Everyone's favorite post LOL

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To reiterate the rules:
* Keep things realistic: no God-moding or "Goldbergs", and don't go overboard with abilities and weapons
* Practice good sportsmanship and keep things civil
* Be creative: I can't stress this point enough; I don't want this tournament symmetrically separated amongst a handful of two-man teams, mix it up a little
* Fight to win, play for keeps; the choice is yours
* There is no limit on posts you must or can make; fight for as long as you desire or are able
* Declare the cumulative post count of the tournament at the end of each post: ex) if I post first, I add "[Post 1]" at the end; whoever posts next would add "[Post 2]"; etc.

As for the judging:
*Judges will periodically evaluate the current performance of each player and drum up individual scores for each participant, which will at the end will be averaged together to declare a victor. Though a weekly intermission (or some other interval of time) from fighting would be optimal, it will most likely have to be judged upon the number of posts made between breaks; all breaks in combat will be preceeded by a brief post by myself, which will be deleted once I recieve judgings.
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Our arena:
Like a colisseum of Roman times, rows of marble seats stand stories tall; the edifice of the building itself is rather decrepent (yet another parallel), but at the same time the stone looks very new, and the wear and erosion purely artificial. The stands are empty save for the center, wherein three figures obscured by the shadow of a setting sun. These three do not show any distinction in where they sit and recline in the seats reserved for the commonfolk. The battleground itself is dusty and turbulent soil, dried beyond all fertility. upon this sterile earth are concrete slabs forming a "ring" of sorts; the slates themselves are squares, which connect to form a rectangle slightly elevated above the ground and not fastened down in any sense. Wooden pikes adorned with a foreign language stand between several of these slates.

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Their uproaring laughter echoes through the stagnant aisles; to add to their broodish manners, they were shouting provocatives and throwing foreign objects at the contestants they themselves gathered here, all the while taking pride in their bravado. Were they truly greater than any man?

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"Pass me that 3-7/8" fastener, would you?"

Joseph flipped the wrench several times, tossing it into the air several times. He then dragged his finger across the raised embroidering, which read 'MI TECH'.

" ... Today!"

"Sure thing, Martin," he lipped slyly. Even though it was quite chichéd at this point in Vaun's career, his son could not resist affirming the joke. Tossing the fastener with acute abandon, it overshot its target and clattered noisly against the Bladerunner's hull, then fell to the floor (over a dozen feet below).

"Good job, son. Go fucking get that," Joseph's father said with a sneer. Joseph could always tell when his father was agitated, though he tried hard to hide his emotion behind a stony visage; his language, however, was the one tell he couldn't control--and which Joseph thrived upon.

"Eh, I was getting bored of this maintenance crap, anyhow. Be back in a sec. Or whatever."
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Joseph stood apathetically, banging on the head of one of the several posts littering the arena. It vibrated slightly each time, shaking some of the dust collected at it's base. In his inattentive state, he only noticed after several instances that small pebbles and coarse materials were being pitched at him; while most rolled off the back of his jacket, one final stone hit him in the back of the head. Raucous laughter from the shadows accompanied the action.

"Hey! Fuck off!" Joseph shouted blindly into the stands while gesturing rudely with his fingers and arms alike. He finally came to wonder of his current whereabouts and turn of events, not being one for hard speculation. "The hell am I, anyway?"

Though the sun was setting deep into the orange sky, it was still quite humid in the area, and the warmth was getting to the adolescent. He removed his jacket and tossed it haphazardly to his side; no matter where he ended up leaving it, he could never seem to lose his suede jacket, one he's had since he was fourteen. (he never did grow much during this period.) The straps fastening his blade's sheath then appeared on his shoulders, off of which they slid so that the sabre, sheath, and all fell behind him. He was becoming quite impatient, and he didn't even know what he was waiting for.

And still, that Goddamn laughter ...

