maskormenacelogs | a little party never killed nobody, so we gon’ dance until we drop

Entry tags:

a little party never killed nobody, so we gon’ dance until we drop

WHO: Caesar Zeppeli (

glampop) and that stupid clown (

debauchewy)
WHERE: a patch of woodland outside of De Chima
WHEN: 3/16, afternoon
WHAT: a sparring session
WARNINGS: Hisoka. Fighting. Swearing. Clowns.

[Caesar said he should have an 'arena' for their spar by Sunday, he found the place on Saturday, and he doesn't shoot Hisoka a text until Monday is well under way. It's a simple message comprised of no apology for the delay, but the coordinates of where to meet, and then a suggestion that they do so around two in the afternoon. With that, the date was set, and Caesar could half-focus his attention on a short meeting with his modeling manager.

Quarter-focus.

One-sixth-focus.

He hasn't had a real match in months. Joseph's been more out and about than he has, and while exercise has kept him from losing the density of his muscles, Caesar can't help but feel lazy. With all the politics swirling around, this hero business has been a hassle. Going to photoshoots and otherwise training alone has been the easy course. No more. Not since Jojo took the time to yell at him over such selfishness.

So what if he's dead? He's breathing here. And now he has someone willing to make that breath go ragged. He wouldn't mind it. A real fight.

At one-thirty, he's in the meadow clearing of a wood region right outside of the De Chima suburbs. The early arrival isn't to earn himself a leg up on his competition-- he wants to make sure no one will show up and potentially be caught in the fray. In the past, he's used bystanders to serve a purpose in a battle, but he doesn't feel the need to humiliate this opponent. (Frankly, the guy's fashion sense does it for him.) This is strictly to be a test of skill.

He'll wait, and he'll do so patiently.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[As a man that's usually late himself for everything, he doesn't think anything of the late text. A late fight might be annoying considering he enjoyed them, but eh- hardly bothered. Things have been rather active anyway and he's had plenty to fill his time with thankfully. And to be honest? Until he got that text, he had forgotten about Caesar already. They've only spoken twice and barely, he's hardly made an impression on Hisoka as of yet. It even shows on his face as he arrives.]

[A little- bored.]

[Compared to the excitement his life has even without his usual routine from back home, some faceless man wanting a fight? Doesn't mean much to him. Though- it is rather nostalgic. Pointless people picked fights with him plenty only for them to prove to be boring. Of course, he always has high hopes, especially for ImPorts, so while he appears bored he does- appear. Were he truly uninterested he wouldn't show at all.]

You'll have to remind me-

[Said as he feet push through the grass. A meadow? Cute. he smiles a little, approaching. Late. Around a half an hour late from the time Caesar gave him.]

Your name, what do I call you, it escapes me.

[Smirks, arriving finally, wearing bright red harem pants, a black crop top and some slim black flats for shoes. He smirks, setting a hand on his hip and slicks back his bleached white hair before it falls in his eyes again.]

Caesar Zeppeli.

[No beat is skipped, no snapping of barely tethered nerves. Caesar can't say he's thought too much about this man's name, either. It could bear repeating, if he wants to exchange such pleasantries, but in the meantime, it's not as if they're here for friendship. This is a match, which Caesar expects to learn from only if this freakshow can fight as well as his aura indicates. Before that, the only thing they share in common is abnormal facial markings (and pretty sure the clown's are makeup).

As far as attire goes, Caesar's been partially affected by his work; he's in black today. Loose black slacks that allow for free movement, and a wifebeater that will offer the same. There's a touch of color to a green scarf and signature headband, but otherwise he's wearing the same 'uniform' he has for modeling auditions where a gaudy outfit is a purposeless distraction.]

Does this work for you?

[A sweeping gesture of one hand, indicating the area.]

[Sorry he just wants to know what name to moan in his head should you be at all inspiring enough. For now- he's bored though, intrigued enough to be here, but not enough to make his life force something to behold. Caesar won't be able to feel it at all, no bloodlust coming from him yet, so Hisoka appears- fairly human, aside from his choice in attire and poise maybe.]

It's fine. [Smiles, closing his eyes for a moment.] Fields seem to be the theme lately. Do you usually like a large area to spar in?

[That's not the kind of inspiration Caesar plans on giving, all right. None of that weirdo harlequin nonsense, let's keep this civil. A gentleman's duel, if you please, not some hanky panky shounen anime nonsense. Caesar knows not of that, he is a refined young man.

