Colosseum - Round 2 - Ms. Marvel vs Shang Tsung

[Storyteller]

Ms. Marvel smiled as she glanced at the Coruscant flag and the various weapons that lay behind her.

Across the battlefield, Shang Tsung scowled at the demonic flag and the hell-themed armory. Him, a villain? What libel.

With a smile, Victor von Magnus struck the gong.

Judge – Caira/Gildarts

Ms. Marvel posts first and may do so at any time after 10 PM CDT.

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&t=4362">viewtopic.php?f=28&t=4362</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

[Ms. Marvel]

“Ms. Marvel?” a woman with ginger hair, adorned in silver chainmail, grunted, as she tapped the shoulder of one, Carol Danvers.

“Yes?” Carol replied without acknowledging the woman, her eyes currently glued to a cell phone that her fingers had methodically been working.

“Uhh, yes, excuse me ma’am, but round two of the tournament is about to begin. If you’ll just follow me, I can take you to the arena.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I was hoping to do some looking around first, but don’t worry about me, I know the way.” Carol, finally attentive, gave the woman a warm smile as she replied.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t do that. They’ve made some changes for round two. I have strict orders. You’ll have to follow me.”

“Oh, I see, well, I don’t really have a choice, do I? Lead the way.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way ma’am.”

***

“Here we are.” The red haired woman spoke as they arrived, “If you’ll just wait on one of these here platforms, the round will begin momentarily.”

“Alright, thank you for your help.”

As the woman took her leave from Marvel, a dark haired man dressed in a yellow attire and equipped with steal weaponry, took her place. He moved with the prime of youth as he stood upon one of the platforms; a cloud of confidence and self-assurance in his strides.

“So, you are to be my opponent?” Carol questioned the new arrival with interest.

“The pleasure is mine.” Responded an overly pleasant voice.

“Humph, we’ll just have to see about that.” Danvers replied, her smarmy attitude getting the best of her, “You know the phrase, ‘Anything you can do—‘”

“I can do better.” Shang interrupted her with a wicked smile present upon his visage.

“No you can’t.” she snapped quickly in response, asserting herself.

“Yes,” the sorcerer responded with a long, drawn out pause, creating finality, “I can.”

An immense stare off, a show down, if you will, took place between the two of them before, suddenly, they shared a laugh in unison, breaking the tension.

“I like you, any chance you’ll just stand aside and let me win?” Carol feigned flirtation.

“Not in the slightest, my dear.” The sorcerer coed, obviously enjoying the innocent banter.

“That’s a shame, I could have took you with me when I left this place.” Danvers actually winked.

“Oh,” Shang began, his response seemingly to weigh heavily on his shoulders, as the words left his lips, “if only you could.”

Marvel studied the man with a close eye for a moment, uncertain if she had missed something. Finally, she repeated, “If only I could?”

However, before she got a response from her opponent, the vary platform she stood upon began to quake. It jittered back and forth for a while, before finally taking to the air, as though it were Captain Marvel itself.

Hovering above a proverbial mind field of, likewise, floating platforms, Ms. Marvel took in her surroundings. The two combatants stood upon platforms of steel, suspended in mid-air. Nothing to catch themselves with, save for some unsavory, slimy, green ichor that polluted the coliseum floors below.

Carol shrugged, it mattered not. She was of Kree genetics. Long since forgotten were the human restrictions of her past, it’d had been decades since she had been empowered with the ability to fly; an ability she would use here and now to her advantage.

The gong sounded, and the space surrounding the female avenger began to distort, as her kree powered energy welled up within her and, like a rocket, she shot out, leaving her platform behind, soaring over the battle field, and headed straight for Shang Sung.

Her fist became enveloped in a hue of golden and electric like properties, as she closed the distance on her opponent, coming ever closer… before falling away.

