[BATT] Battle Royale Round 3 (Pyruet vs Aprife vs Zeffer )

[saedusk]

Before there was even a moment to think, both hands shot up to his neck defensively, wanting to peel away the sweater that now made it hard to breathe. It was the most significant movement his right arm had made since the shot at the beginning and it hurt, sending small, pulsing pains down that arm and up his neck. Whatever she was starting to say, it was sort of difficult to hear, especially once the real blow came crashing into his back. A fit of short, uncomfortable coughs shook his frame until she finally let go. Unable to keep balance, he stumbled forward, reacting instinctively again and sending both his arms out to catch his fall. The right one finally rejected all the new, sudden movements and gave out. He collapsed sideways. Digging his shoulder into the ground, he was able to awkwardly, push himself to a sit almost as quickly as he had fallen. It was too dangerous to stay down, even if the lightheadedness made him wish he could crawl into his recuperacoon and sleep.

"Aren't you… my enemy now anyway?" The loud level of his usual voice had dwindled down to what one would probably consider a normal volume. "Even if I had been on your side it wouldn't matter." He found himself laughing again, but it came out more like puffs of air and coughing as he scraped to his knees and rounded on her. Not a lot often bothered Aprife, it was hard to get under his skin. But the aching and exhaustion was making him irritable and it was about time for this getting knocked around while pointlessly lectured to stop. The yellowblood had it in his head to bring her down from her high hoofbeast and onto his level. Rather literally, though.

As he turned, he also flipped the whip again the way he did to attack Zeffer earlier. The hard handle would work much better for what he had planned. All he could do now was hope the blow would be enough to disrupt her ability to move at least a little bit. Otherwise, the advantage of speed he usually had might be gone. He wasn't completely sure running would be so easy anymore. Gripping the scourge tightly, he swung and smacked her ankle with as much force as he could muster.

7/20  

[Sugi Kawakita]

Pyruet's eyes widened momentarily as Aprife's arm gave out. She didn't expect him to be in such bad shape, with the way he was practically laughing barely a minute ago. Maybe she was better off than she'd thought; until she'd caught him, he'd seemed mostly unphased. Which made sense, really, aside from that bullet he'd leapt in front of, he'd only been hit once.

Her eyes dilated again, eyebrows knitting together, corners of her mouth drooping as Aprife spoke, "offended" written across her every feature. The boy was an imbecile...and he was kind of laughing, if that's what that was supposed to be. The dunce was laughing like she'd said something so intrinsically stupid that it had become amusing. "...I'm not referring to now, specifically. In general. Irresolution is a flaw." She'd spoken slowly, incredulity creeping into her voice. "And it's the principle of the thing anyway, how slow can you POSSIBLY get."

No sooner had she gotten the mental insult fully formed than her left ankle exploded, or damned sure felt like it. Her tailbone hit the concrete for the second time that night, a sharp gasp forcing its way out of her throat, a hissing gurgle right on its heels. Pain shooting up her spine, her maimed ankle practically burning, she squeezed her eyes shut, and realized just how sore she was.

Pyre was fairly experienced in combat for her age, but there are only so many times you can punch someone in one night before it starts wearing on you. Her right arm ached, her elbow especially so. Her left still felt off from where Zeffer had lit her up, her spine was throbbing, and she felt like her left leg would barely be able to support her after that hit. If nothing else, there was going to be a damned impressive bruise covering her ankle within the next few minutes.

She snapped her eyes open, drew her right knee to her chest, and kicked at Aprife. She didn't know or care where she was aiming, she just needed to land a hit, keep him occupied while she tried to recover.

3/20  

[saedusk]

No more. As she went down after his attack, he decided then that he was done trying to change her mind, especially since the more he thought about it, the more his head started to hurt and his mood worsened. With her on the ground, it didn't look like she would really care to hear anything else he had to say, anyway. Huffing, he forced a foot underneath him to try and stand back up. This time he would be the one above her level. It was probably fairly foolish to start getting cocky already. Aprife saw her winding up for an attack before he could even get the second knee off the ground. All he could think to do in that split second was shift his body. Move so that when she connected, and he knew she would, she couldn't get a hit on his good arm, the only thing he had left to fight with.

Pyruet's foot connected squarely against his upper right arm. The pain of getting hit again in that same arm after all of its struggling was worse than he hoped. The foot propped underneath him slipped out and he fell back down, landing sideways on the ground right next to her injured leg. If he had been in a more humorous mood, he would have made some quip about being sorry for accidentally bumping her on the way down. Instead, the best he could do was react as immediately as possible. He didn't want to give her time to get up and hit him again. That kick may not have been the strongest thing he'd felt from her all day, but there was still an obvious force behind he that he couldn't hope to compete with physically.