So on and so forth.]

Close quarters require more skill. A large place like this is the best choice for a first match, or do you disagree?

[No one plans on it.]

[It just happens.]

[It's what puts the 'stupid' in 'stupid clown'. Or 'gross clown'. Harlequin nonsense it par for the course and will happen should Caesar merit it.]

Either you're suggesting I'm not top standard or you are, be careful now. [Smiles, tilting his head to the side as he lifts his other hand, gesturing as he continues.]

Are there any rules to this duel I should remember? [Since 'to the death' is out lately.]

We'll fight until one of us can't continue.

[He doesn't mention 'death,' but it's implied; this is a spar, not a battle. They're innately meant to have different outcomes. Standing straighter, setting his feet apart, Caesar reaches to tug on his bandanna and make certain it's on tight enough.]

Do you have any?

[The meadow offers no advantage, he thinks, to his own abilities, and he can't guess as to the other man's. This should be a neutral duel, based entirely upon individual strength. It's what he'll need to gauge his own. Lisa Lisa would be pleased.]

Oh? And you won't tell on me right? Even though I get the impression that you're clean as can be~

[Too good to not tell? Or too good to snitch? Though oddly enough- aside from the impressions of Ripple that he's getting of him (familiar with it due to many from Caesar's world), that line Hisoka just said felt- forced, even to him. A hint? Maybe. His Power Empathy worked in such odd ways. He smiles, pausing for a moment to think on it. 'Clean'? Something with- water maybe? Hard to say. His focus is a little divided though, thinking on what Caesar said. Ah- he had a little more respect for the man. Till one of us can't continue implies a range of things, death included. Enticing. Yes. But he didn't plan on going that far today, with this person. As fun as Caesar might prove to be. He was yet to prove he was either worthless enough to just kill, or good enough to kill- just yet.]

[His cards would stay in there deck. He wasn't going to get serious. That could changer though, as fickle as the Magician was.]

Not if you do, I was trying to be accommodating.

[Chuckles, shrugging up his hands before dropping them and swaying to step closer.]

Such a focused gaze though- my- do you know what to expect from me? [Grins, lifting a hand to gesture out to him, speaking with his hands, releasing an invisible strand of Bungee Gum to attach to Caesar's chin.] Or are you just too confident to be impressed yet?

It's the opposite-- I don't know what to expect at all.

[Which is more or less the reason he suggested this in the first place. Convincing Joseph to come out to the middle of the woods in order to knock each other around would be easy, but he's familiar with the younger man's abilities. What he needs is to see more of what this world has to offer. Here and now, it isn't only Ripple and vampires one has to worry about! There's all sorts of things that can be done. People that can grow to enormous heights or blow fire from their mouths. Things that Caesar almost wishes he'd been given the power to accomplish.

Wishing is pointless, though. With pride, he'll hone the craft he has. The clown steps closer and Caesar is on guard. Subtly, he'll begin to rub his index fingers and thumbs together, either hand kept by his side. This will activate the soap solution which is all he'll really need to get the ball rolling.]

Besides, I'm not as clean as you'd think.

[Anyone looking at Caesar would know him to be a gentleman! He knows that! None of them would be able to guess at his dirty origins.]

Let's begin.

[He sees the way Caesar's hands move, as subtle as it is. Reading him, his posture, expression, everything. He steps even closer, brows high, lids low. What an odd gesture. In nervousness? Preparation? Hard to say.]

[He looks back up to his face, says nothing in response, doesn't come after him, doesn't attack. Just keeps walking closer, slow, a hand on his hip, gold eyes staring him down.]

[So, they'll begin. Caesar lifts his hands, and it's all very neat, very precise and coordinated. The way he arches his palms and fingertips over his head, pulling them away from each other and leaving a rainbow band of shimmering soap between them. A hop backward, light on his feet, and the arc will transform into-- bubbles.

Pretty, soapy bubbles, flying toward Hisoka with purpose. Good things he's seen some ridiculous attacks before, or he may not be mindful enough to dodge. That said, they will pursue him-- Caesar has some mastery over this particular form of his Ripple. But they are bubbles, that's not really something that can be changed.]

Hm- Oh I understand now. [A smile, his eyes widening as he sees those bubbles, sees how Caesar moves. he can already give the man some respect at how fluid his actions are, the hints of dexterity seen even in such a small range of poses. Bubbles though- a dead give away to his interesting line about 'clean' earlier.]

