[b]Damien stopped, his rings doing the same... The veins on his face pulsing red as his eye seemingly fills with blood, the yellow replaced by Crimson.[/b] [i]"You dare..."[/i] [b]Damien's ring dispersed into the air, turning around he put a finger to his sensor.[/b] [i]"May... Do not make this a blood feud... I admire you, but I will not hesitate to kill you..."[/i] [b]Damien pushed down on his sensor, a small cracking noise coming from his head. Then with his other hand, Damien did the unspeakable... Sliding his sword into his chest until it came out the other side. But instead of mortally wounding him, the blade began to melt into him, the purple flakes condensing on his skin.[/b] [b]Then with a crack, he broke his sensor...[/b] [i]"I give you to the count of three..."[/i] [b]He said coldly, still turned away, strange black liquid beginning to run down his arms, causing droplets to fall from his fingertips.[/b]

[i] Damien's wives form disappeared into thin air, but no sooner than she did, Damien felt six sword points pressed to his back, Lance's speaking up behind him. [/i] "I'm sorry if that was a line I shouldn't have crossed Lordan." [i] But for his sincere and heartfelt apology, the swords didn't move from his back.[/i]

[b]Damien slowly raised his hands up, the liquid spilling out as if it were water, sliding over his body as it seemed to rush over Damien in waves.[/b] [i]"Congratulations, Ronin. You win."[/i] [b]Damien takes a deep breath and swallows hard, his eyes closing as the liquid washes over the lids and drowns away his hair... As it moved, it fixed itself into rigid place, taking the shape of armor, Damien's suit repairing itself. Quickly, two sensors popped out from his head as his helmet encased his face, hiding any expression he may have had.[/b] [b]Damien quickly lowered his hands to his sides, and stood still for a moment, his interface buzzing to life.[/b]

"No, I didn't." [i] The swords withdraw from Damien's back, Lance stepping backwards. As bad as he felt about it, he'd made a promise a long time ago. A promise that was to be kept under any circumstance, disregarding any codes of honor Lance had. [/i]

[b]Damien says nothing, extending a hand until metal collected in his palm, taking the shape of his firearms, adhering to him accordingly, the process repeating with his equipment. His sword was still at his side, the other one still embedded inside him.[/b] [i]"Suit yourself..."[/i] [b]Damien sighed and turned his head slightly, his helmet calibrating slightly with each little movement. With a tap of his wrist, back panels opened up and his thrusters burst to life, lifting him up quickly as he held in the air, looking around at the chaos... For a moment he thought about trying to fix it... But such a task was... Finite.[/b] [b]For a moment he thought about passing words... But nothing came to mind. Nothing came to mind... And his head was pounding...[/b] [b]Instead he dropped near the gate of the arena, checking his equipment once more before his body slowly melded away as his cloak hid him away.[/b]

[i] Lance sighed, running his hands over his face as his swords vanished into thin air, hidden away until they were needed again. Lance surveyed the wreckage, shaking his head. Damien was probably off to drink himself into a coma, and Lance thought about doing the same..[/i]