Private Keep On Pushin'

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

Nar Shaddaa
The Pit

She hadn't been in these parts for a while.

She outgrew it.

Looking back at her younger self... feth, it was enough to flush up in embarrassment and never show your face again. If you weren't Mercy anyway. For one, Mercy was the shade and hue of burnished copper, so even if she was capable of blushing you would never notice it anyway. Secondly... Mercy loved herself too much to ever be embarrassed by herself. At most she believed she was a better version of herself.

And she had already been damn karking good.

"Oof, these are some amateurs." Mercy would remark outloud as she looked down the hole and watched the two bodies smash into one another. No finesse, no talent to attract the eye or amplify the glory being gained here.

Worthy of a good weep if Mercy ever cried.

She elbowed one of the people next to her, "See that chit? Didn't even try to whirl around his heels, wasted opportunity." It had been meant as an elbowing, but really she made the person next to her almost fall over sideways with the force behind the casual elbow. Mercy stretched and yawned. Quite rudely considering nobody behind her could see anything to begin with and now they couldn't look around her either.

"Tellin' ya..." To nobody in particular. "They dun' make them like they used to."

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

One in the group of onlookers unfortunately huddled behind Mercy was not straining against all anthropometric odds to see around the giant of a woman. Instead, as she yawned, this person slid into the spot that Mercy's mean elbow had vacated. The newcomer peered into the Pit herself. Something somehow more visceral about seeing the action in person than on the holoscreen situated above the grating made her nose wrinkle.

"They really don't," she agreed.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

She blinked.

Looked to her side.

Then glanced down slightly until she noticed Iayn.

"Well, hello." Glancing further down and then up again. "You sure this is your scene, babe?" Only then returning her own attention to the pit again. "Kinda a bloody business." And Iayn looked a little like a cute princess in a cosplay get-up, trying to seem tougher than she was. This was obviously an unfair assessment.

Mercy didn't even know her name.

But somehow felt equipped to making a whole sweeping generalization about everything else.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn smirked a little, still looking over the railing but attention fixed on Mercy. "Gatekeep-y too."

A lot of things had changed since she had been gone, for the much worse by first look of things. All these new problems, least of which was this audacious redhead and most of which was that these new fighters evidently lacked proper training and armament, she would change.

Somehow.

"Who's your bet?" she asked, turning to look up at Mercy.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

A slow rumbling shrug there.

"Don't want you to fall sick when it gets too gutchurning..." And Mercy checked Iayn there with her hip. It was a casual gesture, but perhaps it would have more force than Iayn would expect from such leisure.

Then again?

The armor wrapping around Iayn's form wasn't just for show.

"These mongrels don't deserve a bet." She responded airily. "One of 'em favors their left leg, other one keeps opening their head up for a blow. Either way, they ain't lasting for more than two rotations, if that."

Maybe Mercy ought to reassess her perspective. This was difficult for her. See, if she was an anthropomorphic personification of a boulder, then her opinion had the momentum to keep rolling down the hill regardless of what anyone might want to do about it. It took effort. Usually the kind of effort Mercy didn't want to expend.

"So why the get-up, you looking to go in an' have a fight yarself?"

There Mercy grinned.

Her fist, the one tattooed with eldritch symbols and that often had a mind of its own, was starting to itch. And clench into a ball, before unclenching and back again.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

A scoff now.

This wasn't gutchurning.

Nor was it going to get gutchurning.

"Nah," she replied. "My dance card's been retired for a while." She screwed up her nose when she spoke next, completely voluntarily this time and with an air of mystery. "Just looking to jog a few memories."

That was, if there was anyone still alive and in operation around here that remembered The Demoness in her glory days. Iayn's dance card wasn't just out of date, it had been dragged through the mud, engine grease, and about half of her blood volume. Would anyone who used to know her then even take her seriously now?

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

A soft chuckle and there Mercy turned to Iayn proper.

Perhaps it was curiosity or the big woman felt a bit stir-crazy.

There she gently (for Mercy's usual repertoire anyway) nudged Iayn by the shoulder backwards. Almost a full push for a regular-sized person.

"I can jog some memories... a lot of them even." The grin that erupted there was almost bloody even though no blood seeped through sharp smiled teeth. "If ya get tired of watching and wanna do some livin' instead..." Was that a challenge? Almost assuredly. But knowing Mercy it could mean anything from a casual screw to a fight to the death in that pit next to them.

"Get some exercise in that fancy armor of ya's..."

Still unclear really.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn stumbled, not ready for such a push. But, at least for someone who hadn't been able to get a wide stance under her, whose feet were still casually crossed along with her hands. It was not the vantage that someone would stay standing in when encountered with so much...force.

In fact, Mercy might have felt a small but sudden shift in the uppercase variety like the wrinkling of an unsecured floor rug.

