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--IC: Idgaddiy and Skondh--

"Seeing as you know my trick now, I'm sure you will," Idgaddiy replied.

At that moment, Skondh came wandering over to rejoin his boss.  "HeY, iDGaDDiY," he said.  "HoW'D YouR FiGHT Go?"

"I lost," Idgaddiy said shortly.  "And I take it you won?" he added, gesturing to the unconscious Matoran in his bodyguard's arms.

"YeaH.  i'M HoLDiNG oNTo HiM uNTiL THaT Toa oF aiR SaYS i CaN TaKe HiM To THe SToReHouSe."

Edited by capMARVELOUS
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OOC: This post is written to take the place of the latest Metronome post, which is now annulled. Since Ghidora has since been banned from BZP, that character needs to be retired, rather than just unexplainedly disappearing from the group of recruits.

 

IC (Metronome): As the cordak rocket exploded around his sand for, Metronome realised that he had made a grave mistake. The intense heat and pressure of the explosion turned a significant amount of his sand to glass or fused it to the dirt of the combat arena. With these transformations, he found himself unable to resume a humanoid form. He was trapped as a collection of scattered shards and grains, still sentient but unmoving on the arena floor.

 

IC (Mimic): To avoid a solid blow to the head, Mimic leapt high into the air, reaching an uncanny altitude for a being of his size, well above the Vortixx's head.

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IC: Zekev - [Reaver]

 

Zekev felt his weapon inexplicably nudged away for the briefest of seconds, but it didn't matter. He fell upon his foe with all his weight, shield smashing into his opponent, her knife guard giving away. He braced, and landed hard and ungracefully. Nonetheless, he counted himself lucky that he did not fall flat on his face and leave himself completely open.

 

Zekev got up and kicked the knives away, before standing beside the fallen Skakdi's head, keeping out of reach of her limbs and positioning his axe over her neck. His eyes glowed softly with built-up laser energy.

 

"I would say something witty, but I gotta admit, I'm pretty winded from the obstacle course and the fight. Concede?"

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IC: Kohu (Ghost Vs Acanon)

 

Resignation set in as I realised I had been utterly trounced, and as I tried to dea with the blood rushing to my head. Still as I looked at Acanon I noticed he was upset, probably about how easy this had been.

"Yeah ... I concede"

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

Down and unbelievably sore, but not out, Sting narrowed her eyes, then used her telekinesis to pick up one of the broken blades behind Reaver and pull it toward his leg.

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OOC: It wasn't actually a Cordak, but I don't suppose it matters too much.

 

IC: Votadox (Psyker) - Combat Arena

 

I wait. After a bit I decide to relax. Now my muscles match the situation: lacking any tension they once held. Much better. I step forwards; then I repeat the motion to form 'walking'. After some time has elapsed I've reached my opponent, or what's left of it. I wonder if it's still self-aware (if you can call what it had 'awareness'). That would actually be quite funny if it is, wouldn't it. I might feel a bit guilty or something, but I honestly can't be bothered to. Instead I wonder if there's a broom somewhere.

 

There are also two other things I wonder. One of them is whether I'll get in trouble. I feel a reasonably decent level of hope that I won't. But I wouldn't say I'm entirely non-apathetic. The second is whether I can get a new fight. That one was both unchallenging and mundane, with a side of irritating.

 

OOC: Can Votadox get reassigned (e.g. to a canon Hunter), or is it too close to the end?

Edited by Sil

.


Kathok

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IC: Zekev [Reaver]

 

Zekev noticed Sting furrowing her brow in concentration a little too late. He yelped in pain as the blade impacted his calf.

 

"Yow!" he let go of the laser blast involuntarily while still looking at Sukiru, the beams at the very least stinging am stunning her. He turned around and saw the blade lodged in his lower leg. He didn't know if it had cut into his leg or not, but there was no time to find out just yet.

 

Zekev looked back at Sukiru.

 

"Didn't want to do this..." Zekev brought the flat of his axe down on her head with all his might intending to knock her out.

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

Boy, this guy sure could talk. Sting was hoping he'd get disqualified before she'd have to put up with him on an actual mission.

 

Anyway, she wasn't just laying helpless while her diversion did its work. Moments before it struck, she was already rolling away from his shield. Her spines burned behind her for a moment, but she didn't let it stop her from sending another knife his way, this time toward his axe arm.

