Demonic script, much less the squiggles used by mortals. She peeled the lid and took a sip -- unaware that it was meant to be consumed with a spoon. "I am Zaffran, a pleasure. And you must be Striker! A virile name, that. You must have a story." she reached out with one neatly trimmed hand, an attempt at a handshake from someone much more used to having her commanding hand kissed.
TWC: 500
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
Last Edit: Jan 22, 2023 23:41:09 GMT -5 by Zaffran
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
Oh god, she got the same look Salvo gave her. She remained calm however, confident that this one would not be so clingy as to snuggle with the life-sized walking and talking plush. Her smirk only widened as she was addressed, leaning an elbow on the counter as she watched the bigger Nova make some funny gestures while seated in the introduction. They were eating something, like pudding? Yogurt? She couldn't really tell by smell since the haze of the place overrode her senses. it didn't help she spoke in riddles and fancy idiom like Striker was supposed to get it.
"Yeah, hey." She'd again reply plainly, eyeing whatever this place had for 'food' while they spoke. She could probably grab herself a little steak or something. Anything meat-related. At this point, she was craving a bit of it. Already working up an appetite around this one. No clue if the bartender was even paying her half a mind though.
"Ohhh, so you've heard! I know, I know, big name and all. Before I decided to join up with the who gang and all that I did my own work solo around Lux. And I still have the band I play with here! I'm the vocalist and lead direction for the Dead presidents! Pretty cool, huh?" A handshake, huh. Striker reeled a hand back and joined the two halves together to give the demon a good shake. Maybe getting a little too into it as she probably rattled the woman's arm a good bit. Constraint was not in her vocabulary.
"And Jinx wanted me to test you, I think. I'm like, the sort to go to for fighting and stuff. Figured that's why we met out here of all places."
The foodstuffs in Harm Pit were the expected for a clandestine bar full of old and affordable Luxian swank: yogurt of varied provenance, spiced liquors, and choice cuts of scarab meat. Finding a steak here, even the dehydrated kind used in space-travel, would be the sort of miracle that'd deeply unsettle Zaffran -- and calm as she was, that'd be a tragedy!
She smiled at the neon runt, touched by this name she wore so enthusiastically. Striker! A simple noun for a simple woman, made happy with vocalizations and giving directions. Zaff herself was known for making vocalizations, whistling in particular, and directing people towards chaos, and that, too, made her quite happy. She slapped the counter "That is cool as nice!" the Prince hoisted her newest cup of yogurt, sprinkling some Mortal lingo in her speech as Jinx had advised her "Dead Presidents? The only good kind, I tell you. My Realm's as a shambles because of those who'd be Legions -- rather than admit the rule of Kings and their Princes! Why, need I say that I'm not given to politics? But horns crowning imps, the very thought boils my blood, it does..." she ended the outburst with a solemn sip, eyes glazed with thoughts of bloody murder. As varied as mortals, demons were no closer on agreeing on anything, and Zaffran was particularly fond of sharing her opinion -- even to mortals who couldn't make sense of her words, nay, especially those.
"Ah, a test... Lovely! To prove myself a woman of power, if not in brute strength, then guile." Zaff tried not to smile too sheepishly, finally accepting that there were mortals -- mere mortals! -- stronger even than her much loathed rival Erebos, who was himself much stronger than her. That, too, boiled her blood. "Shall we fight there?" she pointed at the heretofore unmentioned fighting ring, near the far and stenchiest corner of the Harm Pit. Sigils around the sides would allow the fighters inside to go relatively ham, without stirring the environment beyond the ropes of the arena. "I should tell you that I have no formal training. Back home, 'twas enough to outmuscle my prey! It's why I have these, but not much fighting ability." pulling a sleeve back, the goat revealed a tightly corded arm, all fur and muscle that she flexed in beating motions. It took dedication to become so hewed.
TWC: 883
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
Last Edit: Jan 23, 2023 12:25:05 GMT -5 by Zaffran
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
Striker must have lucked out with the few other demons she met beforehand who didn't sound like they were on the cusp of monarchism. The simple fauxbian gave her a few blinks and leaned back in her stool. Taking whatever jerky was offered her and making the barkeep frick off with a few credits. Little strands of whatever local konatsian herd animal was made short work by their teeth.
