Kamizuki Izumo (clouded_moon) wrote in strangergamesrp, @ 2012-06-10 18:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | closed, dean winchester, event, kamizuki izumo, log, observable |
[Event Log] In the Ring
Who: Kamizuki Izumo and Dean Winchester
When: June 9th
Where: The Games
What: Izumo and Dean have to play in a Game. Things start well and get ugly.
Warnings: Gore, swearing, injuries
Open or Closed: Closed
Observable: Yes!
*
Izumo stumbled out of the transport van, acting a little more drugged than he really felt. He didn’t want anyone catching on to the fact that their drugs didn’t quite put him out. Made him hazy and drowsy, but not out cold. He figured it had something to do with the many drugs and poisons he was resistant to.
He found himself a spot against the wall and sank into a crouch, flak vest braced against the cool concrete. He eyed the constants brought out. It was not a large group at all.
Was that Dean?
It was indeed Dean. Izumo waved, but didn’t get up.
Dean dragged himself to a seat on the floor, whatever those drugs were he did not like them. His head felt like... Well, similes and metaphors were beyond his level of coherence, so, basically he just felt like crap.
He looked around sluggishly; thought he made out Izumo in one corner. Why was Dean even here anyway? He’d made it pretty damn clear he wanted no part in these Games.
Dean looked...not too well off. Izumo sighed, picked up, and wandered over to crouch by Dean, moving very deliberately and with a stagger or two. He slid into a crouch beside the teenager, and looked around the room again. Hmm. Combatants were being thinned out. Looks like there would be consecutive matches today.
“Hey. Awake yet?” Izumo slurred his words slightly.
Dean screwed his eyes shut. “Just about.” He said, voice cracking slightly. The fuzziness was fading but slowly. Whatever the drug was, it packed a hell of a punch. “How do they expect us to do anything feeling like this?”
“Oh, they wait a while. It wears off quick,” Izumo assured him, still faintly slurred. “If you’re too bad off they juice ya up though.”
One of the others was already getting that treatment. He was probably up first. Izumo grimaced. He watched the Scientists warily. One was coming their way. Izumo did not move. There was no reason to, and though he did not trust these men they at least were no immediate threat. The scientist walked up, and held out two lime-green bandannas.
“Second match,” he said, and walked away again.
Izumo took one bandanna and passed the other to Dean. “Damn. Don’t guess you treewalk, huh?”
Dean took the bandanna with a bemused look. “What? Treewalk?” He’d thought that the drugs had sort of worn off but things were still making very little sense so maybe they hadn’t. “Is that a ninja thing?”
Dean put the bandanna on the floor in front of himself and stared at it. It was too green, he didn’t trust it.
“Yeah.” Izumo swapped out the bandanna for his forehead protector, sticking the metal plate with the symbol of his village into a beltpouch. He tied the green cloth around his head, glanced at Dean and his bandanna, then picked it up off the floor and attempted to do the same for Dean. He was being helpful! Also annoying the brat.
Dean batted at Izumo. “Wha’ the fuck are you doing? M’not wearing that.” Not wearing it ever. No way.
“Why the hell not?” Izumo asked, grinning.
“It’s green.” Dean said with distaste. As if Izumo should know why he didn’t want to wear it. “Also, you look like an idiot.”
“That’s kinda the point. We gotta be flashy.” Izumo looked around, and began dropping the slur, as several other fighters were recovering already. “C’mon, kiddo. At least we’re on the same team. Damn, this will be fun. Don’t shoot me.”
“S’not flashy, s’just green.” Dean mumbled the words, so he wasn’t going to get any agreement from Izumo. Maybe he just liked bright green things. “I’m not a ‘kiddo’ and I can aim a little better than that.” Dean considered. “Unless you think I’m going to shoot you deliberately. Which I guess is possible. If you keep being a dickhead.”
Dean relented, “Fine, tie the fucking thing on me then.”
