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View Full Version : Sunnydale Home - Rykosar vs Sirius



SaulMurphy
07-21-2014, 03:51 AM
Here is the Civil War battle between Kyra's Rykosar and Boomerangreturns's Sirius Nightshade. They have the luck of being in an oldage home called "Sunnydale Home". Enjoy, may the best writer win.

Sirius Nightshade:
What the hell am I doing here?

That was one of the first things that came to Siriusí mind. He had somehow been dragged along with the elderly of Stickpage and ended up surrounded by aging, graying individuals. He was just outside of the retirement home that they all lived in. The elderly that couldnít necessarily take care of themselves. The grass was green and lush, and many of the old hags were sitting in the grass or in the lawn chairs spread about, sipping sun tea and talking about their past. Guards were making their rounds to be sure that one of them didnít run off. Sirius sat in one of the vacant lawn chairs, resting as he looked up into the great blue sky. The sun bore down on his face. He wanted to leave, but something told him not to. He hated being surrounded by them. Their wrinkled skin, their glossy eyes and their constant stories of the Olde War made him grimace and sigh in his head.

When I was a young boyÖ

Donít you remember the Battle At The Gates?

God, I still have the scars.

His face was burdened with a heavy frown, his mind burdened with the murderous thoughts and the superiority complex that had chipped away at his mental state over the passing years.

This was exactly why he had murdered his family. They were all aging, gradually losing their youth with each passing breath. It was a horrible sight for him to see. Sirius was young. He was agile, strong. His face was unsullied, his body frail but strong. These old hags that surrounded him were just sculptures of dust made into human beings. They did not have the youth he had any longer. Only memories. Memories of people who had died before them. Memories of life when they were in their prime.

It sickened him to the very core.

He looked around at all of them, his jet black bangs partially covering his face so that the elderly would not notice his eyes or scars. No reason to needlessly scare them. Theyíd probably have a heart attack just by looking into his soulless hues. He continued to contemplate it. They wouldnít even be able to resist it. He would murder them all in a heartbeat. He was having a bad day as it was, like always. It was only amplified by the loss of his flash bangs. It would be great to take out his anger on these old hags that did not need to live anyway. His knife sliding across the jugular veins of each and every one of them. The elder humans gasping for air, grabbing at their throats as hot, crimson blood spurted out of it and onto the ground. Their eyes becoming glassy, the life leaving their face.

Sirius closed his eyes, flexing his shoulders as chills ran up and down his spine, a small smile curling on his lips. The very thought excited him as if he was reaching a pleasurable climax. Oh, the very thought of the pools of blood around him, surrounded by their bodies.

His hand moved down to rest on the sheath of his knife, grasping it in anticipation.

All of those bodiesÖ

Destroyed by his sullied bladeÖ

It would be an amazing sensation.

ďYou have such wonderful hair.Ē

The shaky voice of an elderly woman entered his ear drums, destroying his day dream. His eyes fluttered open, although still vastly concealed by his bangs. He glared at her with malevolent intent. She was in a pair of tan khaki pants and a T-shirt. She seemed particularly old. As if she would die at any moment. Hell, veins were shown protruding from her skin all over. Her body was filled with wrinkles and moles. Her skin looked fragile enough for one poke to break it. The murderous intent in his eyes were evident. However, he gritted his teeth.

ďThank youÖĒ

ďOh, youíre very welcome, honey.Ē A hand rested on his shoulder, patting it a few times before the old woman walked away. To another group of elders.

He had all he could do to not stab her through the head just then. Inconsiderate. Ill mannered. What business did they even have on this already dying planet? They only make it worse than it already is.

Somehow, Sirius was once again dragged along the wave of elderly hags, ending up just in front of the door to the retirement home. No. There was absolutely no way he would be caught dead going inside of that place. He already hated the few that were outside. Going inside, being surrounded by them. It would turn into a massacre of blood and death.

Knowing this, Sirius turned to leave. But then he stopped in his tracks. His path was once again stopped, but not by elderly hags this time. His pitch black eyes examined him. A massive man with scars running all over his body, as if he had been consistently operated upon. Next to him was a homeless looking man, peering at Sirius.

