The XP: Chapter 23

Volnado began to rage. “You’re insects! Playing your little greedy games, trying to manipulate the loot tables and player economies!. I was always the best of us!” He began to grow significantly larger until he was three times the size of a normal player character.

Stygian looked past Volnado to Torcano who was still stuck to the wall. He then looked back to Trart. “He’s not mad at you.” Stygian said out loud.

Trart looked back at Stygian. “What?”

Stygian Threw a knife that Volnado stuck his hand out to block, the knife embedded itself in his hand. And Volnado instantly moved a less than half his normal speed. Stygian used the time to talk to Tart. “Volnado doesn’t hate you, he hates his brother and us. We need him so mad he won’t be able to think straight.” Stygian explained.

Trart looked over at Torcano still trapped on the wall. “You want me to try and free Torcano?” He asked.

Stygian nodded. “Ten or less bombs should take care of the thing holding him to the wall, and you’ll both be resurrected pretty quickly.” He explained.

Trart nodded. “So we free Torcano, then what?” He asked.

The poison of Crippled Time wore off Volnado. He and Trart Charged each other, Volnado batted Tart of out of the way like he was swatting a fly. He made a bee line for Stygian, bearing down on him, Stygian threw up his shield to protect himself from Volnado’s now giant, pounding fists. Impacting like a car being dropped on him, suddenly his shield cracked, breaking in half on the next blow.

Stygian stood tall and tossed the wasted shield aside. No sword or shield. Just his old black and blue armor. Volnado Turned to gloat to the assembled spectators but came chest to barrels of both Torcano’s pistols, from the look on his face it was pretty much the last thing he expected. Torcano pulled both triggers and for the first time Volnado’s health dropped significantly. “How!” Volnado gasped.

Torcano cocked his guns. “It’s been a while since you played a gunslinger brother. They have an ability called soul fire. Takes my base damage and multiplies it by the number of times I’ve died in an area or dungeon.” Normally the death rules keep it limited to double damage.”  He unloaded the last five bullets from each of his pistols.  “Apparently, the insects figured out a way around that limitation.” He reloaded his guns as Volnado got back to his feet.

When was back on his feet, Torcano had his hand out. “Let’s end this fight. I’m a dick and I’m sorry. I need to learn to share and treat you with you re –“ Volnado crushed Torcano's head in his giant hand. Then dropped his lifeless body to the ground. The move so infuriated Bob that she stopped her song of mana regeneration and unleashed a thunderous wave of force that blew past Stygian and hit Volnado like a hundred trucks knocking him back against the far wall of the Arena.

Once Tart had freed Torcano from his prison, he had quickly begun placing stacks of five mines while Volnado was distracted by his brother and the others. In the few minutes of freedom that he had he had placed almost five thousand mines.  Not paying attention to anything but placing as quickly as possible he had pretty much painted himself into a corner.

Volnado landed right in the middle of the giant half circle of death Trart had been laying out. Both of them had a split second of realization before the mines went off. Volnado looked at Trart with resigned annoyance. “Really?” was all he was able to say before they were enveloped in the expanding fire of Trart’s rainbow of death. The Arena went nuts as the explosions continued for almost ninety seconds.

As the mines exploded line after line the arena announcement board and all the screens outside the Area Brightly exclaimed that The End of the World Club had won.

University of Console Heroics: Chapter 23

Ten thirty am on the Wednesday of finals week. The Rho Sigma Gamma house has been throwing its nightly ‘end of finals’ week party since the Saturday. Lacey was frozen out in the front yard. She had seen the kind of girls that went to these parties, and heard what the guys said about them in the days after. She had promised herself she would NEVER step foot near the house, much less go inside voluntarily, and if she hadn’t made a promise to Faith she never would have. She walked up the front steps and covered her mouth and nose with her hand as she passed a pledge who was covered in vomit and asleep in a bush near the front door.

