Ah, the Darkfighter Tournament.

A site of most bizarre combat, spoken of in hushed whispers outside the pocket dimension it was held in. Rumors were flying among the spectators whenever the fighters fists weren't, and some were so frightening they had to be false, right?

Maybe.

The Clashdome was a gargantuan arena of which surprisingly little was devoted to watching the fights. There were enormous auditoriums (currently out of service due to some incident involving the Cheese Legion), monumental cafeterias, and a network of underground passageways so complex one would have to use a ball of string to find their way back, and pray they didn't meet any naked minotaur's. However, these rooms provided the least amount of talk among the slack-jawed yokels watching the fights. The appearance of Racewing and Iczel themselves backing their fighters slowly planted the germ of ideas in the populace.

Many thought the fights in the ring were just a front, a show put on to hide a deeper, darker plot set forth by beings so powerful, they were said to control every thought and action of those poor souls doomed to step into the ring.

They were known as the Writers, and their names were almost never spoken. Racewing and Iczel were known to be two themselves, but their standing in the general ladder of power was unknown.

Then, Hiro and Dai broke the mood by talking. Asses.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in just a few minutes we'll be starting a much-anticipated catfight of doom!" shouted Hiro, "In the red corner, you know her as Scantily Clad Wonder with magnetic good looks, if she can't attract your attention she'll MAKE you pay attention, MAAAARIIIIAAAAHHH!!"

Fanboys screamed and chanted the name furiously as images of Mariah flashed across several of the screens around the stands, showcasing highlights of previous non-tourney fights and showing off a few of her...um...assets.

Dai, in female form now just for the hell of it, took up where her java-blooded partner left off. "And in the blue corner, another newcomer to the tourney scene. The award-chasing reporter from Taiyo known as 'Scoop Girl', and sister to our own Dan Hibiki, Ran Hibiki."

Not having many fight pictures to show, the screens flashed with several snapshots of Ran around town, most often with her brother, or Hinata and Sakura, another competitor. The average listener would have a hard time deciding just who got more applause. "The match will be starting momentarily as the fighters get prepped, so get ready for some wild combat, folks." Dai said calmly.

"YEAH! Get ready for some hardcore, cat-scratching, hair-pulling, clothes-ripping MADNESS!" screamed Hiro.

"Clothes-ripping?" asked Dai, covering her mike. She decided not to press the issue as she analyzed the disturbed grin on Hiro's face.

And, of these writers unseen collaborating their vicious plots upon the hapless mortals, strewing death, hentai, and god knows what else at their whim... they dwell within a diabolical room inside the interweaved intestines of the Clashdome... these godly beings, all amassed in one point, speak their woefully unheard words of wisdom.

"Damn, the coffee's cold."

This chamber is anything but godly. Twenty by twenty, many wobbly tables are haphazardly scattered about, overturned crates and three-legged chairs allowing these 'Writers' to sit. Other then a disgusting green door, there is a small counter with a coffee maker and many apparently already used stacked styrofoam cups. Flickering lights are less then ample illumination for the over-a-dozen beings here.

Yet the two we focus on just happen to be the puller of strings for the next fight's participants... Lkaro the Dark, and Mike the... erm, well, he's Mike. Sitting at one of the dilapidated tables, they look at the black-and-white snowed screen giving video, but not audio, coverage of the tournament.

"Y'know, coffee's bad for you." Mike said, taking a sip from his thermos.

"And blood isn't?" Lkaro asked his vampiric companion.

"Not for me." he answered with a happy grin.

Lkaro did some type of shrugging motion. As well as an entity formed entirely of wispy black coagulated darkness can, anyway. The only thing mildly human was a white, bald head, red eyes squinting at Mike. He sipped his coffee, then spat.

"Why am I even drinking this? Not like I have a digestive system. Hrrrm, so what's it like?"

"Blood? It's like...tangy. Most bodily fluids are." Mike answered with unnerving nonchalance.

Lkaro waved his hand dismissively with a frown. "No, no! Not the blood. I'm asking what it's like to feel imminent defeat? Mariah will sweep the floor with your.... fighter."

