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Party of a lifetime!(Open to 4 others and Marcus)

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With number four out of the fight, Marcus did a quick check. Situational awareness was about as important as stamina and a mean right hook in brawls like these. Case in point, he managed to snatch a rather expensive bottle out of the air as it passed him by. If it was an errant throw or a shot for his head was impossible to tell in the chaos. Now then, to his front, Fenrir and Jared.

He took a moment to roll his shoulders.

"Fenrir, old dockside saying. Eat drink be merry-" he side stepped another bottle, "-for tomorrow ye may be dead."

With a grin he swung wide and high at Jared's face, up and over his temporary ally. Jared simply leaned back, comfortably far out of Marcus' reach with Fenrir in the way. His eyes were mocking, until he saw that Marcus' grin had never faded. The engineer simply let go of the bottle and let the centrifugal force do the rest. At this short range, he couldn't possibly miss, and so the bottle met face with the satisfying tone of shattered glass.

"Willing to take five and deal with him before we start though." he added, considerately. "By the by that was Revenge of the Deathstalker."

Hopefully, Fenrir would get the hint, as that was the only drink in the bar considered a firestarter. Combine the fact that Jared was now doused in flammable liquid with the faunus' demonstrated abilities with fire, this fight should be over right quick.

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Fenrir smiled. He created a line of wind cannon glyphs, the ordinarily grey cylinders turned fire red when he added flame dust to it, "BURN BABY BURN!" The line of cannons fired and hit square in Jared face. The man flailed about until someone dumped water on him, extinguishing the flames, "well...damn. that was fun while it lasted. He turned to Marcus,  "so, do you want to use tournament rules or about good old fashioned brawl?" He felt the air change, his accent gone, he looked over his shoulder, "I swear, some people just can't take a hint. by the by, he never did answer my question about the kitten. hey, bud. why can't you leave the girl alone?" a garbled bit of nonsense followed by a staggering retreat was the less than satisfactory answer. Fenrir picked up a bottle off the ground and drained the whiskey in one go, "now, I believe the ladies have gone to brine end. We should probably make sure they're still ok."

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"They'll be fine. You on the other hand." Marcus replied and slammed his fists into one another.

"Brawl, right here right now, till unconscious. Offend the lady I was totally maybe going to score with, now that I cannot let slide. Winner takes the loser with him as trophy, before the fuzz show up." he explained. Well that, and he wanted to know what exactly he was dealing with here. This psycho got his jollies by seeing a harmless lass get offed, and that just didn't sit right with him. Aside from that, Fenrir in general just confused him, with his erratic behaviour and smiles that were ever so slightly off.

The true way to get a measure of a man was to give him power, as the saying went. What was less known that, if you didn't have power to give, a good fist fight was a potent second method.

Marcus slid his left foot backward and adopted a powerful if static stance. Confident, strong, immobile. I don't seek out trouble, but god help you if you ___k with me I will end you.

"Show me what ya got!"

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Fenrir blankly stared at Marcus, "score? is that how you see the kitten? tell me, is this love speaking or is it lust? Do you feel as if she completes you and raises you to something more than you are? Does the thought of her death leave you weak and suffocated? Does your heart flutter unevenly every time she looks at you? are you willing to endure hell itself for her?" He lazily hefted a stood over his shoulder and stood looking at Marcus for at minute before nodding, "you haven't felt true love, have you? a love so deep that you feel as if you could conquer tje world if it meant you could spend time with her. As love so high that when she dies, you will be crushed and ground by the despair. something so pure, that no matter how bad ya done goofed, she will never let you fall far." He set the stool on the floor, "if this is what the kitten makes you feel, then you sure as hell better take care of her." Fenrir windstepped behind Marcus,  "The gods will take her away soon enough." He dropped and leg swept Marcus followed by a knife hand at a pressure point on Marcus' left arm and an Axe kick for the collarbone.

Actions:
Leg sweep: 20 damage
Knifehand: 20
Axe kick: 20
Aura recovery: + 5 AP

Hp: 50
Ap: 225

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Marcus tilted his head to the side. Well that went into a slightly more dramatic direction than he anticipated. He exhaled as Fenrir set down the stool, that would have been annoying to deal withoh____he'sfast.

By the time he shifted his weight and whipped his around to face Fenrir the low kick caught his ankle of his fortunately by now off leg. His foot shifted somewhat, but he maintained his balance.

hit taken -15 res 5 DMG taken

"Dude we're both single-" Marcus grunted as a knife hand glanced off his aura,-

hit taken -15 res 5 DMG taken

"-attractive-" Fenrir's leg rose in an axe kick and Marcus seized the opportunity. Fenrir was faster than him, clearly. Get off an entire axe kick before Marcus could get in a straight jab? Time to test that.

