A Little Playdate [Reserved]

[Nikolai [39]]

Snow blanketed the decrepit ruins where once a great tribute to the human race stood. As the icy wind that brought white blankets down upon the world rustled balefully through the creaky buildings and desolate streets, it was almost possible to hear the cries of some long-forgotten battle amongst the stale broken homes and blasted shops.

The steady crunching of snow heralded a dark-cloaked figure, an inkspot in the frozen white. A pale green optic followed the ground intently as a leather-cloaked stitchpunk followed the tracks of some mechanical monster. The fur-lined leather coat was patched and torn in places, but looked thick and warm. A rag was wrapped around the head to protect it too from the biting cold, hiding mouth and covering head.

An angry red symbol on an eyepatch over the left side of the ragdoll's face stood out even more against the cold; The figure stooped and peeled back the patch, giving it a better glimpse of the world through an infrared shift. It touched it's slim, metal fingers to the insides of the print, then took off running again. He was close now, so close.

But, even as he gripped the hilt of his titan greatsword tighter in anticipation, his fingers clicked against it with paranoia. He felt as though he was being followed himself. He knew not by what. He hoped it was just an imagined fable, but he did not count himself to be that lucky, and so kept his cautions tight to his chest and did not throw them to the icy winds that whipped his coat as he ran.

There was hunting to do.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

Six years. Over six, actually. He'd been wandering, taking contracts, and building his name for six years. Hunting, escorting, guarding, enforcing, he'd done it, for the right price.

Six years, and he still hated the snow. It was bad enough when one area's contracts failed to hold his interest; that meant he'd have to travel for days to reach another settlement, and try his luck there. Normally, this was dangerous, what with the machines potentially waiting to pick off lone ragdolls, or even the rare ragdoll bandit trying to rob an unsuspecting chump. Ulysses wasn't a chump, and he wasn't about to end up as machine fodder. Which was why, when, over the soft falling of the snow and the wind, he heard the telltale creaking of a machine, he immediately dashed for nearby ruins. A short climb, and some rearranging of rubble, and he was out of sight, able to watch as the machine charged past, not even bothering to look about. This struck Ulysses as odd, but not as half as odd as what was pursuing the machine; that was the only word for it. Pursuing. A ragdoll gave chase to a machine.

Ulysses wasn't known for indulging his curiosity. His reputation was built partly upon just the opposite, in fact. But a ragdoll chasing down a machine. . . His eyes narrowed, and he began to follow both, albeit along the edge of the rubble, keeping to the more shadowy patches, and out of the direct snow when possible. He was off duty; he could indulge himself a little bit.

[Nikolai [39]]

The machine's prints veered left, towards the broken building line. It's footprints grew momentarily deeper, then much thinner as the sidewalk began. Nikolai's optic narrowed. It was leading him into a trap.

Whatever was waiting for him- Whatever had been following him- undoubtably lay in the crumbled rubble the machine was making a beeline for.

He kept moving forward full-tilt, and then dove flat sideways through a cloth covered opening and tackled the other being following him.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

The noises were getting to him. It'd been roughly ten minutes, and the creaking of the machine was lost in the snow. Additionally, the ragdoll he'd been tracking was getting jumpy, though, if he'd noticed Ulysses' presence, he certainly didn't show it.

He stopped behind a small veil of cloth, when the rattling, the clinking started. He tensed, and focused on pinpointing the noises. So much so, that he almost failed to notice and prepare for when the large, burly stitchpunk dashed through, slamming him into the ground.

Almost. the reaction was muscle memory; Ulysses rolled with the newcomer, onto his back and shoulders. Simultaneously, he used his left leg to place it on his assaulter's groin region, and, using the momentum of his roll and his strength, which was surprising considering his size, attempted to kick the psycho sprawling off and behind him. Immediately, he was in a crouch, drawing his combat dagger with his left hand, reverse grip. His eyes narrowed in threat, though the rest of his face was hidden by his mask and his hood.

Come at me, if you think you're hard enough.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai found himself airborne after being vaulted into the air. His head was pointed at the ground and his legs were in the air- This other was quite skilled. He arched his back away from the tracker and planted his right hand on the ground. He swiveled, spun around and curled his body up, landing solidly on his feet in a low crouch. He sat back on his toes and pulled his own combat knife from his belt, clicking the fingers of his right hand against the handle.

His optic narrowed in anticipation; This was not a normal adversary. He could see the training in his opponent's stance. Where Nikolai's fighting style was brutal and animalistic, this felt... Rigid. Military. He gave a grin that was more of a snarl. This was going to be rather interesting.

And so the hunt draws to a close.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

Good recovery. Ulysses gave the big one that. A bit too animal, but he knew what he was doing. He rose to his feet, the knife staying in a reverse grip. A quick look-over told him all he needed to know; strong, fast, but. . .

He circled, his feet clicking quietly. The left side, the eyepatch; a small blindspot, but a blindspot. That would be useful, especially since most didn't know what to do against lefties. Still, to assume that of mister Radioactive seemed unfair.

Test first, then kill. He closed the gap, and, with a feint of his knife, attempted to pass by big boy's left side, instead striking with a simple stab, aimed for hips. Simple, and non-committal.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai sized his opponent up as they circled, Nikolai keeping his stance low. His green optic jumped across the armor of the other. Armored sleeves; Hood and face guard. Perhaps a wounded throat. He had the advantage of size, but he didn't count that for much. If the other drew a longer blade, he had his sword. If need be, he would kill the other- He disliked killing stitchpunks, but he would if he had to.

