Colosseum - Round 1, Group B - Adam Gaite vs Ballad

[Storyteller]

Adam Gaite stood before the colors of the Kingdom. Behind him, an array of fancy weapons beckoned for him to grab them and do terrible things to the combatant on the other side of the battlefield.

Ballad, who had only just recently butchered his way from the Nexus, smirked at the Deserters colors and the weapons collected for his use. News traveled fast in the Omniverse, and more than a few people knew that this match contained a felon wanted for the murder of some of the Kingdom's reviled foes. #ExecutionerBallad managed to trend on OmniTwitter even before the fight started.

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 – Sinestro

Adam Gaite 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.

[Roger Smith]

This was going to be awful. That was all there was to it. Never mind the fact that there were so many fucking people in the stands, all of them watching. Never mind the fact that death was apparently a very real possibility, if his opponent was of such a gruesome mindset. But on top of all that, he had checked in one last time on the Dateverse just before stepping out into the arena and had been met with something that was most definitely... Well, it was off-putting.

#ExecutionerBallad

The audience was on his enemy's side in this one. Adam might have been the one on the side of the Kingdom's colors, but he was most definitely not the favorite in this particular engagement. Not that he was ever the favorite in anything, mind. It was fine by him. It was just fine. It was fucking perfect.

"This entire god damn situation is full of shit. All of it. It is one giant mass of shit. Of the bull variety."

Squinting his eyes to try and get a look at his opponent, he couldn't really tell much. Lots of dark clothing covering just about everything, what looked like a god damn ax of some description strapped across their back, and some vaguely gun-like device in one hand. Dear god, it was fucking Arctic Survival Lumberjack McWestern man. Fuck.

When the gong sounded, Adam flinched visibly,shooting an accusing glare toward the source of the ringing noise, before he spun on one heel and all but launched himself at the weapons arrayed for his use. He snatched a crossbow off the rack and then promptly made a beeline for the nearest barricade, scooting into cover behind it. "Okay, okay, Adam, think...you can do this. You can totally do this. You survived freaking SBURB, this is nothing. Don't panic. Stop panicking. Stop fucking panicking."

He did not stop panicking.

He took several deep breaths to try and calm himself, closing his eyes to try and focus on less unpleasant thoughts. "Okay, okay, okay... I got this. I'm good, I'm cool. Don't think about dying. Do what Rhys told you. Focus on one thing at a time. This is just like the game session." He opened his eyes,staring at nothing in particular. "Right. One thing at a time. Firstly, gotta see what this fuck is made of."

With all the grace of a drunken camel, Adam scrambled to his feet and darted out of cover, the crossbow he had swiped raised and ready to fire as his eyes scanned the other side of the arena portion. He was interrupted from his scanning by the unexpected sound of a gunshot, and the sharp crack of bullet meeting stone. Stone powder and splinters were the next thing he saw. And that was all he needed. He was off. Low to the ground, heading for the nearest barricade once again. There was another gunshot and a new hole presented itself in the ground, uncomfortably close to having lodged itself right in Adam's leg.

He hit the dirt -- literally -- in cover and quickly rolled to the opposite side of the barricade, leaning out on his back, and he just up and threw the fucking crossbow he was still holding in the approximate direction of the gunfire, before bringing his own cleverly-concealed weapon to bear, and staring down the sights. He saw movement as his thrown distraction that had been intended to be a crossbow hit the dirt, his very, very green opponent leaning out of cover to see what the fuck had just clattered into the ground, and Adam took his shot to return fire.

There was a hiss from the barrel of his rifle as he fired, and a red laser burned a scorch mark on the stone barricade his opponent made use of, and they hurriedly retreated back behind it. "Shit...can't believe I missed that..." Adam grumped at his own failure, keeping his aim trained on the barricade for any sign of his opponent emerging to either try another shot or move somewhere else.

It was time for the waiting game.