A low growl escaped from his lips. Enough was enough. This day had started horrendously with his loss of flash bangs. He ended up with all of these elders the whole day, and now he was being stopped by a scarred older man and a bum. His pitch black eyes sparked with anger.

It only took a split second. The flap covering the hilt of Massacre flipped open, his right hand grasping it tightly and pulling it out swiftly. In the same motion that it was pulled from itís place the tip of his unsullied blade aimed to slash at the jugular vein of the other male. All of his anger would be taken out on him, and maybe Sirius would feel a little bit better.

But instead of a satisfying sound of skin breaking, blood spurting and the satisfying noise of screams, all he heard was a clank of two metals meeting.

The massive male had guarded his companion with his hand. At first glance, it seemed like a normal hand. But it must have been metallic in some form to make a clanking sound like that. Siriusí glance darted up to the scarred man, where they shared an intense stare. His pitch black hues bore into the other male who was surprised by such a sudden attack. With his other hand, he shoved Sirius backwards. He didnít expect it, since he was staring so intently at the opponent. A rookie mistake that should not have been made at such a crucial point.

Despite being aged, the male was rather strong. His shove sent Sirius flying, through the open door and into the home that he did not want to enter in the first place. He was immediately attacked by the stale air and the smell of death and waste. All around him, the elderly that resided in the lobby of the home made a circle around him and the scarred man that was walking towards him. Sirius, who was surprised and stunned for a moment at his strength, was now angry once again. He jumped to his feet, standing erect within moments. His knife was still gripped tightly in his hand. The bum he had tried to murder was hiding in the crowd of old men and women.

I havenít seen any good fight since the Olde War.

Donít kill each other boys!

My bet is on the emo kid

Nah, I bet on the guy with the scars.

Sirius tried his best to block out the voices of these annoyances, and focus on the male in front of him. The anger in Siriusí eyes intermingled with excitement, at another opponent to destroy. A crooked smile followed.

ďCome on old man, letís see what the hell you got left in the tankĒ

The heavy fist of his opponent came first. Even with such a heavy hand due to the clanks of metal, he was rather fast. However, he wasnít fast enough. Sirius craned his neck to the left, grasping the metal fist in his palm as his free hand came flying to his ribs. An oof came from his opponent, however, Siriusí hand took a deal of pain. Based on the quiet clunk, it seemed his bones was another place that was replaced with metal parts. He winced and pulled his hand back, resulting in the humanoid hand to hook Sirius in the jaw. He stumbled backwards, before grasping at the collar of his jacket and rebounding forward, jumping on Rykosar and hitting him with a flurry of punches in unorthodox fashion, sending them both to the ground with Sirius on top.

That boy looks like he needs an evaluation.

A straightjacket, more like.

Itís working though, the big guyís on the ground!

Once his enemy hit the ground, Sirius rolled backwards until he was standing erect. The large, scarred enemy grunted as he stood up, and was already attacked by the horizontal swipe of Siriusí knife. He craned his neck just in time to only have the tip of the unsullied blade graze his cheek, drawing small amounts of blood. In response, Rykosarís metallic hand flung into his sternum shocking Sirius and shoving him backwards, forcing him to fall into the crowd of elderly, who pushed him forward to make him stand up again. However, he stood there, woozy for a few moments.

He stopped for a moment, cracking his neck as his eyes gave light to his growing instability. His tongue ran along his lips. He took a good, long look at his reflection in the red tipped blade of Massacre. Without warning, he thrust forward, slashing his blade once more, only to be met by the metallic hand of his opponent. However his opposite hand closed into a fist, flinging to the right cheek. The punch was stronger than one would think from a frail man such as Sirius, and giving him just the opening he had hoped for by stunning his enemy. His knife tilted to the side and swung once more for his face, but not at a fatal area. He swung it with grace and accuracy, slicing open one of the larger scars on his face. Unlike the small graze on his right cheek, this one opened up a rather deep incision, making puddles of crimson red blood to pour down his face.

Heís drawn blood!

Gah, the janitor isnít going to particularly like this.

Canít we all just get along?

Shush! Iím loving this!

