5455/Death And Destruction

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Death And Destruction
Date of Scene: 27 September 2018
Location: Knowhere
Synopsis: A Destroyer meets One Bad Bastiche. And the marketplace will never be the same again!
Cast of Characters: Drax, Lobo, Adam Warlock, Star-Lord




Drax has posed:
Drax didn't have any real business in the market. Things didn't matter much to Drax. But he liked the atmosphere. Diversity, sound, noise, bother - other people could keep their peace and quiet. He liked things a bit noisy. A good reminder that you were still alive. And space was so quiet. So dead. He'd tasted enough death in his life. And inflicted his share.

The green-skinned behemoth gets a wide berth from the other shoppers, bare chested and with daggers thrust through the loop of belt at his waist. He has a reputation, of course. The Destroyer, they call him. Rumor is it that he used to be even worse than he is now. This is the mellow version.

He doesn't seem very mellow.

Lobo has posed:
    Around the center of the marketplace, there was a loud commotion that had species of all types gathering around to see what was happening.

    What was happening, was the Main Man was cleaning house. All around him were dejected and demotivated various aliens, some more insectoid while others were many tendrilled, and one that looked like he'd be as big as a mountain if he wasn't slunched over and standing on all fours, with a sloped brow and tusks jutting upward, covered in plaque and saliva. Each 'contestent' had been hurling knives, darts, and any other dangerous edged weapon they could get their hands on, at a number of targets that had been set up, big thick pieces of dead plywood and similar materials, with painted 'targets' to help with accuracy.

    Out of all of them, it seemed Lobo himself stood tall, clearly the victor out of every chump. He was dressed in black leather pants and black leather vest, twirling a rather large, rather sharp and rather dangerous looking machete between his fingers, giving a snort as he looked between everyone else.

    "Ya buncha pansies, guess the Main Man wins rounds one an' two...which means all ya dweebs better cough up. 'Course I could always take some'a yer arms an' legs, as collateral?"

    They all paid. Immediately.

Drax has posed:
Drax cocks his head at the spectacle and just casually walks into the grouping, shoving a few of the lesser contestants aside. He walks up and looks at the boards closely, then looks back over his shoulder.

"What would you do with arms and legs? Do you make things out of them? They would start to stink very quickly. You look like you stink, too." he says.

Lobo has posed:
    Drax the Destroyer just walked up to Lobo the Czarnian Hate Machine, and directly insulted him. That was everyone's cue to go about their business, and make as wide a berth as possible. Several shops immediately closed for business, the owners looking up at the brewing storm and deciding that wasn't worth it, not at all.

    For his part, Lobo looks down at the approaching, green-skinned Drax and just gives a dangerous, humorless smile. The sort that bares his teeth, like a chimpanzee about to strike. His incisors big and sharp, a growl similar to a lion's but deeper in pitch made its way from the Czarnian's throat, and his own blood-red eyes were glaring hatred right at Drax's. Lobo was taller, and might have had a few extra pounds on the war machine. But he knew that didn't matter. He knew that, pound for pound, they were more even than not.

    So Lobo just gave a chuckle, raised his arms in mock surrender, and stepped aside.

    "Well y'know...does this stink?!"

    'This' being the sudden uppercut he threw, the Czarnian's big, powerful fist aimed right for the throat and chin of Drax. If this connected, this would be one of those "big boy" blows, meant to send the Guardian's Greatest Weapon flying through the air...andp robably landing on a few shop stalls in the process.

Drax has posed:
Drax does, indeed, go flying from the blow, sent end over end until he crashes headfirst into a pile of Skrull morphmelons. Drax slowly pulls himself up out of the messy pile, wiping the gooey innards of a gourd from his face.

And then he puts his head down and charges, full on, Rhino style, his chin tucked and his shoulder braced for a spear. He's a big boy in his own right, and known enough around the market that some of the locals start to scatter as the conflict breaks out. You can tell Drax isn't too pissed off yet, because he hasn't gotten out his knives.

"You did not give me long enough to smell, fool!"

Lobo has posed:
    For his part, The Main Man stood there with his arms outstretched, black-painted fingernails glistening in the solar-lamps that were provided for everyone's health, between the designated reasonable galactahours. His vest was open to reveal his bare musculature, it was clear that Lobo was a big strong guy. It was also clear that he didn't go to many gym sessions, seemingly to rely mainly on his genetic gifts to get ahead in life. It was this big midsection that Drax's shoulder collided with, causing and 'OOOMPH!' to leave the Last Czarnian's lips. There was now a big of spittle and drool across the Destroyer's shoulder and back...but his elbow was also coming down, aiming right for the back of Drax's skull and neck, repeatedly and rapidly.

    "Yeah? Well smell this, fragface!"

Drax has posed:
Drax feels the impacts hitting him roughly along the neck and shoulders. He feels like a bag of cement. Not wet cement, just the regular kind. Only in a bag. Which is kind of weird, but, then, so is Drax.

He grits his teeth as the blows rattle his skull and tries to bring his arms together to wrap around Lobo in a bear hug, attempting to lift the man up and off of his feet and see how crushing his ribcage goes. His red eyes gleam a bit and he gives something resembling a grin.

"I am! Very sweaty! Cigars! Cabbage for some reason!" he says, sniffing.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam thought it was gonna be a quiet day. He thought he was just gonna be able to buy some rations for the Milano and go back on his merry way to his meditations. But he knows something is wrong when he senses the energies of both Drax and Lobo starting to...well, get out of hand.

Thus, Adam sighs, purchasing the rations and opening a portal for them to drop into the Milano. and now, he approaches the location Drax and Lobo were duking it out. He wears his black and red robes, his crimson red eyes peeking through as he tries to see them. "Oh no." Adam mutters softly as he leans lightly against his staff.

He looked around. What did they break...

Lobo has posed:
    Two guys past the 100 ton level of strength, two mean, vicious brawlers who didn't mind to get a lot to give a little, and neither guy was wanting to give ground to the other. As Lobo's boots dug into the ground, and as Drax pushed along that same ground to gain leverage, every movement or flexing of muscle caused little aftershocks to shake and quake the man-made floors and constructed buildings, and even caused some of the old 'bones' of this entire foundation to tremor, just a little. Somewhere, the Collector was probably regretting not buying space-earthquake insurance.

    When Drax changed tact, Lobo felt himself hoisted along the waist, and lifted up into the air as the former human squeezed with powerful, Hurculean arms. He'd no doubt feel the satisfaction of several ribs slowly breaking, and feeling the Czarnian's inards slowly start to give, as if he were squeezing a tube of toothpaste from the middle. Lobo hacked up blood, coming down along his own chest, and probably nailing Drax as well...but when he looked down with those blood-red eyes of his, he seemed to have a rather wolfish grin on his face...he was enjoying this.

    "Nah, that's just my cologne, Sepulchur Fer Men. Every piece of tail from here ta Warworld is guaranteed ta love it!"

    While he was talking, he was flexing his own muscles, and Drax might feel that tube of toothpaste...filling back up? Resisting against his grasp? In any case, the Bounty Hunter had a perfect angle to grab the back of Drax's bald head with his left hand, to try and hold that target steady for the hail of meteor punches that were showering down at his cheek, jaw, nose and general face. Again, and again, and again and again.

    "C'mon, Bastiche, fight me!"

Drax has posed:
Drax takes something of a vicious battering along the face, his lip swelling up and his eyes watering as his nose starts to bleed from the assault. Where Lobo is feral and smiling, Drax is grim-faced and stoic. He's not really that into the emotions things, except for rage, but he's not really mad.

Not yet.

He shifts his arms from where they grip Lobo, grabbing him by the belt and then hefting him up and powerbombing him down on the back of his neck...five or ten times, each impact rattling the marketplace with seismic force as Drax gives a throaty howl of satisfaction at the crunching impacts.

"I am already fighting you! I thought this was obvious! You are not the most observant animal!"

Star-Lord has posed:
    A marketplace brawl where Drax is bring goaded into a fight where the Guardians get a good portion of their supplies from? That has Star-Lord coming out to deal with it. Already the Jet Boots can be heard as he flies down a corridor and into the main market area. His helmet is already on as he moves to hover a few dozen meters away, "If I may have your attention!" The helmet distortion is obvious, but his voice is clear, "please shuffle out of the marketplace the way I just came so the two trigger happy brawlers tearing up the room don't get a chance to add you to their collateral damage! Thank you!"

As he finishes speaking, Star-Lord hovers his way over to be above the two. "Oh, it's you." Star-Lord gives with a resigned tone as he sees Lobo, "we just paid a bunch of the merchants around here for some repair materials. Can you not wreck everything?" The hovering man asks, plaintively.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam was just working his way through the crowd as the marketplace brawl likely gained some attention. The resident cosmic wizard of the Guardians was just kinda trying to slide his way through. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Oh, so sorry, excuse me. Gotta...yeah, oh, uhm, excuse me." just bumping by people before his eyes see Star-Lord overhead. Good!...or bad. Peter could be dropping bets.

Either way, Adam eventually emerges from the crowd, lowering his hood. "Star-Lord." Adam might be the only Guardian who actually calls him that normally.

Either way, Adam stands casually, waiting to see if he needs to interfere. Giving a small sigh tagged with a brotherly look to Lobo. The Main Man knows that he might be in trouble.

Lobo has posed:
    "Well in cas-" SMASH "ya haven" CRASH "Ah Feetal's gizz-" KRAKA-TOW!

    Drax was absolutely manhandling and brutalizing Lobo at the minute, the Destroyer able to use that superior, absolutely incredible upper-body strength to send Lobo through the ground more, and more, and more and more. By now mostly everyone has evacuated, leaving only the die-hard few who are going to watch this fight come hell or high-water. Lobo had seen Quill around a few times, but save for their lone interaction a long time ago, they hadn't really talked. But the Czarnian hell-raiser knew that this pink-skinned little creature was supposedly in charge of these guys...which meant if he had some way of keeping a hulking idiot like the guy pummeling him in check? That meant there had to be an ace up his sleeve. To the conniving and ever-plotting Lobo, that made 'Star-Lord' a dangerous man. And a very interesting one as a result.

    He had to get this oaf off of him, however. So the next time he was hoisted up, he quickly grabbed a weapon from the back of his belt, cocking back both hammers, and waiting. The next seismic impact smashed him right into more rubble, the nearby illegal Shia'ar contraband table collapsing in on itself finally. But that meant Lobo was on the ground, his aim as steady as it could get. He aimed between his legs, both barrels of that scatterblaster pressed almost against Drax's face.

    Click. Click. Boom.

    Of course, Lobo wasn't sure if that would do more than singe Drax's nose-hairs off, so he'd take the momentary distraction to bring his legs to his chest, knees-first...and launch both booted feet at the Destroyer's groin, in a mule kick that aimed to send the man flying and away from that present conflict.

    With that, Lobo could finally sit up, wipe the blood from his nose and mouth, and look up at the crowd.

    "Hey, Adam. What's goin' on, bastiche?"

Drax has posed:
Drax does, indeed, get blasted and launched, the weapon discharging in his face and coating him with a layer of soot almost like a cartoon rabbit. He finds himself flung in the air, cradling his groin as he somersaults a few times and crashes through the roof of a cantina nearby.

There's a shattering sound of glass inside and a few multicultural swears. There's another shaking rumble as Drax stomps in frustration and, of course, pain in his cosmic cubes. There's a ruckus and then, finally, Drax slowly emerges, dragging a rowdy bystander out by his face tentacles and preparing to use him as a flail against Lobo.

"MY GENITALIA ARE INFLAMED!" he cries.

Star-Lord has posed:
    "Drax, buddy! You want to have a spar against Lobo? Fine, but don't bring the locals into it man. We already have enough to worry about with the Nova Corps." Star-Lord chides Drax. Yes, the leader of the Guardians just tried to reign in The Destroyer.

A moment later, and he looks in Adams direction, giving a two fingered salute to the magician, "Hey Warlock, what's shakin'?" Looks like Peter is here more to keep the situation from getting out of control more than stopping it.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam seems to sight lightly to Lobo. "Well, not too great a deal. Though I am worried about the locals you brought into your personal matters. We have discussed this, Lobo." Adam, as innocent and naive as he is, can still be the moral center if he needs to be. Then Drax emerges. "Oh my..."

Though he does smile happily to Star-Lord. "I do not know what is shaking. The ground?" Adam was another literal member of the crew, but he does smile. "I am well. Yourself?"

Lobo has posed:
    Lobo didn't rise to his feet right away, instead adjusting his nose, feeling the cartiledge groan and crackle, and feeling the pain fade in his back as hairline fractures along the vertabrae fused and then healed back like nothing had ever happened. Satisfied that he could move his legs again after the brutalizing he just took, the Main Man finally hopped to his feet, though it seemed he was still in a crater, somewhat looking up at the two other Guardians who were looking down.

    "That boy ain't right in the head, but he's tough as hell." He was mainly rambling aloud, partly to the two above him, partly to himself even as he suddenly leapt up like a tiger escaping a zoo enclosure. Now he was able to stand to his full height, now he was able to look down at the two other Guardians. He flashed Peter a brief, if menacing, smile, before looking over to regard Adam.

    "Well hey, technically they wuzn't involved. 'Sides, D-Boy over there wuz askin' fer it, I know when someone wants ta throw down with tha best!"

    He chuckled as he played himself up as usual, but when he heard the screaming proclamation from the Destroyer, still nursing his nether regions, Lobo's smile turned into a sneer. Slowly he put his now empty scatterblaster away, hearing it 'click' in its hover-holster before slowly unlooping that thick chain from around his arm...that hook was now hanging down, before he also started twirling it, letting it swing and sing through the air menacingly, as he started walking slowly toward Drax. He was in no rush, however, which meant other parties had more than enough time in the world to try and stop this from going on any further. But in the meantime, the Main Man could still talk a little trash.

    "Uh-oh, claybrain, didja say enflamed? Afraid there's only one cure fer that...gonna hafta hold ya down, an' amputate."