A heart jolting fear shot up Carol’s spine as Shang Tsung’s image became smaller and smaller, until finally—

*SPLAT*

Ms. Marvel smacked, face first, into the slime covered depths below. The shadow of incapacitation stalking her, and just as her flight had abandoned her, so now, had her consciousness.

Up above, Shang, with predator like eyes, peered down at a now, unconscious and defenseless, Ms. Marvel.

[spoiler]

Well, I'm late, but... I'm here. Sorry for the wait. 707 words. Let me know if I messed up horribly and need to redo anything. >.<

[/spoiler]

[Shang Tsung]

Was this supposed to impress him?

For someone so skilled in the art of banter, the woman had certainly managed to invalidate any sort of threatening undertones from their exchange by plunged head-over-heels into the virtually opaque miasma that lined the floor of the Colosseum. When she made no effort to move, Shang shrugged his shoulders and glanced around for some sort of timekeeper or tournament official.

Unfortunately for the sorcerer, there weren’t any individuals in striped shirts to tell him how he should react to his opponent toppling several stories and smashing her face on the ground. Had he won?

With a shrug, the former monk glanced around, realizing that the people in the nearby sections were scowling at him. They had come to this tournament with the hope of seeing an entire day full of blood and violence, and as they watched from their uncomfortable stone chairs, one of the fights had just seemed to stop dead in its tracks.

If blood is what they want…

Shang turned his focus toward a nearby platform. Much like all the others, it was made of steel and stood glued in midair by unseen forces. Unlike the others, it had a large, twin-barrel turret—a massive gun that could have been stolen from the deck of a twentieth century dreadnought—mounted to it. A small leap took the sorcerer over the gun platform, and with a sigh, he slipped in behind the glistening barrels of the weapon. The controls were by no means complicated. Two heavy handles controlled the aim, and there were bright red buttons for his thumbs. A child could have operated the heavy gun, and the thought of a toddler mowing down rebels brought a faint grin to the man’s face.

Although the controls were easy, the gun itself was probably a little to heavy for a child to manipulate. It twisted and groaned softly as it moved along its horizontal and vertical axes. When he had the smog-shrouded body of his adversary within the targeting reticule, the sorcerer looked up from the gun sights and flashed the crowd a ‘thumbs up.’ He got the reaction he wanted—a cacophony of deafening hoots and hollers that called for blood.

Without looking back down at his target, Shang mashed the pair of red buttons.

There was a warm whoosh of air as the turret belched out a pair of condensed laser bursts from its barrels. Despite shooting energy and lacking any shell casings to eject, the gun still managed to have enough recoil to jar the sorcerer’s shoulders and nearly knock him off balance.

Once he shook off the surprise and the soreness, Shang glanced back through the targeting apparatus. His inability to account for the gun’s kick and his halfhearted grip had caused his shot to miss its mark. Instead of reducing the spandex-clad woman to chunks of gore, the blast had hit the ground a few yards away from her, hurtling her like a ragdoll into the side of a crashed machine. A black crater marred the floor of the arena, and the force of the blast had dispersed a nearly six yard diameter worth of whatever foul chemicals made their home down below. Shang watched for a few moments as the thick cloud slowly started to repair the smoldering wound.

As he leaned over the weapon, the sorcerer smiled as the smell of cordite burned at his nostrils. The Omniverse was a wonderful place. How long had it been since he smelled cordite? The First World War? Honestly, the nearly opaque layer of smog on the floor below and the pretense of so many wrecked vehicles jutting up from the toxins made it look akin to the last days at Passchendale or the Marne. All that was missing was the clatter of machineguns and the screams of men dying over a few square yards of blighted, blood-soaked soil.

Back to business. The sorcerer looked back through the targeting apparatus, and in an instant, he felt the fleeting sensation of joy flush from his system. Much to his surprise, the woman in spandex had regained consciousness.

Despite the initial fall and the laser bombardment-assisted flight into a now dented combat vessel, she seemed to be holding herself together. She lurched forward, clearly favoring muscles that were weakened by toxins and battered by injuries. Even so, she managed to catch her stride, and after a short sprint, she leapt up from the layer of fog.

