SkevilSkevil WhisperSkevil Whisper: *Sonny Wyatt, aka Volo (shortened from Diavolo, his alias name), stood amongst the darkened sky. Seemingly being mixed with a death black and dark gray coloring that swirled about the sky above him. The air clearly showed promise of a bad storm that would soon unleash the wrath of hell down upon the ground, situated just within the errie woods of Salem, Mass. Home to the Wyatt Family of course. A sadistic, brutal and barbaric, psychopathic ridden family, always having the copper coated taste of blood lingering within their mouths. Simply a serial killer's paradise. The breeze was heavy with the approaching storm overhead, leaving the chill factor to be rather nice, considering fall was just now making it's way around. Standing a staggering six foot six, two hundred and sixty five pounds, Volo walked from his left to his right and back again, pacing with a fueling passion for a kill on this given day. His red mohawk spiked, mixed with black streaks, the grayish pale appearance of his flesh, cut in and formed from the muscular structure laying just beneath his skin. Horror scene tattoos playing in full sleeves over his arms, lower, mid and upper. Only leaving from his waist down covered by his signature stylish Dickies, and Black Air Force One sneakers upon his feet. PVC materialed bands wrapped around both arms, laying ontop of his tattoos. Piercings of stainless steel quality in his ears (plugs) and a lebre chin spike, just beneath his bottom lip. His bright sky blue hues, darting from left to right, while figeting with his unholy cross fashioned, metal bracelet that sit fitted for his right wrist, while the leather braclet on his left wrist, holding locket charm and trinkets occupied his left wrist. A motorcycle chain choker around his neck, with a special someone's heart, chained around his neck to simulate her heart beating for his existance. Wearing his full fingered skeleton hand styled leather gloves, Volo was sure to allow his left hand to run flat, with fingers spread apart, through the contents of his hair roughly, ending his fidgeting of his jewelry. Strung out on next to no sleep, Volo surely showed his signs of having awakened on the wrong side of the bed, on the given day. The Wyatt Family property in which he stood on today, couldn't be found by simply stumbling upon, or even the location of the trail that led one to the front gate. The only knowledgable way that one could happen to stumble upon the location, had been by luck, once stumbling out of the vast amount of woods covering the area, off the beaten path of the main road. Very few entered, none have never left, or so rumors speculate by the locals. Now, Volo begin feeling slight rain drops splash down to a sudden death upon the tops of his shoulders along with his head. It's wouldn't be long now till the sky cut lose.*

istupidity: "That moron, leaving me out here like this I'll kill him next time I see him." It's been a while sense he's been out and about, maybe this is a little redemption or punishment for being a bit of a dumb-ass due to the trouble he's gotten into the past. Who knows? His nose scrunched in disgust, while his lips curled dangerously, shaking his head from left to right, while his hairs stood up from the back of his neck causing him to shudder in anticipation. This environment led to opportunity, there's a series of things that could happen here because the juvenile understands that consequence of him slipping up, it could be extremely costly, specially in these parts. A deep breath escapes his lips, while his dark brown orbs move around the woods, making sure to check his sense of direction knowing full well what happened having been moving around for the past hour..."Crap!"He's lost, that's for sure maybe now he'll start paying attention to the people who lived around here, he's just passing through though, his main goal is to get to a certain part of Boston to review his application for a Job that's been up on offer for a while now, so he's going to enjoy every second of that shit once he goes there. "Can today get any-worse?" Looking up towards the heavens a frown forms on his lips, causing his big dark brown orbs to sink in almost utter despair, seeing that he's going to need shelter and quickly. James O'Brien Baker, for a black person, whose ancestors navigated jungles, rivers, shit like that you'd think he'd have a sense of direction. Nope!He stands at an average height of 5 foot 5. a smooth baby faced appearance, which carries a feint trace of a mustache to go with his a set of thin side burns and absolutely no trace of a beard. Honestly it gives his dark brown orbs a more innocent look, more so used to this advantage rather than just leave it there. Now the last time he weighed himself in the male was around 160lbs, having a lean build to go with his diminutive stature he'd make sure he's able to back that up properly. He spent years training, his size definitely isn't a disadvantage able to bench 220, and leg press three times his weight being able to hold at least half of ton. For a 23 year old, that wasn't too half bad as he's trained in three primary styles, Capoeria, Muy Thai and boxing making sure to learn to defend himself at a very early age. He's wearing no shirt, showing off his toned appearance and marked skin having a series of tattoo's, one on his neck, then two going down his arms, covering his arms completely down to his wrist. The male is wearing a set of black Dickies jeans pants, having a set of black & White Jordan's to go with it, in his pocket well his back pocket is a standard Becker Combat Bowie that has a blade length of lade 9.25" and an overall length of 14.75 inches, he made sure to come prepared wherever he's going his gun is at home though, it could be a problem later as he came to a clearing. " Odd, maybe someones home?" He noticed a dude, well maybe this person could help him. " OI, You Giant fuck. Mind telling me where i am?I'd like to get the fuck outta here, i've got things to do, people to fuck. So help would be nice." He stood 10 feet back of the male, he seemed like a big dude, so some distance between them would be nice, this is gonna be interesting, keeping on his toes while awaiting a response from the other male, wanting to see what happens next.
