Dark Reign: A Dangerous Misunderstanding

Needless to say, Raul's plea to be kindly to each other fell on deaf ears. Before he even finished putting his hands into the air, the two men began to close in on the lone fighter. They we're organized... tactful. Clearly, the two had done this before a number of times, each thing know the others pattern. The driver had managed to pull out a long, metal pipe he must have stashed in his door, and very soon the two thugs would lirch forward, looking to ravage Raul and leave him a broken, bleeding mess on the pavement!

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Meanwhile, Markus stared at the clock above the bar. He was amazed it wasn't broken or wrong, judging by the poor quality of everything else in the bar. He had pocketed the needle seconds after Raul left, and simply spun hos drink around with his finger, not even slightly interested in drinking the thing. His dull red eyes just kept staring at the clock as it ticked away, silently counting the minutes that passed.

Finally, twenty minutes had passed. It should have been about time...

Markus finally got up from his chair, leaving his glass full and his chair tipped over. He didn't pay anyone attending any mind. Not even tell screaming bartender that insisted he pay for his drink. Markus simply walked out the door, and into the night.

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It was only about a ten minute walk before Markus heard the sounds of a scuffle. He knew full well what was going on in that alleyway, so there was no need to hurry. In fact, it felt like he had all the time in the world at that moment. He was tempted to sit by and listen to the fight, since it had been a while...the cruel sound of violence wasn't something bone got to hear all the time...not when his employer planned things out so well.

Just as Markus was starting to get into it...the sounds stopped. The struggles, the grunts...it went quite. He stood there for Andrew extra seconds before walking around the corner... and laughing at what he witnessed.

The two Ken he had sent were beaten. Raul standing over their crumpled forms after what must have been an extensive fight. Few people could take on two opponents at once and pull through, and yet there Raul was...

"Well, you're just determined to make this an interesting job, aren't you?"

This tome, it would be Markus that raised his fists, shifting his balance form one foot to anothe, remaining light on his feet as his turn for combat came around.

Raul stood over the broken, unconscious forms of his two assailants, their bodies twisted and mangled into pretzel shapes that would even make the most perversely psychotic wrestlers turn green with nausea. Raul wasn't one to attempt and justify to himself the damage he had to do to a person but this time... he felt it was necessary. They simply didn't stop coming... She could break their arms and they'd keep punching... He crushed their knees and they still came at him, crawling! It was like pain and suffering were concepts they were immune too... potentially even the detection of damage was beyond their grasp! It was like American undead had seeped their way into Japanese reality... but with all the common-sense and combat discipline of well-trained veterans. Had Raul not been as well-trained as he had been... It would've been him on the ground... If he hadn't gone as far as he had... he would've been a paraplegic... if he was lucky. Even still, they stared at him, their eyes deathly focused, still struggling against their own contorted shapes in order to close the few yards of distance between them...

Disgusting...

Raul turned his gaze away, sickened by the sight of these unnatural foes... soft noises escaped from their shattered jaws and broken teeth, as if they had intended speak but without the means! with only vocal-cords and a tongue they tried to command Raul to stay... And he would only walk right past, more than content to let the local police patrols to find them...

Except the former gangster wouldn't make his escape so easily fore as soon as he made a break for the Alley's entrance, a very familiar drug-selling niño stepped in to block his path... his eyes flicking down towards the defeated men... then back up at Raul himself!

Raul's clothing was ruffled, ripped and torn in places, scuffs running all up and down his legs and upon the toes of his boot. His jacket (and mainly his shirt) were cut, sliced, thin lines of red running parallel within the severed fabric as if to indicate attacks with knives... though where those weapons could now be... the boy could not tell. A few trickles of blood ran down the corners of Raul's lips, light bruises resting upon his cheekbones, a deeper one across his jaw. Raul's yellow eyes cut through the black that separated him and Markus, visibly angry at the sight of the laughing dealer, almost as if he knew who those two men belonged too... and what he did to them. His chest rose and fell heavily, a sign of exertion, his darker-toned flesh ashine with a thin layer of perspiration.