[Post 1]

::A sweet tune floated through the still air in the dark of night. A woman's melodic voice sang it as she passed through the sleeping streets in some Scottish town. While she passed, the effect was that of the Pied Piper. Children emerged from their homes in nightgowns, asleep yet awake, each one skipping and clapping to the tune. There were no words. Not ones that could be understood, at the least. The flowing black gown and cloak flitted in front of them in the night, and the sweet, distant melody bade them follow. Over small country lanes and fields they followed until they came to a meadow in which every kind of flower grew, and none with thorns or bees to sting. In the centre of every flower was nectar to drink and candies to eat. Here the children ran about to play and eat sweets to their heart's content. Not a child was left out. The singer of the melody continued to warble with her nightingale's voice. But she remained hidden, seated in a tall tree. There she watched them play and laugh, wanting something she could never again have. Wanting something she might have gained, but now never would. She longed to embrace each one in turn and love them, for one moment, as her own. But it could never be.::

::After a few moments' more of frolic and delight, she ceased her song and let them go. All the children fell down softly in the middle of their play and fell back into natural sleep. Now they would all dream sweet dreams of a meadow full of flowers and candy. She waved her hands and sent them all home. The meadow vanished along with the beautiful flowers and became merely a plain patch of grass. Seyla wept as they vanished, never to be part of her, never to know her pain, but grow and die knowing love and joy more than they could possibly need. The cold-blood tears ran down her cheeks in torrents and she wiped them away with a red handkerchief.::

::Seyla descended from her tree to begin her ceaseless journey once more. In each town she visited, she would do the same. Admire their children then vanish, none the wiser. Occasionally she would stop to feed from many adults, but she would never make another. And she would never kill anyone when she could feed from many and barely harm a single one. It was her way until she perished. But only fire or murder could do that.::

::Seyla passed through a garden, and there grew the lovliest blood-red rose she had ever beheld. It taunted her, tempted her, and daunted her to pluck it from the bush. At once she seized the flower, thorns tearing her tender fingers, and broke it free from its confinement. No sooner had she plucked it then she vanished from that world and found herself in quite another, occupied by only one other man in a large area. She clutched the rose to her bosom.::

Where the devil am I? ::She brushed a thick curl from her eyes and the mass of her deep brown hair was swept behind her shoulders. She withdrew her cloak, finding the sun to be quite hot on all the black. It pained her eyes some, but otherwise caused her no harm. She had picked a gown to wear of black, in order to melt into shadows. Now, there was no shadow left and Seyla was left in a black velvet confection with full sleeves and gloves. She peeled these from her hands and cast a furtive look around her. Spying the only living human not seated in the stands and throwing things, she called out.::

You there! What is this place?

You there! What is this place?

It took Joseph several seconds and a few glances around the nearly empty arena to realize this new figure was referring to him; unless, for whetever reason, she had instead called out to that abrasive collection of men--who at this time still continued to point and jeer in foreign tongue. Regardless, he formulated his reply after getting a good look at her ...

"What is this? Heh, damned if I know." He bent down and grabbed his sheath and sword he so callously dropped earlier, yet kept it in its sleeve and only placed a hand on its hilt. "But if you're looking for the Renaissance Faire, I think you're way off."

Sure, her dress was very elaborate and decorative (Who the hell wears velvet, anyway?) which gave her an incredibly dated appearance, but there wasn't much denying how attractive this figure was. She appeared very young, no more than one or two years within his own age, and her figure was--wow. And that hair, those curls and waves, such a lovely brown. Those nice, full lips, soft suppl--

He jerked the creeping infatuation from his person with a shake of his head; needless to say, he was quite distracted at the moment. He regardless removed his hand from his sabre's hilt, still carrying it by the sleeve, and extended a gentleman-like hand to the maiden. "Anyway, th' name's Joseph. Uh, Buren."

[Post 3]

Charmed, I'm sure. And to refresh your history I dress long after the Renaissance, my dear. ::Seyla took his hand in a sort of shake. She looked about her, hating the harsh wasteland all around her. She despised the blinding of the sun and the ruthless spectators who jeered and threw rubbish. It seemed none of them could bear the sight of garbage pelted at so fair a lady, so no refuse came her way.::

My name is Seyla DieArte. Does the sight of me warm your blood, young man? I could sense it stirring within you. You should be wary; in this heat I will be thirsty ere long. Though I might do you a favour by taking a few of these bothersome spectators. ::She turned and opened the front of her dress, exposing her corsetted cleavage. In a few moments she had shed her black gown to reveal a stunning lace corset (old fashioned whalebone) and an elaborate array of petticoats and a hoopskirt. Under the corset Seyla wore no shirt or shift and she was thus supported, leaving her shoulders and neck bare. Though covered still she felt much cooler having lost all the black. She left her hoopskirt and stockings for whatever small amount of decency she could keep.::

::Seyla took up the dress and folded it. Then she rummaged about in the pocket of her cloak and found a walnut shell. Into this she put her entire gown! The sight would no doubt amaze the man who had called himself Joseph, but Seyla used this small piece of magic to keep her treasures secure. She also folded into the shell her cloak. Then she stored the nutshell in the pocket of her petticoat. Quite better prepared for the sun she turned back to the man.::

Pardon my indecency, but I am likely to burn if not dressed properly. Where I was just, it was nighttime. Therefore I had not need to worry.