OrderOfGashes: The rack turned again, its chains shrieking almost as loud as the victim it was being used upon. Blood rusted the turning mechanism causing the binds attached to the arms and legs of the Victim to bite into their flesh every slight movement ripping open the old scars on their flesh. The turning mechanism strained to deal with the mass of the force exerted to maintain the needed torque. A limb tears slightly releasing the precious liquids lying within. In a decadent splash it cascades its way out across the foreboding floor of the area. A loud grinding is heard as another notch was turned on the calibrator. The sounds of bones breaking was quickly filling the air as the force from the rack dislodged joints and bones, torn ligaments, dismembering. Though it was effective it was a rather slow means of getting the informations That he needed. “See, with most people in your situation; you're told If you tell me what I want the pain will stop,” He laughs at this statement in a hysteric manner. “But if you tell me what I want to know, Nothing will change, you will still be killed just as slowly just as painfully. So, lets see you kick.” He releases the hold mechanism on the rack causing his victims body to go slack. “Tell me where The shadow door is.” He demands. The victim just laughs and spits at him, to which he simply takes a dagger off his hip cuts about five millimeters off the tip of his victims middle finger, thus exerting a scream from the victim. “How about now?” The victim flips him off with the cut middle finger. “Oh my this is going to be so much fun.” He does the same to the remainder of the victim’s fingers. “So the Shadow door? You know I enjoy this, so why don’t you let me enjoy this more and tell me where it is so at least one of us can enjoy this torture.” The victim responds with a “That tickled. Are you going to suck my cock next?” The man laughs at the cheeky bastard he was torturing. There was no denying he was getting aroused from this, “Hold that thought,” was his answer before he vanished for a moment. He returns with an electric generator, and ten nails of pure gold. He holds the nails in his hands and smiles. “Time for when the fun begins.” He drives the golden nails into the center of the bones of the victim's finger stumps. Once all ten had be done in such a way he turns on the generator and begins connecting the nails to the generator. The electric current jumps up the victim's arms lighting the skin of his hands on fire. The man laughs as his victims starts convulsing and screaming. Once his victims eyes started to swell he stopped the generator. “The shadow Door!?” He demands again. this time his victim gave an answer. “Inside of my mind.” The man laughs. “Obviously, I mean I could just drink your fucking blood and read your fucking mind, but that takes all the fun out of breaking people you know what I mean?” The man walks over to the head of the Victim and with a single swipe rips its left eye ball out of its socket. He drops a ball of sugar honey and some cheese in it. It would quickly deteriorate and rot and as it does so attract infestation. since his victim was bound down it would not be able to escape or even move its head to make it fall out. The man then flays the skin off his victim's chest before leaving to go watch the spar occurring a mere thirty or so feet away as he would watch he begins stitching his vicitms flesh over a wound he had on his chest. a smile on his face. He seemed like a nice enough person.

