Year: 3036 (2009)
Planet: Pluto
City: Between Baren Town and Pluto City
Location: In the middle of unnamed forest


They tried holding him down, yet he proved to be too much for them. It was somewhat pathetic actually. But there was no means of escape, for there were too many bystanders circling him. Even if the big group of huge homosexuals sucked, their numbers and strength should have given them the win by now. They were so horrible, that he could still hear the music playing threw the ear buds that still didn't fall out. He figured the fight would have nudged them from place by now.
He held his blood stained busted knuckles high, waiting for them to get up, and throw themselves at him again. He wasn't worried enough to get rid of them quickly, but he had other things to do. Particularly someone to look for.
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Marvin decided he'd use Sythers Vision to help him to the right direction. He looked back and noticed Patrick wasn't following him anymore, and that he wasn't even there anymore. It made him wonder why Patrick was there in the first place, for he wasn't someone who'd just go out for a drink. In fact, Patrick didn't drink at all. But Marvin thought that he'd worry about that later.

His vision turned blue. The sky was black, (even though it was dark at the moment, the sky would be black in Sythers Vision during the day as well), as was the buildings and the trees. The snow was dark blue and almost the tint of the sky. It was like someone had put blue lenses over Marvin's eyes. Except the vision also let Marvin see things normal people wouldn't be able to see. Even though he would occasionally see ghosts, and other floating bits of energy, he was surprised at what he saw this particular moment. The outside was filled with ghosts, and even some Sythers Spirits. They filled the space like a heavy crowd in big city streets. And they were all going in one direction.

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The fight dragged on.  Despite his success, the Lavanorsian was starting to fall weak.
He found it difficult just to move, it was like dragging himself forward with invisible restraints. It that wasn't the worst, his head pounded harder than it ever did, and his stomach burned with unbearable nausea. Spots speckled in his vision, and it felt like someone clogged his ears shut. It took a lot of will not to collapse like his body told him to.
One guy roared as he ran for the relatively smaller Lavanorsian, and threw a punch. The young fighter parried despite his protesting muscles and without delay. His vision made him sway when he dodged, because for a second he was seeing more than triple. He felt dizzy. But lucky for him, all of them were as slow as a sloth and probably even dumber.
He recovered and forced his right fist to the jaw of the huge attacker and the other to the temple and finally he went down. He was down for good this time.
There was a spectator who was angry at the success. So he threw something. The Lavanorsian caught it and whirled it back and in a second there was crack. Whoever it hit had not even yelled out as it hit him and he tumbled.
He didn't know how long he'd last, the condition was getting worse, and they didn't know any better to stay down. He thought that he out to use fire now. He imagined the heat of fire, the burning, and anger of it as it turned everything to ash. He thought of spreading that angry fire and turning his hand into the flame thrower from Hell.
He imagined it…but it wasn't the heat he felt, but the lack of it. This he realized just now. His whole body was not consumed by fire's heat, but of another pain he did not know well. It was cold, and numbing, and yet it had its own kind of burning to it.
And he found out that fire would not come to light at all. No matter how much he tried, the hot energy he tried to conjure came out cold instead. what does this mean?

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Marvin felt just as he did at the bar earlier, but worse. He swayed back and forth, and could barley stand. It was getting so cold.
He was particularly angry that for some reason he couldn't use any of his other magic types to get to where he wanted faster. All his energy was compressed, and it was hard to use any other magic type.
If all the pressure and energy didn't clear soon he knew the Demon Hunters would come, and for most, that was the most horrible army to come across.

