Marc Cedan
"Kh!"The skull slammed against his coconut this time, enough to draw a splash of ichor from his forehead. The taste of iron filled his mouth, and for a second his whole field of vision became a blur. He was trying to tear himself off the shadow, but even when he damaged it, it wasn't fast enough. That's... not good. Her gloved fist came rushing for him. It was the sort of punch that could end things here and there.
PURGATORY A LISTER, YUMI HIKARI. 9 Wins, 4 Losses.
"Tch. What's that dumbass doing, getting pushed back by a small-fry like that?" A large brute of a man watched from the stands up high, arms crossed smugly as he snickered at the scene down below. With his massive frame, it was a wonder that you didn't have to look at its face, which looked like it got ripped out and plastered back with shoddy surgery.
The ape-man just chortled at the scene like a deranged drugged maniac, when someone walked by and rested his forearms on the stand, gazing down with a fascinated expression, followed by a couple others.
PURGATORY A LISTER, VEGA. 37 Wins, 29 Losses.
"Woooooah! Marc looks like he's in trouble." He smiled and looked down, avoiding eye contact with the disgusting animal. Urghhh, this freshie's getting on my nerves.
PURGATORY B LISTER, TERASHI. ? ? ? Wins, ? ? ? Losses.
Another tall, but far lankier man walked in quietly, watching with a stiff uncomfortable pose. Outside his jet black onesie, his oni mask completely masked his features. "Is it really going to be okay? I know he's been an A lister once, but this looks out of his pay grade. Should I intervene?"
Vega smiled beautifully and looked back to the man sitting in the back. "Yeah, what's your call, King?"
For a second, all fighters turned their attention to the man behind them, muscular with a perfected body - barely contained by his tank top and military sweatpants. He just sat there menacingly, arms crossed as he manspread without concern for those around him... or the man below. The terrifying presence... sighed peacefully.
PURGATORY A LISTER, LOLONG DONAIRE. 72 Wins, 3 Losses.
"She's strong, there's no doubt about that. That kind of raw power is terrifying for anyone, bridging the gap won't be easy." Lolong didn't so much as move, yet everyone got quiet all of a sudden. Only Yumi looked annoyed as hell. The only terrifying thing is how shitty this performance's getting, jackass.
Lolong stared down.
"But Marc isn't all talk either. When his back's against the wall, his explosive power and dynamism shine through. Once he's put his mind in the game, he won't give up easily."
Even with her disorienting headbutt, Marc didn't let up. He immediately guarded his temple with his forearm, swirling with a blazing red chi that spun madly. If her glove was like a destructive lance, his aura was a full plate of armor, focused on his arms to the point even her blow couldn't pierce it. Sparks shot everywhere, and using her impact's strength, he tore himself off the damaged shadow and immediately reversed his landing to regain his footing. As soon as his foot hit the ground, he used snappy footwork to zigzag back and get to her blind spot - even when the flare blocked off all his sight, he kept his guard up. He was constantly in motion, unwilling to get caught by that thing twice.
While the blood dripped from his forehead, Marc smiled.