Faction Trials by Fire - Tournament [TSE]

[The Amalgam]

The Amalgam snarled as Cara Dorniarn withstood the vicious assault, hitting only artificial parts. Cara seemed pretty good at taking blows. But The Amalgam would crack her shell yet.

That is, if Cara didn't crack her skull first. The Amalgam shifted her head partly out of the way, so the blow caught most of her chin, effectively breaking her jaw.

Inhuman, tinny, metallic pig like squeals of pain erupted from the abomination as she staggered backward from Cara's blow choking white blood up, as her eyes fixed on Cara, jaw hanging disgustingly open, flapping in the wind, white blood pouring out.

Her hands took on a two-handed choking gesture, like both hands were around a neck as she telekinetically tried to strangle Cara unconscious, or at least do enough damage to whatever cyber parts were in her neck so she would be incapacitated an unable to continue.

She looked like a mess, an overly muscular mess, and it was clear that Cara had done damage but The Amalgam had survived much worse.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

Cara furrowed a brow at the unnatural squeals, finding disgust with the otherness of her opponent. Whatever The Amalgam was it incurred her full disapproval.

As Cara reared back her fist The Amalgam shot forth two hands. Cara felt herself stop but couldn't pinpoint just where she had been grabbed-- that is, until she heard a distinct crunch below and behind her ear. Sensors blinked errors in her HUD as the chip for her neural interface was under heavy pressure. The chip wasn't an off switch, but it allowed her much more specific and technical Mechu-deru tactics. The HUD of the black-domed helmet ceased with a side-winding pattern.

Cara placed both hands around her neck as if it would do anything. It wasn't that she could feel pain, but building pressure alerted her that she had a short frame of time. She couldn't eject the chip since it was buried under layers of duraplast, nor could she tear away The Amalgam's grip. But there was something she could tear.

As the idea entered her mind a distinct, muffled snap sounded at the base of her neck. For a moment of pure dread did she think her spine was severed. The movement of her feet assured her otherwise, but the connection between her arms felt hollow. They still moved and twitched but she couldn't feel them. The electronic firings were muted. They were religated to their base mechanisms, no longer so fluidly manipulated by subconscious control.

"Damn."

She stretched out her hand towards The Amalgam's broken jaw, attempting a telekinetic grasp. The stalling movements of her arm all ended with a crude click and whir, then a fast whine as she pulled backward, palm open to catch the morbid prize.

 

[The Amalgam]

Sometimes, no matter how good you are, there is simply no avoiding a brutal but elegant attack.

The Amalgam's flesh, already starting to get slick and weaken from constantly channeling Force Rage, was simply not strong enough to resist.

The lower jaw wretched forward, and though the Shi'ido barely felt it, even it knew how serious it was when the flesh and muscles teared openly on one side and she was forced to abandon her choke attempt to keep her jaw from completely ripping off, eliciting more pig like squeals as white blood gushed forward, cupping her mouth, concentration completely broken for the moment.

Slowly, she used her inner corruption to force away the rip attempt. The rage was going to start wearing off soon. The Amalgam knew it had to finish this fight before that.

Her eyes went moldy and yellowish, body in the faintest, earliest stages of starting to decay.

The Amalgam stretched out a hand to Cara.

She focused her hatred and wrath, lightning arcing off her arm, which then leaped forward as a single heavy bolt of purple lightning at reduced power at Cara's left leg. She had damaged Cara's neck. Now it was time to see if she could reduce her mobility.

But focusing through the pain, even in a rage state, was taxing. Even summoning the lightning had rotted her body a little on the inside, made her flesh a little more moldy looking with the bolt she fired.

Her hatred kept her standing. Any one of her injuries would have floored ordinary creatures.

She was sprinting again after firing the bolt, not caring if it hit or not because she had launched her fists with inhuman speed in the manner of Atrisian Judo to try and hit Cara Dorniarn in the jaw.

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Tag: AMCO​

---

The house shook, some terrible machine booming in the distance as their neighbour’s homes were reduced to rubble. A woman rushed in, calling out. “Baby? Honey where are you?!”

“Mama!” The boy rushed out from his hiding spot in the kitchen, latching onto the woman’s leg. He couldn’t have been more than five or six; his little baby face dirty with dust and soot, contorted into a grimace as tears rolled down his face. The woman knelt down and pulled him into a warm embrace. Even as the world crumbled around them, his mother was a soothing presence, and the boy’s wailing subsided into a few intermittent sniffles. “Mama, I’m scared.”

She pulled back, bringing her hand up and wiping her son’s face clean. The world seemed to brighten as she gave a warm smile and ruffled his dark black hair. “You’re so handsome.” The urgency from her voice had disappeared. Despite her kind expression, one could see the pain and sadness in her eyes. That was lost on the boy, who finally calmed down and got his words out.