"Nah, Ran's tough. Hinata and Sakura have been training her. They all meet at Hinata's house and she comes back a few hours later looking really tired."

"You don't say."

"Yeah. She must be quick, she never has a mark on her. She's usually dehydrated all to hell, though. Dan refuses to say anymore on it, for some odd reason."

Lkaro hrrmphed. "But Mariah has endurance training. She can keep going and going for hours without dropping. Completely exhausting for anyone on the other end! Nobody can last long under her expertise. Unrivaled in sheer, wild skill!"

Both took a sip of their respective drinks, both thinking they were actually talking about combat training, both being regarded by the universe as idiots.

"Ran'll still win."

"Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not!"

Lkaro slammed his coffee hard on the table, shadows flickering like a hellfire around him as he pointed an accusing finger. "I'm SO sure Mariah will win that... that..." he stuttered out the words, as the blackness continued to boil angrily around him.

"That you want to make a bet?"

"YES! Whoever's fighter loses has to mow the winning writers lawn in his girlfriends best dress!"

"...Okay." Sip.

"Okay!" shouted the dark being as he stormed off in a huff to get a better view of the fight. Mike sighed, getting slooowwwly to his feet and walking out towards the Hibiki's locker rooms, wishing his mother hadn't put sedatives in his blood again.

Time: 9:07 p.m.
Place: The Hibiki's room

Ran sighed, watching herself in the mirror. Her vest was on the chair next to her, pillowing her sunglasses. A small plate of hard plastic lay across the room, thrown angrily by the younger Hibiki when she discovered it laying in the back folds of her vest. Dan really was going to far too great lengths to keep her 'safe'. She was rather lucky Sakura and Hinata had been with her to help convince Dan to let her enter, as this seemed like the first time her brother's resolve would be greater than her own.

Just what happened to him when he was last here, anyway?

But no matter. Another deep breath, relax...okay, ready. She quickly slipped on the vest and sunglasses, though hardly armor they might pad a few blows sufficiently. Time to head out the door, time to face her destiny, time to wallop that magno-bitch into next week! Hyah!

Time: 9:10 p.m.
Place: Just outside the Hibiki's room.

Ran strode purposefully outside her door and towards the arena. C'mon, don't lose your cool, you can do it, Ran...visualize your victory, and it'll happen. Or something like that. Mentally, she saw the entire battle taking place, all in the span of a few seconds as she walked down the hall.

Mariah has just suffered a fatal heart attack moments after stepping into the ring! Ran Hibiki is the winner!

...well, no, maybe that wasn't right to visualize that. Ran didn't get a chance to amend the fantasy, however, as something landed with a near-silent 'thump' behind her. She turned, only to see a flash of orange before a hand was clamped over her mouth and a sweet, relaxing smell was forced down her nostrils.

No, not like this, fight back, fight back...but her limbs fell useless to her sides, and her neck no longer held back as she fell silently into the full grip of her assailant.

Dragging her back into the room to hide the sleeping body, her attacker sighed. Gilberowd was going to kill him for this.

Within a quite small washroom loomed the illustrious Mariah. The shower was running, and had been running for quite awhile, steam fogging the entire area. But a fully clothed Mariah was still glued in front of the mirror, feeling her perfect stomach with her hand while sticking it out as if on purposefully attempting to appear overweight.

Pushing open the door without so much as a knock, an extremely bored looking Lkaro drifted inside, wafting through the steam and entering the showering area entirely too casual. Also too casually, Mariah turned and noted his entrance a bit too casually as well.

Gesturing to the amorphous shadows and then her gut, she pitifully qurped out "Do these clothes make me look fat?"

Lkaro shook his head dryly. "No, I'd say its your huge ass that makes you look fat. Speaking of ass, in one minute I expect to see it and the rest of your body without fabric contacting it."

"Yeppers." Mariah quickly undressed as Lkaro impatiently waited, getting her nylon stuck. Then she stood, almost completely naked other then her undergarments. Tossing the bundle to Lkaro, he quickly morphed into a ball of blackness and then fluidly entered the clothing, reforming into an almost perfect Mariah, except with her skin a few shades too dark.