"A real man does not send others to complete his job, niño." Raul chided sightly breathlessly, his lips curling into a smile, his eyes glinting fiercely as he shifted back into a defensive combat stance. "And that is your second mistake tonight..."

Markus wasn't sure what he was more suprised by; the fact Raul had managed to beat two roided out goons that had attacked him, or the fact that the gang bangers he had injected with the S.M.I.L.E drug were still trying to fight the man that had mangled their bodies. They hadn't registered a single ounce pain, their body had yet to go into shock. Truly an amazing drug.

Still, despite the condition of his grunts, they had left their marks on Raul. The marks of battle were all over him, his cut chest rising and falling steadily. Fatigue was starting to grip his muscles, but the Spanish speaking man seemed to still have some gas in the tank. His yellow eyed gaze made the blood in Markus's veins boil in excitement! No more wailing on school kids and drugged up losers! An actual fighter to test his metal against.

Markus couldn't help but give Raul a smirk.

"You're a moron if you actually believe in that shit. You said you know this business, right? You should have known this is what happens when you say "no". At least I get to beat your ass into the gutter before putting this fucking needle in tour neck!"

Markus proved his cruelty in one swift movement. He began to approach, bit his grunts were in the way. As quick as a man drawing a knife, he slipped foot inder the shattered form of the smallest grunt, and with a quick growl, found the broken goon towards Raul! Hos body didn't go very high, but provided Markus with the room he needed to throw a high kick, his foot carved the air as it came down! The man had been feinting his stance, using a type of combat that favored his legs!

He was aiming for Raul's neck, looking to inflict a possibly lethal move on his enemy!

Spoiler:

"Oh I do know... And your third mistake is believing you have an advantage, Niño..."

Instantly, Raul regretted his words as Markus came at him quicker than a bullet freshly fired, his first manuver an effective distraction by essentially HURLING one of the broken, twisted men at him! Granted, the body didn't move very far, more a threat to tripping up his legs than doing any real damage but even so... it was a marvel how this kid could HURL a dead-weight human that fast! Luckily, speed was an attribute he had in spades himself, INSTANTLY backing off a good couple steps just as he body landed where he stood with an ugly *THUMP*! His eyes following the body's movement for just a moment, Markus used that moment of distraction, closing the distance even faster than before, WHIRLING around in an utterly monstrous kick... one that had almost completely bypassed Raul's senses!

Again, luck favored the Mexican, his eyes catching Markus' movement out of the corner of his eye JUST in time for him to take another step back, the muddy, dirty sole of his attacker's foot scraping the very near tip of his nose as it CUT through the air like a hot blade. His eyes wide and alert, Raul continued to back further into the tight, confined space of the alley in an effort to put some distance between them!

"Dios mío ... Él es otra cosa..." Raul whispered softly through clenched teeth he quickly flicked his wrist, a small blade popping out from its hiding-space within his jacket-sleeve... one of the the weapons the previous goons had brought with them! flicking the weapon into an inverted grip, Raul shifted his stance to resemble that of a knife-fighter, his arms held out in front of him as if to threaten entanglement and inevitable stabbing!

"No hay juegos, Raúl... Acaba con él rápido...

The attacks were so quick and, in such succession, they could have easily been mistaken for a single offensive move. Like raindrops, the broken body was thrown, the target narrowly avoiding the moaning flash bag, only to nearly lose their head from the demented drug dealers deadly dash! The kick was clean, well trained and fluid! Had Raul taken the blow, there was little doubt he would no longer be standing…possibly not even breathing.

On the other end of the valley, Markus clicked his tongue in disappointment, tapping his shoe as if he were adjusting it.

