Sorry, The Only Power Left Is Alteration.

The stained sword arced toward Circe with a swish.

Back arched.

Neck craned.

Chest tensed.

Head thumped against the floor.

She winced as teeth smacked together and almost bit her tongue. The back of her hands slid above her as she tried to keep her arms out of the way. The smooth portion of the sword swiped the tip of her nose. A streak of blood sprayed across her pink shirt. Senseless babbling mixed with hoarsely screamed laughter assaulted her ears. It proved disorienting, painful listening.

Sword arced upward again. Fingers released the hilt with a twist to reposition the blade before clasping again. Yet instead of slashing from the opposite direction, Adonis raised the sword and faced the blade outward with both hands gripping the hilt. The stained stainless steel glinted with the neo-fluorescent cave light before it swished down with the force of tensing muscle. The blade fell toward the center of her body lengthwise. Circe squeezed her eyelids shut.

“Oww!”

A firm hand grabbed her by the wrist and yanked with such force that her shoulder popped. Her legs slid across the floor, slightly spread as she sensed the weapon swishing down between them. The strike clanged against stone with a spark.

The tip of the sword caught the bottom center of her shorts to slice a small hole into them. She craned her head and opened her eyes to see Alfredo huffing as he dragged her along by the wrist with a painfully tight grip on her limb.

“Ablub abub gorple frumpis dafnoli baloney!” Adonis screamed as he pointed at them with his weapon.

The twisting grip on her wrist made the skin turn bright red as he pulled her along the floor as fast as he could without a care for her dragging legs or dislocating shoulder. Circe winced.

Adonis sprinted at them. His head band slipped over his left eye. Gum smeared his tight black curly hair. Alfredo was no match for his speed, nor did he have time to help Circe to her feet.

The sword raised above the gum smeared hair. Then Adonis turned the blade to the six o'clock position and shifted it so that the back nearly slid along his face. Instead of swinging he thrust the tip of the blade at her chest like it was a spear.

Alfredo let go of her wrist. Circe felt her butt slide along the floor as the blade came at her ribs. The older man swung to backhand the blade with enough force to divert it.

The tip of the blade crashed into the floor and skidded slightly as the sparking tip chipped centimeter away from Circe's hip. The force of the strike jolted Adonis’ arm and he craned his neck.

“Bilbo!”

Adonis clenched his fist, coiled his free arm back, and punched Alfredo in the face. Blood squirted from Alfredo’s nose as the power of the strike sent him backwards nearly a meter and toppled him over. He remained spread out on the floor as Circe shivered. Adonis raised his sword again with a scream that made him swirl in her vision. Her eyes focused on the movement of the weapon.

"BAGINS!"

Circe tensed her body lengthwise without trying to get up. Then she rolled. It didn’t matter which direction, she simply tumbled as fast as her body could take her. The blade smashed lengthwise into the stone floor next to her.

Adonis insisted on raising the blade and bringing it crashing down with the full force of his strength. Now on her stomach, she listened for the blade's swishing and rolled in the opposite direction. The blade chipped against the stone floor again.

Think! He sounded a bit winded. His swings weren’t as fast, and he was using a katana like a hammer. Circe listened carefully. Roll now!

A thick boot curbed stomped the shin of her right leg at an unfortunate angle.

Bone snapped.

“Gnyaahhhhh!” she heard herself scream in a super high pitch as she spit. Tears sprayed from the sides of her eyes.

Adonis ground his boot while leaning his full weight into the break so as to separate her tibia and stretch the flesh. Circe spit, screamed, and pounded her fists. Tears flew from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

She pressed her head against the floor and sensed the vibrations of an approaching stampede.

“Roli Poli Polly. No more go rolling!”

Adonis laughed insanely. He gave his foot one last perch over top her broken leg. The sound of her gasping and wheezing in pain became music to his ears.

“Polly go bye byes,” he whispered.

Then he burst out laughing. He bellowed with such power that it split through all her other pains and dominated them. The ragged sword went high above her back. Circe felt a swish of warm moist air. There was a smack followed by a gasp. The laughter stopped.

Circe took a deep breath upon realizing she wasn’t dead and her leg was free. Elbows and fists slammed the floor as she pushed with her left leg and crawled toward Alfredo, who laid prone on his back with a bubbling bloody nose.

Meanwhile, rolls of fat jiggled as the butcher battered the face of Adonis with a series of left hooks. One after another, the butcher grunted while punching in quick succession. The crazed man clung to the sword tightly, yet it remained down and at his side as he tanked punch after punch to the face.