“I move damn fast. You could shoot my by accident.” Izumo dropped one knee to touch the ground and twisted to tie the bandanna around Dean’s head, cheerfully. There. They matched now. Except Izumo was in a flak vest and Dean in a leather jacket. “And you’re ‘kiddo’ because I’ve got rank. What’s your best range?”
“My world doesn’t have fucking rank so...” They’d had this argument way too many times. “Fine, whatever.” Dean frowned and contemplated Izumo’s question. “I guess probably long-range, with my guns but any really. Dad liked us to be able to fight however we needed to.” Dean spoke the words slowly, still thinking it all through.
“I prefer my guns though. Just don’t tell him that, m’kay?” Dean reached up to pat Izumo’s cheek.
Izumo blinked at being patted on the cheek. Oddly affectionate from Dean - maybe he was still drugged up. “I won’t.” He was terribly unlikely to ever meet Dean’s father, and anything else he had to say might not be so pleasant, if his suspicions were true.
“Wonder what the terrain will be like?” he mused.
“Good. That’s good.” Dad would be pissed if he knew. Dean closed his eyes again and tried to will the drug out of his system. It was mostly gone, he figured. Just a little lingering in his brain.
“Who are we fighting anyway?” Dean opened his eyes again and looked at Izumo - he seemed to know what was going on.
“Hell if I know.” Izumo eyed the combatants. “Looks like there’s more than one group. Look pretty human, though.” For the most part. The guy with the long tail with fins, not so much. Izumo shrugged, and glanced back at Dean. “Your pupils are still dilated.”
Looked like Dean had no tolerance for the drugs.
“M’fine. It’s mostly worn off, I think.” Dean hoped more like. His head felt a lot clearer than a few minutes before anyway. “So, we just fight whoever they put in front of us? I still don’t really like the idea of hurting people for entertainment. Not if they haven’t done anything to deserve it. I fight monsters not people.”
Dean looked around the room again. Yeah, he really didn’t want to fight these people. Spar maybe but not actually shoot them or anything.
“That’s the gig. Best man walks away.” Izumo shrugged. “If we’re lucky it’ll be light, and no actual killing...”
He looked up at two set of stretchers were trotted in. One bore a bled-out corpse, the other someone kicking and writhing. Nice. Not the Light Games then. A scientist beckoned them. Izumo grimaced. “We’re up. C’mon.” He got to his feet, wobbled just a tad for show, then started walking to the scientist’s side.
Dean stood and followed after Izumo. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? There was no getting out of this one - either he fought or he got beat up, maybe killed. “How can this not bother you?”
“It’s just another mission.” Izumo glanced back at Dean. “I kill people for a living, remember?”
He walked up to the Scientist. “Rules on killing?” he asked, just make sure.
“Defeat them - killing’s not required.” The man shrugged. “But the crowd likes the blood.” He smirked, and gestured them through the door.
Izumo knew that much already, and headed resolutely out. He looked back at Dean. “Well, that’s that.”
Dean actually felt a little sick, he looked at the Scientist but couldn’t exactly go up to him and ask not to participate. He wondered what would happen if he just refused to go out. Maybe they’d just shove him out anyway.
Dean noticed the Scientist staring at him as he lingered by the door and that decided it for him. At least if Dean had to do this, he’d walk out there on his own. Taking a deep breath he stepped through and looked for Izumo.
The arena was bright with the afternoon sun. It was a very standard arena, with a few fallen logs and deep sand already churned up and bloody. It was not overly large. There were also upright posts; from the looks of the dead tiger-creature chained to one, they’d had live beasts. Without the animals Izumo thought they could be perfect for the aerial sorts of attacks he liked. He pulled at his chakra, felt the familiar buzz, and moved closer to one of the poles. There were six in all, in a staggered ring, and the fallen logs scattered in the sand made a ray pattern, like a child’s design of a sun.
“Don’t worry about watching my back,” Izumo told Dean, hastily, as he saw the other fighters approaching from the other side of the ring. “Watch yourself. I’ll holler if I need you.” He reached into a beltpouch as one of the other fighters drew something long and metallic from a holster and aimed at them. They were both humanoid - though the one with the gun-like object had furry ears on the top of his head. The girl looked normal as they came, and twirled a bo staff eagerly.
