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 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHVeyo4W18U), 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 (http://smbproductions.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/crow.jpg), 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? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7dUvvAgAmJA)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4ga_M5Zdn4&noredirect=1)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"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! XD

EDIT:

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

[Jacogos]

Alone in the dark, where the demons are torturing me... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3vbKnPFFkA8)


----------------------------------------------------------------
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.

[~N~]

Astronomy! The stars! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kgqDtU8BXf0)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thump. A low, painful growl accompanied the luminescent and wounded figure that landed right where he had been just moments ago.

Oh. Right then. There she is, the Doctor mused, his body shuddering a bit as he realized the predatory female had just landed, albeit ungracefully, and still appeared to be functioning in spite of the viper venom coursing through her veins! "Dear God!" he gasped, marveling at her tenacity and capacity to continue.

As the gear brought him around, he hefted the medicine bag to the next gear, and turned to face his adversary as the gear continued its lazy circuit, steadying himself upon the moving platform and gripping his cane, the Sphinx head glinting in the shadowy glimmers of light. With a pained and frustrated growl, she unleashed her "spirit whip" this time, thicker and stronger than before.

She couldn't possibly be stronger! The exclamation flashed through the Doctor's mind, but he had no time to consider this. Injured though, he was, he had enough time to react because the whip was not as fast as before; it seemed sluggish, ill-aimed and desperate in its reach.

Gripping both hands upon cane, one lower down, the other closer to the Sphinx at its head, and gritting his teeth once more with English resoluteness, he planted his feet and thrust the cane out at the whip.

Years of studying cultures, human beings in particular, ingrained into the Doctor's bones one particular grain of wisdom: Human beings conquered their environments, and their adversaries, and each other, by engaging in wholly unnatural behavior. Instead of chasing the mouse, they laid a trap. Instead of adapting to the cold by growing fur, they created fire.

And instead of running from this blow, he stepped right into it.

The whip in all of its full thick fury lashed around, tendrils ready to rip death into him should they have their way. But like a loose shoe lace or dangling cord, somehow, these things had a way of becoming tangled in the damnedest ways. The solid whip almost eagerly wrapped itself around the cane, and when it did--when the tension was taut--the Doctor yanked it towards him with the intention of pulling its handler right with it.

He jammed the cane down between the gears with the whip wound round. Pulling out his pistol, he cocked back the barrel, and fired on his target who was so now close enough to see the blood-red of her cat-like eyes...

[Wattz]

OBSTRUCTION!

A violent groan shakes the clock, abruptly halting some of the cogs in their place with a violent jerk. They grind against each other, clearly jammed in some places. The pressure makes some of the cogs pop out of their springs in unexpected bursts.

[Jacogos]

Feel the breakdown of my body... Set me free! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWGUB6ynR8M)


----------------------------------------------------------------
She could feel the wound burning and festering even as the spirits struck. She wouldn't last much longer like this... However, it had to be over now... The spirits had struck... No... Not him... but... Her heart fluttered in surprise (also possibly from the venom) as she realized he was pulling her towards him. With the whip. Made of spiritual birds. She groaned as her traction gave way and the next cog was reached without much effort.

By some grace of Ionor, the spirits dissipated before the man could pull her all the way to her. In the moment that it took her to regain her footing, she watched in almost slow motion as the man pulled out a none too familiar object. That must be the thing that gave me that first wound... Though Uai was unfamiliar with gunpowder weaponry from where she was from, it was obvious that this was the only thing capable of doing such damage as that first weapon, as well as resembling the laser weaponry of her planet. However, this time... This time, the weapon was much MUCH closer...

Her mind worked much faster than her body was willing to. Luckily, the only thing she COULD do didn't require much in the ways of the physical realm. The mass of blood that still followed her moved, ever so slowly it appeared to her, to protect her with a nudge from her brain. She was hoping that the physics of hunting fish in water would apply to this projectile as well... The gun fired, and the bullet went through the mass of blood, exiting the mass off course (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vQvqESdCk7U). The miniature missile grazed Uai's cheek, but otherwise went away harmlessly. The blood collapsed onto the gear, her concentration gone, and suddenly things got even louder than the gunfire.

The gear that she was on jerked to a halt, unbalancing her already precarious balance and sending her close to the edge of the cog, laying on her unharmed side. She winced in pain at the sudden landing, but praised Ionor that it had not been on the other side, which was now discoloring and seemed to be on the point of decay. However, she now had other things to worry about. A cog from above had popped out of place and came crashing down onto the cog that the Doctor had originally fallen onto, causing said gear to slip out of place itself. This chain reaction made Uai's gear teeter, causing the Yynglyng to quickly have to decide on a course of action.

