Episode 137 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“When I was young, kids tried to get the best of me. So I turned to my dad. He put his arm around me and said ‘Uh-huh! Here’s a can of whoop ass. Go open it on those sorry sonsabitches’.” Stone Cold Steve Austin, Wrestlemania 23 The sound of five knights joining the battle was lost inside the dance club’s music. As Alan led the charge to the battle, he was stopped as Roland and Ledger tossed a Red knight at him. The leader ducked under the flying body, not bothering to look back as it stalled the others. With cutlass in hand, he threw himself into the fray with abandon. The first blade he met was Edgar’s. A new silence descended as the two knights distanced themselves from the others and began to circle one another. Alan backed away from the war, Edgar following him. Around the two, the other Red knights joined the battle, leaving them in their own duel. Edgar lowered his saber’s blade towards Alan, the tip just an inch from the floor. He kept his left hand over his torso as he watched Alan’s reaction. Twirling his heavier cutlass in his hand, Alan steadied his grip. Keeping his left hand defensively forward, he lowered the cutlass blade to run perpendicular to the floor, his hand cocked at his waist. Edgar and he stared for a moment, playing out in their minds the battle that was about to ensue. Alan swung forward from his shoulder, moving to slice Edgar’s head off with one stroke. The older knight stepped back, letting the blade pass close by before reposting with a quick snap of his wrist. His saber’s blade sliced Alan’s jacket but did no damage to him. Alan reversed his slash, hacking deep at Edgar. He was forced to leap back and Alan lunged at him. Edgar swept the attack away and moved in, punching at Alan with his left palm. Alan blocked the strike and punched Edgar in the side with his hand guard, causing him to shout in pain. Alan followed with a slash, but Edgar slipped nimbly around it, slicing at Alan’s ear, nicking him harmlessly. Ryoko sprinted up the stairs as Alan was engaged and leapt at Ledger. “Incoming!” Roland yelled, the two knights leaping back from the attacking dame. Ryoko hacked at Ledger, forcing him to roll out of the way. Roland disengaged from the Red knight he was facing to slash at Ryoko. She blocked the strike with her katana, then used the attack to jab her blade the other way at Ledger’s face. He backpedaled several steps, aiming his shotgun. Ryoko spun around Roland, putting him between her and Ledger. Facing two knights, Roland locked the first’s sword, only to get slashed by Ryoko. Ignoring the pain, he released his sword and grabbed her head, pulling it down while he brought his right knee up. Before it could connect, she caught his leg and pinned it to her body. Using unbridled power, she stood up and over, flipping Roland over her body and slamming him down onto the stairs. Ryoko got up, the dazed and bleeding Roland at her feet. She held up her katana, only to get kicked in the back by Ledger. She hit the ground at the base of the stairs and rolled up to her feet, Ledger moving in. She swung at him with her katana, but he slipped around it, slapping her in the side with his palm. He moved to follow with an elbow to her face, but she blocked it with the rear of her sword, letting his bone meet metal. She punched his kidney and kicked the back of his leg, taking him off his feet. Roland was at her throat in a flash. He lunged at her and she stepped to the side, slicing at his hands. He slid his blade around hers and cut up the arm of her trench coat, slicing it open and drawing a tiny line of red blood along her powerful forearm. She reached forward and trapped his arms against her body and kneed him in the side. She reached across his face with her sword hand and pinned his head with the handle of her katana, forcing him to lean into the motion as she kneed again. Matt arrived to the middle of the fight as Armand shoved a knight away. He turned as Matt took out his big sword, spinning it around his body. Behind Armand, Donovan saw Matt standing ready and grinned. “You want the little bite, or me?” Donovan asked to Matt. “Both,” Matt answered confidently. Armand smacked him upside the head with a kick so fast, it barely registered in the flashing lights of the club. Matt stumbled back, utterly taken by surprise. “What the hell was that?!” “Did you miss it?” Armand asked with mock sympathy, holding Ulysses ready. “Don’t worry. There’s a whole lot more where that came from.” Dante ran around the fight, his eye on Everett. In the middle of the fray, the leader of the Blue knights had surrounded himself with Red knights and was mercilessly taking them to task. Dante surveyed the area, unable to see an easy way to enter into the fray before his eyes settled on Marilyn. Moving around Everett like a guardian angel, the Crimson Rose kept out of sight, interfering