“Get ready to dodge, Dean.” Izumo glanced back at the teenager as he palmed the smoke-bomb....then dropped it. Screening grey smoke exploded outwards for several feet and Izumo instantly translocated to the top of the nearest standing pole, reaching for his kunai even as he landed and stuck himself firmly with chakra.
Dean grimaced and pulled out a gun from his jeans. He fired it through the smoke in the general direction of the other fighters and moved back a few paces. “Thanks for the warning.” He muttered, darkly. Fucking smoke bomb.
He figured finding some kind of cover might be a good idea as the guy with the weird ears had definitely been holding some kind of firearm. Except he was sort of stuck in this open space. Which was just awesome, exactly how he had been hoping to spend his day.
The other two darted apart, the gunshots spraying up sand. The girl staggered but kept coming, breaking into a run. Her partner fired several shots blindly into the smoke; the gun wasn’t as loud as Dean’s and sounded more like thunder growling, leaving a scent not of gunpowder but ozone. Izumo decided whatever it did, he didn’t want to get hit by the bright green flash of light that issued from the end of the gun, lighting the smoke-screen wierdly.
Izumo threw his kunai and caught the guy in the arm supporting the gun and in his hip. The man yowled and staggered, gun barrel drooping.
Dean hesitated, watching the two run towards them. Eventually he raised his gun again and pointed it towards the girl, firing off a shot and catching her side. He winced and mumbled an apology before turning and taking off across the sand, trying to put some distance between himself and the weird laser gun thing. Izumo seemed to be dealing with that guy fine.
He came to a halt, skidding slightly in the sand and whirled round to face the girl who had continued making her way towards him. Dean raised his gun again and pointed it at her. She stopped a few yards from him, staff raised in front of herself, and snarled at him. Apparently she was pissed about the bullet wound.
More kunai and a second smoke bomb as Izumo translocated - different pole-top, different angle. Senbon this time, small and hissing, and the girl cried out as they lanced into her flesh, lodging in a row down her back.
Good. Those were poisoned.
Izumo translocated again as the guy fired at him - hit a different pole and and started a genjutsu.
When the man swung around to fire again, the genjutsu dropped and held. He went perfectly still as the illusion took hold, eyes widening. He’d be seeing his shot completed, Izumo tumbling down from the pole.... Izumo dropped from the pole, and walked calmly right up to the man. He drew the tanto from his belt and moved around behind the taller man. He positioned his arms carefully, then reached up and grabbed the man’s shoulder with his right hand. With a practised motion he snatched his tanto across the man’s throat. He went down in a choking gush of blood, clutching at the gaping wound.
Izumo stepped back, not a spot of blood on him.
Dean flinched when the girl cried out, looking up just in time to see Izumo disappear again. Using his momentary distraction the girl launched herself at him. Dean reflexively raised his gun and fired, the bullet hitting her straight between the eyes. She came crashing down to the ground just a few feet from him.
“No, no, no. Shit!” Dean clicked the safety back on and tucked the gun away, taking the few steps needed to bring him closer to where the girl was lying. He dropped to a crouch and pressed his fingers to her neck trying to find a pulse. Pointless really; he knew she was dead.
Belatedly, Dean realised there had been another fighter, one with a weapon and he looked up. Izumo had dealt with him.
“Fuck.” Dean moaned, “This is so fucked up.” He reached to her face and gently closed her eyes.
Izumo walked up, a little puzzled by Dean’s behavior. Kid claimed he was so good at fighting, so experienced. Fighting didn’t always mean killing, though. “Well, you got her before the poison did,” he commented, reached past Dean and kicked the body over. He crouched and started pulling out his senbon from the corpse’s bloody back, grimacing a little as he got tacky blood on his hands. Half dried blood was nasty.
He’d already collected several kunai, and wiped the senbon down on the non-bloody portion of her clothes before sheathing them.
