Okay, I screwed up posting this a few times, but this one should be good. This is both mine and Oster's first wRHG battle, and I think that it went fairly well for both parties. I cut it a bit close with my studies, but in the end I did get it done, and I'm proud of my work. Best of luck to both myself and to Oster.

ough Elias' busted-up studio apartment awoke the newly accepted RHG fighter from his slumber. He had nearly forgotten that he had a fight today, and against an opponent that he hadn't even taken the time to read about. That morning was spent doing just that, the pale "warrior" (if one could even call him that) sitting at a small, off white table, sipping at a mug of coffee (extra creamer to keep those calcium levels up) while flipping through the files that he had been given by his fight organizer. “Let's see here..." He started, setting the cup down and spreading the few papers Erik Eolas, his first real fight, had written about him. "I'm a bit confused on the whole "puppeteering" thing. So he's just a ventriloquist? Except... the puppets are big golem things. I'll probably understand it better once he's trying to hack me limb from limb." He decided, finishing his coffee with one last gulp, the dark, bitter liquid rolling over his tongue and down his throat, the scrawny fighter moving towards his sink, washing out the mug with a damp rag and a bit of dish soap.

He looked at the clock hanging just above the doorway to his bedroom (if one could call it that). He was running late. A fire now lit under his ass, the RHG raced to grab his keys and shoes, throwing on the latter before running out the door, racing down the steps and throwing himself out the front door. The former jammed themselves into his car's passenger side lock and twisted, the door unlocking with a soft "click", and he jumped in and over the center console, landing in the driver's seat. He started the car and backed out of his lot's spot, peeling out onto the streets as he sped to the facility once more.

His tires screeched as he practically drifted into the facility's parking lot, just barely missing a really nice looking sports car with his dingy, 90,000 mile Sprinter. Not that the Sprinter is a bad car at all. In fact, he loved the beat-up thing. He's easily spent over two grand trying to make the left hand drive look right inside it. That's not really the point of this story, though, is it? He slides into his spot, shutting the car off and exiting with a bit of haste in his motions. He ran over to the entrance, and sure enough, the old man was there again. You know, the one from the demo.

The old bastard looked up at Elias and wheezed out a shrill, dry laugh once again. "Ye came back? I thought I told ye the golfin' range was thataway!" He coughed, a bit of mucus hitting the ground with a dull "splat", sending shivers up Elias' spine. "I mean, I'm here for a fight. I'm running kinda late, too, so I guess I can argue with you when I get out of here." With that, Elias entered the building, leaving the geezer in a state of confusion. "That lil' wimp? Fighting?" He asked himself. "Nah." He decided soon after. "He's playin' a joke on me."

Elias speedwalked through the corridors, taking deep breaths. The first stain on his record. Would it be good, or would it be bad? He certainly hoped it'd be good as he paced to the door for his first real battle against a foreign opponent. The door on his side slid open and his opponent was already waiting for him. "Hey! Sorry I'm late, got a bit hung up this morning reading the paper." He called out from across the room. This, of course, was only a half truth, though it wasn't very obvious that it was such a thing. "Anyway, I'm Elias. Last name Gantenbein. Apparently it means, like, wild goose leg or something." He continued, waiting until he reached the center to stop running his mouth and listen for a response. "Erik. Last name Eolas. Let's get this done quick and easy. I don't really want to hold either of us up longer than I have to." Elias nodded. "Let's have a good fight, then.

Elias' finger pointed at Erik's foot, and the tip of his finger shot out a small bone. A warning shot, more than anything, and Erik stepped back. One of the Puppets Elias had read about, one named Scarlet, appeared almost out of nowhere, the bone bullet ricocheting off of one of her swords. Now it was Elias' turn to jump back. Okay, he wasn't expecting that. He kept his finger trained on the Erik, but he looked at the Puppet with a clear look of shock on his face. "Two on one. Okay, it's an uphill battle but think I should be able to come out on top. I just have to..." He jumps back once more, a bit further this time, his back hitting the concrete wall behind him.

He had to focus for a second. Facing someone so clearly adept in swordplay within melee range was a godawful idea. Instead, he opts to stay at this range, firing off fingertips at a rapid pace, the air around him hot with energy as his fingertips continue to pepper the duo in a rain of bullets. The bullets, however, are deflected by Scarlet's swords, some sent towards the other walls, other sent back to him. A few grazed him, opening small wounds just about everywhere: his arms, legs, and even his face had a few minor wounds scattered about. One even came careening towards his eye, so he knew that this was clearly NOT working out for him.