“Damnit…I knew I should have thrown a third kick…”

The mans boots made a distinct clink noise against the pavement, and even scraped some of the old rock free. His shoes had a steel plate on the front, likely functioning the same way a pair of brass knuckles might work. It was as if Markus wanted Raul to know about his modified shoes…whether it was to inspire panic in the fighter, or simply make the fight a bit fairer, was a mystery that would never be solved.

The burning eyes that watched Raul matched the dull expression on Markus’s face, his eye catching the glint of the blade Raul whipped out of his jacket. It took the baseball capped man a moment to notice the knife was one that belonged to the piles of mush on the floor, leaving him to grin at Raul with a knowing smile.

“You take trophies, pendejo? I didn’t think you had it in you. You seemed so self-righteous in the bar, I never would have guessed you liked that sort of thing.”

Markus wasn’t so stupid as to rush a man with a knife. Tired or not, Raul had taken down two men on S.M.I.L.E, and Markus had no intention becoming like them. He scanned the area discreetly before eyeing a trash can. An advantage of owning the entryway to the alley was he could move around more than Raul, who had his back to the wall. Markus slid to the side, and snagged ahold of a trash bins lid, checking the weight and balance before clinging to the handle tightly. The blade on the knife was a decent size, but if Markus acted quickly, he could easily nullify the threat by getting it stuck in the lid. Problem was getting too close to Raul could give him the advantage. The two watched each other, no longer street thugs or criminals, but actual combatants analyzing their possible actions and the consequences of what they could bring.

Markus decided to test the waters, swiftly kicking the empty trash bin towards his foe, gauging his reaction and ferocity before putting his own legs in a similar situation.

"Oh, dame un descanso." Raul remarked coldly, flatly, his yellow eyes rolling around dismissively within their sockets. "What a callow phrase you use, el jovenzuelo. Trophy...." Raul watched his attacker closely, noting the odd. ghostly *clink* that echoed out through the empty, narrow alley as he lightly tapped the toe of his boot upon it. Steel-toed, huh...? Wonderful. Even less of a margin for error. Brass-knuckles alone were legendary in the crime-world for being able to double a man's striking force, one mighty blow cracking open someone's skull and spilling their brains out upon the pavement like a cracked egg. Add that kind of force to someone's leg, who's roughly 3-4 times stronger than one's arm... and that boot connected with... wouldn't be in tact anymore.

"A professional does not take trophies... Trophies are sentimental nonsense, things to be admired by an old man or a dying man." The Mexican explained, watching as Markus picked up a shield in the form of a trash-lid... Smart animal, this one... Intelligent enough to put a physical wall between him and the knife, something to help him parry an incoming blade instead of trying to catch the attacker's arms. There was a lot more to this boy than met the eye, it would seem... At the very least when it came to his intellect.

"Now, I'm not dying and I'm not old..." Raul murmured, his eyes flicking all up and down Markus' form, as if trying to determine an obvious weakness. SUDDENLY, the former gangster would RUSH down Markus, the man quickly KICKING a trash-bin towards him in response! Even from this angle, Raul could see the thin, metal container contort and warp with the shape of Markus' toe, the empty-ish bin practically flying at Raul's pelvis/thighs with how HARD it was struck! Reacting quickly, the man quickly LEPT off to the side, adjusting himself in mid-air so that his legs RAN along the wall, allowing him to climb JUST high enough for the metal bin to FLY right past him and clatter into the dark! Using his momentum, Raul would SPRING off the wall with a quick... if somewhat sloppy jump, bringing his knife DOWN in a driving angle, aiming to plunge it deep into Markus' throat just above his collar-bone, using his WHOLE body-weight to DRIVE it down deep!

"But I am nobody to underestimate..."

God damn Spanish speaking…What the fuck is he saying?