((Seyla dresses in the English Edwardian style. Very proper.
Post 4.))

The stadium was vast. With haste, Hunrei observed surroundings with strong intent. Many minerals; several types of stone had easily been spotted. The air was moist, which made it an easier task to extract the water vapors. Even so, this was an annoyance of a chore. As well as a complete waste of time. (1)
He was calm and collected. Aside from the fact he was short of the slightest clue of his whereabouts, he was quite content. His resources were limited, and if there was any threat to him in this new area, he would most likely have to make due with his weapon.
Moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, he pulled himself into the right state of mind. It was quite possible for his situation to be completely elsewhere from that of a violent genre, but this was a rare occurrence. (2) His fingers curled tightly around the wooden handle of his sword. He stared at the two others adjacent to him. One a woman, dressed in a somewhat eccentric manner. At least, compared to the garment fragments he had been used to. Another, a man, dressed in a more toned down category, but none the less, unusual to Hunrei's eyes.
"State your names." He ordered, his tone rash and nothing far from straight forward.

[Post 5]
--


1: I had tried extracting the vapors from the air several times before, and had never been gifted with anything less then a three or four hour job. Plus, a pint of water wouldn't last for more then a day and a half, I was a hearty drinker.

2: I'd become somewhat accustomed to the violent life. It wasn't as bad as many had thought it out to be. Half my battles were won with my mind power alone. Some would be surprised at how brainless most bandits are.

"So your leaving us?" The tall blonde man asked sadly.
"'Fraid so. I'm a thief. I can't stand staying in one place for too long. After all, there's still too much treasure that I haven't uncovered yet."
The blonde man smiled.
"Just be careful. Remember what happened the last time you tried to steal one of your precious treasures?"

"*cough* So the world almost ended. We fixed it didn't we?"
"I suppose we did... Though there's another matter I've been meaning to ask you about. Jaha told me that he saw you near the castle vault last night. You wouldn't know what he was talking about now would you?" The blonde man inquired.
Slade cracked a quick smile.
"Heh. And I thought I was a rat. Fine, fine. Here's the money. There's more to be had out there anyway."
He handed a small brown pouch back to the blonde man. The man happily accepted the King's rightful funds.
"You just take care of yourself allright?"
"Hey you know me. Always careful."

They both smiled. Slade extended his hand outward, to which the blonde man accepted and gripped tightly.
Before their handshake could complete, the rat thief known as Slade vanished, leaving the blonde man alone and bewildered.
*******************************
In the blink of an eye Slade soon found himself in a large arena with 3 others. They all looked strange to him, but in his travels he found it best not to question the appearances of others. Gaging his surroundings, Slade felt a strange familiar feeling about the place.
"Not another tournament! That last one was torture! I was put through hell and the damned thing never even ended!"
Slade let out a depressed sigh.
"Oh well. Maybe this'll be the place my luck turns around..."
No sooner had he spoke, one of the audience members hurled a bottle at the back of his head. The bottle shattered on impact.

"...Ow..."

[post 6]

Our hero Captain Heat had received an urgent message from an unknown character. Captain Heat always taking any call of distress into a serious matter as was his policy, he quickly Jumped into his mighty vehicle "the Hot Wheels" and he sped off into the heat of danger, will he be okay? who was it that called him? could this be a trap?

Captain Heat following the directions that he had aquired from the anonymous caller and when he had reached his destination he discovered a large colliseum before his eyes. He was in an unfamiliar land and excercised the utmost caution. Could it be the work of the Green giant?, Master Spike and the porcupine gang?, possibly the evil Dr. Frost, his arch nemisis who had escaped from prison a few days earlier?. There was only one way for Captain Heat to find out.

