Round 1 ~N~ vs. Jacogos [J - Wattz]

[Wattz]

—tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock—

The arena is shrouded in darkness, an open yet strangely confined space. The ceiling is low, connected by a pillar in the center, and the walls bend to form a smooth circle.

—tick, tock, tick, tock, tick—

But glints of gold, copper, and bronze can be seen in the darkness, metallic cogs and wheels that glow just enough to illuminate the combatants, standing about ten feet apart from one another on small cogs that slowly revolve. They’re everywhere, these cogs, all horizontal and making multiple layers. Some are sharp, some are dull, some are enormous with little notches, some are spinning wildly while others turn leisurely, some are further apart than others leaving huge gaps in between, and some are even set into bizarre shapes like hearts and triangles. It is almost as if they are—

—tock, tick, tock, tick—

—stuck inside an enormous clock.

—tock, tick, tock—

The lid clicked open, and a rush of light came flooding in as the clock above the mechanics was plucked off by a pair of long and yellowing fingernails, leaving the center pillar behind. Above them loomed the face of a harlequin, holding the rusty pocket watch both combatants currently stood in. From her perspective, the two are hardly larger than specks. Her giant pores were clogged with white and black make up, her hair an ugly mess. With each word came a wave of bad breath and a jingling of bells.

“Two warriors stand on our world's final end,
On one hand a woman with blood in her eyes,
the other a man with time plenty to bend.
It should be no surprise that one of them dies.
And of course, these worlds hold other such swine
like them, deemed worthy of testing the fates.
They praise their own strength, begrudge the divine,
but they best not forget…”

—tick, tock—

“…that the clock never waits.”

The lid snapped shut.

---

NOTE: Be prepared, after each combatant has posted four times the judge will step in with a small surprise for the playing field.

At the toss of a coin, Jacogos goes first.

[Jacogos]

Uai Trakand came to her senses in darkness. She didn't remember what happened, but her senses told her that this was most likely her first fight. The tournament she signed up for... It seemed that things would be much more interesting than the simple fights in an open arena that she had thought they would be. The Yynglyng smirked slightly, studying the man who stood opposite her, barely visible in the dim lighting. In fact, she could barely see anything at all... The only thing that was vaguely bothersome at the moment was the fact that she was turning, and not of her own will. She subconsciously corrected her facing, making sure that she was always looking directly at her opponent.

She didn't have that much time to study the environment before light flared into existence from above, blinding her momentarily. She looked up, seeing the huge being towering over them, but Uai didn't pay her mind for long. With the light streaming down into the 'arena', Uai turned her gaze upon her now revealed opponent. The man she saw was remarkably... plain, to say the most. She had been in the presence of humans before, but this one she could have lost in a crowd within moments. Nothing about him struck her as odd and he seemed to be almost as well armed as she was herself... which is to say not at all. However he did have a bag, which could be holding anything, and there was some sort of projectile device at his side ((I'm assuming this is where his pistol is. If not, I'll edit)).

There was no time to see much else as with a resounding CLICK the arena was once again doused in utter darkness. Uai shook her hair from her eyes and got into a ready stance, eyes on the faint outline of her opponent. What she assumed now was that the man was a mage, though a rather oddly dressed one at that. Magi rarely carried fighting weapons, which left Uai with the idea that that was what this man was. As such, she quietly began the chant that would summon the spirits of Ionor to her.

"Ghosts of ancient and bloody battles past...
I need you once more, and it will not be the last...
Through demonic rites and sacrificial loans...
Allow me to spill his blood... and rip out his bones!"

In the dim lighting, not much could be seen, but the presence of those long since past was an ambient chill upon the air as the spirits began to filter into the air within the arena, answering the call of their beloved child.

[~N~]

Time... it's on my side, yes it is!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Top hat tipped and cane tapped, the good Doctor leaned upon it with a relaxed air of curiosity and passive interest, observing the marvels of the great clockwork device he was in and the "game" in which he would play his part. When he glimpsed the pale blonde nymph with the crimson tattoos and eyes directly across the way, he adjusted his tie and gave a very British clearing of his throat that sounded like a "ahhmmph"; a recognition both of her complete exposure and the natural reaction that a representative of the civilized world of London society might have to the exotic "savages" of the world.

This done, he swallowed and took in his surroundings with a customary Imperial eye for manipulation and detail, and the very first thing that struck him was the he was moving.

