Dat Ass (Yukina)

MadCross. A bustling section of Abaddon that thrived on lust, greed, and wrath that lived beneath the waves and in the darkness. He ruled all of it from a building in the capitol area, and he powered everything from here. Hundreds of corpses were transported from all over MadCross everyday to be burned for garden mulch. The large currents stirred up the hydroelectric generators to make power for the rest of the city. The desalinization plants cleaned the water. The violence bred doctors and nurses and teachers and metal smiths, not to mention gun shops. All over the city there were dozens. At the core was the Violence. The death. Oh, MadCross smelt of death: the industrial district was no small exception with all the bodies that came through here. Nobody buried their dead in MadCross. The dead were not revered or remembered. Nobody idolized a corpse-- lifelessness meant that their was weakness. In a place where death rooted out the old and sickly, the immortal ruled. The immortal always ruled.


He was not in disguise for the moment. He was in a secluded area from the rest of the city, a large glass dome hidden along a down path. It was his pet project-- a secret arena for tournaments. It had technically been finished and all the builders disposed of properly, and all it needed was blood to christian it. Blood. How hungry his hands were. In twenty years of living in MadCross he had not found one foe worthy to face him. He clenched his fists and sighed, a trench coat flowing past his legs. His frame was large and muscular, but not bulky. He was svelte and his huge 6'5 frame standing in the center of the dome seemed foreboding. Against his deep Blue skin, the motion of the little sunlight filtered through the water made him almost blend with his surroundings. He stood silent, marveling at himself. Six thousand years, and finally something. The Source was finally awake. Who knows why, but the synchronization rates among certain individuals were increasing. He felt himself creeping upwards steadily in power, and rejoiced quietly. If he'd had a face, a smile would have crept across it. Instead a blank head without form examined his surroundings. Everything was going to be alright.

MadCross. A city under the waves - her kind of place. Yukina had known a city under the sea before, but it was different to this. This one was unlike anything she had seen before, apparently self reliant and contained, separated for the most part from any other region she had experienced thus far. In truth, it was her kind of place. The woman had always been most content when she was in or around the ocean, and having it surrounding her, while still retaining the comfort of being able to breathe, was a welcome addition. Further, the customs of the city suited her entirely. There weren't any formal laws, as far as she was aware, apart from 'don't die'. Cute. She had nabbed a healthy sum of money from unsuspecting victims in her time here already, slowly accumulating enough wealth to sustain herself for the time being. Not that she needed much wealth to live here, she imagined that she had more than enough in the way of stealth, strength and 'physical assets' to get whatever she wanted, free of charge. It was a perk of being who she was, and the special 'gift' of hers that she had attained upon entering this dimension made it even easier. She wasn't restricted to a certain niche anymore, her gift allowed her to be almost anyone's type; blonde, brunette, red-head, light or dark skinned. She could even change her eye colour, not that she ever thought there would even be a particular need for that, it was a nice little ability to possess.

Today, unlike any other day, Yukina's long, silken hair was a fiery shade of red. She still wasn't ready to be recognised - not yet anyway - and her signature teal locks were something of a giveaway, at least to anyone who knew her. Her skin was darker than usual, too, lightly brown and natural-looking. It was a heavy contrast to her usual 'look', that of the recluse who never left the Underworld, skin paled by time away from the sun. It was a welcome change, for it was true that long ago she had adored the sun, thirsted after the perfect bronzed skin. How time changes.

Now she had found herself in what appeared to be the Industrial District. She had heard that gang violence was rife in these parts, but as of yet she hadn't run into any trouble. She was wearing her body suit, weapons strapped to her thigh and hip, ready for action at a moments notice. It was by chance, really, that she noticed the apparently hidden path. Perhaps it was because she hadn't a goal, no destination in her wandering, that she was able to find it. Never the less, she decided to follow it. The hidden treasures were always the sweetest, after all.

As she neared the end of the tunnel, she quickly realised what she had walked into. It was a battlefield, an arena. And in it's centre, a man. Or at least what appeared to be something similar to a man. He was tall, but not inhumanly so, what was inhuman was his face... or lack thereof. Instinctively the woman's hands fell to her weapons, ready to draw at any second. Whoever he was, a man standing the centre of a hidden fighting arena was most likely not there to have a tea party.