The inside of the house wasn’t much better. There were students and brothers passed out in what seemed like every corner of every room. Every piece of furniture seemed to have at least one person drunkenly passed out on it. She found clay passed out on the floor in one of the bedrooms the brothers had converted to a room for beer pong. His mouth was wide open and he was snoring around a ping pong ball. She carefully made her way around the room, avoiding trash and piles of empty beer cans to reach Clay.

The first time she lightly shook his shoulder and limited herself to a whispered. “Wake up Clay.”. Which got her nothing. She shook him more violently the second time.

He snored around the ball again in response. She slapped him lightly on the cheek. His eyes opened in a flash. He spit the ping pong ball out as he sat up, looking around the room, everything filtering through his hang over. “Wha?” He looked at Lacey in confusion and rubbed his eyes. ‘What are you doing here?” He asked her.

Lacy rolled up the sleeves of her cardigan. “ I’m checking up on your sorry butt.” She explained. She tried to get Clay up on his feet but he just folded himself over with his head between his knees.

“I think I’ma puke.” He warned.

Lacey rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Ok lets get you into the bathroom.” She said putting everything she had in getting Clay to his feet.

In the hallway they ran into Porter who was coming out of his own room. He saw Lacey and immediately dove under Clay’s free arm. “Here let me help you.” He offered as he took most of Clay’s weight.

Lacey struggled to give him a polite smile from under Clay’s other arm. “Thanks.” She offered. The pair of them dragged Clay to the bathroom and got him to the toilet. Lacey had just turned away from him before he started emptying his stomach into the toilet. She stepped out into the hall and Porter followed her, closing the bathroom door behind them. “He’s a mess.” She gestured to Clay.

Porter nodded. “A five day bender will do that.” He explained.

Lacey was shocked. “You let him stay drunk for a week!” She almost shouted.

Porter nodded and waved his hand in a motion for her to quiet down.  “I’m not his mother, I did what I could but he is hurting pretty bad right now. Personally I would rather have sloppy drunken Clay instead of angry smash things Clay.” He explained.

Lacey nodded at this explanation. Inside the bathroom Clay sat hard against the wall and sighed heavily. “I feel way better now.” They heard him say.

Lacey checked her watch and then looked at Porter. “Do you know if he has any finals today?” She asked.

Porter shrugged his shoulders and knocked on the bathroom door. “Clay buddy, you got any finals today?” He asked.

There was the sound of frantic movement from inside the bathroom. “Oh my god is it finals week?” They heard him say as he got up off the floor and stumbling out of the bathroom when he tripped over his own two feet, hit the opposite wall and then the floor. Lacy and Porter look down at him on the floor. “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.” Clay burst into laughter at his own joke.

Lacey checked her watch. “I’ll get us some coffee. You try and figure out when and where his finals might be.” She instructed. Porter nodded and watched her walk down the hall and into the kitchen.

Forty minutes later Porter had gotten Clay to a bench outside the building his psychology final was in. Clay looks worse for wear, he is more hung over than he has ever been in his life. Lacey walked up with a bottle of water and a tiny travel bottle of pain pills. She handed them to Clay. “Here, these should help. Your final starts in fifteen minutes.” She said pointing at the building behind the bench.

Clay looked up at her. “I don’t wanna be rude by why all the assistance today? I thought I was to be shunned?” he asked.

Lacey shook her head. “I‘m here because you haven’t answered your phone in a week, I’m here because Faith and I quit the sorority, but mostly I’m here because Faith was worried if she showed up you wouldn’t talk to her.” She wasn’t trying to make him feel bad but he did look worse than he had thirty seconds ago.

“Who’s got two thumbs and feels like an asshole?” he pointed his thumbs at himself. “This guy.” He gave a halfhearted laugh.

Lacey suppressed a smile. “You should go and get a good seat for your final.”

Clay nodded and headed toward the building. He stopped and turned back around.  “Lacey!” he called after her. She turned back toward the building. “Thanks, for everything.” He said. She nodded and turned back to the student union. Clay went inside to take his final.