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Everyone turned blue.
Everything turned into some tone of blue.
The Lavanorsian saw more people showing up out of nowhere.
The fight went on nonetheless his failing eyes.
The gang figured out that they had better chances at landing a hit if they worked together by attacking at the same time.
After he ducked, he found he needed to move to the right. He tried to unleash his fire on the two who stumbled over their miss, but no fire came. One other came from behind him, wanting to tackle him. The Lava Head moved, and the tackling one knocked down the other two and stumbled over himself.
They got up, and more started throwing punches at once, and usually the assault would be no problem for him, but with his condition, it was harder to recover from dizziness in time to move and counter.
Big Chuck stood outside the fighting circle, laughing and drinking as he pointed and laughed as he expected one of his buddies to land a good hit. When he found that again, the Lavanorsian escaped without harm and the others trying to get up, he spat and barked curses. The spectators were a lot like the audience of a coliseum. They booed and jeered as they rooted for the lion.
Three got up, and the Lavanorsian decided he was sick of seeing their ugly faces, and angry his magic wasn't working. Confused and not able to make up a reason for the way his eyes played tricks on him.  He rushed for them in a frenzy of madness. His whole body protested as he attacked everything in sight, and he dismissed the thought that occasionally, his clenched hand went threw some of them as though they were not even there.
He still heard loud music in his ears.
A couple of the goons got up and backed away, not wanting to humiliate themselves anymore. A couple of them couldn't even get up. Some of them fled, surprised at the strength they witnessed. Even scared.
The Lava Head was knocking people down by simply pushing them aside, or by slinging their overweight body's over his averagely broad shoulders. One guy's face was kicked in, and he fell holding his broken and bleeding head. A couple of the guys mysteriously got a hold of weapons.
One swung a stick, and it broke in half as one fist broke threw it, and the other broke a jaw. He didn't stop though. He came forward with his arms outstretched. The Lava Head wasn't fast enough to back away in time. The goon held on to the Lavanorsian's head and head-butted him. It didn't faze him that much, to even the Lavanorsian's surprise.
It was hard to keep him still, but the big man still had a grasp. The Lavanorsian swung punches in a frenzy that didn't seem to stop. One punch after another. One then another. Again. Again. Again. The man didn't let go.
"What are standing there for?" Big Chuck shouted, "Get him, he's not going anywhere!"
The others, even the ones who cowered away, came back and were going to throw in a couple free hits. One guy broke a glass over the Lavanorsian's head. He felt dizzy but he wasn't anymore affected by it. He reached out for the guy's arm and with a grand demonstration of strength he forced the broken glass into the face of the one who still held on to his head. He let go. But someone else grabbed him.
He had his arms wrapped around him, but his feet and arms were still free. One man to his left was kicked in the knee. When he stumbled, he was punched down on the nose he fell on his face. Another backed away and bended over as he heaved after getting it in the stomach. This happened in a reoccurring pattern until one person threw a punch and the Lava Head ducked his head. The attacker hit the captor on his neck and he let go. He lunged for the man and the two forgot all about the young fighter.
Now that most of the group was out of the way, the Lava Head took his opportunity to swing at Big Chuck even with his vision and magic failing him. The man of 6 feet and 11 inches plus 380 pounds laughed at the 5'11" 18 year old who was probably 100 or more pounds lighter.
The Lava Head took one step forward with an arm bent, getting ready to whirl a punch into the drunken gay man's face. Thus, he stricken but then he stopped. What stood before him was someone who seemed to have popped out of nowhere.
About a head taller, was a man who was tinted in blue as though he were being looked at through blue lenses.  His hoddy was torn, as if he had been shot or stabbed, and both hoddy and old jeans were stained in what was probably blood. The face of the man was distorted in a facial expression of sorrow. Lava Head's mind was too slow to remind him that who this person could not possibly be who he thought.
This sight shocked the Lava Head, and it was at this moment that many blue tinted people showed up and blocked everything that was real from sight. His muscles felt stiff, and his breathing was stressed. The energy flowing threw him, unwillingly to his control, was becoming too overbearing. It was then he noticed how silent it had become.
The music had stopped. The music was bewitched with protective spells against deadly spirits that could attack him. But he could not attack back. The person who gave him the spells was someone who claimed that the Lavanorsian was cursed (by a curse different than the curse of fire). No one could figure out why. Like any other portable music playing device, it needed to be charged occasionally and he had forgotten all about it.
If Big Chuck wasn't enough of a problem, then him and the attacking spirits and his failing magic all combined would be the end of him if he didn't figure a way out.
And if that wasn't enough horror to swallow, then the next event was. For in the next second, there was a loud battle cry of crow-sounding roars in the freezing air. It was the sign the Lava head new too well. The Demon Hunters had finally arrived