Hazily you return to conciousness, though blinding whiteness of the room... well blinding you. Eventually your eyes adjust to the light, and you are able to look around yourself. There are six other people in the room with you. There's nothing else in the room however, except for a door and... is that a black feather in the wall? This seems somewhat familiar... Someone stands up and grabs the note, reading it silently at first, before, trembling, reads it out loud for the rest of you.
"Good morning, dears, and welcome to the tournament. I would like to thank you for coming. Introductions aside, you're all here to get something done.
If you notice, there is but one door out of this room. It is locked. You'll also notice that, other than yourselves and the clothing you are wearing, there is nothing else in the room.
And yet, there are seventeen keys in that room. The problem? When mixed with certain acids, they will disintegrate within two hours. I do believe you all ate... exactly one hour ago, yes.
You've each also been injected with a poison. A poison which relies on your adrenaline, which will dilute the poison. However, if you do nothing, you will die. At the end of this, is the antidote. How far will you go to save your own life?
The fun begins now."
You don't know why, but this does seem oddly familiar. You stand up, and check yourself. You have your clothes. That's... about it. Your usual weapons are gone. As it would, it appears so are the weapons of everyone else. You try the door, to no luck. It... looks like you'll need to get that key to get out of here...

Wise leaned against one of the walls, tapping his shoulder with his opposite hand. This was quite the situation.

He ran the message through his head a few times, making sense of what it had said, and wincing at what it hinted at. We . . . ate the keys? It was almost humorous to him. He thought he would have felt something hard enough to consider odd. Maybe he thought it was a bone. Oh well, it didn't seem to matter now. Certain acids... He immediately knew that it meant stomache acids. So they had to get one of the keys without it touching stomache acids. Well, that threw "digesting it" out the window. It also ruled out throwing it up, because that would bring the stomache acids to the key.

"So that means..."

Wise shuddered at the implications. He pushed the issue away for a moment. One step at a time.

And then there was the matter with the poison. He knew his way around poisons, but this one confused him. Adrenaline? He had never heard of a poison that was subdued by adrenaline. But, again, it didn't seem to matter now. If the poison was diluted by adrenaline, the only way to dilute it would be excercise, or getting the shit scared out of you. Wise preferred the former.

A Man with grey pants and a light blue button up T-shirt was leaning against one of the walls of the room. He had icy blue hair and eyes to match. After kicking off the wall he moved a little more into the light of the room and looked over towards Wise.

"....Anybody have a clue just how we ended up in this mess?"

" Maybe it was something someone said." said another figure, stepping not so dramatically out of the shadows.
He was a tall young man, with red and black spiked hair, and from his back were two tiny dragon wings(he's back!) and was wearing a long black coat.
"Now lets go over what we know, which is a short list. First of all, we know someone did this to us. Now, the only reason I could think of WHY is because this person has a sick sense of humor and enjoys watching us squirm like worms on open ground."
The young man began pasing, deep in thought.
"If we also assume that it's true we ate the keys and they'll dissovle in 2 hours, why so much time? Once again, to watch us squirm and panic, the end result being for us to turn on each other and cut the key out of the stomach."
The man turned to face the others.
" I've dealt with twisted mothers like this before, and I'm no slouch when itcomes to being devious, but think of this for a second. If the Purpose of this was to make us squirm, why stop there? it would be much more fun to make you're worms kill another man, wrack them with guilt, then reveal that there had been another solution all along that didn't involve killing anyone, thus probably scarring at least a few for life."
The man took a seat. " Just thought I should point that out."

Blinding lights, the muffled voices of the others. The strange young man had no idea what was happening, but didn't really care for that matter. Collecting himself, he scooted to the corner of the room. A rather queer amnesiac, the young man continues to look at the others behind eyes filled with slight paranoia.

He of course, is a lean cut young man, the muscles of his body defined quiet smoothly along the course of his being. Aside from sloppy brown hair that mats his head, and a jade left eye complimented by a sapphire right help define the young man's face.