Shades of Justice: Chapter 27

The elevator door opened and Dante carefully stepped over the two unconscious soldiers he had defeated earlier. He groped blindingly for the nearest wall and fond it The light poured through Dante’s closed eyes. it Lit up his eyelid, like cloth over a flashlight. He ran his hands along the wall of the hallway until he reached the end of the hallway. “Great, just great. Twenty five hundred years trapped in a shard of fractal darkness and when I finally find a way out I get trapped in some dumb human stuck inside some dirt hole outer rim mining market.” He clumsily felt along the wall looking for a door or a sign of any kind. He forgot to pay attention to his feet though, tripped over debris on the floor. He hit the ground hard. He sighed heavily. “I am an immortal being of pure light and energy, and I have been bested by legs…frickin’ fantastic.” The glasses in his block lit up and began to vibrate. He reached down and pulled them out and felt them in his hands. “Oooof course this kid is a shade, because that’s the kind of  luck I have.” He put the glasses on. “Hello?” He asked,

Sonya’s voice came through loud and clear. “What the hell is your problem Dante! We just got enough power back to find you, let alone bring you back and all because you got a wild hair up your butt to visit an asteroid out beyond Jupiter! ARE YOU INSANE!” She raged.

Dante shrugged his shoulders as he pulled himself up off the floor. “ I don’t maybe!” he replied putting the shades on.  Sonya growled form the other end of the call. The glasses lit up and Dante disappeared from the hallway.

Sonya and the other shades were waiting in this command center. Dante appeared as the teleport beam faded away. The light from his eyes was being almost completely held back by the shades, only a little light was escaping from either side of the glasses. Sonya charged up to him ready to tear him a new one when she noticed the light. She silently stumbled  over the words she was going to say as the question decided to come out first. “What’s going on with your eyes?” She asked.

Dantle turned away real quick. “Nothing, just uh, side effect of gas in the Asteroid market. I guess.” Dante explained, grimacing as he realized how stupid that sounded.

Sonya looked incredibly skeptical. “There was some sort of gas in the asteroid marketplace, that turned, your eyes, into flashlights?” She tried to repeat the guess without laughing or exploding.

Dante nodded still facing away from the others. “Yup, darn those crazy aliens!” His fake anger didn’t fool anyone.

Sonya got close to him. “Dante turn around we can figure this out together.” She started.

Dante turned around and took off the shades. “Ok look this is, awkward. I’m not actually Dante, I’m just hitching a ride in his body for a bit till I find a place I can safely stay.” He saw Lumarion’s busted light wall behind the others. “Like that wavelength chamber right there!” He said as he streamed out of Dante as a giant beam of light right into the light wall. Once he had transferred over completely Dante held his hands up to his eyes. “ahhhh That sucked!” He fell to his knees and Sonya knelt down next to him.

The light wall was lit up again but this time by the new intruder. Gordon and the others were more than a little pissed. “I don’t know what you are but you need to get the hell out of that wall.” He growled.

The wall flickered. “Would you relax? I just got here. I’ve been in prison for almost three centuries, I don’t know what your problem is yet but I’m almost positive I can help.” The light explained.

“Help yourself maybe, you didn’t even ask if I would carry you.” Dante accused as he got to his feet.

The light wall was twinkling but said nothing for a moment, then finally. “That was my bad, sorry. I had one shot to get free and I took it.” From the looks of things here you’re missing a Shimmeron. I think I can help you find it.” The light explained.

Sonya stepped forward. “You’re skipping a few steps, to even begin to trust anything you say or do, we need to know who you are, what you are,  where you came from, and why you possessed our friend.” She demanded.

The light flickered in silence for a moment again, and then dove right into answering questions. “I’m a Shimmeron, you can call me Spark. I needed a physical force to pull me the last little bit of the way out of the shard of fractal darkness I had been imprisoned in. Dante happened to show up at the right time.” Spark explained.

Dantle glared at the wall. “And by that, you mean you made a deal with the witness to lead me to you.” He accused.

The like wall showed brighter reds and purples clearly proud of itself. “Time and the universe are impossibly complicated systems, if you want them to work in your favor you need to finesse them a little bit.” Spark explained.

