Rumble in the Bronx(Open/Riot)

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The gathering of onlookers started to disperse themselves as the two combatants left their circle of slaughter, coupled with the wreckage of the car littering the area, and instead resumed their looting and violent antics. It seemed their need for chaos remained unsated, even though the local authorities were closing in on the area to quell the riots. Sirens could be heard in the distance over the sound of people shouting and screaming as they went about wrecking havoc on the neighborhood. But these were all background noises, hardly taken in by Thurion, who witnessed his opponent leap into the air and get ready to crash down upon him with all his combined might. Thurion could feel the hatred and power building up inside of Tracyn as he soared through the air down towards him. But there was nowhere for him to run, nor would he; honourable conduct in battle was one of his cornerstones, and fleeing from an admirable opponent was not part of his personal beliefs.

Rather than take on the brunt force of the attack, as it would more than likely crush him completely, Thurion sent multiple currents of Force Push against his target, hoping it would cause Tracyn to slow down his destructive path enough so that Thurion would be able to parry the blow. But rather than stand there like a target, Thurion decided to meet the attack and lept into the air to clash swords with the former Jedi; for he had embraced the Dark Side, and no longer served the good of the innocent. A roar to match Tracyn's own was howled forth by Thurion as he flew through the pouring rain, for he was not afraid. Gathering his strength, he matched the Falling Avalanche of his opponent, and the impact of their lightsabers would be great enough to think of as an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Coci Heavenshield]

@[member="Talon Vosra"] @[member="Kiyala Demont"]


Flying high above the street, Coci looked down on the riot. She could see many beings still in a violent frenzy and she could see Talon and the figure. The incantation that was directed toward Coci, had effected some of the rioters near her when it was cast. Most of them had turned on each other, in an insane trace, the violence brutal however a small group targeted the figure, and are baring down on her position. They are armed with very little, only pieces of metal they picked up from the destruction and Coci had no doubt who ever this figure was would dispatch them with ease. But it might aid Talon.

The opportunity was there and Coci would be ready to take it. She turned the speeder as she had doubled back and waited. Talon, I am located near by when the opportunity arrives I will come. She sent the message telepathically.


((Kiyala I edited my other post to acknowledge the spell ))

 

[Alan]

@[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]

The small force pushes pushed him upwards, and then he fell downwards, only to meet another push. Tracyn's rage only grew with the impeding impacts, and he stared at Thurion as he leapt to meet his blade. The only way to describe to describe the ensuing sound and visage was literally that of an explosion, two warriors meeting head on in a match that seemed only to want to end in bloodshed. Tracyn and Thurion fell, with the two pressed against each other's blade. Tracyn stared at Thurion for a long time, the struggle of the lightsaber not being much for a man who had defeated the Emperor with his bare hands. Tracyn spoke, and spoke with such furious hatred that it seemed to ooze out of his mouth, rather than come out verbally. He gently leaned back, letting Thurion seemingly get the upperhand with the saber lock, and let him press his weight downward on the lock.

"I know the Jedi put a hit on me. And you're going to be the example of why I should be left alone."

Tracyn pivoted on his heel, and deactivated his lightsaber at the same time, making it very hard for Thurion to keep his balance. Tracyn went to sweep out one of Thurion's legs, his right one, to make him fall forward. He stood up, and reactivated his lightsaber, regardless of the outcome. The act was to enrage or frustrate Thurion, but he doubted with Thurion's nature that it would be something that could be so easily accomplished.

 

[Connor Harrison]

Back against the wall, Trasker once again saw the frightening sight of the two Jedi warriors locked in battle, seemingly oblivious to the chaos around them. Their strength and power eclipsed most of what was happening around them - anyone getting involved would be risking their life, and Trasker couldn't afford his lack of knowledge about the mystical Force and Jedi power to put him in at risk once more. He had already unknowingly battled a Jedi, or Sith, whatever she was.

He watched for brief second the two warriors in battle, monsters at war, but didn't stop moving upwards into the Bronx. The situation didn't seem to be calming. He heard sirens but saw no visible signs of the riots being stopped. Only with the lockdown initiated would this have any chance of cooling, but it was too late for that now. They had to last this out. Trasker had to protect anyone he could with the limited resources he had.