She peered over the side that she was near. The next lowest cogs were quite far down, easily a bone breaking fall. Either way of falling would harm her beyond repair, which would cost her the match without a doubt. However, it was apparent that the man's gear was not going to fall like her's was. So she made her decision. Using the spilled blood from the mass as well as the man's own that was still seeping from his wounds, Uai formed a line that fused the blood from the man's wounds to the rest of it. Congealing the blood, the line hardened enough to be used as such and Uai gripped the line like a ice climber would their belay. Unless the man could wipe the blood away before it congealed and stuck to him, Uai would be tethered to him and would either drag him down with her or force him to pull her up as well just to save himself.

The cog teetered, paused for a moment, and the fell. As gravity took a hold of her and Uai felt the weightlessness of falling, she was prepared to face Ionor one last time on the chance that her plan did not work. All she could do now is hope... And pray for one last chance as the viper venom started to seep into her heart through her arteries.

[~N~]

It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnQ8N1KacJc)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The entire "clock" groaned and shook, gears grinding, springs popping, and the cacophony of it all assailed the good Doctor's ears from all sides. He wondered briefly, his eyes flickering back to his cane, if in fact he was the one responsible for this sudden jamming of the gears!

"Gor Blimey!" he caught himself saying. But that was not the only reason for exclamation.

His naked young female opponent lost her balance, as was his intention, but managed to somehow deflect his bullet with a manipulation of...

... was that blood?

Not only that, but when she tried to regain her footing, and the whole damned contraption began to have a fit, her own gear, the gear he himself had been on not moments ago, stopped and began to tilt, threatening to send her into the darkened abyss of the gears down below, glinting in only the faintest of lights like waiting teeth in an open maw.

No doubt sensing her own survival in the balance, his opponent had used her blood manipulation powers to secure the barest crimson cord to Dr. Waye's own body, which surprised the living daylights out of him. His wide eyes met hers only for the briefest moment before she plunged down into the blackness, the cord pulling taut and tugging the body of the Doctor now with it.

It was all too fast and unpredictable for the Doctor to brace himself properly, and despite the best efforts of his feet to keep him from sliding towards the edge of his own gear, her weight was simply too much, too fast to negotiate reasonably in any kind of graceful fashion.

"Bloody hell!" he gasped, shoes skidding, his chest hitting the flat metal surface of the gear as his hands desperately reached out and gripped the still-lodged cane for dear life, dropping his gun in the process. "By God and Queen, she's trying to take me down with her!" Marcus breathed out in exasperation, his body straining, tied to the "blood cord", his moist palms wrapped white-knuckled around the cane, holding steady--thank God!--in its place between the gears.

Ahead of him, on the next gear, the Doctor glimpsed his medicine bag. He realized that he held both of their lives in his hands now, and the only likely way out of this entanglement was in that bag. He didn't know how far down she was, nor how far the cord stretched, but it didn't matter at this point. Gritting his teeth, the good Doctor pulled like his life depended on it.

Shaking, straining, he neared the cane. Good girl that she was, the wood strained under the weight, bowed a bit, but held fast. Bloody good English cane, thought the Doctor with a pained smile. "That's it ole girl, just keep steady. Keep holding fast for both of us."

Closer. Pull. Closer. Pull. And then he hooked his arm around the cane, pressing it to his face. Okay, he thought. First step down.

The locked gears groaned and shifted downwards.

"Christ!" he breathed in frustration and fear. The medicine bag actually slid towards him a bit! "Talk about a mixed blessing," he muttered. He was angled closer to plunging to his own death, even as his means of salvation was brought a little closer to him. It was like some big game played for the amusement of capricious gods.

Hooking his leg around the cane, he pulled himself up further, bracing against it and the uneven teeth of the locked gears.

Another timorous GROOOAAAAN! sent the gears tilting even more, now at a thirty degree angle below the level. The Doctor was sweating, facing down the slope of the gear, his eyes following the cord over the edge, wondering just how far down she was. His legs hooked and braced and he used all of his strength to pull the cord again towards him, winding it round between his arm and hands to make a loop, like a man rolling up a rope or hose, only this required physical exertion far beyond that to which the English doctor was accustomed.

After two more loops, he circled them around the cane.

GROOAANNN, CREEEEAAAK!!

"Christ, bloody Christ, bloody hell!" he exclaimed, the gears tilting further, forty degrees now.

The bag bunched against his shoulder. "Oh good Lord," Marcus muttered. He gave himself only a few feet of cord, no longer tugging on him, with the three loops around the cane now supporting the weight of his opponent.

Fidgeting around while keeping his bracing hold, his fingers reaching in and searching frantically through the bag while his eyes watched for any sign of her at all, he finally found what he was looking for:

His Liston knife.

The blade flashed and shimmered as he brought it expertly down upon the cord, cutting right through it like a man practiced in surgery and trained in the finest university in London (which he was). The cord was severed. The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief but nearly soiled himself when the gears groaned and creaked again, shifting downward at a forty-five degree angle.