He valiently leap out of the Hot Wheels and rushed into the building, when he does not know what to expect

What will become of Captain Heat?, find out in the next post

Captain Heat: In the heat of battle

[post 7]

Blonde hair...green eyes...she still tortured him through his dreams. Every time he shut his eyes she grinned at him maniacally. For two years she had done this, from beyond the grave she still haunted nearly every moment, asleep or awake. Jesh opened his eyes to the room around him, still the same room it had been for almost three years. He rolled to his side, and from the night table lifted a feather, a large feather. It had been that of an angel, his father. Looking into each tiny bristle, he couldn't help but sense his own insignificance. "I'm just another fiber, attached to the spine of reality." Quickly shoving these thoughts aside, he placed the feather down and stood. It was cold in the old monument of a castle, he dressed in his normal clothes and left the room in which he had been sleeping. All of the others were asleep no doubt, save for maybe Jiro and Id. The night patrol wasn't even around. "Worthless guards. If an assassin entered I'd be dead meat..." Shortly later he found himself in the Northern garden of Shivas, gazing at a patch of grass that refused to grow. Even with his affinity for plants, his ability to manipulate them and make them sprout, he could do nothing for these blades. Id said that the grass would not grow due to what had happened there so long ago. The leader of a great army had been assassinated by a man sent by his own brother. It made Jesh think of his own brother, Seashi...if he sent a man to kill Jesh, would he succeed? Before he could think any further, he found himself back in his own room. Not an idea was in his head, instead he was driven by the urge to stare at the feather. This time he gazed at it for a short time, a warm glow came to it, he shut his eyes and felt everything fade away.

The wind hit his face, he opened his eyes and saw the others surrounding him. With unrivaled speed he fanned out the fingers on his right hand and prepared to summon his sword.

"What is going on here?"


((POST 8))

::Seyla crossed her arms in front of her chest as simply more and more men appeared in the arena. One asked for their names, one began to whine about where he was, one didn't say anything and the other asked the same question Seyla had. She wished she had a parasol to shade herself. One of the men mentioned a tournament and she turned towards him.::

Did you say tournament? We are all to fight, you think? ::She pulled from her pocket a second walnut shell. She opened it and produced an elegant belt with a sword upon it. Her sword was a rapier. She belted it about her waist and put her hand on it. Her eyes took in the sternness of the area around her. If there was to be a fight, it would be child's play to win. They could not kill her.. not before she defeated them seven times over. Her dark nature always came in so handy at times. Seyla turned away and surveyed the other men. Joseph, who had already introduced himself, then three others. Her eyes came to rest upon the third and she grew very shocked. Her bore a resemblence to the last person Seyla had loved.::

::She walked over to him, who was standing away from the others.::

Who are you? You come from Midard, don't you?

((Post 9))

((English Edwardian? Like I know what that means.))

Well, I'm hot-blooded, check it and see
I've got a fever of a hundred-and-three
Come, on baby, do you do more than dance?
I’m hot blooded, I’m hot blooded ....

That song would be stuck in his head all day, but it was all he could think of due to Seyla's reply. In a moment, he realized what she meant by that comment. The more exhausting details will be spared, as not many appreciate having their libido discussed in a public venue.

... She's definitely not from around here.

Joseph never even took much notice to the fact that she had somehow forced the entirety of her gown into a walnut shell. Another shell instead produced forth an extravagant belt, and attached to it a form of rapier. Rather mundane.

"Not another tournament! That last one was torture! I was put through hell and the damned thing never even ended!"

This speaker was rather different from the others, perhaps due to the fact that he was indeed a giant fucking rat! You don't see many personified animals outside of Asop's Fables, but evidently this new character was also a rather experienced fighter, having participated in several 'tournaments' in his time. The word tournament itself reminded Joseph of the Bladerunner's alabaster plating, a heat-resistant polymer that would nonetheless get warped from time to time. They were pains in the ass to replace, too; a career of fighting in giant Mechanica seems a lot more luxurious from the outside, and much easier on one's wallet. Now it seems he might be expected to go hand-to-hand with a rat-man and a woman who would burn if not dressed properly? Sure, she's pale, but come on! Might as well get some more information ....

"OK, so you're Seyla, right?" Joseph asked as he turned his attention back to her, only to find that she was now interrogating another newcomer. He was giving all her attention to some Long, Tan, and Handsome she thought she knew. " ... And you're ... not even listening to me, are you? Eh, whatever, you can can have pretty-boy. Who I really need to talked to is you," Joseph then swung around, pointing an incriminating finger at the animalesque thief, who at that moment was nailed right in the back of the head with a bottle. He tried his best to stifle his laughter; "I can definitely tell you're not from anywhere I know of ..."He took another look back at Seyla, and then to Handsome, who was incredibly (almost freakishly) thin. " ... As if that counts for much."

[Post 10]

As Slade rubbed the back of his head, he realized that one of the men nearby was talking to him.

"Me? Uh, I'm Slade. I'm from Granseal. Well sort of. I was just about to leave the place, and while I was saying my goodbyes, I just kind of... ended up here."

