A/N: (means Author's Note for those'a you who don't know!) So... recently been watching Deadman Wonderland - many thanks to Hulu - and I absolutely LOVE it! So many sadistic freaks! So much violence! Though the anime has a ton of moments where all is reduced to a black screen as people are talking or even fighting which really kills the scene. Only down side.

But I digress. My brain couldn't get off of multiple ideas for other characters, and so I decided to share! It may just be this one since he's been my favorite, or depending on how things go I may just do the rest later. Flamingo, Cardinal, Phoenix... But for today? Vulture vs Crow! (Set a good bit before the anime/manga's start.)

Italics mark a character's thoughts, and from this point on, "Bold" shall count for the commentator's remarks in the soon-to-start battle.

Vulture.

Among birds, it is a lowly scavenger that feasts on the corpses of the dead. Among Deadmans, he is a fierce combatant with an insatiable thirst for strengthening his incredible power by devouring the hearts of his opponents. Often proclaimed as one of the deadliest of Deadmans with the highest kill ratio and a perfect winning streak, Vulture had gained an almost cult-like following over his first year in captivity. Already over a dozen Deadmans had fallen to Vulture, their deaths confirmed on stage as he ripped the still-beating hearts from their chests and ate the living tissue in front of his prey as they slowly died. Seventeen battles, sixteen kills, and only one battle where both combatants walked away with his life. That battle, was with Crow.

Vulture never could pinpoint exactly what had compelled him to spare Crow's life; it had come as a shock to everyone from the Promoter, to the fans, to Crow, and even to Vulture himself. Had it been an act of mercy..? Doubtful. Vulture had no mercy: from unlucky kids who would snivel and beg for their lives to hardened brutes who would simply glare at him and die with their pride intact, Vulture took pleasure in every kill. Perhaps, then, he just wasn't hungry..? Even more doubtful. Despite his inexperience - having only been in three battles before - Crow had been a wonderful opponent, like a diamond in the rough just waiting to polish his raw talent; Vulture had been so thrilled he had found it a challenge to keep himself from salivating. So much power... he could never deny such a meal. So why, why, WHY did he let the man go?

An incessant clicking noise echoed through G-block as Vulture continued to ponder over this dilemma, the sound caused by sharpened nails - at times referred to by others as 'talons'- tapping at equally sharpened teeth. This was a common occurrence when Vulture lost himself to his thoughts, which, lucky for the rest, was not all too often. Usually his mind was set to simpler focuses, such as strengthening his abilities.

It took an unfathomable amount of control for Vulture's Branch of Sin: Bloodwire. Using his talons he would just barely prick all ten of his fingertips, and from each prick he would force out a line of blood, as thin and flexible as a single strand of hair and as durable as folded steel. Even he had trouble visually seeing the lines of Bloodwire as they crisscrossed the battlefield, but unlike his opponents Vulture had the advantage of feeling their locations. Practice was necessary, and he was still miles away from reducing the width of his wires to a cellular level. That was his goal: a technique so sharp it could split his prey to pieces cell by cell, the cleanest of cuts imaginable! The thought alone was enough to make him laugh - a deep, sinister cackle that started soft but reached a quick crescendo and grew loud, almost obnoxious, until a voice from elsewhere interrupted him with an annoyed, "Shut up!"

"Tch..." Vulture scoffed, "Some people have no respect for the twisted amusement of others." Again he laughed, though this time it was shortlived as his thoughts backtracked. Crow. Vulture had faced and killed five other opponents since he spared Crow's life, and now it seemed they were in for a rematch. The clicking sound resumed. What would happen this time around? Would he kill Crow? Or would he again find himself unable - no, unwilling - to finish him off? It wasn't that he couldn't do it the last time around; he just decided that he didn't want to, even if he couldn't figure out why. Maybe he was just saving Crow for later? After all Crow's talents were impressive, but rough and unrefined. Perhaps the cannibal in him had thought it too soon to partake? "That answer will have to suffice," Vulture voiced as he took a glance at the clock with a twisted grin, "Ten minutes til show time!"