[Corporal Light]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Cheer, Cheer, cheer. People killing each other is fun, yada, yada, yada." Those were the words Ballad was shooting out of his mouth when he just barely avoided a face-full of a fucking laser beam. He had no idea this guy had a damn heat gun. Which further provides proof that he should never underestimate an opponent. Ballad took a quick moment to look up towards the top of the Colosseum, seeing the crowd clapping and cheering their names. He was still astonished how so many people figured out his name so quickly. He hadn't really done anything.. except cause a scene at the Carnival. Maybe that was it. The other thing he didn't understand at all was why the hell did it look like they made the place look exactly like a damn battlefield? What is the point of that? In fact, why CELEBRATE these stupid wars in the first place? Are people really so stupid that they think the side they support is the right one? Oh sure, the Kingdom were the good guys. Why the flying fuck do you think they had deserters if they were so pitch perfect, huh?

Alright, snap out of it. Let's see if this guy is still there. He had fallen for the throw-weapon trick, and he was not about to fall for it again.

Sliding his head past the barrier once more, he suddenly jerked his head back as a red laser punched the dirt ground where his head had just been.

"This guy is pretty damn accurate, I'll give him that. If only I could better see what he was doing, but he's so damn far away."

Okay, focus. That guy has a gun that is probably dangerous, and he knows how to use it. What to do? Ballad looks around behind him, his heart sinking when he finds no other barricades behind him. Alright, so I'm essentially a sitting duck right here. Looks like my only option is to fire, go back into cover, than charge towards the nearest barricade. Looking around, he finds a barricade a good distance away, easily far enough to allow Adam another shot. Sighing, Ballad readies himself for his next move. Let's just hope this guy misses next.

Taking in a deep breath, he suddenly stands up from cover, pulling back the hammer of his revolver. In a total of four seconds, he fires off two more shots. In the middle of cocking for his second shot, Adam fires his weapon again, not missing this time. As Ballad falls back into cover, the laser grazes his left shoulder, causing him to let out a pained grunt. Annoyed, he shouts out a bunch of obscenities, masking out the grunts of pain from Adam, who had also taken a bullet to his right shoulder.

Behind the barricade, Adam was holding his left hand against his right shoulder, the shoulder bleeding a bit from the bullet grazing it. Shit, I hope I got him. Please God tell me I got him. Gripping his hidden weapon, he grits his teeth, raising his concealed rifle again, pointing at the barricade he saw the green man. At that moment, he saw the green man sprinting towards another barricade, one that faced his own, and was a whole lot closer. Can't let him reach it. Firing the rifle, he just barely manages to graze the man's foot as he passes behind the barricade.

Ballad lets out a grunt of pain as the red laser passes above his foot, leaving a slight burn where it passed. Moving behind the five-foot barricade, he tightens the grip of his revolver. Taking another peek outside the barricade, he manages to get a closer look at the opponent before moving his head back behind cover. He was wearing all red, which makes Ballad wonder how the hell the guy walks around without getting noticed. He might as well have a 'Please-shoot-me-in-the-face' sigh strapped all around his body. And he still had the piece of metal in his hands. He had to remove it as soon as he possibly could.

Keeping the left side of his body against the dusty brick wall of the barricade, he proceeds to taunt Adam, shouting "You are such an awful shot, you know that? Twice now you could've killed me. And TWICE you've failed! What does that say about your skill with a weapon?"

Ballad then goes quiet, listening. He wanted to see if it worked. If this guy was as.. occasionally temperamental as he was, than his words would at least piss him off. Make him do something irrational. Then we can get this over with so I don't have to listen to a cheering crowd for another hour or so.

[Roger Smith]

"Fucking shit, man..."

It had been way too long since he'd been shot with...well, y'know...actual bullets. And it hurt. It had only been a graze, and luckily hadn't struck bone or left a souvenir hanging around lodged in his flesh, but that didn't stop it from tearing a hole through his hoodie and letting blood flow freely. It was a miracle he'd managed to even graze mean green revolver man, with the steadily-throbbing ache in his shoulder messing with his aim.

And now he was being mocked by some fuck who looked like he just crawled out of the snow. It was more than irritating. It was downright infuriating.