His balance and feet compensated abruptly of course, but standing on a turning cog inside a gigantic watch is enough to catch anyone off guard. The momentary half-step, half-stumble rebalancing action might've been slightly awkward and embarrassing to look upon, but considering the otherworldly environment, Dr. Waye allowed himself a measure of forgiveness for his lack of stability.

His attention was brought back to the otherworldly "Lamia" that stood before him when she started chanting her words:

"Ghosts of ancient and bloody battles past...
I need you once more, and it will not be the last...
Through demonic rites and sacrificial loans...
Allow me to spill his blood... and rip out his bones!"

"Well, I guess that about says it all, doesn't it?" he muttered under his breath in a very typical British fashion, stepping again to keep his eyes upon her in time with the rotation of the cog beneath his feet. More loudly, he addressed her--this "witchling"--with another proper clearing of his throat:

"I say, aren't you worried about catching cold? You might want to properly dress yourself next time..." he added, "... good lord knows what else could be lurking in places such as these!" Her body was nothing short of sexually attractive, but Dr. Waye was a true professional of Her Majesty's Empire, and had been trained to view such deviants with a purely scientific and dispassionately rational eye.

Besides, falling all over his baser impulses simply wouldn't have been proper.

The air chilled noticeably and yet the girl did not seem to mind. Clearly not natural, he thought to himself as he tugged his overcoat around him closer with a brief shiver stepped half again, getting used to the timing of this . He thought he sensed other presences, and concluded that they were no longer alone, based on his sensory perceptions as well as this siren's on words.

Half step, half step. Damn this infernal contraption.

But what was she? His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his spectacles. Clearly her intentions were less than civil, and downright bloody if her words were to be believed, so the answer to that internal question would obviously have to simmer for now. What a fantastic specimen for study she would make, however...

He resolved to take notes upon the happenings of this experience from memory as soon as it was over. Being as his life was clearly threatened at the moment, more pending matters like survival demanded his full attention for the time being.

The lid slammed shut, sealing them in relative surrounding ticking darkness once more. "Fantastic," Dr. Waye muttered again. "Just one more turn of the clock, I suppose." He glanced about him one more. Step, step, half-step, step.

Tap, tap, tap-tap, tap, tap, tap-tap.

Gears left, gears right, up above and down,
gears, and gears all around.
"Turning and turning in the widening gyre,
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart..."

Tap, step, tap, step...

"the centre cannot hold..." Hop.

"I say, well said, ole Yeatsy boy," he smirked landing nimbly on the next turning cog with a tapping of his cane in time with the giant clock, steadying himself after a momentary wavering to catch his balance. His figure was shrouded now in the shadows and twice as far from the other as before. Silently, Dr. Waye thanked his good fortune that his overcoat was dark as well, unlike the ghastly wraith that yet remained upon her own turning gear. Keeping both the environment and his adversary as much in his field of vision simultaneously as possible, he set down his bag and reached into it for the blowgun, a voodoo doll, and a few poison darts, keeping his actions deliberately concealed from view behind both his coat and in the darkness.

"Let us begin the game, then," he breathed, standing upright with the materials secured inside his coat, keeping his cane for balance.

[Jacogos]

Uai smirked at the Doctor's rather concerned remark, but dismissed it with a shake of her head. "You should be more worried about yourself, human. Not many of you get to see my kind as such and live to tell about it." In short, that was true. One of the few times that Yynglyngs covered themselves was in situations (rare as they were) in which they were NOT out for blood. Obviously, this was NOT one of those rare occasions.

About the time the Doctor began to move, Uai had fully summoned the spirits to her side, and they swarmed around her in a sort of menacing cocoon. The spirits were barely visible, particularly in the lack of true lighting, and as such you could hardly see them at all within the giant clock. However, when one strayed close to the luminescent cogs, you could vaguely see that they were shaped like disembodied bird heads, floating around with little wisps of black trailing from them.

Following the man with her eyes, she watched him move to a different platform, further away and now more covered by the darkness that surrounded them both. While her own body gave off a faint luminescence of its own, his was almost completely invisible from the lack of light on him. She would be at a disadvantage because of that... However, the spirits did somewhat cover her glow, as their wispy blackness trailed around her. It wasn't enough to hide, though.

Seeing that her opponent had taken to moving away, most likely to prepare for his first assault, Uai took the opportunity to glance around to gather what she could on the platforms nearest her. There was one on the same plane as hers, turning the platform slowly with its large 'teeth'. It was a much smaller platform, and turned faster. She noticed that most of the smaller platforms turned faster than the larger ones, while sometimes the opposite was true. She frowned, wishing there was a sort of rule of thumb to go by here. Sadly, this was not the case.

