[Semi-Finals] Bloodwater Mists

Then, when victory seemed most certain,

there came great noises from the rebel camp.

Men of great standing fled, crying out:

“Flee, for the White Death has fallen upon us;

our leaders are slain, and fire set to our encampment!”

And the traitors were greatly afraid,

for the White Death was heartless

and knew neither mercy nor compassion.

That day the White Death claimed seven-score lives,

raising a great voice that was heard even by the False King,

No soldier of the enemy evaded it, nor were any spared.

• The Book of Bellum: The White Death routs the Rebel forces at the Battle for Tarex

The world had grown dull. Distant. Faded, like childhood memories of earliest holidays. As though in a trance Fasumbra Langardo had lived the last few hours, the scant time spent being transported from the scene of their Eliminator feeling endless as his mind came to terms with their situation. The noisy thrumming from the plane’s engines sounded as though it were passing far overhead, rather than being all about him. If his teammates took notice of his lapse into silence Fas would not realize it short of someone speaking directly to him.

His teammates, of which only two remained. Throven was lost to them, an ignorant victim of the Shadow’s game. Despite all his exertions Fasumbra was unable to determine the truth in their Eliminator, and Throven had paid the price for his failure.

‘Your fault, Langardo.’

Gone to the unknown, their efforts in vain.

‘EH TRUST MAH TEAHM, YEH WINDBAGH’

Lost to the darkness, beyond their grasp.

‘You are too late, fool.’

Trapped. Imprisoned. Captured.

‘Oh, Fas. I forgive you.’

Dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD. DEAD. DEAD.

DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD DEAD

Abruptly Fasumbra realized he was holding his head in his hands, fingers clenched around his skull with such intensity that it would have left bleeding wounds where his nails were if he hadn’t been wearing his gauntlets. His heart was pounding in his chest, his lungs heaving air in great hisses through clenched teeth. The half-elf couldn’t know it but his eyes were glowing like burning coals, emerald light almost bright enough to see by shimmering outward. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to feel pain, great pain, something to distract him from this madness. Darkness welled up in his soul, his psyche roiling as though a great storm were passing through his mind. This was it. There would be no stopping it this time. No control. No hope.

“You two…” Fas took great gasping breaths as he paused. His body was trembling faintly, the Warcloak around his shoulders wavering back and forth as thick muscles twitched beneath it.

“…stay away from me. For a long… a long time.”

It was not a command. The half-elf was far beyond being their leader now, being a driving force guiding them to victory. No, Fas’ voice was pleading and more than a little I’m going to kill them I’m going to ****** slaughter them all I‘m going to laugh and they’re going to scream like children and die and die and DIE AND DIE AND DIE AND fearful as he spoke to Sokoya and Clash. He could feel it, that old sensation, pounding in the back of his mind like the feeling of steel through flesh and the sound of screaming its so good it feels so right I love when they beg me beg me beg me for your life you **** insect you **** worm ****** worthless it had so long ago.

It was tearing at him even now, but he knew he had to keep control of himself. If he lost it before they were at the match the results could be catastrophic. He could only imagine Sokoya’s sweet flesh splitting under my hands break her like an animal her screams sound so perfect what would happen if he Clash scream little boy scream for your family beg me beg me beg me ******** human filth lost himself outside of the influence of the judges. Fas tried to stop his body from trembling but he couldn’t force down that sensation coursing through his bloodstream, the old part of him that so desperately wanted out. If he could just keep himself under control a little longer, it wouldn’t be as bad.

But fate had other plans. By chance, Fasumbra looked out one of the viewports and down into the steaming, reeking jungle that was Balmong, a name unbeknownst to Fas. The sight of the trees, of the veritable hell-world beneath them, struck the last cord in the cacophonic symphony his mind was screaming. This place looked as though Death bathed in its waters, as though with demonic fingers a great evil had placed every plant and animal to maximize the true horror of the place.

It looked so much like home.