The fabric settled again as Iayn regained her footing and straightened up. She grinned back at Mercy, albeit less gnarly-like. "Maybe sometime, if you're lucky." Two could play at that vagueness game. She then stacked two fingers to her temple and gave a casual salute. "See ya around," she added as she turned on her heel to slip into the audience stage left.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

This would have pissed her off even a year ago.

Who the kriff thought she had to be the lucky one in a situation like this? No, they were the lucky ones. Always. Mercy didn't chase. She was chased. No, chase was the wrong word. Worshipped, prayed and devoted to... and if Mercy felt... well... merciful? She'd grant them her attention. At least a smidgen of it before she grew bored and moved on.

Luckily Mercy was more reasonable these days.

Instead it only elicited a roll of her eyes. She would have continued to spectate the Pitt, if not for one surprising thing - the egomaniac (pot calling kettle) was a force sensitive.

"Yeah.... see ya..." Muttered after her while mulling on this. "Maybe sometime will be sooner than ya ready for tho."

Already her body was set in motion. Like a rolling boulder it cleaved through the crowd, which parted before the bulky mass without any prompt needed, as Mercy followed along Iayn. She rolled her shoulders, loosening herself up as the Darkside beckoned from a distance. It was as easy as breathing to seize hold of it.

Immediately her presence flared up within the mystical.

Mercy had never been subtle, mentally nor physically. Her twisted eldritch arm responded almost immediately towards the connection burned between the woman and the Force.

Its fingers began to contort and to move on its own.

They began to form a spell... that would start to draw starweirds to itself. Mercy didn't notice that yet however... her attention was too focused on Iayn's retreating back.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

As she pushed through the crowd ahead of her second shadow, Iayn felt spirit ichor begin to flow around her. The invisible current grew stronger with each dancing, shuffling step. She just barely made it to a safe haven, all put threw herself into a nearby alcove, before the pressure on her knees buckled them.

"What in—?" she muttered to herself under her breath as she turned around in time to see the organic wake opening in front of Mercy.

Iayn forced herself off the wall she had braced back up against with her elbows. "Can't wait then?" she projected loudly enough to be heard by the redhead over the distance between them, filled with fight club ambience.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

"Can't blame me, right?"

She licked her lips and showed those same sharp teeth again.

"When a lady is hungry ... she gotta feed." Mercy took another step forward and then blinked. Meatmeatmeatmeatmeat. Whispering through her mind and Mercy nodded imperceptibly. She didn't quite upgrade herself to human meat eater yet, but something told the Sith that if she didn't take good care... that could change.

The soup had changed her.

In ways that Mercy wasn't yet sure of, but the endless hunger was definitely part of it.

Her hand (the one that did follow her commands) balled into a fist. But perhaps Iayn would notice her other hand, marked in tattoos which shined bright and pulsated sickly, had a mind of its own and was currently busy going through the motions of a summoning ritual.

"What do you have to offer?" Almost greedily as Mercy took another step forward.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

"Look, lady, I've been told my blood's especially salty." At least Malcoma had recounted that the Ripper had said so. At the time he had, Iayn wasn't very conscious. "You can have it, but I hope it spikes your blood pressure."

Her eyes did catch to Mercy's eldritch appendage. She assumed that whatever it was doing was causing her trouble.

She looked back to Mercy's face, her own eyebrows raised. "Er, maybe it's already kinda high. Sorry." That pulsating couldn't be anything good.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

"Ah... darling... you ought to know better than to give permission." Mercy responded sweetly as she slowly stretched. It looked like she was not worried at all, but then again.

A creature like Mercy was never worried.

Not even when her throat was crushed or her arms shattered.

It was an indomitable will that powered her forward. A hunger to take what was hers... it was just a shame that Mercy considered everything she wanted to be hers, no matter if it belonged to someone else or not. Out above the first wisps of conjuration started to appear. A half-formed Starweird trying to push itself through the thin fabric of reality and come into existence.

But... that was far above them... it was not yet their problem.

No, the problem? Mercy's form suddenly blurring as she sped up towards Iayn, fully intending to slam her into the wall behind her and pin her against it.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn just barely threw herself out of the way in time, but did not stick the rolling landing. Instead, she crumpled to the floor, then flipped herself over and gave a quick glance to the midair conjuring.

Eyes flit back to Mercy. "And you oughta learn to really ask first, but here we are."

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

"Quick little thing, arentcha?" Mercy murmured with barely-concealed mirth.

Oh, yes, she was into this.

"You gonna run all day or... ya gonna dance?" She pulled herself free from the wall. It left behind a faint imprint of her body. Pieces of duracrete embedded in her skin began to fall off and down to the ground. Little trickles of blood, but they were already closing down. If Mercy had seemed inhumane before?

Well, it was worse now.

Sadly Mercy didn't have much in the way of affecting the world around her from a distance.

Instead she called on the Force to speed herself up, so she could catch Iayn with a hard kick in her side, before she could get up.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

And she did: catch Iayn right in the side, under the chestpiece even.