Turning her eyes back to her shadowed opponent when she heard him speak, she smirked slightly and hopped up and backwards onto a platform that had much sharper 'teeth' than her original one. It spun much slower than the last one, barely noticeable at all if you weren't paying attention. However, those teeth looked rather dangerous... Uai stood and watched the shadow that was the Doctor, waiting silently for him to make his first move. She wanted to know how he fought before making her own move, else she might make a costly mistake... And she would NOT stand for that.

[~N~]

Time... why you punish me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark "avian" spirits visibly swirled and darkened the form of his adversary, and Dr. Marcus Waye observed this with keen eyes, while wondering what else they were capable of. The very thought made him shudder; he had enough experience with ritualistic witch doctors, shamans, and spirit callers to last two lifetimes.

Step, step, step, the Doctor went, keeping pace and time with the gear he was on. That was the name of this little game, and as the cliche went, timing was indeed everything. He rubbed his pocket watch and allowed himself a smirk.

The gears about the twilight "arena" glimmered and at their various paces, shades and luminescence, glinting with potential and possibility. Dr. Waye glanced down at his medicine bag.

Calm steps, keeping pace now. Step, step, step. Getting the hang of this.

Time to make a decision.

Taking a sharp breath, he jumped to a higher gear, waited, steady, steady... and jumped again, using the timing of the gears and their spacing as leverage to take the high ground, putting still more distance between himself in his weird foe.

Once there, he drew his pistol and--compensating for the distance, movement, the rotation of the gear he was on, that of the gear she was on--breathed in, steadied his right arm with the left, and fired. He would only have time to do two things simultaneously in the moments that followed...

The metallic dome echoed with the raucous pandemonium he had secretly hoped for. The reverberating shot resounded through the closed arena with all the acoustics one might expect from a giant domed clock. It was utterly deafening. The gear he stood on carried the contentedly smirking Doctor fully into the shadows as he kept his eyes trained on her; observing her natural reaction to the shot.

The beautiful thing about bullets, he thought to himself while slipping out of his coat, was that they were impossible to glimpse--especially in this tenebrous environment-- and moved nearly as quickly as lightning itself. Her reaction would have to be just as swift, if she could even manage it.

With the other implements he had taken safely upon his person, he deftly reached up and hung his coat on the catching teeth of the gear above him before it made its rotation back into the light. It would be the first thing she would see as he prepared to step again from the platform. "Your move," he whispered under his breath with a smile.

[Jacogos]

Uai watched as the vague form of the human moved, this time in a more vertical direction as he attempted to achieve the higher ground. The Yynglyng smirked and gazed about for a nearby gear. A suitable target was about two feet higher than hers, as well as a good foot or more away from the one she stood upon. Without a second thought, the alien woman took a moment to build up speed before leaping to the next platform. She cleared the jump easily, landing with only a slight bending of her knees and hunching of her back.

This platform turned much faster than the previous ones, and she had to steady herself for a few precious seconds before she could maneuver upon it safely. At about 30 rpm, the gear was moving fast enough to make Uai a little dizzy from standing on it, so she quickly found her next platform and made the jump after a few revolutions of preparation.

This gear was only a single foot higher at a similar distance away, moving only a little faster than the original one Uai had appeared on. The difference in revolutions, however, threw Uai off balance, and she found herself on her hands and knees upon landing. At that moment, there was a resounding noise which made Uai attempt to roll. However, the attempt at escape was far too slow for this type of attack, and the bullet buried itself into her right shoulder.

Hissing in pain, she prevented herself from letting out any sort of cry, as she felt that would be much more dishonorable than the actual hit itself. What manner of weaponry is this? she wondered to herself. The object that had embedded itself in her shoulder was extremely painful, yet as the pain receded into an ache, she could dully feel that it was a small, likely spherical object. Warmth coated her shoulder as she registered blood spilling from the wound. She slowly got up and hissed in pain again.

With this wound, moving her arm would be painful, but it was manageable in slow, non-jerky movements. However, it also gave her an extra edge to fight with... Her Blood Control. And since it was her own wound, the blood would stay with her for a little while. Uai grimaced at the thought of using her own blood for this fight. She had rarely experimented with fighting with blood from her own wound, as she rarely planned on being hurt like this. She should've been more careful, planned better... Shaking her head, she dismissed the thoughts. No reason to be griping about what was done.