The loops still held the cord and his opponents salvation fast to his cane. Dr. Waye glanced at it again and thought about her, and the situation they both found themselves in, inside this enormous clockwork contraption. He breathed hard, recovering as he realized something.

While the physical cord between them had been severed, he felt for a moment that their connection had not. He knew nothing of this being, except that she desired, for whatever reason, to end his own life. And yet, his profession, his training, demanded that he at least attempt to save hers. He could cut the cord looped around the cane right now and send her to almost certain death, or he could take another way.

His gun was gone. Like the bag, it had slipped too, but unlike the bag, had fallen away from him, clinking down below in an echoing reminder of how far down the drop really was.

Shaking his head, the good Doctor muttered a few more curses with some "bloody"'s and some "hell"'s and a couple "Christ"'s thrown in for good measure and glanced around again. He wasn't able to do more than he had done for her as far as the cane, and he wasn't about to put himself at more risk than he was.

Freed from the cord, he resolved to leave the cord intact, tied to his cane, which he would also be forced to leave behind, so she had a way up, should she choose to use it. He knew the venom had to be working in her veins, so she couldn't be in good shape. Besides that, she had the bullet still lodged inside of her, no doubt weakening her further.

Grabbing the bag, he carefully pulled himself up, grabbing for handholds on the jutting teeth of the gears, and placing his feet appropriately so as to ensure some kind of safe positioning. The gigantic clock shook and groaned again, as Dr. Waye latched on, like a bug on a car, while the great beast heaved, and popped springs and sent projectile gears shooting across the chasm, one metallic cog nearly missing him.

Muttering a thankful prayer, he continued his ascent to the next steady cog, grateful that it seemed heavier and sturdier than the others, but it was its stillness that won the Doctor over ultimately. Heaving the bag to it, he slumped on top of the gear, panting with exertion and fumbled for a potion inside.

When his hand emerged, it would be with a vial of antivenin and a pouch of powder he acquired from a tribe in his time in the Congo. He turned and peered down at the gears below, particularly at the dangerous downward tilting ones that his trusty cane was still lodged between, the cord held tight by it, and his opponent who would pull herself up--if she could--to it.

When he saw her, struggling, bravely pulling herself clear from the abyss, he made his move:

"Miss..." he hesitated for a moment, realizing he didn't even know her name, "Miss... I... don't want to kill you. Up to this point, you've left me little choice, but I cannot bring myself to kill someone I've barely even met, no matter how violent it seems you've been trained to be."

"I'm offering you a choice," the Doctor tentatively explained. By all logic and reason, this course of action was ill-advised, but if she truly was hellbent on coming after him at any cost, he was ready for that too. He could not simply bring himself to assume that she was completely beyond reason and salvation.

"I have in my left hand something that will cure your wounds and give you a fighting chance to survive against the poison in your veins...."

"...if you will but accept my offer to end this conflict now and allow me to learn of you and your ways, your people, so that we may deal with each other in civilized fashion! If you value your life, your future, I implore you to cease this struggle and accept my mercy and forgiveness for your savage nature!"

And then he sighed, "Otherwise I will be forced to... end your life. And I do not wish for that!"

[Jacogos]

I'm not ready to die!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFMChRsvTNs)

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

Uai felt the weightlessness... It was a part of her... It was all there was... She reserved herself to death, praying for Ionor to take her quickly... Painlessly...

That is, until her arm jerked tight as the cord pulled taut in her hand. Her arm tingled from the exertion, but she held on, grabbing on with two hands. She wasn't about to pull up until she was certain that there would be no more help up... Uai's brain felt fuzzy... thoughts were coming in slower, the space around her moving sluggishly... The venom was coursing in her veins now, not just secluded to the point of injection. The wound itself was now horrible looking, blackened and some parts skinless as the venom ate away at the molecules that made up the tissue.

Uai felt the cord pull her up a few more feet before, then stop altogether. Her head spun too much to bother looking up to see where her opponent was... All she knew was that he had either stopped moving or... She didn't know what else he could be doing, but she was no longer ascending by the cord. Swearing quietly, Uai began the arduous task of pulling herself up hand over hand... Her shoulder wound reopened, the ache and pain settling in as she was forced to work the wounded arm just as much as the other one.

For what seemed like hours the effort drug on, until she finally noticed the gear was close enough to grab onto. With a burst of energy bent on survival, she pulled herself clear of the edge, onto the tilting gear. The first thing she noticed was that her cord of blood was twined around a rod.. No, the Doctor's staff. That was how he had gotten up... Next, she noticed, after a moment of studying, that the Doctor was no longer on the tilting cog.