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IC (Huntsman): "Very well then" Acanon replied as he sheathed his blade. Concentrating, he turned Kohu over as gently as possible before setting him back down on his feet.

 

"Well fought, soldier" he commented, extending his hand to shake. "That fog was quite something. Though, if you don't mind me asking, how did you find me in it, when you shot down the scaffolding? Was the fog only in my head so everyone else could see fine, or did it cover the area but you had a way to see though it?"

 

 

IC (Mimic): Erox's sudden leap too Mimic by surprise. Even so, there wasn't much he could have done to get out of the way. The punch sent him reeling, and he landed awkwardly on top of Erox's gun.

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IC: Kohu (Ghost)

 

I considered explaining powers before the idea struck. This battle had been too short, I'd need to keep the information advantage in the future If I wanted any chance of future victories. How freely should I give out information? I could lie right now and give Acanon false ideas about my powers to make the next match easier ... no, I'd need to share the nature of my powers sooner or later. No need to be secretive with allies and especially old friends ... but then again did dark hunters even have friends? No.

I chose to answer the question in a simple manner.

"I have infra red vision"

Edited by The Invisible Noob
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IC: Erox (Specialist) - Vs Mimic

 

I extended my leg again as I fell, aiming for Mimic's head....

 

Only to realize last minute that I was way off course, and was headed for the floor instead.

 

This is gonna hurt...

 

 

Landing on my legs, I felt the jolt knock me over, and I tumbled backwards, hitting my head on the rocky floor and knocking myself out.

 

Ouch.

 

 

 

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

Boy, this guy sure could talk. Sting was hoping he'd get disqualified before she'd have to put up with him on an actual mission.

 

Anyway, she wasn't just laying helpless while her diversion did its work. Moments before it struck, she was already rolling away from his shield. Her spines burned behind her for a moment, but she didn't let it stop her from sending another knife his way, this time toward his axe arm.

IC: Zekev

 

Zekev very quickly noticed that Sting was gone from her spot. He spotted Stigng several boo away, half-up and knife in flight already.

 

The Skakdi flinched and dodged without thought, which would normally be disastrous, but the movement was enough, as he tilted his weapon so the knife bounced off the blade.

 

Alright, time to switch strategies. Zekev thought, seeing how predictable his movements were.

 

He leant back... And threw his axe. He'd done this before, and was better than most(as most did not bother with something as impractical as axe-throwing), but he wasn't hoping for a bulls eye hit. He fired off a long, aimed burst at Sting as the axe sailed through the air, before charging her, shield up.

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IC (Huntsman): "Ah, clever" Acanon commented. "That must be how you got through my mahiki as well."

 

 

IC (Mimic): Mimic got up to his knees and looked around in puzzlement. It appeared that just as Specialist had got the upper hand, he had fallen prey to a careless mistake and knocked himself out. How unfortunate.

 

Moving over to the fallen Vortixx, Mimic gently patted Erox's face to wake him up, and then offered his hand to help him up.

"Well fought, friend." he said. "I cannot claim to have beaten you here - it was fate that did that. To my mind, you have passed this test well."

 

 

IC (Nidhiki): Noting the unfortunate situation with Metronome, Nidhiki leapt down from the arena wall, landing in a whirlwind of air beside Psyker.

"Pathetic" he noted while aiming a glare of dissatisfaction at the shards of the former recruit. "We'll sweep him up and send him back to the research labs to see if they can find a use for sentient, immobile sand. In the mean time, you - " he pointed his scythe at Votadox "- still need some combat testing. Just standing there and firing a weapon does not a Dark Hunter make. So - on guard!"

 

The Toa of air jumped forward, swinging his scythe at Psyker's midsection.

 

 

IC (Screamer): Back at the arena gate, most of the new recruits had wrapped up their duels and were filtering back out of the walled enclosure. Screamer had emerged from her usual haunt in the musty storehouse, and was now patching up those who had been injured, all while muttering complaints about carelessness in her hissing, clicking voice.

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

While Reaver prepared his potentially crippling triple assault, Sting used the opportunity to push back farther into the arena ruins. Out in the open and in close quarters, he had the clear advantage, but here there was cover and obstacles to keep him on his guard.

 

The large and heavy axe hurtling through the air didn't take much effort to avoid, but the laser beams caught her spines as she ducked behind a column to await him.