"So...who are you people?", the gravelly voice inquires solemnly.

"Ferrus ((Fair-us)) Igami...." The young man stated towards the other ones inquiry to his name. He wore a cold look on his face that depicted a look of both annoyance and to some degree acceptance of what he was about to be forced to do.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news.....but one of us has to die if we're going to get out of this room......so who wants to volunteer?" Ferrus stated with a light and sarcastic chuckle. In truth he didn't want to kill anyone, but one does not know just how far he is willing to go until he is put in the right situation and for Ferrus, this was that time.

"Wise."

Wise pushed off the wall and looked around, there were a few more people who hadn't either joined the conversation, or just weren't concious.

He turned his attention to the one who commented that they dealt with people like this before.

"You say that there may be another way out of this besides slaughtering one of us? Well, do you have any idea what it might be?"

He rummaged through his person, seeing if the key may be somewhere on him, although he HIGHLY doubted it.

"Oh," he said as he continued looking. "About the poison. If it's nullified by adrenaline, then all we really need to do is excercise, or some straining physical activity."

"Won't work.....think about it....whatever brought us here injected us for a reason. All our adrenaline will do is slow down the poison. As far as curing it.......all we're doing is delaying the inevitable." Ferrus muttered almost to himself as a cold icy breath escaped his nostrals for a moment.

"Madd. Ferren Maddus" said Madd, raising an eyebrow at Ferrus's fatalistic comments. " Thats a cheery turn of phrase you have there friend.If you dont mind me saying, you seem to be a little to willing to sacrifice someone."
Turning to Wise , he said. "And no, at the moment, no ideas, but with a name like that i'd think you would." he said in a feeble attempt at humor.
" Maybe we should all take another really good look around the room, walls, floors, the works." He went to work, checking the walls by tapping on them, moving quickly to builtd up his adrenaline a bit. " someone should take another look at that feather too, seems weird to me."
He didn't watnt to say it, but it was better than not saying it. " and if We cant find anything.... well, I have and idea that will get three of us out of here at least."

As Madd checked the walls, he saw that they were sturdy. No cracks. Completely white. The feather was a feather. Black. Possibly from a bird. Ew AIDS. But the feather was just a feather, the walls, floors, and roof were all the sturdiest damn thing you've ever seen. Looks like the only exit really was that locked door out of here.

Despite all the rummaging and talk surrounding him, one of the figures was only just coming to complete consciousness, having been crouching low with his legs, eyes bowed down and closed towards the floor. He showed no expression in this odd state, the large mop of hazelnut hair hiding his face entirely as it hung low around his head. From the crouched position, it was hard to make out his actual height and body stature, he was in fact somewhere near six foot of an average build, nothing special at first looks.

His hand twitched slightly as the consciousness returned, he was fully awake now and lifted his head slightly, peering through his thin framed glasses with squinting eyes. The white was blinding for several moments, only occupied by a few figures who were just a dark blur. As he began to adjust, his hand, now finished with twitching moved slowly to the gun holster he had been carrying. It was a small shock that the weapon was not their anymore, nor was its holster. A quick swipe along the metal studded belt he was wearing also told him everything else was gone; gadgets, gizmos, bits n’ pieces, all gone. All that was left were his clothes, the grey baggy pants he’d been wearing before and the green shirt with a black sleeveless jacket over the top.

His vision had adjusted by the time his discoveries were finished, he could see other figures speaking, and as they did all he had heard in his unconsciousness was replaying in his mind. Poisons, adrenaline, antidote, keys, acids. His mind was going backwards now, an odd sensations but one he was accustom to. He’d normally hurl at such a feeling, but years of experience stopped this reaction. A shame though, it would have benefited him.

With nothing to do at the instant, he remained crouched, gathering his bearings with sly glances either side, guessing at his position by considering how close he was to the opposite walls. Near the middle of the room, but not quite at the centre of attention, some distance lay between him and the figures. The word ‘killing’ had come up. Odd that people had come to such a quick solution.

