Set the Fire [Yun/Closed]

[attr="class","mouths1"]"The only thing I'm saving is a load of trouble, by taking care of this issue personally." Yun spat back with equal venom, no longer fearful of his pursuer or the terrifying physical strength he commanded. The volume diminished slightly as tracks were being changed, giving the eccentric duelist a moment to gather his thoughts.

What Yun knew of this man, he obtained by way of observation: the man was a relentless juggernaut with the tenacity of a bloodhound, consumed with an insatiable thirst to drown himself in violence and gore. All others were just collateral damage, brick walls to be torn down with his bare hands.

The surging pocket of darkness that hovered close to the muscular vagabond surely had to be a Digimon; the gamer knew better than to rely on superstitions or folklore to justify the presence of something that clearly emanated an aura of danger.

Rather than sic whatever lurked inside on the cornered Tamer, his opponent issued an offer-- no, more like an ultimatum: surrender everything in his possession, or receive broken bones. Such inconsistency could only be met with a visible roll of Yun's eyes.

"Your offer falls on deaf ears, tough guy," Yun snarks back with a grin; as he does, the strobe lights kick into effect, and the crowd starts to egg the duo on with cheers and hoots. "There never really was a choice for me, was there?" Even the meat-headed creep had no choice but to agree with his assertion.

As the rhythmic flickering of the blinding white strobes intensified, the occasional flash of gold could be seen appearing and vanishing in discordant increments, too fast for normal eyes to detect without the club's lighting effects searing into their retinas.

The new presence failed to cease movement, darting all around LAIR like a metallic hologram without substance, while Yun remained rooted firmly in place, assured that no harm would fall unto him. If all else failed, he had one final ace to use.

As the track changed and the rhythm of steel and drums increased, Yun placed his faith in chance.

"Game time."

[attr="class","mouths1"]As soon as the hulking man's Digimon took on a shape Yun could recognize, that of the Dracmon species, the man with the eccentric hairdo slipped his delicate fingers low enough to click the top of his deck box open, readying its contents for the brawl that was to inevitably unfold.

The black imp Digimon hoists both hands up to reveal bulbous, glowing eyeballs lodged within the palms, then releases a fast-moving lance of dark energy at the behest of the beefy titan. Shit!

Moments before the enemy's technique could find its mark, the strobing lights of LAIR's dance floor metamorphosed from a pale white to a radiant gold in an instant, coalescing around a single, new, luminescent form that had seemingly appeared from thin air to defend Yun from harm.

In that single stretch of a few seconds, Rho's projectile dissolved with indeterminate success against the visible surface of metal, a protective armor plating, mantled by a flowing white cape that swayed behind this reptilian body as razor sharp clawed bared themselves in a defensive posture.

Zubamon's quiet, heroic arrival is hailed by a crescendo of cheers and chords.

Yun basks in the club's atmosphere, exhilarated by the presence of people looking for nothing more than to have a good time. It wasn't the most ideal place to have a duel, but the gamer could still wring the rush of adrenaline for every second it was worth. A fight was taking place; these people wanted to see a show unlike anything they've seen before, even at the expense of the criminal scumbags that operated this excuse for a dive.

"No mercy, Zubamon!" Yun calls out, and the gleaming warrior nods in silent affirmation. Instantly, he drops into a crouched stance, but then his form begins to flicker once again; a trick of light that exploited the numerous strobes and colors of the environment to create the deception that he could, for all intents and purposes, move faster than the eye can detect. To the drugged-out patrons of LAIR, Zubamon was teleporting.

Then, the armored reptile darts across the stage, keeping low to minimize wind resistance, and vaults high above the gasping crowd of onlookers — as well as Yun's dogged foe and his Digimon servant — achieving just enough altitude to curl into an acrobatic forward flip, using both the club's discordant lighting scheme and the movements of his cloak in tandem to possibly befuddle the simple-minded boxer long enough to distract him from realizing that two claws, forged of immaculate gold, threatened to carve him to bloody pieces.

Yun stands by, watching the scene unfold as he withdraws a single card from his deck.

[attr="class","mouths1"]Unfortunately, the scumbag and his Dracmon were a lot more experienced than Zubamon first gave them credit for, especially upon realizing that his second claw swipe had failed to connect with his intended target, and that the muscular human, though wounded, had earned an opening and was now aiming for any possible gap in his ironclad defenses, itself a consequence of the impairing effects of LAIR's strobes and music.

Impressive, enough for the glittering armored reptile to deliberately permit the hulking human a free hit — though not without being inflicted with a mark in exchange for the privilege, as Zubamon barely shifted his face just low enough to avoid being slugged directly in the eye, just low enough for his nasal blade to leave a gash before his fleshy opponent could notice amidst his haze of anger and adrenaline.

