The Final Round: Acolytes (Darth Drethi vs Nerius)

[Lassiter]

There was a cut, but judging by the reaction it wasn’t a good one. His side-step was steeped in the stench of oozing metal. Sena made an effort to step to do a follow-up of her own, a step backwards aided by a force push nulled out by the force pull of the man as he too tried to thrust his blade into her abdomen, yet her step back proved a success. Sena was fine and unharmed, a dodge well-maneuvered.

At least that’s what it seemed like at first.

She hadn’t taken the step. The sharp pain in her abdomen would be evidence enough of her failure as the smell of burned fabric and flesh filled the small space between the two combatants. Sena’s teeth gritted, her lips parted. Her eyes welled up and quickly sought to achieve eye contact with the pink monster as the pain began to swell up inside. As if on instinct her hands systematically reached out to grab his head.

Thumbs on his forehead, fingers on his scalp she tried to force his eyes open. Eye contact, rage, a desperate final attempt at getting her last punch into the game. Sena was exhausted, but she still had the smallest of energy reserves left and she had no choice but to exhaust that one too. A slight crackle eminated from the top of her fingertips. Her eyes peered into the man’s still as exponentially the shocks grew in strength.

Three...

The surge started to grow stronger. Her vision grew blurry.

Two...

It reached its peak. Everything started to spin as the world grew brighter.

One...

It began to fade again. Her legs gave way.

Zero.

It was gone. Sena collapsed onto the man before falling to the floor unconscious.

[[member="Nerius"] has won!]​

 

[Nerius]

Nerius caught the woman's form, but stumbled himself. Struggling against the darkness that sought to overcome his perception, he lowered her to the ground gently. Then he fell clear to his back. Reaching a hand that shook with harsh tremors, he removed her lightsaber and deactivated it.

Focusing on the wound, slowly his metallic flesh began to come back together. As if a spider were in the hole, fabric of his alloy makeup began to piece from one side to the opposite. The web like pattern continued to grow more as other strands grew. Before long it was as if the hole was never there, though his body ached and he felt drained severely.

Rising slowly to his feet, he grabbed both his sabers as well as the woman's, then lifted her to his back. Moving as fast as his body could allow, he carried her to the edge of the arena where the doors they entered sat as testament of the battle that had been destined to ensue. Moving her through, towards the awaiting crowd, he paused before a set of stairs.

Feth.

Yet she was a worthy opponent, and he knew she needed attention. So with each move draining him more, he carried her dead weight to the surface then towards where he sensed the Master presiding over the battle.

With every intention to set her gently on the ground, he couldn't now. Dropping her to the floor, he wobbled and fell to his knees. His breath came in sharp ragged bursts, his eyes swam midst a colorful array of stars and mist. Yet he slowly looked up to Lord Pyrrhus, "She needs...help." He gasped out, then lowered his head to his chest.

The placement of his body allowed him to stay upright, yet it could immediately be noticed that as soon as his chin touched his chest, he was unconscious.

[member="Darth Drethi"] [member="Darth Pyrrhus"]