Octavian stroked his long gray goatee and checked to see if his hat was nearbye, found that it wasn't, shrugged on the inside. He sat cross-egged and pulled his lab coat around him tightly. He eyed all the other people in the room and decided that he was probably the oldest, ripping the name-tag off his coat and tossing it to the side. Madd as seemed to be the most active speaker of the hand-me-down group of youngsters, and so Octavian chose to address him.

"Little fellow in the jacket, red hair, what am I doing here?" Octavian used in a gruff commanding tone, placing his fists on his hips and giving Madd a- hopefully- stern look that ended up making the skinny old man with the luxurious goatee seem mad.

A vacant stare kept quiet, both eyes scanning the other people softly to see how much of a possible threat they could be. "The old man would be easy...but who again am I?", the voice within the mind inquired. Small warm sensations flooded down his forehead, touching two fingers to the sensation, the young man found his head was bleeding. From where is the blood coming?, the voice piped in.

Softly the youth runs his hand through his forehead and near the border of his hair in smooth sweeping movements until a sharp, dull pain exploded. A barely audible curse was emitted, followed by the two eyes looking at the companions again, none of them looked like the medical type.

Tearing the left sleeve from his shirt and folding it, the youth forms a temporary headband in an attempt to stop the bleeding. A brief stare was given to the older man again, his gruff question to the other seeming...inappropriate somehow.

".....Perhaps if we wait long enough your body will kill you off for us...." Ferrus remarked towards the young man's recent 'head explosion'. At this point he was growing more and more curious about this boy. After all the fights had yet to begin and he was already suffering from a head wound.

Wise walked across the room, slapping Ferrus on the back of the head as he muttered, "Be nice." He came to the door, looking up and down, not sure of what it was made of. Once again, he was about to attepmt something he knew wouldn't work, but it would get his adreniline pumping, at least.

He walked to the other side of the room, turned, and rushed the door, slamming his full body weight against it.

Madd's eye twitched. He'd been called a lot of things, but small wasn't one of them. By the time he'd hit 15 he was already taller than most adults. Now he was taller than almost ALL normal adults. For gosh sakes, he was almost 8 freaking feet tall!

" I really couldn't answer that, friend." he said, only the slightest edge to his voice. "Maybe we all did something to piss someone off."
He turned around, then said to everyone, '" Are we all sure that vomiting wont work?"
He really didn't want to have to resort to his backup plan. It was fair but...

Well...
Kinda fair...

The youth laughed to himself after seeing the man being slapped in the back of the head for his comment. Stretches were made as the young man stood up, swiftly turning back around and kicking the wall, the slightly audible ffwip of the baggy pants entering the air as the tip of the young man's large toe to his foot hit the wall to no effect.

Sighing gently, the youth sits back down, this time cross legged. The head wound gave no effort to cease, though the pain was slowly becoming more and more insignificant.
A hand coming up to his mouth to stifle a painful cough, his voice clearing out slightly.

The eyes re-opened as the man slammed himself into the solid looking door. "That won't work...unless you're trying to dislocate your shoulder.", was all that was chimed in before the youth laid his head back against the wall and stared vacantly at the ceiling.

Octavian noticed the tall red head's eye twitched and saw how it agitated him, and, after a moment of intense inner-turmoil, decided it was funny.

"Piss someone off? Hah, I do that every day, after all, I'm a doctor!" He laughed at his inside joke that no one else should get, spittle flying from his mouth as his grotesque yellow, jagged teeth reared their ugly heads, and his liver spots became all the more noticeable. Suddenly, Octavian became serious, "But I doubt an angry lawyer could pull this off- even if i have dealt with bigger things."

Octavian pulled himself up (And everyone noticed he's only four foot two) and walked over to the note which he assumed was on the floor, picked it up and read what he thought was on it. Octavian spit and threw the note to the floor again, and looked around, suddenly beginning to size up his "roommates", and looked at Madd again, deciding he was the easiest to irk since he'd already got somewhere.