Dante stepped ahead of the others, putting himself between them and the light wall. “Don’t get to comfortable in there, you’re going to be looking for a new home once we bring Lumarion back.” He growled.

The light wall twinkled quickly “Lumarion! You lost Lumarion?!” Spark shouted. 

Blood and Profit: Chapter 50

The remnants of breakfast had long since gone cold on the dining room table. Mew had become too curious about the state of the game board and wandered over to assess the situation. It took her less than thirty seconds to realize that neither her father nor her brother had improved much. “You are both STILL terrible at this game.” She chided them as she finished the last of her toast.

Father and son shot up from the table to defend the interstellar gridlock they had maneuvered themselves into. “Hey! This is why we stopped playing against you!” Eamon protested.

Mew pulled a chair over and sat down. “Because I’m good at the game and you two are pretty spectacularly not?” She said with a smile.

Eamon stuck his tongue out. Mew returned the gestured. Their father sat on his side of the table. “I swear you two are going to be six until the day you die. I don’t understand how your mother put up with it.” He said with a warm smile.

Mew grabbed the box and started pulling out the pieces for her own faction. “If you remember, mom was always smart enough to encourage us to follow the paths we were both interested in.” She answered as she dug through the box.

Eamon nodded. “We didn’t exactly spend enough time around each other to get on each others nerves. What are you doing, We’re like fifteen turns into the game.” He protested.

Mew pointed to an area of unsettled planets. “I’m going to start on these three planets. You guys have had nearly one and a half games worth of buildup and I promise to take it easy on you so I’ll give you another seven turns before I try to win.” She smiled at him as she started placing her pieces.

Her father pointed at his side of the board. “Why not just take over my team?” He offered.

Mew shook her head. “It’s been forever since we played this game, I missed this. I know mom’s not here so its not exactly the same but we should have been making memories like this a long time ago.” She admitted. Eamon and their father nodded. The men went back to studying their board positions and resources. Mew rolled the traits and quirks dice. The red dice came up with a cartoon piece of meat on a bone, the trait showed a DNA strand. “See it’s going to be even easier for you guy to deal with me, my race is carnivorous and we’re genetic purists so I’m boned on alliances. You guys ready?” She asked.

Her father was looking at her with gaze that stared more into the past than at her, and his smile was sad. “Every now and then you remind me so much of your mother.” He admitted. Mew felt the urge to get up suddenly and hug her father. He held her tightly and they hugged for a long time. When the separated she could see that he had begun to cry.

Eamon spoke up as his father wiped the tears away from his face. “Dad you need to tell her.” He pushed.

Mew looked instantly concerned. “Tell me what?” She asked. Her father fidgeted with his cards for a moment. Mew’s mind was starting to run away with her. “Daddy tell me what?” She asked again.

Her father put his cards on the table. “Your brother caught me up on the situation last night after we put you to bed, I know what’s coming and as much as I want to go with you, I can’t bring myself to leave your mother. I’ve loved her every day for forty seven years and we swore we’d be right next to each other for eternity, I have every intention of keeping that promise.” He explained.

Lidarion: Chapter 22

There’s a special moment, happens when you’ve stayed up through a time you would normally sleep and witness either the rising or the setting of the sun. the world goes through a transitional period that most people don’t pay attention to, the energy of everything seems to change slightly.

Trent was no stranger to losing sleep. It was almost always because his mind overpowered the needs of his body and ground him down with responsibility or worry. As sun rose over the tops of the Lidarion skyline Trent realized that this was the first time he had ever been unable to sleep because he was too happy. Alex had found the married couple an inn and they had spent the last few days alone, catching each other up on everything that had only ever trusted each other with since the beginning. This last night however he found himself distracted, his mind was trying to follow the path of options it could put together to deal with the inevitable failure to find the sigils. But then the candle on the far side of the room flickered and drew his attention for a moment. He saw Brooke fast asleep in their bed and all the worry was banished from his mind. Before he realized it he had sat beside the bed the entire night, at times watching her sleep, and other times just being grateful that the path of his life had brought him to this moment.