Skevil: * Volo's hand slid the few inches left of his black and red mohawk. He'd really not had a clue of what was to happen on this given day. Wasn't expecting the rain and wasn't really feeling the mood of having anyone around. The ground beneath his feet, acted as if it hadn't seen rain in ages. In fact, it needed it and this was clearly obvious. The drops now, had gone from slight drizzle, to a full on drop, as the rain started to beat harder down to the surface of the ground. The utter sounds of a younger male directing a statement towards Volo, caused him to jump started, and really set his temper off instantly. One thing of being a Wyatt, they really weren't social people and when they were around, or speaking, they weren't always the nicest of people. For some stranger to stumble upon their property, that was grounds for almost sudden death. A few things around these parts, the locals tended to forget. Wyatts were home grown and backwoods bred. Meaning, nobody or anything stepped upon their land without consequences to follow. Volo's blue hues now turning a light grayish grin, narrowed in his brows, while the right side of his lip raised up, exposing the sharpened kanine tooth to the corner. See now, each Wyatt had their own specialty. Opie was barabic, Remy a bit slient but brutal when pushed to her point. Lynette the peace maker/kill-a-bitch with the flip of a light switch. Then there was Sonny. Your darker sadistic killer. Would not think twice of taking your life, and doing it in his own fashion that entertained him the most. Seeing that the male had left roughly ten feet between them, Volo, planting his right foot of to his right, while piveting off the toes of his left foot, walked towards the front of the chain linked fencing, while slowly sliding off a 3x12inch chain with a heavy duty master lock, clicked closed on the ending loop. Giving it a firm wrap around the massive, beaten and battered structure of his left hand, he'd allow it to dangle freely while his strides towards the male, happened to be wide, steady and slow. His gaze now fixed with the strangers, not so much as thinking to blink heavily and never leaving his attention. Volo had years of fighting experience under his belt in the twenty eight years of his life. Prison fights, gang fights, street brawls that left people dismembered in ways to horrid for bedtime stories. Simply to say, Volo wasn't your typical everyday human being. His dominance being left handed but could end up throwing a right hand just as fast, but without the cutting edge qualities of his left hand. His stature played a weakness to him, being that of a bigger guy, kept him just a bit slower then the average, but on the positive factor, his tolerance to pain was very high and his hits made a statement and hard one. Now standing just a mere six inches from the stranger, his blue hues directed themselves to the brown orbs of the male, while not a single cave of his chest from a breathe was seen, and his facial expression remained a cold, sadistic feature. "Your not welcomed here. I don't so much as care for your questions, the best thing for you to do, is turn around with an about face, and march your purdy little ass back to where ever it is you came from before you end up getting hurt boy." Volo's left arm welding the chain, only twitched and shook a bit, waiting for any given reason to bring hellfire and brimstone upon this individual that had surfaced on his property.*

istupidity: He was off to meet some nigga named Ronald?Business about being for hire or some shit, usually something like this could lead to more unsuspecting "Circumstances." He needed to stop getting into trouble but, honestly the shit just kept finding him. It's been a while sense he's gotten into any sort of combative trouble with his craving for chaos growing by the second, he absolutely had the urge to feel someone gasping for air, trembling under the pressure of his firm grip. Examining the male as if he was some hot blonde, his eyes never left his opponent not for a second, he's not going to let him get anywhere near him if they got close enough for him to grapple him or anything of the sort well it'll be over quickly for him. He's going to make sure to keep his distance or just keep out of the line of fire, disabling him for right now is the main priority in this case is to get out of line of a potential attack so now he needed to prepare carefully. He shuffled backward however his movement and positioning is a little different in-terms of feet placement, his legs spread shoulder length apart while being completely on his toes, it helps due to his combative experience, being mainly street fights, confrontational throw downs with happy go lucky bikers or idiot men in suits, which in all honesty just shrouded stupidity. His right hand comes up to guard his chin, three inches away from it. However due to the type of weapon the male had, he opted to go for a more open palm defense and tuck his neck into his shoulders bringing his left hand a few inches more away from his chin, slightly keeping on his toes. He's going to use the clock as his axis for his attacks, it's gonna be simple, fun effective while keeping back tracking trying to keep the distance around 3-4 feet, after four steps he moved to the left, keeping his space to that distance. He doesn't act like he looks, that'd be dumb because his eyes narrow immediately scanning different weak-points to hit his potential opponent from, temple, between the eyes, neck, back of the legs, he knew where to operate to get a good shot however he wanted to test the temperament of his new sparring partner, knowing it could get him killed. However that's the fun part! His eyes twitch at the name calling, trying to keep his calm by thinking of other happier things, deliberately he stopped while keeping his guard, keeping on his toes having his feet remain shoulder length apart while responding to the question. "Yo, little boy? Really? I'm disappointed I'd expect more coming from someone like you because well, you're an old fuck? Guess it's true what they say huh? A little stupidity comes with age huh isn't that right you sick old fuck?What are you gonna do about it if i don't go hmm?"