"Adrenaline? Are you sure that's possible for you, young'n? Looks like you haven't even hit puberty yet." He said with a much less comical, now serious look. He was acting slightly different now, a bit more serious. This old man is getting edgy. Really, the old man had nothing against Lunar, he was just tall.

He deserved pain. (Octavian's a little height-ist)

"Careful old man......Madd might step on you if you keep pissing him off." Ferrus chuckled before using his ability over ice to form a small sheet of ice beneath him. If push came to shove he'd make sure that he wouldn't need much push to knock one of them to the ground.

The faint crackling of the ice forming beneath the strange man awoke the youth from his almost hypnotic stare. A sudden flash of light before his eyes, a memory perhaps? He was staring up at an attractive woman, maybe in her early 20's, could this be his mother? Such a special boy you are, your father would be proud~, were the spoken words in that sunlit fantasy followed by the giggling of a small child.

Reality seemed to distort, the room changing to a frozen tundra, the snowstorm blowing every violently to stop the pair. His companion was the same young woman suspected to be his mother, this time wearing a large cloak over her curvaceous body. Before she turned and smiled in-between visible clouds of breath, tragedy struck. The ice beneath her crumbled under her weight catching her off guard. Her thrashing and screams fell on deaf ears, as he stood and watched stoically into the distance.

A sudden surge, and he was back in the room with the others. A pain surged, causing him to grasp his head in pain before yelling out, "Who..WHO AM I?!".

It was interesting to sit and watch, he had often sat for days on a single park bench, observing the world as it went by till someone asked him to move. It would have been interesting to watch the conflicting arguments which had already sprung up about the room, personality and views clashing almost instantly. To make things more amusing, one of the occupants in the hazelnut hair’s vicinity was out of his mind, a sudden scream so quickly after a loud thud upon a door. Hopeless and vain but the result was in sight, what the viewer wanted was defiantly coming soon.

It was this quick revelation in the crouching mans head which made him so sure of what to do, his eyes had swiftly looked towards a preferred target, one that seem to need very little pushing to tip over the edge. Then the show would begin, and he could only wonder as to whether he’d survive to the encore.

Slouching slightly as he lifted his body weight from the ground with bent legs, a slight twitch of his nose, but the green eyes never left the face of the ice blue haired one, Ferrus. The circumstances were odd, but a small alliance seemed to be in place between the two jeering at the short elder, perhaps it was a natural instinct for primitives. Respect your elders or they’ll give you a thump was always the lesson. Grig had not found it easy to forget.

“Look at you,” He spoke slowly, leaving his words hanging in the air as he tried to pierce past the icy blue eyes, as if staring straight into the opposing mans mind with a dagger pulled and ready to plunge, “On the verge of satisfaction. We all know you want to kill someone, what’s holding you back?” He’d approached a few steps but strategically kept this distance, previous dealings with ice users had taught him to avoid the possibility of a quick freeze. His stance also became less slouched as he held his head high, his legs spread slightly, though arms still hung at his side. His job was to be a catalyst for now, and he intended to perform and complete the task.

Ferrus turned towards Grig with the eyes so cold they could send a chill down even the most vicious demons spine. In fact he was sure he had done that before on one occasion but that didn't matter at this point, he had just met his first and hopefully the last target he would need to 'take care of' in this little game.

"I'm a fighter.....not a murderer......we wait until it becomes absolutely necessary to take a life."

((Also Dark did your character just draw a dagger? I'm asking because we all had our weapons taken from us even if they were concealed.))

((Metaphor.))

“Oh? But you feel so free to joke and laugh about death.” A thin smile was sliding across the mans face as he stared back into the eyes, returning the stare with a simple gaze, light, free and almost uncaring. He drew his words out as before, only a certain mockery twined them, “Hardly someone who considers death to be a last resort. Or perhaps you just can’t take a life..?”

