Ajira Cardei vs Yvette Dusong

[Eralam]

Our combatants find themselves in possible the worst place to have a fight from a spectator's standpoint: a dark, dank hallway in a long abandoned research facility.

The hallway is fifty meters long, three meters wide, and four meters tall. The ends are sealed off by blast doors, nearly impenetrable constructs that wouldn't seem out of place on a Star Destroyer. They're closed for a good reason: the lab is in lockdown. A deadly contagion has escaped, and everything behind those doors has been burned to ash. The contagion was rendered harmless, but roaring infernos plague the rest of the underground facility.

If not for a happy accident, the hallway too would be engulfed in flame, but somehow, it is not. The combatants have air, and a bit of light too, from the emergency glowpanels along the walls. The contagion was contained before it had a chance to make it this far, so the biggest threat the fighters face is each other.

If history proves anything, that will be more than enough.

[member="Ajira Cardei"]
[member="Yvette Dusong"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"...got a little cooked, but I'm okay." Ajira paused, leaning against the warm northern blast door. The hall wasn't exactly conducive to clear sight. She squinted fifty metres into the gloom; something was down there by the south door. "Shambleau, I'll have to call you back."

Despite her aide's protestations, Ajira slipped her comlink into a pocket. Nothing in this facility had a prayer of being friendly. She rubbed at her forearms, already scorched and spark-pitted. Cosmetic damage, but it stung, and the pain sharpened her mind. She wasn't equipped for a serious fight just now, though she had to admit that had never stopped her before. A lot of times it boiled down to pride; she'd fought for a throne in workout clothes once upon a time, just so nobody could say she'd relied on crutches to win. And sure, maybe there'd been an element of that arrogance (and insecurity) in how little she'd brought along, but-

No, no but. Sometimes she just got in over her head. Couldn't be helped. Once you'd put down a few gods and monsters, once the great powers relied on arch practitioners who'd learned from the students of your students' students, arrogance got into your bones. And you made the kind of decisions that put you in this kind of situation, wearing a jumpsuit and carrying nothing but a lightsabre.

Ajira wiped soot off her brow with moderate success, hefted the unlit weapon, and headed south.

[member="Yvette Dusong"]

 

[Yvette Dusong]

Widened eyes frenziedly ran across those lifeless walls surrounding her on either side, worn and rusted metal as far those azure eyes could possibly see within the unending darkness laid before her - quivering orbs dancing from one segment to the next as the flickering lights laid mere feet away from one another gleamed across them. Rays of crimson shyly peered through that unending veil as they struggled to carry forth a modicum of light through it for the briefest moment, unable to properly pierce the shroud before it succumbed underneath its mechanical directive, twisting endlessly only to shine through once more as the small bulbs rotated themselves into position. Heat struggled to pour through that concrete fence as the flames beyond continued to spiral beyond control, flammable materials - lavishly spread through the building itself - more than sufficient in keeping that searing inferno fed, clouds of smoke gently wafting in through the small cracks embedded into the corners of those massive doors before forcefully being funnelled through the various fans mounted atop the ceiling. Even as those trembling fingers lightly pressed themselves against the hefty barrier standing between her and the ravenous blaze across, Yvette could not help but feel her sensitive flesh endlessly pricked by it all.

Ripped apart garments clung onto her exhausted frame as well as they possible could while the famished inferno beyond claimed whatever it could during her mad dash to safety. The sleeves themselves burned to a cinder until nothing remained of them - flesh and hair alike scorched and charred into a fine dust as she felt her head throbbing in utter agony - feeling as if one repeatedly struck her across the arm with a hammer. Mere hours ago she was dressed in a loose robe that moulded itself to her lithe body thanks to a simple sash wrapped around her stomach alongside a small leather belt holding various intricacies, a wonder in of itself that the latter two survived unscathed in so far while the black fabric itself was nearly torn to pieces. Slowly pushing herself against the towering door behind her, Yvette reluctantly slipped down across its length until she landed on her rear, trembling legs carefully curling inwards so that she could wrap both arms around her knees - as well as rest her head atop them. Muffled groans lightly echoed through that lifeless void as the stench of burned cloth poured through her twitching nostrils, the flesh itself turned to crimson as irritation ensued.