Skevil: *The best thing about Volo, grant his size of stature wasn't small by any means but being able to multi task and do it under intense pressure, making him the style fighter that he was. Normall it've been a knife and that was all she wrote. Volo was sick and demented in that nature. Enjoying more pleasure from carving his victims alive, to cutting their stomachs open, releasing the foul smell of their gases, that had built up inside a ruptured colan due to a knife slash, down to opening the chest cavity, allowing his hand to feel the last few beats of life come from the human heart, as it'd pulsate in the palm of his hand. Now, with watching this male, a stranger to Volo, he'd begin to draw him out like a diagram inside his mind, while his blinks were half from full, just keeping it possible to have his eyes literally, on him at all times. The size difference played a factor in this match-up, leaving Volo to keep in mind his blows would have to be low and effective, as the male stood roughly five four, five, perhaps six from his view point. Having enough of the dancing around, Volo walked with towards the male, granted he'd side stepped a few feet to his left, Volo came in towards the male, in a zig-zag style pattern from rolling out to his left, into a right then back out, while taunting him in the slightest ways possible. With the given length of the chain, a mere twelve inches, exactly a foot long, Volo could move in as close as a good seven and half inches from his opponent and still deliever a blow that would certain prove to have it's damage worth from the master lock located on the last link. Coming but just two and half feet from the stranger, Volo's right leg bent at the knee just at a ninety degree angle, facing the sole of his shoe flat to the ground, while instantly throwing it forward, only to be a diversion of his left arm, instantly thrusting upwards in an upper cut manner, while it immediately sent the master lock, flying towards the male's lower jaw on the right side, looking for a connection and the possiblity of shattering it from the joint int shards, burying into the flesh of his mouth, completely disfiguring his jaw, as if it were ready to fall straight to the ground beneath them. Should either attempt be successful, either Volo's left foot aimed for the strangers kneecap, would cave with the push, sending his knee around to the back of his leg, -should he move to the left- or, the master lock disfiguring his face, should he have moved to his right, leaving Volo enough time alotted to step back to a safe zone and gather his thoughts in the future of his survival.*

istupidity: "That's right, take the bait motherfucker, daddy needs some blood." He's been thinking of ways to get out of it sense he's given the opening, however it's more of a tactical approach but normally something like this could prove absolutely fatal, especially when the opponent new what he's going to do in-terms of a confrontational situation that could bring absolute pleasure to his sadistic needs. More or less he loved to live in style, but had the mind and craving of a savage just never showed it, because he prefers to generally keep his cool with his actions unless it's prompting his opponent to do his will. Something you learn every day huh? Fighting someone who obviously knew hot to operate with the chin did him more harm than good, but as a man the experience you gain is by learning, that could prove value-able in this scenario so he's going to take the punishment like a man, this kind of reminded him of a child getting a roasting by his father or mentor, either way shit is getting absolutely fun for him as immediately he began calculating a way out via the pattern he's running which causes him to smirk, placing his left leg a little in-front of his right leg, keeping on his toes just waiting for the right moment to move. *Come on, get a little closer.* Almost counting down he watched his opponent carefully, using his upper along with his lower body as a potential telegraph for his eyes widen when he saw the knee bent, this isn't good his body immediately shifts quickly, taking a second to use his front left leg instead of going left or right from out of the bat, he moved his left leg Backwards taking a full foot backward stepping back and leaning his head with it dropping his shoulders slightly, allowing his head to go backward along with his hip quickly bringing his right foot into a lead position., leaning his head to the left. He wasn't done yet far from it, now the fun was getting started as he shifted his positioning entirely due to the other males position, he went to the right outside of the males shoulder knowing he'll be a little off balance as the master lock flew by his face, he quickly shift his position using a basic Capoeria move as he moved his right foot into a lunge position, planting his foot in a four o'clock position while dragging his left foot around around quickly to a 5 keeping his balance while being positioned closely to the floor. Using his free hand to grab the knife which is loosely hanging in his back pocket, never taking his eyes off the opponent getting a chance to speak, quickly. "Nigga, don't