His stomach reminded him that since he was awake it was time to eat and so he quietly snuck out of the room to make his way to Alex’s place. The streets were devoid of everyone except the lamp extinguishers, moving in pairs down the street putting out the lamps that had been lit only hours before.

Alex was waiting for things to boil so she could start preparing breakfasts, when she heard a knock at the door. One of her assistants came into the kitchen to let her know that Trent was out in the seating area waiting to speak with her. She passed off the cooking and went out to greet her friend. “And where have you been the last three days?” She asked.

Alex’s entrance caught Trent by surprise and he jumped at the sound of her voice. “I couldn’t sleep and figured that as long as I was awake I might as well get breakfast for Brooke.” He explained.

Alex nodded and walked behind the bar to get a package wrapped in green cloth. “That’s nice of you. And I’m glad you stopped by because I have a gift for you.” She said.

He smiled “Presents?” held out his hands “gimmie!” he said with a smile.

She walked over and gave him the green lump of cloth. He undid the knot in the fabric and revealed a plain looking door knob. “Um…thanks?” He said unimpressed.

Alex picked up the door knob. “Yeah just listen dummy, this door knob is enchanted. Touch it to any flat surface and it will create a doorway that opens to the backdoor of the restaurant.” She touched the doorknob to the nearest wall and a blue box appeared on the wall and she was able to open it like a door. He could hear the back door of the restaurant open and close as she closed the blue line door and pull the knob away from the wall. “Jesus Alex how much did that thing cost?” He asked.

Alex handed him the door knob. “Not as much as it would hurt to lose any one of you, so I bought you an escape route.” She said with all seriousness.

The XP: Chapter 22

Game designers spend hundreds of hours designing bosses, the dungeons they wait in and the monsters that fill them. These challenges are giant, intricate puzzles, each with its own solution that can be discovered, practiced, and perfected.

Volnado was not a video game boss. He was a Game Master that had taken off his invulnerable armor and sacrificed his killing blade. Without his armor he had a finite amount of health which meant he could be killed, all the End of the World Club had to do was figure out how to get the job done. Luckily the End of the World Club had two huge advantages that Volnado had not considered. The first was that Volnado was a human, with human response times and a human attention span, the second was that he was really, REALLY pissed off and not very good at multi-tasking.  This was all the club needed to make a run at something no group of players had ever successfully done before. And the entire player base was watching them do it.

Their plan was simple enough on paper. Bob was playing Font of Wisdom which was refreshing Blackout’s mana pool allowing him to intertwine holy shell which was a spell that made him and anyone within three feet invulnerable to all forms of damage for five seconds. In that five second window he stopped casting the shell and would fire off a mass resurrect which would instantly revive and heal anyone on his team that had died. Without Bob’s song he could do each of these spells once before he ran out of mana.

Before the fight Stygian used three potions. Titan’s stance which made him immune to any game effect or damage that caused knock back. So he could take a hit and stay exactly where he was standing. If he died he died then and there. His second potion was blood syphon which allowed him to pick a player that agreed to give up their hit points to him, but any damage that he took would come from the other player’s life pool as long as they were alive. The third potion was Reapers Downfall which kept the other two potions in effect for a time limit of an hour no matter how many times he died.

Torcano Was stuck to the wall but had already consented to the Blood Syphon, so the first time Volnado killed Stygan he was actually killing Torcano, which gave Stygian a tiny window to hit Volnado again before Volnado hit Stygian a second time, killing him for a second or two before the mass resurrection him bringing him back to life potions and all. He was infuriating Volnado who was bound and determined to make him stay down.

Trart didn’t have any potions. All he had was a hundred thousand bombs. And every time he attached one or two stacks of ten to Volnado, he got killed by a massive blow from Volnado but the mass resurrection brought him back, he’d watch the bombs explode and he and Stygian continued their annoying dance of distraction and destruction.

High above the arena The Matriarch and Sezario watched the fight from their box. “They do know this is just a game, don’t they?” Sezario asked.