Reaching out, he grabbed her left foot and tugged. It wasn't much of an attack, it might have even been a bit dirty, but at that point who even cared? All he wanted to do was irritate her injured ankle more. Make her hurt so she couldn't think enough to retaliate. After giving it that quick yank, he scrambled, kicking against the ground to put some sort of distance between them. The yellowblood didn't get far before trying to hurry to his feet again.

4/20  

[Sugi Kawakita]

Her vision went black for a moment. Holy God, her ankle felt like it was exploding all over again. Spots still swam in her vision as her eyes decided to work again, and her furious glare met Aprife's scrambling figure. He pulls some underhanded move like that and then retreats with his tail between his legs? No, hell no. Pyre had no idea how a coward like him had made it this far, but she was putting an end to his winning streak.

Wrath and adrenaline mostly masking her pain, she shoved off from the ground with her arms, rolling forward onto her good foot, and sprung towards him. Her landing was less than graceful--actually it was kinda awkward, it took her a moment to regain her balance--but it got her close enough to backhand the hell out of the yellowblood, which she proceeded to do with gusto.

What didn't occur to her were the results of the last time a troll dressed in uniform had backhanded their opponent. But why would that be on her mind? She was fine, in much better condition than Sempur! Sure, she probably couldn't put any weight on that ankle just yet, and fatigue was setting in, but she was totally fine.

Totally.

1/20  

[saedusk]

He could see her coming. In that awkward, stumbling way, she was still threatening. That look on her face was worse than any of the ones he had received the entire fight and he was by no means short on upset-Pyruet-looks. Before he could turn to get away, he felt the sting of her hand against his cheek. Aprife had thought she was almost down. That backhand didn't quite agree. Maybe he was just exhausted, but the pain was spreading across his cheek, making his nose, still sore from the first battle, throb. Not to mention it was now too much work to try and keep his one eye open and there were a couple cuts on his lip that were starting to leak yellow.

"Get away from me!" Everything came out in one burst. All the energy and adrenaline he had left. Quickly, he flipped his scourge back over to its proper position and flung it back. This was it. If he didn't end it now, he would be down for the count. And even… even if he did end it, he was pretty sure he would end up passed out on the ground anyway.

He swung the whip a lot this time, a lot more than he usually did, at any part of Pyruet that he could catch. His left arm was shaking with the effort and the strain of tiredness. When he finally stopped, his breathing was heavy and his arm dropped to his side like a dead weight.

1/20  

[Sugi Kawakita]

The first swing caught her across her snarling face.

Pyruet froze, stunned by the sudden counterattack. As the boy lashed out again, an arm instinctively covered her eyes from the blow. She could feel blood running down her cheek--the scourge had cut her right next to her eyebrow with that first strike. Two or three more lashes connected before her mind started functioning again. A hand shot out to grab at Aprife, only to jerk back as it was thrashed, the skin on the back of her hand welting and tearing.

She recoiled, both arms shielding her face. She couldn't even retaliate, his assault was relentless, her sides and arms being buffeted as she tried to shrink even further back, tried to make herself as small a target as possible.

When it finally ended, she held her position for several seconds, arms still covering her face, trembling from the thrashing she'd taken. She slowly lowered her arms, her expression displaying shock more than anything, and collapsed onto her back. She was through. She knew her limits; she might be able to get up in a minute and try to continue, but she couldn't even stand properly, much less fight with her skin feeling like this. It was like her entire upper body was on fire, her arms flayed to hell and back.

She lay there, perfectly still aside from the whole shaking part, as the disappointment set in. She'd lost to the cowardly kid. She'd been close, but close didn't mean a damned thing. She may have made a name for herself, but it wasn't, "Pyruet Tropos, that young girl who beat down every troll that got in her way." She was, "Pyruet Tropos, that one troll who lost in the last round." She heavily doubted she'd gained any fame in the eyes of anyone who mattered.

She slowly raised a hand in a sign of forfeit, still lying on her back. "I'm done." she called out, probably not loud enough for anyone to hear over the crowd, but she supposed it didn't too much matter. She slowly pulled herself up to a sitting position, then with even more difficulty, a crouch. She stood up, exhaled deeply, and paused. She turned towards the winner, her superior as far as the tournament went, and nodded, voicing a sincere but quiet, "Congratulations."