[He wonders what they do.]

[So much so that he doesn't go to dodge at all. Instead he opts to stand in place and then them come at him. To Caesar he'll appear on the defensive, he'll appear like he's underestimating him by letting them hit him. But it's all curiosity driving Hisoka not to wove from their path. His Nen is tougher though, strengthening it around him to defend should those bubbles do something like explode. After all- that energy around them is familiar.]

[They'll explode once they make contact, infused with enough Ripple to cause a stir. He has no intention of killing during a spar, but he won't hold himself back by much. The way Hisoka looks at him says it would be an insult to do so.]

[They'll hit, all of them infact. Hisoka guards himself with his aura enough to stop himself from getting really hurt but they still rough him up. He feels it, heat rise to his skin, blood dripping down the side of his face. He closes his eyes and stays still, standing with a hand on his hip.]

[No real response from him. Stands there, is hit, keeps his smile, not a single flinch. Eventually he moves to lift a hand, sliding his fingertips against the side of his face and pulling them away to glance at the blood painting them before grinning and licking at them. His eyes dart back up to Caesar.]

Stings a little. Soap in the wounds? Rude~

[Another pause, seconds, before he suddenly darts forward and pulls his hand back, thrusting it forward to aim a punch at Caesar's stomach, following it with a sweep of his leg at his shins.]

[He can tell it was no mistake for the man to leave himself so unguarded. A good battle, a true battle, is not merely about avoiding all damage. To win, with a bounty of honor, is to persevere. And now, his opponent has a measure of one of his abilities. Looks like he can withstand it.

Caesar will put more energy into the bubbles for the next round. See how Hisoka fares then.

While the clown licks his own blood and some of the soap, Caesar is keeping light on his toes. Before he came up with his techniques, he was a brawler. He smashed men's jaws in with wrenches when they asked for his then-hated family name.

The punch comes fast. Works its way hard into his gut, and the sweep will have him toppling. He rolls, once, catching himself low as he shoots out a stream of liquid from his palm that will soon take shape into a much, much larger bubble.

This one won't explode. This one absorbs.]

Why don't you see how that tastes?

[A punch and Hisoka bends to dodge it, watching it whip past and back before he leaps up and flips backwards, hands on the ground. Out of the way of the punch, the sweep, the bubble and he hops back onto his feet. His brows raise, glancing to it, unsure if getting close is a good idea but ends up opting for Caesar instead of his bubble.]

[Shoots to the side, around, comes at him in a flurry, just as much a brawler, fights how he feels. Swings a hand hard towards Caesar's jaw, and another to his stomach before kicking upwards between his legs with his left foot.]

[The bubble will pop at Caesar's will, no longer useful if the clown is choosing to avoid the attack. Caesar, to his credit, will switch to physical blows as easily as if he'd instigated them. He catches the first hand to his jaw, the second to his stomach, but before he can be kicked too strongly in too weak a spot, he'll manage a hold on Hisoka's leg. The momentum lifts him momentarily off the ground before he shoves the man down by a new, firm grip on his thigh.]

Ha.

[A cough. His face stings and he isn't being given much time to return assault. Once his feet touch earth again, he'll swing a right hook, the blow charged through with enough Ripple to smart, but he's not going to melt the man's face off if he makes the hit. That would be a silly end to a fair fight.]

[Strikes at Caesar and he hits, each is a connection that Hisoka will quite happily take advantage of, sticking his aura to Caesar's jaw and stomach. Ends up with two invisible strands of Bungee Gum on him before his kick is blocked.]

[Pushed down, he'll go into a crouch before bounding back wards, away from him. The two cords of his Nen still connected to Caesar and he makes a light motion with both hands, sweeping them together as if dusting off his palms, only to attach both opposite ends of those cords to the palm of one of his own. Already out of the way of Caesar's hook, having opted to make distance between them just as suddenly as Caesar stopped Hisoka's kick.]

Mm, fast, though only near the end. Did you not expect that?

[He assumed they'd be testing out their abilities, both from their old worlds and the new ones given to them here. Caesar's inherited nothing impressive from arriving in this modern universe; his bubbles are easier to call on and housework is done in record time. Nothing spectacular. It's his Ripple that he wants to stretch to its limits, so it's with that in mind he approached the match. When Hisoka resorted to a more direct measure, yes. It had caught him off guard.