A quick dodge was enough to stop him from losing an eye, but he was clearly losing this fight. He keeps using ranged abilities, moving to keep the pair on their toes, yet they were still keeping up with his attacks. A bit of worry was apparent on his face, yet he tried to keep his cool. Elias continues to run around the perimeter, attempting to find an opening in the other fighter's defenses. A few shots scattered around the two didn't really help: the Puppet was very clearly keen on protecting her... user? Puppeteer? Whatever their dynamic was. Either way, what Elias was doing now was not working, and he needed to think of a better strategy, and fast.

He changed forms, feeling the weight within him shift from his fingers to his back. Eugh, that always felt weird. His spinal cord was the next thing to leave his body, the discs and cord coming together to form a large lacerated whip. Said whip was thrashed about a few times, more to get a feel for its weightiness than anything, and he flicked it over towards the group, hitting Erik in his right foot. He wasn't sure why he was aiming for the feet. Perhaps it was him trying to incapacitate him?

It was stupid either way, but stupidity wasn't always a bad thing. The whip cracked once more, hitting Scarlet in the hand, knocking her sword from her tight grip. Another was drawn, and was subsequently knocked back. This continued until she had but one sword left, both hands tightly white-knuckling its hilt. Doing this, however, was no easy feat. She was a master with those blades, and knocking even one from her grasp took a bit of timing and guesswork. How he was going to pull this off, not even he knew. Blind luck, most likely.

His spine was discarded in favor of one of his femurs, the bone shaping itself into a scimitar of sorts. It was crude and imperfect, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn't sharp. He lunged forward blindly, slicing for Scarlet, and got the hilt of her blade to his chest for his efforts. Next was a slice to his stomach, which with such accuracy and precision was near deadly. However, blind luck was once again on his side, and lucky positioning and amateur knowledge of swordplay just barely saved his skin.

He yelped, desperately kicking at her leg in an attempt to sweep her, but it wasn't happening. So, he rolled away, once again barely missing the tip of a blade to his face. Instead, his foot went for Erik, and in one swift motion, kicked out his left leg, forcing him to the ground and into Elias' grasp. "Hey, uh, whatever your name is. I'm not trying to die, and I know that you most likely don't want this guy dead, either. So, how about we just... chalk this up as a win for me and we can go our own seperate ways, yeah?" Truth be told, he really didn't want to kill this guy. He would if he had to, but he just... really didn't want to. Moral compass, good faith, blah blah.

Another blade came straight for him and he refused to dodge, the enchanted steel hitting him right in the side. Of course, he had planned for this, and the blade had also gone through Erik. "Friendly fire, huh? Never pinned you down as that type." Scarlet quickly withdrew her blade, and Elias took this time to make his move. Elias' blade swung high, hacking deep into one of Scarlet's arms. The grip on her blade's hilt weakened, and Elias kicked his foot up, kicking the blade from her grasp. This took one kick, but it was also a hit to the wrists, which REALLY hurts, even if you have super strength and mana powers.

He throws his femur at Scarlet, pulling out yet another one, shaping it into a spear, then jumping to his feet, Erik in tote. One hand around Erik's neck, the other on the spear, poking Erik in the back. "We're just gonna... head out that door... and talk this out like gentlemen." He said, a mix of nerves and irrational anger flowing over him. He signed up for this, why is he complaining? Not even he knows. A strong feeling of pain pangs through his body and of course there's a knife in him. He hacks up a bit of blood, thick and mucousy, before stabbing Erik through the back. The look of shock on his face rivaled the look of shock on the others' as well. He... he took someone's life. That wasn't what he was about. Did RHG fighters die for good when this happened? He didn't know.

An hour or so later, Elias was finally let out of the building. The sun was setting. The old man from way earlier (remember him?) looked him up and down, making note of the healing wounds. He laughs his usual wheezy laugh before standing and patting him on the back.

"Well, look's like ye weren't lyin to me!” He starts, giving the bone shaper a hard punch on the shoulder. “Judgin' by the look of it, ye had yerself a pretty good first fight! Can’t wait to hear his side of it, though. I’m sure he blew ye outta the water.” He adds, stepping back and sitting back down.

“Let's just hope this piece a' trash makes it through peer review."

END ...

Suddenly, Elias felt sick. Everything around him felt slower. Distorted, even.

Then, Gris’ Vertigo was dropped in favor of a savage slice to his center of mass, leaving a nasty gash on his chest. Liquid crimson stained his shirt and dripped to the floor and Elias suddenly began to question everything. Was that fight even real? He couldn’t be sure, but he knew for sure that this one was. They were still in the facility, still fighting. When had Erik swapped Puppets? He didn’t really know about Scarlet, so he had to have at least encountered her beforehand. The shift most likely happened while Erik was on the ground. From there, everything must have been but a hallucination. That level of sensory deprivation and manipulation was unreal. It scared Elias a bit.