Eager, Vulture rose from his perch and briefly scanned himself over. Draped around his body was a loose black cloak stained with blood that covered everything except his hands and his head, and proudly set on his crown was a matching top hat, distinctively set to tilt to the left which gave its owner the proper appearance of a madman. Inexplicably straight hair cascaded from all sides of the off-center top hat like liquid silver, pouring down his back and shrouding his face with long strands of natural greyish-white hair, and his glinting eyes peered between the stands like two turquoise orbs. Vulture would never reveal his age to anyone, but there were guesses of numbers ranging from the 30's and all the way up to 72 years; funny how every one of them had been wrong. With a final inspection of his infamous talons Vulture was prepared; all that was left was to be taken to the stage... For now, he would simply let his mind drift.

"Hello, Ladies and Gentlemen! Thank you for coming to... Carnival Corpse! The battle between deadmans, Carnival Corpse! The rules for this battle are the same as usual! The battle will continue until one side can no longer fight, or dies! Tonight we have a special rematch between the devourer of life, Vulture, and the only deadman to walk away from him alive, the man with the black claws, Crow!"

The announcements finally clicked Vulture's mind back to focus, and with a subtle, maddened cackle he stepped out of the starting cage and into the ring. "Khehehehehehehehh... Been a while, hasn't it, Crow?" Vulture called out to his opponent with a wily grin visible through the part in his silvery hair, "I hope you've spent your time wisely and improved for me since I let you live."

Crow answered with an unamused glare and prepared himself in silence, releasing his blood and forging the vital liquid into two powerful blades that extended from his forearms.

"Oh? No pleasantries for me?" Vulture's grin faded, and was soon replaced with a visible pout, "No hello? No how've you been? Not even a 'fuck you' to say to me?"

"Fuck you."

Vulture was momentarily taken aback, and he pushed his bangs aside enough to reveal the extent of his hurt feelings; rather than pouting he was now outright frowning with his bright blue eyes glossy and his shoulders slumped down. He had never expected an actual 'fuck you,' but there it was. "So cruel, Crow," Vulture said tearfully, "But I guess it can't be helped." His maddened grin returned, spreading wide across his lips and showing off his sharpened teeth as he pricked all of his fingers in two easy motions: first pricking the left fingers with the nails from the right hand, and then switching the process to prick the right fingers as well. "We'll just see how you feel after the match is over!" Blood oozed from the tiny wounds to form thin lines, all ten stretching out and coiling into small piles on the ground in mock pools; to those unfamiliar with Vulture's Branch of Sin it simply appeared that he was bleeding out rather than forming deadly weapons, but Crow knew better.

"Deadmans Ready? Let the match begin!"

With the simple flick of his wrists Vulture's Bloodwire spread throughout the ring in all directions, forming a dangerous surrounding web but leaving him completely open as he spread his arms out wide. This stance had caused the downfall of many combatants, and on their first fight even Crow had rushed in to attack only to be caught in the Bloodwire trap.

"Still the same trick? Maybe you're the one who needs to improve," Crow mocked as he stood his ground. He wouldn't charge in, not this time.

"It appears that Vulture's signature starting move has failed!"

"Oh but I have improved!" Vulture replied excitedly and used his index finger to point over Crow's shoulder, and wiggled his finger to make the near-invisible Bloodwire gleam from the overhead lighting. The glinting trail of blood hovered in midair, crisscrossing a few times across the ring and stretching well behind Crow, with the Bloodwire's barbed end dancing behind him as it swayed back and forth.

Crow's eyes went wide as he followed the Bloodwire's path; it seemed that Vulture's attack range had nearly doubled since their last fight, and now that Crow knew that there was something behind him he could practically hear the subtle whipping sound as the wire moved. His body moved instinctively as he anticipated an attack, and he slashed his blade out in the sound's direction as he turned around and darted backwards, but his counterstrike missed; there were no incoming attacks to begin with. The Bloodwire was several feet away, still swaying back and forth as if it was... waving? It made no sense, and unintentionally Crow fell out of his fighting stance and spouted, "Huh!?"