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IC (Mimic): "You fell awkwardly and blacked out there for a second, so technically no, you did not win. You probably should have, though, were it not for this ill luck. I was in a very vulnerable position, and would have conceded if you had landed well."

 

Mimic helped the Vortixx to his feet and then started walking back towards the gate. "You may wish to have Screamer take a look at your head, just in case there are any lasting effects of your fall."

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IC: Kohu (Ghost)

 

"Yes, your illusion masked your shape, but did nothing to change your body heat, a Matoran with the temperature of a titan tends to stick out"

Forget the secrecy, he'd figure out the nature of my powers soon enough. Besides was I really going to act distrustful towards my one major ally amongst the dark hunters?. Maybe I was getting too cynical already, but thought about our battle I knew I had noticed some form of upset from Acanon. I had to ask about it.

"So is there something you want to get off your chest?"

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IC: Nilauhk

Nilauhk stepped backwards(to the side, from his perspective), Commander's fist narrowly glancing off her visor.
She noted how he hadn't moved to get her blade away from his leg and, angling it to reaffirm it was blade first, sharply brought it backwards, aiming to slice at the back of that same knee.

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IC (Huntsman): "One thing from the fight I still don't understand: when did you lose your weapon? Once I caught up to you, you didn't have anything to defend yourself with but those crossbow bolts, but I can't think of anything I might have done to make you lose your knives. Or is it still knives that you carry?"

 

Acanon remembered the pair of knives Kohu used to carry back in the days of the League. Even then, he had been more of a ranged fighter, but the eager young warrior had taken great pride in sharpening and oiling up his blades every night in his tent. It probably wasn't strictly necessary, but Acanon still fondly remembered the display of enthusiasm.

 

OOC: I'm making up another character's backstory here, so please tell me if you'd rather Acanon remember something different. Kohu is your character, after all.

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IC: Erox (Specialist) - Getting up

 

"I'm...fine." I said, shaking my head a little.

 

Sitting down, I found myself thinking about the past again, the ever present ache where my legs used to be giving me more images.

 

It had seemed that my Shark friend had finished her fight. I considered talking to her again but decided against it, since we were most likely moving on shortly.

 

I picked up my gun and put it over my shoulder again, standing up.

 

 

 

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IC: Nilauhk

Melee combat had its advantages. For one, you could hit them as hard as your arm would allow, and dependent on how strong you were and how well you executed the attack, that could be devastating at times. For another, there are multiple approaches. Well, ranged combat does too, but not as many. Unfortunately, it had its disadvantages too. One was that it was easier said than done to take cover in the middle of a melee fight. Running and hiding doesn't count.

 

Another was that one needed to account for every ultimatum, every outcome of every maneuver. And while Commander's move had gone through Nilauhk's head, it had not been one she had managed to account for in time.
So, while she did manage to move to evade, the weapon crashed into her body armour, sending the Ga-Matoran tumbling backwards. Being shunted back wasn't a foreign experience to her, however, and she rolled instead of landing in a heap, sliding back onto her feet as she slowed. Raising her polearm, she kept the blade's tip trained on her opponent.

After a pause, she promptly resumed her slow strafe.

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

While Reaver prepared his potentially crippling triple assault, Sting used the opportunity to push back farther into the arena ruins. Out in the open and in close quarters, he had the clear advantage, but here there was cover and obstacles to keep him on his guard.

 

The large and heavy axe hurtling through the air didn't take much effort to avoid, but the laser beams caught her spines as she ducked behind a column to await him.

 

 

IC: Zekev - [Reaver]

 

Taken cover... Must be careful.

 

Zekev crouched as he ran to pick up his axe, laser vision activated again. He kept his gaze trained on the column. Either it would cut in half and fall on the other Skakdi, or she would be too concerned taking cover from the beams to throw knives from her vantage point.

 

He scooped up his weapon and jogged forward at a brisk pace, keeping the lasers trained on the column.

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OOC: Dont write other players backstories ghost. Especially without contacting them first.

 

IC:Kohu (Ghost)

 

I looked in confusion at Acannon, why was he asking about knives? I'd used a shortsword when I had signed up in Carapar's army before moving to specialise in infiltration missions using minimal equipment. I had experimented with bringing a dagger on a few missions but it always seemed like a waste of space in my rucksack. So why was Acannon talking about me using knives, as in plural? ...