The attack was good- But Nikolai had been fighting blind for a long time. He rotated his body away from the stab, pulled the scarf off his head, and tangled the knife and the hand that held it in the fabric. He jerked the knife up, opening up the other's body, tightened his grip on the two ends of the scarf that held the knife-hand immobile, and brought his metal kneeguard up to meet the other's ribs. Nikolai didn't play with his food before he ate it, that much was clear.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

The strike was a palpable one, and when he took it, he felt it. But it wasn't enough; And the tangling, he could work that. Beneath the mask, he smiled.

A foot slid in, behind the leg of big boy. Ulysses pulled with his trapped arm, and, when the psycho's arms came close, pulled them in tight against his chest, before sweeping the leg, and pushing him off balance with his hip. A simple hip throw.

Immediately, he set about twisting the arms, freeing his trapped knife, before trying to trap his opponent's arms, and bringing his knee down on them. The knife was at the base of the bigger ragdoll's skull, ready to slit optical, vocal, and all connections.

[Nikolai [39]]

This one was good; He felt a secondary jolt of pain in his elbows from the return blow, but the hard metal casings of his arms were doing their job. Nikolai snarled as he started to fall; He was not used to fighting an enemy with pre-existing training. He was going to have to pull out his ace in the hole if he was going to survive, let alone win.

Nikolai curled his arms and legs in as he started to fall, releasing the scarf. As the other ragdoll tried to grapple him, he rotated his torso and lashed out with his right arm and his left leg, kicking towards his opponent's ankle, a weak point on any being, and punching up into the other's face. He slapped the knife away with his left hand and landed on his right foot, leg curled under his body for a narrow support.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

Ulysses saw the ankle coming; He managed to pull his foot up slightly, before stomping down in a heel strike, aimed for his opponent's ankle. With his hand, he easily deflected the punch, and it flew past his auditory sensor. Then, the slap that disarmed him.

Ulysses blinked, before simply applying what he had. Big boy was recovered onto his feet, low to the ground, eh? The smaller ragdoll backed off, analyzing what he'd seen so far; heavy striking. Krav Maga, or just plain streetfighting. Improvisational combat. He played with the wrap he'd gotten. A short tuft for his second hand to grab onto, mostly wrapped around his fist. He circled again.

He's hard enough, alright. But nothing like a skullbeast.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai sprang back, gaining some distance. Definitely time to gain the element of surprise. He reached up with his left hand and pulled his eyepatch down. With a faint 'Clnk!' a bright red spotlight issued from the foreign machine eye that sat in his left optic, bright enough to blind and focused directly into Ulysses' eyes.

As the light hit the other's face, he leapt upwards, grasped hold of a piece of metal that hung from the ceiling, and swung both his feet upwards into the other's chest with the force of a battering ram, looking to use the blinding light as a shocker.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

He'd backed off. Good- the light startled him, momentarily blinding him. Red.

Red meant machine. Machine- Something collided with him, and it was his turn to go sprawling. He got up stiffly, shaking his head. That stung. Possible damaged ribs. Thank god for titanium. What was he-

Machine. He shook his head, and cleared his optics. Oh-HO. Machine? He stretched, before making his next move. Hanging from metal? He pulled his pack, quickly pulling his grappling hook. With a throw, he tried to hook a leg, and, with all his strength, yanked the big metal ape down, towards him. Following the yank, he let go of the rope, and aimed a knee for the stitch-punk's groin, as he flew towards the smaller one. His eyes narrowed to slits, trying to avoid the glare of the red light.

Break the pelvis, then, as he hits the ground, tackle. His new cloth wrap was going to have it's first strangle victim; good thing it was just a machine.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai let himself drop, anticipating the groin kick. He twisted, and the knee went high, colliding with his ribs instead. He grunted and sent a fast, powerful jab towards the other's ribs again. Hammer the weak spot. It was probably what accounted for a majority of his kills. As his arm lashed out he turned his body into the strike for extra range and leverage, bringing his right hand down and trapping the other's leg under his arm, digging his fingers into the other's fabric.

This was going to be tough. The other's strikes were growing more violent, and he had no illusion that this was because of his eye. He made a note to be more cautious. But now the other was getting emotional. Nikolai, despite his vicious style, was practiced at separating himself in battle from his emotions.

[Ulysses-Σ47]

The punch would've been effective, had Ulysses not seen it coming. A simple boxing guard easily stopped the blow, before rotating the the elbow, making his arm, and his body fall to the ground.

Ulysses was a lot of things, but emotional wasn't one of them. He inwardly smiled; his hatred for machines was there, but it never affected his mission, in this case, beating this ragdoll down, and killing him. That was a major selling point; his single-mindedness, his tenacity. His professionalism.

The moment big boy touched down, he wrapped the cloth around his wrist, pulling his arm in a join lock. With the rest, he tried to wrap it around the eyes and neck. Then, kneeling on him, pinning him with his own strength, he used that same power, and pulled. The goal; Choke out.

[Nikolai [39]]

Nikolai's mind raced. He had to do something. He was flat on his stomach with one arm back. But he still had one advantage- His size. He got one arm under himself, then was on his knees. He felt himself beginning to weaken and pushed up with all his might; He was on his feet for a milisecond before he was descending downwards again, with Ulysses still clinging to his back.

Without missing a beat he threw himself downwards as hard as he could on his back, and the resulting 'THUMP' made the snow clinging to the top of the small enclosed space slide off the top and spill into the hole. Outside, a loud clang rang through the air as the dislodged snow knocked over a metal pipe.