Fedor slid his opponent backwards toward the stage with meat softening punches that tilted back and methodically landed like a slow jack hammer. Teeth began to separate from Adonis’ gums as his lips split apart. Finally, Fedor raised the cleaver with his right and readied to swing.

Instead of taking an easy swing for the neck, Fedor instinctively raised the cleaver high for a disemboweling cut as he narrowed his eyes tensely. The slower attack allowed Adonis to react. Fedor’s cleaver stopped against a divot in the chipped blade. Adonis jumped back to put some distance between himself and the slightly winded butcher. Then he charged forward with renewed energy for a counter assault.

Azoria gazed from the podium breathlessly with the spade of her tail raised far above her. Her knuckles gripped the sides of the smooth stained wood so tightly it began to crunch and splinter. Eyes burned a glowing bright neon red as her pupils narrowed into slits. Her hair flowed as if in the midst of a great wind. She took deep flowing breaths through her nose. A soft pink tongue slid across her lower lip.

Mog-dell stood beside her, asleep while standing. A bubble of snot rose and fell from the beefy bull's left nostril.

Circe paid little attention to the sound of combat behind her. She shuffled her way towards Alfredo and poked him, then pushed at him with her hand. There was a muffled gurgle to the man’s breathing that sounded like choking on blood.

Mark nodded to his group and then strolled over while twirling his baton. He poked the body with it. Circe got on her hands and knees, a bit out of breath and wincing as she tugged at Alfredo's arm.

“You need help?” the officer asked.

Circe nodded.

“Hey, old man, wake up!”

Mark slammed the baton down into the prominent gut, causing legs and arms to jolt with a spit, heave, and a cough.

“Didn’t you hear me the first time? Get up!”

Then he slammed the baton down into the same spot again. Circe forced herself up on one foot and balled her fists as her right foot dangled at a slightly odd angle with even minimal weight on it.

“Do that again and so help me I will end your filthy pig career with my bare hands.”

“And just what exactly are you going to do if I refuse? Beat me up? Cry?”

Mark raised the baton for another strike and swung it down, but Alfredo raised his arm and caught his wrist before the baton reached his gut. His eyes glowed slightly as his power activated.

 

Stat Growth:

Torso Toughness +1

Head Toughness +1

Grip +3

Arm Strength +2

Ability Level Up:

Oni Form Novice 02

 

An electric current ran through Mark's baton but Alfredo twisted his wrist to keep it from touching him. Both of their hands went a little numb, which allowed Mark to force his wrist free at the cost of a stumble backwards. Blood leaked from Alfredo’s nose down to his chin and lips. A clot stuck in the back of his throat that he needed to cough up and spit out. His mouth tasted like iron.

Slightly bloated and wrinkled hands pushed against his thighs as he forced himself up before Mark could recover his footing. He glared at the officer and made a fist at his side.

“You heard the little lady; I’d lay off it if I was you. Nobody here gives a rat’s tooth that yuh used tuh be a cop. So if yuh wanna throw hands then let's go then.”

The baton twirled before sliding back in his belt as he quietly whistled. Then he backed away, still whistling. Circe stayed standing in place as Alfredo came toward her. The pain was so strong that her leg screamed as bone shifted under the muscle. The break was close to her shin, so when she lifted it, her foot hung slightly with the support of bruised skin, muscle, and tendon.

“I think I broke my leg.”

Circe deflated, went down to one knee, then collapsed on all fours panting because of the pain. Throughout the cave, fights broke out as the crowd began feeling out their powers. Alfredo knelt by her side and put his arms out.

“Lemme carry yuh, this ain't time to not be moving! Maybe we can find a doctor who hasn’t lost his marbles.”

Circe hesitated. More announcements bellowed from the ceiling.

Amber Delacroix: Inefficient Manager: HITBOX ZERO!

FATALITY!

Hermann Grutusch: Outspoken Nationalist: HITBOX ZERO!

FATALITY!

Hesitation probably wasn't in her best interest.

“Fine, just don’t drop me and try not to jostle too much.”

Alfredo scooped her into his arms and raised her rather gently by lifting with his legs just like they taught him at the docks. He surveyed the field and cursed under his breath. The woman’s right leg looked a bit discolored but mostly in place without any pressure on it. He didn't see bone pushing through the skin at least.

“Now what?”

Circe whinged in pain as her lower legs swayed when he turned left, saw a fight, and pivoted right a bit too quickly.

“You came up with a plan this time, so if you want to help me so much, follow it.”

The slightest hint of purpose and pride escaped his hoarse trembling voice.

“Yuh can count on me. Boss.”