“If you don’t stay away, I’ll make you wail and crawl and I’ll laugh when you plead for mercy. I will love to see your faces when you realize there’s no hope left, it’s the best ******** feeling in the world.” Fas looked at them, both his team and the enemy. Then he laughed as the plane suddenly jerked sideways, tossing Fasumbra and the others out like garbage.

~~~

Wild laughter trailed him in the air as he fell, quite audible to the others if they were listening. On the way down, just before Fas landed, the Warcloak snagged on a tree branch and instantly came loose, the expertly designed clasp releasing it from around his neck as smooth as silk. Fas didn’t even notice it was gone when he hit the water.

Searing heat assailed his face, but only there. His hair was tied back into four separate braids as it had been so long ago, so it wasn’t an obstacle at all when it came to his vision. Perhaps he should have known he was beginning to lose it when he, for no reason, tied his hair up in such a manner. In any case, the Shigtoh was more than capable of dealing with the temperature, and in fact would only become mildly uncomfortable because of the water soaking into the fabric; its loose fit would keep it from being much trouble at all. Similarly, the local wildlife would have quite a time trying to chew its way through the Kevlar/Letgranian Cotton mesh that made up the suit. If they were capable of chewing through something that tough one would wonder why they weren’t simply predators rather than parasites.

But Fasumbra was quite far away from caring about that at the moment. After the initial shock of impact passed, he rose up into a crouch that brought his head out of the murky waters just enough for him to breathe through his nose as he took a look at his surroundings. It was steamy, so much so that a fog had blanketed the area and he could only barely see Sokoya less than ten feet away. But sight was not the only sense he had possession of. With his Mana Sense, the positions of the others settled into his mind as small beacons in an otherwise dead world. And one in particular stood out to him.

‘Hello there Tresondros. Let us play my game, then…’

Fat, wriggling leeches had already attached themselves to parts of his neck and jaw, but they went ignored for now. Fasumbra lowered himself back into the foul water, his crouch becoming closer to a crawl now, as he began to creep forward beneath the darkness of the water. The half-elf didn’t bother opening his eyes anymore, as the Mana Sense was more than enough for knowing where the others were. Plus the water was probably well outside sanitary measures, though perhaps the heat had killed any bacteria present.

It wouldn’t take him long. Years and years of training guided his movements, knowing exactly how to move himself beneath the water while creating minimal disturbances on the surface. There would be no sudden ripples, no obvious displacements of water, especially thanks to the water’s odd properties which kept it from hindering him at all. He could feel the presence of Tres, and began to plot a course through the depths to get behind him. To isolate him.

The judges were truly sadistic, for this place was indeed as close to his old home as Fas had been in a long time. The past had caught up with Fasumbra Langardo; now it was time for Fasumbra Langardo to catch up to ODESSA.

Over Bloodwater Mist

The psion had died there in the Mobius Room.

The creature had not been defeated in their final Hail-Mary charge. Try as they might no matter how they struggled against that cosmic horror they were defeated in the end. Tres did not recollect how it happened and as he faded away from the Mobius room the only thing he could see was the face of his friend. When the fans, the glory, the opponents all faded away and in the black sea of death he saw her. It was her that he thought about in his last fading moments for reasons he did not fully understand. It was with her that Tres fell back into the black river of styx dying in battle as he one day thought he might.

A part of him accepted it, the other part of him had thoughts of her

Falling through the air, Tres shot downwards at hurtling speeds as his body fell half-hazardously from the ship. Tres was sure to land hard and dangerously through the scalding hot waters of the land below.

Then a black ooze fettered within the core of his crystalline arm and with claws of madness it tore through the thought crystal. A shockwave of pain roared through Tres's being. The red hot pangs of agony reached into the black sea of unconciousness and tore Tres into the world with an agonizing scream.

"AHHHHHHHHH!", his eyes bulged as his mouth came wide to bellow its throes of agony.

ICARUS LIVES!

but with eyes filled with madness as the black liquid neg filtered through the blood streams of his eyes. The liquid wrought with negative energy burned its way into both the flesh and crystalline parts of his body with its fiery tendrils of agony and delusion it threatened his very sanity. Yet, this pain like the fiery black neg that rushed through his veins was being resisted. In the maelstrom of negative energy and vile cosmic truth his sense of self and his will held strong to that image that came with him through the darkness of death.

He would see his way back to her and he would tear hell down if it stood in his path. Yet he saw the devil in the distance, slowly ebbing with his cloudy mass towards the field of his domain; ready to defend it against him who possessed the desire to rise from the pits.

And it was into one such circle of hell he descended.

Not even his father could destroy churning-bog but if it meant hearing her voice again he would see it done. As he woke up, the sudden sense of falling at so rapid a speed frightened him. It caused the psion into a knee jerk reaction of wanting to stop falling so fast.

Above the treacherous Baelmog, a second airplane tilted to the side. Out fell Throven Battlefate, screaming, crying, and utterly confused. The poor Dwarve had been sleeping so very soundly in his bed. That had been the most wonderful sleep of his life. But now all he knew was his descent to a watery death.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUGH!"

He knew he was going to die. In the few seconds of his fall he recounted everyone important to him, as well as well as several vague memories. Throven came to the sad understanding that something wasn't finished in his life, when-

SPLOOOOSH !~

"AH SHET- AHHH"

"AHHHHHHHHH!"

Throven miraculously survived his fall with no injuries, but this was just the beginning of his ordeal. Scalding hot water splashed over his body, his armor and clothing doing nothing to stop the terrible heat. A sharp pain was felt in his cheek. The adrenaline pumped Dwarve loudly struggled to keep himself above the water, not yet processing that he had thus far survived.

sploosh!

For reasons unbeknownst to Throven, the plane had ejected a wooden chair as well, landing right beside him. Hope surged throughout Throven's very being as he lunged for the chair, hoping to stand above it to give him relief from the scalding water, which just so happened to be only an inch or two lower then the top of Throven's head.

"ACKHHH!" The Dwarve reached his destination, hastily placing it upright and jumping on top. But before he could take a sigh of relief, he had to look down...

"AHHHHH! GEDDOF'A MEH!" What looked like hundreds of slimy, disgusting leeches had attached themselves all over Throven's armored body. One had even attached itself to his cheek! He immediately began smacking the damned creatures off his gauntlets and arms, thin lines of blood trailing from where they managed to puncture the skin from between his chainmail. He then whacked the thing off his cheek, leaving a decent sized gash in the area.

He spent a bit more time hurriedly getting the leeches off the rest of his body, now jumping up and down on his feet, which were the only part of his body still submerged.

"AH! AHH! ******' HOY ON MEH FEET **** YEH SISTEH'S AN' GEDDOF'A MEH YEH ******!"

Out of breath, the Dwarve finally got everything off of him. He continued jumping up and down in his effort to relieve his feet of the terrible burning feeling, making sure not to knock the chair over. He then noticed his shield was missing. Throven looked from side to side, but instead of finding his shield, he discovered his team mates a distance away from him, several figures next to them which Throven figured was the other team.

"'EY THERE," he shouted, still out of breath. He doubted anyone heard him. He looked up at the sky to see the airplane flying away.

beep beep beep beep

Throven's FIGHTER lit up like a Christmas tree. He took a look at the screen.

Code: Participant Throven Battlefate eliminated from round 2.

"...whet... GODDAMNET WHET THEH ******** GOIN' ON 'ERE?"

magics - 8/8

((Just spectating, if it wasn't obvious.))

The Crystal Caverns

Sokoya had just finished charging herself up for another go at their shadowy doubles, eager to get back in there and tear them apart. The notion of finding out who the fake was was mostly lost on the girl. She'd never been much of a thinker in the middle of combat, and the opportunity to tear into her captain was too much to pass up. Even if it was just a fake version of him. Unfortuantly, her wish would not be granted. In what seemed like mere minutes the entity running the show had grown bored with their antics. Mind games were its fetish.

Shouting out that time was up, someone would hit the lights in the tavern. The instantly plunged into a darkness that seemed counter to the idea that the place was filled with glowing crystals. Frowning, Sokoya would plant her hands on her hips and glance around. The sound of bubbling and gurgling water indicated something funny was going on with that pond in the center. She just didn't know what it was until the black ickorish water started to flow up around her feet. Creeping up her legs alarmingly fast.

Before long, she was treading in the freezing water. And just like that, she was tugged under by some unseen force, swirled around, and spit out. Somehow this all lead to the team getting put onto some military grade airplane headed to god knows where. I dunno how this s**t works, ask a judge. Sitting in her soaking wet sundress, Sokoya relaxed while her team flew to their next fight destination. Hard bone was still encrusted over her left arm. Insect like plating having formed all the way up to her shoulder, spikes and spines protruding every so long against it.

Ruby red gaze shifted to her team. Fas seemed to be on coke or something, Throven was no doubt looking a bit dejected at having been forced to sit out and missing the earlier antics. Clash...Clash was being Clash. The silent stoic hero that he always was. The counter balance to the madness of her team. Poor b*****d. Hitting a hard turn, the seatbelt avoiding Team Success would find themselves bouncing and tumbling out the back of the plane. Free falling down into what was often referred to as hell.

Bloodwater Marsh

Her body was like a ragdoll, oddly loose and relaxed despite the fact that she was being tossed around and thrown into a freefall towards what should've been a dangerous impact. Instead, the woman wore a small smile on her face, blood stained dress flapping around her slender frame. Curious gaze studied the landscape calmly as she fell. Noting clearly the heavy mist and seemingly endless expanse of water. Her landing was far from graceful, of course, the woman crashing into the water without any sort of form or grace. And as she rose up, she already had a leach attached to her cheek.

She'd pluck it free and toss it back into the water as she surveyed the surroundings. The wait deep water was warm. Like...shower on the hottest setting warm. It was tingling, a painful soreness that wouldn't go away. Swallowing and grinning, she'd give a bit of a shiver as the screeching filled the air. This place truely was hell, and for once...Sokoya felt like she belonged somewhere. Everything here seemed dedicated to hurting you. The water nearly boiled your flesh off. The animals continually feasted upon your lifeblood. Even her sense of hearing was being assaulted!