Vulture laughed wildly as another Bloodwir - this one formed of three combined coils - wrapped itself around Crow's ankles from behind and lifted him into the air and held him to hang upsidedown and sway side to side. "You should've waved back," Vulture said in a reprimanding tone, like a parent scolding a child for misbehavior.

"What's this?! It appears that Vulture is PLAYING with Crow!"

Crow glowered from his disadvantageous position, aggravated that he had fallen for such a cheap trick. "You bastard!" he growled fiercely and tried to squirm free, but the more he squirmed the more random the coil's moving became.

"Wave. To. The Bloodwire," Vulture hissed, his turquoise eyes bright with maddened rage as he glared back at the helpless Crow. All he wanted was a simple greeting from Crow, the only Deadman who had ever been given the chance for a rematch.

"What!? You've gotta be shitting me!" Crow responded indignantly and tried desperately to slice the bindings with his Crow Claw, but no matter how many times the blades hit, the wire refused to break.

Vulture folded his arms over his chest, pulling each Bloodwire taut in the process and causing the snare to dig into Crow's thick boots. As if being impatient he tapped his index finger against his arm, causing the waving Bloodwire to sway to and fro right in front of Crow's face. "Wave," Vulture demanded, "And I'll forgive you for the rudeness earlier."

"Che," Crow scoffed defiantly and struggled against his tightened bindings, blowing the waving line of blood from his eyes and using his perfectly sculpted muscles to lean up from his inverted position and slashing his blades against the Bloodwire holding him. This time the wire escaped his strike, swishing out of the way and causing Crow to jolt in midair and fall back.

"Fine!" Vulture yelled, aggravated that Crow had refused to cooperate with such a simple task, "I'll just find a way to make you apologize then!"

"It seems Vulture's patience is wearing thin!"

The waving Bloodwire ceased abruptly, barbed tip turning to face Crow as if staring him down, and with a sharp cracking sound the wire struck across Crow's cheek, slicing a wound as thin as a papercut that appeared to draw no blood. Vulture slowly stepped forward with his arms still crossed and his head fully tilted to the side, grinning sinisterly as his movements shifted the alignment of each and every Bloodwire. It was like walking through a moving spiderweb, and just as the spider knows the design of its sticky spindles, Vulture knew the change in every line as he calmly approached his prey.

"Could it be?! Vulture is already closing in!"

Crow's entire body tensed. Vulture was known for keeping a distance, tearing his opponents to pieces from afar and ensuring that he was surrounded in snares and traps to keep it that way; the only time he would come close was for his finisher - eating the other deadmans' hearts. "Shit..! I can't believe I fell for such a cheap trick!" Crow was absolutely furious with himself, but fury was often a good drive for determination,"I ain't going down without a fight!"

The very instant that Vulture came into range Crow slashed at him, but by simply bending his knees to lower his elevation Vulture dodged the strike. He rose with his index finger wagging side to side, both to scold Crow and to bind the man's arms behind his back with the Bloodwire. "Naughty boy," Vulture taunted as he leaned in closer, a wide and deviant smirk lining his lips as he stood face to upsidedown face with Crow, "But worry not; I'm only getting a little taste."

"Like Hell you are!" Crow seethed, writhing as he tried to free himself from the bindings around his wrists. How could those thin little lines of blood be so damn strong!?

"Is this an early end to tonight's Carnival Corpse!?"

Vulture ran his tongue over his own lips in anticipation as he counted down, "Three... two... one!"

Crow flinched, expecting to have his heart ripped out at that very instant, but instead he only felt warm, thick blood break through the skin on his cheek and drip down - or, up rather, considering that he was still being held upsidedown and thus gravity pulled the blood down towards the top of his head. What followed made Crow flinch yet again.

"Wait... what's going on?"

Even the announcer was confused as Vulture raked his talons through Crow's spiky hair and roughly tugged on it.

"H-hey, just what do you think you're doing!?" Crow was far from his comfort zone at the moment; he was practically being molested! And the depraved, starving look in Vulture's eyes certainly wasn't helping! "Let me go!" he commanded, though he was in no position to make such demands.