[Ms. Marvel]

Unnerving agony. A nervous system brought to the brink, under siege. Fire. Carol’s internal alarm systems shrieked, pleading for relief. A relief that never came. Panic, nausea, and lightheadedness befell her, as infectious plumes of toxic sludge, haunted, and tormented her senses, impairing her most fundamental of abilities.

“Damn. Ribs busted. F*cking *sshole.” Carol cursed at Shang’s laser turret aftermath. She coughed and crimson answered. Contempt flavored her tongue, “I suppose assaulting an unconscious woman is just, ‘A-Okay’ in his book. Well, I guess I’ll just have to teach him a thing or tw—”

Hot; blistering hot. Marvel fell ill to scalding temperature as her entire body began to transform before her very eyes. Flesh became riddle with sores and blisters, bubbling and bursting with grotesque magical properties.
Stricken, she felt a very large insect burrow itself into her skull and then proceed to hatch its larva. The clawing and tearing of a migraine, relentlessly assaulting her cerebellum.

Pressing her fingers to her temples, she did her best to abate the searing pain. However, as quickly as it came, the migraine left. In its place a new ailment developed within Carol’s stomach. Hunching forward, she clutched her sides for dear life and gave to the sludge her own contribution.

She gasped, cleaned the vomit from her face, and tried to access her situation. Her body felt as though it might dump her organs through her backdoor at any minute. She had to escape this slimy hell, sooner rather than later. Managing to stand she mustered every ounce of strength from her weakened muscles and took off at a sprint and bounded, just breaking the surface of the smog.

[spoiler]

Sorry... Just... Yea... >.>

[/spoiler]

[Shang Tsung]

Even though she was clearing in pain, the sorcerer’s opponent managed to regain her bearings after taking some time to puke all over her surroundings. For someone who had sauntered into this place like the queen bee, it must have been a terrible humiliation.

Boo. Hoo.

“You shouldn’t fall flat on your face,” Shang replied with a warm smile. “Surely you have more tricks up your sleeve than the ability to knock yourself unconscious, correct?”

“Asshole,” the woman growled as she looked up from the puddle of bile and blood. Aside from the crimson splashes, her chin was dotted with the barely digested flecks of a previous meal.

Before the sorcerer could offer another witty retort, she flung her hands forward, and with a flash of light, beams of energy erupted from each of her palms. Shang growled and dove away as the blasts smashed into the platform, rocking it back and forth as he landed shoulder-first on the other end. By the time he scrambled up to his feet, his opponent had joined him on his platform. Their eyes met for a brief moment before another twin burst of energy crashed against Shang’s chest and threw him from the floating perch.

She’s quick on the draw. The sorcerer mulled over that thought as he twisted his body around and lashed out at the ground below with a telekinetic pulse. While it didn’t spare him much of the agony, the trick gave him a chance to position himself to roll with much of the impact. Unfortunately, the toxic miasma started to have an immediate effect on him as his eyes watered and he felt the familiar taste of bile start to well up in the back of his throat.

Through a fit of coughs, Shang rose to his feet and tried to determine the best means to ascend back to the platform. Before the pieces could start to fall together, a lance of white-hot light screamed down from above and smashed into the rusted fighter craft ten feet from his position.

The resulting death throes of the vessel were vibrant and forceful enough to make everyone in the stands wonder if someone hadn’t stuffed the hull with explosives. Any such musing would have been impossible for the sorcerer, who was thrown twenty yards into the magically blanketed border of the battle zone.

By the time the ringing in his head ceased, Shang was already having difficulty focusing, although he wasn’t sure if that was because of the chemicals in the air or a concussion. With an awkward and lurching gait, he stumbled away from the invisible wall and looked up at the platforms with wild eyes. They seemed to be twice as far away as they had just moments earlier.