 

The silence between us was broken up by Screamer's sudden arrival. As the medical Dark hunter treated my lacerations I could only come to one conclusion. I would have to approach this carefully.

 

"Well knives seem pointless against the ranged abilities people have, you yourself provided a good example of that. I'm surprised you didn't remember that I gave up on them though, you were with me with on that poisoned village raid when I gave up on them"

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

While Reaver prepared his potentially crippling triple assault, Sting used the opportunity to push back farther into the arena ruins. Out in the open and in close quarters, he had the clear advantage, but here there was cover and obstacles to keep him on his guard.

 

The large and heavy axe hurtling through the air didn't take much effort to avoid, but the laser beams caught her spines as she ducked behind a column to await him.

 

 

IC: Zekev - [Reaver]

 

Taken cover... Must be careful.

 

Zekev crouched as he ran to pick up his axe, laser vision activated again. He kept his gaze trained on the column. Either it would cut in half and fall on the other Skakdi, or she would be too concerned taking cover from the beams to throw knives from her vantage point.

 

He scooped up his weapon and jogged forward at a brisk pace, keeping the lasers trained on the column.

 

 

IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

Once behind cover, Sting lay back against the column, weakly gasping for breath. Who was she kidding; he had won already. But she couldn't let him win that easily...

 

Warmth was washing over the column behind her. More laser vision. Mata Nui, how she hated laser vision. No skill involved; just point and shoot, and there was only so much your foe could do.

 

However, laser vision had one very important flaw: it weakened the user's eyes while in use, especially after he had been using it for this long. Odds were he was just staring at the column half-blind. A perfect time to make her move.

 

First, find cover. Keeping the column between her and Reaver, she limped back toward another.

 

Second, the column. With his deadly glare turning the stone to slag on his end, it wouldn't take much to tilt it in his direction. As she moved, Sting sent a burst of telekinesis into the upper portion. Perhaps it was too short to actually land on him, but at least it would serve as a decent distraction for

 

Third, the knives. Pulling out a small handful of four, one tucked between each finger, Sting whirled her arm around toward him, sending them in an arc in his general direction. Two cut around the left side of the falling column, and two to the right. Her pitiful accuracy in exchange for quantity was quickly rectified by a nudge to each with her mind, turning them in a collision course with various areas of his torso.

 

Fourth, congratulation. Some say not to count your Infernikava before they hatch, but between the blindness and the plethora of attacks, Sting felt pretty good about this one. Or maybe that was just Gus pumping her with bloodlust, eager to see his flattened or skewered remains.

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IC (Votadox and Nidhiki):

 

A lie here and there can make the world a better place. But the lie that I was surprised by Nidhiki’s attack would benefit nobody. Therefore I won’t voice it. There are other things I won’t do, too. I won’t tell you about my tactical thoughts: I didn’t have time to think them. I won’t describe my cutting comeback: I didn’t have the incentive to make one. On the absolute contrary, I was very motivated to do one thing in particular: get out of the way.

 

Trying to look nonchalant while launching backwards at top speed isn’t an easy feat. But what would be the point if it was? With this in mind, I leap away from Nidhiki as his weapon arcs towards me; at the same time, I use my Crast. He’s flung backwards, and so am I. We land apart, and my heart’s admittedly racing. I can see this opponent won’t be turning into sand - or any other cop-out move like that - any time soon. I stand lightly on my feet. He matches me. I glance at him before the game’s next move...I can see him glinting with sharp intellect...certainly a more worthy opponent.

 

I don’t have time to think much more than that, due in large part to Nidhiki vaulting forwards with the speed of a storm. His weapon’s drawn - its edge as subtle and gleaming as his angular eyes. With a swift movement I draw my own weapon and shoot, the blast rupturing forwards towards the instructor. There’s a blur, and it swings past him. Karz. A moment later, he’s upon me. The whistling scythe is swinging again, and I duck with a sharp hasty movement.