Slade tried to make sense of his own sentence for a moment but figured it was a waste of time. After all, he didn't even know where "here" was. And the back of his head really hurt too.

The number of people within the arena was growing be the minute, and they were all... unique to say the least. The one woman made a rapier appear out of a shell, one man looked like some sort of corny wanna be hero, the rest just looked either confused or curious.

Nobody really seemed to know what was going on. Slades very mention of the concept of a tournament seemed to hold more information about their situation than anyone else was aware of.

"So uh... does anybody know how we got here? I sort of had other plans..."
'Wait a sec! I'm a freakin thief! These people are bound to have something that can fetch a fair price! I might not need the money from the castle vault after all!'

[post 11]

Hunrei was ready to blow up from infuriation. The strangers placed around him were simply ignoring his presence on the battlefield! He stomped his foot lightly, and sweared to himself he'd kill them all if he was able.
With a miniscule amount of spent energy, he pulled the stones from beneath his feet and morphed them into a pedastool like object. Looking at the skulltops of each figure, he waved his hands to gain their attention.
With a clear of the throat, "I said, state your names."

::Seyla's stranger had not yet answered her and she was growing impatient with the need for an asnwer. But some indignant swine in the arena was now demanding all their attentions and asking for names. She whirled, drawing her rapier. She marched towards this speaker with furious purpose.::

And why ought I to give my name to a boorish man who does not offer his first? Silence, wretch, lest you should find yourself drained of your life! ::Seyla opened her mouth and hissed. Long fangs sprouted from her mouth and her eyes turned into terrible blazes within her soul. Now he had encouraged her hunger, and Seyla vowed to slake her thirst from him first. But she retracted her fangs, the display having been only that. Should she choose, she could have him on his knees displaying his neck with a wave of her hand. Instead she turned back to the one who she must have answers from.::

Please, tell me.. do you know Id? You must answer me!

In our last Post Heat man had received a call on the Hot Line warning him of an evil deed about to happen. Our hero found himself in front of a large building of unknown origin, is this a trap? and if so can Captain Heat handle the action? find out right now in

Captain Heat: In the heat of battle


Captain Heat had rshed into the odd structure and found that the mysterious caller was speaking the truth, saying there was people here. Captainheat as always was cautious, he does not recognize anyody that stood before him. Captain heat glanced to the left, he looked to the right and noticed that he was surrounded, his own foolishness had trapped him in the unknown people. A dirty trick perhaps, he must do something fast "Halt citizens, state your name and reason for being here, and no funny stuff". He ordered the crowd trying to scare them and dieter them from a possible conflict.

The rat person though looked suspisious the most of all, like a thief. If this person was a thief, then Captain Heat must arrest the fiend before he does anymore damage to the loyal innocent people.

"Halt thief" Captain Heat bellowed and charged head on into the rat using his heat powers.

Is the Captain correct in doing so? how will things turn out? are they good or are they bad?

stay tuned for the next exciting post of

Captain Heat: The flames of passion

[post 14]

Hunrei was now drowning in anger. The woman had angered him to his farthest extent. He threw his hand up into the air, and before completing an action, he hollered to her back.
"Wretched, monster!"
The stone under Seyla grew upward almost immediatly, and it continued to stretch in that direction. Hopefully it would teach the nuisance of a woman a lesson, when she tumbled through the air and onto the flat ground.

Hunrei was obviously getting very peeved. Since nobody else told him their names he seemed to be getting more impatient by the second.

"Hey, I already said my name was Slade, don't get mad at me."

Slade doubted that Hunrei was listening to him at all. He seemed very distracted with the only female in the group. Not distracted in the sense that most people would assume. In fact, he seemed ready to tear her to pieces. Slade was hoping to watch intently as Hunrei would no doubt pounce at the opportunity to attack the woman. Her attention was on one of the other men anyway. Unfortunately, something caught his ear that forced him to forget about the two for a moment.

"Halt thief!" The wanna be hero cried.

'I wonder if he means me' Slade thought sarcastically to himself.
"Halt? It's not like I was going any-... Oh CRAP!"

Without warning, Captain heat plowed head on into the unexpecting rodent with a sweltering heat surrounding him. Unprepared for the unprovoked assault, Slade was tackled to the ground. As the giant rat looked up at the strange attacker a fire began to burn in his eyes.

"What... the hell... was THAT FOR!"
Thrusting his paws upward, Slade summoned a burst burst of flames from within, and directed the attack straight at Captain Heat's mid-section.