"That sounds cool and all. What does that make you, royalty to nothing? Cause I don't think I've really seen demons in any group or society or anything." Striker didn't know much about them or their realm, not enough to decipher this beyond ramblings of a madwoman. At least she understood what a 'test' entailed for the pair. Pointing out a lovely ring out in the corner that had to be maybe a little bigger than it needed to be to hold anyone super-powered like Striker. She gave it a lookover from her seat before taking the rest of the jerky in one chomp and hopping on over.
"You won't have to worry about training or anything, Zaffster. I'm not trained either, you see! All my power is natural, a gift from my homeworld. As far as I can tell I've almost always been like this." She'd flex too, not nearly having the bold muscle someone more human-looking had. Still, couldn't look past that confidence to see she knew she was tough. Not enough to constantly monitor her power, but enough to know she squished most people she fought. Jinx clocked her in at four Kili last time!
"Stretch or whatever else you need before we start!" She'd climb on into the ring, waving away the dank vapors and limbering herself up with a few stretches of her own. Bending low for some calf pulls and also twisting her torso back and forth. She could spring into action whenever, but she didn't know how the horned one operated.
The Prince's grip turned to a strangle, glugs of yogurt dribbled down her fingers "Royalty to NOTHING." She took a rib-rattling breath, focusing her attention on the stunted bartender, and how his head would make for a less controversial meal than Striker's. Perhaps the toy rodent had spoken from ignorance, yes? Perhaps her oversized, yet vacantly furnished, head could not grasp the importance of such things to someone such as Titleless and Exiled Zaffran!
"Outcasts and clause-bounds, is what you've seen. I'm better than all of them." the demon answered cooly, wiping her hands on yesterday's newspaper while following the short-hopping Mobian with small, slow strides "I'm a personage of a higher caliber. Moulded from greater sin, for greater destinies! The weakest Prince in the Woods yet may rule the Realms. Nay, I will, right as Death!" more low, threatening mumbled oaths continued in inexhaustible supply, Zaffran set into position and kept on cursing until being called "Zaffster?"
She placed a hand over her (own) charcoal heart. Never before had any living mortal so strongly make her want to wrap them in blankets and feed them nutritious gruel. Then, Zaff thought, she'd read them a story, croon them to sleep. As Dad had done to her, as a kid! To great effect!
"Warming up before a tussle, how fetch." the demon dislocated her arms with a shrug, and with a shrug placed them back. Then she'd spring each leg from its hip, before stomping them back. Fingers rotated, elbows circled, a jaw slumped from its place, each articulation was pushed, pulled, set again in its place before Zaff would clap her hands. Small pentagrams and flicker-fires flew from her in place of an aura. She put her hands out, balled into arcane fists "Come and get it, shortstack!"
TWC: 1179
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
"... I like your attitude. Think we'll get along just fine, Z!" So, the rest of them are just neer-do-wells compared to this flamboyant prince. Striker finally smirked up at the big demon, finishing her own stretches while the demon just started theirs. In a weird way, like a yolked-out oversized wrestler trying to intimidate his opponent way with pops and creaks as bones dislocated. She wasn't phased though, more so worried she might develop a weird relationship with this one as she had Salvo.
She knew what those eyes meant.
"Yeah, that's normal for a friendly bout. And I'm not here to knock your head off or anything. Unless... Can you survive one of those?" Ahh, who cared? She'd smack a fist into an open palm and stomp forward too as her own sign of readiness, taking the bait wholesale and lunging forth. She half expected the demon to try throwing the first punch but here she was, trying to compensate for the tighter space of the ring with by hopping up and starting with a wild uppercut! Jumping to reach the chin before she'd linger in the air and try giving the horned one a few quick jabs. The fauxbian was deceptively quick with her exaggerated form, a blink of the eye for most people looking at her.
Shame she couldn't start with her big stuff yet.
Striker will beat up the goat with a High-Speed Beatdown (1KP 20% | 8,000)!
"I quite like my head where it is." she chuckled, nervous, considering buying time with more stretching.
Before Zaff had the chance to admit that she also liked Striker's attitude, the rat dashed forward and socked the goat across the jaw! As she bounded floundering from the ring rope, the Fauxbian kept the pressure on with a flurry of punches that were met with gasps and wheezes. One, two seconds tops had passed, and already Zaffran was falling to one knee, retching, flat hands on the ground and trembling all over.