The Matriarch was watching the fight closer than he was. “You should know as well as anyone that games often represent an opportunity to settle feuds and conflicts without real physical violence.” She answered without taking her eyes off the fight below.

Sezario flinched as Volnado tossed Trart nearly the distance of the Arena, Tart Hit the arena wall and died before he was instantly resurrected and ran back into the fight. “Yeah but I don’t see these guys burying the hatchet so much as they are just digging a bigger trench.” He said as the fight raged on.

Volnado landed a massive kick straight to Stygian’s chest. He didn’t move an inch and slumped to the ground dead. He stepped over Stygian’s dead body and made his way toward Bob and Blackout. With a triumphant howl Volnado takes his first swing at Blackout, no quite processing that his fist flew straight through him as if Blackout were a Ghost. Volnado growled in anger and swung again. Before he could hit Blackout a mine attached to the back of his head. Volnado turned around just in time to catch Tart in mid leap with another mine which Trart slapped to Volnado’s face. Trart got his legs in-between him and Volnado and Pushes off hard trying to break Volnado’s grip. The mines on Volnado’s head go off launching him into the air. He lets go of Trart, Volnado flies back over Blackout and Bob, Tart flew in the other direction and landed hard.

Blackout finishes the resurrection wave and Stygian leapt through the air onto Volnado’s Chest swinging his massive sword as fast as he could before Volnado hit him once, and then twice killing him. He shoved Stygian’s body to the side and got to his feet. Another resurrection wave and Stygian grabed Volnado’s wrist. Volnado turned and mercilessly beat the life out of Stygian, blinded by his frustration and rage he wasted time killing Stygian three times in a row punching him to death.

He grabbed Stygian’s sword and stood up. The resurrection wave goes off bringing Stygian back to life. Volnado’s hands grew red hot. “Stygian you need new gear, this garbage you have now is so two expansions ago.” He said as the sword shattered into multiple pieces as his hands returned to their normal color. Stygian kicked up into Volnado’s crotch with both feet sending him flying back over Blackout and Bob. Volnado landed almost at Tart’s feet. Trart droped five stacks of ten bombs on Volnado’s body. The explosion litup the Arena and Trart took a moment to grandstand by the flame as the spectators lost their minds.

The crowd noise died instantly as Volnado walked out of the fire. “Are you kids done screwing around yet? Because I’m ready to fight!” Volnado yelled.

Tart turned to face Volnado. Stygian joined him shoulder to shoulder. “Got any other brilliant ideas?” Stygian asked.

Trart shook his head.

University of Console Heroics: Chapter 22

Thompson looked himself over in the mirror. He was alone, uncomfortable, moving his body trying to remember how he ever felt comfortable in a gi. He pulled his belt apart for the third time and tied it back up again. Rolled his shoulders trying to find the room for them to sit naturally, everything about this felt awkward and un-natural. He checked the wall clock and tried to figure out if he had enough time to run before Cynthia caught him.

The knock at the door answered that question for him. She entered the room cautiously until she saw him full dressed, she closed the door behind her and walked over to stand behind him. He looked at her through the mirror, she smiled at him and made a few slight adjustments to his top and belt, instantly causing everything to sit right again. She ran her hands down his shoulders. “You look good.” She complimented him as she stepped back.

He turned around to face her. “Well I feel terrible.” He admitted.

She nodded, her smile lost a bit of its luster. “If it means anything I really, really appreciate this. You could have turned me down.” She said taking a step away from him.

He followed her and grabbed her wrist, pulling her close. There was no mirror between them now. “I could never turn you down.’ He assured her.

Their kiss was short but relaxed them both. She lowered away from him reluctantly. “You ready?” She asked.

Thompson shook his head in the negative. “No. But let’s do it any way.” They exited the green room hand in hand.

The Gym had been built for basketball games. There were bleachers on the walls that could be extended out with a crank mechanism giving spectators a place to sit and watch the games. Today the hoops were up and the Combat studies post grads were giving their semester presentations to their advisers. Foster had grabbed himself a spot in the front row. Sanders along with his father and professor Bannister entered the gym. Foster and Sanders waved at each other, Foster stood up to greet them when they got close.