[post 16]

Last time, our hero was left in a dire situation in which he had to act fast, or it could mean the death of him. We now return to our hero in action in the exciting conclusion of

Capatin heat: the flames of passion

After attacking the criminal at large Captain heat was used to being attacked soon after, for it is the one thing man craves....revenge. The large fire ball being conjoured up by the rat person had come into direct contact with his muscular abs, only to be neglected and denied any pleasure of dealing damage.

"Ha ha ha trying to burn a man of fire are you?" Captain heat remarked to his foe with his arms on his hips giving a super pose of justice "I think it's time I gave you a lesson in cooking" Captain heat reached out his hand and conjoured up his own version of the rat's spell.

"Great balls of fire" Captain heat chanted loudly and launched a whole assault of flames that shot in every direction, some were directed at the rat villan while other arcs of flames were misguided and flew at the other standbyers in the stadium. "Uh oh, it looks like I over did it" Captain heat stated.

Has our hero goofed? will captain heat be caught under fire? what is he to do if the others are against him?

all this and more in

Captain Heat: caught in the cross fire

It seemed that the rag-tag collective of competitors now included a super hero, a subject Joseph fortunately had ample experience with. They had been around on earth for decades; indeed, "Superman" had celebrated his 210th anniversary the year before(*). But once again, it was alleged and widely accepted that these breed of men were the subject of ficticious periodicals. Seeing one in real life showed Joseph how ... how ... corny they could be; Joseph didn't even want to touch upon the logistics of wearing tight, revealing, red-and-orange spandex and dubbing your abilities with names such as "Great Balls of Fire". So much orange, it was criminal.

This supposed hero had, since Joseph inquired about Slade, lept into action by slandering the rodent-man as a thief and arbitrarily launched a fiery assault on him. Joseph hadn't even given his name. How rude of some people, though the fulll extent of this Captain Heat's brashness was shown when he hurdled orbs of heat in every direction, which swerved, curved, and shot in every which-way. It was fortunate that Joseph still had a hand on his sword's sleeve, because one fireball was headed straight for him; with little time to react, joseph quickly attempted to unsheath his sabre, the look of frustration and panic intensifying on his face. Finally, the blade unstuck itself, and he was able to hold up a flat side of the blade to deflect the blow. His sabre was meant to withstand incredible temperatures, so imperfectly-burning fire wasn't much of a concern; the concussive force with which the ball of energy landed was, however. Joseph was knocked backwards--head over heels--as his scabbard was sent sliding into the distance.

Now, he was pissed. "What kind of fucking hero are you, almost getting me killed like that?!" Joseph shouted feverishly as he rubbed the newly-aquired sore on the back of his head. "Before you continue your trend of super-dickery, why don't you clue me in as to what the hell you think you're doing, now!"

(*) As Joseph come from a fairly distant future of approximately 2149, Superman's 210th anniversary is indeed in 2148. And as if it's a mystery at this point, Joseph Buren comes from earth.

[Post 18]

Slade watched in awe as balls of flame shot themselves in every direction. Some of them would have made direct contact with him, but much like Captain Heat Slade too had control over flame. He stretched his arm forward and the balls of fire flew harmlessly by. Unfortunately for several people in the stands, they did not hold this same power that the rat and the captain held. Many of them scurried about in a frenzy, trying to avoid the uncontrolled assault. Some were lucky... Others were not. Slade watched as they all panicked, trying to extinguish the dangers that the wanna be hero created.

'Well that must suck' Slade thought to himself. But he soon redirected his attention to Captain Heat and smiled.
"So attacking eachother with fire is pretty much useless... This could take a while. And whats the deal with you assuming I'm a thief? Is it because I'm a rodent? Huh? Is that it? Thats special discrimination there buddy and I happen to be very sensitive about it!"

Slade turned his back to Captain Heat and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"I think somebody owes me an apology."

Jesh had little time to answer "Seyla"s startling questions of Id. Jesh needed to learn how she knew Id though. Now she was being attacked. Without a second though he summoned his blade, the last epitaph, and so many memories came back to him. He remembered how he had traded part of himself for the sword, how he had allowed himself to be cursed to weild the weapon. He remembered the first time he used it, how strangely light but incredibly powerful and hard it was. Many had been cut down by its blade, all of which had deserved it, indeed, this was a blade of the righteous, a weapon of justice, the trenchant steel of wondrous holiness. He, an angel hybrid carried this sword and used it only for the right cause.

He dashed toward the stone pillar that was stretching to the sky, with his ethereal blade he struck through it, crushing the dense material and tearing it into two slabs diagonally.