In that same moment, upon making contact with the lacquered dance floor, Zubamon's instincts warned him of impending danger from below, then sharply flung his body to the right, allowing him to barely — just barely — avoid a perfectly-timed assault from Rho's Tendrils of Dis with a stylish evasive roll, followed by a tuck-and-jump maneuver to return him back to a standing position.

Once more, Yun had to choke back the urge to laugh at the simpleton's poignant question. "And ruin this great hairstyle?" He taunted. "I put a lot of money into achieving this look, you know!" That was a lie; all of Yun's luscious points and spikes could be achieved with plenty of patience, diligence, and a lot of store-bought gels and mousses.

Not that this bloke had any of those things, among other virtues that were noticeably absent.

Unwilling to waste any more of his time bantering with this burly buffoon and his loaded questions, Yun returns the majority of his focus on keeping track of Zubamon's movements, assured of his partner's eventual victory. The strobe effects provided considerable strain on his eyes, but the occasional glints of gold were all Yun needed to know that he was still alive and on the move.

"Sharpen up, Zubamon! I said no mercy!" Yun hisses to his golden warrior with extra heat. The cape-wearing dragon responds with a threatening display of grinding claws, producing harmless showers of sparks as metal slid against metal, unintentionally wowing a few of the bar's inebriated onlookers in the process.

No warning was given upon the golden Digimon's final, menacing swipe of his renewed talons, a dramatic display of the power he commanded as a gust of pressure emanated from his armored body as though he commanded the wind itself, cape billowing upward like it was caught in a draft; the sheer force pushed a few drunken teenagers backwards, incidentally removing them from harm's way. Two birds, one stone.

Once more, Zubamon's form appears to meld with LAIR's strobes, appearing and vanishing with every half-second to elapse, confounding all bystanders that try to keep up with the warrior's movements. This time, he zigzags towards the Dracmon, throwing his weight forward into a lunging straight aimed for the Virus Digimon's right-hand side, then shifting his body to bring his left claw back around for a vicious, secondary swipe.

If he hits with the first attack, all the better. It was the second strike that was performed with a deeper layer of subtext, as though Zubamon was meaning to guide the Dracmon to a specific location rather than inflict lasting harm onto it. Not that doing so was beyond his capabilities, of course. He simply knew what his Tamer expected from him, simple as that.

[attr="class","mouths1"]Zubamon's pupils narrowed in response to the sound of a hideous screech coming from Rho. Although his first lunge missed, the second strike was more than enough to rend the enemy creature's flesh some, while also serving the exact purpose it had been meant to.

But before the golden Digimon and his vampiric adversary could engage for a third time, the sound of boots stamping and beating against the floor in hurried paces could be discerned amidst the club's growing chaos. Four more presences, all of them wearing suits and armed with weapons of varying styles and makes, appeared to contend with the two Tamers and their monster servants, clearly miffed that their establishment had been unceremoniously turned into a dueling grounds.

Though Yun hardly cared for the feelings of Shibuya's seedy underground, he could at least feel a degree of general sympathy for their predicament. After all, Tamers usually didn't make a habit of picking fights with people without a proper reason. Of course, as this lumbering asshole had proven tonight, there was an exception to every rule of thumb.

Two of LAIR's armed goons collaborated with the other pair to bring down the brawling trespassers, and were even willing to tackle an opponent that was clearly willing to shred them to pieces if it meant fulfilling their objectives. It was a match made in Heaven, if "Heaven" were actually called "Hell".

Ignoring the barbaric lunatic's insistence that he would be last on the menu, Yun reached behind the small of his back and retrieved a small, white object that occasionally flickered with the same golden hue that his own partner Digimon's armor displayed with regular frequency: his own Digivice. He needed to create an escape route, far too many people would be chasing him down, in addition to that one, and Yun felt far more pressed by the latter. He needed a strategy.

With a skilled flourish, Yun manipulates the card in his other hand with nimble fingers, then pulls it through his device's card reader as though he were cutting with a sword. "Needle Spray, activate!"

Zubamon's eyes flickered cactus green, if only for a brief second, before he practically slid his way across the dance floor and directly in front of his leather-clad master in a single, fluid movement so that he could dramatically fling his cape outward, unleashing a literal torrent of silvery, pointed needles from its depths at the two beefy bodyguards. It didn't take rocket science for the golden warrior to deduce that no innocents were to be harmed with the activation of any card, and he made certain to follow this unspoken rule as well over five-hundred of the little pins embedded themselves into each creep's skin with harrowing accuracy, putting them into a state of momentary shock as they fell to the floor, useless and out of commission.

All that was left was to find a way out of this mess.

(OOC: Needle Spray used, 4 scans remaining.)