Suppressing a giggle, the maniac of a woman would look for someone or something to attack. Figures moved about in the fog, but it wasn't clear just who it was. Good thing it didn't matter. It was a well known fact that Sokoya cared little for her team captain, or anyone on her team for the matter. She'd long since promised him that she'd tear him limb from limb and devour the chunks. Perhaps today was the day she'd live up the promise under the excuse of 'Oh, I couldn't see you because of the fog.' Splashing through the water, she'd make her way gleefully towards the others. They were some distance away, of course, but she'd get there eventually.

Eyes shut tightly against the filth and parasites that swam its waters, Fasumbra saw nothing of his surroundings. But even if he had opened them, he would have seen no further than he had when they were shut, so what would be the point? Similarly, the half-elf heard nothing but vague, indistinct sounds as Tres began shouting back at his whispered invitation. Oh, but the things he could feel. When pressed on the issue of his Mana Sense, Fasumbra had related it to the mechanism sea predators such as sharks use to locate prey even in dark waters; the ability to detect changes in the ‘pressure’ around him, in this case being the pressure of living beings against the faint traces of ambient energies filling the air. The leeches, hording on every bit of exposed flesh they could find, were tiny blips on his ‘radar’ compared to the feeling of humanity so nearby.

But oh, things were beginning to become so much clearer. Tresondros had apparently cast a spell of some sort as he fell, allowing him to land somewhat more smoothly than the others and walk across the surface of the waters. Unbeknownst to Tres, the act of casting the spell lit him up like fireworks in a moonless sky to Fasumbra’s Mana Sense, causing his somewhat vague life-force to be pinpointed by the surge of energy. The maddened half-elf wanted to laugh, to mock Tres, to toy with him, but even now his training guided him before his desires. There would be plenty of time for playing games once he overcame the Psion. For now he began moving more to his right, in order to circle around Tres.

I wonder how it would feel if I shattered that arm of his and tore his entrails out with it? That sounds like fun, I think I’ll try that soon.

It was about this time that Fas realized something… odd. Malenexum was not aware of this in all likelihood, but in this state Fasumbra was incapable of sensing the undead with his Mana Sense; their lack of a ‘life’ force made them all but invisible to his mind. The vampire out of sheer luck wandered not five feet from Fasumbra in his underwater crawl, the filth in the water keeping him from being spotted outright. Unfortunately for Malenexum, their proximity lead Fas to realize he had missed something that his Mana Sense couldn’t detect. You see, while the vampire was entirely invisible to the Mana Sense, the mass of leeches attached to his body were not. The tiny, wriggling parasites covering the vampires body, feasting on dead blood, formed a connect-the-dots outline of Malenexum that Fas unraveled after a moment’s thought. He froze in his tracks.

Almost caught me off guard you bloodsucking filth. I think I’ll shred you apart first and see if your kind screams as well as the living.

The thought was too much to bear. Breaking Tres like a crystal ornament was entertaining, but here he had something he could toy with that wouldn’t stop crying so quickly. He paused a moment, slowly turning himself beneath the water to face the vampire, no surface disturbances there to give him away. Fas could feel his lungs beginning to burn, the need for air beginning to be a demand from his brain rather than taken for granted. But he paused, only for a few seconds, to see which way his prey was moving. After the vampire took another two steps, Fas lifted himself upwards. Slowly, with infinite care and composure, he rose out of the water to shoulder height, keeping the majority of himself beneath the water. Leeches writhed across his face and neck, faint lines of blood seeping from each spot where one gorged itself on his blood. With the same graceful slowness, Fasumbra raised his right hand, pointing it at the vampire’s back.

At about this moment Fasumbra noticed that a certain human being had surged forward, interrupting the planned strike. Distantly the half-elf recognized him as an ally, Clash, but that wasn’t important. What was important was him interfering with his hunt. Thankfully he hadn’t begun casting a spell yet, so his cover was not yet blown. Silently, he took a deep breath and submerged himself once more, feeling the hot sting of the wound on his cheek. For only a moment he waited, letting Clash reach melee range with the vampire.

Then, he struck.

Clash’s furious rush forward provided a significant amount of cover for him, the slight ripples caused by Fas’ advance stifled by the churning waters from Clash’ legs. Fas moved two feet forward beneath the water in his stealthy crawl, and just as Clash reached Malenexum he pushed off with his legs, exploding out of the water less than three feet from both of them, a scream of rage erupting from his throat. Fasumbra’s arms were outstretched, looking to get a hand on the vampire in some way. Any way. But that didn’t matter much; the half-elf was a living missile, and Malenexum was his target.

[Post 1 of 17]

Bloodwater Mist - Chapter 2

It was but a moment. Just a flash of something. Yet the vile suggestiveness of it singed his mind and plagued him not unlike the sickly black ichor spreading through Tres's crystalline arm. With a gaze like that of a cornered animal Tres called for his blade into his hand. A green streak erupted in the sky and in Tres's right hand he now held the green object. He would not gaze into the magnificent shine of the emerald blade for the truth of things danced in its reflection. It was a weapon of pure psionic energy and in Tres's case the distillation of his very arrogance. It was confidence given form and its edge would find the path to his dream.

If one happened to look into the glass like shine of his blade they would see that flash of a vision. Bodies rose from the feted reaking waters of the reddened bog. They lay unmoving on the surface of the water with their bodies bloated and hideously warped. He could only see their backs but he knew who knew who they were and what they were named. The horror broke something inside of him as their names echoed in his mind. Lovi was there, Lian was there, his fans were there, the people of Sigil were there and he wallowed in the bloodwater of those who adored him.

He felt very alone in that moment.

Tres had done this, he knew it deep it in his heart but he dare not admit to himself. He dare not bring it to the surface because it was a secret too weighty to uphold. He held it down with anger, resentment, delusion, and self-pitty. He could not have done this! So it must have been them!

They who stood against him now.

They had taken away everything that could have loved him!

They were jealous!

If they couldn't be the peoples champion nobody would!

THEY OUGHT TO NUMBER AMONG THE DEAD!

He had not been looking at his blade, his attention was cast elsewhere. Above the water he got an interesting perspective down into the steaming pools and could see just enough of an odd reoccuring distortion moving through the leech filled waters that he realized something had been moving from beneath that had came out of the woods. Tres had not known if was Fasumbra there but he noted that his path was coming towards Malenexum.

Suddenly the psion kicked off the steaming surface of the water and changed levels as he went sliding against the surface of the liquid. He got into the lead right crouched stance that a wrestler usually took before performing a double leg takedown. In his right hand Tres held the short sword shaped mind blade held back pointed forward and he gazed with menacing hawk eyes towards Fasumbra. His left crystalline hand that had a disgusting looking black liquid begin to drip from it into the hot pools under which they stood. Fasumbra would notice the psion approaching from his left along the body of the water elevated about three feet off the ground.

Tres attempted to get into striking range with his blade but suddenly as he came in close his left hand rose from the water, carrying with it a ball of leeches that had failed to suck through the crystalline hand that dipped gingerly into the water. Tres attempted to chuck a ball of the leeches at Fasumbra's face just as he rose from the water to leap into the now moving fray of Malexenum and Clash. The ball of leeches hurtled towards his face, aiming to obscure his vision as he rose from the water.

This mother ******** wanted him. Well it was not Tres who came.

IT WAS A MONSTER!

And it was not the peoples champion who grinned at him so knowingly. It was someone else...

Tres would arrive to intercept the half-elf missile finally once he passed the now gone pair of Clash and Mal, engaging him at his left flank in an attempt to capitalize on his hopeful blindness. Tres still stood above the water then, crouched low and leaning forward but still balanced on his squared footing. His left crystalline hand was on guard and his right hand was poised with his blade pointing forward outside of his bent right knee. His left open hand was held out forward on guard. Tres was only in range to where he could strike with his own weapon but not within arms reach.

PP: 28 [(-3) Call Mind Blade] [1/2 - Up the Walls]

~SLIMY!~ The voice screamed in her own head as Gloria waded in the water. She managed to land without getting herself completely submerged, and despite being used to the sauna-like temperatures, the feel of leeches crawling over her wasn't exactly appealing. No amount of psionic imagery could remove the horrors in her head.

"I shoulda let Radek keep me locked up," she mumbled, advancing on the man who had charged Malen. The man charged her vampiric teammate like a bull, which made him Gloria's target.

Code: [*] Mind Dagger [i] [Immediate - 4 points]

Glory can focus her psionic energy into a slim dagger-like blade of pink energy. It's length is about 8 inches and 2.5 inches wide at the base. The blade can cut as well as a steel blade and its cutting power is dependent on the strike that it is used against. However with a hard enough impact Gloria could punch through about a half inch of steel. She can throw it with mentally influenced aiming and can use it block as well. It can take damage and be destroyed, but can be rematerialized at the next behest. If thrown, it will always return to her hand as long as it stays within 20 feet or it will dissipate.

As she closed the gap at the man's backside, her left hand would come above the water, bringing the slim pink blade of her mind dagger with it. She watched Malen retaliate and, after some fancy swordplay, try to impale Clash in the belly. Moving herself out of the path in case Clash stepped to the side, Gloria would bring her mind blade across Clash's lower back, aiming to sever his spine while his attention was on the vampire.

PP: 26/30

As the fighters and their ... quirky spectator Throven attempted to adapt to their surroundings and coordinate an all-out battle royale, fate intervened.

An extremely fast metal object the size of a small car went screaming past the competitors, perhaps 15 feet above in the dense steam cloud. Too fast, mixed with the poor vision conditions, to get any indicator of just what it was; you could presume it was a vehicle of some type. A specially designed aircraft vehicle. Dispensed from it.. were two males.

One, crashing into the waters some ways apart from the fighters, was one [Moonblade]. The other.. a man in shining, golden armor. A full suit, no less. It was gaudy, and yet, his feet crushed many leeches below it-- many more attempting to bite through metal in futility. The water oozed through metal seams, attempting to burn away at his flesh to no noticeable effect. Yes, the expression on his face was not one of discomfort. Instead, it was maddeningly sated.. disturbingly, one could even attribute it as orgasmic.