"It's not nice to assault a woman who was only standing up for herself." Jesh stared at Hunrei, standing wisdeways, with his blade parallel to his far leg.

"Witty, are you?" Hunrei said, his hands hung upon his hips.
"It'll get you killed, hopefully."
With a wave of his hands, the slices in the stone melted together, and the entire structure descended into its original flat surface. The stone was a useful element to control. Hard, somewhat easy to meld, and a meaningful tool for defense aside from offense. Sadly, after watching is opponent chop through it as if it was air, he couldn't help but feel his stomach drop in anxiety. At that rate, Hunrei would be thrown into a pool of humiliation when the nuisance before him completed an overthrow.
"If you would just show me the slightest bit of respect, maybe I wouldn't have had to attack you." Hunrei said to the woman, bowing his head with a humorous grin. "Or, maybe you're simply too brainless to understand the term.."

::Seyla was fed up, and hungry. This young man would not put her into the ground.::

Perhaps it is you who ought to learn some respect, you uncouth bastard. How dare you demand I give you my name and attentions? A gentleman would have offered his name first. Now, you have tried my patience. You shall rue that. ::Seyla held out her hand and began to throw over him her hypnosis. Her image, voice and will would work its way into the young man's brain and blood. She would draw him closer and bend him to her will until she drained the very life from his veins. Seyla took a step closer, weaving her magic to root his feet to the ground. One flick of her finger would wrench his head to the side and expose his neck for her delight. She began to whisper her seductive words.::

Come to me... give in... be mine... ::She advanced slowly, pulling him ruthlessly with her hypnotic gaze. She opened her mouth and her razor sharp fangs grew and gleamed in the strong light. She would leave his empty shell lifeless, and deny him her blood. There would be no making this victim.. Seyla lowered her mouth to give the deadly kiss.::

She was calling to him, beckoning him to fall into its trap. He was fully aware of his own deadly plight, but in no way did he struggle from its grasp. It was the light at the end of the tunnel, its light-glimmering fangs came to him in bundles of crimson rose petals. (1)
His eyes grew larger, begging to be gifted with the true sight of whatever he had been wandering towards. It couldn't have been a threat. Something so gloriously intriguing. It owned his attention, and there was no doubt it would have continued to conceal itself, and eventually imprison him in its palm. It would have, if it wasn't for the fact Hunrei became ticked with it's control of him. Deep beneath his numerous planes of desire, the true Hunrei clammered through with the arrogant argument stating, "No one may control him in anyway, even as ideal as the figure before him."
He found himself drowned with pure annoyance. With almost every other emotion absent from his mind, Hunrei began feeling not a trace of lust for Seyla. It wanted him, and he was now too good for it. (2)
Being swathed in a blanket of sweat, Hunrei finally found himself able to move. He allowed his legs to collapse, revealing no violent intentions to his adversary. His weakened palm swept along the cement ground, and the stone plunged downward from beneath Seyla's feet. A hole continued to stretch, reaching through the stadium and into the soil. The edges of the mixed entrance and exit were deposited with the mass that had been moved outward to create the pit. The two movements caused a pattern of growing walls around Seyla's body, and a plummeting floor area under her feet.
Hunrei grinned as he rose. With folded arms, he began to close off the top of the growing cylinder. If she didn't fall to her death, she'd suffocate.

1: The rose was no doubt my favorite flower. Maybe not because it portrayed love, but more because it was famous, sitting on a throne that was created for it just by reputation. Something I strived for, I suppose.

2: If you consider that self-absorbed, you are feebleminded.

((Post 23))

::Seyla was pleased. She felt her prey slipping quickly under her spell and she bent her head low over his neck. The smell of blood was tantalizing to her. She set the sharp tips of her fangs to a vein and was about to take the hot, sweet first drink of his lifeblood when his demeanor changed. Some strong will broke loose in him and undid the magic of her seduction. Quickly he regained his senses and Seyla was quickly entrapped in a hollow pillar of stone. The floor fell away from underneath her and Seyla transformed her body. She became mist and pushed towards the circle of daylight at the top of the pillar. It began to close, but Seyla merely poured her vapourized form from the top of the stone pillar and enclosed the man's body in a cloud of fog. She wrapped around him with the chilling dew cloud and chuckled sweetly in his ear.::

You're going to have to try harder, my sweet little pet. You can't run from my thirst forever...

"I think you're incorrect." Hunrei said cynically.