Rykosar stood for a moment, glancing at the blood oozing from his face. He then glanced back to Sirius, whose knife was growing with the multitude of blood cells being absorbed into the enhanced knife. Sirius jumped up and spun like a top, the arm where his knife was held extended. The dizzying spinning action ceased when Siriusí free hand grasped onto the maleís trench coat, and he swung over his back in an aim to slice his jugular vein and end the battle here. However, Rykosar had other ideas. He grasped Siriusí knife hand, and, using his brute strength, flipped him over his body on the hard ground, on his back. He attempted to stomp on the grounded manís sternum, but Sirius rolled out of the way and stood back up. He could already feel the bruises forming around his torso and head.

The two were so focused on the battle at hand, they barely took notice to Marat, who was within the crowd of the elderly, cheering his partner on. Sirius, who had just taken notice of him, snarled in defiance of the encouraging cheers. The homeless bum would have the privilege to see his partner die in cold blood.

And for a moment, the two just stood opposite of each other, staring into one anotherís menacing irises. Everybody wondered; Who would come out of this battle conscious, or even alive? Sirius showed disdain in his expression. He wanted to be the man standing tall. The size did not matter here, for Sirius had the speed. That was what he had used this whole time to stay on top of the battle at hand.

Death was going to be in the air by the time Sirius was finished.

However, unlike before, Rykosar was the first to strike. He lunged forward, thrusting his human hand towards Siriusí face. Out of pure instinct, he lifted his knife to connect with the fist, drawing more blood from yet another open wound. The metallic fist came flying at Siriusí left, connecting with his jaw and sending him stumbling back. Unlike the previous hit, it was known fully that his jaw was broken. In response, Sirius swung his knife to the other side of the maleís face, opening yet another scar, and drawing more blood from previously closed wounds. It seemed as though Sirius was winning. The stench and sight of blood caused him to lose his tactical precision. He didnít think he needed his shadow manipulation. Nor did he feel the need for the demon Bane. He felt that he could kill him right now.

As Rykosar stumbled from Siriusí slight of hand, he lunged forward again, his knife turned short sword aimed for the enemyís throat. He was not paying attention to how he was playing possum. Rykosar craned his neck to the side once more, and intertwined his hands as Sirius was still moving forward. Both the human and metallic hand came down as one, crashing against the back of Siriusí skull. His lips contorted into a deep frown, as he could feel himself falling. He fell forward, the corners of his vision blackening.

Did you see that?!

Oh my god, heís unconscious!

I won! Give me my money, suckers!

Dammit, I thought emo kid would take this one.

One last snarl emitted from Siriusí mouth as he heard the voices of the elderly surrounding his presence. He fell face first on the rug of the retirement home, his vision closing around him as he went into a deep slumber.

Rykosar:



Rykosarís expression sparked with panic and concern, his bearded homeless companion following into the retirement building as the elder limped inside. Marat peeked over the ancient manís shoulder to the younger man and the green eyes piercing like daggers into Rykosarís own.

ďIz tis, ehm, hwon uf hyour behttul men?Ē He would ask with a sheepishness that didnít seem normal for a man of his girth.

ďNo.Ē Rykosar responded, startling Marat with his bluntness. The old gladiatorís eyes trace over the forming crowd of elderly before snapping back to the young assaulter, addressing Marat still. ďGet these people out of here. Iíll take care of this.Ē

ďWhill du, eld sobaka.Ē Marat followed this by giving a rather light hearted pat on Rykosarís shoulder, likely to keep himself from falling into panic. He started left and began trying to move some of the residents back, if to give Rykosar some space before leading some outside.

With old manís gaze diverted, the younger gladiator pulled up his blade and pushed out in a charge towards Rykosar. The blade was brought up as he neared, dragging up across the old manís left arm as Rykosar pulled the arm up to shield his face from the weapon. It slid cleanly through the leather of his coat and into his skin, biting through and drawing blood. Or something like blood.

The black and red mixture sat along the edge of the weapon. The younger man looked to it expectantly, expression twisting as nothing happened.

Rykosar took quick advantage of this pause and aimed a punch, his left fist contacting manís jaw. It stuck true, but didnít carry as much force had he used his metal one instead. ďCan I have your name and reason, young man?Ē Heíd speak, watching the young man stumble back before plopping into a lounge chair.

With a heavy scowl bearing teeth, the younger gladiator quickly jumped back to his feet and brought his hands to chest height. As he twisted his open palm, black tendrils formed from the ground, peering out from the shadows of a coffee table. The shadows slipped through the obstacle course of people, even passing under Maratís boots which caused a start and a ďDer'mo!Ē from the bearded man, his pace quickening but his words unable to keep up with his haste.

As the swirls of black reached the young gladiator, they clawed up his legs and slithered down his arm, gathering in the hand wielding his blade then began to reach out. They began extending and shaping into what appeared to be a bat from the handle of his blade. He grinned, feeding off of Rykosarís expression of shock when witnessing his power. ďSirius. Lord of the Night.Ē He announced, fingers clenched the handle of his blunt shadow weapon as two sides formed near the front, allowing it to take on the shape of a hammer.

ďAs for purpose-Ē He stole the distance between them with his weapon, swinging out and bringing a side of the head to the old manís temple. A cold pain flashed down the old manís spine, but he remained unmoved however lowering himself to a knee. Metal claws reached out and snagged against Siriusí sleeve.

Though disoriented from the hit, Rykosar tried to slow the next hit that followed. His chest was the next target, a cough bursting from the old man on impact. Sirius tugged back from Rykosarís grip before lowering his aim, smacking the old man clean in the stomach which prompted a terrible ragged shout in pain since there were no bones to protect that area.

ďWell, I can tell youíre a little wrapped up at the moment, so I wonít go into details on that.Ē

The old man toppled to the floor, the sound he made like a metal safe had been dropped. The floor could be heard groaning in protest to his weight, despite being sprawled out. As Sirius attempted to bring the hammer down on Rykosarís head again. The elder brought both hands up, clung to the head of the weapon and stopped it a safe distance from his face. The old man brought his left leg up and started trying to kick Sirius away, however not very effective.

Rykosar blinked sharply as the hammer in his grip dissipated into a fog, solidifying once it was out of his reach. Gasping from fatigue, his scarred face contorted into some sickening twist of emotions. Most of which spilling with fear. Sirius twitched at the sound of machinery, the clicks and snaps of metal and gears as Rykosar began lifting his metal leg up.

Sirius brought the hammer up to bring down on the old man, but was interrupted by a strike with the force of a small car to his left leg. The young manís foot flew from under him and a nauseating Ďcrackí sounded from his leg before his face hit the wooden floor. The shadow hammer dissipated and Rykosar began the slow pained process of trying to get to his feet.

At this point, the old gladiator retained enough of his senses to hear footsteps stomping towards him, he flinched with a cringe but immediately held back the remainder of his reaction when feeling a scruffy beard grazing the top of his head, and two arms looped under his to help him up. It wasnít very effective, but he was trying.

ďHiz oolriet. Mahraht haz hew.Ē He assured him, before metal hitting the floor sounded and a hot blinding white filled the room. Rykosar immediately recognized the sensation as one similar to a flashbang.

Rykosar felt his body hit the floor again, likely in Maratís blinded confusion. The old gladiator managed to get to his feet despite the dark spots filling his eyes once the light had passed. There was a familiar high ringing in his ears that started to fade, but he was unable to regain his hearing until it was too late.

A cold pressure began to curl around his body and from through the dark spots of his vision, all he could see was more darkness. Shadows had invaded him, consuming his form and holding him in place. The pressure increased as he blinked several times and spotted Sirius with an arm extended, palm open.

From this point, the spectators of the battle were much more willing to evacuate the building, though in their confused blinded and deaf states in addition to Maratís panic, the bushy bearded man had very little control over the situation.

Meanwhile, Rykosar let out a few struggled gasps, clawing for air in his exhaustion from the fight in addition to the near suffocating grip the shadow tendrils had on him. When noticing Sirius fingers twitching in anticipation of something. The old man paled in alarm, sucking in what air he could before he gritted his metal and yellowed teeth. He pushed off with his metal leg, attempting to break through the shadows in an outright charge towards the younger gladiator.