With his hazel bangs falling freely over his forehead, he look carefully towards the others, taking his eyes off the icy stare to observe the actions of others. His mind also on the person having what seemed a mental breakdown only a short space behind. Drawing attention to himself was not a huge concern for Grig, he could handle it if need be, his only worry was that someone would become a peace maker and ruin the course which they were supposed to take. His mind was flickering towards the man who’d run into the door, he had seemed humble, probably would prefer if they kept together.

But the possibilities fizzed out of his mind as he returned once more to the pressure point, exerting more upon it. He wondered how quickly Ferrus would snap and attack.

“So, you got the guts to try or you gonna roll over?”

"Like I said......I'm going to wait...." Ferrus stated rather calmly as he lowered his hands into his pockets and scooted off the back end of the small sheet of ice he had made earlier. Starting fights in situations such as this one usually guaranteed you to become the outcast for the rest of the 'game' and for Ferrus that would be rather problematic.

"Unless of course you'd like to try your luck?" Ferrus almost laughed at this last remark. He had always had a nasty habbit of pissing people off and today would be no exception, atleast not for Grig.

Octavian pointed a gnarled finger at Ferrus.

"You, sonny, are getting a little to cocky for my taste. Shut your face, okay?" He said, turning his nose at the surprisingly hot tempered Ice master, and showed Grig some kind of distant approval, barely noticeable, just enough to let Grid know he was approved- or something like that. Octavian was a little... eccentric. Octavian bent over and pulled off his sandals, exposing his bear feet to the ice, wiggling his toes. This was just refreshing, wasn't it?

The question echoes slightly within the chasms of the young man's consciousness, before a new figure appears, as if taken straight from an old 1920's movie, the flickering of the white on black drowning out all other sources of distraction. The being smiles softly, its penetrating eyes focused right on him. The question is who you are dear boy...it's what you are., the booming voice said within his mind.

Perhaps some...self realization is in order, I could show you what you're capable of, but then again..you already know. After all, you seem to have quite the nasty bruise on your head., the creature's words sound, though the mouth was moving and no sound was uttered. Lightly the figure took shape, it was the same woman from the visions.

Gently she kneels before the youth, dressed in what could be described only as a ceremonial kimono. There there...i'll tend to your wounds., a gentle kiss, warm yet displaced. Some of the pain begins to subside from his wound, though the bleeding continues. "Who..am I?", "...What...are you?", were the only questions asked. A bright smile from the woman, That is a question best saved for another time, but until then, try to stay alive, child., were her departing words before fading into nothing.

As the young man came to, he noticed the bickering of the other tenants in the room before staring forward vacantly at the door, his ears picking up the faintest noises, if any. "Perhaps we'll all die in here, hm. Who..or what was that? A hallucination?", he muttered.

After rubbing the soreness from his shoulder, Wise returned his attention to his room mates, who's tempers were apparently already getting thin.

"Gentlemen, please! The last thing we need right now is to start going at eachothers throats! We need to think of a way to get out of here before we really turn on eachother. Speaking of which."

He turned his attention to Grig. "I heard what you said. Stop trying to provoke him to attacking someone, or you'll be answering to me."

He turned to Ferrus and continued talking. "Just don't listen to him, I can tell he has a few screws loose."

And after that, he turned and passed Octavian, muttering a small apology, and finally ending up in front of the boy with the head wound. He kneeled down next to him and asked, "Hey, how you feeling, kid?"

The man's question had fallen on the ears, and those two eyes snapped to him. "How...am...I...feeling?". "I don't even remember who I am, or what i'm doing in here.", he said. A faint smile was cracked before his head was laid back against the wall, the eyes still focused on the man who had inquired about him. The words that the phantasm...or hallucination, whichever, had captured his thoughts. Could it be possible there's something else to me...Just like that man with his ice?.

A brief sigh was let out and his attention returned to the man who seemed overly pacifistic and polite. What was his reason for acting the way he was?