Nevertheless, Elias had a new problem to deal with. He removed his ribcage, solidifying it into two seperate pieces with insertions at the bottom and a rigid spike at each tip. A fashionable pair of gauntlets, if he did say so himself. Elias and Gris exchanged blows, trading hit for hit, slice for slice, but it was apparent that Elias was losing this fight. Naturally, he went on the defensive, not finding much more payoff there. He was merely prolonging the inevitable. Erik seemed concentrated on something, but he couldn’t be too sure what. Perhaps he was strengthening his telepathic bond with the warrior he was facing by not engaging Elias by himself or in tandem. That was interesting. It also presented an opening to Elias. The boneshaper suddenly thrust both hands forward, impaling the spiked gauntlets into Gris’ stomach. Of course, he didn’t feel any pain, but the shock of it all would have to be enough. Elias quickly withdrew one of his fingers, turning the mixture of bones and cartilage into a knife. Then, he ran.

Elias ran towards his target, the Puppeteer himself, but Gris wasn’t far behind, Elias’ own gauntlets whizzing past his head before clattering to the ground. Once he was close enough, Elias lunged, swiping at Erik with the knife. Erik jumped back, barely being grazed by the small weapon, pulling out his own knife. The two began trading blows, as Elias had done with Gris moments before, the two swiping at each other, some swipes hitting, others missing. Elias sped up, his slashes getting more erratic until finally one hit home. Of course, Erik’s had also hit a nasty spot: the same it had hit him previously while he was in Vertigo. Elias, however, had gotten him in the chest, and had most likely gone through his sternum before accidentally breaking the bone off inside of him. Bone hitting bone never really works. The two coughed up their fair share of blood, but Erik was the first to pull back, letting go of his knife and stepping back before falling to the floor. Elias scrambled to find his phone in his pocket, calling up the Sierra Pines General Hospital. It seemed like the right thing to do, after, since they were both kinda dying.

A few hours later and the two were in recovery. Granted, Elias had been put in pretty bad condition, as had Erik, so they ended up sharing the same room, divided only by a curtain. What luck. Elias pushed a button on his hospital bed and accidentally moved the angle at which his upper body was resting, causing a bit of pain. Then, he hit the right button, opening the curtain very gradually. Once it was finally open, Elias simply smiled over at his opponent.

“You had me fooled there for a minute. Give your puppets my thanks. You, too. That was such an amazing fight, no disrespect to Midas. You totally blew him out of the water.” He said with a bit of a laugh. Erik laughed as well. “Yeah, you’ve got some crazy skill yourself. The whole “pulling out bones” thing is a bit weirder once you see it happen in person. Either way, that was a great fight. I hope we have a chance to fight again sometime.”

Elias hoped the same thing.

END (for real this time)
[/spoiler]

ile staring at the unfamiliar white ceiling.

Looking around the room was rather bare. A rather large, finely crafted wooden table with matching red cushioned chair located to his left. Over to his right was a slightly ajar sliding closet door, painted the same blue as the rest of the wall it perfectly blended in, right now though it looked as if someone cut a perfectly rectangular hole in the wall and left it. A quick peek at the window beside the closet revealed a slowly rising dawn sun, meaning it was a little past six in the morning.

“Oh yeah…moved in yesterday,” Erik’s voice and state still groggy. He groaned as he sat up taking stock of the queen sized bed he was in. After rubbing the remainder of the sandman’s influence from his eyes, the door opened.

“Oh, good morning Sir, you’re already awake,” Madeline’s gray head poked in simultaneously with the greeting.

“Yes I am,” came the reply while Erik inspected himself, huh looks like he slept in yesterday’s clothes. He shrugged, not the first time he did that though he did smell the need for a quick shower.

“Well, we’re almost done getting breakfast ready.”

“Great, I’ll be heading to the shower first, I should be done before you finish.”

“Roger,” she replied before disappearing behind the door only for it to open a crack again, “Oh and we got a letter this morning, it’s for you Sir.”

“I’ll deal with it after breakfast,” Erik replied rummaging through his “creatively organized” stack of clothes. With a final affirmation the door shut, shortly after Erik with a bunch of fresh clothes in one arm opened the door on the same side of the room as his desk hoping it was the bath, thankfully he was right.

“Great food as always Claire,” Erik said finishing up his plate of grilled pork a

Bit delayed, but looks like a really nice debut you guys had!