Arriving at a small split in pathways leading to different direction into the Bronx, a small man with a large metal bar appeared from a broken doorway, noted the CSF operative armed with blaster and ran at him with a yell.

Trasker mnoved towards him, ducked the obvious incoming swing from the bar and brought up the butt of his blaster into the mans face. The thud of bone impacting with his sidearm was enough to force a yelp of pain from the looter as he fell backwards to the floor. He had no time for these little slugs, there were bigger threats out there he had to stop.

He glanced at his comlink and cursed softly. Still nothing. He pushed the signal button and raised it to his mouth.

"This is Trasker in the Bronx. Urgent request to ALL units in the area to create a perimeter at all ends and use force to maintain the disturbance. Warning; armed fighters and Jedi on scene. Take them down on sight. Repeat. Urgent assistance required to lockdown the Bronx."

He looked both ways and moved into what he suspected was the central area, plenty of units and bars and whatever else to house and more surprises. His jaw throbbed from the kick received minutes before. He rubbed his chest softly, cautious of the implant over-heating in his brain. He was in control, he was aware of the danger, he was ok, for now.

Raising his DC-15s upwards ahead of him, he continued...

@[member="Isis Fontana"] @[member="Christian Slade"] @[member=Serenity] @[member="Steph Zenima"] @[member="Varax Malchor"] @[member="Loran Nera"] @[member="Talon Vosra"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member=Inkblot]

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The sudden deactivation of Tracyn's lightsaber caused Thurion to lose his balance, and the following leg-sweep made him fall to the ground with his forehead hitting the pavement, adding to the already pained head of his. But this was no time for petty headaches, and he was soon back up on his feet again, tossing his robes to his side as they were drenched in rainwater. They would only serve as a distraction and weigh him down, and he would need all his speed and agility to complement his strength if he was to come out of this alive. Re-igniting his lightsaber and allowing it to meet Tracyn's as they strafed around eachother, eyeing eachother down, Thurion felt the need to address his former comrade. "Tracyn, I am not a Jedi! I never was! I left the Order long ago with Asha, and I have taken on another path. Whatever grievance you have with the Jedi doesn't concern me, and I do not wish you any harm. I only wish to stop the madness going on around us!"

Stepping back and deactivating his lightsaber, Thurion gestured to the chaotic onslaught surround the two of them. "Look around you! People are suffering because of what's going on, innocent people - good people! You used to defend them from this sort of thing, to protect them from harm. You took the oath long before I did, Tracyn, and if you are still present within that shell-of-a-man standing before me, I beg of you to end this violence!" Spitting up some blood down onto ground, Thurion looked at Tracyn, searching for some spark of his old self behind the cold and raging visage. "I know you loved Asha with all your heart - I did too; it was impossible not to. She was like a mother to me, and she was your wife. She was that kind of person who inspired people and only sought to aid others. And I'm sorry about what happened to your son, Tracyn, but none of what's going on at this very moment will bring him or Asha back!" Wiping his mouth of the drops of blood, he pleaded one last time. "What about your other son, Kobe? Don't make him lose his father as well." With that he rested his case, and made no signs of preparing for another attack.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Alan]

Tracyns blade deactivated, the steam from the falling rain that lingered on the lightsaber floating away. Tracyn was silhouetted against the Coruscanti lights, his armor glinting in the lights. He was a powerful warrior, among the best the jedi order could muster. He stared at Thurion for what seemed like an eternity, even during the chaos, and then slowly placed the lightsaber on the small of his back, where it was originally.

Tracyn spat his words.

"This isn't some changed man, Thurion. I'm not some great Jedi, I never was. This, was always the inevitable, this was always what was coming somewhere down my rocky road. Asha could have saved me, but you and I know it's too late for anyone to save me. I was born in war. I was molded by fury and fear and conquest. I am Ori'ramikade. I am death incarnate. I am hate incarnated. I am rage. I am Tracyn."

