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Post by The 11th Doctor on Sept 23, 2011 21:29:28 GMT -5
Onri stood in the middle of the Academy halls. He was wearing striking Black robes, with the Academy emblem in solid red and the seal of Rassilon in solid gold. It shimmered in the light, seeming to change colors every few minutes. Onri's raven black hair hung over his head like a mop. His bright green eyes sparkled. He stood pompously. His stance seemed to say, I am superior than you, so don't even try
He looked into the eyes of the other student. "You know. Ioki..." Onri spoke in a voice as cold as steel. "...you really have no chance. If I were you, I'd beg for mercy. But since I'm not you, as I would have killed myself if I were, it seems I have the pleasure of teaching you your place."
Kiaysha stood a few feet behind him, a sarcastic smirk across her face. She was one of the Deca, who had awarded her with the name, 'The Supremacist"
Onri's hand's slowly curled into fists. A sardonic smile spread across his face. "When I'm done with you, Ioki, you'll beg Rassilon you'd never been born."
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Post by Alec Harrison on Sept 23, 2011 22:05:58 GMT -5
Īoki looked into the eyes of Onri, and the superiority in them, "You know. Ioki..." Onri spoke in a voice as cold as steel. "...you really have no chance. If I were you, I'd beg for mercy. But since I'm not you, as I would have killed myself if I were, it seems I have the pleasure of teaching you your place."
Despite his best charming smile, the Timelord could feel himself shivering. He'd seen what happened to those Onri didn't like...he'd heard one had regenerated five times in one fight! How had he gotten himself into this?
Then he glanced over at Kiaysha... Her brown curls, her deep, sea blue eyes... He wasn't the handsomest one in school...but Īoki certainly wasn't the ugliest.
Onri's hand's slowly curled into fists. A sardonic smile spread across his face. "When I'm done with you, Ioki, you'll beg Rassilon you'd never been born."
The Timelord's breath came out in gasps.
"I guess we'd better get going then."
He swung his fist at Onri's head. It was sloppy, more like he had thrown his arm over his head with as much force as he could muster, which admittedly wasn't much.
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Post by Seren Ash on Sept 24, 2011 0:09:21 GMT -5
"The One, is definitely not the kind of person I'd want to be in a fight with. I bet he doesn't even have the skill set that a first year does. It would be damaging to the ego to attack him, and actually beat him." She stated as she turned herself around from where she had been hiding. Red hair was pulled from her face harshly, her robes belted in with a present from Thete. The Archivist, as everyone was known to call her, was not exactly happy with the act of bullying. She had been bullied for a long time, still was on occasion. But now she fought back, she always fought back.
She approached the males, her strides long and dangerous as she put her hands on her hips. Her tone now was a fully icy chill. "If all of Gallifrey had to choose who they'd rather want for the President, they would choose a rock before you." She said to The One, her eyes boring into him as she gently reached out to step between the two. "You won't be attacking another student, and your rassilon be damned hussy, won't be getting her jollies off while you do it." She stated as she slipped into a basic stance, her robes hiding her legs and her feet placement.
"Ioki, please just step back and be careful?" She said softly as she looked back for a moment. The tone still held ice, but there was no way she was going to let him get hurt! ((11 feel free to push past her. XD ))
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Post by The Mentalist on Sept 24, 2011 18:44:10 GMT -5
A tall, slim red-head hovered by the nearby lockers. He looked on at the fight with a wicked smile, arms folded and leaning back casually. he was enjoying this.
He wasn't dressed in uniform. The exact opposite. A pale, elbow length shirt with a few holes in it. They looked like burn marks and the rest of his arm was covered in them, white scars weaving through them. He had bright red etchings on the bone line of his left arm. Destroyer. in another man's handwriting. It was odd- they looked fresh, like they still stung in the air. His fists clenched, a plaster across his neck and a few stitches in his right eyebrow. He looked mean.
And by Rassilon, he was. He was never usually at school. There had been rumors of what he was doing but everyone was frightened by them. Said he was a paid assassin, a crazed murderer and an alley dealer. There was no clear indication as to why he was there.
In truth, the head-master had called him in. They'd both spent a fair while talking. The head-master trying discipline, shaming and eventually bribery. The boy had simply said how little he cared, how he was getting irritated now and how he would dispose of him had the head-master not shut up. He'd then subsequently been excluded. That was met with a hearty cheer and a swift exit.
It was all the encouragement he needed to finally leave school.
Now he was just loitering around the corridors, waiting for another student to come and pay him a visit. He was due another one- the supply should have run out by now.