"Does this nylon and skirt always run up?" he muttered offhandedly. Mariah just shrugged, glancing about curiously. Fishing inside the skirt pocket, he pulled out ten dollars of Mariah's own money and tossed it to her.

"Here's ten bucks. Scram." In a burst of superwomen speed she absconded, door slamming shut. The entity of shadows sighed, shaking his head. "Too easy." Glancing into the mirror, he tilted his head to the side and then rubs his stomach.

"Hrrm. The clothes DO make me look fat...."

"HERE THEY COME!" shouted Hiro into his mike, deafening thousands of ears at once. "Stepping into the blue corner, the iron-willed reporter of Taiyo, Japan, RAN HIBIKI!"

'Ran' stepped nervously into the ring, being very careful not to let the skirt fly up by jumping. The last thing the poor girl in her dressing room closet needed were some nasty rumors about her anatomy being spread. Mike looked at the cheering crowed, tinted orange by the oversized sunglasses he now wore, hoping they wouldn't pay much mind to Ran's ponytail being replaced with a large green bandanna.

"Hiro..." Dai said, "do you get the feeling she looks somehow...different?" she sighed in resignation and dropped the subject as she realized poor Hiro was still drooling as he waited for the other fighter.

There were an abrupt explosion of fireworks at the other side of the Clashdome, as sparkling strobe lights and wailing screamers lit it up. The crowd stood screaming and whistling, jubilant faces chucking whatever was handy in glee, hoping to get the honor of beaning Mariah in the head with one of the items THEY themselves touched.

Hiro's drooling increased a few notches as he pointed towards the entering opponent. "AND FINALLY, HERE'S THE MAGNETIC WONDER HERSELF, MARIAH!!!" he screamed into the mike as the crowd still roared and popcans rained from the heavens in a holy apocalypse of dew and pepper-related might.

Dai curiously looked towards 'Mariah' with squinting eyes. "She looks a bit... bigger today." the calm female muttered, as 'Mariah' strode out, peace signs flashed into the air. The crimson robe flowed around her as she beamed a smile, and indeed she looked a bit over padded.

Mike's mind felt a bit muddled, despite the sedatives losing their effects. How was this supposed to go? What would Ran do? Um....of course! JUSTICE! Pointing in a very as authorative a manner as possible, and raising his voice as high as it could go, the vampire said "You! Miscreant of injustice! Your tactics of distraction using your physical assets will be tolerated no more! In the name of the Soul Ea...er, of JUSTICE and JOURNALISM, I, Ran Hibiki, will punish you!"

The boy sighed. He was never going to live this down.

'Mariah' spread her stance, an unseen gust of wind billowing the red mantle around her. Pushing away a stray lock of silver hair, she slid a finger across her neck.

"FOOLISH MORTAL! BY THE POWERS OF THE NINE HELLS I SHALL SHRED THE FLESH FROM YOUR PATHETIC BONES AND FLING THE REMNANTS INTO THE WIND!!!!"

'Ran' was damn tempted to ask for her to repeat that so he could take notes. The voice was deep and powerful, echoing around the now abruptly quiet Clashdome. Hiro was speechless, and Dai blinked a few times, slowly picking up the microphone.

"...pardon?" she asks dully.

The-writer-formerly-known-as-Lkaro blanched, sheepishly grinning. Coughing, and pulling out a small vial which he sprayed into his mouth, he sang a few octaves of notes then took a deep breath.

"I will smite you! My assets are invincible and oh so big!" he shrilled, and the crowd started cheering again, obliviously forgetting everything after hearing about large assets.

Mike was secretly glad Ran dressed so conservatively, for fear he may have had to improvise some assets of his own. But enough mental babble! Time for ACTION!

Taking the direct approach, Mike took off full-tilt towards the Mariah-alike before him, going into a wild tackle that took both of them down into a roll, which promptly ended as he threw the dark-skinned impersonator at the turnbuckle.

'Mariah' spiraled through the air, and *thunked* into the turnbuckle. The cords quivered around as they slumped to the ground in a ball of red clothing. Standing up almost immediately, she brushed herself off. Hissing in a catlike-stance, she rushes towards this Mike McRan, apparently intent in some eye-gouging or two.