Marcus' struck with the force of a cannon, aimed at the obvious weakspot Fenrir exposed by raising his leg that far.

counter(?) 20 DMG dealt

"-stop making it complicated." he said and went back to his guarded position. To follow up would have been possible, but Marcus wanted to see more of what made the faunus tick. Also, a shot to the nuts that forceful actually made him feel sort of sorry for the guy.

"Seriously if it develops into that? Would be nice, but this is real life not a romance novel. S___'s slightly more complex than just a spark at first sight." he finished.

HP recovery +5
Marcus HP: 115/120 | AP 180/180

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Marcus' counter was slow and easy to read. Fenrir shifted to the side and switched to another leg sweep combined with a clothesline chop, "there was a time I would have laughed at the idea of love. Then Rose happened." He leapt over Marcus and landed gently on the bar, "you can mock live at first sight all you want, but it did once exist. When she looked at me, it wasn't with disgust, hate, or revulsion.  She could see past the blood that has so throughly stained my soul and see me." Marcus had hit a nerve, and the worst part was, Fenrir doubted it was on purpose. "Things change when you get a conscience. But I'm just just a weapon , and weapons aren't supposed to have a sense of morality. so the princess' name was slapped on a kill order and Rose was murdered and no one batted an eye." He took a swig from a beer bottle left on the bar and looked Marcus right in the eye, "face it, it's all huntsmen and huntresses are, weapons. We exist for bo other reason than to destroy." He casually flicked his hand and a burst of flame launched towards Marcus.

Actions:
Leg sweep: 20
Clothesline: 20
Fire dust: 35
Aura recovery: +5 AP

Hp: 50
Ap: 230

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Part of Marcus admired the flexibility that allowed Fenrir to lean to one side, halfway through an axe kick attack, on one foot. The other part screamed various colourful explicit variations of 'Seriously?!'.

Next attack was the low sweeping kick again, this time within Marcus' field of view. His foot lifted up ever so slightly and took the attack on the sole. Likewise, his right arm moved up and angled itself to intercept the chop. Neither limb moved more than the bare minimum necessary to pull off the required blocks. Like waves crashing into a cliff, the attacks slid off his rock solid defences. Problem was, Marcus just wasn't fast enough to get a counter in, and he knew damn well what happened when enough waves hit a cliff.

Hit taken -5HP
Hit taken -5 HP


He needed a new strategy.

Fenrir leapt. For a brief moment, the faunus was up in the air. A beautifully executed, utterly predictable ballistic arc. Without even looking at the landing spot, Marcus knew exactly where and when Fenrir would land. He whirled around and hit the bar. Literally. His fist impacted hard enough to send a shockwave ripple through the solid sheet metal, timed to coincide with the faunus' touchdown.

Dodge Marcus' fists? Yeah sure, fine.

Try and dodge gravity.

Of course, just unsteady footing alone wasn't going to do much damage. It would however force Fenrir to hold still just a tiny moment to adjust to formerly solid ground turning into soup all of a sudden, and Marcus already let fly a swing to exploit exactly that.

Attack: 20 DMG

There was a cheerful, cocky smile on Marcus' face. Still too complicated mate, and the past is the past. It is time to live in the now. The now is punches.

Hit, fireball (interrupted)
Marcus HP: 105/120 | AP 180/180


((OoC: This action cuts into Fenrir's speech from the point where he lands on the bar onwards so Marcus can't respond to that speech IC. Shockwave thing is basically what Yang pulled in the Yellow trailer weaponised.))

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Fenrir rode the shock wave effect of Marcus' punch, letting it move him to the side clear of the counterattack. Boxer, relies on brute strength combined with prediction of movements . He had fought enough symmetrical opponents to have already figured a plan. boxers, for all their strength and endurance, where static fighters and could only operate one way. He casually stepped off the bar and cracked his neck, "I'm not sure how much I dislike you now. You hit the one button no one has ever survived touching." His voice became flat and dead, eyes locked on his opponent, "I'll try to hold back some, but no promises." He dashed forward and leapt into the air again. He figured Marcus would track his trajectory and be prepared so he altered it downward midflight and used the momentum to sweep his legs about and trip up the human. Fenrir spun to his feet and followed up with an Axe kick, using the momentum generated for a flying high kick. A palm strike aimed at Marcus' chest ended the attack and he jumped back, ready to strike again. The whole thing took maybe ten seconds,   a bit slow there, need to focus.

Action:
Leg sweep: 20
Axe kick: 20
Palm strike: 20

Hp:40 (I imagine the shock wave would've had some effect even if the attack missed)
Ap: 235

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“Keep a grip lad.” Marcus responded. His eyes shone in amusement. I will win this.

As Fenrir so accurately guessed, he was in fact a boxer. However, 'boxer' did not define Marcus. It was incidental to his true calling, a sideshow at best. While raw force and extreme endurance were nice to have, when the chips were down Marcus fought with his brain. Fenrir was too fast for him to deal with conventionally, and that was fine.