But he matched him before the damage could become severe. That's all that really matters.]

I told you-- I don't expect anything!

[His vehemence stops the declaration from being an insult. His turn to close the gap between them, and he'll keep himself charged through with that special brand of energy. A fast push forward-- continuing the 'conversation' in the form of attack, he'll begin with a kick, aiming for the clown's side.]

[A grin, quickly dodging to the side, his arms remaining down, not attacking in return. Just dodges, swift, flexible. Pulling over and away, further back from him and just out of reach of that kick.]

[He chases after him, led by that speed he can't quite overcome. When he saw how the other man was built, slender and flexible and uncomfortably like a ball-jointed doll, he'd had an inkling he might have agility on his side. In the moment, it's on full display, and while Caesar is only a second behind, it is a second.

Excitement and his temper are getting the best of him. His perception heightens in tandem with his desire to simply land a good punch. This time, it will come from his left arm.]

[Keeping so close, so quick, it's almost a shame Hisoka is toying with him, but that's always necessary in the beginning. Were he to push forward and give this man his all, he'd be dead.]

[No fun at all! He wants a fight after all, and this is more to read the man than to get that much out of it.]

[Another dodge, left arm and he swipes right, back, quickly pushes a hand forward to grab at Caesar's arm, and with a seemingly out of no where amount of strength yanks, lifts him, and throws him fast and to the side. If he gets a hold on him after all. After the throw, he'd be fast to follow after him, darting to chase and swing a leg down, aiming to send the airborne man down hard into the ground.]

[Based on that same build, Caesar underestimated the older man's strength. Not entirely his fault; where he comes from, the brawnier, the more powerful. Skinny lads don't lift up those with twelve-pack abs and arms that have trouble being stuffed into shirt sleeves, it's a matter of evolutionary law. Turns out, that's not always so. He wonders what Hisoka plans on accomplish, coming at him like that, up until he has his arm and whoosh. Caesar's airborne. There's a moment of floating, much like the bubbles he employs, before he's brought right back down to earth via a leg jamming itself down into his gut.

When he hits the ground, his body digs into it. Creates a small crater and he lurches with the momentum. Eyes roll back for only a moment as the pain blooms out and he's congratulating himself on his own idiocy. His opponent is stronger than him, so now it will be a test of his will to see how long before he concedes.

As he bounces back up from the force of impact, he's starting to think this may have been too hasty a spar to plan. The most he can do is try and form a soap barrier-- something to catch and buffer him from a follow-up smackdown.]

[Bounces up and-

is struck again. Or aimed at. Hisoka throws a heavy punch in his direction, aiming to slam into Caesar's ribcage, bare knuckles, and grinning like a mercury soaked hatter.]

[It's obvious he has the upper hand, but the Magician doesn't get into many fights he isn't sure of that, his confidence boundless even in the rare situations where it's pushing it. Strikes and if there's a crack he'll coo, moaning to himself, his body flailing slightly with how his arm whipped.]

[The flexible bubble barrier stops a full-on crack, thank God, because the last thing Caesar needs right now is to hear his opponent start moaning. A second bounce occurs, but this one is softer, and gives no real room to swipe at him a third time.

The phrase everything hurts comes to mind. Caesar isn't sure there's a square inch on his body that isn't in some degree of pain. Anticipating being struck at, he'll guard his face and roll, fighting gravity and weakened flesh as he pushes himself out of the dirt crater. His outfit is a wreck. He coughs saliva with flecks of red.

Up again, staggered this time. Slow, because he wants to conserve energy in case Hisoka interrupts his ascent.

Caesar is already beat, but he has his pride and his tenacity. There's a darkness in his gaze. Resolution.

They'll stop only when someone admits defeat, was it?]

Where does your strength come from?

Where? [A laugh, kicking his leg a little, as if to straighten out his ankle from how heavy of a kick that was. With that, he'll move to step closer, his stride the same, hands on his hips.]

My self of course. Where else?

You were born with this?

[So, it has nothing to do with what he was granted upon his arrival? The man sure has the confidence for it to be innate.

Caesar finds himself taking a halfstep back before dropping down, defensive, gaze flicking up and down along Hisoka's form. What will he do next? Where will he aim?]

The potential to have this. Nothing great comes to those who don't work for it, hm?