He heard the steps coming through the silent hallways. Gentle thuds of boots to bronze approaching his arena and he felt a twinge of excitement come and go. He turned his faceless visage to her, the girl before him and stared at her silently for a long time. He was committing her to memory, her form, her curves... she ate well. She was ready to grab her weapons, and who could blame her? A big faceless blue thing in a dimly lit underwater dome staring at her? Did he smell shit? No, it was probably just her B.O... no, wait, it was his imagination. He choose a different shape, then. Her shape. With sick cracks and bends in his body he seemed to be crushed down to her stature and figure. Her skin color matched his own, his face hers, his hair and eyes. He smiled at her and smacked his own rump. Mmm. Firm. The proper amount of give.

"So you wanna play games, big boy?" She asked, her skin, hair and eyes all changing at once. Blue. The same blue that he was before he changed his appearance to match hers.

"I like games."

She pulled the gun from it's holster, twisting her fingers around it's handle and holding it loosely by her side. She cocked her head, wondering what this man intended to do. A fight seemed on the cards whatever the circumstance, so she wasn't gonna be a bitch about it. Pulling the gun up, aimed right as his head, she felt the Source flow through her, and she fired. A second's delay. She fired again, this time at his stomach. She remained light on her feet, ready for anything. There was a considerable distance between them, so no matter what she could prepare herself for whatever retaliation he might've had prepared. She smiled to herself, two encounters in, and they had both been fights. Perhaps she was suited to this universe, after all.

[[-30 Source. 20 remaining.]]

The first shot fired-- he was more or less impressed that she could actually hold a gun. She must have practiced with her fingers a lot in the kitchen while making the man or butch woman she was currently with a sandwich. A sandwich. He could go for a sandwich. Something delicious like turkey and swiss cheese. Oh maybe some pickles and... wait. There was something else happening right now. He came back to reality in time enough to move his face just out of the way of the bullet, and it scratched the face he wore currently. One second passed, and another shot fired. He stepped left and pulled back, twisting his stomach out of the way. The bullet wizzed by, a shot fired missed. He started walking forward. "That's not very nice," he said. But, it wasn't his voice. It was hers. Her voice was quite pleasant, and like the venom of a Black Widow meant for close and quick kills. "You shouldn't do that to this face," he cooed, "Its ugly enough as it is."

(From previous post, -10 source, 40 remaining)

He managed to mostly get out of the way of the first shot, but only barely. Perhaps he wasn't as formidable as his initial appearance had suggested, a sort of reversal on that old saying, 'a wolf in sheep's clothing'. He was just a sheep. She ignored his taunts, she was comfortable with her appearance now that her skill with illusion had returned to her. Even after things began to deteriorate in the other universe, even then there was no one as beautiful as her. Or at least, not anymore. She had a way of 'taking care' of the pretty bitches, they were never quite so pretty with a few limbs missing and only half the skin left on their faces. As he began to walk towards her, she began to walk backwards and to the side, matching his pace and maintaining the distance between them. She grabbed the dagger from it's sheath, holding it by her side.

"Careful now, might be wise to keep your distance." Her tone was one of warning, and not without merit, either. She may have been good with a gun, but she was better with a dagger. She had experience with knives, rending men, gouging them. There had been occasions where she had killed with a simple butter knife. Sure she was stronger then, but she was still confident in her ability. And so far, this cheap-trick magician hadn't even drawn a weapon. She sighed, she had been looking for a decent fight. No matter, she could move on quickly from this one to the next.

"Holy shit," said a voice coming from behind Yukina. "Have I walked in on some lesbian clone scene happening?" From the shadows came Shirou. He stood next to Yukina. He wondered how Yukina got here. Had she used his rift? Did Etzolix know she was here? And how had she already gotten into a fight...well, she was Yukina after all. While Shirou did not know much about the girl, he knew that she was fierce and akin to Etzolix.

He observed her doppelganger with interest. A nearly exact copy of Yukina."You know, you tried very hard to be indistinguishable from the original," he noted, impressed. "Though, the major flaw of it all, (besides her turning into a different color), is your personality. Then again, from the way you were acting, it seemed as though you had simply copied her appearance to try to break her down mentally. But, that's enough of me rambling." He glanced at Yukina next to him. "Mind if I join you?" He asked, already withdrawing his weapon from his back. He knew Yukina could take care of herself, but he was itching to fight.

"Oh, a big scary knife. Are you going to... put it inside of me?" He giggled. This would be too fun. He kept his walking even and steady when a newcomer appeared and started to analyze him. "Well, you're half right. I did do it to fuck with her. Kind of. I did it mainly so I can fuck around as her." He looked at the girl and winked. "Although, I'd worry more about what's behind her than what's in front of your faces." Just behind the girl a clone had formed, and leaned over and whispered in the girl's ear. "Behind you." Removing his attention from the boy he'd hoped the distraction he'd created for the girl would be enough to distract her. With an opening exposed he'd bolt forward, hopefully closing enough distance to punch her in the back of the head. If that worked, he'd follow up by grabbing her hair and yanking her to the ground. Plans would form from there.

(-10 source, 30 remaining)

"Shirou?" Yukina blinked, he was here? How many of them from that universe was there? Now wasn't the time for chat about it though, so she just cocked her head and kept her attention on the blue guy.

"Just don't get in my way." She said, coldly. She had never really cared for Shirou that much, merely tolerated him for Etzolix's sake. She would never admit it but the resentment probably stemmed from jealously, not that she had anything to worry about with Etzolix leaving her for a dude, but the two had spent so much time together than in truth, she thought that maybe Shi knew Etzolix better than she did. As the other man continued speaking, trying to taunt her into submission, she began to wonder about his tactics. He was an illusionist, obviously, so she tried to think back to when she fought like he did, what she had done to baffle and confuse.

That was when she heard the voice behind her. She spun, rapidly, dagger outstretched almost as if by instinct. It made contact, but then... didn't. It was nothing. A clone. She sighed, she should've known that, once upon a time she herself had used clones to a similar effect. Nonetheless, the inevitable happened as she spun with speed into nothing... she kept going. Straight into the ground. Her hands hit the dirt and the dagger skittered out of her hand, while she held on to the gun with all her might. It was important to keep the gun with her, for so far it had been of unequivocal assistance in her battles thus far. She looked up at the Blueman, apparently he had tried to punch her while her back had been turned, but the momentum of her fall had caused him to narrowly miss. Not wanting to give him an opportunity to strike while she was on the ground, she aimed a point blank shot at his chest. It wasn't so much that she cared about hitting or not, it would just get him out of the way... enough time for her to get up and back to the knife, or at least enough time for Shirou to do something.

Shirou smirked at Yukina's reply. The feelings were mutual. While Shirou considered Yukina an ally and had respect for her, that's about as far as it went. He turned his attention back to the doppelganger. The more this copycat talked, the less Shirou liked him. He, or she, or rather, it, was so arrogant. Shirou would enjoy beating it down. There was a voice behind them, talking to Yukina, but Shirou ignored it. He knew that it was just some spell or whatever. Then, the doppelganger ran towards Yukina, aiming to punch her. He tensed up. As soon as Yukina dropped, Shirou swung his Hybrid at the incoming it, in an arc that would lop off it's arm.

I was careless. I was wrong. I should have been thinking, but I just wanted to fight. No sooner did the girl fall and he extended his right arm did the glint of an intricate and well crafted blade make itself known. He miscalculated. He didn't see this man as a threat so he attacked after distracting the girl, but had completely banished the boy from his mind. And this was his penance. Right arm and shoulder forward, the blade swung up along his chest and at his angled down face, and his outstretched arm. It was sharp. It was going to cut him arm of right at the shoulder and cut his skull in twain. He needed to react. Think. THINK. Six thousand years and this is how it ends?

Nonononono. No. No. NO.

If time ever stopped for a moment, it was here. Right now. A sword almost at chest level, broadside facing his body, edge headed for his arm. THINK. Think quickly. He left hand. Free. Open palm, shove forward. He managed to catch the blade at the broad side, cutting his palm at the distal palmar region from the push forward. With his strength, its a wonder it didn't slice right through. The angle of the hit allowed him to compensate for the swing's arc, but he still was cut along his hand. That was acceptable. While his other hand shot out and pushed to counter the attack, his other arm did not stand idle. It had instinctively started raising the moment he noticed the blade and just prior to making contact with it he'd started pulling the entire right of his body back, pushing the floor with his left foot for distance from leverage. He jerked his right arm back with room to spare, the full extension of his arm out keeping the sword at a distance. But his hand did not leave the sword. Instead, he pulled it down to the full broad side of the blade and rushed inward along it, using the ball of his right foot as leverage to propel himself forward.

He jumped inwards from his foot and lunged at the man, his right arm back as it stretched into an extension. He was going punch this guy in the face-- maybe take his sword in the process if he could help it. If he managed to actually make the hit the stranger should be staggered enough from the effect of Source Strike for him to grab the wrist that held the sword, and maybe throw the imbalanced man to the ground. If the man stepped back he would press simply farther forward and attack at any opening-- stomach, leg, head, ect. If the man grabbed his fist he would push it outwards at a full extension, using his momentum to catapult his body into the young man and head butt him or perhaps even kick him should the opportunity arise. If the fist was slapped away then there were other options, such transitioning into a charge or sliding at his legs or knees. As for the girl? Hopefully she sucks at aiming. She might accidentally shoot her friend. All he would say as he charge the man is "New target! Better target!"

More or less, Yukina had gotten what she wanted. While the bullet had missed as the Blueman turned his attention on to Shi, all she really wanted was to get the guy away for long enough so that she could pull herself back together. She moved quickly, edging backwards to pick up her dagger before leaping back on to her feet, following their opponents charge with weapons at the ready. Despite not really caring about Shi's wellbeing, he was an ally in this particular battle, and attempting to fire at the Blueman now would be risky at best. But it was no matter, she was better with a dagger anyway... she just wanted to give him a chance, after all.

While Blueman had the headstart, Yukina was faster. She lunged forward with her dagger at the same moment he began his assault on Shirou, aiming to jam it into the man's ribcage. She smirked as she did so, there was no hope of them losing this battle now, was there? She could tell that the Blueman had underestimated them, his rash action in trying to punch her while Shirou was standing right there with a sword was evidence enough of that. They were just as powerful as he was, and there were two of them... where was the contest, really?

As the it jumped towards him, aiming to punch him, Shirou jumped back as well. However, he jumped back at an angle where he fell down, while also pulling his Hybrid back, which would either cut the hand further, unbalance it and throw of it's attack, or pull it out of it's hand. He did this as he brought his foot up to kick it towards it's neck. He landed, rolling to the side, and popped back on his feet, prepared for a counter attack.

Behind him, footsteps gaining quickly. In front, a kick incoming. Think. This was not going to end well, but he was going to do damage one way or the other. He felt a dagger plunge into his ribs-- AND IT FUCKING HURT. IT HURT LIKE A BITCH. I MEAN, HOLY SHIT. ITS A DAGGER. STABBING HIM. IN THE RIBS. But he manned the fuck up. In his mind, something worse emerged. Something that numbed the pained as he pulled back his head. Her. He survived her. Her sexual fantasies. Her wrath. He killed her. He ended the most painful nightmare and endured things no being mortal or immortal could imagine. He felt the impact his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around the boys leg, grabbing the area just below the boy's knee. "VANDERBAAAAAAAAAIG!" A violent, horrifying scream of a name laced with pain and madness.

The dagger ripped back through him as he pushed forward, a gash ever widening. He pulled back with his hand and pressed forward with his shoulder, aiming to break the young man's knee back. This would be his moment right now. Pressing off of his foot, he raised the other in a desperate final bid to kick this bitch in the face and make her nose crooked. It was all her ever wanted. To kick this bitch in the face and make her have a crooked nose. That, and Sohtrie's Source. He wanted that too. But hey, choices. You have to make some.

A sick wave of satisfaction washed through her as the dagger connected, sinking deep into flesh. She ripped and twisted as he pulled forward, her smile only interrupted by the backwards kick that smacked into her chest. It knocked her back, and hurt... a lot. She couldn't see whatever he was doing to Shirou in front of her, but judging by what she could hear it didn't sound pleasant. Anyway, the force of the kick was enough to disorient her for long enough that she was unable to help Shirou escape whatever it was the blue guy was trying, but now she was pissed. She pulled herself together, breathing deeply before walking forward again, not bothering to hurry as she didn't think he was going far at this point. She grabbed the man by the back of the head, a handful of hair and ripped backwards. She was enjoying this... as much as Etzolix loved to be punished, she loved to punish. And that was a lot.

"Listen you little bitch freak, you're gonna come with me and we're gonna have a little talk." She hissed into his ear, her voice full of malice. "Or you can stay here and bleed to death. Your call."

Shirou felt his leg get grabbed in two different places. The it was going to try to break his leg. Without wasting a single second, Shirou brought up his other leg, kicking the hand that was on the lower part of his leg, throwing off what it was trying to do, and preventing it from breaking his leg. He then ripped his leg free and rolled out from under, watching as Yukina took control of the situation. He felt a bit weary. Not by the it, but by Yukina.

"Listen you little bitch freak, you're gonna come with me and we're gonna have a little talk." She hissed into his ear, her voice full of malice. "Or you can stay here and bleed to death. Your call."

"Mmm..." he giggled. "Buy me dinner first and then we'll talk."

(-5 source for Source Strike being triggered when the kick hit Yukina)

Yukina frowned at the man, dragging him by the hair and on to the ground. She slammed him down so that he was lying on his back, before crawling on top of him, dagger in hand and pressed against his throat. She leaned forward so her head was hanging above his, staring deep into his eyes - her eyes - as she did so. Whoever this was, whatever this was... it was stronger than the average person she had met so far. Still weak, but it had the potential to grow in to something more. Perhaps something dangerous. And she could not allow that to happen.

"Now... I don't want to kill you," she began, pressing the edge of her blade a little closer into his neck, "But that doesn't mean I won't." She turned her head to the side, like an inquisitive animal, wondering what to do with her prey.

"But... if I let you go, I don't think you'll be a very good pet to me. You seem like you might be hard to keep track of." She smiled, a sadistic smile, she was ready. "So... I'm going to make sure I'll always be able to find you... how does that sound?"

She turned her head back up to Shi, keeping the dagger firmly placed at her doppleganger's throat.

"Shirou, be a good boy and fetch me some rope. Or at least something to tie our little friend's hands and feet." She turned her attention back down to her captive. "I think me and you are going to be good, good friends."

Shirou watched quietly as Yukina grabbed and dragged her doppelganger and mounted her. He had the weird boner right now. He wanted to somehow take a picture to show Etzolix later, but he had no method. Maybe they would make out or eventually--wait, she was talking to him. Yukina wanted him to get rope. Nodded hastily, Shirou opened a rift. He ran into it, and a moment or so later, exited holding a roll of rope. He handed it to Yukina. "Here, uh, Yuki." He felt the weirdest urge to refer to her as master, but he decided not to, because that would be weird.

"I'll bet," he cooed up to her. "Rope? I like where this is going already. Get some bleach and a turkey baster and we can have a grand old time."

"Good boy," she said to Shirou, taking the rope into her free hand. She wished she had some kind of doggy treat to feed him, it was important to employ positive reinforcement to keep your pets in line. She then turned her attention back to the real issue at hand, the bitch between her legs. She grabbed the doppleganger with both hands, holding the dagger and rope between her fingers, before rolling the body underneath her, pressing the Blueman's face into the dirt. She then returned her dagger to the sheath at her waist, satisfied that her prisoner wouldn't attempt to escape, and truthfully, even he did, she doubted he would get very far before she killed him. He was far too wounded.

She slid down his body, grabbing both of his hands and began to tie them together. She did them tight, perhaps too tight, not caring about her captive's comfort.

"So... you might as well start talking. Who are you?" She asked, pulling the final knot into place, tight. She didn't expect him to answer, but that was kind of the plan. If he lied to her, or refused to answer, she would punish him, and he would begin to learn... the hard way. She glanced at Shirou, her eyes demanding him to take note. Perhaps he might learn something here, and make himself useful.

"Who? That's a bad question: it implies I have an actual identity." He ran his tongue across his lips. "I've had far too many faces, names, and voices to count." He writhed gently against her, a sick grin on his face. "Why don't you name me? After all, I am your... 'pet', aren't I?"

Yukina let out an audible sigh. He had given her what she wanted, she only wished he might've made it a little more difficult. No matter, at least now she had her opportunity to affirm her dominance. She pulled the dagger from it's sheathe, grabbing one of his fingers - it was difficult to tell which one or to what hand it belonged to, with how they were tied together - and pressed the tip of the blade underneath the fingernail. Lightly, but the intent was there. If he gave her anymore shit, the fingernail would come off... and then the next one... and then the next one...

"I know how 'illusionist's' like you work," she said, twisting the dagger slightly, reaffirming it's presence, "so what do they call you, what do you look like here?" She said referring to this world, this dimension. She knew that he would've stolen someone's identity, they all did it. It was a game, life was a game to an illusionist, and she knew this one was no different.

"They call me several things, mistress," he let out a long deep breathe. "Mmm... these ropes feel nice." An eyebrow raised, curiosity struck. "Here they call me... Azmot, ruler of Altostratus."

"I believe..." she said, jamming the dagger deep into his fingernail, "I asked what you look like." She said, smiling as the broken fingernail fell away. Blood began to rush down, and she moved the dagger to the next finger.

Azmot. She knew an Azmot. It couldn't have been the same one, the one she knew wasn't smart enough to be an illusionist. Even an illusionist pretending to be dumb was smarter than that guy. Azmost was more of a stooge.