[attr="class","mouths1"]Yun stares at the titan's advance against the two other guards, finding himself utterly speechless to his own surprise. The club's tattooed minions stand no possible chance of achieving victory against this superior foe; his attacks are too wild, too straightforward, too brutal for even these hardened criminals to withstand. He could not be subdued, nor brought to his knees.

Yet, his foes were never given the choice to beg for their lives, or plead for mercy. One by one, the bouncers fall, but the titanic fist-fighter spares no quarter and continues to break bones. In that moment, Yun could see his opponent's expression shift between two distinctive poles: blind rage, and sadistic glee.

Not a man, is he--but a heartless monster.

Yet, the duelist struggles--no, refuses to accept this as the final outcome. Every opponent has a weakness, that was one of gaming's most prominent rules of thumb. This may be a real fight, but the principles were similar all the same. And Yun was inescapably determined to figure out the secret of this warrior's boundless, uncontrollable fury, whatever it took, however long it would last. Truly, a game of Sherlockian proportions that would last throughout the ages!

Zubamon senses his partner's resolve to overcome this nigh-impossible challenge and spins dramatically, cape swirling in perfect circles to face the tan-skinned giant and his Dracmon subordinate. Sliding backwards in a colorful shower of metallic sparks, he closely analyzed the Tamer and Digimon's attack patterns for an opening to exploit, a vantage point to strike from, even something that could be used as a weapon--

Just then, the unmistakable glow of an electric baton sails through the strobes and lights of LAIR, forcefully removed from the grasp of the man unfortunate enough to momentarily attract the rage of Yun's opponent as it clatters a short distance away from several open bottles of expensive liquors and wines that had been frantically jostled or tipped from their original places. Obstacles in the form of freshly-decommissioned bouncers, and the formidable tag-team combo that served as Yun's predators for the night, were all that stood between Zubamon and certain escape.

The golden dragon crouches once again, his armor flickering in time with the club's strobe lights--

--only for a noxious odor unlike anything he had ever experienced before quickly found its way into Zubamon's nostrils and burned them just enough to force him into raising his cape to filter out the scent. Thin, white strands of smoke rapidly begun clouding his ability to see the main entrance, where the gruesome twosome currently occupied. Whatever it was, the foul gas had made Zubamon reel momentarily.

Then came the screams. "Fuck! The cops are here!"

Yun adopts an expression of instant panic, and draws another card from his deck. "Zubamon!" Unexpectedly, the added chaos served to Zubamon's advantage, as it created the opening he had been searching for this entire time: people started clearing the floor in droves, and it would certainly make it that much more difficult for the massive hulk of a human and his vampiric minion to reach his operator before the authorities arrived.

As the club's track begins to approach its finish, the glittering dragon knight darts, bobs, and weaves over the debris scattered across the floor and vaults past the grinning Dracmon in a signature metallic flash, using both claws to scoop up the largest bottle of alcohol among the pile, and the active cattle prod that was to be used as the proverbial match for a truly explosive finish.

Zubamon leaps onto a curved metal railing to use as a platform to dash across, this time away from the vampire Digimon and his master, as they were not who he was focused on. Once he reached approximately halfway across the makeshift platform, the dragon chucked the bottle of spirits toward the center of the dance floor as hard as his strength could allow him to. Yun doesn't have to ask any questions to know precisely what to do next.

"Attack card, activate!" Crunch. The bottle shatters with excessive force, throwing its amber contents over a great area of space and soaking a few of the stage's wires in the process. Good. All for a more dynamic finish. Yun smiles as Zubamon leaps heroically into the air, his back arched while his cape flutters as if in slow motion, holding the cattle prod aloft with the intent to swing it downward with full force.

Yun glares defiantly at his adversary, confident that they would meet again, and swiped his final card through the reader.

"Thor's Hammer!"

As though empowered by the god of thunder himself, the golden dragon's baton appears to physically melt and warp as it makes contact with the puddle of alcohol, the liquid itself acting as a conductor that led directly to the club's electrical systems, including the headache-inducing strobe effects. A bubble of bluish-white light surges briefly from the prod's spherical tip, then pulls itself in before it turns into that distinguishable golden flicker--

THOOM-BZZZRRRRTTT! Every single piece of equipment throughout LAIR shrieks and screams as if the entire building were in agony. The club's patrons devolve into even further panic now as sparks literally rain down on them from nearly every angle, desperately seeking to escape the madness that had utterly demolished this once-prominent Shibuya nightlife establishment. Soon, darkness would fall inside the club, which gave Zubamon enough time to rush back to Yun and guide the bewildered human discreetly through the back entrance and as far away from the scene as possible.

To everyone else, the two had seemingly disappeared without a trace.

(OOC: Thor's Hammer scanned. 3 scans left.)