It took several large swoops from his weight, but he managed to break the grip and Siriusí concentration on the shadow hold before whatever Sirius had anticipated became a reality. Though Rykosarís exertion in freeing himself began to pay its toll, as he could hardly move now.

Sirius on the other hand was still standing, and seething with anger at the old manís defiance. He brought up his blade from before, limping as the sharp aches in his leg moved up his back with the weight he moved onto that side. Never the less, his arms swung quickly towards Rykosar. From pure luck, the old man had successfully grabbed the blade with his metal hand, scratching the palm side, but not much else. The gears of his fingers snapped as he allowed the artificial grip to replace his own effort, slowly prying the control of the weapon from Sirius to the old man.

He abruptly twisted the blade and Sirius lost his grip on the handle, allowing Rykosar to have possession of it. He turned the weapon around in his hand before he swiped wildly at Sirius, cutting through his hoodie and shirt, drawing blood from the line now traced across his chest. Letting out a shout from the strike Sirius took several steps back, tripping over a toppled chair and grunting as his back hit the ground.

Rykosar coughed several times after being allowed a moment to stop, putting a hand to his mouth and bringing the palm to his eyes seeing he drew blood. His next priority above his condition was the area. Old eyes sifted through the details of the room, seeing Marat attempting to escort the last of the residents from the area, some of them still terrified from the presumed flashbang that had gone off earlier.

Marat tilted his head up towards Rykosar, eyes brightened in concern then tilted a few degrees to his right and widened in fear. Rykosar mimicked the expression as he brought his head back to the area behind the chair Sirius had tripped over.

What he saw first was like a faint cloud of shadows surrounding Sirius as the young gladiator stood. Though these were more faint and clung tightly to his body like an aura. The next thing he noticed was that graphite began to slowly replace Siriusí flesh, like he was growing a new layer of skin. The material peaked from under his clothing, jutting out as his hands and face were soon covered in the rock.

As Sirius stood and he reaches of this darkness surrounding him grew, Rykosarís paled skin managed to become paler as he spotted the potted plants in the general lounge area beginning to wilt and brown. Marat must have seen this as well, because he became much more insistent with the more reluctant members of the retirement home to leave, accidentally spouting a few things in Russian in his panic.

Rykosarís eyes were too set on watching Sirius to notice Marat, however. A wise choice since the ĎLord of the Nightí began to charge at Rykosar, as if in complete disregard to his fractured or broken leg. With Siriusí blade still in hand, Rykosar drew his arm back and anticipated his move, the young manís speed this late in a fight was remarkable. When Sirius was close enough to attack with a fist to Rykosarís nose, the old man bent his metal leg to duck from under it, bringing the blade up at Siriusí right arm. Blood poured from the wound, as Rykosar made sure to cut deeply. However, Sirius uttered nothing but a chuckle in response.

As the blood touched the blade in Rykosarís possession, it began to hum softly, physically growing in size as if feeding off of it. The old manís face contorted into a cringe at this realization, but snapped his attention back to a coarsening pain through his whole body.

He brought his thoughts back to the dying plants from the lounge and quickly leaped back from Sirius to be out of the auraís reach. Though stepping out from the dark, Rykosar noticed that the lower half of his cut to Siriusí arm had stopped bleeding in that time. A sort of life siphoning occurred when he was too close to him now. However anything other than close combat was not available.

Rykosar took the first limping step in his charge, with Sirius following to meet halfway. The young gladiator shot his arm out for the longer blade, but Rykosar swiftly brought the blade behind him so Sirius was only able to grab his elbow. It was easy to wrestle from the grip as Rykosar unbent his arm and bent his legs before shoving the blade up into Siriusí stomach, careful to avoid vital organs. As blood trickled into the blade and down Rykosarís sleeve, it continued to grow in size within Sirius. However, Rykosar quickly pulled the weapon out and shoved Sirius back with his weight, the blade humming pleasantly at the gore coating the edge.

After Sirius stumbled back, Rykosar took up his stance and charged, a powerful swing slammed into Sirius and he went toppling over the office counter near the exit to the retirement home. The counter wasnít very high, so Rykosarís weight pulled him down as well. Various other revolting cracks could be heard as his whole weight fell on the poor young gladiator. Though, Sirius seemed to pay very little mind to the noises and began fighting to push Rykosar off of him with what little function he had of his limbs.