 

But I know how to do this, I’m sure. I know how to turn an attack against an enemy - how to let a weapon hurt its bearer. So in a split second I’m behind Nidhiki, spinning, and smashing him in the back with the gun’s barrel. One crunch later, and he’s facing me again. He whisks the scythe sideways. But I’m too fast, I dart around him. I’m behind him again, lobbing a makeshift club at him. But he’s too fast too. He’s also turned, my weapon zinging off his blade in high-pitched voice. Doesn’t matter, I’m soon telling myself. Movement is the key. I’m soon sliding under him, this time shooting him in the back as his weapon over-balances. But he’s half-turned; the blast misses, snatched at by the air.

 

We circle each other. But I’m confident, sorry to say. I know how to do this. I’ll wait for his move, then turn it against him. I might even throw in a ‘Stop hitting yourself’. I smile intolerably.

 

Seconds pass, and I’m starting to get bored. He’s keeping his distance. His mundane feet are brushing the mundane ground. I’m disappointed. I had such high hopes for this fight. I dreamt of enticing action and brilliant acrobatic displays. I anticipated daring duels, interspersed with unrealistically witty banter. I wanted a fight to live for, a fight to die for, every second more thrilling than the last--

 

This is when the air blast arrives: poetic, really. I’m hurled backwards. I skid into the sandy ground, stumbling to my feet an instant later. The attack’s successor arrives shortly thereafter. I dodge, leaping to the side. Nidhiki’s further away by now. Come closer, come closer! I hiss inside my head. (Saying it out loud would doubtless waste resources). A third whirlwind completes the hat-trick. I evade again.

 

Then more and more come. And more, and more. I leap and whirl, and throw in the occasional dodge and dive. Not to mention the ducks and swerves. OK, OK: I’m being flippant, but this is getting serious. He’s moved even further away. I can’t fire at him from this range: he’ll just dissipate the blast. He needs to come to me.

 

By this stage a very mild form of worry is setting in. That in itself worries me. I’ve been battered by a few of the assaults, and the rest have worn me out. From my vantage point atop a wall, I take a potshot at him with an attempt at apathy. Meanwhile I squint, my voice ringing with a goading “Oh. Alright. Bye bye, then.”. I don’t get a reply, and my poor baby blast is ruthlessly shredded by the sky. I grimace.

 

My grimace is soon wiped from my face. Likewise, I’m wiped from the wall. The primary cause is a hurricane the tears me out of place and flings me down. I’m thrown around and, let me tell you, considerably bruised. When I get my bearings back, Nidhiki is gone. I stare around wild eyed. I’m in the middle of an arena, surrounded by blocks and aesthetically displeasing pieces of wall: he could be anywhere. My launcher is ready. I scan the shadows. I search the wind for his whereabouts. I see a movement out of the corner of my eye and spin. My gun is levelled in an instant, but nothing’s there. Why isn’t he just fighting me, face to face? I’m getting a--

 

I’m kicked to the ground by a jarring force. I scramble back to my feet. There's no-one there. Another blast from my right punches me in the chest. I’m flung sideways. I shoot off in its general direction. I can feel fear. But that’s fine, I know it’s there, I know how to use it--

 

A hand grabs my neck, slamming me to the ground. I leap to my feet - he must be in range! - but he’s gone again. I shouldn’t have bothered standing, really. Because as soon as I do, I’m smashed against a wall. I shake with intensity as I try to get myself free, but the air is rushing in my face, plastering me to the stone, rattling and slamming me again and again and again. But for a moment I see a shadow in front of me; its semi-tangible. I reach for it. Then I’m pulled to the side, face colliding with the dirt. I taste blood and grit. But now I’m angry.

 

I’ve met ####s like him before. Always hiding. Always running. I feel my cuts and bruises, and my heart pounds to see them returned. The last time I felt like this ended with someone in quite a few different pieces. And that someone wasn’t me.

 

The wind whips me. I can’t carry on like this. I’ll just be worn down. I need a change of plan. I need to take the fight to him, I resolve.

 

I catch sight the shadow again, further away still. I jog towards the movement, weapon raised. I skid round a corner. A space, hidden between two close walls. And he’s there.

 

I’m flung back, but I’m already shooting. I land on my feet, stumbling, regaining my balance, rushing at him. He’s cornered. Another blast, but I pirouette to the side. He glances upwards, ready to dart away. A shot from my Bludgeon sends rubble down. He nimbly avoids it, but is hurled backwards by my Crast. I try not to get excited, but I am. I’m driving him back. Another mask-blast slides him further down the corridor. And another. And another. I need to press my advantage. I sprint forwards, gun and mask pummeling him into submission. I’m leading the fight now. I feel uncharacteristically triumphant. But that may be due to the lack of triumphs in my life.