GROOOOOAAAAAN

Uai scrambled when she felt the cog tilt more. Before she even realized it, she was on the opposite side of the gear, onto the next, more stable one. The blood cord had been forgotten, returning to its natural state of blood and falling with the now loose gear. Uai spared a glance behind her to see where she would have been if...

"Miss... I... don't want to kill you. Up to this point, you've left me little choice, but I cannot bring myself to kill someone I've barely even met, no matter how violent it seems you've been trained to be."

Uai turned her eyes slowly to the man in front of her, slowly standing so that she was level with him. She was no longer bleeding from her shoulder, but that wound still ached, even more so now than before the ascent. Her side wound festered terribly, and the venom coursing in her blood weakened her more with every minute.

"I have in my left hand something that will cure your wounds and give you a fighting chance to survive against the poison in your veins.... if you will but accept my offer to end this conflict now and allow me to learn of you and your ways, your people, so that we may deal with each other in civilized fashion! If you value your life, your future, I implore you to cease this struggle and accept my mercy and forgiveness for your savage nature!" The man sighed, "Otherwise I will be forced to... end your life. And I do not wish for that!"

...

........

A chuckle at first... But the chuckle rose into a flurry of light giggles, which proceeded in turn into fit of laughter that pained her almost as much as the physical exertion only moments before. She laughed for what seemed like a solid ten minutes, though it was more like one or two. When she finally stopped, it faded slowly back the way it had come, to giggles and then to chuckles, ending with a final drawn out sigh of mirth.

"Sir... You apparently do not understand the circumstances of this pairing... Do you believe that you just appeared here by some... who is it you speak of? Christ? Christly intervention that pitted you in battle against me? No... Apparently you are less informed than even I. This is a tournament. The point here... Is to see which of us will proceed... and which will not." The wound was making it hard to speak. Her voice started rasping slightly, though that was more from lack of water since the battle started.

"I intend to win this tournament, sir..." She chuckled slightly, "And though I may seem defeated... I still have enough left in me to finish this fight. Understand... This is not personal..." She coughed slightly, "Simply a means to an end... I appreciate your offer... and... Under normal circumstances I'd be inclined to accept... However... For now..." Her hand rose up, leveling out parallel to the ground, fingers twisted into a claw-like form.

"You appear to be bleeding, Doctor..."

The blood that still stuck to her opponent from the original attack by the spirits suddenly rose from him, forming a small cloud of droplets. Her own blood from the shoulder wound also joined the cloud, until she had all in her sight. The movement took a blink of an eye, enough for her to clench her fist in a physical demonstration of her mental work. The droplets in the cloud swooped down towards the ground, then came back up and turned, heading towards the Doctor...

And promptly turned into needles of blood. This rain of needles would hardly pierce anything vital, but the man's skin could easily be riddle with cuts and pin pricks that would in turn bleed more for Uai to manipulate. Upon impact, the needles would turn back into splashes of blood after their damage was inflicted. The cloud would cover a good five foot diameter outwards from the where he was currently standing, compensating for as much movement as the man should be able to manage in that short amount of time.

Upon finishing the attack, Uai fell to one knee. That was about all she had left...

[~N~]

You want it, you got it. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sO_QntXc-c4)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Laughter echoing.

Drawstrings slipping.

Her words sinking

in

Blood drops gathering.

Laughter ringing.

How about a smattering

sample of THIS!

She cast her needles, and the Doctor cast his red powder right in her face. A blooming cloud of clay colored particles billowed up around her lacing skin, lips, hair, body and breath. A thousand and one needles rained down upon him as he ducked for cover, shielding his own face and chest from the storm of prickling shards that pelted him like sleet. They splashed like harmless drops but the death of a thousand cuts took on a whole new meaning for him now. Piercing, pricking, the needles did their work, but the Doctor would

bring. an. end. to. her.

Fingers scrabbled and felt frantically through the nearby medicine bag for what he was looking for. Patience, patience, hold it together, he thought to himself as he searched and dropped the antivenin in and reached something more. He gathered his wits and felt the smooth wooden polish of something much more exotic, slipping forth. And as it appeared it did so to a smile on the Doctor's face.

Just a little bit longer for the viper venom to work, just a little bit longer for the poison to wreck her cardiovascular system and creep into her heart. Just a little longer before the time this battle would end, but now was the time to introduce this bitch to some genuine fear.

Out the warmask came, the full fury of the his African weapons coming into play in a one two punch that would hit her with a lust for her own blood and unmitigated terror. Perhaps the bloodlust of the Yynglyng was getting to his sensibilities as well; perhaps it was simply the thousand points of pain that felt like the world's worst acupuncture that whittled away what was left of his patience. Whatever it was, the Doctor snapped.

"You want to play with blood? Let's play!"