"Real fuckin' neato, there, mean green bean," he shouted in return, keeping his aim steady on the barricade Ballad had ducked behind. "You're still breathin', yeah, but shit, so am I. And guess what, Paul Bunyan? I'm two for four here. You're one for four." He couldn't help the mocking tone that crept into his words as he continued. "So I guess we BOTH suck with our weapons, huh?"

He slowly floated out from behind cover, keeping his aim steady, and hovered forward, several inches above the ground. He was moving along at a fairly rapid pace, hoping to get an edge in his mostly soundless form of movement and get in closer to ensure his aim wouldn't fuck up from distance again.

"So lemme ask you a thing here, shooty mcstraybullet," he called out, dropping his steadying hand from his rifle holding it palm outward at the barricade. His aim wavered, and wasn't quite so steady anymore...but he was fairly confident he could still make the shot if Mean Green popped his scarf-wearing ass out of cover to take another shot. "You're over there badmouthin' MY aim and everything. But what about you? You're the one who had the bright idea to bring a sidearm as your main weapon, Jolly Green, so whassat say about you? Nothing good, y'know..."

He trailed off from his insults and bent his mind to focusing. He flexed his fingers into a loose fist, as if grabbing something tightly. The air just above and behind the barricade, relative to Adam's viewpoint, started to rapidly grow warmer, and there is a faint, almost sub-audible whine as the natural reaction struggles to assert itself over Adam's controlling influence.

Having clued in to something being up by Adam's sudden silence, Ballad poked his head around the corner out of cover again. A swift laser bolt arcing past his face sent him back into cover. He had already caught on to Adam being up to something, with the strange look of focus on the kid's face. He didn't know what, but it couldn't be good. He had only two shots left, so he needed to make them count...

He took a deep breath and then turned and darted the other way, springing out of cover on the opposite side of the barricade. His revolver came up, there was the crack of a gunshot, and then he was literally blasted off his feet as the air above him exploded.

Adam meanwhile let out a resounding "FUCK!" and was soundly relieved of his rifle, the hand wielding it suffering a direct hit and his jerk of pain sending the weapon flying out of his grasp, end over end and well out of reach. He hit the ground with a thud, his focus on maintaining his airborne status wrecked by the IMMENSE FUCKING PAIN in his hand. He opted to half-crawl and scramble toward the nearest cover, hoping against hope that mean green was too busy being on fire or dazed or something to put a bullet in his back as he did so.

[Corporal Light]

"Fire bombs! THAT'S what you were doing, you fucking crazy arsonist!" Ballad shouted this as well as a bunch of other colorful language as he is blown off of his feet by a sudden explosion that slid along his back. The resulting heat made his clothes catch fire, barely touching his skin. Screaming in pain, he quickly rolls to his left, extinguishing the flames in a few seconds. Groaning in pain, he stands back up, revolver still in his right hand. He was now majority pissed off. Once he got his hands on the runt, he was going to rip his goddamn head off and force him to eat shit.

Whipping around, he raises his revolver, finding that the red-hooded man was no longer in the vicinity. But what WAS in his vicinity was the piece of metal in his hand. He got him. I mean, he didn't doubt that he would get him, but man. It takes someone with awesome skill to land a shot like that.

And just like that, his confidence increased dramatically. Beginning to gloat, he walks towards the piece of metal as he shouts "Poor aim, you said. One to four, you said. Guess who just shot your piece of useless metal out of your hands, idiot!" It was most likely his taunts and jeers that made the opponent act the way he did. If he continued, the opponent will definitely lose.

Stopping in front of the piece of metal, which now that he looked like it looked like the metal version of a wooden crutch, he proceeds to quickly slide five more bullets into his revolver. Didn't want to run out of ammo. Then, he slithers his left hand down towards the crutch, grabbing it with his left hand. Looking forward, he could see a small trench line not too far away. Smiling, he chucks the crutch towards the trench line, it landing about 30 feet away from it.

During this time. Adam had been able to slide into cover, and was now watching the man insult him while throwing his weapon. This made him angry. Angrier than ever before. If this green goblin with a gun thinks he can insult him and his amazing skills, than he is in for a great big fucking surprise.