“Foster, this is my dad.” Sanders said as Foster and William shook hands.

“And this is Professor Bannister.” Foster shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you both. Would you care to join me?” Foster asked, gesturing to the largely empty front row. The trio nodded and they took their seats. “So what’s your interest in the graduate showcase?” He asked.

William and Professor Bannister looked at each other, paused for a moment and then Professor Bannister shrugged. “Starting to look for new talent.” He admitted.

Foster nodded. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.” He offered.

Thompson and Cynthia entered the gym and walked to the mat in the center of the room. Thomson moved to his side of the mat white Cynthia faced the audience of about twenty people. “Thank you all for coming to my graduate showcase. My name is Cynthia, and this is my showcase.” She moves to her side of the mat as the audience claps.

The referee for the match preps Cynthia and Thompson for their fight. They face each other and bow, square off and each drop into their own stances. The fight Thompson had with Foster was short, brutal, and ugly. There was no finesse, neither of them were interested in showing off. Each had and end goal and no interest in dragging things out. This presentation was a different situation entirely. Thompson and Cynthia had a long history of sparing with each other but they had never gone full out against each other in a competitive exhibition. Thomson had no desire to show Cynthia up and fully expected to lose. Cynthia was looking to show off. She was chaining together combinations of moves that was forcing Thompson to legitimately pay attention in order to stay on his feet. She knew he favored solid stances and was deliberately attacking his base forcing him to stay mobile and never allowing him to set into a position he could find immovable footing. Thompson realized quickly that while this was an exhibition match, she was fighting to win. The Referee called point after point in her favor. The exhibition was best of three first to five point matches. And while he had every intention of making Cynthia look good, the tiny ember of fire in his chest had different plans. As more and more of his concentration was drawn into the actual fight he could feel the fire gathering power in his chest. In what felt like the blink of an eye he realized he had Cynthia in a choke hold which she quickly turned against him, hip throwing him off the mat. He was back on his feet before he had consciously processed the throw. He charged Cynthia and the ref stepped in his way only to catch and explosive blue flaming foot to the chest knocking him to the ground out cold. Foster took a step off the bench but Cynthia held her hand out to stop him, waved at the unconscious ref and moved around the mat keeping Thompson’s flaming blue eyes on her as Foster and Sanders dragged the referee away from the fight.

Thompson charged Cynthia in a blinding blue streak of screaming flame. She sidestepped and took his feet out from under him, catching him in the small of the back with her elbow and drove him into the ground hard enough to know the wind out of his lungs and dissipate the fire everywhere except his eyes. The pair got to their feet slowly. There was nothing beautiful about the next few blows, no artistry, no craft. Thompson started off by bringing the full force of his elbow to Cynthia’s jaw, He carried the shot through and when he righted himself she was still on her feet. Her body awash in emerald green flame. She wiggled her jaw back and forth knowing it was going to be a new world of pain when the adrenaline wore off but not caring in the moment. The Blue fire took his body over again as Thompson was on guard for everything, except the lightning fast kick to the nuts that brought him to his knees and put stars in his eyes. He never saw the uppercut that took him off his knees. As he few through the air the blue flame separated from him, keeping his body shape for a second before the fire dissipated into thin air. When he opened his eyes again, they were clear.

Cynthia was standing on the far side of the mat facing away from him. The green flame rising up her body in calm, even waves. Thompson got to his knees first, shook off the upper cut and shot to the nuts and then got to his feet. Cynthia turned around to face him and saw that he had chosen a more fluid stance. She charges him and he uses her own style against her, tripping her up, and catching her as she rotates to strike back at him, He grabs her wrist as she tries to strike him, they hit the mat together and he uses his free hand to tap out. Her flame disappears. Both of them are bruised, bloody and going to be in a lot of pain very soon. None of which stops Thompson from kissing Cynthia before be breaks away with a smile. “You win.” He congratulates her as they pick each other off the map to the applause of the crowd.