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A bye?

Deitric grunted, zipping up the front of his leather jacket slowly. Once finished, the warrior dusted his hands together and stepped out into the light. The crowd cheered at the victor's appearance, hoping to see a real fight this round. Deitric moved forward with a nod, and the nearby mage cast his spell. After a moment, the warrior stepped forward and up, suddenly walking on air. Coins clinked together as he tossed the magister a few gold pieces before making his way out into the open air of the arena, raising an arm to the crowd.

Without a word, he began his descent, and soon touched down on the platform as the spell wore off, leaving him just as he was for the real part of the day - the fighting.

"Time's wasting.."

Deitric watched on impassively, keeping his hands at his sides, resting idly just beneath the axe-heads of his tomahawks. Standing at well about six-three, and and most likely the heaviest human combatant here, the red-skinned warrior looked deceptively small for his weight. In truth, while he retained almost the same look as he had in his first showing during the Heaven or Hell tournament, he had actually built up to an impressive two hundred and fifty-two pound weight, but his build and choice of clothing hid it well - he only looked to be around two twenty or so.

"That's right. And you're Akechi - though, I can't say I know any of your call-signs, I've yet to see you fight," Deitric offered politely. He wasn't taking the piss; it was the truth, he'd yet to see his opponent in a match, and only knew him by name and nothing else.

With a flicker of movement, Deitric drew both of his tomahawks free from the belt, giving each one a deft whirl in his hands.

"Whenever you're ready."

The black haired tribesman remained like a statue when Akechi began his charge; remaining motionless and calm. As the man drew closer, subtle shifts took change in the warrior's stance, suggesting that he was getting ready, his weapons up to bear and his legs wider.

Clink--

The right tomahawk flashed to life in Deitric's hand, slapping the on-coming knife away while the warrior lurched backwards suddenly, throwing his weight back and down as he back-pedaled once and lowered his stance abruptly. With his opponent's weight on the same side as his own, the fighter's sudden motion towards the water's edge combined with his own weight and push would bring the far end of the platform up with a groan of protest.

Of course, that also meant trouble for his opponent - suddenly, he wasn't running on flat land anymore, now he was going to be running on a decline, and in a forward charge that meant he was likely to lose control at the abrupt change in the angle of his movements. That was exactly what Deitric was aiming for - to force his opponent to stumble and lose some of his control as the man was only a handful of feet away; hopefully too close to viably pull out of the charge as his inexorable momentum would pull him down the slope that was making it all too easy for him to lose control.

Both of the his weapons were still up, held in a loose, ready stance - he had pulled one trick card from his sleeve, but it took more than one card to win a hand. What else did he have planned for his former teammate's ally?

Deitric grinned, electricity cackling to life between his teeth as he kept his low position, his booted feet unbudging, keeping him solidly placed on the platform even as it shifted. Water sloshed over his boots and the current carried into the pool. When Akechi fell to his back and caught himself with the hammer, he was still eight or nine feet away - and the man was almost six feet in height, not to mention a stretched arm and the length of the claw hammer. But that'd matter later.

He hurled his both tomahawks as the mercenary came to a halt. One was aimed for the shoulder/armpit of the outstretched arm, while the second was spinning towards the man's free arm, aiming to cut away his ability to fight back and end the fight early. But that wasn't enough of an insurance measure.

The warrior was already shifting as he threw; years of training and usage made it more than easy enough for him to move in just about any manner while throwing. His stance lowered even further as both his arms came down from the double throw of the 'hawks, reaching down to grab a-hold of the leg nearest to him in a lightning fast flash of his arms - it didn't matter which it actually was. He was going to grab at the ankle or calf, and resort to grabbing cloth if he had to to get what he needed done. The cackling storm that had boomed to life around him would come in use - repeated, constant shocking would hopefully make it hard to react to Deitric's sudden grab for the offending leg.