It’s just the toxic vapors playing tricks on your mind. Focus.

He knew in his gut that was true, but even so, he felt his muscles getting stiff.

Doesn’t matter. She did it.

Now it was his turn.

Anything she can do…

“I can do better,” Shang coughed as he willed his legs to move forward. Once he managed to work up to a stride, the sorcerer jumped with everything he had. He lacked whatever mojo let her leap condominiums in a single bound, but his vertical was enough to let him grab hold of one of the hooks suspended from a platform. The fresh air flowing into his lungs was all the inspiration he needed to swing forward and grab hold of the platform edge.

Fortunately for the sorcerer, the effects of whatever toxins littered the floor of the arena did seem to dissipate quickly as he shook some feeling into his extremities and tried to find where the woman had concealed herself.

“Miss me?”

Instead of turning toward her voice, Shang simply ran away from it and dove to a nearby platform. He landed on the next elevated stage and spun around to watch as the woman came charged through the smoke left behind from her previous attack. Her entire body seemed to glow with yellow energy as she lunged toward him, her shimmering hands moving forward to release another punishing blast of light and heat.

Shang scowled and threw out his own hand, releasing a screaming skull forged in flame. When the attacks met, there was a brilliant flash of orange and light before both combatants were hit by the concussive wave that flowed out from the blast.

[Ms. Marvel]

Boom. A cacophony of deafening explosions thundered throughout the arena, as marvelous, proton energy clashed with the menacing, flame engulfed skull, compliments of Shang Tsung. In its wake, a myriad of color blotted out the day’s sky, casting a variegated hue of light upon, an enamored, crowd of Camelot patrons, while the robust and sweeping, stone ramparts of the colosseum trembled; the results of Dalaran’s protective wards, spells, and enchantments waning under exertion.

Once the smoke settled, the two combatants were standing, ushering in a joyous, bloodthirsty roar from the crowd. This fight wasn’t over, not by a long shot.

“Well, they’re happy.” Ms. Marvel broke the tension, removing bits of sludge from her attire, she hadn’t previously noticed. Holding the ichor, a wave of uncomfortable illness washed over her, causing Carol to arch an eyebrow in response, “So, you want to see what kind of tricks I have up my sleeves?”

The sorcerer answered with a wave of his arm, a gesture for her to begin her assault, “After you.”

Bright gilded flames of pure energy enveloped Ms. Marvel’s form, as radiant, blistering hot, white light amassed into her palms, and discharged two violent beams of ill intent. Under scrutiny, Shang’s reflexes failed to disappoint, and pole-vaulted the sorcerer out of harm’s way, abandoning one platform for another. Taking to a roll, he found his feet just in time to avoid another golden beam of destruction, courtesy of the avenger.

Annoyed, flustered, and frustrated, the sorcerer turned on his opponent, and summoned forth vigor from within the pool of souls he had condemned, unleashing a breath of Draconian flame; a flame that tore the very air with its potent rage, however, found its target, it did not.

To the right. Or on his left. Up and down, the sorcerer looked all around, but he found nothing. Not a sunflower colored lock of hair anywhere. Shang relaxed his posture and allowed a slight chuckle to escape his diagram, “Hiding are we? You must know, it will do you little good.”

The sorcerer strolled across the platform, over to the edge, and leaned over, spotting the golden locks of his opponent immediately, “You can’t hide from me and I grow tired of your games.”

“Who said anything about hiding?” as the words left her lips, a bombardment of golden energy erupted, blasting its way through the underbelly of the platform, piercing rock, stone, and the flesh of Shang Tsung.

With no more platform to hold onto, Ms Marvel, accompanied by a surprised and distraught Shang Tsung, plummeted to the hazardous, toxic colosseum floor below. Marvel, quick with Kree enhanced reflexes, landed at a tumble, transferring the impact, and taking little damage. Shang, on the other hand, hit the floor with a sickening thud, and a lot less grace, several yards away.