His palm rose upward and brushed against the mist surrounding him. With a giggle, he closed his fist. The mist was no doubt water-based, something he was luckily able to control, and with no difficulty. With the locking of his curled fingers, he had partial control of Seyla's "body." He began to will the vapors together, and motion them towards his newly-created hole.
Seyla could fight it, but it would of course be useless. Hunrei could toss more willpower into the transformation (1), and she could waste a larger amount of her energy.

Hunrei's Kwan Dao sword lay beside his feet, it's metal end beginning to shudder with movement. It melded with the ground below, beginning to bend upright, its blade facing the skies. Nothing more then a back-up plan..

--o--

1: Being an easy element to control, I had a good amount of experience with water and it's phases. I wanted to morph her into the liquid state, but as I had said before, it would have taken no less then an hour or so. By that time, I most likely would have lost attention for a mere moment, giving Seyla the time to break free from my grasp.
Yes, I know my weaknesses.


{25}

::Seyla had the odd sensation that the man was manipulating the misty form to his own will. She was being moved, but he didn't honestly think she couldn't escape? Seyla changed her form again, this time she became a plague of rats. The verminous rodents fell out of the air and scampered across the ground, leaving Hunrei with one rat wriggling furiously in his fist. The rodent, still part of Seyla's true form, writhed and attempted to bite the fingers holding it. Then it merely wriggled free and joined its brothers and one mass along the ground and reformed into Seyla's body. She stood up and stretched her back, laughing at his follish ploy on her life.::

Silly mortal! You cannot dispose of me. I have spent 700 years roaming worlds and will spend eons more!

((sorry guys))

when we last left off with our hero Captain Heat, he was being scolded by an un-named man from behind, and a snobish rat damanding an apology from him. What will captain Heat administer to escape such dangerous forces. Only one way to find out in todays episodes

Captain Heat: Caught In The Cross-fire


Captain Heat was in deep trouble, he had one unsatisfied civilian in the back, and one measly thief in the front whos powers are equal to Captain Heats strength. First comes first, he must take one person at a time. Captain Heat turns to face the man who becons an answer on Captain Heats actions. "What kind of hero am I you ask?" Captain Heat left out a chortle. Captain heat then struck his ever famous pose "The Red Hot Pose"

Where ever evil exsists that treatend the lives of the innocent
When ever a criminal takes from a bank, every last cent
And no matter how fast they are on their feet
The will be apprehended by me Captain Heat.

Captain heat filled with his pride, struck another pose at the fact he made that rhyme up on the spot. "Does that answer your question?" He asked of the questioning man.

Now believing he was done with the questioning bystander, Captain Heat turns to take care of more importaint matters.

"As for you, you thief" He stated with might and glory pointing his index finger at the barbarian rat

"Justice will hold no apologies for your kind, now prepare, for your time out of jail is up"

Captain Heat began to summon his mighty power within his palms, and coated his hand in the flames of justice

"Now face my attack you rat" Captain Heat must use his force of justice, this Rat was not going to come quietly " Flame mittin" He gloriously announced and dove for the rats neck.

Will Captain Heat succeed in his attempts to sieze the rat?, and who is this unknown bystander that questions Captiain heats reason? Is he too a foe to Captain Heat and justice? Or is he too and ally of good and truth

Find out in the next action packed episode of

Captain Heat: Some like it Hot

"Geeze! What's with this guy? I already told him that fire attacks won't work!
...
I don't think he's gonna apologize..."

Unfortunately, it seemed that Captain heat wouldn't listen to common sense as he dove at the rodent with burning hands.

"Will Captain Heat succeed in his attempts to sieze the rat?, and who is this unknown bystander that questions Captiain heats reason? Is he too a foe to Captain Heat and justice? Or is he too and ally of good and truth?
Find out in the next action packed episode of

Captain Heat: Some like it Hot"

"AND WHO THE HELL KEEPS SAYING THAT!?!?!?!?"

Slade didn't attempt to move out of the way. There was no way that the flames surrounding Captain Heat's hands could hurt him. Despite what some might say, fighting fire with fire is never a productive idea. Quickly the "hero's" hands wrapped themselves around the thief's throat. Still Slade did nothing. The force of the impact caused him to stumble backwards and fall flat on his back.
The so called "hero" had Slade pinned beneath his weight, with his arms locked around the rat's throat.

Still the thief did not get the least bit discouraged. Instead, he simply smiled and said:
"Have you ever had rabies before?"
Before Captain Heat had any time to answer, Slade opened his mouth and Chomped down on the "hero's" right hand.