As Ballad proceeds to slide his revolver into his coat, Adam sprang into action. Moving his uninjured hand towards his motherfucking lightsaber, he jerks his thumb against the button, creating a red laser that emitted from the end of the lightsaber. His face red with fury, he hops over the barricade as the man takes out his axe-looking thing, or at least was in the process of doing it.

Ballad was doing that for a reason. He had gotten a sneaking suspicion this runt didn't have just firebombs and heat guns. So, just in case, he was taking out his Pickaxe. Then, as he turned around, he saw a red swish. Then his coat was cut open across his chest and he was thrown back.

Landing on his back, pickaxe in his right hand, he looks back up to his assailant, confusion in his eyes. Standing above him was the runt, holding an odd looking blade, and he definitely looked furious. He had got a good swipe across his chest, with the only thing stopping it from cleaving him in half being the white armor underneath his coat. Still bruised him badly, though.

This guy came prepared, thought Adam as he looked down at the damage made. He didn"t cut him in half or anything like that (damn.) But he was
certain he did damage. Smiling, he says "What was that, green bean? Couldn't hear you over the sound of me kicking your cabbage ass. I'll have you know, I've killed hundreds of thousands of people just like you, and they all had weapons far greater than-"

He would've finished his sentence. He would've done it if he wasn't trying to be more than he was. Ballad honestly didn't want to hear his gloats, similar to how Adam didn't want to hear his. About to make the same mistake, he thought, as he jerks his legs to the side, causing Adam to stumble to his left, lightsaber falling out of his uninjured hand.

Seizing the opportunity, Ballad pushes himself off of the ground, beginning the melee showdown.

[Roger Smith]

"Gah, shit!"

He stumbled and had to brace his fall or eat a mouthful of dirt. Unfortunately, in blind-reflex mode as he was, he chose to break his fall with the same hand that had just eaten a bullet. The curse of pain that spewed from his mouth was positively incendiary, and he ended up on the ground anyway, his injured hand clutched tightly against his chest. "God damn this shit is getting old..."

He scrabbled in the dirt for his lightsaber with his uninjured hand, and his fingers found it as he managed to get his feet under him. He staggered to his feet just as mean green clambered upright. "Alright, so...I was a little harsh there...you're not so bad with that gun, jolly green...you sure got me good."

"And you...you just never run out of tricks, do you?" Ballad growled in response. He hefted his pickaxe in both hands, staring intensely at Adam. It made the young Heir of Time flinch and shrink back from the angry green man.

Adam sighed, bringing his lightsaber up into a ready stance. "Well...let's get this over and done with."

"Couldn't agree more." Ballad leaned forward, looking ready to pounce.

And they both slowly circled, looking for an opening.

Adam took a quick step in, but Ballad only shifted his stance, holding that blasted pickaxe up yo easily intercept a coming blow.

Adam was forced to back off.

"Think, Adam, think. You can get past this vegetable lookin' fuck..." It wasn't going to be easy. He'd need to either straight up outspeed Ballad, or leave himself open intentionally for a feint and hope to god he was quick enough to exploit the opening Ballad might leave when HE took a swing. Then again, he would always just...

"Let's see how this works..."

Adam took a step back, and then another, earning a confused look from Ballad. Adam only smiled, with a look that suggested he knew something Ballad didn't. "Got one more trick up my sleeve, pal." And then he immediately kicked off, up into the air. It looked like a spectacular leap, easily a dozen feet up, but then he just stopped. He hung there for a moment before he darted down, lightsaber held at the ready.

The red blade of energy met the haft of Ballad's pickaxe. There was a resounding clang, and the winter-weather clad green skinned man was forced back half a step, but otherwise held his ground, his scowl growing more intensely. "This...flying thing...is really getting old!" he growled, shoving back against the deadlock.

"Yeah, yeah, bite me...!" Adam snarled right back. But he was already seeing this wasn't going to work. The initial strike had given him the advantage, but he could already feel it: mean green was stronger than he was, probably even if he was using both arms. He wasn't going to be able to just push this through with brute strength. He needed to do something...