Ms. Marvel sank her hips, took a deep breath, and unleashed every bit of athleticism her legs could muster, bounding the colosseum heights like a rocket, and escaping the putrid and infectious toxins of below. At the height of her vertical, she had passed all the available platforms, leaving only an abandoned TIE fighter ship for her to grasp out at; she climbed.

She was safe, but for how long? To be honest, in her experience, this game was all about confidence. It always was. No matter what mutant, super powered, god like foes she encountered, the good ones… the ones worth their salt…. they always had that, one common trait, one common denominator, and Shang Tsung… he had it. She would crush this opponent, she wouldn’t allow him vantage; she couldn’t afford to.


Standing upon the right wing of the TIE fighter ship, the space surrounding Ms. Marvel drank in her righteous intent, casting a radiant glow of gold, as her hands spoke the language of the Kree, summoning forth a volley of devastation upon everything below.

The crackle of energy boomed, devouring the platforms with one explosion after the next, however, with each discharge, visible symptoms of fatigue befell the avenger, until finally, she could ‘Marvel’ no more. She didn’t know if she had destroyed all of the platforms, as she’d intended, but it matter not.

She slipped the hatch, armed the weapons system, and piloted the TIE Fighter ship free from its suspended position. She hunted for Shang Tsung, littering the field with powerful beams of red laser. You could take the girl out of the Airforce, but you couldn’t take the Airforce out of the girl!

[spoiler]

Hey, what'd'ya'know, I made this one on time. A minute to spare even, haha. Anyway, I used Shangs Flame breath thing and my own Marvelous energy, of course. 750, on the word.

[/spoiler]

[Shang Tsung]

He was burned, battered, and bloodied, but Shang Tsung still had enough left in his tank to drag himself up off the disease-infested soil of the stadium. All around him, lances of red energy bombarded the ground, tearing up clumps of dirt and stone as the woman in the spaceship sought out the fallen sorcerer. Amidst the haze of the burning platforms and the smoldering heaps of steel that now littered the battle zone, Shang concealed himself.

Whatever toxic vapors filled the area burned at his exposes orifices, but the constant smog and blasts worked in his favor, at least for the moment. With most of the platforms up above blown to smoldering pieces, the only option that remained was the other ship frozen high in the sky over his head. Unfortunately, he’d have to find some way to get around the blonde bitch with the laser obsession.

Need a plan. The sorcerer squinted through the haze of smoke and toxins. Ten yards away, he spied what seemed to be a long length of cable from one of the shattered machines that littered the ground. Better be enough.

Once more willing his body into action, Shang scrambled up to a vertical position as lasers stitched their way across the ground toward him. He stole a quick gaze up ahead at what remained of one of the armory stands. While most of it was gone, there was enough jutting out that his plan could work.

As his legs rushed him forward, the sorcerer threw out a hand and willed the nearby cable into his frantic grasp. Once he had it clenched in his dirty fist, he gave it a solid yank, liberating it from the wreckage. A beat later, he swung it out in front of him, wrapping it around part of the armory stand. Behind him, bolts of laser fire grew closer, nipping at his ankles from close enough away to heat his flesh. Before the assault could reach him, he lunged from the ground with everything he had left, his body swinging with the arc of the anchored cable. As the ground behind him erupted upward into a fount of dirt and stone, he was in the air, his lithe form slung upward behind the tension of the cable.

In a few heartbeats, the cable carried him up into the air above where the platforms had once been. Before long, a blaze of red bolts tore through his lifeline, and instead of gracefully swinging up, Shang started to drop. His eyes caught another free-floating fragment of scorched steel, and his fingers desperately grabbed at the hot, jagged metal. Before his brain had time to react to the pain, he had pulled himself up onto the once-living platform and jumped up toward the remaining vessel.

Perhaps it was adrenaline.

Perhaps it was just some dumb luck.