“You alright, Dean?” he asked. Kid didn’t look so great.
Dean grimaced, Izumo wasn’t being all that careful with the girl. Seriously, did he have to kick her?
“I’m fine.” Dean stood and glanced around the arena, checking for...Just checking. “And before you start, this has nothing to do with experience or whatever. But I’m supposed to kill monsters, not- I’m not meant to kill people like her. M’supposed to protect her. That’s my job.”
He sighed and shook himself off. “What do we do now?”
“Ah. That’s why you didn’t take her down the first chance you had.” If Dean had been a ninja, Izumo would have chewed him up and spat him out for leaving so many openings alone. For not taking the kill as hard and as fast as possible. But the kid wasn’t ninja. Hell, he wasn’t even as mercenary as Izumo had first thought. A kid playing at fighting.
So Izumo merely stood and eyed the rest of the arena warily. “If the scientists haven’t come out by now, I think we’re in for another fight.”
“You can shut the fuck up.” Dean resisted the urge to try and punch Izumo. It probably wouldn’t help anything. “Just because I don’t want to go around killing everyone in sight doesn’t make- Whatever. It’s not really going to make any difference what I say.”
Dean looked around again. No sign of anyone. Shit. “I’m not fighting again. Not unless they bring out an actual monster. No more killing innocent people.” His voice got louder until by the end he was shouting at the sky.
But the crowd was roaring and Izumo knew that it was the blood and not Dean’s words. He looked at Dean, and felt sorry for the kid. “Keep it together. We’ll get out yet. Oh fuck get down!”
The arrows glinted and Izumo went springing aside, chakra burning hot.
“Kai!” he shouted, and pulsed his chakra in a bright flash.
Illusion rippled and the third fighter - a female with long black hair and a yumi bow - was revealed standing poised on top of a pole. She took one look at Izumo and threw down a smoke bomb before vanishing.
Dammit dammit dammit he’d lost his focus and they were now dead. The smoke tasted-smelled like poison, acrid and biting in his lungs. He whipped out his filter mask, slipped it on with practised hands, and drove into the smoke. She didn’t move as fast but her genjutsu was damn good and he’d been so fucking focused on Dean and feeling sorry for the kid....
She kicked him with chakra to the gut and he went down hard, slamming into the sand and skidding, all the breath knocked out of him.
No time to breathe no time to think only time to move and he shot up off the sand, pinging against the nearest pole at a crazy angle, still gasping for breath, vision swimming from impact and lack of air both.
Dean had been readying himself to let out a stream of curses at Izumo. And the scientists. But when Izumo ordered him down all thoughts like that left his head. You didn’t ignore a tone like that.
He dropped to the ground instantly, rolling onto his back and pulling out his gun. Just in time for some kind of gas bomb to go off. Not good. He could feel the gas burning in his lungs, throat, eyes and started coughing before he could get it under control.
Dean covered his mouth with his arm and slitted his eyes, keeping low to the ground he started to edge his way to the side of the arena, gun still held in a tight grip in his hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was not going to pass out. Izumo already thought he was useless and he was not going to pass out like a girl and prove him right.
He eventually got to a place where the gas seemed a little thinner, some clear air getting through the cloud, and he allowed himself to slump down for a moment, letting the suppressed coughing out to clear his lungs.
Dean hoped Izumo was dealing with that girl - had to be another ninja - ‘cause Dean couldn’t see shit through this.
Either the shock or something in Izumo’s collar had kickstarted his brain, because now he could sense-hear her chakra in a shrill sweet song like birdsong, only it meant she was trying to kill him and she came soaring out of the smoke like a stooping hawk. Her blows were hard, and a kunai gashed his wrist but he caught her deep in the bicep and kicked her down with a foot in her hip. She twisted, landed like a cat, and Izumo threw senbon at her, trying to press keep her busy running oh fuck fuck fuckity fuck she was doing handsigns on the run dammit and he dropped after her, darting through the thinning smoke.