Doctor slipped the mask on and used the full force of his lungs to send a wave of terror straight into her beating heart and bloodthirsty mind unlike anything she could rationally define or emotionally handle. As if in response to the effects of this shrieking torrent of terror, the clockwork arena rumbled and shook again, heaving and shifting like a giant earthquake beneath their feet, sending the Doctor down again on all fours, off-balance for a moment.

From this crouch, however, he held on, steadying himself, riding out the quake as still more spinning cogs flew into the air, shooting around at dizzying speeds, released from their springs and proper places. It felt like the whole damn arena was coming apart, collapsing in on itself like a heart attack. And when the rupture ceased once again, he was ready.

It was time to end this bloody affair.
Time to stop playing nice and show her the damage he could truly inflict.
Time to go on the offensive and seal her fate.

"Time to send you straight into the glittering abyss that awaits you, wretch!" Leaping forward, he landed and sent a powerful kick right at her lowered head and chest.

Between the bloodthirsty self-devouring psychological effects of the Cannabalism powder, the icy, supernatural terror of the African warmask, and the physical assault, the Doctor was laying down a vicious assault that wouldn't stop until her

body. hit. the. floor.

[Jacogos]

And now heaven sends its love... Your Sudden Death from above!! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PhTBgwcsre4)

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

There was little Uai could do about the powder. She did her best not to breath it in until it settled about her, but the suspicious dust got into her lungs nonetheless. At first, it seemed to have no ill effect on her, but she soon noticed what was wrong... She was hungry. Very hungry... And she craved... Her body shuddered at the thought. She craved Yynglyng meat. Whatever had been in that powder, it had somehow affected her brain, giving her cannibalistic cravings... She growled lowly, biting down on the inside of her cheek hard enough to remove a not so small portion of the flesh. Her own blood lessened the craving... Enough to think, at least.

By now, the man was rummaging through his pack, getting out... A mask? Uai stayed where she was, unable to conjure up the adrenaline needed to move at the moment. Her entire body ached... Her entire BEING ached. The venom was turning from a dull pain into a burning in her entire body, lighting her nerves on fire and dulling any sensation in comparison. She managed to at least straighten, though still down on one knee. She was about to manage to get up when the mask came into play.

"You want to play with blood? Let's play!"

Fear. Fear was something that the Yynglyng monks had been trained to omit from their lives since birth. Yynglyng babies were put into dangerous situations during most waking hours, though always supervised by adults so the child did not die. As they grew up, the situations grew more dangerous, and sometimes even removed the supervision. Only those that could brave the tests would be worthy of growing up into adulthood. Every fear imaginable was tested: Darkness, water, heights, specific creatures, solitude, pain, silence, blindness, everything was thrown at the Yynglyng youngsters in an effort to harden them to the idea of fear. Once they were old enough, they learned to dismiss all fear, particularly that of death.

Even now, though, it only helped so much. Pure terror gripped her, terror unlike any she had known before, for the simple fact that she had never BEEN afraid before. The helplessness was excruciating. Uai watched as the world shook from his yell, but all she could could truly see was the mask. Her pupils shrunk, becoming dots of fear. The tunnel vision was obvious, blinding her to all but the mask and he who wore it.

All at once, the man was up again, charging at her. He spoke something, but she didn't hear it for some reason. All of her able sense were focused on the mask. The unnatural fear was consuming her... It was all she could do just to move... She couldn't move. She was paralyzed... The fear... Fear...

No.

Adrenaline seared through her body as she moved her body just so the leg would go past her. While doing so, her arm came up and tried to wrap around his leg, which would lock him in place. She would NOT let this irrational fear get the better of her! She was a proud Yynglyng, in her prime! There was nothing that could dominate the Yynglyng race, the bloodthirsty monks of Ionor! He must have been watching over her now, as her body seemed to forget everything in hopes of simply ending this match.

With his leg captured in her grasp, Uai sent a straight-fingered jab towards the Doctor's groin, not caring about being honorable at this point. At the very least, the jab could bust a testicle, if not cause some internal bleeding otherwise. After that, Uai straightened her legs, rising and attempting to tip the man over by tossing his leg upwards. In any case, she was up now, and, with adrenaline and venom coursing through her veins, she reached out and manipulated the blood pouring from the Doctor's cuts into a spear of blood. The blood congealed, solidifying as best as it could, and Uai shoved the bloody spearhead towards her foe, attempting to gut him with all of her remaining energy.

[~N~]

We're going back in time! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgyvMp5YWcI)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Doctor was understandably taken by surprise when her arm wrapped itself around his leg, and the briefest flash of a thought managed to spring to mind in a kind of wonder about how she was still managing with the viper venom coursing through her blood.

But she clearly was--no matter how weak she may have appeared--and reminded him sharply of this fact when she sent the jab to his groin, inflicting the most horrible, crippling pain he had managed to feel to this moment in the fight.