Vulture grinned widely at his prey and slipped his tongue over his sharpened teeth. "Just a taste, and I'll let you go," he proclaimed seriously as he locked eyes with Crow, "But I still want an apology from you later. Now hold still!" Using his grip on Crow's hair Vulture forced his head to turn, leaving the bleeding cheek to face him. Slowly Vulture leaned in closer, and with one long lick he lapped the blood from Crow's face, "Hmm... not bad... In fact I'd even say you taste pretty good."

"Vulture has literally gotten a taste for Crow's blood!"

Crow was mortified; his face turned a deep red and he felt a shiver run down his spine - or up in this case. Though unwarranted, the feeling was strangely arousing; it was sickening, almost frightening to Crow that he had enjoyed it, just as all things of sexual nature were: women in indecent clothing, being touched in indecent regions, and in this case being licked on the face by a man who Crow was pretty sure was insane. "B-bastard!" Crow growled, "That's dangerous!"

"Oh, shush," Vulture completely disregarded his opponent's discomfort. Dangerous? Living was dangerous in this place. "Now before we resume our little match I've three words of advice for you!" Vulture beamed, the taste of blood seemingly reversing his mood from angered to excited, "Den. Sih. Tee."

"Density?" Crow repeated, though still furious and ready to bash the freak's skull in. "The Hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Uh-uh, I shall say no more," Vulture replied and pouted at him again, "Maybe if you'd been a little nicer to me I'd've given you more of a hint." After a final, brief lick of fresh blood Vulture backed up a few meters, and with a wave of his hands he carefully set Crow back down on his feet. "Now let's have some fun, hm?" Vulture continued with a twisted grin, his voice down to a deep, rumbling murmur.

"S-stop talking like that!" Crow's entire flow was off after his undesired encounter with Vulture's tongue. He had to focus. He had to completely ignore what had just happened and fight!

"It seems the fight is finally getting started!"

Vulture looked on appraisingly as Crow entered his fighting stance. From the first time he had gotten a glimpse of Crow - a rather nice glimpse of him panting and coated in sweat after a long day of working out - Vulture could tell he was no stranger to a good brawl; but Deadmans are a completely different league of fighters, and mastering supernatural abilities took a lot more than having a trained body. Still, it appeared that Crow had improved after all: his stance now better incorporated the blades on his arms, and after obtaining his first kill against another Deadman he seemed far more confident. All he needed was better control of his Branch of Sin... and what better way to teach him than by example? Vulture weakened his Bloodwire by decreasing the density, and with a twitch of his fingers made the first strike.

It was an easy attack for Crow to dodge - too easy, "Just what the fuck is he doing?" The second strike came at him the same: fast enough to look serious, but slow enough to be avoided. The third, the fourth, even the fifth incoming strike was easily dodged, and it was starting to severely annoy him, "Dammit... I feel like I'm being toyed with!"

Ironically Vulture was getting just as annoyed with Crow; if all he did was dodge he would never understand the concept! But it wasn't like Vulture could simply jump up and say, 'hey, stop dodging and see how weak the Bloodwire is!' it'd be too suspicious. This was a fight, a battle, a show! Nobody likes staged shows, those are boring! If he was going to teach Crow how to strengthen his abilities in the ring it had to be subtle... "Strike faster? Hit his blades on purpose? Corner him?" Vulture went over his options carefully but simply couldn't pick only one of them, "I'll just have to use them all!" With a wide grin Vulture increased his rate of attack, his Bloodwire lashing out in two groups of three while the remaining four served to surround Crow in a makeshift netted wall to corner him.

"Crow has backed himself into a trap!"

Crow had been so swarmed by attacks he had barely managed to dodge them all, but as his back finally hit the taut lines of the Bloodwire net he knew that dodging was out of the question - he didn't even get the chance to try. Vulture's attacks kept their relentless pace, but rather than striking Crow directly the trio of Bloodwire hit the blades on his arms and broke on impact, the severed ends reforming to liquid blood as they lost their direct connection to Vulture and simply splashing onto Crow's face. "How the fuck?" Crow couldn't believe what had happened. Several times during this match and the first he had tried to break those damned wires but to no avail! Now, without Crow even moving, the Bloodwire lines had cut themselves on his blades. There was no way...