Markus wouldn’t let the fact that he didn’t speak hardly any Spanish and the irritation that came with it show on his face. He needed to be considerate and think through this fight. Raul now had a lethal weapon, and every excuse to use it. As much as Markus may have wanted to, his employer still needed the man. That was the problem. How could Markus take a man like Raul down without killing him? The S.M.I.L.E he had in his jacket should help the broken bones at least a little bit, but death was still far beyond its limits of recovery. His best guess was to simply break his arms and legs, but that would probably cause a problem in itself. Raul can’t be totally broken, or else he was useless.

Gauging his reaction time would help Markus out in the long run, finding out how quick his foe could throw a punch or launch a kick would give him a rather well-off advantage. He had intended for the garbage can to simply be a distraction, something to get an idea on how Raul ticked. It was a bit of a shock when Raul was the one to make the first move, rushing forward at the ball capped man blocking his exit. Markus’s eyes widened in surprise, his foot already sending the can towards Raul. The can would have slowed the man down, maybe even trip him up, but even Markus had to gape at how quickly Raul absorbed the information and avoided the can. The man jumped into the air, used the wall as a springboard, and was descending down upon Markus like a bird of prey.

Markus was already going through dozens of scenarios, thinking about what he should do to get the most damage out of this attack. Immediately, he knew Raul had made a mistake. It was foolish to jump in the air on a trained opponent, as his trajectory was now set in stone. The second mistake Markus noticed was how hi foe held the knife. Raul looked to be trying to drive the knife into Markus with as much power as possible. Likely, that meant Raul was focusing on a single point. If Markus could discern where that was, he could easily counter the attack, and while the odds were in his favor, if he was wrong it would certainly spell his death. He could also send a kick to try and strike Raul out of the air, but again, that knife would prove to be an issue, and getting tapped under this man in close combat was a mistake waiting to happen.

No, there was a better path opened to him. With that much force, and Raul so far in the air, his landing could only end one of two ways; Either he would land on his feet, and get his momentum would force him down for a split second, or he would tuck and roll to get into a better position to go on the offense. Seeing how this man fought, and the remnants go his own goons, Markus knew Raul would go for the roll. Like a game of chess, he was reading his opponent and focusing on what their next few moves would be, rather than what they attempt at the moment.

His plan in place, Markus avoided Raul’s deep jab with a quick jump backwards, only to quickly shoot forward and throw a deadly kick not where Raul was, but where Markus thought he would be!

Raul's lunge was a savage, brutal thrust at the man who cornered, him, the steel fang RIPPING through the air just as well as it would through the flesh of Markus... The only problem was, however, it did not connect. Just as agile as those thugs... Fighting one of them alone would've strained Raul to the point of discomfort... and the narrow walls around him only served to aid him (slightly) when there were two... but now here he was once more with the boss, one quick enough and smart enough to not hold his ground against a man with a knife... This was going to be long and ugly.... was it not...?

His blade came down HARSHLY, stabbing through the space Markus once inhabited, his momentum carrying the gangster forward as his attacker fell back deftly! His backsteps were fluid and practiced, a warrior's grace embracing his feet as he danced wide of Raul's movements... a little too wide for a mere dodge. Every attack this man had made was with nothing but kicks, the distance between them JUST far enough for a full-force blow to be expelled the moment Raul chose his method of landing. As the ground touched his boots, he had a choice... neither of them exceptionally good... He could try to carry his momentum forward INTO his foe, rolling at him before making another attack... and risk a boot to his head...

OR he could try to absorb the force of his landing in his legs all at once, stalling him for a moment and giving Markus time to reassert himself or counterattack!

Ugh... What a stupid mistake he had made... making it a no-win option for himself...

Dissatisfied with the cards he had, Raul instead pulled a third one out of his sleeve, LOBBED the dagger as if it were a throwing-knife RIGHT at Markus' chest, intending to either put him down... or force him back further even more as Raul rolled into his landing as his foe had predicted! Unfortunately, this quick escape, if it helped him at all, would've cost him his most deadly weapon... and left Markus with both of his own.