Tracyn moved, but he moved at such a speed that even Thurion may have had a hard time keeping up with him, visually. Teras Kasi was one of the best things that Tracyn could do, and with Tracyn's speed through the force, along with what he knew from years and many battles made it very hard to keep up with him. He roared, and yanked his fist back. His fist alone claimed many lives and destroyed many others, and even defeated some notable opponents. Tracyn went for his face, and aimed to shatter his facial bones, and destroy him. Break him. With all his hate. All his rage. All his anger.

@[member="Thurion Heavenshield"]

 

[Varax Malchor]

Side? Varax was on nobody's side and nobody was on his side. Hell, Varax couldn't remember the last time he knew what side he was on or what it meant to be part of something. Not since he served as a master assassin at the temple of the Flayed Ones had he remembered what it was like to have allies; brothers in arms. Still, the officer had a point. Varax realized that he was starting to act like a common criminal; such wonton destruction was unbecoming of someone of his unsung reputation. He was better than this; the man in black would be ashamed of his actions. He watched the officer make his way through the city below, focusing his audio pickup device as the man spoke into his comm link.

"This is Trasker in the Bronx. Urgent request to ALL units in the area to create a perimeter at all ends and use force to maintain the disturbance. Warning; armed fighters and Jedi on scene. Take them down on sight. Repeat. Urgent assistance required to lockdown the Bronx," he said. Increased police presence wasn't going to solve anything. It was only to lead to escalating violence and horrible PR the next day. At that moment, Varax begrudgingly realized why the director had sent them down here. These officers didn't need their weapons or their martial skill; they needed the brains and experience that only comes from someone who has been in the most hostile of situations. "Trasker," he paused briefly. "Too many bodies leaves too much room for error. Unless you want to be responsible for a bunch of dead kids on the news tomorrow, I suggest you call off your men," Varax recommended. "East building, number 53237, floor 56, room A14. I'll be waiting."

It was funny how things worked out. A few minutes ago he was ready to kill this man, but taking things personal was not in his nature; at least, it wasn't supposed to be. The Flayed Ones taught him to be cold, disciplined, and objective. Years without the reaffirmation of his brothers had left him forgetting the lessons he had been taught. He'd been changing since he was forced into secret service for the G.I.A.; evolving. As much as he tried to hold onto who he was before getting involved with the agency, he saw more and more of that person slip away. Whether that made him weaker or stronger, Varax did not know.

@[member="Ben Trasker"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The studded glove of a burly punk smacked into Trasker's arm he raised to block the attack. Kicking in with his training, Trasker used his momentum to swing around the punk and send him into a wall, knocking him out cold. A small groan left the man's mouth as he slumped.

Two more steps forward on the damp ground was all he made before the crackling voice above came through once more of the one intercepting his frequency.

"Trasker."

It seemed like every low-life was making a play in the Bronx tonight; slicers, warriors, looters, vigilantes. When did it ever let up? The voice continued.

"...for error. Unless you want to be responsible for a bunch of dead kids on the news tomorrow, I suggest you call off your men. East building, number 53237, floor 56, room A14. I'll be waiting."

Then nothing. He was about to reply, but there was no point. The voice had gone. Thinking about it, the vigilante had a point. What WAS more CSF operatives on sight going to achieve? More fire-power, more death, more fear. There was nothing no-one could do until the Bronx locked down again once the main power came back. Trasker was more than enough for the CSF to help contain the dangers in the sector. Besides, maybe he was amongst fellow peace keepers, he couldn't be sure.

Slowly he raised his wrist. "All units, this is Trasker. Stand down. Repeat, stay away from the Bronx. Situation in hand. Repeat, the situation is in hand. Request all nearby units remain on standby. Out."

Well, time waited for no man. Trasker turned a dial on his wrist mounted comlink and spoke the building number he had been provided. A small beep signalled the order - but it was followed by a small spark.

Trasker frowned and repeated himself. Nothing. A few scuffles with a Jedi and looters and his equipment stops working. Great. This is why he hated technology. He looked up in frustration used his knowledge of Coruscant to work out which way was East from where he had come in via speeder. Directly back on himself. Back through the passageway where he had encountered "her".