“I saw… I saw Mr Oki, he’s in the back, and I think he’s… he’s…”

“Sssshh, don’t worry. You’ll be okay. Okay? Now listen carefully, there isn’t much time. I want you to go down to the basement and hide under the stairs, okay? Mama will be back for you.”

“No she won’t,” Dorian seethed. His tone was angry, but his face betrayed his sadness.

Dorian.

The boy nodded in understanding. “Are you leaving now Mama?”

“Yes.” She glanced at the doorway, beside which a curved sword rested. “I need you to be brave, Dorian. No matter what, stay in the basement until someone comes for you. If you’re safe, I’ll be safe too, right?”

“No.”

Dorian.

“Right.”

They embraced one last time, the woman squeezing her son with all the love she had left. Dorian wanted to scream, to break something, to stop this, but he was powerless. He didn’t want to see this, but he was forced to watch as his mother pulled away, and the little boy scuttled off towards the basement. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, even knowing she could not hear him.

Dorian. ​

The mother walked to the door, picking up the katana that had been left there. She held it up, studying the green hue of the blade for a few moments. The little boy stopped at the door to the basement, watching his mother hesitate at their house’s entrance. Her lips moved, but her words were so soft it was only now that Dorian could truly hear them.

“Protect him. Please.”

Tears rolled down Dorian’s face as his mother turned away for the last time, disappearing into the hell that lay outside. The little boy went downstairs — Dorian could replay those memories on his own, quite well, but only now did he question himself. What could he have done differently? How would his mother see him now? It weighed heavy on his heart and mind, and the man sunk to his knees, unrecognizable as the powerful warrior the audience had seen earlier.

DORIAN. ​

---

His head shot up as the voice rang in his mind. The scene of his ruined little house began to fade, at first to black, but suddenly that darkness turned to light. He found himself in an empty, white landscape, in which he cast no shadow and he could see no features. He wiped away his tears and struggled to his feet. “What… where…”

“Do you know where your mother’s strength came from, Dorian?” The voice was that of a man’s. He spoke in a calm, soothing tone; he was not accusatory nor malicious, only thoughtful and kind. “She had someone to protect, someone who reminded her that she needed to be greater to honour her son and protect his future.

“You struggle with the past, Dorian, such that you cannot look forward. Remember well, but do not drown in those memories. Next time you are struck in such a way, I may not be able to help you. Now go.”

---

Dorian found himself on his knees. His mind had reeled from the sorcerer’s attack, but all of a sudden a flash of light pulled him back, along with the audience’s attention. He pushed himself up, his earlier bravado seemingly having evaporated as he focused on his opponent, slowly moving towards Adrian. Stopping his bout of Force Speed strained his muscles, but an unbreakable determination had seemed to take hold over him, and he continued to place one foot in front of the other, his eyes seemingly aglow, as if a new fire had been lit in his soul.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

So close, she almost claimed that grim token. The Amalgam kept the jaw in place, removing the hold on Cara. The engineer backed a short distance, enough for a little breathing room. The Amalgam was worn. Cara was worn.

Had any of the other duels been so vicious? She hadn't the time to grant them a moment's notice, her focus fully taxed by the strange creature in view. What was that thing? Molding and rotting before her very eyes. Cara knew precious little of Sith alchemy, let alone Sith sorcery. If the origin of that monstrosity were a deeper result of those arts Cara wouldn't begin to know.

She closed a fist, the action mechanical and rigid, the sensation hollow and alien. No longer were actions performed faster than a blink. They were sluggish, predictable. She would have to calculate her opponent's actions twice as fast and three times as accurate. When you may have time for one move it can't be wasted on the wrong one.

Purple threads played down her arm; Lightning charge. Calf and thighs tensed; Jumping forward. But could Cara block it in time? The Amalgam sprang then sent off a bolt of intense charge.

No, she didn't have time to block it, and she was close enough that her molecular shield didn't catch it. Her Force-wrapped arm missed the attack and it struck true. The ultrachrome heated violently, adding more pain to the already damaged limb.

As the leg buckled to the ground Cara sucked in a breath. She was too hurt to stand on her own, and it was time to pull a last resort. In that moment she opened herself, allowing the furnace of her resolve to be fueled by the Force. The fire may have burned twice as hot but it wouldn't last forever. Force Body was a demanding resource, and if she wasn't careful, her fire could burn out completely.

While rising from her knee The Amalgam's fist met the durasteel of her helmet. It sent Cara reeling backward from the momentum, her helmet last seen sprawling towards the stadium's seats. She paused there, for a moment, then looked back to The Amalgam.