"Stop! Stop, at once! I've an ANNOUNCEMENT from the high committee for your BATTLES!" Loud, booming, stoic..

....that voice melted into a wispy, croaking one from the brown haired knight's vacant, wide eyes. "Eheheh. Just kidding. I really was sent here though. I was told to inform you all that your fighting assignments are changed! Let me see if I remember the names right.. Trezz versus Sookaya? Clash andddddd Mali... Malinax! Malinax. And, Gloryah n' Fash. One on one mano y mano. You can request a change in assignment by stabbing your chosen opponent. But be quick."

Hand to hip, the golden fellow gestured to Moonblade.

"Found this guy lurking around the Hawk. So I took him with me. He's witness I didn't try to kill any of you. Don't mind meeee, fiiiiight gooooooood!" Clap, clap, clap. Just like that, gauntlets clicking together. Closer inspection of his open face mask, and you could see around the rims of the man's eyes, dead flesh sacks. His limbs were too .. rigid too, even with fluid movement. Like they had been artificially relaxed with a drug of some type.

[CHALLENGE] (Posts 2+.)

Sokoya x Tres

Gloria x Fasumbra

Malenexum x Clash

And so.. this man, Moonblade, and Throven were now in the sidelines. Ripples of water still bounced here and there from the impact landing.

"Hey, while we're waiting, anybody ever tell either of you why you can't get out of this place without the right kind of help? It's.. sorta neat!"

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

But he hadn't stopped his gauntlets clicking. They kept on clapping to a beat.

Things seemed to have gone poorly rather quickly. Much more quickly than Fasumbra would have liked, or even imagined.

Somehow Malenexum managed to surge forward and entirely out of his grasp in a split second, something that Fasumbra knew had to be attributed to luck; otherwise, why hadn’t the vampire attacked him while he was blind and deaf in the water nearby? But that mattered less than the flurry of events that greeted him during his brief flight through the air. Fas’ focus on leaping out at Malenexum blinded him to Tres rushing up to his side, his Mana Sense momentarily forgotten. Upon exiting the water he was met with a handful of leeches splattering his face, which surprised him enough to for all intents and purposes ‘blind’ Fas as Tres wanted. Thankfully leeches typically had difficulty attaching themselves to something if they weren’t in water with it, so all but a couple simply splattered off him and back into the steaming waters.

You will die for that. As painfully and as slowly as I can possibly imagine, Tresondros.

Landing in the water a good number of feet away, Fasumbra quickly regained his balance and stood up into a half-crouch. Tres attempted to chase him down, but it was unlikely he was running faster than Fas leapt so the half-elf had a moment of time to assess the situation. Tres was still using magic, so his presence was unmistakable as he walked across the surface of the water. Mana Sense was no longer necessary however; his failed leap took all the element of surprise out of his assault, and it had been rather pointless psychologically since apparently ODESSA was still raring to go.

Well then, it was time to move from the calm to the storm. There was no more time for idle threats.

If Tres was meeting his challenge, then it would have been rude to turn him down. After all, he came all this way! So the only thing remaining now was to properly greet the crystalline psion. And oh, what greetings Fasumbra had. Sokoya was approaching from behind Tres, something Fasumbra noticed but cared little about. The girl had decided to go after his prey, so regardless of if she wanted to help or merely wanted it for herself, Fasumbra had no intention of giving it up.

Foolish girl. This battlefield is not for you to tread.

Fas stood to full height as Tres approached. The half-elf judged the distance to be about 4-5 feet, which was perfectly fine with him. Any closer would be risking Tres lunging forward, though Fas doubted he would manage it with Sokoya threatening him. The girl grabbed for the crystal blade as Tres fell into the water, and the psion responded with a kick to her shin.

And Fasumbra screamed.

Primal Scream

It began similarly to his earlier cry of rage, the one he let loose at he leapt at the unsuspecting vampire nearby. Then, suddenly, the volume of his outburst exploded upward as though someone had suddenly plugged Fasumbra into a very large amp. The others, including Clash, would consider themselves thankful for receiving only a fraction of the effect, thanks to the lack of acoustic influence in their environment. Tres and Sokoya? Not so much.

The optimal range for this technique, the Primal Scream, was within four feet. Inside that range Fasumbra’s shout could deafen an opponent, as well as briefly disrupt the function of the inner ear and knock them entirely off balance. Tres was only a foot outside that ideal range, which meant that while he may not have been as decimated by it as possible, he would still suffer some nasty effects. Temporary deafness aside from the ringing in the ears, perhaps a mild dizziness caused by his inner ear being irritated. But beyond that, there was another question, one Fasumbra hadn’t even considered when he let loose; how well would Tres’ body handle the sonic pressure, considering some parts of him were entirely composed of psionic crystals?

As for dearest Sokoya, who for the moment shared quite a bit of Fasumbra’s interests, she was probably only a foot further away from Fas than Tres was. Thanks to the arena’s open nature the sound waves would have significantly less impact if one were further away or simply not in their path, but she would still get some loud ringing in her poor little delicate ears and perhaps be deafened somewhat. Maybe she liked screamers?

If there was any indication Fasumbra was losing his mind, this was probably it. Though Sokoya was quite obviously insane, and despite her secret fantasies about killing and devouring Fasumbra, the half-elf had tried to be friendly and supportive of her whenever he could. Internally he had a bad feeling whenever they were together. Sokoya was like having a pet tiger; you never know when she might decide ‘today’s the day I eat your sorry a**’. But Fasumbra had been friendly all the same.

Now? Now he was slinging spells when he very clearly knew she was in his line of fire. Fasumbra was beyond caring about ‘the team’ or his ‘family’. All that mattered now was destroying the pathetic, inferior worms that crawled this hellish world with him. The spell was almost finished, but Fasumbra had just a bit left of its influence. So he chose not to waste it, though it was unlikely Tres would even hear his words.

“COME, FACE YOUR DEATH TRESONDROS!”

Fasumbra clawed his gauntlet-covered hand violently across his neck and the lower part of his face, tearing off a mass of leeches along with small portions of his flesh. The pain stoked the fires of his hatred, and Tres was going to receive the hottest of it.

In case Sokoya didn’t get the hint, she’d better go chew on Glory instead.

((In case it isn't painfully obvious, I am officially requesting a change in designated opponent to Tres.))

[Post 2 of 17]

Abilities Utilized Wrote:

Mana Remaining: 14/15

Name: Primal Scream

Type/Target Wind (Sonic) Projection/Opponent

Cost: 1 mp

Description: Fas looses a roar of hate and aggression, augmented by a touch of Wind-based magic. While capable of only mild damage (comparable to being too close to the sound system at a concert), the action is generally intended to intimidate. It should be noted that at close range (within 4 feet), the scream can cause more significant damage along with a slight loss of balance. It is also subject to the laws of acoustics, and thus the effect can be enhanced or dampened depending on the environment. For example, in a tunnel or other enclosed space there’s less room for sound to dissipate, and the scream can be as loud as it is close-range much further away.

The Duke of Id Wrote:

His descent would abruptly stop as soon as it had begun, only clearing the threshold of the water before the vampiric strength would allow him to resist the downwards push.

The Heartless (his sword) would once again move forth rapidly and retract just as fast, this time in a semi-circular motion that would attempt to cut the man's offending forearm off. Even if the foolish human used his body weight plus impulse to push the vampire into the water, Malenexum could lift Clash's arm up with his strength before hitting ground and then proceed to counterattack. And this is exactly what he would do. He would forcefully stand up, whether the man's hand had gotten cut off or not, and once again strike as he stood, this time as a thrust just after finishing the previous slash, aimed straight at Clash's lower torso which he could see at this distance.[/size]

The Heartless (his sword) would once again move forth rapidly and retract just as fast, this time in a semi-circular motion that would attempt to cut the man's offending hand off. Even if the foolish human used his body weight plus impulse to push the vampire into the water, Malenexum could lift Clash's arm up with his strength before hitting ground and then proceed to counterattack. And this is exactly what he would do. He would forcefully stand up, whether the man's hand had gotten cut off or not, and once again strike as he stood, this time as a thrust just after finishing the previous slash, aimed straight at Clash's lower torso which he could see at this distance.

The vampire could not possibly sever Clash's right forearm on the fall, using a circular motion or not, without slitting his own neck open. Plus, he had to catch himself, or pick himself up from the fall.

The Duke of Id Wrote:

Now it would become a fight of blade versus hand. He'd teach this mongrel why weapons were invented in the first place, and even if he managed to sunder it, why a human shouldn't mess with a vampire! The last human he'd gone up against had his face bitten off and half his torso destroyed; he'd gladly repeat the past. As Malenexum attacked his right hand slowly gathered necrotic energy to its palm, already planning to finish off this fool as soon as possible.

The vampire had clearly underestimated his opponent, a young, spry, vicious wrestler. As Malenexum pulled his face away from the arena's stone floor, Clash, leading with his right leg, attacked from an angle, simply attempting to grab his adversary by the back of the head as the vampire breached the threshold of the water only to slam him down again crookedly.

Could the vampire possibly summon his darkball under such brutalization? (And which hand was he holding that sword in, exactly?)

2

The arrival of their mediators, while obscure, was wholly ignored by the fighters in most aspects. Aside from the fact that everyone split from the former battle royale into simple one on ones. Spinning from where she had been at Clash's back to the man was glaring daggers into her mentor. Feeling like the weasel she was, she advanced quickly at his backside

Destructive Forces Wrote:

And Fasumbra screamed.

“KHAAAAAAAAAAAN!”

The shout rattled her, even from behind him, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle yet. Part of her was just glad she went for a back assault and not his front.

"Stop crying and take you beating like a man!" The shout was woefully out of character for her, but didn't stop her from pulling her arm back and drive her fist towards Fasumbra's back. Armor or not, her mind blade would make him pay attention to her. Her right arm was raised alongside her head, ready for a potential backhand when he noticed her.

Or just piss him off to high heaven and get her squashed like a bug.

Meh.

PP: 26/30

ROLL

"Yup. Shouldn't have said ****** st!"