He was enjoying the view from here. They both were. His madder half was laughing away to himself, fueled by the misery and violence displayed in the hall. He even whistled when the lady, The Archivist, came over. The core, the one in control, had to laugh at the comments the madder half of him made. Such a dirty mind. She wasn't bad- but she wasn't quite his type. Or his size, far too small in one department.
The Mentalist smirked and sauntered his way over to the fighting two, smiling slyly at the Archivist.
"Now now, what's this I see? Fisticuffs in the hallway?"
He paused.
"That's not how you do it. Stupid. Here's how you do it."
He hauled Onri off of the ground and smacked him once in the face. Very hard. The Mentalist could swear he felt a tooth break on contact. How pleasing.
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Post by The 11th Doctor on Sept 25, 2011 16:13:02 GMT -5
Onri was hurled back as the Mentalist punched him. In the distance, he was aware of the Archivist stepping into the middle of the fight. He lay on the ground for a few minutes, gazing up at the Mentalist. Then he pulled himself up.
"Oh, lookie here! The madman and the bookworm, come to join the fight."
Onri made a beckoning motion with his hand, and one of his cronies, a large boy, about a year older than Onri, by the name of Risdallfanika, better known as Ris, stepped forward. He'd been awarded the name 'The Addict'. For obvious reasons. He stepped forward, and without hesitation, the towering hulk smashed The Mentalist's head into a wall.
Onri brushed past The Archivist. Just as he passed her however, he swung his leg out, knocking her down. Even as he did this, he swung his fist towards Ioki's face.
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Post by Alec Harrison on Sept 25, 2011 17:42:41 GMT -5
Īoki watched in a bit of amusement as the Archivist stepped up to defend him. He was taken quite aback by the Mentalist doing the same. Either he had been nice lately to the lot of them, or Onri had more enemies than he previously believed.
These weren't his friends- Libby was Thete's girl, who he usually steered clear of, and the Mentalist, he'd heard rumors, was part of some heavy metal band. A violent one.
The Mentalist gave Onri something to deal with, knocking him back. Though this was impressive, Onri was ready to fight in a moment. He called one of his friends up, tripping Libby and going for the Mentalist.
Onri evidently wanted Īoki for himself. His hand flew up to stop the strike, but it just pushed his hand into his face. It hurt- hitting him in the eye, and knocked him to the ground. He groaned and stood back up, wearily throwing his fist as the One.
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Post by The 11th Doctor on Sept 26, 2011 19:07:46 GMT -5
Onri tried to duck but Ioki's punch landed on his face. It wasn't that hard, but it was enough to make him stumble slightly.
He regained his balance, and scowled at Ioki. "It's time to end this, you Rassilon bastard." He swung his fist forward, catching Ioki in the gut. He then swung his foot out, trying to trip Ioki as he has The Archivist.
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Post by The Mentalist on Oct 4, 2011 9:55:03 GMT -5
Even as his head was smashed into the wall, the Mentalist let out a yelp. It was a hard wall. 'The Addict' was quite the strong one. But he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him as it was never a good idea to smack your dealer's face into the wall. Looked like that junkie would have to find another source.
The top layer of his skin on his forehead had come off, the cells stuck on the surface like wallpaper and the blood like red paint, dripping and sliding down his face. A chunk of his molar came out too, as he spat out broken shards of his teeth. The spiky white bits scuttled along the floor. One hit The Addict's foot. It surely wasn't pleasant for either party.
He wrestled the other time-lords hands off of his face and ran over to Onri. Blood now coming from his mouth, frothing up and the eyes of a demon replacing his own, he grabbed Onri by his shirt. He was midway in trying to trip someone up and now, The Mentalist had hauled him right up from the ground. This guy had forgotten his place. This coward.
"No. No, you fight your own battles with me."
He spat out another chunk of his tooth. More frothy blood pooled in his mouth.
"You don't waste your energy on these punks. You keep it and use it on me. You need it."
With his other hand, he reached over to Libby. He dragged Onri with him, raising Libby to her feet again. She was alright, she'd done nothing to him, he had no problem with her. Thete and Tyler? He had problems with her friends but not her. He'd leave her be. That was low Onri. he thought to himself. Don't hit girls. Didn't your father teach you anything?
Once she was on her feet, he let go. Ioki was on the floor, but he was alright. he could get up. He'd not known it but he'd given the two a time window. A tiny chance to escape.
Now with Onri firmly in his grasp, he was sure the weasel couldn't wiggle his way out of this one. He got right into his face and growled.
"Now, are we going to fight like men or are gonna just keep hitting girls?"