It doubled him over, and took the wind right out of his lungs while causing him to shake in pure agony, groaning as he clutched his injured groin and tried to recover.

But it was useless. She lifted his leg from the ground, throwing him to his back, and with unbelievable energy and focus, gathered the blood together into a spear above him.

His hand slipped to his pocket, to the golden chain links that ended in a watch with two knobs. It was time.

One twist.

The spear solidified.

Two twists.

The spear came down.

On the third twist the point connected with his chest--a direct hit--right to his ribs, and he could feel it, as one might feel the threatening point of knife pressed to one's skin.

But the moment reversed itself. The point came back away, rose up. The spear scattered into blood particles. The Doctor's body recovered itself unnaturally as the Yynglyng lowered back to her knees. The painful hit to his groin was reenacted in reverse, her jab connecting and then pulling away; the damage there reversed as well, as her arm wrapped around his leg and then unwrapped sending his leg back to the position it was in just before the kick.

And then Time went forward again. The kick came forward. The arm wrapped round. The jab.

But this time, the Doctor knew it was coming and moved preternaturally to block it, grabbing her hand and wrist in his own. He could not stop her from lifting him off balance, however, and landed on his back as before.

The blood gathered, the spear forming. But again, the Doctor knew what she was about to do, and again, anticipating this, he timed his reaction t the last moment, and rolled his body to the side just clear of harm's way by the barest of inches.

Taking advantage of the moment she drove the spear into the ground fruitlessly, he sent his own counterattack kick right to her knee, his foot crushing into it with all the force and power he could muster. This would cripple her and impair her balance and movement beyond repair or compensation. Even if she was a trained fighter, able to move through the pain, the fear (as it seemed she was), broken bones and shattered joints don't respect the mind's will, whatever its strength.

A second kick went straight into her leg, higher up. The Doctor was nearly half again as heavy as she was, and those fifty-five pounds would surely be difficult to resist when it came to keeping her balance. If his second kick did not send her hanging off the gear, it would it least send her to the ground.

With his own body still functioning--better than hers, he had to believe--he rose to his feet warily, mask still on, and readied himself for whatever desperate measure she would take. Venom and the powder and her exhaustion and injuries were taking their toll. Granted, his own injuries pained him, but she couldn't last much longer, could she? I just have to outlast her, Dr. Waye told himself, bleeding and breathing heavily behind the mask.

It was just a matter of time...

[Jacogos]

For whom the bell tolls... Time marches on! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eUfSym5Pb5s&feature=fvst)

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

Uai's eyes widened when the man reacted so quickly to her attack, she could have sworn it was precognition. There was something familiar about the moment, but... There was no way he could have known she was going to do that. Continuing, she still managed to toss him off balance and continue with her plan... But then, as before, he managed to dodge in the nick of time. The spear collapsed as it hit the ground, becoming liquid once again.

It was at that moment that the Doctor sent a kick to her knee and all the pain came rushing back to her in a paralyzing moment of sheer agony. The adrenaline gone from her, Uai could barely keep conscious as she heard and felt her knee crack. Finally crying out, she managed to turn her fall into a roll that allowed her to escape the second hit, if only allowing him to nick her side, the wounded one. Crying out even more, Uai rolled as best she could out of reach.

Coming to rest on her back, the Yynglyng woman turned her head to watch her opponent and struggled to breathe. Her lungs shuddered, her heart began to beat in odd rhythm. Her breath caught slightly when she finally realized what was happening.

"I'm... dying..." she whispered to herself. It was over. She had nothing left. Her energy was gone, her strength sapped away by an Ionor-forsaken poison that had barely nicked her. The blood was flowing freely from the skinless portions of her wound and the bullet wound was festering now as well. She looked up at her opponent and her mouth tightened in harmed pride.

"So... Doctor... You have beaten me... I... am defeated... I can do nothing to stop even the most obvious death blow... I have accepted this defeat... You... are an extraordinary being. Very few... so very few can claim to have defeated an Yynglyng... But you can... I... congratulate you..."

The pain from talking was causing her voice to drop in volume. She coughed and realized blood was coming up. Wincing, she looked up towards the distant ceiling that was the lid of the clock. Then, suddenly, the clock began to chime. Some mechanism was still intact below them and now rang out in a near deafening toll that sounded every few seconds for 6 chimes.

"Doctor... If I may... after I am gone... would you grant me the honor of returning my body home to my people? You seem honorable... But I would understand if you do not..." She turned her head back towards him for a moment, red cat-eyes focusing shakily on him.

"Even if you do not deal the final blow... I am done for. May you go with the honor of Ionor, good Doctor..." She then turned her head back up to face the ceiling, closing her eyes. As the last toll sounded, Uai breathed her last breaths.


