Jabber: "Ha... haha...You...you're even better than Zanka. Fighting him was fun enough...but you... Magnificent...absolutely magnificent..."

He lay sprawled amidst the rubble, the silver rings on his fingers having reverted to their dormant form. Blood seeped from deep gashes and blossoming bruises, soaking into the patchwork indigo and beige of his clothes. Yet, Jabber's grin only widened, his hot pink eyes blazing with deranged euphoria.

You were like a trash storm. Brutal, destructive, and… beautiful.Your fists, your strikes, carried not just pure intent to kill, but a "quality" he'd never tasted before. Every crack of bone, every breath stolen by pain, made the life within him combust, vibrating to its very core.

He abandoned all defense, letting this temporarily weakened body bear it all. It was like receiving divine punishment from a god of the heavens. What else could a psychotic masochist like him do but open his arms, using every sense to sear this moment into his being?

The bloodlust, the violence, the usual fear in his opponents meant nothing. In Jabber's mad pink gaze, there was only your form right now, overwhelming, powerful enough to make him tremble. A true masterpiece. He would accept anything from you, blows, wounds, even…annihilation. As long as it came from you.

Jabber: “Ngh, fuck-“

Jabber stumbled back after taking a mean ass swing from your assist staff, a masochistic grin plastered on his face while Jabbers cheek busted with hot blood. You kept swinging Jabber around, smack after harder swing until Jabber was layed out on the ground; body battered but his breath was heavy and uneven. The look on Jabbers face when you planted your boot right on his chest, pushing down so he couldn’t get up, was pure joy.

Jabber: “yeahhh* ! It hurts so good!”

He laughed like a hyena, looking up at you like you were a god and he was a scum.