He stared in his eyes. Even the darkest of demons would feel a shiver with that glare.
"Take note, only one of those answers is acceptable."
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Post by The 11th Doctor on Oct 4, 2011 17:53:14 GMT -5
Onri was hoisted into the air by the Mentalist.
"What the Rassilon...?" he began.
The Mentalist was spitting blood out of his mouth, and little white chunks of tooth dropped into the blood.
"Looks like even crazy half-cocked madmen can bleed."
Mental spoke.
"No. No, you fight your own battles with me."
He spat out another chunk of his tooth. More frothy blood pooled in his mouth.
"You don't waste your energy on these punks. You keep it and use it on me. You need it."
"Now, are we going to fight like men or are gonna just keep hitting girls?"
He stared in his eyes. Even the darkest of demons would feel a shiver with that glare.
"Take note, only one of those answers is acceptable."
"Aww? Is the little crazy boy mad because I hurt his little friends?"
Onri glared into The Mentalists eyes.
"I am Onri, son of The Watcher and The Minder, two of the greatest time Lords on Gallifrey. I am the very best of the very best. . You dare lay a hand on me...you'll learn I don't play fair."
Onri twisted, smacking his fist into The Mentalist's face. He spat into his eye, and struggled out of his grasp. He then swung his foot towards The Mentalists stomach.
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Post by The Mentalist on Oct 4, 2011 19:08:48 GMT -5
"Looks like even crazy half-cocked madmen can bleed."
The Mentalist scoffed. This guy was pushing it.
"Aww? Is the little crazy boy mad because I hurt his little friends?"
The Mentalist glared back into his eyes, demonic shades still lingering through them.
"Neither of these people are my friends."
He kept his centimeter of distance.
"I'm angry because you refuse to grow a pair."
The Mentalist nudged Onri's crotch with his knee. It was humiliating, what he was hinting at,
"You won't fight me and you hit girls. Come on, really?"
He rolled his eyes.
"I bet you feel tough when you do that. Let me show you tough..."
Onri glared into The Mentalists eyes.
"I am Onri, son of The Watcher and The Minder, two of the greatest Time Lords on Gallifrey. I am the very best of the very best. You dare lay a hand on me...you'll learn I don't play fair."
He twisted his face.
"I don't care if you're the son of Rassilon and Omega and your sister is The Other. You're no different to me. You're still fair game... Great if you ask me. I play my best in that way."
Onri twisted, smacking his fist into The Mentalist's face. He spat into his eye, and struggled out of his grasp. He then swung his foot toward The Mentalists stomach.
The fist came into contact with his face. It battered his nose and he soon felt his eye being spat in... The weasel wiggled his way out of his grasp and soon, he felt a foot in his stomach. Letting out a wheeze, he doubled over and let out a laugh. He then laughed again, raising himself up again.
Wiping blood off of his mouth, he grinned.
"Now we're alive. COME ON!"
He charged at Onri, smirking and going for him again. He'd tackle that little guy if he didn't run quick enough...
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Post by Seren Ash on Oct 8, 2011 13:05:32 GMT -5
The Archivist was caught by the whirlwind of things that happened. Each push, each shove, each thing that happened to her, it only made her colder. She focused her mind as she had been taught, and stepped back a little. She would keep the others away from the main fight, they had no right interrupting it. Her eyes narrowed, as the anger flared through her body, but she would not let the Anger rule.
She stopped as she heard what The One said, and she whirled around. "You're a bloody fool!" She snapped, her eyes glowing. "You call yourself grand, but you don't even have any blood from the Royal House. Call yourself so great! There are many on the council, that have higher standing then your parents. You're a nobody! No better then the rest of us. Lesser, because you seem to want to deem to make yourself higher." She taunted.
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Post by The 11th Doctor on Oct 8, 2011 17:03:25 GMT -5
Onri was tackled by the Mentalists. In a flurry of punches and kicks, he ripped himself free of his grasp. Staggering backwards, he wiped a trickle of blood from his nose and stared at it.
"Oh. You actually managed to hurt me."
He spoke in a cold voice.
"It's time for this silly game to end, you Rassilon BASTARDS."
He raised his hand, motioning to the Addict, who grinned sadistically. He lunged at the Mentalist, laying round upon round on him.
Onri smiled and turned towards the Archivist. She spoke.
"You call yourself grand, but you don't even have any blood from the Royal House. Call yourself so great! There are many on the council, that have higher standing then your parents. You're a nobody! No better then the rest of us. Lesser, because you seem to want to deem to make yourself higher."
He smiled. Then he grinned. Then he began to laugh.