Senbon glittered, and Izumo started to dodge, saw Dean lying on the ground, and changed direction.
A quick throw of shuriken deflected most of them but Izumo caught three in his vest, two on his arms and one through his ear. He yelped, pulled it out, then pulled off his filter mask and tossed it down in front of Dean’s nose.
No time for instruction. She spat a fireball. Izumo snapped his hands through signs and drove a hand to the ground, wrenching water from the deep-seated water-table and pulling up a quick shield of water. Steam hissed and roared and Izumo was going to have flash-burns on parts of his face and wrist but he wasn’t roasted.
She had a ninjato, a short almost-straight blade meant for stabbing. Izumo whipped out his tanto and rushed in to meet her, to keep her away from Dean who was down.
Dean fumbled with the thing Izumo had dropped next to him, managing to get it over his face somehow, and dragged in a breath. Oxygen was kinda awesome. He pushed himself to his feet, which maybe involved stumbling back a few paces but, hey, at least he didn’t fall over his own legs.
He sort of wondered what the gas actually was ‘cause he really didn’t feel so great. That could probably be dealt with later for now there were other pressing issues. Dean raised his gun and squinted through the fuzziness - whether that was the gas cloud itself or an effect of the gas was another thing to be dealt with later - aiming at what he was pretty sure was the girl. Ninety nine percent sure. It would help if they would just stand still. So inconsiderate.
Well, Izumo knew he had a gun, if he couldn’t get out of the way that was his own stupid fault and he’d called Dean useless anyway - or at least thought it - so he probably deserved to get shot at some point.
He fired off three shots hoping to God they hit where they were supposed to.
Ninja fighting was not neat. Especially where Izumo was involved. It was violent and bloody and messy and he’d gotten in about three hits but she’d scored up his arm and she hit like an avalanche. His face was bleeding and burn-ache-pulse of poison in his blood and in his lungs was a particular horror he knew so well. He wanted to puke but he was fighting for his life and so terrified he could hardly think. She was a better swordsman by far and he stumbled back, barely able to keep his his defense.
One moment he was standing, then next he was flat on his back, gasping, wondering vaguely what had just knocked his leg out from under him.
And he saw her coming but he couldn’t move fast enough.
She drove her sword down, and Izumo howled as she drove it deep into his ribs and down into the sand beneath.
It was pure reflex to try to attack back, his dagger blade catching at her thight.
So, there was a possibility that the next thing Dean did was lose any sense he actually had. In his defence he had just accidentally hit his partner with a bullet - and the girl but it was like she couldn’t feel any fucking pain. Bitch - which had got said partner stabbed and Dean really wasn’t good with the whole survival instinct. So, his next move was- Kinda stupid.
He ripped off the mask thing, couldn’t really see through it properly, and ran at the girl. Who was a bit busy gloating over Izumo and not paying attention to Dean. Probably thought he wasn’t a threat. Maybe that was why it worked, sort of. He was able to barrel into her, tackling her to the ground and away from Izumo. Took a knife to the side and where the fuck had she got that from anyway? Fucking ninjas.
His gun poking into her side, Dean managed to fire off a shot before getting thrown a good few feet when she flicked back up to her feet, knife held out in front of her.
Izumo couldn’t breathe.
He wasn’t surprised, given there was a fuckin’ sword in his left lung.
He was shaking too hard to really make his hands work either, fingers cold and clammy, pain filling him out and breaking out over his lips in shallow gasps and short high cries. His fingers rattled against the metal, slicing a palm as he tried to get a better grip on the blade, one thought beating in his head like a bird against a closed window: get it out get it out getitout!
Dean ignored Izumo. Felt like shit for doing it but there was no way he could help now. The girl stood a few feet away, watching him. Then she did the thing with the hands that meant nothing good and Dean had to duck a fireball.
He wasn’t going to feel bad if he killed her. She’d stabbed Izumo. Bitch. She even had a smirk on her face, like Dean was going to be easy to kill. Fuck that.