One good strike was all the other needed in order to finish this fight once and for all! Despite Markus’s grace and technique, he knew he likely wouldn’t last long if Raul grabbed ahold of him, while the trapped man was already wounded. Cut, bleeding, sweating his energy away, there was only so much Raul could take before his body shut down for him, and Markus was certain one of his kicks would do the trick!

Or perhaps the cap wearing man had another surprise hiding away with that smug attitude of his…

Markus had predicted two possible outcomes, and had acted accordingly. He didn’t realize that there was a third option, one Raul found in his desperation, and one that only the fool hardly would have taken. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and before Markus could finish delivering the supposed coup de grace, Raul hurled his blade towards Markus. His bright red eyes widened in shock as he quickly abandoned his strike and shielded himself with his garbage lid. He backstepped quickly, his foot pushing off harder than he expected as he stumbled a bit, the knife tearing into the lid and puncturing straight through! The hilt of the blade was caught on the thick aluminum, saving Markus from a puncture wound of his own.

He hissed as he regained his footing, glaring at the man with fiery eyes before clicking his tongue in an annoyed manner. He didn’t expect Raul to be so messy, but perhaps his goons had done damage in not only the physical sense, but also a bit of the mental. Reaching around, Markus tugged the blade free from his mangled shield, never looking away from his foe.

“So…what’s your plan now? You just armed the enemy, your tired, and your bleeding…thinks look bleak.”

Now that he had the blade, Markus dropped the trash lid on the ground. He twirled the blade around in his fingers, getting a feel for the weight and shape before having the blade face forward, almost in a jabbing pose. His other hand curled into a fist as he quickly began to move in on Raul

Raul's throwing skills were right on target, BITING into the space it was thrown at... or rather, the object that was put in the way of his target. Markus' reflexes were something to be respected and admired were he not so terrible a creature, the being slowly lowering his shield to reveal the knife had SLICED right through! Even Raul, in all his adrenaline-filled power, did not think he had the ability to pierce metal with metal. Even cheap, thin sheets of aluminum are effective defenses indeed against projectiles of this caliber... Had Markus been just a little bit slower... cold, polished steel might've found a new home in his breast.

Raul let out a low, dissatisfied grunt, his liveliness seeming to drain from him as the fruits of his labor turned up barren, the dark, haunting pursuer arming himself with Raul's lost weapon, resembling a knight of doom among the shadows with blade and board in hand. As the former gangster shakily rose to his full height, his own limbs growing heavy with the exertion of 3 mighty battles burning in his blood, he stared in defiance of the creature standing before him. As Markus mocked and chastised Raul, remarking how unarmed he was now, how he had only lost a tool and given him one, the Mexican warrior simply looked around at his surroundings... and picked up a lone broken bottle, it's neck still smooth and undusted by the grime of the unkempt. It's teeth were as jagged and wild as the drunkard that once held it, it's blood-tinted shade almost seeming to insinuate what it once held:

Life.

"Oh, the same as the old one..." Raul murmured softly, his voice still as smooth and undaunted as the clear, Mexican sky. "But it might hurt a little more, I think..."

Markus advanced on Raul, his blade leveled at his belly, his shield discarded to the ground in a form befitting a monster such as him. His body open, his claws withdrawn, it showed a beast both proud and unconcerned with earthly dangers, a monster so confident in it's strength it need not defend with a shield what it could it with it's teeth. For a moment, Markus had made an error in showing some sort of humanity... a mistake rectified with the discarding of the lid.

Raul too lifted his weapon, his arm slightly outstretched, holding it towards his foe in order to give it's teeth as long a distance as it needed to bite. While the monster approached, weapon drawn in, ready to spring out like a harpoon from it's launcher, Raul's weapon was outstretched, daring Markus to try and cross several inches of jagged spikes to get to him... All the while, the Mexican's free hand felt about around him, looking for a new source of rubble to breath use into... After all, in a world of darkness and trash, one had to be smart in order to survive.