Gloria regretted letting her surprise attack get ruined by her own hubris. Maybe she just hated blindsiding someone. Maybe she just wanted to feel like real fighter and fight her opponent face to face. Maybe--

Fasumbra's Mom Wrote:

"GREEAKKKGHGHGHG!!!! GREREAKGKGGKGGHK!!"

"Sunnavabitch!" Her right hand went to her ear to block out some of the shrieking, as she kept an eye on Fasumbra in case he was somehow immune to it. He seemed just as affected--

Oh, he started charging at her.

Moving into his charge, she dropped her right hand enough to and brought it up sharply, to smack his hand out of the way. Her left hand, still armed with the mind blade came in, aimed to pierce his chest as he was trying to get an uppercut ready with his other hand. He was probably trying to hold her in place to pummel her. And that didn't seem too fun.

Code: [*] Extend Reach [Standard - 2 points]

Gloria can warp the shape of her mind blade and extend its length with the use of telekinetic energy. This extension last for four post after its use, then Gloria must spend a power point every post to keep the extension active. Gloria may extend her weapons reach by a maximum of five feet.

As it looked like she was about to eat his punch to chance a stab with her dagger, her green eyes flashed briefly as she stabbed at him. The blade would shimmer, then extend like a lance in an instant, going from eight inches to three feet in length. He may have longer arms than her, but hopefully the element of surprise would catch him off guard.

PP: 24/30

Extend: 1/4

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

-3-

How much better this fight would have been if Tres had acted this supposed ability and hold his ground. Sokoya would have selflessly sacrificed her entire back just for the chance to impale the man, much like how so many of her fan boys wanted to do her. Yes, the girl had her own fan club. While she couldn't boast the whole of Sigil backing her, because that was just delusional, she could claim a fervent cult of followers. Ones that truly understood her mindset. The true pleasure of the flesh could only be experienced by shedding it. Strip by painful strip.

Tres just couldn't see the world with her eyes. But she could teach him.

She must!

Her tackling attempt would fall short of her lesson plans, however. She could not feel the satisfying sensation of puncturing through flesh and organs with her shoulder. Instead, she found herself soon plunged into the most hellish bath one could imagine. Her body entirely submerged, the platinum haired brawler could barely contain her sheer joy at the developments. How could she have not thought to throw her whole body into the water. More leeches could freely attach themselves to her! Her whole body could feel that painful stink of water that was just too hot. It took some self control to keep her mind focused on the fight. Poor Tresondros wasn't able to experience this pain. She had to make sure that he shared it with her. And that he too would enjoy it.

The wrestler's curiously green arm would snake it's way around Sokoya's neck as he sprawled out, too frightened by her advanced to take a proper hit. The woman was instantly submerged, as stated before. Frantic to dig into him, she would claw up at his already bloodied right arm with her taloned left, hoping to shred into it mercilessly despite getting a face full of mud. Apparently the Bone Mistress hadn't even noticed her previous damage from her blade. Her bloodlust hadn't been sated in the slightest. If anything, it grew worse. Sokoya needed that feeling. She needed to be inside him!

The girl trusted her instincts to guide her to this. It was painfully apparent how different the two fought. For Soak, there was no cost too high to land an attack. There was no strategy except brute power. Brute force. Pure violence. There was no skill involved, just who wanted to maim the other person more. And she was here to show her desire triumphed over even the so called People's Champion. Her torn up right arm was still very much capable of moving, and so it would be lifted up. Up above her shoulder and valiantly thrusted into Tres's exposed side. Her aim would be fairly accurate, if only because Sokoya could feel his body on top of her, cooking with her.

The attack was poised to thrust into the man's lower gut. Not where that pesky ribcage might make it into a glancing blow. No, she wanted to run him straight through. Stick him like a pig! It'd be so beautiful! But wait, what about that demon monkey? Well...the girl was underwater feeding the leeches. It'd just have to try better next time.

MP: 9/10

The Female of the Species Wrote:

> Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

-3-

How much better this fight would have been if Tres had acted this supposed ability and hold his ground. Sokoya would have selflessly sacrificed her entire back just for the chance to impale the man, much like how so many of her fan boys wanted to do her. Yes, the girl had her own fan club. While she couldn't boast the whole of Sigil backing her, because that was just delusional, she could claim a fervent cult of followers. Ones that truly understood her mindset. The true pleasure of the flesh could only be experienced by shedding it. Strip by painful strip.

Tres just couldn't see the world with her eyes. But she could teach him.

She must!

Her tackling attempt would fall short of her lesson plans, however. She could not feel the satisfying sensation of puncturing through flesh and organs with her shoulder. Instead, she found herself soon plunged into the most hellish bath one could imagine. Her body entirely submerged, the platinum haired brawler could barely contain her sheer joy at the developments. How could she have not thought to throw her whole body into the water. More leeches could freely attach themselves to her! Her whole body could feel that painful stink of water that was just too hot. It took some self control to keep her mind focused on the fight. Poor Tresondros wasn't able to experience this pain. She had to make sure that he shared it with her. And that he too would enjoy it.

The wrestler's curiously green arm would snake it's way around Sokoya's neck as he sprawled out, too frightened by her advanced to take a proper hit. The woman was instantly submerged, as stated before. Frantic to dig into him, she would claw up at his already bloodied right arm with her taloned left, hoping to shred into it mercilessly despite getting a face full of mud. Apparently the Bone Mistress hadn't even noticed her previous damage from her blade. Her bloodlust hadn't been sated in the slightest. If anything, it grew worse. Sokoya needed that feeling. She needed to be inside him!

The girl trusted her instincts to guide her to this. It was painfully apparent how different the two fought. For Soak, there was no cost too high to land an attack. There was no strategy except brute power. Brute force. Pure violence. There was no skill involved, just who wanted to maim the other person more. And she was here to show her desire triumphed over even the so called People's Champion. Her torn up right arm was still very much capable of moving, and so it would be lifted up. Up above her shoulder and valiantly thrusted into Tres's exposed side. Her aim would be fairly accurate, if only because Sokoya could feel his body on top of her, cooking with her.

The attack was poised to thrust into the man's lower gut. Not where that pesky ribcage might make it into a glancing blow. No, she wanted to run him straight through. Stick him like a pig! It'd be so beautiful! But wait, what about that demon monkey? Well...the girl was underwater feeding the leeches. It'd just have to try better next time.

MP: 9/10

Bloodwater Mist - Chapter 4 - s**t JUST GOT REAL

Her talon left tore into the right triceps of Tres's right arm and he released a lions roar of pain that was gargled in the steaming waters beneath him. Black ooze wormed from the wound and rose to the surface despite the odd properties of the burning waters. Beautiful streams of red, black and silver 0oZzed to the surface of the waters in a slow motioned hypnotic almost sensuous dance. These mad colors churned and burned around them where there bodies were submerged beneath the noxious waves in a violent bloody tangle.

Yet as the lion howled in pain he continued his explosive series of motions without a single moment wasted after the last. Fierce rage ceased his focus and aimed it towards a single purpose. Yet this purpose held great meaning and equally great skill. Tres used his tripod like positioning to circle himself 90 degrees to arrive at Sokoya's side rather than her front. He did this by stepping to the left while keeping his upperbody as the central axis.

The blade holding Sokoya's left hand down held steady despite the flayed flesh at the tricep of the warm that held it. Tres's left hand would stay around her body as he snaked the spiky crystalline down under Sokoya's chin and neck. By snaking his arm he not only promised to rake the flesh beneath Sokoya's queer dress but to maintain a constant amount of pressure that would keep the bone maidens upper body pinned down into the muddy dirt of the red sea. As Tres passed the 45th degree of the 90degree turn into side control,Tres would use his body to pin her down with his upperbody pressed against her back

Smoothly flowing through the motion like a well oiled machine until...

SKSSHHH!

"Ugh!~"

A blade ripped into his side. The blow had been made awkward by Tres's continued motion. Despite the blade only piercing into an upper layer of flesh, it pierced through a wide segment of flesh and because Tres decided to continue moving to the right, the bone would now tear a wide and profusely bleeding wound in a very wide segment of Tres's along Tres's left side.

"~GHRAAAAAAAAAAAAH"

Tres released a glorious shout of agony that Sokoya was sure to relish. Yet, perhaps in her refined taste in the agony of men she would notice a peculiar nuance of the bouquet. This particular flavor was that of maddening rage. The Ecstuffuans were not known for their anger but it was not because of the tenor of their furies. It was because of there rare occurrence. However, there lurked a terrible beast in this family. Imparted to them because they were not quick to anger and when that anger finally came.

Well...

IT MEANT SOMETHING

The moment after the bone blade tore from Tres's flesh, raw emotional power ran through Tres's body.

Some would say it was electricity

The right arm covered in blood that scurried in ribbon like tatters arrived against Sokoya's feminine hips. Using his body and his arm against her hips and his left arm around her neck he tightened his grip into a monstrous vice that was not unlike resting in the hand of king kong.

It would be this moment, even the hardened sadomasochist Sokoya would note a slight feeling of unease.

Because just as soon as that vice tightened the moment Tres arrived in position, Tres would plant his feet into the earth and Sokoya would feel a sudden and terrible ascent into the heavens.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

What rose from that waters then was not a man. It was something immortal. Not unlike the statues of heroes in ancient civilizations. Cords of muscle, like steel stretched taught bulged magnificently beneath the almost stone like sickly white texture of Tres's body. He exploded up from the waters, Holding Sokoya's body in a tight vice like some giant offering a lamb to the heavens for the gods to slaughter. After he rose from the water Sokoya would feel her body turn counter clockwise to arrive upside down with her body now parallel against Tres.

Her head...

Was aimed to the ground

AND THAT WAS EXACTLY WHERE TRES SENT IT NEXT!

Using every bit of power and pain he could muster in that very moment, he through his body down through the water and smashed Sokoya's head into through the boiling waters and into the muddy earth below. It was going to hurt, but the soft mud beneath would make sure no mistakes happened.

