12-23-2015, 02:11 PM
Haplessly fired lasers continued to fly around Shang Tsung as he doubled over, the hole in his flank still hissing as the flesh cooled. He bared he teeth in frustration and anger, then looked up to his opponent with a malevolent glare. Swatting a few more bolts from his path, then inhaled deeply. An orange-red glow filled the back of his throat, and trail of black smoke foretold what would come next. With an other-worldly roar, the sorcerer belched forth a turbulent cloud of white-hot flame.
Though the fires didn’t quite bridge the gap between them, the sudden brightness and heat caused the woman to recoil, shielding her eyes with her hand. When it dropped, Shang’s grinning face was only a few feet away.
Instantly dropping her rifle, she stepped to the side, narrowly managing to avoid a thrust from the humming plasma weapon. Stepping in, she managed to grab both of his hands, holding the tip of the lightsaber away from her body, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her opponent. Deftly twirling it into a reverse grip, Shang thrust it backwards back into the brawny marauder, her armor crackling as it passed over and through.
A few protruding segments were instantly sheered away as the two wrestled for control, stepping forward and back and the bullied each other for position. With a snarl, she lifted her foot and slammed it back down on top of his, and an audible crack could be heard. Taking advantage of his temporary distracted, she threw and elbow back, snapping his head backwards.
She pried the deadly saber from his hand and instantly dismissed the blade. “That’s enough of that shit,” she quipped, then flung the small steel tube across the arena, far enough that it bounced off of the unseen wall that surrounded them. She began to turn back to the warrior monk, “Now what were we sayi-“
The woman was interrupted as a long strip of metal punched from her gut, her blood glistening over the tip. She stammered, wide eyed, as she tried reconcile the garble of information that her mind and body were feeding her. “Hrrhk?” was all she could manage staring down at the injury, the tarkatan blade shoved from her lower back out of her abdomen.
There was a strange beauty in the way that the crimson trickled over the gleaming silver, forming sluggish eddies as it ran through the gentle channel down its center, cascading from the tip and into the red-brown soil below. The majesty lasted only a moment however, and the sorcerer tore the weapon back through the path it had come.
It was only through confused instinct that she managed to lift a gauntlet up and block Shang Tsung’s follow up, defending against an attack that would have taken her head from her neck. She staggered forward and quickly fell in an uncontrolled heap onto the ground, the majority of the muscles that allowed her stand having been sliced in two.
Frantically she searched the arena floor, and then slammed her fist entirely through the rifle that lay on the ground beside her. With a crackle, the energy cell ruptured, and the air was filled with an ever-increasing pitched whine.
The soul-stealer leapt into the air for the coup de grace only to be caught mid-air by a blanket of bright-red. The force of the explosion carried him along with it, only releasing him to be flung through the air, his back crashing into the stone pillar of the Black Gate. He fell to the ground limply, but almost immediately began to stir.
In the crater that had been created, there lay the fataly-wounded woman with no name. “Omni damned magical assholes,” she grumbled to herself, the delicate presence of desperation in her whisper. Unchecked tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, the result of her body’s almost instant descent into complete failure. Despite the fact that parts of her were still actively on fire, she rolled to the side and tried to get to her feet. With a willful heave, she was up on her one good leg.
She took a single, shaky step and fell with a cloud of dust. Face down in the dirt, she propped herself on one elbow, but allowed her head to hang, her dreadlocks covering her face. “Fuck…” she whimpered, “I guess it’s really over.” A faint smile crossed her lips, “I guess I did ok. I got pretty far.” He smile grew into a grin, and her grin into a laugh. Soon, she was cackling into the ground, her bloody back heaving up and down with every breath.
She heard the sound of footsteps to the front, but she didn’t bother lifting her head yet. “What are you laughing at?” the sorcerer asked, his voice calm and assured.
Her laughter trailed away, and she let her bleary eyes find his. “I’m sorry.”
The man was taken aback, “What? What do you mean?”
She shook her head softly, “This wasn’t my best you know. I really dropped the ball, man.”
His eyebrow perked, seemingly unimpressed with her confession. “Oh? And what should have I expected?”
The toothy grin returned. “To lose.”
He chuckled and folded his hands in front of himself. “Oh, is that so?” He stepped back and whipped his arms down, the blades that had killed her flashing from his forearms, “Then let us finish this the right way. Fight me.”
The crippled warrior shook her head. “Nah, man. We both know it’s over. I can’t win in this condition.”
A thin smirk glided over his lips, his snake-like eyes narrowing into slits. “And you won’t retain your honor, trying to fight me to the bitter end?”
She laughed to herself, then jerked as a muscle spasm reminded her of the horrible wound she carried. “I figure I’d rather go out my way that kicking and screaming. I’m not trying to make your victory cheap, I’m just tired. I don’t got it in me to put every ounce of piss and vinegar into a fight I already know I’ve lost.”
The Kombatant sighed, and his weapons slid back home. “I see.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I dunno, I was… distracted or something. I didn’t really get to show you everything I’ve got.”
“I’m sure,” he hissed sarcastically, his every movement punctuating his self-confidence.
The woman shifted slightly, then winced heavily, the pain of her injuries suddenly catching up to her. “It’s… it’s ok. Good work.” Her voice had already begun to soften, the pool of blood beneath her spreading in every direction. She blinked, her eyebrows growing heavy in her ashen face. “Alright, I don’t got much time left, I don’t think.”
The monk stared down upon her wordlessly.
“Oh, ok man, c’mon, help me out here.” She beckoned him down, “Help me sit up at least, you fucker.”
Shang Tsung scowled and pursed his lips incredulously, but again said nothing.