Now, she had to find her target again... Searching the glowing cogs, she caught a glimpse of something other than the platforms moving and immediately sent a stream of the spirits at it. As she further studied the object, it appeared to be the man's cloak. Trying to hide by hanging on the platforms, eh? she thought. However, when the spirits struck the object, the cloak was ripped and there was no one wearing it.

"What is this? Planting decoys, human? Hiding is dishonorable. Come out here and fight me," she announced to the arena, not bothering to hide where she was. Figuring that he couldn't have been that far from the cloak without alerting her to his presence by leaping to new platforms, Uai quickly made her way towards the now tattered article of clothing, leaping to new platforms with little regard for the gaps. By keeping moving, she could use her momentum to clear the distance between her and the human who called himself her opponent.

Abruptly, she caught sight of something obstructing the glow on one of the gears. Without further thought, she whipped the spirits around to attack the man, a literal whip with 'teeth' that would attempt to tear at his flesh as they got close enough. Of course, that assumed that she was actually attacking him.

[Wattz]

Due to apparent computer problems on ~N~'s front, I'll be extending his deadline until Monday 4:55 PM (GMT -8). The deadline was extended past the weekend because ~N~'s computer won't be fixed until the weekend. If there are any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to PM me. I've tentatively made this decision because I feel that it is unfair to penalize someone because of computer troubles.

Further details may be added to amend the decision accordingly.

EDIT:

Also before I forget, if Jacogos requires an extension at a later date, he will receive the same time span given to ~N~.

[~N~]

For every season, turn, turn, turn...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What is this? Planting decoys, human? Hiding is dishonorable. Come out here and fight me," she announced to the arena, not bothering to hide where she was.

"No," Dr. Marcus Waye muttered under his breath. His eyes took in the damage to his overcoat and he finished his thought in grim, taciturn manner of a true Englishman: "Hiding is survival."

The menacing pale lamia had taken the bait and lashed out at his fine overcoat. Though painful to watch, Dr. Waye learned two things: how she attacked with those things she called "spirits", and her vulnerability to bullets. He also observed her rashness: the "girl" clearly was short-tempered and provoked quite easily by a single shot from his gun. Dr. Waye silently complimented himself on his aim in the dark twilight of this arena, but his opponent wasn't doing herself any favors by boldly presenting herself out in the open without seeking any cover... of any kind.

Her words--born of her apparent frustration with his evasive tactics--brought a smirk to his lips. She was rattled. While this creature may have possessed a physical prowess that certainly rivaled, if not exceeded, his own, she seemingly failed to recognize that every fight was fought on more than one level, both literally, and figuratively.

And while the physical match-up was not one he was eager to engage in, he felt satisfied about the effect his psychological moves were having on her. Like a bull, she charged, and like a matador, the good Doctor was waiting. Come and get me, then.

Her leaps were stunningly graceful and bespoke of a litheness that bordered on unnatural. She had stumbled for balance on the previous gears, but her rage apparently carried her over these with an ease that surprised even him.

Still, she paid little heed to the rules of her surroundings. Everything in this place was timing, and her approach was predictably calculable for three reasons: she was more luminescent in her own body than nearly anything else in this dimly lit arena; her movements--while gymnastically praiseworthy--were still limited to the platforms of gears that allowed her to land and connect her series of jumps; and those geared platforms--in turn--were turning and required a certain timing to her nimble hops, even if she was fluidly moving from one to the next with stunning alacrity.

And so he observed, and timed her approach accordingly, just as the matador stands his ground against the incensed charging bull. The first jump saw the holstering of the pistol, laying down the cane, and the readying of the blowgun. The second saw the removal of the protective cap on a dart filled with viper venom and the loading of said dart into that gun. The third leap saw Dr. Waye clenching his jaw just as he brought the gun to his lips.

This would hurt.

The "spirit whip" lashed out. The Doctor narrowed his eyes and blew.

She was fully extended--fully committed to the attack. No time for reaction or retraction. So close that if his earlier shot with the gun hit, this one surely would.

But it would come with a price. The teeth of the spirit whip dug into the fabric of his shirt and vest, and he felt their barbs rake into his skin viciously and flay off strips of flesh like a cat-o-nine-tails. He winced and cried out with pain, feeling the burning sting of his wounds throb newly into his body. The "whip" tore along his back and side, throwing him off balance before releasing him from its savage attack. His cane had dropped, clattering down from one gear to the next, followed by the good doctor himself.