The blue-skirted boy flailed helplessly at the incoming claw-fingers. Being trained primarily in weapons-based combat, his hand-to-hand skills were falling to this impersonator who seemed much more skilled.

"And Ran is on the run as the magnetic Mariah goes for her eyes! Ouch! She got a hit!" announced Hiro.

"...why did a bucket just appear over Ran's head?" asked Dai. "And why did a little white '50' just jump off of her head as well?"

No one seemed to be listening to her, though, as the bucket-headed-reporter-imposter grabbed for the camera hanging around his neck, and began firing off blasts of megawatt powered light towards the sounds of his opponent, craning his neck to try and see under the bucket which was wrapped around his skull far too tightly to be easily removed.

A flash of light struck Lkaro in the face. Being an entity of pure, unabated darkness, megawatt lights tend to hurt a bit. He snarls, stumbling backwards confused and disoriented almost as much as Mike was. He managed an awkward spin kick, vicious high-heel boot connecting with the side of the bucket. There was quite a clang as it dented noticeably, the dark doppleganger spinning awkwardly and falling back over still rubbing his eyes.

Due to the small amount of empty space inside the bucket, the ringing didn't even last a second, despite making 'Ran's head throb like a throbby thing. Ah ha! And now, with 'Mariah' fallen to the ground, he could see the red-clad one beneath the upturned bucket's top! Lucky!

A hard kick to the gut was quickly followed by an elbow drop to the ribs, at the end of which Mike straddled his enemies stomach. Taking the dark ones hair in his hands, he slammed his armored noggin into Lkaro's again and again, the pain building up in his head surely being nothing to the agony of his opponent.

Elsewhere...

A man with slicked blond hair and dressed in a red cloak meandered down the halls to the Hibiki's dressing room. The fight had already begun, so surely there would be no one around...holding his breath, he shakily turned the knob and stepped inside.

Ah, the temporary lair of Ran Hibiki, the goddess of all things divine. This brush, which surely brushed the long, ebony gold of her precious locks, sat like a holy symbol on the dresser. The mirror would be the center of a holy shrine in a far-off land for having beheld her beauty so many times. And this chair...well, she had to have sit in it, so it must be good.

To bask in the glow of divinity...but what was that muffled sound coming from the closet? Well, a simple enough question to answer.

Walk walk walk. Turn, open.

"Ran!?"

"Gilberowd!? Get me out of here!"

*CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG*

My, that was beginning to sting a bit. Lkaro was having a bit of trouble concentrating while a large chunk of metal was being slugged into his face after all. And this whole charade was embarrassing as it is. Before Mike's head could once again slam into his...

*WHOOOOOOOOMPHHHHHHH*

A shattering blast of black lightning flew up into the air, the sun blotting out under a wave of darkness. The entire crowd stopped its screaming, once again blinking confused. 'Ran' tumbled head over heels away, striking the turnbuckle with horrendous force. Mariah-Teratan stood up, straightening his shirt and rubbing at his head.

"I broke a nail." he hissed. Hiro and Dai were now mighty confused, but still tried to announce the fight. "Umm.. and Mariah used her... dark blowup attack!" Hiro said with less then excessive emotion.

Pain flew threw the vampire boy's body as the lightning tore his metallic sight-hindrance asunder. With his hair smoking faintly, he fumbled around inside Ran's vest for something to aid him, lest he fall in defeat. His eyes widened in delight as he pulled out the possible key to his salvation!

The crowd blinked. Why was Ran scarfing a taco in the middle of a fight?

"TOASTY!!!" announced a bathmaker in the audience as steam began to fly from the boy's neck. With small green number 5's bouncing out of his head every few seconds, Mike tore off towards Lkaro with superhuman speed, intent on draining the creature of whatever it used for blood to finish this before their charade was discovered.

"And with what appears to be the, uh...Taco of 5, Ran's back in the fight." Dai said uncertainly.