 

Now I’m close enough to shoot point blank then batter him with the barrel. I elect to do so. An upper-cut, a left hook, and other moves too unruly to be named. I don’t duck or slide or weave: that would be wasteful when I can hammer and punch and smash.

 

I was reactive before; but now I’m truly active.

 

He looks uncertainly dizzy. But he has enough tact to rip my gun from my hands with his element, tossing it away. Karz! But I can’t falter. I’ve simply got to keep attacking. One pause and the tides will turn. Both of us are fatigued, I think. But we’re tearing at each other. Smashing and striking with faster and faster, harder and harder blows. I slam against him with my mask power.

 

I can’t stop, can’t falter. We’re both whirlwinds of frenzied energy. In this unpoetic and dark corner, all I can see is him in front of me. All I can do is attack. My mask is my second choice, but there’s not much choice left. I use it. He counters. I return an attack.

 

My mask is hooked off my face and flung away. But I can’t give up. I whip out my knives, my last resort. Slashing, stabbing. Scythe blade rushing past in waves, just dodging. Shadows flickering in the rushed, frantic, claustrophobic space. Sounds of clattering metal, sliding metal, crumpling metal.

 

Fevered movement in a fevered moment. Manic movement. Knives pulled away, so now I’m tearing into him with my bare fists. Caught on the shoulder by the scythe. Can’t give up. Got to press my advantage. Got to lead the fight. Desperate punching. Furious, wild speed.

 

I’m battered to my knees, knuckles bloodied, energy expended. He raises a weapon, ready to end it. I...fear...I killed the other one...he won’t hesitate to kill me.

 

I stare him in the eyes, my own eyes wide, mouth agape, body trembling with the effort of sluggish movement and with pain and fatigue. I tried everything. I changed my tactics. I changed my whole...system. I pressed my advantage. I moved to him. Now I’ll probably die for that. How annoyingly...cliche.

 

He swings the weapon at me. He puts his whole weight into it. I raise my arms, push myself away. And I can’t help myself, I shout:

 

“Stop!Stop! Stop!

 

And for a tiny moment he does. He looks unable to do anything, unable to even breath. He looks like he’s wondering what he’s doing. Of course. I hardly realised I was doing it.

 

I almost forget to attack. But then I do. I push upwards. Onto my feet. Arm outstretched. Arcing towards his head. Fist in a neat, sharp shape.

 

It’s about to land when he snaps out of it. His arm shoots outwards, grabbing my wrist. Then, in one pragmatic movement, he smashes me in the head.

 

I fall back to the grimy ground. What little light there is fades.

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IC: Nilauhk - Combat Arena

Normally, her instincts and largely self-taught combat skills would tell her to back away, out of reach of Commander's swing. And they were. But her observational skills had given her another idea, based off her awareness of her own equipment and that he was swinging for her legs.

 

Turning as she did so, Nilauhk leapt over the staff, the panels normally serving to slow a descent opening to extent airtime, using her rotational momentum to bring her own polearm's blade hard towards the side of his neck.

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IC: Waveahk "Commander" (Odina, Project Protodermis Compound, Practice Arena)

 

The glaive connected into his neck, but at least the Matoran was within punching distance now. His right hand still holding the staff, his left hand let go and curled into a fist, heading towards Nilauhk's mask.

Edited by Toru Nui
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IC (Nidhiki): Having finished his fight, Nidhiki took a moment to regain his breath. He had to admit to himself that he had enjoyed that fight, and matching his skills and intensity against another. He had been intending to remain aloof from the recruits, projecting an image of being unreachably above their level, and so more secure in his authority, but now, having stepped down to fight one of them, and having been hit in the process, he wasn't so sure. , Sure, these recruits were the washed up scum of the Matoran Universe, but perhaps he could afford to stoop to their level, every now and then, just to get himself some excitement and prevent himself from becoming a Toa of boredom.

 

He nudged Psyker with his armoured boot, poking him insistently until the recruit woke up. "Get up" he ordered, "And back out to the arena gate. You'll have time to rest soon, but not here, not now." He started to walk away, but then paused for a moment and turned back. "And also... well done, recruit. You have some skill."

 

Having said so, Nidhiki jumped up and out of the ruins, a strong breeze carrying him back to the edge of the arena, where most of the recruits were gathering, having finished their own fights. Screamer was there too, tending to the injured - good. The insectoid was reliable and quick to go about her work, even if she lacked many other pleasant traits.

 

The last few pairs dribbled in, and Nidhiki stood to address the group. "Well done, recruits. That was most informative. For the next two hours, your time will be your own. Take this chance to rest, I daresay most of you have earned it. The barracks will be open, and Screamer will be able to see to any injuries or requests from the storehouse. Meanwhile, the other trainers and I will discuss your performances so far this morning, and decide how best to continue your training from here."

 

 

IC (Shadowboxer): Krahua woke up, and immediately flinched at the sight of Skondh looming over him, then again at the other ...thing. He wished he hadn't, as the sudden movement only highlighted the odd sensation blooming outwards from his chest. It felt as though two of his ribs had been replaced with ice, and a dozen beetles were crawling just beneath the surface of his chest. He blinked and shook his head to distract himself, but they were more than fading dreams. Still, as he sat up and examined his body, he did not seem to be otherwise hurt. Weird.

 

Nidhiki's voice boomed out across the dusty grounds, announcing that he wouldn't be required to do anything more, for the moment. Lying back down and staring up at the desert sky as Screamer scuttled away, Krahua was immensely grateful for that. He would have some time to recover from that and work out what in Karzhani had happened to him.

 

 

OOC: I know not everyone has completely finished their fights yet, but this will allow those who have to move on after a long time of waiting. Mirror v Hijack will conclude occur on in a flashback so that both characters can participate in current events, and the other two matches are welcome to adopt this solution or find their own if they wish.

Edited by The Lorax

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IC: Corrivalis (Whisper) - Still Hurting. 

 

"Ow," still rubbing her head, Corri forced herself to her feet and started heading for the arena exit, "If anyone needs me, I'll be having a lie down in the barracks." She mumbled, to no one in particular. 

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--IC: Idgaddiy and Skondh--

Skondh felt movement from within his arms.  "Shadowboxer" appeared to be recovering.  "oH HeY, You'Re aLL RiGHT NoW," he said, setting the Matoran down.  "THeRe You Go."

Turning to his boss, he asked, "HeY iDGaDDiY, CaN We Go GeT THoSe STeaKS NoW?"

"Sure," Idgaddiy replied.  "Let's go."

The pair approached Nidhiki, who had begun to talk to some other trainers.  Idgaddiy asked, "Pardon me, Your Honor, but my friend and I would like to know where we can get breakfast.  Our morning exercises have left us famished."

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IC: Konu-To

 

Konu-To rested peacefully in a nest made of the blankets it had found in the room that the escorts had shown It to. "Barracks" It believed they had said. As it meditated, it pondered the offer it had been given by this "Shadowed One": a home here on Odina, in exchange for Konu-To's—no, Abominable's loyalty. It had so quickly accepted.

But was that decision a wise one? It did not know. It only hoped that "Odina" would really be its home, and that it could leave all those accursed Skakdi and Matoran that had tormented for years behind it. The thought of them made The Rahi growl unconsciously as anger filled its being. All those years, being starved and beaten and battered with rocks and stones. In an attempt to steady itself, it thought of the retribution it had wrought upon its tormentors, the screams of the soon-to-be-dead as it ripped the armor from flesh. It calmed it, for a time. 

 

...

 

It was only snapped out of its thoughts be the sound of the door opening. Creeeeea-k.

Edited by Drakua Toa of Rahi

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

 

 

Once behind cover, Sting lay back against the column, weakly gasping for breath. Who was she kidding; he had won already. But she couldn't let him win that easily...

 

Warmth was washing over the column behind her. More laser vision. Mata Nui, how she hated laser vision. No skill involved; just point and shoot, and there was only so much your foe could do.

 

However, laser vision had one very important flaw: it weakened the user's eyes while in use, especially after he had been using it for this long. Odds were he was just staring at the column half-blind. A perfect time to make her move.

 

First, find cover. Keeping the column between her and Reaver, she limped back toward another.

 

Second, the column. With his deadly glare turning the stone to slag on his end, it wouldn't take much to tilt it in his direction. As she moved, Sting sent a burst of telekinesis into the upper portion. Perhaps it was too short to actually land on him, but at least it would serve as a decent distraction for

 

Third, the knives. Pulling out a small handful of four, one tucked between each finger, Sting whirled her arm around toward him, sending them in an arc in his general direction. Two cut around the left side of the falling column, and two to the right. Her pitiful accuracy in exchange for quantity was quickly rectified by a nudge to each with her mind, turning them in a collision course with various areas of his torso.

 

Fourth, congratulation. Some say not to count your Infernikava before they hatch, but between the blindness and the plethora of attacks, Sting felt pretty good about this one. Or maybe that was just Gus pumping her with bloodlust, eager to see his flattened or skewered remains.

 

 

IC: Zekev - [Reaver]

 

Zekev heard the column collapsing, and shut his laser vision, a little too late, the column already toppling towards him.

 

Karz! Zekev dived to the side, but the collapsing column fell on him, a portion of it trapping the Skakdi. Vision still swimming, he barely made out the knives flying toward him, burying themselves into the column.

 

How convenient. Zekev struggled to drag himself out, but it was too heavy. There was no doubt that his opponent had him at a severe disadvantage, and even if he freed himself, there was no way he could do it in time before she came up to him.

 

"Alright, alright, you win," Zekev grumbled, shifting his body density to painstakingly ease his way out of the rubble.

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IC: Sukiru (Sting) - Arena

 

"What?" Sting peeked out from behind the column to see her plan had actually worked. She honestly didn't expect it to.

 

But she quickly grasped the situation and sauntered over as gracefully as her aching body could allow. She kneeled next to him with a pained wince she turned into a victorious grin. "Maybe you should watch where you're going next time," she sneered. One hand gathered up the hilts of her daggers and neatly tore them from the column before she standing to walk away, stepping over him and the column.

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IC (Nidhiki): Nidhiki raised an eyebrow at Idgaddiy's unusually formal terms of address. It did show respect though, which he liked. 'Your honour'? He could get used to that.

 

"A supply of bread and diakapi eggs is maintained in the barracks. For any more specific nutritional needs of your species, you will have to visit the storehouse and arrange something with Screamer."

 

So saying, Nidhiki set off towards the central tower with the other Dark Hunters.

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--IC: Idgaddiy and Skondh--

Idgaddiy frowned.  He had hoped that there might be a mess hall of sorts somewhere around here.  Oh well.

"Come on, Skondh," he said.  "You heard him; your steaks are at the storehouse."

"iSN'T THaT THe PLaCe THaT HaS THe SCaRY MaNTiS LaDY iN iT?" Skondh asked.  "i DoN'T WaNT To Go BaCK THeRe."

"Don't worry, you coward, I'll hold your hand."

The Vemosai's big fist completely enclosed the Cunal's.  "OK," he said.

The pair made their way back to the storehouse.  It was still as musty-smelling as the last time they had been there.

"Hello?  Screamer?" Idgaddiy called.  "My friend and I require special breakfast accommodations."

Edited by capMARVELOUS
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IC (Huntsman): Now it was Acanon's turn to look confused. "You mean the siege of Ngaio? I could have sworn I sent you back to Skeres with the news that Carapar had been delayed, and to encourage the garrison there with word of the coming reinforcements."


 


Despite his outward assurances, the question worries Acanon. He had mentally relived the early years of Carapar's conquest so many times, dwelling on the glory and struggle of those campaigns in the years since when times were hard and hope seemed thin. Could it be possible that some, or even much, of that was built on fantasy and misrememberings?


 


 


IC (Storehouse): Idgaddiy's call went unanswered. In fact, the door to the storehouse was locked and barred. Screamer was still back at the arena gate, patching up those recruits whose spars had left them worse for wear.

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--IC: Idgaddiy and Skondh--

Skondh tried banging on the door.  "HeLLo?  SCaRY MaNTiS LaDY?  You HoMe?"

"Stop it, Skondh.  Can't you see that she's obviously not home?" Idgaddiy reprimanded.

If Vemosai could look embarrassed, Skondh certainly would.

In a softer tone, Idgaddiy said, "It's OK.  She'll have to come back sooner or later, and when she does, we'll be waiting for her."  He sat down near the door of the storehouse and gestured for Skondh to join him, which he did.

Now all they had to do... was wait.

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