you have any manners, my name is James, I want you to remember the face that whoops your ass." His fingertips grip the knife simply placing around the grip of the weapon, placing his thumb at the edge of the grip enthralled with the battle wanting it to properly begin now quickly getting used to his oppositions fighting style, urging him to swipe at this position. Hoping he'll fall for it so he can have some fun of his own, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Skevil: *Volo caught the sight of the male, dancing around like a chicken. Volo wasn't one to be taken as stupid and his years of life advantage over his opponent proved more then enough to know his movements and how he'd attempt his dodge from the lock that had been driven upwards, with a full on thrust, towards the bottom of his jaw line. Noticing with the slight pull the lock had against his gravitation, his equilibruim had been woahed up a bit so to speak. The given specs of this in the favor of not having a damaging effect were large. Recapping that Volo being a male of a six six stature weighing ruggedly at a staggering two hundred and sixty five pounds, Volo would only have to ease a hair on the tips of his toes on his right foot, figuring with no blunt force of being stopped, the hit to the male's left knee had missed, in which was okay. While pulling himself in just slightly, Volo hopped over, moving his weight onto the flat of his left foot, at such an angle it would allow him to throw and pivet his motions, in a way his right foot would be able to be thrown around in a reverse round house motion, towards the right temple of the male's head, while Volo caught roughly the aim of it's appearance out the corner of his right eye. While his right foot was sent with a rough thrust, to cut through the air, headed towards his temple, Volo's left hand gripped down hard on the contents of his chain, while the lock again, was brought around with the same force as just seconds ago, as it would then reappear to come beneath his leg. His right leg playing two options. First being, a decoy for the male to croutch down just slightly to miss Volo's right leg to his temple, allowing the chain to come around just in the general area his cheek bone would sit after the intial squat, or two, his foot making the connection to his temple, while the chain made it's way to the outter portion of his rib cage just on the right side, but still leaving him oppurtunity to counter the chaos coming his way and fast. Throwing him off his balance, and allowing Volo to regain his footing, stepping back to assess the rest of the situation and make good on his movements to follow.*


istupidity: His positioning had cause him some own problems, it's his own damn fault for being careless. However where there's a will, there's a way because now he has to think even harder due to his position. For such a big guy, he moves well which he wasn't expecting for such a long time, right now though is no time to admire his opponents experience or kiss any kind of ass, well because he needs to kick ass too, this shit ain't right man. Not at all, he had a small understanding of what is coming towards him and honestly, he's regretting getting into that position. Actually it served him in a beneficial way, he needed to make his attack count, having an idea he managed to play possum for a brief moment, this time taking a deep breath while watching his opponent come at him with that blasted round house kick. His brain constantly in motion, with his hand so close to the ground he decided to fall on his left elbow using the momentum, placing his left eblow in a six O' clock position the male decided now it was time to have his own little fun as his head came with it, moving it at a seven O'clock position lying flat on the the turf allowing the males foot to pass over his temple, immediately passing over the temple he remembers his knife as a two step plan of his own began to formulate. His left elbow being inches away from his rib cage, his left leg will be used in a piston motion of his own, what he was doing is very risky, swinging it around from the 3 o clock ish position to the 12, he made sure to bring his right leg around in one smooth motion. Looking to counter his off-balanced opponent with a sweeping leg kick. His leg packed a punch being able to leg press twice his size for a relatively small man meant his opponent could feel it, this wasn't the end of it though as he brought his leg right around in a low sweeping motion going for it deciding to try to make it go more netural so they can duke it out hand-hand. He kept going, his instincts caused him to slide closer by a few inches using the elbow as a solid base, ready to have some fun here this time. His right hand controlling the knife is contemplating to just shove it at his face, maybe that'll throw him off balance as he wanted to see how his opponent whom isn't much of just a brute, knew what he was doing he spoke loudly making sure the dude could hear him."Let's drop the weapons and just have it out, makes for more fun that way, I'll make things interesting too if you kick my ass I work for you, without question. If I win, you work for me.'