She doubled over to the side and coughed up some air that Mercy's foot had chased up out of her lungs, plus a few droplets of brown-red blood it had picked up on the way. The rest, she licked from her lip, focused as she straightened her prone body back out and rose her legs, bending them at the knee to keep Mercy at bay. At the same time, her hands came up to protect her face.

"Guess I got to now."

Though the Pit match continued to rage, it began to sound to more and more muffled. All around the new sidelines of Iayn and Mercy's ring, the audience's jeers and hollering slowly quieted, for a moment, two, and then came again in whispers when beings began turning, then tugging others to look, towards the uncontained brawl.

Maybe it was how her ears still rang from the fall, the blow, plus her laser focus locked on Mercy.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

Once Mercy realized she was becoming the center of attention?

Oh, yeah.

This was how it was supposed to be.

The kick created enough distance between Iayn and herself, but Mercy was all about the theatrics. She spread her arms and smiled brightly at the slow growing circle of watchers around them. "Ladies and gentlebeings, aren't we tired of the same ol' tired Pitt fights?" Big chitting grin widening as she noticed Iayn get back into combat stance.

"Here for you... a naturally developed beatdown ... not planned, not organized... and it will go on until one party gives in."

By the way Mercy was positively vibrating out of her skin?

Well, it was clear who she thought would be the winner. It was only when she looked to her other side that she noticed what her hand was doing. Mercy sighed and gripped hold of the errant eldritch hand, forcing its fingers to stop. This... was more difficult than you could imagine. The eldritch fist even tried to hit Mercy in the face.

This presumably looked like the big muscular woman was kind of... well, not very well in the head.

She was also distracted and not paying attention to Iayn, so if the other woman was looking for a moment to get her revenge now would be the time.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

And once Iayn realized she was no longer the center of attention?

She braced up on one hand, straightened out her leg, and kicked it underneath her. She was standing now, hand still steady on the ground as she stayed low but gave a glance high up towards the Starweird again. She didn't know how to fix that, but she knew, probably, how to fix her problem on the ground: sprinting towards Mercy, her power first drawn from skin and sinew, then gravity as she dropped to the floor for a leg sweep.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Iayn Dystraay

Oh and Iayn succeeded.

Her leg sweeping out and connecting hard with Mercy's ankles. Usually the brawler would have been in a fighting pose- ready to either dodge or absorb the blow, rooted like an oak into the floor. But her hand was giving her trouble and Mercy only realized the danger coming once Iayn was upon her. It was all she could do to twist ever so slightly.

Instead of breaking her feet at the joint she was swept off the floor and collided aggressively into the floor.

Somehow the floor itself shook at the sheer mass and strength of Mercy's fall. Like she was more than just her physical presence. As if with every move something else reached out through her to assist.

The back of her head connected with the floor and Mercy growled as she felt wet liquid seep down her neck.

"Ahhhh..." It almost seemed like plaintive whimpering... until.... "Haaa....hahaaaa..." Laughter, bloody wet sharp laughter as Mercy twisted around until she homed in on Iayn.

"Girl's got bite."

A smirk there as her tattooed hand balled in a fist at the same time as her regular one.

My turn. Mercy hissed and her form blurred. One moment she was still laying, the next? She was up on her feet and flying towards Iayn. This creature had no business being so fast, but somehow it managed anyway. She closed the distance quick and swift. Then thrust with a fist to Iayn's head. A feint, because the moment the girl guarded her face?

She'd bury her eldritch fist into the girl's gut.

The sheer force of it had nothing to do with Mercy's muscles.

If it connected? Iayn would receive a quick and terrifying image. A dark universe, populated by twisted shapes and forms, with many eyes. All of them?

Staring right at her.

 

[Iayn Dystraay]

Iayn fell—or rather, drew her arms up—into that trap hook, line, and sinker. There was no time to slide her guard back down to protect her side, but just enough to slightly shift her weight away from the incoming blow, hip to hip. It didn't help quite as much as she thought it might, as the fist still landed hard, as did that image.

Letting out a yelp and another bout of blood, the former gladiator flew diagonally towards the ground in the direction of Mercy's momentum, then slid into the feet of one of the onlookers.

They didn't move.

Iayn contorted her body to hop up onto her haunches, careful to skirt another invasion of this being's personal space. Strange concept for this crowd, yes, but Iayn had gained a few manners in her time outside of it.

Shaking her head as if that would undo what she had just seen, she slowly rose to her feet. "Why, you jerk!"

"Demonessss."

An even but slithering voice made her retract her movement. A glance to one side of the crowd would reveal a trandoshan man whom hadn't been there moments ago. An electric prodder was slung on his back. It made Iayn's eyes widen a hair, then squint as she noticed the keychain hanging off of it over her shoulder.

Roughly round. Tanned. Hole-punched onto a rusty, fine-linked chain.

Mercy