He felt a flash of pain in his knee, startling him enough to let up on his efforts to resist being pushed back. He was shoved back, and Ballad promptly planted a snow-covered boot right into Adam's kneecap, the jolt of very real pain once again shocking him into a rough landing, his un-kicked leg hitting the ground first, his injured hand clutching his aching knee.

"The fuck...was that?" He was more confused than anything at this point, too out of his head to let the pain debilitate him. It felt just like when...

Time.

He was recovering his powers, that was the only explanation.

Another flash of movement and a spark of a sharp, crushing pain in the back of his head drove a spike of panic into his gut, and he hit the deck in a rough tumble, flopping ass over elbows forward and away, and no sooner did he move than the ground where he'd just been sitting was smashed open by Ballad's pickaxe, the heavy metal tool driving frighteningly easy into the earth. Ballad's eyes were firmly affixed on Adam. "Lucky move there...thought I had you."

"I thought you had me too..." Adam mumbled, more surprised than ever. But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. "But I guess I'm just that much of a lucky bastard." He grinned, and brought his lightsaber up into a ready stance. "Carry on."

[Corporal Light]

Ballad stared at the red-hooded teen, shocked at how easily the kid rolled it of the way of his attack. Under normal circumstances, he'd have crushed his skull wide open. Then he just... dodged. Like he knew it was coming. Of fucking course. This kid had something else up his sleeve. Can't keep thinking these people aren't dangerous. or I'm going to get my ass beat.

Though, to be fair, it wasn't like he was losing. Hell, he felt like he was winning more than anything. Adam must've felt the same way. His defense was simply too much for blind rage and the power of a lightsaber to punch through. He couldn't take him on head on, or to the side, or anywhere or... at range.

A metaphorical lightbulb turns on above Adam's head. The crossbow! I can use it! Try to shoot him before he absolutely destroys me. He didn't pick it up, so it should still be there. Just need to keep him distracted long enough to go and get it.

And with that, the melee resumes. Both characters taking whacks at each other, with neither getting anywhere past occasional bruises and cuts. Adam was just a little too fast, and with his powers returning, he could more easily predict Ballad before he acts. Doesn't really help when he was blocking two-thirds of his attacks, which was just downright annoying.

Ballad, too, was getting irritated. This fucking runt won't stop dodging his attacks. If only he was faster, then he wouldn't be having this problem.

Suddenly, as Ballad raises his pickaxe upwards for an overhead swing, Adam takes advantage of the situation. Raising his red lightsaber upwards and twisting it horizontally, he manages to parry the attack as it comes down. Sliding to the cabbage man's left, he proceeds to make a clean slice horizontally down his left side, causing the man to cry out in pain.

Ballad proceeds to take a few steps back, his slightly burned foot suddenly sparking with pain as he steps on it wrong. His uninjured leg stumbles forward, similar to how Adam did when Ballad got the upper hand, as he grips his wound. Red blood was flowing out of it. A nice, clean wound. For the love of god, if he loses to this red-hooded bitch, he will go fucking bonkers.

Speaking of going bonkers, the crowd had been doing that for a while already. The shouting and the gasps and the boos and the jeers constantly bellowed out into the stadium. A gigantic cacophony of noise. But Ballad had drowned them out a long while ago. He had done that to others before, and this wasn't a new thing for him.

Standing back up, he twirls his pickaxe, ready to fight some more as he sees Adam running away from him. What the fuck is he doing? Something sneaky, he knew it. So he did not give chase. Whatever he was going for couldn't be anything good. But there was hardly anything over there, so what could-

The crossbow.

His eyes almost glowed in realization as he began to half-run, half-stumble towards the direction of where he last remembered the crossbow. As he does this, he drops the pickaxe, taking out his revolver. If it came down to ranged combat, he'll hopefully get a shot off before getting shot himself.