Assuming the red-skinned fighter managed to grab a hold of the leg, he'd merely twist his body and fall back into the water. It didn't look like much, but it held a lot of potential-- with the twist and fall, Akechi's leg would most likely be snapped at the knee, ankle, or even shin by the hard edge of the platform if the entirety of the move was completed. If he lost his grip on the claw hammer, he'd be following Deitric into the water - an almost sure-shot way to lose.

The Khasmin tribesman kept his chin tucked in during the move - he didn't want to get kicked in the teeth, and he kept his shoulders hunched to help guard him from the second foot. He would probably take a bit of a beating, but nothing came without sacrifice in Gaia.

Deitric wasn't escaping - he'd grabbed the leg for a reason. As soon as he grabbed it, he'd made a corkscrew drop right off the ledge, meaning both of Akechi's legs would have been twisted side-ways, with the outside of the knee touching the platform.

POSSIBILITY ONE

Deitric's positioning had been low, but he hadn't been laying down - more like a two or three point football stance. All he'd done is dropped his weight off the side with a twist of his body once he had a grip - Akechi might end up slamming the heel of his boot into Deitric's shoulder, neck, or even head, but chances were, he was suffering from a snapped leg in one part of his lower leg. Deitric would be somewhere in the water, having released Akechi's leg once broken.

POSSIBILITY TWO

If the leg some-how hadn't broke, or even if he'd managed to get the double leg lock on him while the warrior was falling into the water (thus somehow holding Deitric's entire weight while he was in the water), then the red-skinned fighter would have used his arms to simply push himself out of the leg lock (having already had both hands on one leg, making it pretty easy to open said lock), while disappearing into the water, both weapons splashing futilely at where he'd been moments before. He'd be somewhere in the water then, possibly under the platform, but at the most, unseen.

POSSIBILITY THREE

Akechi succeeded in the leg-lock, but because the claw was unhooked from the platform and Deitric was still dropping off the edge of the bouyous platform, it meant that both attacks would be unsuccessful - both his leg break, and Akechi's attack would both fail, and both would slide into the watery depths. But that would mean only trouble for Akechi - Deitric's powerhouse charge would be unescapable, and the water would be a perfect medium for him to attack from any distance he pleased.

[What if posts ftl razz . I normally don't make 'em, but I'm in a hurry and my MSN is wonky sometimes.]

The flashlight hit home, but not where Akechi was expecting. The warrior had kept his head low, chin tucked, and his shoulders hunched. The flashlight clipped his right shoulder and the side of his forehead with a dull pound of pain, splitting the skin open without doing any real damage. The bit of blood that came from it tinged the water around it pink, though no one could see it.


Bzzt~!

Deitric was already submerged, and he kept his eyes open and head down, so the constant jabbing only did so much - he didn't need air, and at this point he was just getting slammed in the forehead and top of the head with the rim of the flashlight's light source. His plan hadn't gone quite as intended, but it did leave him in a good position, one that Akechi was probably going to regret, and most likely never realize until it was already happening.


Bzzt~!

While the psion was scrabbling for purchase on the edge of the arena, himself most likely half submerged and dealing with the cackling power that Deitric radiated, the tribesman quickly took advantage of his 'floating' position while Akechi was kicking with his free leg - he caught Deitric a few times, but the water kept it from being too bad, and he still had the man's leg.

Bzzt~!

The fighter ignored Akechi's thrashing as he pushed himself upwards - but not with his legs. The water roiled and thrashed around him like a thing possessed as the warrior suddenly burst upward from the waters, still holding onto the psionic warrior's leg. Electric power surged around him in the shape of twin wings. However, neither wings would be easy to make out, except in maybe slow motion; because Deitric was spinning like a raging cyclone, and he was taking Akechi along for the ride.

"Hrwaah!"

Taking two of his rarely used techniques and putting them together, the red-skinned man had combined his Eagle's Dance and Hawk's Flight - instead of merely flying or spinning, he was doing both. Deitric had quite literally taken flight in possibly the most violent way possible. His form was a-blur from the rotation of his body, and he was flying upwards, several meters above the platform itself.