He raised his blaster once more and picked up the pace heading back up the sector to find Building 53237 and the creature behind the voice that had followed him since arriving.

--------------------------------

It was thankfully only minutes, a few more scuffles and harassment by a drunk Bith that kept him from his destination. Directed by one of those he managed to apprehend in the act of looting, Trasker came to Building 53237. It was one of the taller Bronx buildings, but one probably filled with who knows what. He came to one of the double doors leading in and reached up for his torch...to find only his hair.

Sith-spit! His helmet. Lost in the speeder blast and discarded in his fight with "her". He now really was operating in the dark with only exterior light to guide him. He saw the flight of stairs to his left, graffiti adorned with some anti-Republic message.

Trasker scoffed to himself. ""Great."

55 flights to go. He decided to walk rather than run.

@[member="Varax Malchor"]@[member="Isis Fontana"]

 

[Inkblot]

@[member="Steph Zenima"]
Steph would come to see the tall man in his dark coat and hat, contrasted by the pale white mask on his face, splatted with the symmetrical shape of black and grey.
Ink wound up for another swing, it was only a feint, however as he pulled back the pipe with one hand, seemingly aiming at Steph's jawline.

However, the true attack came from his free hand, he flicked it quickly, arming himself in his hidden hold-out Lady Finger blaster, military edition, set to stun.
He tried to aim at her tummy, closest of her parts to the gun right now and gave out a single shot that would flash between them in the darkness of the night. Single shot was all the gun could muster in such short time span, the fire rate of the small gun left plenty to desire.

 

[Darth Torment]

Menace was no coward but she was smart enough to know that sometimes it was better to flee than to stay and fight even when not injured, which right now she was and losing too much blood from her leg... if this Tras guy were to follow the blood trail he would find her now held up in an abandoned building.

This building was somehow radiating with the dark side of the force and was strong, as she remained there she chuckled and tore her pants and looked at the injury while deactivating the energies of the force to save her own energy, when she was a jedi she would've allowed her own life to have been taken to save another, but now she would be more willing to kill to save a life.

Funny how times fly and change with the alteration of ones fate, her mind echoing with the nights dim and her own vicious cycle repeating itself, but now she had no where to go, no where to hide... she was on a world that wanted her dead with no way out and injured, this was bad and would only get worse.

Closing her eyes to focus on her own body to shut down the blood flow, she focused on the injury and slowed her heart rate with breathing techniques, slowing it down was the best option to take but now she needed to do more, what she needed was a medic but as it was this planet was an enemy so she dared not go to a clinic or hospital.

As she focused she listened to the whispers of the dark side and chuckled as she slowly felt it guiding her, taking more breathes she started to slow the blood flow from her leg, it was long and exhausting but after 40 minutes it slowed enough for her to work on shutting down.. after a while longer, that felt like forever, she shut down the bleeding and opened her eyes and found it worked... now she needed to find a splint since the slug went straight through her leg, funny how it is she is a sith but still falls victim to slugs.

As she looks around she finds some old furniture and breaks it down and makes a splint and places it over her leg and under her boot.. rising she looks out the window to the chaos of the nights echoes and smirks and then walks down the stairs of the building and out the back of it to find a way out, keeping to the shadows she makes sure to hide herself within them.

 

[Steph Zenima]

You know, that mask does nothing to help her drug induced state. I'm like half certain that she thinks she's gone to hell right now. Like, this girl probably thinks you're the space devil, clobbering her with a pipe.

Now given that she had asked for a pipe, and that she was expecting a pipe she didn't flinch. This probably saved her from getting stunned about one minute into the confrontation. The very moment his other hand moved, she twisted, it was only a slight twist and it was very nearly not quick enough. The stun blast squeezed past her tiny frame and her evening would still continue.

Although now she was offended.

Blasters? To a pipe fight? Oh my goodness, wasn't that just the seventh cardinal sin of life. It just wasn't her way of life, there was no art to a blaster, there was no satisfaction. Being up close, getting the blood on your hands was the way to do it and it was the way that she was going to do it.