"He looks confused," Vulture mentally sighed, and with his remaining three offensive Bloodwire he struck the blades once more, "Ten percent, thirty percent, fifty percent."

All three Bloodwire struck with a different intensity, the first vaporizing instantly upon impact and the shockwave breaking more than half the line's full length, the second striking with enough force for Crow to feel the impact before the severed end turned back into blood, and the third hitting hard enough to move Crow's arm back and surviving in tact. "Wait a sec... what was it he said before... Density?"

"Vulture's trap has worked against him!"

"Look angry, look angry, look angry..!" Vulture had to repeat to himself to keep from smirking as he withdrew all ten of the Bloodwire. His trap hadn't worked against him at all, in fact it worked perfectly! He could practically see the wheels turning in Crow's head as he started to understand. "Maybe I should also insult him to show disdain?" Vulture mused. He couldn't let on that this was intentional, after all, so an insult seemed appropriate. "Bastard!" Vulture hissed lowly, drawing his angered tone entirely on the mild annoyance of having to redisperse the Bloodwire after one had broken in half.

For just a moment Crow began to wonder if Vulture was doing this on purpose, but the sincerity in his tone when calling him a bastard threw the thoughts askew. Crow watched intently as Vulture reformed his Bloodwire, the blood slowly streaming in thin lines out of his fingertips... "Boney hands..." It was a sudden and rather strange thought that popped into Crow's mind, and though true, it was currently completely irrelevant. What he should be wondering about is why he was just standing there while Vulture was obviously wide open!

"Crow is finally making a move!"

Vulture hadn't quite expected that Crow would gain the confidence to charge in so soon, but lucky for Vulture he had learned to use his Bloodwire while forging them - to a point. Ten still-growing lines of blood lashed forth like thin serpents rather than taut wires and both speed and accuracy were far off, striking the floor like loose whips around Crow's dashing feet as he managed to dodge every last one of them. Vulture was practically giggling - giggling wildly like a madman rather than a schoolgirl of course - by the time Crow closed the distance. It was extremely rare for anyone to get so close, but rather than being scared Vulture was thrilled!

Crow's assault was relentless, his blades slashing consecutively in all directions while his opponent was forced to shirk back in order to dodge. Distance was Vulture's primary focus, and though breaking his defenses was near impossible all it took was getting in close to send him on the run - or so Crow thought.

While carefully backing up to avoid the attacks Vulture had been leaving lines of Bloodwire behind Crow, the density and strength of his Branch of Sin steadily increasing the further back it was. Still, Crow was much faster than he had anticipated, and the incoming blades became increasingly hard to dodge. It was then that a few daunting realizations struck Vulture's mind... "Crow is still convinced that this is a serious battle... I need to be at the other end... and Crow-" Vulture's thought process was interrupted as a blade narrowly missed slicing across his chest, "He almost hit me!"

The attack had narrowly missed, but it did just enough damage to his opponent's clothes to work against Crow's interest. From just above the hip and all the way up to the collar of the neck Vulture's cloak was ripped, and as a result half of the bloodstained garment had literally fallen off of him; Crow froze and a dark red blush crept over his cheeks. It was a disturbing, yet strangely intriguing sight... the exposed portion of Vulture's chest revealed every detail of bone beneath pale tightfit skin - the shape of his ribs, of his collar bone, the form of his shoulder plus the thin boney arm that stretched forth from it, and the sharp curve of his hip bone jutting out from his excessively thin waist.

"AAAHHHH!"

For just a moment Vulture pouted... sure he looked like a walking skeleton but did the announcer really have to scream? And what was even stranger was the look on Crow's face. "Crow?" Vulture called out, almost innocently despite his deep tone, concerned that he had hardly moved since his clothing was ripped.