Tres would sit out during this slam, placing Sokoya with her back against him and her butt in the air, with his left crystalline arm in her face. Tres would not hear it with his ears beneath the now painfully hot water. However, he would be happy to know when they would later tell him what echoed through the bloodwater bog.

OOOMEEEEEGAAAA DRIIIIIVAAAAAAA!

PP: 28 [Create Sound (-0)]

[Leeches Effect 2/17]

[Hot Water effect HotBurningUnbearableScalding]

-4-

Finally!

The satisfying feeling of blades pushing their way through flesh. She could finally experience it after waiting so long. Sokoya had nearly gotten impatient. No, not really. Her head was barely in the game at this point, what with it cooking steadily underneath the water. She knew full well she would be trapped on a hospital bed somewhere for a while after this fight. Knowing that she was going to be stuck, though, let her inhibitions run wild. I think. Does Sokoya even have any inhibitions? I'll get back to you on that one.

Taloned fingers dug into his already damaged right arm, plucking and tearing at whatever flesh they could find purchase on. Greedily attempting to take whole chunks out of the man. He had plenty of muscles anyway, surely he had some to spare the poor girl. She just wanted a taste....just one taste! Thankfully, her follow up blow to the man's side would connect as well. Satisfying her primal urge. Her desire to have him. The sharp spike would puncture his flesh, even if it wouldn't puncture his organs. Her knees felt weak from the sensation of ripping through the man...and maybe blood loss.

It wasn't a fight ender, though. Oh no.

Dazed as she was, Sokoya either noticed far too late or just didn't care as the brutish Tresondros grabbed a hold of her entire frame and burst free out of the water. Looking like something out a movie, the pair would rise from the dark depths, if only for a moment. The bone queen would take this time to regain her breath, and idly wonder why the whole world was suddenly upside down. Head near his crotch, a** in his face. "That's not how you 69..." And then she would take the dive.

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The Female of the Species Wrote:

-4-

Something hard brushed past the girl's face, barely registering against nerves that were nearly shot at this point. His green arm. That arm that smelled so delicious. Looked so delicious. She had to have it! Struggling from her grasp, Sokoya would grip onto that arm as best as she could before opening wide. Impossibly wide. Though Tres couldn't see it, the girl was posed to take a nice big bit out of his exposed arm. b*h's mouth looked like an angler fish or something. Nevermind that his arm was in fact crystal. st was just gunna be rock candy to her.

MP: 10/10

Chapter 5 - Bloodwater Mist

CRUNCH

The distended jaws of the feminine beast clutched within the psions hands collapsed upon Tres's already damaged crystalline left arm. The crystal of the arm was like stone, but Sokoya's trained jaws would take advantage of the flaws imparted in the arms complex gem like matrix. These flaws had been formed in the eliminator round. It would take only a moment, but once it passed Sokoya's shark like bite would find its way through the prominent and protective outer layer of the crystalline fore-arm and eventually begin to grind into the core.

Now what people usually didn't understand about Tres's arm is that it wasn't just some mechanical prosthetic. It was every bit a part of him as his own flesh. So when Sokoya bit through it and gnawed through that armor like exterior he would feel it. However this discomfort would pale in comparison to what washed over him when her jagged teeth tore into that porous, almost sea sponge like core. Sokoya would notice a peculiar but delectable taste when she got into that crunchy center. This was not just a sensitive part of Tres's arm, this was his second brain. This second brain that Tres had grown had been largely responsible for his prodigious psionic growth and right now Sokoya was biting into it.

Sokoya was biting into Tres's brain.

There were no words to explain how much this hurt. However perhaps even muffled beneath the steaming waves Tres's screams would suffice.

AAAAAAGGHHHHH

Tres's body convulsed uncontrollably beneath the near boiling hot waters. It was not an agony that Tres could control with malice and hate. The feeble discomfort of the negg that infected his system would be unnoticed by the flood of agony that engulfed Tres's world in that moment. However Tres was not the only one who would suffer because of the damage inflicted on him with that bite. The black liquid that had spread through Tres's crystalline arm would spurt out from the limb filling Sokoya's mouth with the ebony negg that was causing Tres random burst of pain and the occasional hallucination. Along with numerous crystalline bits, Sokoya would find an awkward texture who's taste could only be described as Spicy.

SARQ Wrote:

Tres has a persisting Infection with reduced symptoms similar to during the round. Same roll conditions [1d100/Odd #s incur penalty], but it's only physical pain for successful odds rolls, low numbers having larger effects. Any successes under 20 induce a hallucination that lasts only one second in real time, but however long Tres feels he wants to hallucinate for ICly. Subconscious time is relative, obviously.

Soon, Sokoya would feel the effects. However she would not feel them as tres did.

She would experience something much worse.

Glory Sieg Wrote:

Fas would have been happy to let Gloria continue to believe his entire body was covered in magic armor, since the psychological advantage that provided was quite helpful. Only the Godhand would protect him from blades, the Shigtoh’s cloth design being little use against anything with an edge. Hence the painful slice carved into his deltoid. But that mattered very little at the moment. Fas was having too much fun playing with this girl.

Vaguely, he could feel her left arm slip around his leg just after his knee smashed itself into her ribs. That had been quite an enjoyable sensation, but he needed to do much worse to her or he wouldn’t be satisfied. In the midst of his talking Gloria snapped her head forward, attempting to headbutt him. Fas had no way of knowing it was a feint, so he was forced to lean his head back a bit to make sure she wouldn’t be able to hit him. Thankfully he was significantly taller than her (unless the author assumes too much and Gloria is somewhere near 6’7”), so keeping his head away from hers was simple and wouldn’t compromise his balance. Well, no more than it was already.

The plan to do terrible things to Gloria was running into a snag in the form of Gloria’s left hand gripping the back of his thigh. Normally, Fas would have made a clever innuendo about the woman’s desire to be frisky with him. Instead, in his vicious mindset, he saw only the chance to make her pay for being such an irritating piece of filth.

When Gloria managed to retract her left arm almost immediately after his deflection, evading his initial grab and slipping it under his raised right leg, he immediately abandoned the attempt to grab hold of it. It would have been pointless even if he did manage to grab it under his leg, and beyond that would have only served to cross himself up. So, instead, he took the opportunity to respond to her headbutt. Feinted or not, the girl was extending her head outwards, and that was a chance the maddened half-elf wasn’t going to pass up.

Fasumbra reacted immediately after the headbutt with a hard left straight, twisting it clockwise as he struck directly into the center of her pretty face. The twist had been intentional, as Fasumbra knew that Gloria would be going for something with her free right hand; the twist as he struck, along with the bullet-like straightness of the punch, would disrupt her right arm as it attempted to shove him back and send it somewhat outwards, to her right. It wouldn’t send her arm flying back or even wildly off target, merely block it enough to keep her from utterly unbalancing him. It was also nice that Gloria allowed him the opportunity to keep a grip on her shoulder, which would be helpful in keeping her nice and still when he punched at her.

That being said, he was still imbalanced in more ways than one. He couldn’t fully rotate his hips into the attack, and his base was still sketchy thanks to being on one leg. That robbed the punch of a significant amount of power. Lucky for Gloria. At least, relatively.

Because the Godhand was still active. As the punch struck the field would blast outward with its signature somewhat-electrical pop, amplifying the impact significantly. Normally a Godhand-empowered strike was comparable to being hit with a sledgehammer, but in this case it would be limited to the strength of Fas’ normal left straight, as though he were in optimal position when he threw it. Still, that amount of power was nothing to sneeze at. Another reason Gloria was lucky was in fact because of the Godhand’s field; the energy field projecting forward actually protected her from the steel plates and rivets covering their surface normally, preventing the jutting bits of metal from slicing her face up beyond what the impact of his large fist would.

Regardless of if his punch landed squarely on her nose as Fas intended, he immediately moved to nullify her attempts to trip him up. Fas felt her leg slide behind him as she had attempted to shove him, and considered himself lucky she hadn’t decided to reap at his leg with it rather than just use it to trip him. Fas pushed off with his somewhat-free leg and began to simply lean on her, putting as much of his two-hundred sixty pounds on her as he could. Rather than trying to free his right leg he squeezed it inwards and hooked his ankle around the back of her left leg, attempting to regain some sense of a solid base. If Gloria wanted to try and carry him, Fasumbra would be more than happy to let her do so. He also released the grip on her shoulder, instead wrapping his long right arm around the back of her neck, hugging her towards his chest with crushing force.

If Gloria was capable of being observant at the moment, she would find that the Godhand’s field was gone on both hands, not just the one that had hit her.

“How was that one, woman? Not falling asleep yet are we?” Gloria might notice Fas hiding a hiss of pain under his mocking growl, the stinging pain in his left shoulder being aggrivated by the impacts from blocking her shove and punching her.

Quote:** Wrote:

Godhand Cooldown: 2 turns remaining

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

-5-

Crunch!

Like cracking a walnut, Sokoya's vicious teeth would snap into the shell of Tresondro's arm. Moments later, sensations would bloom in her mouth. Spongy. Chewy. Juicy. Tasty. Painful. It truely was the world's best candy! Her moan would vibrate up Tres's arm as she hit her peak for what was presumably the second time of the match. The black ickor that was splooged into her mouth and trickled down her lips and throat revitalized the woman. It was a new wave of pain, and thus pleasure, that brought feeling back into her numbing limbs. Nerves that had been all but fried by the endless cooking of the swamp and the assault of the leeches has new life breathed into them. Apparently Soak wasn't out for the count just yet. Oh no, not yet.

But she wasn't out of the frying pan yet. Or the boiling pot in this case? And poor Tres. She'd eaten his brain like some sort of zombie. Sokoya could feel the sudden burst of energy as she'd bitten into him. Like the final flash of a lightbulb that burned out, it blinked out. The energy greedily gulped down, but at a cost. The corruption that'd been festering in his lip would soon spread into her, like a bad STD. Infecting her with the madness. The consumption. Made one wonder how her mind was going to hold up under the strain. Only time would tell. In the mean time, there was a fight to handle.