The woman leaned back slightly, as if disgusted but given the look of outrage that was painted across her face I'd be guessing the motive was different. This was a method of attack. With a fair amount of force the woman shot forward, aiming to rocket her meteor head into the man's chest.

Always open with a good headbutt.

@[member="Inkblot"]

 

[Inkblot]

@[member="Steph Zenima"]
The man gave out a grunt as he was headbutted, the impact absorbed into his chest.
Steph could feel that hitting his jacket and chest was something akin to hitting a brick covered in chain mail. The man had hard bones, unusually so for a human, that did not help with the fact that he was wearing coat and jacket from Armour-Ani line of light armor. Steph's impact would be absorbed by the hard surface of the armor mesh coat, saving the man from too much impact of her attack as well as saving Steph from getting her head too bruised from it.

The momentum of it all still carried as the man slightly bent in half. He quickly rose his hands together, clinging the pipe next to the pistol as he brought them down, aiming for Steph with a grunt.
"Hurgh"
He tried to deliver a good two-handed strike, augmented with the pipe and pistol-whip, into her back or lower back to knock her down.

 

[Kiyala Demont`]

Luckily for Kiyala the insanity though only targeted for one person hit a group of people but instead of attacking her they simply went insane as the power suggested. Their minds literally being torn apart by the hellish screams and cold yet fiery embrace of the dark side. Kiyala drank in the energy as she felt the young female still fleeing as she perched over Talon her arm unfreezing faster thanks to her's suits insulation. "Good. So who is she and where can I find her?" Kiyala said before finishing off her drain of those crazed fiends now feeling a sense of power surging through her by keeping herself in check. The dark side was a slippery route and as much as she wanted to find out where the Blond Jedi Master was; she also much rather torture then kill this knight and go find his little friend. Oh! The possibilities . . . She mused to herself as she waited for an answer from the man.

@[member="Talon Vosra"]
@[member="Coci Sinopi"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

....28.....29.....

Trasker was fit, but even this took his breath away. The same old staircase, occasionally stepping over a drunk, or some empty slug cases, the odd blood splatter. The usual for an abandoned building.

His blaster was holstered now on this thigh. There was no room for gunfire in the stairwells.

He came to floor 30 and stopped to catch a minute. He stepped out into the hall, more blood along the floor.

Sirens and floodlights touched on the window, smashed in with splinters crunching under his boots. He looked out over the Bronx below and had a fantastic view point over the carnage - fires, smoke, crowds of people.

The diegetic noise around him was ghostly silent but there was some noises that even made his spine tingle. Hopefully it was some small creature hiding away from the chaos.

26 floors to go. He still wasn't in a rush.

He tapped his fingers on the window frame, taking in the beauty of Coruscant and the beast of the Bronx.

 

[Chupa La'Roi]

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"] @[member="Thurion Heavenshield"] @[member="Ben Trasker"]

It was like standing on a hill above an open field, seeing children run around with sticks. Some pretending to use blasters, some pretending to be Jedi or Sith. And then, far away, a horde of parents descending on the group. Or were they? Looking as a rather bulky man passed him on the stairs, Chupa waited carefully, disguised as a drunk, as the man got a few floors up. Then, the warrior threw off the cloth covering his armor and blades, quickly descending the stairs until he reached the bottom.

He stepped out into chaos. Pure, enjoyable chaos. The Arkanian licked his lips, and then screamed, drawing his vibro-Ryyk blades. A few stragglers attempted to pass by him, but they didn't live long, for Chupa's blade twirled in their direction, cutting them down. Wiping the blood off on their still warm bodies, Chupa reached down and dipped his fingers into some of it pooling around them, and wiped red bloody streaks under his eyes. Howling into the air, he shook his head around wildly, letting his rage build, the Force seeping into his body. Feeling like nothing could stop him, he leapt into the crowds, slicing and dicing his way through like a true madman. Soon, anyone nearby would be able to hear the screaming. Or at least, a change in WHY they were screaming.

He didn't care, though. He was in the land of his enemies. And as he cut down civilians left and right, not caring about age or gender, all he screamed was,

"THIS IS FOR MY SHIP, YOU PITIFUL INSECTS! THE HOUSE PASSES JUDGMENT UPON THEE!"

