06-14-2018, 10:49 AM
For them, everything must have seemed so still. Enhanced senses. Incredible speed. Flawless execution of complex battle plans that were calculated and recalculated in the span of an instant.
The claymore spun perilously in the air, daring to fall back down on them as if dangling from a string above the throne. Makoto's fist snapped back crisply, Kerrigan's flattened nose spraying blood across the lower half of her face and down her chest.
The two combatants’ feet slid gracefully through the gore that coated the arena floor, each feint, step and sweep revealing a streak of the white tile beneath.
A quick succession of jabs was tied off with a clean and vicious body shot to the Queen's ribs. The thump of the impact could be heard across the ring and Kerrigan quickly doubled over, the back of her head exposed.
Makoto's hand reached back into the open air and the hilt of his blade fell into it, the edge in the exact right position, his arm poised in the ideal alignment to cleave her infested head from her shoulders.
A wild holler bellowed out and Makoto turned just in time to see a spiked pauldron plow into his midsection, the nameless marauder barreling into him like a runaway Mack truck.
They skittered across the ground, Makoto's feet refusing to leave the arena floor. The thin boy spun out of the tackle and snatched up both of the significantly larger women's wrists, the two staining against each other's strength as he beamed at her with his too-wide smile.
“Where is your hammer?” Kerrigan asked, her voice reverberating with psychic energy as she dodged and clashed with Taloc’s twin blades.
The bandit grunted, her feet sloshing along the slick surface. “Dropped it!” She barked back as Makoto repositioned and bore down.
“Why?” The Queen of Blades’ massive wing blades swept wide, deflecting a needle from the air.
“I dunno!” The Ass Kicker's knee wobbled, blood still gushing from the stab deep in her thigh. “Seemed like a good idea!” She grinned, staring up into the boy's frozen expression. “Besides, this kid is strong…”
Her entire body stained, her hulking frame flexing with all the might a life in the wasteland had afforded her. Makoto's arms began to tremble, slowly being bent backwards. “... BUT I'M STRO-”
Her words were cut off as a stiff knee blasted into her already wounded gut, the rest of her breath leaving her in a wheeze as she crumpled over. Makoto's fists flashed across her face in a furious combination that was too fast for the naked eye, her head being tossed about like a game of paddleball. He pulled back his black leather shoe and delivered the denouement of his concert of savagery, sending the woman soaring.
Her back hit the ground and she slid limply, arms at her side, her metal armor whining pathetically as it scraped along the unbreakable stone. She gradually came to a stop and laid there, eyes pointed up into at sky, a blank look on her swollen, battered face. She took a deep, pained breath and sighed.
Kerrigan's maniac laughter could be heard from the other side of the arena. A poison dart flit overheard. Powerful winds gusted and a telekinetic stream of detritus swirled dramatically. The sound of furious steel clashing in a dramatic fight for survival sang in the air.
She turned her head to the side and spit out a tooth.
It was all just noise to her. It was noise and motion and chaos. All of their fancy footwork and their special brains with special thoughts and brooding stratagems were meaningless. It was just another fight. Blood and grit was all that was necessary.
Groaning, she rolled to her good leg and began to push herself up when Taloc appeared before her, already swinging his dagger down onto her head. It was too late to move; of course the attack had been flawlessly timed.
Just before his blade could find home, a resounding CLANG echoed out and he was tossed unceremoniously to the ground, an engine block soldered to a big metal stick hovering in his place.
“Oh,” the woman said passively as she staggered up and took it from the air, “that's where I left this thing.”
Kerrigan nodded with a sly smirk and relinquished her telekinetic control of the hammer, it's full weight sagging into the bandit's hands.
The heavy metal marauder snarled and stepped forward, looming over the assassin. Her leg trembled and lurched. Blood stained her already filthy top, dribbling from the gash in her gut. Her face was mangled nearly beyond recognition. Long, metallic darts still protruded from her arm and belly. Every piece of her was broken, dirty, and barely functional.
She hefted the hilariously overweight weapon and grinned, one of her incisors noticeably absent.
“Having a good time?” she asked, slurring through swollen lips. Taloc rolled to his feet and in a single fluid motion flung another spine into her cheek.