Hearing his name - or at least his codename - Crow finally moved, carefully shielding his eyes with the non-bladed side of his arm and stammering his apology, "I-I'm sorry!" Ever since their first fight Crow had wondered why Vulture wore such an outfit; it was far from battle-ready and surely had to pose some sort of hindrance. Now, seeing what Vulture was trying to cover, he understood, and he had unwittingly exposed the poor man's anorexic condition to everyone.

Vulture had found Crow's reaction oddly cute, and though he would have preferred to tell him it was fine in a calm and normal way there was one thing stopping him: they were still on stage, and as such Vulture still had his reputation as a madman to uphold! Instead Vulture laughed wildly, and essentially leaped over Crow to run through the premade lines of Bloodwire. As he reached the fallen ends of the lines Vulture turned around sharply and dropped down, placing each individual finger over one of the many barbed ends to reconnect it to his body, and as he rose again and crossed his arms over his chest the many Bloodwire interlaced together, covering ten full meters of the stage with countless lines.

Crow was momentarily bewildered as he heard the light sounds of running feet and fading maniacal laughter, but as he dared to open his eyes he realized what had just happened. All around him he could see the gleaming lines of Bloodwire, and he quickly knew that the only way through them was to hack and slash his way free. "Dammit!" Crow cursed himself for being such an idiot, and glared at Vulture's shrouded image through the lines of blood for putting him in this situation.

"Now let's see if he can apply the concept of density on his own..." It had all turned back to Vulture's favor thanks to such a simple mishap, and though it was true that Vulture had done much to hide his condition he was momentarily grateful for it.

"Vulture has trapped Crow once again! Will this one pan out better than the last!?"

One by one Crow began cutting down wires with his Crow Claw, and though the first ones were easy it seemed they were getting increasingly stubborn. It was like an uphill battle, and near halfway through it seemed he had reached his limit. Crow repeatedly hacked at a single wire, expending his dwindled physical energy to the point that he had to pause and catch his breath. "How can the damned things be so strong!?" he groaned and doubled over, breathing heavily until an interesting pattern caught his eye. The severed Bloodwire had returned to a liquid state, just as the ones from before, but now Crow was able to see the trend... the stronger wires had left behind much thicker trails of blood than the weaker ones. "Density..." Crow said the word out loud as he mused over the concept.

Vulture had distinctively given Crow the word, 'density.' Earlier in the battle Vulture's attacks hit with three levels of strength. Currently, Vulture's Bloodwire were growing in strength, and the broken wires were leaving more and more blood behind. Density was defined as a material's mass per unit volume. So putting two and two together, the secret of the Bloodwire's strength was in the amount of blood that was compacted to make them - more blood within the same width, stronger wire; less blood within the same width, weaker wire.

Crow was struck with a 'eureka' moment, ironically on the same topic as the original 'eureka.' Density. "I get it!" In his excitement Crow's energy returned and he shot upright, re-entering his fighting stance and focusing entirely on his Branch of Sin. Density. It would take more blood to strengthen his weapon at its current size, or he could condense everything into a smaller blade. His decision was easily made, and with an amount of mental focus most would think improbable for him, Crow forced more blood into his weapon. Visually there was no change, and only one way to test whether or not it had even worked. With newfound strength he struck the Bloodwire once more, and finally the stubborn line gave way, cut perfectly in half down the middle. "Dead center!" Crow proudly beamed and raised his fist towards Vulture, who was now only five meters of Bloodwire lines away, "You're next."

"Crow is making his way through!"

Vulture grinned widely and stretched his right hand forward then curled his fingers back, beckoning Crow with the 'bring it on!' gesture and at the same time setting off a chain of events with his woven Bloodwire trap. Half of the lines - those attached to his right hand - began reforming, growing thin tentacle-like additions that lashed out towards Crow.

"Shit!" Crow was caught off guard as the first strike of wire slashed across his chest, "Does this guy ever run out of tricks!?" Crow knew he had to be careful as he progressed, but no matter how many times he cut down the offensive, striking lines another would soon replace it. Countless times he was getting hit, the deep hair-thin wounds leaving behind a painful sting.