Skevil: *Again, it was apparent to Volo that his attempts had missed the marks , he'd intended to be sent to the male's temple and his ribcage. His right foot, followed through while it was planted firmly to the ground on a brief second after the follow through was finished, only causing the chain to swing around his waist, the lock hitting him in his mid back area, his left hand against his stomach, right hand flat to the palm against his pelvis. Now, Volo only seen the male down on his elbow, bringing around a legs squeep that was enough for him to feel once the connection hit with enough force, it'd almost cause his knees to buckle. Reason for such a powerful kick coming with force to be deflected in such a manner, Volo's left foot had been locked and planted firmly to the ground in which the sweep coming from the male's right foot, leaving Volo's right of his own to support the leverage pushed on his left, locking him in a very sturdy position. Though, with the hit to his leg and causing his knees to buckle slightly and enough to jolt him, it had also caused the lock to come swinging back around the right side of his body, while his left hand was removed from his stomach, and slung out to fly out behind the left side of his head, which would yank the chain and cause the force of the lock to cut through the air, doubling the force already having been put into it. At this point in time, Volo saught to yank the chain down towards an ankle that would drive the blunt force of the lock straight even into the left side of the male's face, completely shattering all structure. His eye socket, cheek bone, and straight into the deadly hit of the left temple, granted that the male's attention should have been placed down towards Volo's feet for the sweep, leaving him -in a common sense senerio- completely unware of the lock blowing like a freight train to the left side of his face. Should his connection made good, the male simply would fall near death to the flat surface of the ground below them while having a cavity created in the left side of his skull, while only Volo himself could let "fuc...." slip from his lips now just hearing his statement of dropping the weapons, that should the male find a "reasonable" miracle to counter this brutal attack, Volo then would back off, allowing the male a few seconds of breathe, while chunking his chain off to the side, still completely aware of the sight caught of the male's knife gripped in hand.*



istupidity: He's been enjoying it a little, the pain. His thoughts of being in a dead-pool type situation may actually come into reality if he keeps this up, what kind of guy looks do disfigure a dude, seriously. There's no countering this now, so maybe a little blood of his own should be satisfactory, however he conceded immediately, this was the end of the fight but he managed to hold his own for some reason which caused him to feel proud that it made a man out of him, he understand what was coming next. His head being in the seven O'Clock position left himself wide open to being completely damaged, which he couldn't managed to take at this moment cause well ladies loved him, though it looks like he's going work for this person, tough shit for him, he really needs to stop making these kinds of bets. His right elbow also follows up in this instance however keeping the knife in his grip but away from his body, he used this to positioning to bring his right leg backward and slide, upward instead of downward, this method should minimize the damage somewhat as the lock managed to come down upon his rib cage, the moment of impact he decided to give it his everything as the impact managed to bring his head upward with a smile on his face trying to laugh at the pain, see with pain it didn't bug him at all it enthralled him, because it made him wonder how much his own body could take while feeling his ribs crack completely. He moved his right hand forward with one last thrust, giving it everything as he threw the dagger at the males right side, it was a deliberate sign of surrender as the intention is to send it past the males cheek, enjoying the combat, going through with his word and passing out due to the impact.

 * Volo's eyes narrowed in while the motions flowed before him in a smooth fashion. Something that he was proud of himself, to see things going smoothly. His actions, the attacks, the few counters and then there was the male. He seemed like a solid kid, just having his head on backwards while coming on grounds he could not yet stand upon for his own safety and well being. A grin, grew across his face, feeling the sudden stop of the lock dead in it's tracks, only assuming he'd hit something and from the look that shot across the male's face, it had been something vital. In fact, Volo had cracked the left side rib cage of his opponent leaving him to chuckle lightly mixed with horrid pains coursing through his mid section that only one could imagine. Moving his head slightly to the right, he'd allow the little thrust of the blade, the male had carried with him on this day, to float loosely past his left cheek and land just behind his presence. His eyes never leaving the male, while he'd simply pass out cold from the pain now bearing on his body from the shattering of his rib cage. Placing the chain around his neck, Volo directed his attention down towards the corpse of the male. Turning himself around in an about face motion, Volo turned and bent down to grab hold of the male's knife in the tight firm grip of his left hand. Standing back to his feet, Volo simply about faced again, taking two steps forward, while bending at both knees this given time, low enough to turn the male's head flat upon his right cheek, leaving the left cheek completely exposed. Taking the pointed edge of the male's own knife, Volo started to brutally carve a giant "V" into the left cheek of the male's face, directly under his left eye. Upon finishing his carving activities for the day, Volo gave a thrusting fling of his left hand, tossing the knife off into the nearby woods. Reaching down and lifting with his legs, he'd pick the male's body up from the ground over his left shoulder, as he began to carry him inside the house. While making his way to the porch, Volo simply stated a simple response to what the male had offered prior to the last bits of the match. "Yea? Deal. You work for me. You have my inital in your face, scared and branded to remind you of whom you don't fuck with. So it's official, your now my bitch. Congradulations." Upon making his way inside the house, Volo moved towards the rusted, blood and brain matter stained cage, opening the door, dropping the male inside, giving him a few heavty pushing inside before closing the door behind. Now back to his original stature and flat upon the soles of his feet, Volo took one last glance towards the male with a chuckle. "I'll let you heal up before giving you your to-do list ...BOY." Laughing once more, Volo turned out back towards the front yard, moving on about his business, as he was before, up until the male first appeared on his property. [Exit post]*