"I just had a ton of yogurt, you cretinous- You don't even look that strong!" she propped herself up, pulling on the thug's shoulder for support, hand raised in the universal sign of 'STOP' "Wait, what is this... Is this blood!?" tears stung at the corner of Zaff's feral eyes, but not as bad as the swelling welts left by the high-speed strikes. Thumbing away the teardrops, Zaff grit her teeth. She hadn't checked for blood. It hurt, from her jaw to her belly, it all hurt! Whether she was bleeding or not, the hurt was real!
It hurt, yes. But not too much. The Prince was formulating a plan, all thoroughout. With Striker close, and held on by the shoulder, Zaff swung a slap ripe with dark energy -- shaped as luminescent caltrops, made of evil "I got you now!"
Zaff uses Burst Nightmare Fear Shot (PL: 14,000)!
KP: 2/6 MP: 3/6 DMG: 40%
TWC: 1410
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
Last Edit: Jan 24, 2023 11:23:29 GMT -5 by Zaffran
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
Striker and holding back were loose terms to throw together. Sure, she could try less dangerously bombastic options like the punches here, but she had no real way of knowing just how strong someone was or how much she was putting her through. She was punching a sandbag it sounded like, which gave the little fuzzball a moment of pause as she fell to the floor more graciously than the prince. Frowning a bit and crossing her arms up at her.
"Yeah? Looks aren't everything, Horns. I was born for this sorta stuff. I honestly thought you were going to be a little sturdier, just looking at you." She felt a little sorry, but the demon should know the combatants would both be ready once they stopped stretching and limbered up. Now wasn't the time to throw prose at the green alien she fought. Instead, she whimpered and clung to the much smaller rodent. Awkward.
"I don't think you're bleeding-" WHAM. The demon would use the close proximity to slam a load of strange projectiles in her face. Tiny little dark things that would force the girl to back away and bat the demon's arm off her shoulder.
"Hey!" She'd give the demon another swift kick to the abdomen, aiming to send her straight up and back on her feet.
"HA!" Zaffran would roar victorious, before having her insides further churned by a kick that Striker used to spring back up. Clutching her midriff as if the guts might jump out, the Prince stuck out her tongue through a widening smile "Can't you see, Strikypoo? Wily wills wield wild, wild wills wilt while!" she stretched to her farthest wingspan and flexed, battered and yet imposing in the sheer theatrics that she exuded. The Prince cackled in reflex, lacking the beard and the horns, and yet so closely resembling her father that light shuddered, water iced, thunder struck outside despite the clear, chilly night! Unaware of all this, the goat thought she had just won a couple of seconds to recover.
It dawned on her just now that she might have offended the poor plushie -- upon whose judgement depended her future...
"Am Ito fight true? Or pretend that I have no fun when fighting your kind?" by this she meant strong mortals, or at least mortals so strong that she could neither force or torment into exhaustion, without expending much effort in the process -- weaklings were her favorite meal, but not the people thing to trick. Not waiting for an answer, she catapulted forward, arms raised in a guard for a full-body crash.
KP: 6/6 MP: 5/6 DMG: 40%
TWC: 1624
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
Striker didn't worry so much about the fancy tricks to try intimidating her or the fact Zaff played a little loose and dirty with her moves. No, in a fight, anything really went so long as you had fun doing it. The fauxbian sprung back and watched the big crazy demon spout some nonsense. It got a short laugh out of the cocky rodent before she'd lower her fists and just smirk up at the woman.
"I don't care what you do in the fight, just know you aren't the only one getting to have fun in it! Anything goes, fight dirty!" She'd outright encourage the demon, waiting for the big gal to read back and put up arms for a tackle using the whole body. Poor choice of offense, considering the opponent. None of the demon's fault though, not many would figure the small, diminutive alien fuzzball to suddenly curl up into a ball in the ring and start spinning in place. Before the larger woman could notice and pull back from her dedicated assault this ball would then suddenly launch forth. Hopping up and slamming into Zaff's guard to break it up. Spending all that momentum it was gaining by spinning in place.
"Surprise!"
Striker will bash against the woman's charge using her own Spindash Bash (2KP 40% | 16,000) @ Zaff!