The mans refusal to attack was slowing the job, a waste of time that could be better used. Grig’s overview of the ice user quickly changed, he had expected someone like him to attack when given the opportunity, or jeered into attacking. Instead he refused, a coward perhaps.

But as usual, his eager spirit was intervened by surrounding factors, he sensed an air of approval from the other one opposing this ‘Ferrus’. This was vaguely expected although not a definite as the masked ones reaction. The Peacemaker. Grig hid his reaction as he was rebuked, his stare kept on Ferrus without a slight weakness in it.

The left arm of the man rose to his side, the hand open in a claw like way, he held it there for a moment as he considered what he was doing. The provocation was not going to work if the target was unwilling to attack, a miscalculation that he was prepared to solve. There was also the factor of those standing around the room, he already knew that the old man was likely to side with his against Ferrus, however the peace lover was not. Of course, Grig was not afraid to leave a lasting impression on people, but watching his own back was never fun. If he pissed off someone, it was likely to remain that way till either of them were dead.

The hazelnut bangs were swiped from his gaze with his right hand and held to the side as he glanced behind towards the amnesiac, he was a good distraction and one that was likely to keep ’Wise’ busy. Or at least slow his reaction down. That meant it was two on two as long as people kept to their guns. The factor of the other one in the room had not come into consideration yet, an anomaly that he could ignore for now.

“Well then. If you can’t make the first move, you can regret it.” The left arm which had been raised shuddered slowly as a substance began to encase it, a green mist which reached outwards before caving in on itself over and over, a constant circular motion from the tip of his shoulder straight down to the end of his fingers. It expanded as rapidly as it appeared, forming a transparent claw. The said arm pulled back suddenly as Grig prepared the rest of his body, his weight shifted backwards, and then as if off a spring board, forward, throwing his arm forward in a lunging gesture. His legs far apart to stop himself going forwards.

He was of course a distance away from Ferrus, his target, the punching movement was only there to propelled the arm of energy towards the blue haired opposition, the claw outstretched now, its form sharpened and solid. The once gaseous substance was now a rocklike, and prepared to grab and squeeze Ferrus.

(('Cause no one else was gonna))

Octavian lowered himself to all fours, (He ignored Wise, since he did have a few screws loose and didn't really care for masked figures- they weren't all that mysterious anyways.) and from his position in front of Ferrus. The word "move" is all you can use here, because the way he changed position was so complex and happened so quickly you couldn't really tell what it was. Octavian left behind a kind of blue mist that dissipated within an instant, and ended up on the ceiling, ready and waiting to drop down on Ferrus after he dodged, or to knock someone off Grig's back.

Wise couldn't help but laugh at the young man's response. "Yeah, I guess my question was a bit pointless, wasn't it? So how does your head feel-"

At that time he had glanced back at the group behind him, and that's when he saw the movement.

"NO!" he shouted as he turned, his left hand sparking with energy. His hand flew up towards Octavian, and a bolt of purple lightning leapt out, arcing towards the man on the ceiling.

Ferrus only grinned at the somewhat blatent attack being launched towards him. He quickly assumed a very relaxed posture and right as the claw was growing closer to him, he snapped his fingers and a wall of solid ice shot up from the floor infront of him to block the attack or atleast give him enough time to scoot to his right and out of the way of the attack.

((There edited))

As the battling begin in the large room, a bestial and yet somehow benevolent voice rang within the youth's head. Well well, what have we here now. My, what a pitiful pup you are, the visage of a man clad in flowing robs declared behind an ever present shadow around his upper body. Vague shapes could be seen at the top of his head, though they were indiscernible through the void around him. Light golden eyes watched the youth, the eyes somehow slightly slitted much like that of a great cat.

I know you, albeit not in the fashion a father is supposed to know his son, the voice chimed. Perhaps we have yet to see your potential, but maybe I can tweak you a little, my young pup, a wicked smile that penetrated even the darkness appeared, the ivory fangs appearing like a vampire's. A hand with nails, if that's what they were, grabbed his head and began to squeeze. Wake up little pup, the dream is not yet over, were the final words before his "Father" began to laugh, squeezing ever tightly.