-----

I grant N the choice to deal an Auto-hit as he sees fit, in honor of the death blow. I figure I should mention that. It has been a wonderful match and I couldn't have asked for a better opponent. Cheer and may the best man turn out in the final judgement. It has been an honor, ~N~.

[~N~]

Final moments... (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=esBHOtIenjQ)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She lay there, whispering her last words, a wounded warrior... a female who garbed herself in no armor, and fought with no hesitation. She took each blow and pushed him to his very limits.

One.

And as he watched her, struggling to breathe, mouthing her last request, he could not help but feel a measure of pity and empathy for her. Slipping off the mask, Dr. Waye cautiously approached the dying young Yynglyng.

Two.

He knelt down to hear her, to examine her... to do what his profession... what his own blood compelled him to do. What every year of study, and every moment in the hospitals and out abroad had compelled him to do. He touched her; ran his fingers down over her pale slightly blue skin, wheezing from exhaustion and the deadly war of attrition the venom now wreaked upon her body.

Three.

Sticky, drying blood splattered over her crimson tattoos, and her cat-like eyes dilated while her lids opened and closed sleepily. Her beauty was exotic, and had he not been trained as a professional within the corridors of the Imperial academies of London, and had he not been in the company of beautiful and ugly bodies--both living and dead--he might have been even more seduced by her graceful and enchanting movements. But he was a doctor... a doctor who knew every part of a woman's body, and it did not surprise him that hers matched... and suffered... just as a woman's might.

Four.

Dr. Marcus Waye blinked when he heard her request: to be taken back to her people. That she was "done for", even if he chose not to end her after all.

"No," he replied, as if by natural reaction. "No, no no..." Dr. Waye repeated and rose. "God help me, not yet you aren't." He turned his gaze to the medicine bag and move towards it purposefully. It took him only a moment to find the vial of antivenin and a syringe. Plunging the needle into the vial, he filled the container and then brought it back with hurried steps. Kneeling down beside her, he found a vein and sank the needle in, pressing down on the tube a moment later.

Five.

The Doctor watched her eyes drift off, her gaze becoming distant. "I never even found out your name..." he whispered, struggling to maintain his composure and sliding his fingers gently against her throat, checking for a pulse. It was weak and erratic and fading.

"Work, goddamn it," he looked down at the syringe. All the antivenin was in her now. "Please."

But there was no response. Too little, too late perhaps. His lips tightened. He forced down his emotion. It wasn't proper.

He rose up and retrieved the bag and returned with deliberate steps.

Six.

Tightness clutched his throat. "I'll make sure you go back to your people. You're in the hands of whatever god you believe in, but if your body has any spirit or fire left in it, I will make certain it gets its chance to survive." The Doctor worked quickly. It was fieldwork and by George, he knew all about that. He dressed and cleaned her wounds as quickly as his fingers would allow; cleaned her off, careful not do any kind of dishonor to her.

And then he closed her eyes. He thought perhaps there was still a heartbeat, however faint, in there. Clenching his jaw and tightening his lips, he fought back the tears that tried to surface.

Not. Proper.

His arms went under her and bending at the knees, he lifted her up.

Then he looked up to the sky where the lid came off the clock.

"Great powers that watch this place!" Dr. Waye hollered out, with all the strength left in his body, "This 'creature' has fought well, and to the best of her ability. She has asked me to take her back to her people, back home, and I intend to see that done! Grant me leave to do this, so that I may fulfill her request, and she may return to the God she believes in, and be placed in His care, and perhaps..."

His voice choked and trailed off. He had a momentary shudder of emotion as his eyes glanced down upon the body he held in his arms, "... perhaps she might live to fight again."

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

Jacogos. I thought all weekend about this reply. It truly was the most difficult one I composed in this battle. I wanted to do right by your character--and by mine. I thought... I will kill her and give her a warrior's death; it's what she would want.

But I struggled with the thought that my Doctor could even manage that, because he is... by his profession, not a warrior as your character is.

So I did the next best thing; I decided to see her off in the way she requested. I used the autohit for the syringe of antivenin. I figure it's up in the air whether it will arrive in time to reverse the damage or not, but it gives her the barest glimmer of hope for survival.

If you intend for her to truly die, then she is at least prepared and cleaned up and done the dignity she deserves. My character would want that.

You have been a surprising opponent, and one who has challenged me to the very limits of my abilities, and for that, I salute you, sir. Thank you for this battle.