Ironically this extention ability was one of Vulture's weakest - all it took was breaking down the stationary root Bloodwire to knock out the moving ones... after Crow had already seen how the severed lines turn to blood Vulture was amazed that he hadn't figured it out yet. "How much blood do I have left before going critical..?" Vulture pondered, growing a tad bored as Crow continued to struggle at the seven-meter line with only three to go. "Five percent currently but if he keeps making me replace the lashlings I'll be in trouble..." With that Vulture yawned, covering his mouth with his right hand and consequently reverting the Bloodwire to normal. "Come now, Crow this is getting old... I thought you were going to cut me in half?" Vulture droned to reveal his boredom, "Will this make it easier for you?"

Crow growled - nearly roared - at the insult in rage, but despite his anger the remaining Bloodwire refused to break down. "Dammit! It needs more blood!" once again Crow had to up the density of his Crow Claw, but in his rage he used perhaps too much. His blade cut through the Bloodwire cleanly, and he steadily progressed the remaining three meters with little trouble, leaving behind a thick trail of blood - both his own from the wounds, and Vulture's broken Bloodwire.

"This is the bloodiest battle seen in months!"

"Cleared all the way through to seventy percent... I'm sure the total mass of his blades helped in breaking them down but still... Nicely done, Crow." Vulture was quite impressed, and as the last of his Bloodwire were cut down he once again had to replace them. He knew his blood supply was limited, and as such he knew he would have to change tactics. With his left hand behind his back he crouched low, and held his right hand forward as fresh Bloodwire oozed out of all five fingertips, "Density, one hundred percent... volume per wire, one percent... length, four meters each..."

Crow launched his attack just as the Bloodwire were forged, giving Vulture just enough time to counter the strike with a quick upward strike and momentarily knock him off balance. But Crow was highly skilled in close-quarter combat, and with a fluid motion he caught himself while striking out with his second blade.

Now down to one set of Bloodwire Vulture just barely managed to dodge the Crow Claw, receiving a small cut just off the center of his chest. "Curses!" It was so rare for Vulture to sustain an injury that he had forgotten to add it to his calculations, and to make up for the impending blood loss he reigned in each of his five Bloodwire by a full meter, knocking them down to three meters each.

"You're mine!" Crow exclaimed as he followed up his successful attack with another strike that was headed for Vulture's neck.

"You wish!" Vulture replied with a deep, maddened laugh as his Bloodwire barely managed to spare him from being beheaded, then with a wily smirk he added, "You know... I kinda wish too."

Crow was momentarily thrown off by Vulture's remark and his face reddened yet again, "That's not what I meant!" Though flustered Crow maintained enough focus on the battle to counter a strike of Vulture's Bloodwire, successfully breaking all five Bloodwire mere inches from Vulture's fingertips and placing a gash on his covered left shoulder.

Vulture ignored the pain that shot through his entire arm, but he knew his blood level was at it's limit. "One more attack... just one more..." Vulture forced his body to move, and in a final effort to win - or at least to survive - he lunged forward at Crow, stabbing the five shortened Bloodwire into Crow's chest.

"Dead center..." Crow grunted in pain, coughing up traces of blood from the sustained wounds.

Consciousness faded for both combatants, and both fell in opposite directions at the same time onto the bloodstained floor.

"What happened!? It looks like... is this a draw!? ... can there be a draw?"

It came as a shock to all who were spectating. Never before had Carnival Corpse ended in a draw, and no one knew what to do. The crowd quickly rose into an uproar as each tried to declare their bet as the victor, but even with replays the truth was clear... Both had gone unconscious at the same time, and both had hit the floor at the same time. To the very millisecond, the match was a draw. The medical team was sent in to pick up the fallen combatants, while Promoter Tamaki had to deal with the crowd. It was eventually decided that the bets would be refunded, leaving the remaining questions of how to split the prize between the two, and which would be featured in the Too Bad for the Loser Show...