Pain exploding from his head wound, the youth does exactly what the vision wanted, he clamps his hands down on his ears to drown the laughter. Now now...that won't do, the words echoed beyond the laughter, another hand coming down and seemingly slicing the ears clean off the sides of his head. There was no blood, there was only screaming.

Now now...i'm almost finished, don't squirm or this'll hurt more than you can believe, Yōkai child., The hand releases it's hold before pulling upwards. A fiery tingling feeling erupts more powerfully than the pain from before, two fox-like ears appear upon the top of his head. A brief haze of deafness followed by the sudden explosion of sound.

Behind the youth, the shadow laughed. Maybe next time...if there's shadows, I can show you how to REALLY have fun, but until then...goodbye, SON. were the only departing words.

Exhausted, he puts his head up against the wall, tears rolling down his face from the strange colored eyes. Though still conscious, he was not in the way of paying attention to the fight.

The opened hand clashed heavily with the ice, sending chunks of the structure backwards, the claw clenched downwards a tore into the substance, ripping it down into only half of its former self, the process sending out a small wave of white droplets, the ice having melted due to the heat given off by the energy. The user had clenched his fist as the energy came to rest on the former sheet of ice, his eyes looking past it as he focused on Ferrus, his eyes turning to slits as he prepared to continue his assault.

Whilst concentrating on his attack, Grig was also aware of the movements behind him, though he could not see but only rely on his hearing. It seemed he was correct about the man siding with him, but slightly wrong about the reaction speed of the peacemaker. However, it was not a problem just yet as Grig was not being attacked. Instead he put his mind onto the assault ahead, preparing his arm to control the energy he had already propelled.

With a twist of his fist, the extension of energy had changed from a clenched claw into a more gaseous form, just like it had been when it had first appeared. With a follow up of an opened hand and circular flick of his wrist, Grig transformed the energy fully into its gaseous form, now resembling fire more then a mist. Its temperature also increased to coincide with this form change and spread around the ice defence towards Ferrus still. The mock flames became a long lick which shot forward as if from a flame thrower, intent on engulfing its target and burning him to a crisp.

Octavian frowned at Wise as the Lightning hit him, coursed through his body, and then into the ceiling, and you'd probably notice the blue mist spring up around him for a second. Octavian tensed, the mist reared its nautical head again, and Oct was behind Wise.

"Wrong move there, sonny." Octavian muttered in a sharp whisper that lasted barely a second, and jabbed a hand at Wise' back. Guess what? More blue mist.

((The mist lasts for half a second, no mroe, before it dissipates. In case you're wondering.))

Ferrus watched as the flames shot towards him before sidestepping the attack and rocketing straight towards Grig with his right arm dragging along behind him. Suddenly this arm, all the way from the tip of his hand to the end of his elbow, was coated in ice until it formed a large yet light weight spike around his arm as Ferrus continued the charge towards Grig.

The tears had dried finally, the young man's new instincts slowly taking over. Now now little pup, it's time to play with your new friends...Show daddy what you can do, the sinister voice chimed. Slowly the youth stood, his head lolling forward slightly as his equilibrium adjusted itself to the two new ears sitting upon his head, which continued to burn ever vigorously alongside the head wound. Those vacant eyes finally settled upon the one with the blue mist, and its ever strange movements.

A faint scent flooded his nostrils, copper...the smell of spilt blood, his blood. Instinct took over as his eye slit ever so much like that of a cat. Good boy...now, awaken yourself, his mother's voice exclaimed. Sudden pain erupted as his tail-bone extended outwards from his spine like a spear, tearing a hole in the back of his pants just wide enough for it to fit through comfortably as orange fur came forth, exaggerating the actual mass of it. Finally, A small white mass formed near the tip, giving it a strange paintbrush-like appearance.