'Mariah' made a few motions with her hands, the crimson cloak flowing around her hypnotically. Wisps of black shade morphed around in front of Mike as he charged forward, and suddenly a skeletal hand ripped up from the ground and grasp his ankle.

Forward, Mike fell. Thump, went his head. Another undead sprouted from both sides, green and cancerous in appearance as they lifted up Mike in all his cross-dressed glory, pinning his arms to the side as Lkaro slowly walked forward.

Dai coughed a few times slowly. "And... Mariah used her patented raising-the-dead attack..."

"Time to finish this, spawn of Mike!" Lkaro jeered, putting his palms against 'Ran's chest over thankfully minor assets. With a flare of blackness yet again, there was yet another explosion, breaking the zombies apart like toenail clippings and sending the girl flying yet again backwards like cheese dip. Then he charged forward as 'Ran' bounced off the rubber robes of the ring, and clotheslined him full force as she returned before panting deeply.

Hiro seemed to be getting adjusted to the insanity. "And Mariah blasts her good, following with a clothesline!! This is great for so early in the fight!" The crowd seems to be warmed over as well, going back to it's cheers as a large white 412 rose from the prone fighter.

Miraculously, one last five popped over the head of the fallen one as the steam died away, and he struggled slowly to his feet. "You want to play like that, do you?" he asked slowly, "Fine."

The boy's left hand glowed an ethereal gold color as it was lifted to the heavens, then degraded into a shining purple and black as it the hand was shoved downward towards the pits of Hell. Black spindles of energy lanced forth from the hand, bouncing along the canvas of the ring like stones in the water. They homed in on Mariah Teratan, the object now of Mike McRan's obsession for the win.

As the first spindle passed her leg, a shining violet blade pierced out from under the canvas, doing no damage to the mat itself, but drawing a tiny drop of blood from the dark impersonator, who yelped in surprise. He was quick to hop around as another five blades passed by and encircled him, spreading more drops around him. When all was finished, 6 grave images of Death appeared around the startled creature of darkness, and began to spin quickly around her, chanting in a forgotten language. A shining purple pentagram was drawn between the figures, with 'Mariah' in the middle. When it was complete, the figures shot upwards to the ceiling, passing through it like the ghosts they were. Following them was a white-hot spiral of energy emitted from the pentagrams border, and Mike smiled as he waited to hear the scream of his opponent.

And scream he did, but not like he expected.

"Ran...death...screw attack?" Hiro babbled, wondering once again what the bloody hell was going on.

Mariah's scream was one less of pain then expected. Energy crackled around him, and he seemed to bulk up noticeably as the crimson mantle burst into flames. Discarding the clothing with the wave of a hand, Lkariah narrowed his eyes in triumph.

"Mike! I had no idea you would so rampantly cheat against me! Have you no honor? That attack could have killed Mariah!" He made no mention of the fact that the attack of darkness only managed to fully rejuvenate the black entity.

Mike could only stare goggle-eyed at his opponent. Judgment, the supreme magical spell of death available to the Soul Eater, had failed?

"...is this the end of Zombie Shakespeare?" the mind-numbed vampire asked of no one in particular.

Lkaro flexed his muscles. Pah, Mike was indeed adept at wielding the dark energy spells. But Lkaro WAS made of dark energy! Foolish oversight. With a snap of his hand, a ball of twisting blackness slowly formed. "Let's see if your as resistant to death magic as I am." he muttered with a smirk, pressing down his skirt one last time and adjusting his chest. This was not as appealing as it looked, especially the 'Ooooos' when he 'reformatted'. Another snap, and two spiraling discs of gray energy flew towards Mike, each sharp enough to split the thick head of Dan Hibiki in half like cheap concrete. In other words, it'd hurt muchly.

And it certainly looked like they would hurt, and it would have continued to look like that had Mike not suddenly been knocked to the ground and pinned there by two boney knees digging into his back.

"Here's my Monday best!" hollered a new, yet familiar voice as Mike felt the camera ripped from his neck, "PROTOOOON CAMERA!"

Two blinding flashes later, the disks were no more, and the crowd was gasping collectively as they saw not one, but two Ran Hibiki's in the ring.