Normally, this display of physical and electric prowess would only be just that - a display, something the crowd would cheer at seeing. He wasn't punching anyone, and thus there wasn't a direct "target." But, there was something else - Akechi, stuck in Deitric's shocking, vice-like grip. The expenditure of energy would be well worth it. At least, the crowd probably reckoned so.

He would have started spinning when the be-leathered warrior did, while he was still submerged, and would have been forced to fly along with Deitric up into the air as the warrior took momentary flight, spinning them both along the way.

Besides the rough and tumble spin-cycle while still on the edge of the platform, Akechi was also going to be dealing with a great deal of strain on his leg, still caught within Deitric's grip and forced to be the foci of Akechi's own spin. The rest of his body might not do so well either, and the constant pulse of electricity the fighter was putting out along with the wild, barely-controlled spin was going to make it hard for Akechi to do much of anything.

Assuming Deitric reached the apex of his cyclonic ascent, he'd do the simplest thing needed - let go. Akechi was far too heavy for Deitric to throw out of bounds, or out into the crowd, so he'd be aimed for one place - right back down at the platform they'd been fighting on. A throw down to the ground from several meters up, powered by the spinning flight of his opponent was going to hurt the psion quite a bit - but then again, if he wasn't too disoriented, he might get a decent landing. As it were, Deitric was sending him hurtling for the ground head and shoulders first.

Once he (presumedly) threw his opponent back ground-side, the warrior's own air-time came to an end, and he simply dropped back to the ground some forty or fifty feet away from Akechi's landing position. The throw hadn't been straight down, so the man would have traveled a ways, though Deitric would have came nearly straight down - he'd controlled his style-jump enough to land back on the platform and not in the water.

Around them, the crowd roared - no names could be heard; nothing that could even make it clear as to whether or not they held the crowd's favor other than the sheer volume. Simply a rolling sonic storm generated from the thousands upon thousands of spectators, all rolled into one massive sound that drowned the announcer himself out.

Crack--!

The hammer blow glanced hard off the side of Deitric's head, jarring the teeth in his mouth and tearing an ugly red gouge down the side of his face. The blunt head of the hammer caught him in the shoulder as well, but the muscle and flesh there kept it from doing too much damage - the glance to the head had taken some of the momentum too.

The warrior's world spun, and in more ways than one. He managed to maintain both his consciousness and his grip, the afore mentioned Flight of the Human Cyclone still taking place - even if he'd lost his grip, he'd of still been going up, the momentum had already been set into motion.

The warrior had spun counter to the way Akechi's knee was supposed to bend, a loud crack echoing in the arena as they made their way up. Further twisting and flailing would most likely tear up the inside of the ruined leg even more before the man slipped from the redskin's grasp - more from the inability to hold him, than any intent to force the man into the ground.

Thud.

Deitric would have slammed home just a split second after Akechi had been allowed to plummet to earth like a human comet, rocking the platform beneath them like a capsizing boat, stabilizing the previous bucking caused by Akechi's most likely none-too-graceful landing. Then again, the fighter hadn't made too good of a landing himself, landing feet first before collapsing into a kneel. It had been momentum and grit that had kept him and his opponent aloft, not coherent though.

The wound on the side of his head and face wasn't bad looking, but looks could be deceiving. The actual wound was unseen beneath the half-mask of blood that coated the man's face and went over his shoulder. He kept himself steady with his hands as he knelt, keeping his unfocused eyes on Akechi. Inky blackness touched at the edges of his vision, but the warrior kept his teeth grinding and tried to force it away.

Stupid hammers..

In the back of his mind, Deitric lackadaisically noted he probably had a concussion. He blinked hard and managed to regain his eye's focus, but his head was still pounding and the only sound he heard was the rushing of blood in his ears and the sound of his own heart beating. He didn't bother trying to move - he could worry about that later. Akechi probably wasn't in any position to fight right then, either. The Khasminic man's static aura sparked weakly, tiny, blue arcs of power drizzling around him and in the puddle of water that had formed under him.

"..."

The crowd cheered louder, each person chanting the name of their favorite fighter in an attempt to rouse their favored to rise and fight. It was far too loud to discern if either of them were in the majority - it was likely split.