Ears twitched once they heard those abominable footsteps bounce between those claustrophobic walls while they drew closer, reluctantly tilting her head backwards to peer into the abyss as dread nestled itself atop her shoulders - chills crawling across the trembling girls spine once her scurrying eyes finally spotted that insidious outline between the bursts of dim light - the various bottles and brushes strapped onto her belt clicking together in unison as she could hardly contain herself from shivering in fright. Pale digits instinctively tightened their grip around the slim hilt of her weapon as her free arm jutted upwards, thumb and index pressing down onto either side of her throat as her haggard breaths became more frantic. Spit constantly found itself pooled within the pit of her mouth as her tongue desperately gathered as much as it could before guiding it backwards, mewls of pain dragging themselves from the pits of her stomach as she slowly applied pressure. Delightfully guttural one might add, the words that slipped through those quivering lips resembled no sound a mere human could make - the drool slowly leaking past the stranglehold of her fingers as she forcefully twisted her vocal chords with the use of the force to resemble that of a beast, the added echo only helping its delivery even as the words themselves were slurred.

"RrRrReeeeEEEEEEAAAAAaaaaavVvVvV!"​

Her trembling thumb quickly pushed down onto the hilt of her weapon as she struggled to lower her weapon through that prolonged gurgle, her pain-addled brain utterly refusing to even consider the notion of dropping her weapon as tears welled up within those bloodshot eyes. Carefully pointing her arm outwards - thumb and index once more curling inwards into a circle while the rest held onto that prized possession - eyes narrowed as she focused as much as she could onto the various lights surrounding her. One after another the glass itself shattered underneath that unnatural pressure, shards aimlessly falling onto the floor beneath as the wires found themselves ruptured soon after - the abyss itself growing with each passing change of pitch in her voice - the bones themselves quivering madly until her thumb painfully twisted itself backwards.

​

"GgGgGgGGGEEAAHHH!"​

​

[member="Ajira Cardei"]

​

Spoiler

FORCE POWER ACTIVATED :
Right Arm : Gripping her throat with two fingers, using them to channel the force through it to twist and manipulate her vocal chords.
Left Arm : Index and Thumb curled inwards, creating a semi-circle. Aiming at the lights, channelling the force through them to shatter some of the lights on her side of the field in rhythm with the scream. Thumb dislocated. Other three fingers gripping the hilt of her weapon.

Weapon : Available / Left Hand / Lightsaber hilt
Arms : Sleeveless, hair on them scorched, skin burned
Equipment : Brushes and Ink Bottles strapped to her belt

Spoiler

Dreadfully sorry for the delay to this post and the rather poor quality as it goes on! Written it late in the night / early in the morning, if any inconsistencies / issues I'll be sure to address them as soon as possible!

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Yvette Dusong"]

The old sages had taught that every true Master of the Force faced a choice between power and insight, between throwing stones and reading ripples, between learning to listen and shouting all the time. Ajira had spent a long career choosing power just about every time. But even she could sense that something was deeply wrong here. The Force warped in a way that reminded her of the handful of Sith spells she'd learned during her time on the throne. Quantitatively, she didn't sense all that much of the Force at work, but qualitatively-

Well, it took a lot to show Ajira Cardei something she hadn't faced a hundred times before. This situation constituted an exception.

Exhibit A: One girl, attractive, young, wearing pulp-mag-ragged clothes, huddled against the blast door.

Exhibit B: The hand latched around that girl's throat.

Exhibit C: Upraised and unlit sabre, dislocated thumb.

Exhibit D: The shattering lights. Ajira's specialty lay in Force shielding; she surrounded herself with a faint nimbus of Force protection, and glass rattled off or slowed until it merely brushed her skin. A couple of tiny points swelled with blood. As of yet, nothing serious.

Exhibit D: That ugly, senseless keening. The girl seemed to be going to a lot of effort, and subjecting herself to serious pain, just to produce that noise. The inherent illogic set Ajira on edge and made her wonder whether the noise had a purpose. Belatedly she noticed that the sound went in time with the lights.

Abruptly, it clicked. The gestures, the sound, the ugliness lurking under the normal currents of the Force. Somatic components for unknown or improvised Sith magic. A rare, rare talent. In other circumstances she'd have considered taking the girl under her wing. Clearly, however, the ragamuffin was insane and armed with an insidious power. The best course of action was to dispose of her quickly.

I can do somatic components too, kid.

The Force protection faded to a lesser degree as Ajira stopped walking in a section of hall where the lights had already broken. Her decreased shielding gave her the attention she needed to bring up her off hand and touch forefinger to thumb. Her intention was to close a Force grip around the girl's throat, in line with the carotid -- a quick, merciless blood choke, ideally. The faster she disoriented the girl, the faster she could put her down and figure out a way to escape.

Apart from the obvious, of course.