That was what was weird about this whole thing. Not the cheering crowd, or the amateur play-like setting, nor even the medieval weaponry. It was the fact that, for what appeared to be the first time in.. forever, he'd found a respectable opponent. All others he'd faced looked dangerous but harmless, or not harmless at all. Not this guy, and he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Dashing around the corner, he raises his revolver, only to fly backwards as a crossbow bolt lodges itself into his chest armor, with him lying face down on the ground,

Adam stared at the body, his lightsaber clipped to his belt. It worked. He couldn't believe it actually worked. Chuckling in joy, he sets down the crossbow, standing back up from his kneeling position. It was a gamble, but it worked. But he had to be sure.

Igniting his lightsaber, he walks up to the body of Ballad. As he does this, he begins to feel rather quesy in his stomach, like that moment when Ballad nearly brained him with his pickaxe.

I believe that is the final round. This was rather fun!

[Roger Smith]

Adam wobbles on his feet, one hand going to his head. "Oh god now please tell me I didn't actually get shot now now oh god...." He trails off, eyes snapping wide open as he sees Ballad roll over onto his back, in a half-sitting posture. Adam is left staring dumbly, and it clicks in his head at the same time as the hammer of that blasted revolver does: I'm going to get shot. He sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth and ducked low, both hands on his head now. "Agh...ggg...." He blinked once. Then again. Mean green was still just sort of laying there like a sack of potatoes.

There was a small, angry little demon flailing around with sledgehammer inside of his skull. That was the only possible explanation.

Chk-clak

Adam hit the dirt, literally on hands and knees, and his eyes darted to Ballad, now holding, in the most literal sense possible, the smoking gun. "Jesus fucking christ, dude, you almost took my head off! Learn when to quit!"

Ballad merely scowled, trying to get up into a sitting position. His thumb went for the hammer of the gun again, readying it for another shot. "Giving up ain't in my vocabulary, ya little runt!"

Adam didn't wait around for the second gunshot. He snatched his lightsaber from his belt with his uninjured hand, and kicked off the ground with his good leg. His hood fell back from his head, finally, after all it had stayed resolutely in place for, and the young Heir of Time twisted into a corkscrew in his low flight, putting all of the momentum and speed he could into the blow, the blade of the lightsaber flaring to life with an angry hiss and proceeding to hum its telltale death song. Sparks flew every which way as red met green.

Adam earned himself a face full of dust and dirt from his low trajectory, but Ballad earned himself a stinging gash on his hand to match the gunshot wound he'd given earlier, his own weapon sailing away well out of reach. A string of respectably sailor-like curses spewed from the green man, his hand curling into a fist. He rolled back over, hands planting themselves into the ground and scrambled back to his feet.

Adam, covered in dust, dirt, and more than what might called a 'minor' amount of blood, stood in front of him. He was leaning rather heavily on one leg, and the former red coloration of anger had faded from his face. His expression still bespoke a strong disapproval, but he just looked...tired, more than anything.

Oh, and the red blade of humming death was currently being held out at Ballad's face, less than half a foot away. "Give it up, man. I'm beat. You're beat. We're both gonna come out of this worse for the wear already. Just let it go."

Both of the green man's hands clenched into fists, his eyebrows knitting together. A low growl rose in his throat and his entire body tensed up, ready to pounce. He rose up and lunged forward -- right onto his injured foot. The growl of probably anger died in his throat and found itself replaced by a grunt of pain and Ballad took a knee. "Shit..."

"We're done here, I think..." Adam said, and let his arm drop. "I'm done. Keep on going if you want, man...but someone's gonna die if this escalates much more. I've been there, done that; it sucks. I'd rather not do it again, and I don't really wanna go killing anybody myself. So just knock it off. This shit was entirely pointless anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever..." Ballad growled. "Just...make it look good for the 'adoring fans'..."

Adam shrugged. "Whatever, man." He took hold of his lightsaber in both hands, raised it overhead, and took a step forward, leading into a heavy, downward strike with the laser sword. It came down and met green skin and white armor with a hissing whine, carving another line of agony over the green man's chest before Adam kicked him over, as if to add that extra 'something special', leaving the angry winter survivalist man-thing to collapse into a heap on one side.

"Shit, man," Adam complained, turning away to limp off and go after his primary weapon. "This blows..."