“It’s not like…” she faded for a moment, head dropping towards the ground “… like I can’t fight.” Her irises locked with his, and for a moment his sorcerous eyes could see into her soul. “Let’s get this over with. You won.
“Now kill me, you fucker.”
Though the fires didn’t quite bridge the gap between them, the sudden brightness and heat caused the woman to recoil, shielding her eyes with her hand. When it dropped, Shang’s grinning face was only a few feet away.
Instantly dropping her rifle, she stepped to the side, narrowly managing to avoid a thrust from the humming plasma weapon. Stepping in, she managed to grab both of his hands, holding the tip of the lightsaber away from her body, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with her opponent. Deftly twirling it into a reverse grip, Shang thrust it backwards back into the brawny marauder, her armor crackling as it passed over and through.
A few protruding segments were instantly sheered away as the two wrestled for control, stepping forward and back and the bullied each other for position. With a snarl, she lifted her foot and slammed it back down on top of his, and an audible crack could be heard. Taking advantage of his temporary distracted, she threw and elbow back, snapping his head backwards.
She pried the deadly saber from his hand and instantly dismissed the blade. “That’s enough of that shit,” she quipped, then flung the small steel tube across the arena, far enough that it bounced off of the unseen wall that surrounded them. She began to turn back to the warrior monk, “Now what were we sayi-“
The woman was interrupted as a long strip of metal punched from her gut, her blood glistening over the tip. She stammered, wide eyed, as she tried reconcile the garble of information that her mind and body were feeding her. “Hrrhk?” was all she could manage staring down at the injury, the tarkatan blade shoved from her lower back out of her abdomen.
There was a strange beauty in the way that the crimson trickled over the gleaming silver, forming sluggish eddies as it ran through the gentle channel down its center, cascading from the tip and into the red-brown soil below. The majesty lasted only a moment however, and the sorcerer tore the weapon back through the path it had come.
It was only through confused instinct that she managed to lift a gauntlet up and block Shang Tsung’s follow up, defending against an attack that would have taken her head from her neck. She staggered forward and quickly fell in an uncontrolled heap onto the ground, the majority of the muscles that allowed her stand having been sliced in two.
Frantically she searched the arena floor, and then slammed her fist entirely through the rifle that lay on the ground beside her. With a crackle, the energy cell ruptured, and the air was filled with an ever-increasing pitched whine.
The soul-stealer leapt into the air for the coup de grace only to be caught mid-air by a blanket of bright-red. The force of the explosion carried him along with it, only releasing him to be flung through the air, his back crashing into the stone pillar of the Black Gate. He fell to the ground limply, but almost immediately began to stir.
In the crater that had been created, there lay the fataly-wounded woman with no name. “Omni damned magical assholes,” she grumbled to herself, the delicate presence of desperation in her whisper. Unchecked tears welled up in the corners of her eyes, the result of her body’s almost instant descent into complete failure. Despite the fact that parts of her were still actively on fire, she rolled to the side and tried to get to her feet. With a willful heave, she was up on her one good leg.
She took a single, shaky step and fell with a cloud of dust. Face down in the dirt, she propped herself on one elbow, but allowed her head to hang, her dreadlocks covering her face. “Fuck…” she whimpered, “I guess it’s really over.” A faint smile crossed her lips, “I guess I did ok. I got pretty far.” He smile grew into a grin, and her grin into a laugh. Soon, she was cackling into the ground, her bloody back heaving up and down with every breath.
She heard the sound of footsteps to the front, but she didn’t bother lifting her head yet. “What are you laughing at?” the sorcerer asked, his voice calm and assured.
Her laughter trailed away, and she let her bleary eyes find his. “I’m sorry.”
The man was taken aback, “What? What do you mean?”
She shook her head softly, “This wasn’t my best you know. I really dropped the ball, man.”
His eyebrow perked, seemingly unimpressed with her confession. “Oh? And what should have I expected?”
The toothy grin returned. “To lose.”
He chuckled and folded his hands in front of himself. “Oh, is that so?” He stepped back and whipped his arms down, the blades that had killed her flashing from his forearms, “Then let us finish this the right way. Fight me.”
The crippled warrior shook her head. “Nah, man. We both know it’s over. I can’t win in this condition.”
A thin smirk glided over his lips, his snake-like eyes narrowing into slits. “And you won’t retain your honor, trying to fight me to the bitter end?”
She laughed to herself, then jerked as a muscle spasm reminded her of the horrible wound she carried. “I figure I’d rather go out my way that kicking and screaming. I’m not trying to make your victory cheap, I’m just tired. I don’t got it in me to put every ounce of piss and vinegar into a fight I already know I’ve lost.”
The Kombatant sighed, and his weapons slid back home. “I see.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I dunno, I was… distracted or something. I didn’t really get to show you everything I’ve got.”
“I’m sure,” he hissed sarcastically, his every movement punctuating his self-confidence.
The woman shifted slightly, then winced heavily, the pain of her injuries suddenly catching up to her. “It’s… it’s ok. Good work.” Her voice had already begun to soften, the pool of blood beneath her spreading in every direction. She blinked, her eyebrows growing heavy in her ashen face. “Alright, I don’t got much time left, I don’t think.”
The monk stared down upon her wordlessly.
“Oh, ok man, c’mon, help me out here.” She beckoned him down, “Help me sit up at least, you fucker.”
Shang Tsung scowled and pursed his lips incredulously, but again said nothing.
“It’s not like…” she faded for a moment, head dropping towards the ground “… like I can’t fight.” Her irises locked with his, and for a moment his sorcerous eyes could see into her soul. “Let’s get this over with. You won.
“Now kill me, you fucker.”