Now, our darling Yōkai, it's time to prove your worth to the clan the phantasms chimed inside his head. Swiftly he places both hands behind him onto the floor before kicking forward with both legs towards the masked man's side to try and avoid the mist-walker's hand before exclaiming "Look out!".

The man did not take long to react, he had watched his opponents movements carefully, working out how he reacted and what he was capable of. He knew that he used Ice, thought to what degree was not obvious so far, he also did not appear to be a decent ranged fighter, but there was a chance he was wrong about the former, their combat had been very brief so far.

As for what the ice user was planning, Grig had already thought through his actions and began his counter as the ice spike and wielder claim closer. It was systematic in movement, the outstretched arm which had been immersed in the odd substance the hazelnut haired man had been using pulled back to his side as a fist, his body weight shifted as he crossed the rest of his body with his other arm, the right. His stance widened as it almost looked as if he were going to charge forward till it became a more fixed position.

Then the green cloud appeared around the right arm, just as it had previously in the other, in a brief puff before forming a rather thin wall in a gaseous form, enough to complete cover Grig as a square shape, but not concrete solid yet. He stared through the partially see through wall to his counter, the left arm pulsed slightly as it came into play.

When Ferrus had avoided the mock fire which Grig had sent at him, it had not simply dissipated. The substance never did until it was drawn back into the users body, a limited but seemingly never dwindling supply. And in this same fashion, a large ball of the mock green fire, in reality just a high temperature version of the substance in gaseous form, now shot back towards its user. As it rocketed back, it spread out, becoming a wider arc. There was now to large expanses of the stuff in front of and behind Ferrus. Grig had guessed Ferrus’s style was to dodge at the last second, so his intention was to make the fire more spread out, if he covered a large enough area, his prey would be trapped and incapacitated.

Ferrus watched as the fires surrounded him and began to close in. He could faintly make out the somewhat immobile form of Grig through the flames but at present he thought it a better idea to try and 'find' him later. Right now he had to worry about being burned alive. Without further hesitation he spread a thick layer of ice over most of his body leaving just enough patches in the armor to allow for movement. After completing the mock armour he back tracked towards where the flames had come from and blasted through the wall causing him to lose his newly created armour. Ferrus had employed a simple rule of physics by allowing the ice to take the full force of the heat while the rest of his body remained cool and cozy on the inside.

Ferrus didn't have much time to relish in his narrow escape before he was already plotting his next attack. Grig had remained in a fixed position for almost the entire fight. This could mean that Grig was not excessivly mobile and thus relied on his powers to keep his opponents at bay. Without further consideration he formed several icycles on the roof of the room and caused them to shoot down on the opposite side of the enclosing flames to where Grig was hopefully still standing.

The icicles were clear in his sights, the substance after all was his own, years of its use and manipulation of certain points allowed him to make small spy holes to see past his gaseous defence. Grig had expected a much more over the top counter, but seeing these few frozen projectiles hardly phased him. In fact he did nothing at all as they came at him, only the gas screen between him and the points. It was what came behind the attack that neutralised it, the arc of fire had continued hurtling forward, still at the high temperature, making quick work of the situation.

The two waves of green clashed and expanded, cooling and forming a tight circle around Grig, only coming up to elbow height, revealing him partially to the others. The green gas seemed to circulate around its user in slow streams, each going at their own pace. The exercise of his attacks were not showing yet, but he felt confident he was doing enough to keep the poison at bay. He took the opportunity to analyse Ferrus once more, he was getting an idea of how well his opponent could wield ice, how quickly it could form and into what shape or object. The ice armour was a good display, Grig had expected a much cruder defence.

He also took the opportunity to get his bearings once more, even though he was not moving, people around were, he drew his attention away from the fight to spot what the others were doing. It appeared the older man was being doubled teamed by the amnesiac and peace maker, the dragon thing had not done anything yet, all bark and no bite he guessed. Then he saw someone he hadn’t seen, still unconscious. Grig raised an eye towards this figure, though snapped his attention back to Ferrus, seeing whether his opponent had prepared anything yet.