"Oh? OH? And what are you, you sniveling little bookworm, hiding behind your precious Thete, the blockheaded fool?!"
He leered at her.
"I've seen things you'll never see. I've seen worlds burn, governments fall. You are nothing to me, you pathetic...little...worm."
He smiled wickedly, and lunged at her.
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Post by Seren Ash on Oct 8, 2011 17:48:43 GMT -5
The moment he lunged was the moment he made his biggest mistake. "My parents decide if you ca travel. They make the TARDIS' that you use to travel." she stated as she snarled and hen sidestepped. He was lunging, win a heavier weigh then her own. He was also lunging towards a smaller opponent. Her body twiste after a moment as she gripped the edges of his robes. Her body used his momentum to move him then. Her body was more then capable of doing so.
She threw him then and put her knee in the small of his back. Growling in his ear as her other hand went to the pressure point on the back of his neck. "you are slow. You let your emotions rule you. Even If you reached a high station, you would lose it. You speak of worlds and seein things, I understand things that you couldn't even begin to understand. And the next time you bring Thete into this, Rassilon be damned for the rules, I'll do a death point on you and force you to regeneration. You're a fool and too cocky for your own good, and one would hope a new regeneration might change your mental aberration."
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Post by The 11th Doctor on Oct 14, 2011 18:21:00 GMT -5
Onri wrestled The Archivist off of him.
"You would dare touch me, you silly lite fool? I am The One. I will be Lord President. I will be master of Gallifrey. And you, you sniveling, wormy, little piece of scum, will bow before me. I am POWER incarnate."
Onri ran a hand through his raven black hair, then suddenly swung out at the Archivist.
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Post by The Mentalist on Oct 14, 2011 20:35:11 GMT -5
It was funny how the weakest always spoke the loudest.
They bragged on and on with no real evidence to support them. No meat on their bones, no blood on their shirts, no blood on their hands. Even those who had their own were cowards. You needed another man's blood on you- that was strength. Their blood on you, showed your dominance. You knocked them hard enough to get some of their precious rubies showered on you.
The Addict had grabbed him alright, tossing round after round at The Mentalist. A corridor brawl. A few rounds in, a couple of bruises and broken veins, a little laugh escaped his ripped mouth. His gums shined with scarlet, his nose dripped too. But not a drop went on The Addict.
The laugh coming from The Mentalist grew louder and louder, until he felt his whole lung content escape in a single breath. This was living. He tore up, something unexpected happening next. He spoke, through punches,
"You're going to have to find another dealer."
Soon after, teeth and nails tore into The Addicts arm. Flesh sliding off, The Mentalist forced himself up, into a full on headbutt into the offenders chest. Hearing a small crack, the madman overpowered the brute, taking advantage of the shock of a breaking bone. Tossing the addict onto his back, The Mentalist climbed onto his, grabbing his head with both hands. He spoke right into the boys mouth, cold blue eyes staring mischievously into the offender's.
"You're going to have to find another life."
He laughed, quickly twisting the neck. It cracked. Loudly. He then punched the limp head a good few times, until it rolled around like it was on a ball and socket joint.
Until it just stopped rolling at all.
He was his rage and his rage could kill a man.
Yet, out of the corner of his eye and the side of his holy ears, he could hear Onri going at the girl again. He heard the little speech from the ground.
"You would dare touch me, you silly lite fool? I am The One. I will be Lord President. I will be master of Gallifrey. And you, you sniveling, wormy, little piece of scum, will bow before me. I am POWER incarnate."
The Mentalist stood up. Sniffed blood back up his nose, spat out some red liquid on the ground and took the walk over to the brawlers. How many times did he have to drill it into this guy's head?
Stepping between the two of them, The Mentalist leaned down to Onri's level again. He had no more cronies to call out. He took a look at The Archivist, a hint of sympathy toward her. He wished he could tell her his thoughts, but his psychic ability was seriously impaired. Ever since he'd looked into the schism, it had been wiped out. It made life difficult, when all he wanted to say was,
"I know you can take this guy. But he's mine. I'll let you have your turn."
Nothing complicated.
Instead, he just picked up Onri again. That dribble of blood escaped his nose and his eye was bruised. The stitches on his eyebrows had torn. He laughed. Then screamed. Right in Onri's face.
"YOU ARE NOT POWER. YOU WILL NEVER HAVE AN OUNCE OF POWER IN YOUR PATHETIC BODY. I AM POWER!"
With that, he demonstrated exactly what he meant. By catching the lungue and tossing Onri across the corridor, making sure he hit the wall. Nice and hard.
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