She revved her hammer, it's engine roaring like the throat of an angry thunder god.
“Me too.”
The claymore spun perilously in the air, daring to fall back down on them as if dangling from a string above the throne. Makoto's fist snapped back crisply, Kerrigan's flattened nose spraying blood across the lower half of her face and down her chest.
The two combatants’ feet slid gracefully through the gore that coated the arena floor, each feint, step and sweep revealing a streak of the white tile beneath.
A quick succession of jabs was tied off with a clean and vicious body shot to the Queen's ribs. The thump of the impact could be heard across the ring and Kerrigan quickly doubled over, the back of her head exposed.
Makoto's hand reached back into the open air and the hilt of his blade fell into it, the edge in the exact right position, his arm poised in the ideal alignment to cleave her infested head from her shoulders.
A wild holler bellowed out and Makoto turned just in time to see a spiked pauldron plow into his midsection, the nameless marauder barreling into him like a runaway Mack truck.
They skittered across the ground, Makoto's feet refusing to leave the arena floor. The thin boy spun out of the tackle and snatched up both of the significantly larger women's wrists, the two staining against each other's strength as he beamed at her with his too-wide smile.
“Where is your hammer?” Kerrigan asked, her voice reverberating with psychic energy as she dodged and clashed with Taloc’s twin blades.
The bandit grunted, her feet sloshing along the slick surface. “Dropped it!” She barked back as Makoto repositioned and bore down.
“Why?” The Queen of Blades’ massive wing blades swept wide, deflecting a needle from the air.
“I dunno!” The Ass Kicker's knee wobbled, blood still gushing from the stab deep in her thigh. “Seemed like a good idea!” She grinned, staring up into the boy's frozen expression. “Besides, this kid is strong…”
Her entire body stained, her hulking frame flexing with all the might a life in the wasteland had afforded her. Makoto's arms began to tremble, slowly being bent backwards. “... BUT I'M STRO-”
Her words were cut off as a stiff knee blasted into her already wounded gut, the rest of her breath leaving her in a wheeze as she crumpled over. Makoto's fists flashed across her face in a furious combination that was too fast for the naked eye, her head being tossed about like a game of paddleball. He pulled back his black leather shoe and delivered the denouement of his concert of savagery, sending the woman soaring.
Her back hit the ground and she slid limply, arms at her side, her metal armor whining pathetically as it scraped along the unbreakable stone. She gradually came to a stop and laid there, eyes pointed up into at sky, a blank look on her swollen, battered face. She took a deep, pained breath and sighed.
Kerrigan's maniac laughter could be heard from the other side of the arena. A poison dart flit overheard. Powerful winds gusted and a telekinetic stream of detritus swirled dramatically. The sound of furious steel clashing in a dramatic fight for survival sang in the air.
She turned her head to the side and spit out a tooth.
It was all just noise to her. It was noise and motion and chaos. All of their fancy footwork and their special brains with special thoughts and brooding stratagems were meaningless. It was just another fight. Blood and grit was all that was necessary.
Groaning, she rolled to her good leg and began to push herself up when Taloc appeared before her, already swinging his dagger down onto her head. It was too late to move; of course the attack had been flawlessly timed.
Just before his blade could find home, a resounding CLANG echoed out and he was tossed unceremoniously to the ground, an engine block soldered to a big metal stick hovering in his place.
“Oh,” the woman said passively as she staggered up and took it from the air, “that's where I left this thing.”
Kerrigan nodded with a sly smirk and relinquished her telekinetic control of the hammer, it's full weight sagging into the bandit's hands.
The heavy metal marauder snarled and stepped forward, looming over the assassin. Her leg trembled and lurched. Blood stained her already filthy top, dribbling from the gash in her gut. Her face was mangled nearly beyond recognition. Long, metallic darts still protruded from her arm and belly. Every piece of her was broken, dirty, and barely functional.
She hefted the hilariously overweight weapon and grinned, one of her incisors noticeably absent.
“Having a good time?” she asked, slurring through swollen lips. Taloc rolled to his feet and in a single fluid motion flung another spine into her cheek.
She revved her hammer, it's engine roaring like the throat of an angry thunder god.
“Me too.”