Without waiting for or expecting a response, she turned toward the exit of the arena, trying to walk as firmly and authoritatively as she'd entered, flinching visibly every time she stood on her left leg. She ran her fingers through her hair once, confirming it wasn't too terribly disheveled, and wiped at the cut near her eye with a sleeve. She needed to visit the medical drones before she left, needed to see if they had anything to wrap her ankle with. She didn't feel like catching a train tonight, and it was a long walk home.

At least she'd gotten to trash that ******** Sempur Livora while she was here.


0/20  

[amicableAggressor]

The cheering had never stopped. It had ebbed and swelled like waves on a beach, surrounding the ring, sometime growing quieter as the stands held their collective breath for a moment, but it was always on the edge of hearing. Due to some strange (or planned) architectural trick however, it never really penetrated the centre of the arena, instead forming a dome of sound around it. Now however, as the spectators turned to the royal box to hear the proclamation of the winner, it faltered. Their royal mc was nowhere to be seen, and for one moment the stands seemed to rock, as though without the presence of their leader they might explode into a riot. The energy was there, even though most of the spectators had spent the day screaming till their faces took on a faint tinge of colour.

"Congratulations!"

Hundreds of heads snapped downwards, to the figure emerging onto the arena floor. As the queen strode out towards Aprife, microphone still in one hand, her short stature suddenly became apparent. While her personality made her seem towering, as she drew up to the exhausted troll, her head barely passed his shoulders. Reaching up, eyes glittering, she slapped him heartily on the shoulder, as if the boy wasn't barely standing. Then grabbing his empty hand and lifted it up in the air between them, she turned to face the audience.

"You've heard me call his name countless times this evening! Yet, ladies and gentlemen, again, for the final time! Let me introduce to you Aprife Invasi, the champion! Our champion! Give him the applause of your life, and remember this day, 'cause I have a feeling ladies and gentlemen that this is not the last time you will see his face! I have a feeling, and you can trust my feelings, that this troll is going to go farther than anyone would suspect from looking at him, no offence."

Winking at Aprife, she twirled the microphone theatrically and continued, her strong grip keeping his hand firmly in the air.

"This troll, and every troll who stepped forward today, each and every one of them who said to his or herself that they were not afraid to fight, not afraid to plunge into combat with an unknown opponent, not afraid to stand and test their strength in the arena! They have all come from across Alternia to gather here today, and I ask you to remember them all! Minist Outill, Frossa Fyrste, Mutuna Essoan, Sarcel Cincil, Opimus Fellah, Abrila Variga, Sempur Livora, Zeffer Siroco, Pyruet Tropos and Aprife Invasi! And finally, ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to return here tomorrow night, because there is one more bit of entertainment for all of you. And if I were you, I wouldn't miss it for the world!"  

[saedusk]

Words. Forming words was hard. Pyruet's proud retreat was watched silently, if only because the yellowblood was too tired to even bother making a sarcastic quip about the way she couldn't quite downplay that ankle injury. Besides, even if it had been sort of hard to hear, her sincere congratulations had knocked a bit of the irritability and fear out of him. Perhaps she was a good sport after all. It didn't mean he much liked her, their first meeting having left a pretty sour taste in his mouth--or maybe that was just the blood. Still, he wasn't passed out on the ground, so there was a rising feeling of comfort in his gut.

Okay, nevermind. That rising feeling might have been something else, too. Shutting his eyes, he swooned for a moment. Just gotta sit down for a minute, he told himself. That's when the queen's voice hit him in the face much closer than he expected it to. Eyes snapped open just in time to almost mentally prepare himself for the highblood's hearty congratulations. Falling over seemed like a fairly bad idea now, throwing up too, since the queen was prooobably close enough to get caught in the backlash. Aprife held in a groan as he forced his jelly legs to keep him upright. Immediately after he had to bite back another, grimacing as his injured shoulder was twisted in movement and his arm held in the air. He didn't struggle against it, though his muscles whined, but he likely wasn't offering much help in keeping it up there, either.

Between thoughts of 'keep standing, don't fall' and 'wow, I'm tired as ********,' Aprife couldn't help but feel some sort of twinge of pride. It wasn't something he particularly expected, he hadn't entered this little tournament to gain recognition. Not to mention the only time he really cared about the hemospectrum was when he was trying not to get in trouble. Still, not everyone could say they stood this close to the queen and got some sort of roundabout compliment at the same time. He gave her the best smile he could really muster at the time and even almost chuckled at her humor. It just kind of got stuck in his throat. For multiple reasons.

Lifting his gaze to the crowd, he zoned in and out on the rest of her speech. This had been an… interesting experience to say the least.