In the words of his favourite comedy troupe; and now for something completely different.

He stepped back as Fenrir leapt for him. The faunus hit the apex of his jump, Marcus punched right through the side of the bar. One step back took the engineer out of legsweep reach, and in the same motion he liberated his arm from the bar.

He admired the strategy at work. If he had charged in like a ____nut that follow up axe kick would have hurt like a son of a _____.

If.

As it was, Marcus backed up further and mentally took aim. The faunus leapt forward in a high kick. Marcus fell to his knees and thrust upwards with his chosen weapon: the king sized bottle of dishwasher soap he stole from the bar not a second ago. A stream of green slippery soap shot straight for the extended legs. Hope you have an interesting landing furball.

“I'm not mocking true love. Just saying that eyecontact one moment and picking out engagement rings the next is a bit quick for my tastes, is all.” he called out as he leapt onto the bar.

Natural recovery:+5 HP
Marcus HP: 110/120 | AP 180/180

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Fenrir felt the soap on his legs and feet, "nice try boyo." He planted his hands and spun about and then regained his feet, which almost slipped out from under him. He launched himself into the air and cast a series of glyphs to stick to the wall and launched a wave of unguided sparrows at Marcus, "Love at first sight has nothing to do with it. All my life, people have looked at me with fear, hate. Rose didn't look at me like. She was the only one to see me as a person and not a monster." He jumped to the ground and launched himself using a windcannon glyph to slide along the floor swiftly into Marcus with a spin kick. Marcus seemed to be more asymmetrical than he first thought. This was going to be more fun than Fenrir originally thought, "You know what really pissed me off back in the cave? Dear little Periwinkle looking at us like we were heroes. The same look that Rose gave me when she found out what I was. She understood that sometimes it takes a monster to protect the innocent. And yet she didn't react the way everyone else did" He kicked at Marcus' knee, "That little girl had no right to have that look on her face." He aimed two more palm strikes at pressure points on Marcus' torso. the soap was making it hard to plant his feet, but at least he'd be able to move faster. He used the already cast glyphs to boost his speed and dodge the incoming.

Actions:
mobility variant glyphs: -10 ap
Sparrow glyphs: -20 ap 20 damage
knee kick: 20 damage
palm strikes x2: 20 damage/20 damage
AP Regen: +5 ap

HP:40
AP: 210

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Marcus simply stepped forward, dropped off the bar and let the sparrows fly harmlessly over his head.

“Well-” he started to say, when Fenrir continued.

"You know what really pissed me off back in the cave? Dear little Periwinkle looking at us like we were heroes. The same look that Rose gave me when she found out what I was. She understood that sometimes it takes a monster to protect the innocent. And yet she didn't react the way everyone else did-"the faunus said. Pain lanced through Marcus knee,  the engineer surprised by the sheer speed of the semblance powered assault.

Hit taken -5HP

What Fenrir said next though, hit him a lot harder.

"That little girl had no right to have that look on her face."

The smile fled from Marcus' face. God f___ing ____it just when I thought I could get to like you.

His fists slammed into the palm strikes as his aura flared.

Hit taken -5HP
Hit taken -5HP


“Okay first zip up your pants and put away that hateboner for a second.” he stated flatly. Then he shoved his fists forwards into the palms with the force of an avalanche.

Now, force equals mass times acceleration. The key part here is acceleration, change in speed, and most importantly not the same as speed itself. It meant that in order to turn left or right, ergo the changing the speed at which one moves a in a certain direction, one needed to push off something. The harder the push, the greater the resulting change in speed, and thus the tighter the turn. Aura could mess with the variables, but the formula itself remained valid at all times.

Or in short, slippery soap made movements predictable. Especially when the initial push was under Marcus' control.

He reached back to a series of bottles on the bar and started to pelt Fenrir with the rate of a machinegun.

“Because this-”

Attack 20 DMG

“-whole situation-”

Attack 20 DMG

“-seriously smacks-”

Attack 20 DMG

“-of a fake signature.”

Attack 20 DMG

Marcus HP: 90/120 | AP 180/180

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Fenrir slid back and watched as the bottles flew towards him. Did no one learn? He flicked insignificant glyphs that slightly deflected the projectiles, "Hate? I'm no longer capable of hate. I died the day I set foot on Bellmuse. Funny, isn't it? I have a heartbeat and breath but I'm not truly alive" he considered for a moment how much to reveal to Marcus. The man seemed like an honest, loyal type. "If you must know, It was necessary for the princess to die. There are, well...were, twenty-three plots against the royal family. Most of them centered around Periwinkle acsending the throne after the king and queen died of accidents or natural causes." He stretched and rolled his neck, "you can believe whatever you want but Bellmuse is rotting from the inside out." He tracked a bottle flying towards him and tilted his head so it would hit him just right. A flash of stars and he smiled as he hit the floor.

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