just enough to keep the mass of Red knights off-balance and unable to bring their full might to bear. Dante watched as she reached in, hacking one in the back of the knee with her tonfa, making him turn towards her. As he did, Everett caught him in the back with a powerful kick, knocking him forward on the steps and nearly off his feet. As Marilyn stepped back from the rumble, remaining on the top of the stairs, Dante moved in. He swung at her with his katana, getting frantically blocked by her tonfa. Metal struck metal and Marilyn was thrown back from the impact. She reached to her side, drawing her rapier, fearfully backing away from Dante as he crowded her at the top of the stairs. Dante shook his head. “Oh, I’m disappointed that…” Sydney caught him in the back of the knee with a shin kick that nearly took his whole leg off. Dante howled in agony as he fell to the ground, holding his leg. He looked up, only to have Sydney kneel down on his chest, pinning him to the floor. She drew back with her fist, the blade of her short sword running down from her hand like an ice pick, and punched him in the face. The loaded blow caused his nose to rupture, spraying blood over both of them. Marilyn watched as Sydney started to stand, only to be grabbed from behind. The vigilante screamed as Eliot shoved her into the wall, driving her helmet against the hard surface. “Hello, little flower,” he whispered into her helmet. “Gotten in over your head?” Inside her helmet, Marilyn closed her eyes, preparing for agony. She reached up to her head, touching the thin strip of metal running along the ridge of her glove to her helmet and she activated the electrical current. She screamed in pain as Eliot yelped, yanking his hand away from her. He shook his numb hand and turned, just in time to see Sydney’s foot. The kick knocked him off his feet and against the wall. Before he had time to land, Sydney stabbed at him with her short swords. He barely had enough time to catch her hand with both of his, the blade coming within an inch of his stomach. He looked fearfully at her and Sydney punched him in the face with her other sword-wielding hand. The blow knocked him from the wall and Sydney kicked his foot, knocking him to his back. She turned and looked at Marilyn as the vigilante groggily got to her feet. Sydney turned back to Eliot as he got to his feet, a bloodthirsty look in his eyes. “Oh, that is going to cost you, dame,” he said with a seething fury. “Bring it on, midget,” she retorted, holding her swords ready. As the two knights assaulted one another, Marilyn drew herself up slowly, her senses in agony. Panting harshly, she pulled the helmet off, the air inside the club feeling fresh and cool compared to the electrically fried air inside her mask. She gasped, her vision and her hearing in utter disarray. She looked around, her sight nothing but a mash of conflicting colors. She fell against the wall, barely able to breathe. Dante stepped before her. Towering over the woman, he smirked. “You seem to have a certain knack for getting in over your head, in the worst possible places.” He touched his sword blade to her chin, the sensation registering through her flash-burned eyes and ringing ears. “The law I know,” he began with a sick pride. Everett slashed him against the back of the neck with Sunstorm, causing blood to pour down his back. Dante yelled and fell to the side, holding his neck. “You need to learn when to shut up, you son of a bitch.” He kicked Dante viciously in the side, knocking him into the wall. Everett spun around, intuitively blocking a Red knight’s attack and slashed at his face. The knight retreated and Everett came over to Marilyn, helping her to her feet. “You okay?” he asked. She stared blankly at nothing. Everett put his hand against her cheek. After a split second, she suddenly looked hopeful and grabbed onto his hand. Everett squeezed her fingers supportively and turned around as Dante got to his feet. He stood defensively in front of Marilyn, guarding her from the fight on the steps. “I find a certain level of appropriateness that you’re going to die protecting a woman,” Dante said, his slick hands red with his own blood. “Especially that woman.” “What did I say about shutting up?” Everett said. “Now get your ass over here.” Dante grinned. “Whatever you say.” He swung at Everett, their swords meeting in mid-slash. Everett lunged at Dante, forcing him back. Conservatively following, Everett slashed at his chest, forcing Dante back further. The Red knight riposted with a quick lunge and followed it with a lightning-fast slice, but Everett simply wasn’t there. Punching Dante in the back of the head, Everett shoved him off balance and sent him crashing down the steps. He glanced back at Marilyn to make sure she was okay, only to have Dante leap back at him, tackling him into the wall.
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