[Wattz]

I will not lie, I had the HARDEST time trying to determine a winner, so I really am sorry for the wait. I also wanted to try to be as helpful and specific as possible with these results, so if either of you feel that you have any questions I’d be glad to answer them. Thank you both so much for the read. Your characters work really well together (apart from the fact that they… you know… are trying to kill each other XD) and you both used the battle field and your character’s strengths so well, but in the end a winner had to be chosen. Here are some notes regarding my full analysis:

Jacogos:

Writing Style— The writing style had much of its entertainment value in its analysis of Uai’s thoughts, but the delivery was a bit dry in the first few posts. The sentences did not flow well into one another and the paragraphs often became thick with exposition. Though exposition is necessary and often unavoidable in battle sequences, it’s crucial to find a way to present this information in a fresh format. However, this aspect is redeemed in later posts, especially in Uai’s dialog against Waye: ”You appear to be bleeding, doctor.” Classic, yet bold. The post where Uai overcame the fear-inducing mask was incredibly suspenseful while helping us gain insight into her character, and her last post was deep and well-thought out.

Effectiveness of Combat— There’s a learning curve here I find very effective in expressing the way Uai overcame certain obstacles, such as the unfamiliarity of the battle field and the Doctor’s use of projectile weaponry. This is best shown with this example: Only after the Doctor had shot Uai with the gun did she learn that she had to move away from his projectiles, thus only earning her a scratch with the blow dart. There was a constant back and forth between the two characters where you allowed Uai to be hurt when it was most logical.

The use of the pool of manipulated blood to slow the bullet was incredibly clever, as was the blood “zip-line” to escape the falling cog to take the Doctor with. Though the moment where Uai overcame the fear might have been a little bit over-controlling, it was a perfectly reasonable decision regarding her background as a Yynglyng. However, the end result teetered dangerously close to godmodding, where the Doctor was placed in such a situation where it was practically an auto-hit (referring specifically to the jab to his groin and the mention of busting a testicle).

Control of the Field— Uai’s initial stumbling on the cogs was well warranted and realistic. It made sense that she wouldn’t be able to fully grasp the contraption at first as it fought against her usually forward style of fighting. You played well to the constant motion of the playing field and never ignored the surroundings in favor of attacking the opponent, which is exactly what I was hoping to see portrayed by either opponent in this battle.

N:

Writing Style— The writing style was the most enjoyable part about reading these posts. There was a constant use of effective sentence variation and description, and the Doctor’s thoughts were intriguing with the use of italics. I also found his dialog to be entertaining, especially when he was about to fall off the cog. The last post was especially well done, and made me feel quite attached to both of their situations.

Effectiveness of Combat— I’m a little undecided about how much Uai actually hit the Doctor. At times I felt that a hit could have been delivered when it was not, such as when the larger version of her whip was instead wrapped around his cane. Though it was a clever way to deal with the situation, and I am by no means saying that the whip could not have wrapped around the cane, but it seemed as if the force of the whip was ignored and could have caused the Doctor to at least trip or lurch forward, especially since the Doctor is not as physically strong as Uai.

Though the use of the clock to turn back time at such a pivotal moment could be seen as over-controlling, I likened its use to Uai’s overcoming of the mask’s fear-inducing power, and it made sense to use at that particular point in time. However, the end result was too much in the way of over-controlling, where Uai was placed in a situation where she couldn’t have avoided broken bones. I feel this teeters very close to godmodding. If Uai herself had determined that her bones would break upon impact, then it would have been much less of an auto-hit (this section had a lot of unwarranted auto-hitting).

Control of the Field— Waye’s initial need to understand the way the cogs worked was entertaining to read and fit his character well, and his learning curve of the field was enjoyable to read. The use of his coat to act as a decoy in the darkness was curious and innovative. I especially enjoyed the scenes after the “obstruction,” where he used the rope of blood to escape the falling cog. The scenery was never ignored in favor of taking a hit, which is the exact thing I was hoping the battle ground would encourage.

Rational:

Though N had more consistent writing style, Jacogos was able to use Uai’s abilities in exceptionally clever ways, which made both opponent’s posts extremely interesting reads. Both opponents teetered towards god-modding at some point, but N’s were more prominent, with two incidents instead of just one (two being the cane/whip incident and the bone-breaking incident), but especially because of the bone-breaking incident.

And now the result….

The lid opened. Light doused the collapsing cogs, the clock shaking violently, the grin of the harlequin returned. The carnage, oh yes, the carnage, especially the pained expression upon the Dr. Marcus Waye’s face, the warrior lying pale and broken on the ground.

A heartbeat, faint, weak, but gaining strength ever slowly….

“It looks as if… you won’t need me to…”

Uai Trakand gasped sharply, her eyes opened as the antivenin finally took effect—

“Oh good Doctor, no one could have known
that you’d bitten off more than you could chew…”

She was alive. With the place crumbling down, down, Uai scrambled to keep afloat. Dr. Marcus Waye tried the same but he slipped, lost his footing, fell down, down, down, as if into an abyss.

The moment Waye was crushed beneath a cog. Uai Trakand, saved by her will, by her God’s good graces, was the last one standing.

“So one hero falls, another one grows.”

The arena faded.