Drax has posed:
Drax looks down at the bystander in his hand at the reprimand regarding innocent bystanders. He casually throws the squidface back over his shoulder, through the second floor window of the tavern. A feminine scream can be heard from inside. "Oops."

Drax starts to stalk ahead slowly, resting his hands on the pommels of his daggers, "You couldn't lift it to cut it!" he says boldly, "Also they are...very tender...oh..." he says, stopping mid-stride and bending over, gripping his knees. "There is water in my eyes. The stinging is presistent. Like I have a sack full of stinging dragon-wasps. The big ones. Oooo...I am going to sit down," he says, grabbing the cart of a nearby fish merchant and climbing up, settling himself in the briny, chilled pile for sale.

"HEY, THAT'S MY...uh...no...no charge, big guy. Enjou yourself," the merchant says, having second thoughts when Drax turns his eyes on him mid-protest.

Star-Lord has posed:
    When the bystander gets tossed through a window, Star-Lord watches the trajectory. His hands go to one hip holstered element gun, gripping the trigger... but he isn't quite fast enough to catch them. When the scream is heard, Star-Lord just sighs, "Well, least he isn't dead." Star-Lord confirms, before he looks back to Adam, "The usual, though I'm really hoping we don't have to start getting our supplies from Kandor, at this rate." Star-Lord... only half jokes, as he casually flies over between Drax and Lobo, and lands between the two. He hasn't drawn his element guns yet at least.

"I know a great junkyard on the other side of the skull. Lots of room, lots of no people around to kill in your rampages. Let's say we head over there so the good, kind merchants don't stop doing business with us?" The 'request' is more directed towards Drax, but who knows, Lobo might want to shop here too?

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam seems to frown softly as Lobo and Drax still seem like they are raring to go. Though his attention remains on Lobo. "You didn't see people running for the hills, as it were?" he reaches out to touch Lobo's shoulder, as it to try and get him to hang on for a second. "I would listen to Star-Lord. He has a good head for these kinds of things."

A smile on his face before he moves to open a portal with his cosmic magic, giving the brawlers a gateway to walk through if they wish to continue. "Might I suggest we walk through?"

Lobo has posed:
    Lobo had closed a bit of distance, close enough to stop swinging his hook and chain and start holding it like a whip, letting it drag along the ground. But now, the situation had changed somewhat. Drax was on the ground, nursing his bouncing betties. Adam was playing good cop like he always was, trying to transport them somewhere else. Peter was inbetween the action, willing to get between an irresistable force and an immovable object...another point of interest for the Czarnian. He looked between everyone with a raised brow, and for a moment he merely stood there, arms flexing every so often with indecision.

    Then he whistled, two fingers in his mouth as a shrill harsh noise echoed throughout the marketplace. Instantly that bike of his was racing through the center, radio playing something god-awful as Lobo used the opportunity to immediately take a seat, kicking his feet back up on the handlebars as he started slowly gathering that chain of his, coiling it casually.

    "Well, we could do that, but it looks like ya boy there has had enough fer one day. An' if we kept goin', I'd feel awful guilty about havin' the Guardian's beloved bruiser as a new rug fer my apartment. So tell ya what, there's a place a few nanokilometers that way, where ya can get seven shots for a credit. Why don't we get wasted, an' see if some space-hookers can't nurse ol' flatnuts there back ta health?"

Drax has posed:
Drax furrows his brow, "Nursing would make them more flat. You would want to inflate them. But they are still around. Just sore," he says.

He pushes himself back up to his feet, wincing just a little bit. "Alchol has a numbing effect. Quill, how are the prostitutes here? You must have had a few," he says. He seems to have totally forgotten whatever beef he had with Lobo, looking almost placid as he wrings a bit of fish juice out of his trousers.

He stares at Adam for a moment, realizing at last that there's someone else there. "I don't know you. Make me your friend by buying me hookers and beer."

Star-Lord has posed:
    "I haven't been to the brothels here for a while, but there's a house that way-" Star-Lord points down a tunnel to his left, "-that has someone called the Eye of Glory. She's one of the best times I've hard on this rock." Then, Star-Lord is looking to Adam, "I'm pretty sure you can manage from here."

Star-Lord taps the control implant behind his ear, and the helmet' fades' away, back into the implant. His handsome half-human face has an honest, giant smile to it, "Good luck with him!" And off he goes flying back down the tunnel leading to the Milano's docking bay.

Adam Warlock has posed:
Adam seems to sigh very softly, looking at Drax. "I am beginning to think I might be invisible. Though, I do hear you have mastered such a skill." he smiles, before he shakes his head. "I apologize. I have no money." He really does look sorry when he gives Drax the bad news before his eyes turn to Lobo.

"That seems acceptable, Lobo." he smiles to the fellow and he seems to start walking that way. "Come, my friends."