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Brooke braced herself for the impact, smashing into the wall and sliding down, hitting the ground with her hands to reduce the mass of the force. Twisting herself around she hopped back onto her feet and looked up, smiling. With the back of her hand she wiped her face to free it of the droplets of blood coursing down the side of her cheek from the gash that appeared on her forehead. One of her legs was held out at an odd angle and she winced when she took a step forewords. Through the excruciating pain she continued to grin and forced herself to stand straight, hands out to her sides. With a soft and gentle humming sound her body was engulfed in a blinding light, causing those nearby to shield their eyes to avoid it. When the brightness cleared, the Brooke that stood there was completely different then the one from moments before. She now stood at least a foot taller; her once waist-length auburn hair now hanging at her shoulders, died a rich silver and gray. No longer did she wear a long white cotton dress, but black leather pants accessorized by two large double buckle belts. Her shirt, a large baggy one had the imprint of a devilish-looking cartoon that gleamed with mischief. Dangling from her ears, twin skulls, the same as those that surrounded her neck and wrists. When she glanced at Cloud, no longer did he see child’s eyes that brimmed with curiosity at every little thing, but ones died crimson of blood and filled with hate. When she spoke, it was a voice dark and something malevolence, dripping with toxin. "We begin the real fight, Daddy."

Brooke’s gaze remained steady as she looked upon her father’s transformation, unfazed. She shook her head pulled her hair back from her face with one hand, letting it fall back into place to conceal half. This wasn’t the first time she had witnessed the change in a person so as to resemble a lizard, and she knew what Cloud was now capable of. However, she was ready, she had been ready, and she would show him.
In the blur of a single sweep she feinted left and came at him with a round kick, doubling back and twisting to hit him again with her opposite foot. She was incredibly fast and performing a slurred back flips landed several feet away, dusting her sleeve off and cracking her neck twice to rid it of the compressed vertebrate. As quickly as she had come she was gone again, seeming to melt into the earth like a shadow. The ground rumbled more and a blazing pillar of flames shot upwards from its depth, circling Cloud in intense heat strong enough to burn through the thickest of metals and armor, though in this case, scales.

Brooke's eyes went white as each kick and hit he threw at her hit its mark squarely. Spitting up crimson blood she hacked for breath, dropping down to her knees, body broken in many places. The pain was blinding her, and her head felt as if it would break down the center and split in two. The pain was intolerable, it was destroying her, she was dieing so slowly. Her mouth was bitter with the taste of her own blood and she struggled to sit up on one knee when the flames came. They ran up her sides, easily burning away the leather, the cloth, and her hair. The mess was concealed within the flames, but her ear-piercing scream reached out like the cry of a banshee. Her eyes exploded in a mess of blood as layer upon layer of skin was peeled away until all that was left was a pile of ash and a broken skeleton...

She giggled, and it was the same laugh that had stolen the heart of her father the first time she met him. She had her younger voice back, but the brittle bones shattered into dust. "You are very perceptive, and you are also correct in assuming that I live." Her elder form's remains glowed dark briefly and she stepped forth from them, brushing away soot and ash from her dress. Smiling at her father she inclined her head, "I congratulate you in defeating one of my 'dolls'. Though, you of course know that in truth, they are nothing compared to my true power. Even I do not know of my full potentials. I first realized I could create copies of myself nearly three months ago, two weeks before I came to the Tavern and met you and Kassie. Now, if you excuse me...I think...I think I'll take a little nap." Brooke smiled and her eyes closed as she started to fall, her energy completely drained.

*he happily stolls into the grounds and looks around at all the wreckage from previous fights. He sighs* Why bother cleaning it all up when you can add to it? *he kicks the ground and a pond of water grows outward from the spot. He falls in and swims to the edge* All this floating and stuff is boring. How about a little plain old swimming? *he jumps in*

*he takes out his dagger as the tornado shifts into a position that is about to swallow him up* Earth Splitter! *he stabs his dagger into the ground and creates a large chasm that drags the tornado into it. Unfortunately, he too falls in* Aaaaahhh! *as a desperate attept he stabs the blade into the edge of the chasm and pulls himself up*
... *sigh* I really need to work on my earth elementals... sweatdrop

I, will fight you. *gets into fighting stance; pulls out katana*

*A rude little red fox appears on the edge of the grounds. He starts pounding on the ground, shifting dirt, removing stone. Presently a patch of level ground lays at his feet and he inspects it with a critical eye. Picking up stones he seeks out and finds many to his liking. These he plants into the ground to form a 30 foot circle. Again he inspects. A fire is raised. Piles of heavy timber is feed to the flame untill a large mound of charcoal stands in the blaze. The fire dies and cools. Raising himself, the fox carrys the ash to the circle and spreads it to the height of the stone. Pounding begins again, spreading, pounding............ Eventually he stands beside a raised circle of firm ground. Pleased. He reaches into his backpack and produces a series of weapons. A dozen swords, short, sharp and sturdy. Twenty knives of design varied and sharp as a harpy's tongue. Quaterstaffs, long and solid. Single sticks, in their pairs dispite the name. And the morningstars, spiked balls of pain and death. He arranges them along a log and covers them with a tarp. He waits.*