"What the...!? Another Ran?" a surprised Dai gasped. "I thought we sealed off the cloning machines!"

Cloning machines or no, Mike could only giggle helplessly before the furious gaze of the actual Ran. Even that was cut short as Gilberowd jumped into the ring and dug the end of his sword into the canvas mere inches from Mike's face. This...was not good.

Lkaro-as-Mariah blinked, glancing left and right. Sloooowly and surely, he began to back away as the fury of Gilberowd and Ran where focused on Mike. Hopefully, his opponent's lack of foresight and utter idiocy would make him able to escape all the easier. Murmurs were still going through the crowds as Dai was leafing through a notebook furiously, Hiro still exuberant. "TWO RANS INDEED! AND SOME... GUY WITH A SWORD! WHAT A CRAAAAAAAZY FIGHT FOLKS! ALL THIS AND MORE FROM OUR SPONSORS, IMAWANO RAVIOLI! FROM THE MAN WITH THE DIAMOND SOUL!"

Ever vigilant in her announcing duties, Dai kept announcing as well. "Folks, while we try to sort this out, let's give big applause to Gilberowd in the ring, founder of the Darkfighter Tournament. Many of you may have seen the first one held in Rome a few years back."

Muffled applause went back and forth while the red-coated one dragged the false Ran out of the ring. "Oooh, when we get back to the Guild, Papa Smurf's never letting you come here again, no way in eight pickled herrings of Venus!" Mike just sighed as Ran stayed in the ring, determined to fight. Her determination was cut short as Dai interrupted again.

"Um...seeing as how a seemingly new Ran has stepped in, and this is not a tag-team style match, I'm afraid I have to announce a disqualification on Ran's side. Mariah wins by default."

Lkaro continued to back up, but abruptly a fan leapt over the stand hooting. The crowd was flabbergastedly exhilarated at Mariah's win, an equal number booing as well at Ran's fault. Half of the crowd wanting to kill him, the other half do things making him wish he was dead, he only could do one thing to stop this, and end the insanity. The only reasonable thing to do to stop a bunch of hormonal people from maiming/killing/yadda who they thought was Mariah was, of course...

"I'LL KILL YOU! KILL YOU ALL!" Lkaro snarled, preparing to blast them all into submission. But, alas, they tackled him quite well, and pinned under the writhing flesh he did the much more intelligent thing he should have done. With a pop, he turned back into his normal, pasty-black form. The people recoiled as if they touched something icky-nasty, and everyone was now confused.

*FLASH*

Lkaro blinked confused at the ring, where a giggling Ran was looking at a newly taken photo. Of Lkaro still dressed in Mariah's oh so skimpy clothing. Screaming in annoyance, he poofed away in a spurt of darkness, leaving the clothes sitting behind.

Dai blinked ever so slowly. None of the crowd uttered a word, one poking at the left-behind lump of clothing. Slowly, ever so slowly, Dai bent her head to the mike and mouthed out wordless speech. Then said...

"... .... Um, as we said. Mariah is the winner..." she simply uttered, not wanting to touch what just happened with a ten foot pole. The crowd cheered again, lifting up Mariah's clothes and parading it around as if she were really in them, all gleefully forgetting the disturbing event that just happened.

Mariah skipped joyfully back into the Clashdome, licking at a vanilla ice cream cone. There were cheers and boos coming from the arena, and she curiously headed out to the wrestling mat, eyes searching about for the cause of the noise.

"MARIAH IS THE WINNER!" Hiro said.

The magnetic girl cheered, bouncing up and down happily. Whoo! These tournaments WERE a pushover! All that mental training had worked. She reminisced slightly of a thought of her standing victorious, the words 'Mariah wins! Ran had a fatal heart attack moments before entering the ring!' echoing within.

The crowd was mighty speechless as she stood there. After a bit, she looked down. "Oh... I forgot to put on clothes..." Still no response from the audience. "...no wonder I go the icecream for free." Finally, a sound echoes. The sound of a facepalm hit by hundreds of people at once.

The Clashdome, home to the Darkfighter Tournament.

A site of most bizarre combat indeed.