He arched and fell, slipping from the platform he was on down to hit a lower gear with his other side, clumsily slipping from that one to the one below where he crumpled to his knees and tenderly pressed his right hand to his side, while the left held the blowgun. He grimaced and shut his eyes to the pain.

She would be two gears directly above him, obscured from view. He glanced up and then around, looking for another gear to go to, one that he could crawl away towards. Stumbling to his feet, clearly shaken and wavering back and forth on the turning cog, Dr. Marcus Waye gathered his wits and looked to the shadows again.

What he found was his cane one cog away, and his medicine bag one gear beyond that. Without another moment's hesitation, he tucked his blowgun away, and made for the cane, hopping to the nearest gear. His legs barely held him up while he gingerly crouched and snatched it up in his right hand. Then he sprang to the next in an equally ungraceful and desperate action, landing precariously next to the bag and snatching it up in his left hand.

Dr. Waye silently hope to God and Queen that the poisoned dart found its home in his alluring opponent, because he would not be able to endure that kind of attack easily again. He looked wildly around to where she was...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Edited to add: My PC is still FUBAR. Found out that the motherboard apparently shorted the processor. So I'm still going to be out commission for at least another week. But I'll try to continue to have these posts up in as timely a fashion as I can manage. Thank you again for the extension.

[Wattz]

Due to apparent computer problems on Jacogos's front, I'll be extending his deadline until Thursday 8:23 PM (GMT -8). The deadline may be extended longer because of the nature of the problem. If there are any questions, comments, or concerns, feel free to PM me. I've tentatively made this decision because I feel that it is unfair to penalize someone because of computer troubles.

Good luck getting your stuff fixed, ya'll!

EDIT:

Jacogos's deadline has been extended to Sunday 8:23 PM.

[Jacogos]

Alone in the dark, where the demons are torturing me...

----------------------------------------------------------------

There was a brief feeling of satisfaction as her spirits ripped a cry from the man's throat. Her satisfaction vanished suddenly, however, when she realized that the object that had been lowering from the man's face was not an appendage but instead a device that looked similar to...

She changed direction immediately, which tipped her slightly off balance, but the change didn't help that much. Though the dart only scratched her side and continued on its path, the venom that coated it entered her bloodstream uninhibited. At first she simply laughed, thinking that the dart had been harmless anyway. Unworried, her eyes sought out her opponent.

Upon her first sweep of the cog that he had been on, she found that he was no longer there. This did not discourage her, though, as she picked up the all-too-familiar tinge of blood in her nostrils, this time not her own. He was bleeding, as he should be, which immediately tilted the battle into her favor. Smirking, she reached out and gestured.

The spilled blood on the cog twitched, then slowly, jerkily became airborne and congealed into a single mass near the center of its pool. The mass hovered towards Uai and began to circle around her, acting like a wisp of sadistic make. Uai chuckled to herself, enjoying the smell of the blood on in her nose. There was nothing quite like the bloodlust that followed after a successful wounding of an enemy. The smell was invigorating... It made her forget her own bullet wound, as aching as it was becoming.

However, what it did NOT do for her was help her ignore the sudden discomfort from the scratch on her side. From her natural luminescence, she could see the wound puckering and it was becoming apparent that the stinging sensation was not just from the air hitting an open wound. She swore. Poison. Sadly, she could not work with blood that she could not see, so all she could do was take out the superficial blood, which lessened the stinging slightly. The cut was now dry, but the venom was still there. She could feel it now.

Swearing, Uai mentally pictured where his blood had been trailing before she had taken it and realized that he had most likely fallen off the cog. Leaping downwards, Uai landed lightly on the gear immediately below hers, looking around. She caught sight of unnatural movement, her eyes locking onto her prey without hesitation. Her spirits were getting anxious. They were about out of time in the mortal coil. Growling loudly, Uai dropped down again, onto the gear that the Doctor had landed on after his fall.

It was now that the venom's work became apparent. Instead of landing gracefully, Uai fell to a knee, her vision becoming a little blurry as the world spun opposite the direction the gear was spinning. She swore again, lightly. Whatever the man had put on that dart, it was potent. Standing shakily, Uai put every spirit into the whip she used this time. Her eyes focused onto the vague shape that told her where her opponent was and swung the spiritual whip at him. With all the spirits in it the whip was thicker, which was compensating for her inability to properly aim, but it also moved slower. In addition, the whip would also rip at its prey more times.

However, before more than a few would be able to attack him, the spirits would fade away, called back to Ionor as was their deal. Uai swore and fell to a knee again, hoping to hear a cry that signaled his pain again.