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

Vulture awoke in the infirmary to find that he had been stripped down to his pants with an IV line in his arm and his wounds already patched, but no visible heart monitor.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

So why was there an incessant beeping noise? A familiar incessant beeping noise... "Poison!" Vulture shot upright as he recognized the sound to be the alarm from a death row inmate's collar, and by slashing his nails across his left hand he quickly coursed the poison out of his bloodstream - but it was a minimal amount.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

"It isn't mine," Vulture realized, relieved that his purging technique had still been working after all. "But then... whose is it..?" Vulture looked around the room, and soon enough the answer became clear; the only other person in the room, was Crow. "Shit..!" Vulture openly cursed and removed the IV line from his arm, then rose and quickly made his way to the door. He couldn't remember how the fight had ended, but it was clear that both he and Crow had passed out sometime or other. "Tamaki!" Vulture's voice echoed as he called out to the Promoter, who was casually walking through the hallway.

"Oh? So you're the first to awaken eh, Vulture?" Tamaki remarked with his usual broad smile, "I suppose you're wondering what happened then, hmm? Well I'll tell you..." The Promoter's face met a drastic change, revealing that he was actually quite pissed, "It was a draw. Meaning all of the bets had to be refunded."

"A draw?" Even Vulture was shocked to hear this, and - completely ignoring the Promoter's angry scowl - he asked, "What about the prize?" At this point it was urgent, to Vulture at least.

Tamaki arched an eyebrow at Vulture's unusual behavior, but he had other issues to put up with for the moment - he hadn't even given the Deadmans' prize much thought. "Hmmm... Ah, I know. One of you will receive the candy and the trophy and go home three days happier, and the other gets the Cast Points after going through the Too Bad for the Loser Show. Though by the looks of it Crow may well be executed soon, in which case everything will go to you," Tamaki answered with a cruel high-pitched giggle.

Crow executed? Not an option, not now. "I'll take the Cast Points," Vulture declared without hesitation, "But you give me the candy now so I can take it back to Crow before it's too late."

Tamaki's broad smile returned, "You realize what you're signing yourself up for yes? The almighty Vulture finally makes it to the Loser's chair! Your fans will be crushed, or maybe they'll be thrilled!"

Vulture growled lowly, "Yes I realize now quit wasting my time!"

The Promoter could only laugh at Vulture's worried display, but still he decided it was best to give the man what he so badly wanted. "You show such strange affection for Crow..." Tamaki sneered as he handed over one piece of precious, bitter candy, "You do realize that even with this he'll die in three days. With those final wounds you gave him there's no way he can earn enough Cast Points for another. Crow is good as dead! D-E-A-D dead!"

Vulture didn't even wait for the Promoter to finish talking before dashing off, and the moment he returned to the room he could once again hear the beeping.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Already the effects of the poison were taking hold of Crow's body, leaving him to writhe and shake in agony in a semi-conscious state. It was painful just to watch, and Vulture wasted no time as he ripped the paper off of the small black ball and quite literally shoved it down Crow's throat, causing the man to gag as his body protested but giving him no other option other than to swallow.

Bee-Bee-Bee-Bee-Bee-Bee-Beep... Beep... Beep... ... ... ...

Finally there was peace in the room, the annoying beeping noise replaced by the heavy sound of Crow's breathing as he started to recover.

Vulture sighed in relief, and with that ordeal taken care of he walked back out of the room where Tamaki and the sadistic female doctor, Rei Takashima, eagerly awaited him. "You're both going to escort me?" Vulture commented with a snide tone, "Aren't I somethin' special."

A/N: (means After Note for those'a you who don't know!) ... after getting about halfway through this I realized that there were a lot of innuendoes (subtle sexual references for those of you who don't know the meaning of innuendo) ... so, I decided to stick to the innuendoes! They were fun! And amusing! And while coming up with more of a backstory for Vulture to go along with the anorexia ordeal I eventually decided: eh, I'm just going to throw my insane little Vulture over the fence to the yaoi side.

This also means... *rolls a drum across the floor* I've decided to keep going with Vulture! Already set up a nice little plotline and everything! ... think I've been working on this one for... two, three weeks? Following chapters prolly won't be this long..