Either way, Shang Tsung managed to slip into the cockpit of the strange, cramped fight with solar heating panels for wings. The engines roared to life after he raked his blood-stained palms against a series of buttons, and with a lurch, the future-tech fighter jet dropped from its stasis as energy beams scorched the air around it.

The initial shock of still being alive quickly subsided as small klaxons screamed inside the tiny space, warning Shang that he needed to avert his current trajectory. With the joysticks to his sides the only things he hadn’t already smacked or mashed, the sorcerer clutched them both and yanked back on them. Although there was a brief and terrible stuttering from the engines, the ship pulled up out of its suicide dive just a handful of meters above the floor of the Colosseum.

As he pulled up to gain more altitude, there were additional warnings all around the view screen. Whoever she was, the woman was more qualified to pilot spaceships, and since he hadn’t eaten a pilot in years, he knew this was a fight he couldn’t win. In the few seconds it had taken him to veer the ship back up, the woman had already pulled in line behind him. She would need just a few more seconds to punch his fighter full of burning-red holes.

A man of learning and finesse, Shang Tsung opted for the uncouth and unorthodox response to a more skilled opponent stalking him. He took his bloody fist and punched the red button that lay off to the side of the control panel.

The ‘Eject’ button.

[Shang Tsung]

The sorcerer hit the ground with enough force to pop his shoulder out of its socket with an audible pop! Even so, he clamped down the scream welling up in his throat and rolled over to watch a brilliant flash of golden photons blast through the roof of the bottom TIE fighter just before the two collided.

Clever girl.

A weak smile spread across Shang’s visage as he struggled up to a standing position. The translucent vapors were already choking at his throat and eyes, but he was beyond caring at this point. Even as shards of twisted metal and little fireballs rained down from the sky, his eyes remained glued to the trembling woman as she likewise rose up to a standing position.

Of the two of them, she was worse for wear. Her proximity to the explosion had peppered her with flames and shrapnel, so much so that her spandex was imbedded in a few places with beads of blackened metal. In other places, her spandex costume seemed almost melted to her formerly pristine flesh. Her hair, formerly a beautiful shade of blonde, was blackened and bloodstained from a shard of metal scraping away a part of her scalp. Despite all the agony she must have been in, the woman managed to wink before holding up a hand and shooting a concentrated pulse of energy at the sorcerer.

With a growl, Shang threw himself back toward the ground. In the moment before he scrambled back to his feet, he caught a glimpse of a cache of weapons resting on the ground about ten yards away. The box of fancy, future-tech weaponry had fallen from one of the armory stands during the woman’s orbital bombardment.

“Lost a little spring in your step?” The spandex-clad blonde rasped as she launched another bolt of energy toward her foe. This time Shang was a little more prepared, and he was able to less awkwardly dodge away from the attack as its owner, now wielding a jagged piece of steel as a cudgel, jogged toward him.

Reaching out a hand, Shang telekinetically summoned a small black handle from the crate. The metal cylinder jiggled once before shooting into his eager hand. As the woman closed in to deliver a fatal blow, Shang held out the device and smashed down on the only button he could see. While he had expected it to be a gun of some sort, he wasn’t disappointed when a cylindrical blade of red energy erupted outward with a sizzling crackle and plunged through the woman’s right lung.

The blonde’s eyes went wide as they fell to the scintillating blade through her chest. Her makeshift cudgel dropped to the ground as her knees buckled underneath her. Shang clicked off the energy sword and watched as his adversary crumpled into a heap on the ground. Even as it grew harder to breath, she tried to lift a hand to attack him.

With a scowl, Shang took a step forward and stomped the woman’s hand into the ground. He dropped into a crouch and leaned in close enough that she could feel his breath on her ear. “Your soul is mine.” A beat later, he smashed his elbow into the side of her skull and rose back into a standing position.

After lifting a fist to celebrate with the crowd, he went about the claiming of his prize as the life drained from his opponent's eyes.