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

[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.