Tresondros wouldn't have to try too hard to pry the biter off him. She was weakened from her trembling...experience. This was only compounded by the heat and steady bloodloss. Let's not forget that her right arm had been torn to st even before getting flung from the airplane. And she didn't have some fancy mind parachute. After the psion grabbed himself a handful of a and then prompted booted(kneed) the girl away from himself like some prostitute who lingered a bit too long after payment. Splashing through the water, the girl would tumble for a moment like a rag doll before her senses came back to her.

Moments later, she emerged from the waters looking like some horror movie rip off of a baywatch babe. Sundress soaked, dirty, torn. Bloodstained. One arm a bloodied mess, the other a horrific limb that looked like it belonged on a demon. Black ooze still drained out of the girl's mouth and dripped from her chin. Her normally starch white hair was tainted pink, a mixture of the water and what was likely a good crack on the top of her head. But, most important of all, would be the wide wicked grin on the girl's face. The fiery passion that burned behind those crimson eyes. Despite all of it. She seemed happy. Blissful. The man's comments washed over her as if she didn't hear him.

"Ha."

She'd laugh, voice ragged as she was still winded. Gaze slowly shifted down, sliding along the man's well muscled form to land on that green crystal blade in his right hand. Watching, unblinking, as it morphed it's way into a new form. A new sexy toy to play with. And it looked fun too. Absent mindedly, Sokoya would pluck a leech from the side of her face and flicked it back into the water. As if an after thought, she would begin to channel. To charge. If he was going to get a new toy to work with, it would only be fair that she would too. And unfortunately, hers didn't come on demand. But the waiting could be fun.

"Ha."

"Hahahaha."

"HAHAHAHAHAHA"

"Kill." Kill who? She'd leave the answer open.

MP:10/10

The Bloodwater Bog - CHAPTER 6

As Sokoya rose from the waves red rolled through the steaming waters and engulfed the bog as far as the eye could see. The sky dyed with red of the same color and suddenly the world seemed to bleed. The bodies of the millions rose back first up to the surface of the waters around the psion and that b***h standing on the other side, she just grinned. Sokoya mocked Tres's loss and his his emotional agony at the sight of those who loved him stricken dead for no reason at all. A distant familiar sound ebbed towards them along a poisonous cloud.

With time, the chanting of a name, a chant that Tres had achieved great glories under struck him with deep horror.

TRES TRES TRES TRES TRES

The millions.

They chanted. They called the name of their champion. Yet, here they lay, beset upon Tres on all sides stinking in the hot moist air as they rotted into the leech infested waters. Yet he heard their voices as clear as he ever had. In the next imaginary moment that stretched seconds into hours the dead bodies that floated along began to stir. They turned vertical in the waters and stood and slowly rose up like puppets on a string. The bodies of the millions that surrounded both Tres and Sokoya faced the pair, with their bodies grotesquely disfigured by the leeches that had filled and swelled their insides; devouring their dead carcasses from within. Yet it was these leeches who squirmed within the bodies, rolling upon one another, that animated the rancid broiled flesh of the millions of people Tres had known in his life. Leeches fell sloppily from their gaping mouths as they continued to chant his name!

TRES TRES TRES TRES TRES

And their voices began to fall out of synch from one another, forming a noxious cacophony of a monsters howl. The sound seemed to cause Tres to bleed slightly faster from his left side wound. It was becoming apparent that the psion was sensitive to certain frequencies. The bleeding wound at Tres's side was ugly and painful but luckily it hadn't ran deep. Blood also ran down and dripped from his right elbow into the steaming waters below.

"GREEAKKKGHGHGHG!!!! GREREAKGKGGKGGHK!!"

With his face contorted in the horror of what he beheld. Madness truly took him in that moment because Tres lost himself in the moment. With his ears ringing painfully and beginning to bleed he shouted back.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

He refused to let the darkness take him and with that barbaric animalistic shout the psion rushed forward to engage the enemy at the outside striking range. With his ears still ringing from not having been able to guess the timing of that sounds appearance both in his nightmares and reality. Tres knew that he was tripping out because of whatever was done to him, but he also knew that he had to fight it.

Tres leaped up on the water, standing upon the surface of the water like he had done before. He used his psionic power to take total control of his physical form, for one purpose.

He wasn't going to let Sokoya desecrate the bodies of his fans!

Tres crouched down in his stance and then pushed forward with his legs to slide against the water towards Sokoya. He crouched in a level change wrestlers stance as he slid towards Sokoya on the surface of the burning waves. Leeches squirmed against his legs but in the wind of his motion they quickly fell off from the now hole ridden set of pants.

Once Tres arrived in striking range of Sokoya he would pump his legs to stop his slide against the water. Boiling hot water would be kicked off in an arching wave into Sokoya's face from the sudden stop like ice from a hockey players blade.

After stopping at outside boxing range the psion launched a jab with his scissor at Sokoya's grinning teeth. He would break those shark like talons for what they did to him!

PP: 23 [Up the Walls (-4)]

Water Heat: None

Leech Effect: 4

Excellent.

Fasumbra took more than a little satisfaction from the impact on Gloria’s cheek, though it hadn’t been as gory and dramatic as the shattered nose he’d been hoping for. Still, it was probably going to hurt after the fight and leave some impressive bruising under her eye, which was good enough for so early in this battle. He just needed to keep things going, keep hurting her until she cried and begged him for mercy. In the midst of his thoughts, he realized she was responding to his taunting from a moment ago, though it was somewhat muffled by her face being pressed into his armored chest.

Glory Sieg Wrote:

"Not falling asleep yet, love."

The half-elf was about to reply… before alarm bells went off. Though he couldn’t see Gloria’s eyes shine green when she cast the spell summoning another blade, his Mana Sense screamed out at him the fact that she was doing something. His Mana Sense was limited at the moment so he had no idea what exactly she was doing; all he knew was that she was doing some manner of magic. That aside, Fasumbra had to go with the assumption that she was probably making another weapon since that was all he’d actually seen her do with her abilities. If she were indeed making another blade, it was likely not appearing in her left hand because she still had a hold on his right leg. So, that meant it was likely in her right hand. Which he abruptly realized was behind his back.

“GRAAAAAGH!”

Fasumbra had spent too much time wallowing in her misery and his own enjoyment of it, allowing her to get the slip on him. With virtually no time to do anything he forcefully twisted his torso counterclockwise, trying at least to make her strike not land where she intended. Even maddened as he was, the sensation of being… penetrated was not a pleasant one. The blade was quite sharp and slid through the Shigtoh’s sturdy cloth with unnerving ease, penetrating into hard muscle and then into the softer tissues inside his body. By sheer luck the blade missed his kidney by inches, but that meant nothing as far as the pain he felt, the disturbing sensation of being stabbed surging through his body along with a massive rush of adrenaline…

…and hatred unmatched by any but the gods.

Left arm snapped downward, smashing itself into her right forearm in an attempt to disarm her as well as cause significant pain from the steel bits covering the surface of the Godhand. After making impact he would grab hold of that same arm and grip it as tightly as he could, which meant she probably wouldn’t be getting away if he did get a grip on her. But that was the least of her worries. Fasumbra smashed his right leg downward with a considerable amount of force along with his entire weight. If Gloria had been having trouble trying to carry him, it was unlikely she could keep a grip on his leg now as he forced it down. So, right leg freed, it stamped hard into the floor of the arena, beneath the water and also behind her left leg which it had been wrapped around a moment ago. Freeing his leg wasn’t entirely necessary for the next step, but it would help.

Fasumbra used his right arm that was trapping her against him to grab a huge handful of her hair, unless of course her hair was too short to grab; in that case he’d simply grip the back of her skull with his vice-like hand. Once he managed that he’d twist upwards, forcing her to turn her face up to him where she could see his expression. Face contorted in a combination of pain and rage, emerald eyes suddenly shining outward like beacons, teeth bared and hissing, blood leaking slowly down his face where he tore off the leeches a few moments ago. Then, his mouth opened, and Gloria would find his breath was somehow far hotter than the water below her feet; a harsh wind, dry like the desert.

Death followed after it.

“BLAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH!”

From Fasumbra’s mouth came a torrent of liquid flames, flames that would hit her and then roll down her body fluidly, burning her every inch they touched. 1st degree burns would be immediate wherever they touched, with the 2nd degree right behind it if the flames managed to stay attached to her for more than a couple seconds. But that wasn’t the only injury they would inflict. Upon hitting the water beneath them, its already scalding temperature would erupt upwards into a boiling fury, escalating the damage she would receive even further.

This technique was part of the reason for Fasumbra’s armor being made of high-durability fibers, including Kevlar. Beyond his throat and mouth where the flames came from he was completely susceptible to his own magic, and in fact as he belched forth the great flames small fires appeared on his chest from stray motes of the blaze. They would snuff themselves out rather quickly though, and would do little more than leave scorch marks on its surface. The boiling water beneath him, however, was a different story. Though he was protected from direct flames the water’s heat increase would be soaked into the very fiber of his armor, burning him. However it was still more protection than Gloria likely had, so the damage he took would have been insignificant compared to the barbequing she was taking.

Small price to pay for making her suffer.

[Post 6 of 17]

Abilities Utilized Wrote:

Mana Remaining: 11/15

Name: Spit Fire

Type/Target Fire Torrent/Opponent

Cost: 3 mp + 1 each additional 1/2 turn

Description: Summoning up internal Mana, Fas spews flames from his mouth in a heavy torrent. Rather than being a jet similar to a flamethrower, the flames come forth closer to liquid fire, and can be projected as far as 4 feet in front of Fas. The initial magic does not last very long, however, and the flames burn themselves out after a single turn if they have nothing to fuel them.

Roll

-6-

"Now that's what I want to hear!" Gloria replied in a cheerful tone. She was already in the midst of withdrawing her hand, so his swat simply made her pull it back faster. If he hadn't noticed by now, she was adept as avoiding getting grabbed. Somewhat.

Quote:** Wrote:

"GREEAKKKGHGHGHG!!!! GREREAKGKGGKGGHK!!"