 

[Talon Vosra]

@[member="Kiyala Demont"]

"What will you get by going after her? what can it bring you?" He asked.

Vengence and hate were cold lonely roads that she was going to be on for a long time if she didn't let it go.

"If you find her you'll fight and your armor will help you but you'll still be left searching for a purpose. Vengence won't give you what you really want."

 

[Steph Zenima]

Wait.

What was this madness?! The impact was lacklustre at the best, it was the single-most unsatisfying headbutt of her life. Like, in the past, even if her opponents had been armoured the crack of her own skull usually provided some form of pleasure but this was muted, it was dull, it was....very upsetting.

Then that double whammy got her in the back.

That was more like it! Don't get me wrong, Steph Zenima didn't get her rocks off to pain, I mean, the monster of a woman could barely feel pain, she was more numb than a fistful of anaesthetics on a Tuesday. I mean, if she could feel, I think that Steph would have found that she was very much broken and that the simple act of walking alone would have filled her with crippling pain. Thank goodness for self-medication.

Besides, sobriety is for losers.

The strike batted her to the ground but this was a warm-up. You're playing with the Black Knight. Everything is but a scratch. I mean, this is one pinata that just won't quit. Her response to this assault was cannibalistic at best. She went for his right knee, little rotten jagged teeth bared, it was like jaws meets the ghetto.

@[member="Inkblot"]

 

[Varax Malchor]

Varax waited in the apartment. Walking around the length of the small living area, he saw nothing but filth, grime, and other disgusting unmentionables. By the sound of it, the boy that had pulled the blaster on him earlier had left and he was glad for it. While he didn't anticipate he'd buck up the courage to try anything, the faint worry of a blaster to the back of the head was better left out of mind. Varax looked around briefly before undoing his mask as he walked back out to the balcony. Even though the air was stale with blood and battle, he wanted to take a breath of fresh air. He looked down at his mask as he held it in his hands. It wasn't really a mask, was it? This had become his face. The last thing his targets could hope to see. The only thing anyone was allowed to see and live to tell the tale. For the most part, he was supposed to stay out of sight, to never affirm contact with anyone; friendly or otherwise. But this situation required communication and coordination, a rare opportunity in his field of work.

If only his contact would hurry the hell up.

@[member="Ben Trasker"]

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

The Demon before him had forsaken everything in life, it seemed, and only death remained. They were both tortured souls, tormented by the loss of Asha, yet only one of them had turned to darkness. He had no time to ponder on why that was, why Tracyn had embraced the Dark Side and he hadn't, for his opponent was now coming at him with such great speed and ferocity that he had trouble discerning him from the air itself. Vague shapes resembling Tracyn could be made out thundering towards him, and Thurion would not be so foolish as to remain in the path of destruction which was sure to follow. Stepping off to the side with aid from the Force, Thurion managed to just miss being shattered by the other's charge, and where he had stood there now was debris and a considerable hole through the wall. Re-igniting his lightsaber, his focus on his opponent ceased as he made notice of the building beginning to collapse. "Tracyn, get out of there! The whole building is coming down!" Grabbing hold of the mandalorian's armour, he gave him a push to the side in hopes that it would cause Ordo to move out of the way. Unable to see whether he succeeded or not, Thurion lept away from the falling two-story building to stand at a safe distance. Hopefully, there were no people inside the building, as he could not sense anybody.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Inkblot]

@[member="Steph Zenima"]
The man grunted as she went down but sprang up soon again in surprise attack to bite at his knee. She would find his pants hardened but not as thick or hard as his jacket and coat, they were more like thicker jeans type of material. Should she get through that, she would find his flesh tasteless and dull with a strong smell of death sticks emanating from beneath his clothes.
And if she bit into his kneecap, she might have even chipped a tooth or two, his bones were harder than what she would have expected from a human.

He tried to reach down to grab her head by the sides, at the same time attempting to drive that knee she tried to bit into her face with a kick.
She wanted a piece of him so badly? He would give it to her.