With the tactics and instincts of a pampered bully, Zaffran was struggling to actually plan ahead. This became deathly apparent once Striker, rather than dash away as expected, somersaulted (in place!!) so fast that she looked as though a bright green ball of rabies. Very confused and a bit wary, the hellish fiend tried to dodge by slapping the plywood floor and launching herself up -- but her opponent was much faster! Quilled freak and weirded out goat collided in mid-air, but only the latter one screamed:
"What in blazes are you-!?"
Without planning, Zaff kneed the ball, wearing the tiniest grimace as satin, fur, skin tore away from sheer friction. Hells, she needed a plan quickly but ideas wouldn't come! All she could think about was how bad her knee would hurt once the adrenaline tapered off... She swapped knees, hoping it'd help.
Then, she swapped knees again, striking the fauxbian a third time.
The idea blessedly came at last. Zaffran would use her opponent's momentum against herself by kneeing the dizzying thing repeatedly, hopefully nullifying the charge completely, or even concuss the rat brain to slurry. It wasn't the most princely idea, but it was an idea, and those clearly were in short supply.
Zaff uses Burst Nightmare Fear Shot (4KP | 70% | 14,000) [reflavoured as Executioner Mad Knee Fury] with Tenacious!
The attacks CLASH and FIZZLE!
KP: 3/6 (-3) MP: 6/6 DMG: 40%
TWC: 1829
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent
HELLBOUND SORCERY ZAFFRAN "An itsy-bitsy favor! A little, widdle murder."
It was never not fun hearing people's reactions to her funny moves. It added to the surprise factor, launching herself as a speeding ball that not many could stop. Even as the demon protested and wondered just what the heck she even was for doing this, she would prove at least capable of stopping her forward momentum with a few knee strikes. Suddenly, she was juggling the fauxbian like a soccer ball. She was used to people just socking her with a good kick, not whatever this was.
"whoaoioaooaooa-" She shouted past the rapid kneeing that laster a few seconds too long for her. She'd catch the third strike hitting her as she'd uncurl and push herself up with two hands. Getting eye-level with the demon with a little smirk.
"I'm Striker, the one and only. Good job stopping that little roll, pipsqueak!" Striker would tease and push off the knee with her hands. Suddenly fliping aroudn to deliver a swift few kicks at the girl's chest. Blitzing speeds hard to track before she tried kicking off with a last double drop kick. Pushing herself away from Zaffran with the force and landing back away from her in the ring. Graceful little three-point stuck before she quickly straightened back up into a ready stance.
"Let's see you do it again!"
Striker activates a 2MP Technique Boost!
Striker gives the goat demon another good High-Speed Beatdown (1KP 20%30% | 12,000)!
Zaffran cackled in sadistic delight, until the noisome blur uncurled and sprung from her knee. "PIPSQUEAK!? I'm almost three of you!" she tried to prod an eye, but barely touched its blue afterimage -- Striker was already delivering kick after kick, kept from the ground with the sheer force and speed of each. Sadly, Zaffran was too mad or too hurt to appreciate the feat, and the patrons and bartenders too asleep. The finishing drop kick met with the noble, groomed face that the goat so prided on. She fell against the ropes, jaw askew, chest rattling with anger.
"Um guin tuitu--"
The Prince slapped the mandible back to place. She wasn't smiling, or in awe. Rage burned inside her and she couldn't so much as threaten to make a meal out of Striker, her family, and everyone else in this wretched backwater planet, as they shared a social circle... And, vexes and hexes, the cur was just too endearing! Regret would spoil the tasting.
Zaff stood up and massaged the swelling cheek, refusing to acknowledge it further than a piteous "Ow..."
"Ow."
"Ow."
Her grip on the ropes wavered as she ventured a step away. What to do? If speed was the Fauxian's game, then perhaps injuring (non-permanently) a knee or two...
Summoning a scrape of majesty, Zaff glared at Striker's legs as though they were the source of every pain, humiliation and sweat-shedding experienced today. A translucent bolt of hatred shot from her eyes.
Zaff uses Evil Eyes Damnation Stare (1KP | 20(+10)% | 6,000) with Power Boost!
KP: 2/6 (-1) MP: 4/6 (-2) DMG: 100% (+60%)
TWC: 2074
ITEMS AND RESOURCES Dark Departure, Otherworld Training, Tenacious, Raw Talent