[Stays still, turning to keep facing him, calm as a cucumber but with the hand dangling and not on his hip tense. Cords in his wrist tight, fingers curled.]

And you? What you can do, channel through you body. Ripple, correct? It's trained. You've also trained yourself to apply it to those bubbles with you attack with, though about that soap as well. Something you hold? Or did the Porter see to make that more convenient?

[Hisoka's intuition is almost as impressive as his power. Caesar almost takes the necessary second to gaze at his hands, wondering if the slickness of the bubble solution can be seen, but he catches himself. No, it's not a hard guess to make, and confirming it doesn't hurt him anymore than it helps.]

Yes, it did.

[Those words mean he's encountered other Ripple users. That would explain some of Hisoka's ability to thwart him.

A deep breath, evening himself out again before he leaps up. Ripple strums in his legs, helping him reach several feet over his own height as he unleashes a barrage of bubbles from above.]

[Well Ripple still alludes him to a degree, but he's learned to look at it is like a Transmuter's Nen. Ripple being more of an enhancement to it, a shift in it, Ripple is like electricity, like heat, light, but not light. Something from their world so it is broad. A powers with limitations only under the brief describing words. Like Josuke's ability to 'fix'. It simply meant just that, but then, everything that fell under that.]

Oooh~?

[Looks up, smiling bubbles. It's sad, he doubts he can actually catch such things so instead he'll just have to dodge. Swerving to the side fast.]

You're too slow, Caesar, can't you make them come at me any faster?

[Runs around, crouches, centering Nen in his feet and leaps. Leaps high above the other man only to come down on him, feet together, a spear head kick towards him to thrust the both of them down into the ground and into all those bubbles still shooting through the air.]

[The bubbles won't hurt Caesar if he recalls them in time, letting the power in each one fizzle out instantly as he slams down into them. They pop as harmlessly as the normal kind, which does very little to stop Caesar from hitting the ground with enough force for a rib to crack. He doesn't scream out of shock more than self-control, eyes open wide even as dirt flies into them.

On his front, he'll shove an elbow underneath himself, readying this time for the second hit. Hisoka didn't stop last time to let him have a chance to regain his feet, he doesn't expect him to this time, either.]

I can make them faster.

[He'll cough that out and see if it will slow his hand. Halt him from bringing this fight to a firm close.]

[Oh, interesting, so he can control them not to hurt him? Or perhaps they just don't inherently? He imagines the prior, Caesar doing it quick enough, though he wonders if he hadn't would he have gotten hurt?]

[A hop back, but yeah- only to come at him again, this time with a fist, striking hard, an aim to Caesar's either lower back or stomach, depending on if he turns around fast enough.]

[He flips, and it's Hisoka's first real mistake because Caesar's hurt enough he's no longer aiming to hold back. Hisoka isn't, anyway, and the fight is nearly over in minutes because of it. The bubbles he launches at him now aren't the same as the others. They aren't controlled, miniature bombs, they're discs and razor-sharp, spinning with incredible speed right at the man as he attacks. Bubble Cutter. An intense assault.]

[Coming at him and he's hit by the first, feels it's energy beat over him, his skin singing. Feels another and he quickly shields with his Nen. Sways, darts, moves away from them as they come for him but lifting his arms to block his face, covering them with Nen to protect them and adjusting it according to each blast.]

[It takes concentration, speed, skill, and power. Hisoka makes it look incredibly easy too, so Caesar might be a bit frustrated by that. But Hisoka's definitely respecting this attack.]

[A final leap back, far.]

Oooh, getting serious now, are we? Come on~ give me more of that. [A grin, eyes lighting up and he lifts a hand, swiping it towards himself and yanking Caesar from the strand of Bungee Gum connected to his chin.]

Ha-- I was never--

[He's about to say 'joking around,' provided nothing incredible happens to interrupt.

Ah, yeah, of course it does. Caesar stumbles, tripping over his own two feet as he feels an invisible force pulling him forward by his chin. He digs down with his heels, lowering his center of gravity to make the bulk of his body into an anchor. Another power of the clown's, or has his temper truly taken on a life of its own?]

I'll give you it happily.

[He claps his hands together and lets them open like a clam shell, spraying a stream of the impossible to control cutters in his opponent's direction.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

a little party never killed nobody, so we gon’ dance until we drop

well stupid clown's rude

fact isn't rude, it's fact

Except when it's not.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject