Colosseum - Round 1, Group B - Gamzee Makara vs Strazio

[Storyteller]

Gamzee Makara took a moment to look at the large flag that designated the role he was playing in this fight. The Kingdom? He wasn't so sharp on his history, so he didn't know if that made him the hero or the villain.

Strazio Rockwell smirked at the Deserters flag behind him. He was one hundred percent okay with being the metaphorical underdog. A few months ago, he had ended several people who thought he was an underdog, and this competition would be no different. He was sure of it.

Up above them, a packed crowd cheered, waiting for the signal that would commence the 'festivities.' Although Strazio hadn't noticed, a large, bronzed mountain of muscles stood in a stone seat a few rows up. The Rock, clad in his wrestling gear and a pair of sunglasses, sipped from a coconut with a tiny umbrella in it as he adjusted the gold-plated championship draped over his shoulder. The words 'Rock n' Rock Connection' were etched into the nameplate, and the entire thing glistened in the afternoon sun.

Someone gestured for silence, and just like that, there wasn't a sound in the building as Victor von Magnus walked onto the small platform near the center of the massive structure. With a smile, he picked up the padded hammer and smashed it into the gong, signalling the fights to commence.

Judge – Gildarts/Caira

Gamzee posts first, and he may do so anytime after 6 pm CDT/7 PM EDT.

Description of fight area and other information can be found here - <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=28&p=44961#p44950">viewtopic.php?f=28&p=44961#p44950</a><!-- l -->

Please refer any questions to that thread.

Word Limit: 750
Posts: 3
Time Limit: 48 hours
SP use is enabled. SP does not regenerate between rounds. Injuries may occur. Neither injuries nor SP use are factored into judgment, only the quality of writing.

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee was simply astounded by the intricacies of this Coliseum. Miracles were all over the motherfucking place. To be completely honest, the Troll was hella confused. He was enjoying the carnival one moment and the next he was being ushered through a dark tunnel into this arena lookin’ place.

He didn’t even get to finish his Faygo.

As such, he was calmly sipping on this wicked elixir whilst taking in the overwhelming view of adoring fans from above. Likewise, they were all up and taking in the underwhelming view of his clownish ass below. It’s a pretty weird thing to realize.

Miraculous, one could say.

Gamzee glanced at the flag behind him. S’kinda fitting that a High-Blood is on the Kingdom side, even though the subjugglator had never been one to claim his heritage.

With a dull glaze over his eyes, the bard raises a hand up to shade his vision from the harsh sun. He lazily tries to get a good look at the dude at the other end of the arena, not really paying much attention to all the obstacles and trenches and boring junk.

Maaan he knew what he was getting into when he signed up for this shindig, but he didn’t really want to kill anyone. Hell, he certainly didn’t wanna end up dead. That’d be something to explain to Mistress Guu. Let’s just start this fight off chill with a gesture of goodwill. The troll cups his hands around his mouth...

Gamzee has no idea what the hell this guy’s name is.

“Hey er, bro, you wanna kick back a Wicked Elixir real quick?”

The fool screws the cap on his bottle of Faygo before tossing it as hard as he can at his opponent.

Then, he proceeds to watch in horror as the cap comes undone, spewing shaken up fruity miracles all over the opposing fighter’s clothes. The bottle bounces harmlessly off of the fighter’s head.

“Oh! Oh shit motherfucker, I’m so hella motherfucking sorry! I did not mean to do that at all! Like, I mean, is there some of that good stuff still in the bottle? Cuz like, if you don’t want it, just like toss that motherfucking good shit back over. We can still be chill right? Sip on some cold ones together?”

Things did not go exactly as planned. By the look on his foe’s face, Gamzee could tell this fight was not starting off chill.

“Uh…”

Before much else can transpire, the clown miracalizes his Deuce Clubs into existence again from wherever the motherfuck they come from, and proceeds to sprint for the nearest piece of cover-

before tripping and falling into a jagged crack in the Earth.

With a slew of swears, Gamzee tumbles into the trench, dirt cascading down with him. He lays flat on the ground for a moment before pushing himself up with a pathetic groan. Juggling pins in hand, the troll looks up at the sky and-

Its finite, this feeling.

It is necessary, this fight. It’s just a necessary thing, like you know? And the end of it right? Whether Gamzee lives or dies or loses or wins or whatever, man it’ll be a miracle and that’s all that matters. Let’s go whoop this dude’s ass real quick.

The Clown uses the trenches to get around the battlefield. Eventually, after carefully avoiding sight, he scrambles up the side of the earth before poking his head up to gain his bearings.

Aha! There’s the motherfucker. With his dumb back turned too, just chillin’. Maaan this ain’t no joke. This entire time, Gamzee could hear most of the crowd cheering this guy’s name - Strawso or some such bullshittery. The High-Blood had a few fans but he was the clear underdog.

S’aight. After all, dogs have a tendency to motherfuckin’ bite.

Gamzee crawls out of the hole as stealthily and quietly as possible, which turns out isn’t that quiet at all. Strawso turns around at this sudden racket. The horned fighter is on his knees when they make eye contact.

They just kinda stare at each other for a moment.

“Sup.”

Without another word or sound, the Bard of Rage bolts up and at ‘em. When the boy is within reach, Gamzee jumps up and turns a flip in mid-air, landing in a splits position. From this lowered vantage point, the clown shouts in excitement before lashing out, each club aimed at a kneecap in a horizontal strike.

[Strazio Rockwell]

　　Irritated

　　　Yes, irritated was a good word to describe the feeling of getting drenched in a foreign fruit-based liquid. Perturbed was the word to describe the feeling of your favorite starch white coat getting stained by a heady purple syrup. Slowly and with great ire Strazio took a deep breath and unclasped his cloak, letting the white garment fall harmlessly to the ground. Gamzee’s words were nothing but static to the livid mage, bright white sparks of rage jumped across Strazio’s scarred body.

　　The troll darted into the jagged trench that split the battlefield in twain. The Defender of Darkshire was ready to strike the moment Gamzee moved close. But somehow - perhaps through a miracle - the troll had managed to get behind Strazio. The two froze face-to-face as Strazio turned around. The troll offered a sheepish grin before breaking into a mid-air pirouette. The acrobatic maneuver surprised Strazio and all he could do was watch as the troll swung for his kneecaps.
　　
　　*CRACK*
　　
　　Gamzee's heavy clubs connected with Strazio's left knee. He yelped in pain as the leg was sweeped from under him with the force of the vicious blow. It wasn't broken, at least not completely, but the throbbing pain certainly felt like Gamzee had shattered the poor bone. He stumbled to the side, trying to keep his weight on his uninjured leg. The troll knew when to press an advantage and bumrushed the hobbled mage.
　　
　　“Motherfucker!” Strazio yelled.
　　
　　The pounding pain in Strazio's kneecap only served to galvanize his fury. This horn-headed bastard was going to be driven into the dirt if Strazio had anything to say about it. Gamzee's assault hoped to end the fight quickly and he wasted no time charging Strazio. The Defender of Darkshire smirked as he watched the troll rush him. Sparks crawled across Strazio's body greedily devouring his flesh, turning him into nothing more than a million electrically charged fireflies. The charged particles danced in the air before meeting Gamzee's rush head-on. A shower of sparks washed over Gamzee, the charged particles bit greedily into his flesh like a thousand red-hot pinpricks. The troll swung wildly, trying to bat away the sparks but his club found no solid impact.

　　The sparks rushed past the singed troll and coalesced together to form a pissed-off mage. Strazio broke into a sprint towards the nearest wall. All manner of medieval weaponry lined the wall and although the mage had limited weapon experience he knew he needed a shield against the crippling blows of his opponent. Gamzee was in hot pursiut, he performed amazing feats of parkour to vault over walls and other obstacles. Whereas Strazio's injured knee slowed him down considerably, every step was agony and although he was no stranger to pain it still hampered his movement.
　　
　　“Come on bro, stop running” Gamzee shouted.
　　
　　“Fuck off!” Strazio shouted back.
　　
　　The wall was close, only a few more strides and Strazio would have his hands on a nice big shiny shield. Unfortunately fate was never kind to the poor man, his injured leg found a rut in the dirt and the pain mixed with the uneven ground forced him to topple. He twisted his body and landed hard on his side. Without skipping a beat the troll flipped into the air and rocketed down towards Strazio. His two clubs aim to pulverize their target. The clubs connected with dirt, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air. At the last moment Strazio managed to roll to the side and dodge the lethal blow. One solid hit was all Gamzee needed to end his opponent, one good swing would put Strazio out of commission. Acting quickly Strazio chomped into the meat between his thumb and pointer finger on his right hand. A copper taste preceded the cascade of blood from the wound. Gamzee slowed his pace, slightly confused by Strazio's self-cannibalism.
　　
　“Uh, you okay there bro?” Gamzee asked the seemingly deranged man.
　　
　　Strazio growled and flicked his bleeding hand at the troll, spattering him with drops of bright red blood.
　　
　“Yo, what the motherfu-”
　　
　　The troll didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before the droplets of blood sparked white hot and erupted. The crowd exploded into cheers as the two were swallowed by the blast. Following the pyrotechnics a cloud of dust and dirt consumed the two, stinging their eyes and choking their lungs.

[Gamzee Makara]

Then, praise the Mirthful Messiahs, a miracle happens.

The injured magician folds up at the knee like a lawn chair, hitting the dirt with a not-so-smooth landing. Gamzee hoots in excitement, aiming to finish this battle in one fell swoop and-

Ah shit! No dice. The clubs smack into the dirt with a resounding “Fuck you!" to the subjugglator’s pride. The High-Blood looks up from his failed end-it-all attack with a sigh.

Wh…

What is this motherfucker doing?

*plip plop plap*

Ew! Did that crazy ass magic usin’ motherfucker just fling blood at-

*KA-FWOOOSH*

Motherfuck it burns!

The Violet-Blooded Troll wants to shout out in pretty obvious agony, but finds that this smokesplosion has taken away his right to breathe and see freely. It was weird, like, he could feel the force of the explosion, and it could feel him feeling it, but he didn’t go anywhere. Gamzee just withstood the pain, not really being propelled upward or outward or anywhereward. It was a miracle.

A really shitty, really agonizing one.

The clown however, did feel compelled to go downward. The alien teenager falls prey to gravity, sinking to his knees before finally collapsing onto the dry earth. At least the air was clean down there. The normally nonchalant, laid-back fighter is aching and gasping for air. It looked like someone had thrown a clownfish into the arena to die. Slowly, as the debris lifts up from the ground, the choking jester begins to gulp down clean air. His breathing becomes normal again, chest rising and falling much slower.

Strazio Rockwell smirks from a standing position, arms crossed confidently. He was used to the burn, to the singeing sparks. The dust was annoying but honestly, as long as he held his breath and moved away from the huge ass dust cloud, he should be okay. With a few quick steps away from the carnage, he can see clearly again. It would seem that the clown has fallen! How sad.

Strutting over to the prone Makara, the Blood-Mage wears a smile. Pretty easy win. Maybe he should kick him around a little, make the insufferable fool pay for ruining a perfectly good cloak. The boy nudges the face-painted fighter onto his back with a foot. Look at this clown.

Welp.

Strawso raises a palm outward, aimed down at his opponent’s annoying face. Sparks begin to fly, amassing at the center of the mage’s palm. He guesses that this entire charade of a battle was pretty pointle-

“Honk.”

Honk?

The tragic, ‘fallen’ clown laughs hysterically, opening his violent violet eyes and smiling a vicious smile, knife-like predatory teeth easily visible. Both of his hands latch onto the scarred boy’s ankles with an iron grip, his claws digging into the already marred flesh. In a whirlwind of motion, Gamzee uses Strazio as an anchor while swinging his legs up and around in a breakdance fashion.

Trapped.

The Capricorn’s long legs loop around the volatile kid’s neck like a polka-dotted noose, squeezing tightly and constricting his flow of air. Without warning, the batshit-crazy clown uses all this momentum to commence an acrobatic fucking pirouette with his legs still tangled around the poor guy’s throat. In the blink of an eye, the high-blood has flipped up and over, leg-suplexing Strawso’s magic-using ass into the ground. The mage's back crashes into the dry, cracked earth with a satisfying smack. The berserker troll now sits atop his aggressor with a devilish grin, pinning the magician’s arms into the ground with his knees.

So motherfucking trapped.

The crowd has frenzied, a maddening roar crescendoing at how the tables have turned in an instant.

“So, motherfucker. Here we are.”

"Fuck you, you second-rate street performer."

Ouch.

"Low blow, brother. Might have to pay you back for that."

Fist after fist flies into the mage-boy’s face. Fist after fast also flies into the dirt beside his face because the insane High-Blood is too busy laughing to care about where his punches end up. The ground tends to hurt his hands a lot more than the face. Another punch connects; a deluge of blood erupts from the kid’s nose, showering the both of them in crimson splotches.

Gamzee almost felt bad.

Almost.

Grabbing the feisty little fuck by his shirt collar, the Troll rears back before headbutting the shit out of this scrub, right between the eyes.

And motherfuck did it hurt the stupid ass juggalo just as much as it hurt his target. Yep. Definitely could have been done better.

[Strazio Rockwell]

A veritable storm of strikes crashed into Strazio's face like so many numbing thunderbolts. His nose spewed a deluge of blood and his mouth tasted like a pool of copper. Thoughts and plans were battered away as fast as they came from Gamzee's whirlwind of punches. The withering series of strikes left Strazio's mind in a state of stupor. Finally the troll relented, finishing his wicked assault with a devastating headbutt. For the first moment in what seemed like years Strazio could focus on escaping. Energy charged through his veins and saturated his muscles.

“Get off me!”

For an ephemeral moment Strazio had the strength of a bear. The troll pushed against the super-charged mage, trying to keep him pinned. The two sat deadlocked, their bodies quivering at the strain levied against eachother. The energy that juiced his muscles began to fade and Strazio knew he had one last chance to break free. He gritted his teeth together, almost grinding them to dust, as he pushed against the troll. The final surge of strength allowed Strazio to peel the troll from his winning position. Gamzee stumbled back as the mage pushed with incredible force. Strazio stumbled back to his feet. His muscle tissue was now ravaged from the destructive energy that powered his burst of strength.

The roar of a the crowd was a distant murmur, the troll's fists had left Strazio's head spinning. A couple good strikes to his ears turned the mage's world into nothing but a stinging ring. Blood dripped onto the dusty floor as it poured from his nose. His white undershirt was stained a dirty crimson color. His teeth felt loose and his gums swelled with the taste of blood. This fight was far from over, but he had already expended too much energy. Gamzee looked a bit burnt and bruised, but the troll stood tall and ready for more.

He couldn't keep fighting the troll in a straight slugfest, that would be foolish, but he did have an edge in the fight. A sick reward offered to him for surviving late into the abyss, a simple book bound in something reminiscent to human skin. The Necronomicon felt like a heavy answer strapped to Strazio's side. He hadn't used it before, but now seemed as good a time as any. The book was unclasped from its holster and the mage held it in front of his face. He couldn't read the profane words scrawled within, but he knew their purpose.


“You gonna read me a story motherfucker?" Gamzee taunted.

“Yeah, a real fuckin' scary one” Strazio shouted through a mouthful of blood.

Dark energies swirled around the book as Strazio called upon the corrupted power. From the ground three corpses dressed in tattered battle regalia crawled from their earthen tombs. The Colosseum was not built upon a graveyard, but the memories of the Deserters mixed with the twisted will of the Necromonicon forme the undead warriors. The first two zombies arose with murderous intent, their gaunt bodies rushed towards the troll while the third one stayed behind next to Strazio. They were clumsy, but their sheer tenacity and unwillingness to stay down gave Gamzee two unyielding punching bags. Strazio placed his hand onto the back of the third zombie and began to manipulate the latent explosive energy hidden within its flesh.

Gamzee's agility and raw strength was more than enough to keep the two clumsy warriors at bay, but no matter how hard he swung the zombies would simply stand back up and rush him again. The troll growled in frustration and reeled back his clubs, pulling into a stance similar to a big-league hitter. With one tremendous blow he sent the head of the first warrior flying across the battlefield. The headless body fell to the ground and withered away to dust. His minor victory was short-lived as the third zombie rushed him. The creature's eyes were a bright white and its skin barely contained the roiling energy within.

*BOOM*

A massive explosion rocked the battlefield as the energy-infused creature detonated itself. Another cloud of dirt was kicked up from this explosion and Strazio was certain that Gamzee had been vaporized. He sighed in relief and clasped the Necronomicon back to his hip. From the dust a juggling club was thrown at breakneck speeds and crashed into Strazio's sternum, knocking the wind from his lungs and forcing him to double over. In between choking gasps of air he asked.

“Why. Won't. You. Fucking. Die?”

[spoiler]Used Overcharge <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1961&p=14843#p14843">viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1961&p=14843#p14843</a><!-- l --> and won't be able to use it again this fight unless I want to take 2 damage.[/spoiler]

[Gamzee Makara]

Gamzee supposes that he should deal with these new threats, but finds that ‘dealing’ with them is a lot harder done than said. Er, easier said than done.

Whatever. Bottom line, motherfuckers won’t die.

The club wielding maniac just kept wailing on ‘em, but these undead dudes just would NOT give up. Truth be told, even though he had the wicked sound of crunching, shattering bones accompanying his every strike, the clown was getting just a little pissed.

Like, just a little.

“MotherFUCKERS!”

*SMACK!*

*CRACK!*

They just kept getting back up. The troll was just wearing himself out at this point. Seeing a brief but obvious opening, he tosses one club into the air. Amethyst eyes sparkling with murderous intent, Gamzee knocks the zombie’s block off with a two handed strike before catching the momentarily discarded juggling pin with a flourish and a bow.

The Capricorn beckons for another pitch. The mage is happy to oblige.

It suddenly (and quite literally) hits the fool that perhaps there were more than just two of these assholes. Another explosion envelopes the alien. What is this, like, the second or third one? Would it kill this two-bit magician to get some new material? Hell yeah it will, if this clown has anything to say about it.

God that ‘splosion hurt like a bitch. It even outright knocked him off his feet this time. The young troll thinks his eyebrows got singed off. With a groan induced from aching bones, he pulls himself from the dusty ground. Damned if he isn’t tired of tryin’ to see through dust. In aggravated frustration and with a whine similar to that of a five year old’s, Gamzee chucks the club in his left hand blindly out of the dust storm.

Judging from the nice smacking sound it sends back to him, the club found purchase, hopefully in the bastard’s face.

Stepping out of the swirling dirt, the Juggalo calmly flourishes his club, spinning it off the palm of his hand. A crazy grin remains plastered across his face at his foe’s voiced annoyance.

“Can’t keep down the Clown, bro,” Clown in question says, chuckling to himself. “Mistress Guu will never forgive me if I fail here. I’m representing her and Ambrosia. I’m fighting for something higher than you, bro-”

The subjugglator is about to launch into a diatribe when suddenly, he doesn’t. Something distracts him, something just barely above the dull and ever present roar of the crowd, Gamzee hears it.

“...YOU FUCKING CLOWN IF YOU LOSE I AM NEVER SPEAKING TO YOU AGAIN!”

Ada-

Oh.

Ouch.

The bard supposes that maybe there was another zombie.

Looking down at the ancient blade protruding from his stomach, he confirms that there was indeed another zombie.

Looking up at the smiling mage, Gamzee also suspects that maybe his explosion loving foe believes that he has won the fight.

He is sorely mistaken.

With a spine tingling cackle, the High-Blood begins to bust a gut. In his revelry, he coughs up some royal blood.

It tastes so good...

Without so much as a glance, the troll sends an elbow flying into his undead friend’s face, which in turn sends his face flying across the arena. Smiling violet eyes still on Rockwell, he begins a slow advance towards his enemy, reaching around his back to (somewhat awkwardly) retrieve the blade from his flesh with a small grunt. It’s covered in a purple, blood-soaked sheen.

Strazio watches enraged, disbelief in his eyes.

“Fucking die already!”

“Heh.”

He lets loose a furious roar, firing a deadly, thin bolt of raw magicks.

Alas, his target is a moving one. He does a cartwheel to the left, beam of energy just barely missing his leg as it spins into the air. The face-painted fool continues his march, smarmy smirk unwavering. The infuriated mage gives another battlecry, accompanied by another bolt of energy.

“Die! Die, damn you!”

Gamzee attempts to weave around this missile, but ultimately fails. A smattering of violet blood wets the dry earth of the Coliseum as the charge catches him in the left shoulder.

Could’ve been his head though, so that’s a win. The clown remains ever grinning.

The two combatants are less than ten paces away now.

The troll takes off at a dead sprint. Strazio prepares to let loose a shockwave of energy at his incoming assailant that never comes.

A chill shimmies its way up his spine.

"Honk."

Gamzee stands behind him, blade raised and ready for the slaughter.

[spoiler]I double checked like, twice. This is 750 to the letter on wordcounter.net.

ALSO: Let it be known that the Adam thing was not planned AT ALL. I saw an opportunity, and I took it purely for story purposes. I hope this does not rustle any jimmies.[/spoiler]

[Strazio Rockwell]

A flash of steel and blood preceded a line of painful fire carved into Strazio’s back. Gamzee chuckled in excitement as the injured mage tumbled forward. An audible gasp echoed throughout the crowd, even the Rock watched in stoic silence. The Defender of Darkshire fell to his hands and knees, and a deluge of hot blood cascaded from his sliced back. The troll laughed and kicked the mage sending him crashing into dirt. Straazio’s hands clenched and he tried to stand. The clown laughed and raised his sword. A sickening squelch filled the air as Gamzee impaled Strazio’s right hand into the ground.

He screamed in agony.

“Come on bro, just give up or I’m gonna have to kill your dumb ass” Gamzee smiled.

Strazio’s weight pinned the crest of Darkshire against the ground and his own flesh. He promised to be the savior of Darkshire and now he was going to be killed by some second-rate clown? Unthinkable. Pain was nothing, and these injuries were nothing compared to the bitter sting of defeat. His free hand reached over to the blood-stained blade and gripped the sharp metal tightly. The biting pain of the sword galvanized his resolve and from his palm a burst of bright white energy erupted, shattering the blade into hundreds of tiny metal shards. Gamzee laughed and raised his club high. With inhuman might the troll swung down.

The crunch of bone being turned to dust heralded the strike. At the last moment Strazio rolled to his side, bracing against the impact with his already-injured arm. Every major bone in his right arm was shattered. Against the devastating impact Strazio yelped in pain, but did not stop moving. He clamored to his feet and stood only a few paces from Gamzee. Strazio’s shattered arm hung limp and distended at his side, blood covered the fighter, but he was still alive and for that he grinned.

“Sorry clown, I’ve got a promise to keep,” Strazio took a moment to spit blood onto the dusty ground before smiling at his opponent “plus you’ve done a terrible thing today. You’ve made me absolutely livid.”

“Motherfucker, are you taunting me?” Gamzee smiled back and pointed his club at the broken man “Cause that’ll piss me off.”

The troll charged towards Strazio, hoping to cave his stupid head in. Strazio did not move, Gamzee was much faster than him and running would be foolish. Instead he braced for the attack, taking the entire brunt of the strike on his chest. His clavicle snapped and his ribs cracked, but he stood defiantly. Such a blow would slay a man, but Strazio was no man. No, he was the personification of pure rage, an avatar of anger. Strazio’s skin started to peel away, revealing a bright white figure underneath. His eyes filled with black and yellow.

The avatar’s grin disappeared and he spoke “you think you know rage?”

A roiling blast of destructive energy slammed into Gamzee’s chest sending him skidding away. Strazio’s body had been consumed by the burning energy. Every pain nerve flared to life and the mage gritted his teeth in acceptance of the agony. His hatred and fury far outweighed the pain of broken bones and bruised organs.

“You don’t know rage, you’re just a tourist with a temper,” Strazio fired a bolt of searing white energy at the troll and shouted “I live here!”

Gamzee side-stepped the devastating blow, but was unprepared for the follow-up. In a moment Strazio was upon him, firing another shockwave of pure energy into the troll’s chest. Sickly colored blood spew forth from Gamzee’s mouth, but the troll pulled his head far back. Strazio’s rampage was halted by another wicked horned-headbutt, forcing him to stumble backwards. Gamzee followed up with a wild swing of his club The juggling tool found its mark in Strazio’s side shattering a few more ribs. The avatar roared in defiance, his body was failing him, but his soul was still profoundly pissed off. Their battle raged on, every strike shattering bones and injuring internals. The crowd roared at this true display of brutality.

There would be no winner, only a survivor.

Activating Avatar of Rage for this post <!-- l --><a class="postlink-local" href="http://omniverse-rpg.com/viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1961&p=14843#p14843">viewtopic.php?f=30&t=1961&p=14843#p14843</a><!-- l -->
I think that concludes our fight, its up to the judge now!

[Strazio Rockwell]

The entire crowd cheered the two bloodthirsty maniac on. Every blow was answered with a racous cheer. The Rock took a sip from his tropical drink, a smirk across his lips. Gamzee friends cheered the clown one and grimaced for every blow he took. Neither fighter gave the other an inch, every blow was world-ending and every injury was severe. Strazio broke away from Gamzee after receiving a glancingblow to the head. His vision was blurry and his body was heavier than lead, but his simmering rage continued to burn. Gamzee however seemed to be enjoying himself. Between the giggle fits and the permanent smile the troll seemed to view this deathmatch as more of a high-stakes game of tag than a blood sport.

“Stay down you bastard! Fucking choke on that grin and die!” the avatar roared, firing another bolt of searing energy at his opponent.

“Batter up motherfucker!” Gamzee grinned and tossed a club high into the air. The troll crouched into a swing, pulling his club back over his shoulder. With a resounding thud he swung hard, connecting with the bolt. For a moment time the energy seemed to stop as Gamzee leaned into his line-drive. The bright bolt of energy finally warped its direction and rocketed off into the sky, crashing into the barrier. With impeccable showmanship the injured troll caught his other club and bowed deeply. Strazio roared and charged the carnival act, his broken limbs trailed behind him.

Gamzee side-stepped the avatar's bum-rush, but was too slow for the follow-up. Strazio's increased speed and aggression threw the troll's rhythm off kilter. He stumbled back as the avatar pushed his bright white body close to the troll's off-color skin. A burning hand was placed onto Gamzee's chest and all he could see was the avatar's yellow eyes and stark white smile. Time froze, energetic destructive sparks raced through Strazio's fingertips. A simple, but devastating shotgun of energy crashed into Gamzee's chest. Point-blank the force of the attack was magnified by the avatar's impressive power and Gamzee was sent sprawling into the dirt.

Strazio's skin began to reform and the angry white glow flickered and faded. Even the avatar had its limits and that last attack found them. The troll wasn't dead, not yet at least. Strazio limped over to his fallen opponent, brittle bones chewed at his organs and his arm swelled with bruised blood. Without help eath would come for Strazio soon and he knew it. All the tenacity in the world couldn't stop internal haemorrhaging He towered over the blood-stained troll, the stupid smile was still etched into Gamzee's mug. Weighty white sparks sloughed from Strazio's skin and coalesced into a swirling torret around his left forearm. Burns and lacerations appeared on his arm as he sacrificed his flesh for extra destructive power. He pointed his charged attack at Gamzee's head and yelled out to the crowd.

“Is this what you want?”

It was indeed what the crowd wanted. They wanted him to splatter Gamzee's multi-colored brains across the dirt. A smile cracked across Strazio's face and he looked back down at the incapacitated troll.

FWOOOSH

The beam of searing energy cracked across the open air towards Gamzee. It was a concentrated beam of pure anger and it was strong enough to bore a hole through a normal man. The beam crashed into the dirt floor digging a hole into the dusty arena. Strazio had spared his opponent and the crowd fell strangely silent. Even The Rock had removed his sunglasses in order to get a better view. A single solitary bird attached to Strazio's hand greeted the stunned onlookers.
“You can all get bent, he fought well and I have no desire to kill him” he wanted to spite The Rock for lying to him. He also didn't hate Gamzee, yes he made him mad, but the troll had done nothing wrong besides signing up for the tournament. Killing wasn't required and Strazio had no desire in spilling the blood of someone who hadn't maliciously intended to harm him. The Defender looked down at the defeated Gamzee who broke into a laughing fit.

“Give up, or I will kill you.”

“Fine, fine. No problem bro, I give up” Gamzee continued to snicker.

Strazio leaned down to his defeated opponent and whispered to him, “no hard feelings, even if you did ruin my cloak, find me after the tournament. I'll be in Darkshire, or message me on the dataverse.”

With that he turned to the silent crowd and limped out of the arena. Medical attendants rusehd to his aid and he almost collapsed as soon as he was declared the victor.