As he finally realized letting her hold onto his leg wasn't helping him as much as he'd liked, Gloria used the time to stop hugging him. Both hands came up straight up her side for his right arm as she she felt it shift. Her left at his upper arm, her right at his wrist. Luckily her hair was still in the ponytail she'd worn the entire tournament. For once, fashion paid off. Twisting her to the side, she threw herself downward, scraping her head against his armor lightly, even as he tried to gain a hold of hair. She disappeared below the water, the demonic howls of the monkey ringing in her ears. As she was submerged, she was suddenly keenly aware of how hot her legs were, having been in the water the entire time. She was practically boiling herself!

Code: [*] Burst [Immediate - 1 points]

This power increases Gloria's movement speed by pushing herself forward (or in another direction) with a telekinetic thrust. It allows her to move at 10 more feet per post than she normally could at her base land speed (which is about that of an average athletic person). This power can be manifested quickly because it doesn't require a lot of focus as to where the energy is being applied. She can also use this ability to displace herself in the air about 10 feet in any single direction (a straight path).

Immediately after dropping herself below the surface, her body would zip to the left, carried ten feet to the side by a burst of psionic power. It was only after she stopped that she realized the water she was in was much cooler than where she was previously. Returning to the surface, she stayed crouched, only her head above the water, Her pink hair was near impossible to hide under the water anyway.

"Over here," she chided coyly, watching the flames dissipate on the water's surface. She felt the leeches slither over the body she had just submerged, biting and sucking on her like a drunken prom date.

~These judges are messed up.~

PP: 22/30

Sir Clash Wrote:

As the two clinched, Clash used his right hand in an attempt to grab Malenexum by the trachea and flop him by throwing his body weight into him as the vampire entered range.

With Clash's right arm guarding his organs, Malenexum would find it nearly impossible to slash the fighter's right side, although the vampire might come away with a cut on the outside of his adversary's arm as Clash bowled into him.

_______If his adversary's arm had gotten hit, then this would cause said arm to not only lose important muscle connections from the elbow to the wrist, but it would also fracture whatever bone it hit. The masked man's hits were made with brazen strength and brutality behind them. His already impressive vampiric strength was currently doubled in potency. Each hit was like getting struck by a battering ram focused on a single point: the edge of the blade. It would be a miracle if the arm was still attached, let alone functioning.

_______Clash's right arm left his side, went upwards to grab Malen by the neck and left the human's side exposed. Instantly after the first slash another one would follow, however, and if Clash used his arm to grab he wouldn't be using it to defend at the same time; particularly when the vampire was aiming for the human mongrel's lower ribs. It wasn't like Clash's knees were bent or anything so that his arm could reach that low while choking a man. Speaking of which, the man's grabbing of the vampire's throat, which was probably considerably less stronger than it would normally be due to the gash and fracture on his arm, would be ignored. When Clash attempted to push the masked vampire backwards to tip him over...

...he'd stumble into Malenexum, who didn't budge an inch.

_______Legs with the power of a small horse would keep his balance straight forward, left leg firmly dug into wet, hot stone and mud underneath their feet and pushing to keep him in place. Right leg would do the same, shifting, sliding along the ground if necessary to keep him standing. His boots would stick him to the floor as they stood, forcing for opponent's feet to either slide and give way depending on his footwear, or continue pushing against the undead juggernaut in vain. Using his current pseudo-magical ability, being as strong as a horse was not a simile or a metaphor. Currently Malenexum was able to lift three times his own weight with some fighting effort, so the human's body weight was largely negligible. That's not to mention Malen's right, hooked arm behind Clash's back which would, at the moment when the human would push, tense forcefully around the man's torso to keep him in place. When it came to a demonstration of power, in this case Malenexum would come out winning. Simply put: he was stronger.

_______By now both their flesh were scalding from the unbearably hot temperatures, but what set Malenexum aside from Clash was his current ability which allowed his skin the resilience of thick, armor-like leather across his entire body. Including his neck. This made any efforts of choking the vampire a dubious agenda at best considering the gash along his arm which would hinder his grip... of course, this would be assuming he took the hit to the arm to save his precious sides. It was a matter of whether the human would sacrifice an arm for an open wound along the right side of his lower torso.

Whichever the case, Clash was getting sliced.

_______Again and again, too. For even with his opponent's renewed proximity, Malen only needed to shift his left arm's positioning a little and continue hacking and stabbing away into Clash's right side. If push came to shove and Clash got too close, he'd begin backstabbing the human. Another louder growl came from the mask, rumbling into the mongrel's body as it was once again deciphered into the same word as before.

"KNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEL!!!!"

[Mask of the Slasher: Active]

[Murderous Rampage: Active]

V

[41; Prev: Pg 3 HoH '12 [Semi-Finals: Success vs ODESSA] Bloodwater Mists]

Tresondros Ecstuffuan Wrote:

-6-

It seems things have hit something of a peak. Sokoya was, for lack of a better word, overwhelmed by everything going on. Her limbs felt weak and heavy from the constant heat and blood loss. Her head throbbed from that damned screeching monkey and the slam she'd taken earlier. Now there was that black poison infecting her system. Wracking the woman's body with waves of pain. Confusing her addled brain. Perhaps that's why Tresondro's image seemed to distort in her view. The well muscled wrestler seeming to...shrink.

"Cameron?"

Sokoya knew those odd glasses and stupid scarf anywhere. That b*****d thief had long ago went into hiding following the collapse of the Venom Signet. Probably for fear of his life. The man had a talent for making enemies. Came with the constant backstabbing and...you know...stealing stuff. What did he do to Soak then, you might wonder. The man befriended her. Gained her trust. Then turned on her. Kidnapped her. And opened up the girls' ribcage to poke around a bit. Sokoya still had a scar running down her chest. The only flaw on her otherwise perfect skin. So surely you might understand the level of hatred that welled up in her upon seeing him in front of her.

A second later, the image would vanish but the hate remained. It was a passion that brought a second wind to her. As Tres charged her the girl stood her ground. Waiting patiently. He certainly had a height advantage, in a way, But without a weapon to fully make use of it, things would get awkward. Finally his strike came, a simple jab towards Sokoya with his blade...thing. It'd likely be coming down at a fairly sharp angle. But not before trying to splash her face with that scalding hot water. Seemed to be a common enough tactic. She closed her eyes as the water splashed over her face. Not much different than what she'd been put through earlier.

Charging forward, she'd open her eyes in time to shift her head to the side somewhat. There wasn't much time to react to that jab, the result being that it'd slice sensually through the girl's cheek as she pushed past it. From here, she had plenty of options for attack, but she went with the simplest. The man's legs were at torso level already, undefended and still recovering from his charging motion. Surely an easy target for her spike. No, make that spikes. Expending her charge, Sokoya would sprout another spike from her opposing hand and then, in turn, slash them at the man's knee caps.

She was gunna gut him like a ******** fish once she got him back down to her level.

MP: 8/10

Bloodwater Mist - Chapter 7

The scissor scraped across the bone maidens cheek and Sokoya responded with a fierce stab to his left kneecap with her right hand. A field of crystal that grew from an almost liquid like plasma that oozed from Tres's pores gathered in front of Tres's knee.

show spoilerhide spoiler

Crystal Skin

[Immediate - 4 points]

Due to Tres's new ability to metabolize psionic (astral) crystal inside of his body, he can cause crystal to grow along areas of his skin by drawing the microscopic bits of psi-crystal through his blood stream and layering it on top of the skin. He may do this anywhere on his body but his head or his torso. This quickly formed growth of crystal along the skin can protect Tres from a single armed strike before shattering.

The crystal skin can prevent a weapon from breaking through the skin but Tres can still feel the shock of the blow leaving behind internal damage. The crystal remains in place until it is either reabsorbed or broken. He may only cover one limb at a time, such as his forearm or shin.

Tres can also use this ability for offensive purposes, such as layering his forearm with a crystal bracer before striking the opponent to produce a more heavy blow. The crystal produced by this technique may be altered with the 'alter crystal' ability but when doing so Tres may only mold the crystal into a shape that is equivalent in volume to the volume of the original shape. The crystal weighs about as much as bone per ounce.

This crystal is created using a very primative matrix, making it difficult to reshape until after it has been augmented.

At the moment of Sokoya's strike the crystal would harden into a spiky covering in front of the knee cap. Because the crystal skin was so hastily formed, the point of the bone would slam through the crystalline flesh and deflect off to the side. This would leave Tres with a grizzly wound along the left side of his knee cap but the wound did not leave the psionic warrior crippled.

Then something else terrible happened.

Later Tres would utter these words: "What the ******** Heaven or Hell?"

Wrote: -Oh! Lonesome Me: At 7th posts, acid rain will rapidly plummet onto the entire region. This will be short lived, ending the same post it starts, but will be a very intense downpour, outright soaking the fighters. Witty fighters who submerge themselves will not only still be affected, but likely coat their faces in leeches, and draw the horrific liquid into their nostrils and ear cavities. Regardless, the effects of this rain include coughing, breathing problems, irritated eyes, mucus buildup, lung burning, and if not treated by HoH's finest after this match, death. Fortunately, the tournament committee have your health in mind.

Being so focused on the battle at hand Tres hadn't looked up to notice the billowing black cloud above. With his senses so utterly engulfed he did not smell the rain before it descended upon them in a sudden and very intense torrent. In that moment after they traded blows Tres and Sokoya would be engulfed by something. All Tres knew in that moment was that he could barely see through his now burning half-shut eyes and he began to cough erratically.

He stepped back on his now bleeding knee, keeping his guard up as he coughed erratically from the noxious vapors of whatever the cloud had just released. When Tres finally could open his eyes wider and was not hampered by the fervent wheezing, he switched his right hand short sword Ogranix into a traditional grip.

He then came forward to engage in striking range with Sokoya once more. When he arrived in range he released a vicious jabbing thrust with his right hand short sword into Sokoya's left pectoral. Tres wanted to shred the muscles in this area to weaken her attack. He did not have time to ponder what had just happened.

PP: 19 [(-4) Crystal Skin]

[Up the Walls 1/2]