Coming up from his crouch he threw the knife from his boot at her. She dodged it easily but the bullet he fired next hit her shoulder. Made her drop the knife she’d been holding. Then she just fucking disappeared. Dean blinked a couple of times before he felt a hand slide over his shoulder pulling him backwards as a foot hit the back of his legs making him slam down onto his knees.
He blinked another couple of times as the world went...weird. Like he’d had way too much to drink. Everything sort of swirling together and tilting sideways. She was back in front of him again. Had she moved at all? Maybe the gas had him imagining things. Dean raised his gun again and fired at her.
But it wasn’t her. It was Izumo. No, wait. Izumo had been stabbed, hadn’t he? But that was definitely- Dean had just shot Izumo through the heart. Just killed him. That wasn’t right. Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes but when he looked back up Izumo’s body was still there. Bullet wound pumping blood sluggishly onto the sand. And the girl had just vanished.
Hands grasped the blade and wrenched and Izumo screamed, back arching, as the blade was torn free from his flesh. The woman smiled and held one hand clasped over her bloody ribs. Izumo’s vision was wavery but he rolled up and tried to stab her again, only his right leg didn’t work and agony flared bright-white in his hip and there was blood everywhere and she was dancing back with a pained laugh. She turned towards Dean, standing stock still. Caught.
Izumo was losing strength, losing blood, body going limp. He clasped his hand together, blood bubbling over his lips. “Kai...</i> It was the faintest whisper and his chakra fluttered...then obeyed and pulsed, shattering every illusion for a radius of several yards.
His head was spinning, his breath too fast, his hands too cold. The pain was fading in and out in violent sharp pulses.
The world came back into sharp focus and Izumo’s corpse body faded away. Dean stood and whirled around, regretting the quick movement as his head spun, a lingering effect of the gas.
His mind blank, Dean raised his gun and fired. Kept firing until the chamber clicked empty. He heard the girl drop, thud to the ground, didn’t know whether the bullets had killed her or some other wound. Unconcerned, he rushed to Izumo’s side and dropped down next to him.
“Man, you don’t look so good, y’know?” Where to fucking start? There was way too much blood. Dean blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. His lungs felt really heavy, trying to drag air in was suddenly a big effort. “‘Zumo? What was that gas?”
Izumo coughed, blood frothing in his mouth over his efforts to breathe. Little shallow gasps not cutting it. He was cold all over now, shuddering. Shock, he knew it well, hoped the fight was over in the distant part of his brain that still seemed to work.
Dean’s voice went unheard, senses fading in and out with the pain on long rolling waves, clarity a shimmering thing. Like a fever, a high, like a poison overdose. It was bad bad but he didn’t feel the horror of it.
Hands ripped his flak vest open and cold hands sealed over his burning side. Izumo gasped, coughed up more blood, and sucked in a fractionally deeper breath. Medics. Medics and voices and sharp talk, lungs blood poison Dean stretcher. Coughing was agony but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop, blood pink and coppery and frothy foamy messy. Somebody touched his hip and he cried out, lost his breath, and dropped into unconsciousness.
Dean watched as red liquid came out of Izumo’s mouth. Blood, that was blood. Not good. Some people came over to them and tried to do something to Izumo. Dean slapped their hands away. “No. Leave him ‘lone.”
They paid no attention to him, just continued to work on Izumo, speaking all at once. Dean dragged in another breath through protesting lungs. And why was it hard now? He’d been fine before. Sort of.
Now that he’d stopped Dean could feel the throb from the stab wound on his side, one side of his face stinging like a burn - maybe he hadn’t dodged that fireball as well as he’d thought - and the usual bruises and cuts littered across his body.
Dean watched as the people - must be medics - loaded Izumo onto a stretcher. He watched the red, red blood drip onto the ground. He watched the dark start to creep in round the edges of his vision. Belatedly realised one of the medics had been trying to get his attention for quite some time, calling his name in a sharp tone. He grinned up at the medic and lost his grip on consciousness. Out cold before he even hit the sand.