In this moment of opportunity, Rykosar drew up the blade with his left arm, the handle aimed at Siriusí head of jet black hair. The old man growled as he slammed the butt of the handle against his head and proceeded to repeat this several times. He could barely feel the crushed limbs of the young man squirming under his mass, trying to fight and free himself.

As the handle finally seemed to break through the graphite layer of skin in Siriusí head, all of the motion underneath Rykosar stilled and the young gladiatorís eyes lidded before shutting completely, his head slacking to one side. Unconscious, not yet dead.

Rykosar lost his grip on the blade, the metal Ďtackíing on the wood floor before he pushed with both of arms to reel off of Sirius. Rolling onto his back, the old man turned his head to the side as a buildup of a copper taste coated his tongue. He spat out a glob of saliva and blood, feeling it dribble from his lips and to the ground in the midst of his sharp gasping. There was a mind numbing warmth that coated his body now that the fight was over, soon growing heavy on his body and eyes. A need to sleep came over him as he overheard Marat asking for a phone from one of the retired elders, the ache in his lungs from harsh breathing leaving a cold sour pang in his lungs as he started to relax and shut his eyes.

Boomerang
07-21-2014, 09:48 AM
I'd like to say good fight to Kyra, and a great job of portraying Sirius as the psychopath he is. I certainly enjoyed reading it, and may the better person win.

Crank
07-21-2014, 08:26 PM
Great job to both of you, but I had to go with Kyra with this one! I think the two of you portrayed the setting quite well, but I ultimately found her characters to be a bit fuller.

Boomerang:
I found Nightshade's perspective to be very well defined, but he seemed to be the only who's mind I could really get into. Like, a lot of the other people were like deflated balloons who just needed to be filled up with a little bit of emotion. Rykosar especially, considering his large role in the story.

And for a moment, the two just stood opposite of each other, staring into one another’s menacing irises. Everybody wondered; Who would come out of this battle conscious, or even alive? Sirius showed disdain in his expression. He wanted to be the man standing tall. The size did not matter here, for Sirius had the speed. That was what he had used this whole time to stay on top of the battle at hand.

Screen time just wasn't balanced enough for me, I would've liked to see some up close shots of Rykosar too.

And for a moment, the two just stood opposite of each other, staring into one another’s menacing irises. Everybody wondered; Who would come out of this battle conscious, or even alive? Sirius showed disdain in his expression while Rykosar held a quiet determination. His furrowed brow was impossible to detect through the mass of wrinkles on his forehead, but a knowing smile found itself on his lips before long. Sirius' frown deepened in reply, he wanted to be the man standing tall. The old man's size did not matter here, for Sirius had the speed. That was what he had used this whole time to stay on top of the battle at hand.

I'm not saying Rykosar has to have exactly as much face time as Sirius, but I deffidenly think main characters should all share the spotlight to a degree.

Still a very good story however!

Kyra:
The only thing I can really say is that I would've liked to see more of the audience gathered, I think they would've played a very interesting element to the story and I know you can be hilarious when you really want to be! Very solid story, and I found everyone you used to be very human!

Again though, very valiant fight from the two of you, and I wish you both the best of luck!

ErrorBlender
07-26-2014, 11:32 AM
Awesome fight from both of you and I have to admit I didn't expect the ending of Boomerang's.

BoomerangReturns CnC:

One thing to say is that I love the addition of the audience around the fight, I have to agree and disagree with Crank. I don't know how that works though. I think the audience's dialogue was fine that way since they were just thrown out there as the fight was continuing but I agree that a bit more of Rykosar is needed.

The way you ended yours had a bit of lasting effect as I only see few people that intentionally make their gladiators lose the battle. Very interesting and nice. :)


Kyra CnC:

I like how the battle went along, a goodd back-and-forth between the two combatants. How real the pain can get for Rykosar and then for Sirius later on. I have trouble finding any errors in your work so I'll leave that to the other CnCers. The background was nice with Marat helping along. Awesome work :D