Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25924729-20151107020221/@comment-13593058-20160619013435

''Okay, so I managed to at least get a rough idea of who is Prakoso character is jsut from a few Youtube clips so hopefully this goes well. Sorry for not responding earlier, this thread has been lagging on for so long that I forget I'm in it sometimes.''

 The shaggy looking man schrieked a fearsome battle cry as he rushed mercilessly at Memories. His savage machete flurrying in every direction cut down passer-bys who were unfortunate enough to be cut in his rage.

 "What's the matter, ya cunt! Why don't ya ditch that mask and let me see that pretty face of yours so I can cut it off and wear it to your funeral?!" he aggressively hollered. He carried a stern frown on his face that occasional flinched with a killer's set of teeth with every attack he landed. However, his hot-blooded frenzy was only met with the chilling and calculated blocks, dodges, and parries by the masked woman. "Huh?!" Darah screamed, "Whatcha doin'?! You trying to disrespect me?!"

 He stopped, not out of confusion, but anger. The woman, his opponent had been only fighting him with a simple steak knife she had grabbed from a nearby dining table. His machete choppes were easily brushed away through single steps and beautiful brushes of the arm to guide it away from her person.

 "You wanna play?! Play with THIS!!" Darah screeched in an almost child-like tantrum and effortlessly flipped a ten seat table flying at Memories. Out of pure animalistic instinct, he followed behind the table as it made its way to the target, his machete glowing with the power of red Dust and heating up to a scalding orange.

 The table hit Memories with a forceful thud, knocking her back and sandwiching her to the wall. Seeing his moment, he plunged the machete ruthlessly through the table and a resounding crack ecchoed followed by the table bursting into flames. "Hehe." he chuckled before spitting the taste of cheap bear out of his mouth. Darah wasn't satisfied, however, and began to habitually stab the flaming table over and over until it collapsed into mere kindling. The fires of his deed reflected on his trembling pupils.

 "Enough." the woman suddenly spoke. Like a pheonix reborn, Memories stepped materialized from the flames, her boots trampled the burning wood and extinguishing the fires in the process. "Brutality may be your best weapon," she recited, almost like she were reading from a text, "but it is only second to how well your opponent is placing himself."

Darah hesitated for a second, obviously, the woman has proven herself durable, if not capable. He wasted no time with mocking insults this time as he rushed towards a bar in vincinity and hurled every single bottle of liquor and steadfast bar-stool at her general direction before running for the closest exit.

"You should pay for those." He heard the woman speak into his left ear before a hard crash emenated from the back of his head. Memories had caught every bottle he threw, emptied them either into her stomach or the floor before catching up to Darah and smashing every single one onto his scalp. She then hoisted Darah by his neck and tossed him onto the cage where the children cowered below.

Memories gave chase onto the cage which had holes just big enough for an arm or a leg to fit through but they were not wide enough to fit a whole body, not even a child's. She carefully balanced the sole of her feet between the steel rods and walked fearlessly towards Darah's bloodied corse.

"What happens in this cage?" she asked the Bloodied Fist.