The burning of her eyes matched the heart of an open crucible. She raised her arms to protect her head and assumed a boxer's stance. The pain in her leg was blocked, the throb that should have pulsed in her head quelled.

She raised then slammed her foot into the ground, the stone vomiting a sloppy rectangular slab. She spun on her heel and raised the other leg in a kick, launching the slab toward The Amalgam.

Her sweep came to a stop and she took a forceful stomp back, a jagged pillar lurching from the floor. Metal hands were mere placeholders for the telekinetic grip she laid on the stone. The pillar snapped from its origin, and Cara had begun to follow through with a swing of the battering-ram.

 

[AMCO]

Despite being the cause, he could not see what Dorian saw, could not feel what he felt, but he could see the pain on his features. Whatever horrors of the past his opponent was reexperiencing, it could not be pleasant.

A softer man might have flinched, but Adrian did not differentiate between physical and spiritual pain, and that punch had fething hurt. Taking the opportunity to push himself back on his feet, he was preparing to finish the fight when his opponent forced his way through his sorceries, somehow. It almost felt like... nevermind. He could examine the details later.

Meeting Dorian's eyes and seeing the fierce determination within, a wry smile crossed the Sorcerer's lips, even as he overcame his cough and straightened. "Well done... but I think it's time we finish this, no? One way or another." ... and why not make it spectacular, while they're at it.

Fingers snaking out, he exerted his will in full, the strain of this and previous acts evident on the tightly focused features. Seething tendrils of scintillating energy surging forth, he sought to bind the gladiator within a tightly woven lattice of Dark Side energies. The anvil to the barely-corporeal Smoke Knight's metaphorical hammer.

Too tired to do much more, too focused to move... this had to work.

Dorian Sicarrio​

 

[The Amalgam]

Success! But Cara Dorniarn was still not down for the count.

The Amalgam cursed at this, feeling Cara summon her power to stay standing. Her Force Rage was starting to weaken further. Maybe two minutes and thirty seconds before it would cut, and with the injuries she had it would be unwise to trigger it again: Cara had already done significant damage that was slowly but surely aggravating her current accelerated cellular decay.

Cara looked pissed AF. Even the horrid abomination battling her was caught off guard by how pissed Cara looked. That slight moment of actual concern about whether this cyborg might actually beat her cost her, and she could only partly evade the stone slab Cara kicked at her, which shaved part of her suit and flesh off her right arm, sending gooey white blood flying that burst into purple flame as it landed on the stones.

It was the follow up attack that did the worst damage though.

She had even less success evading it, and while she did manage to avoid it hitting center mass, this impact not only hit the same arm that had just been damaged by the slab, it ripped it right the feth off.

The Amalgam squealed unnaturally as the blood started spewing, but in her dodge, she saw it had knocked her close to one of her lightsabers as she was sent flying, part of her hip skin gone also.

She grabbed it with her remaining good arm, cauterizing the wound in a split second to prevent further blood loss as she scrambled away from Cara.

The flesh on her face had started to completely slough on the left side as the decay caused by her injuries accelerated further. Cara had played probably her last, best remaining hand. It was time for one of hers.

Since the death of a thousand cuts strategy seemed to work so well on Cara (And her, but that was only because this was an arena instead of a true battlefield: If this was the real deal, The Amalgam would have tried to just kill her from afar with some huge, overpowered, chickenchit sniper rifle long before even considering personally engaging her as she was a dirty cheating fiend.)

The Amalgam grew physically weaker as she stared in pure wrath at Cara, trying to focus her stare to burn out Cara's eyes partly from afar, again, not caring if it succeeded as she started running towards her with the lit blade, still quite fast but nowhere near as fast as she had started out.

The Dominator tech in her remaining glove would give her the leverage for a power slash directed at Cara's shoulder on her right, launching a very fast kick at Cara's jaw, to try and pay her back for trying to rip hers literally off her face.

It might knock her out. Might. But this cyborg had continuously surprised her. Could she do it once more, or was she as the Amalgam perceived her...at the end of her stamina?

Either way, the studio had blown a metric fethton on the FX.

One person in the crowd, noting the disgusting physical state of the evil witch battling Cara, could not help but vomit his lunch up.

"I knew I shouldn't have eaten before coming to this place." He muttered in the stands, nauseated.

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Tag: AMCO​

---

Focus, concentration, determination... those were often the things that determined the outcome of a battle. Focus on the battle, but also one's opponent -- to see where they were focusing. A crafty warrior could employ deception to draw his opponent's focus, or to distract from where his own focus was. But truly the wise warrior would be able to see through the lies and know where his opponent's focus was. And in this case, realize the importance of where it wasn't.

Dorian stopped as Adrian raised his hands and began his spell. Pouring his strength into Force speed would probably hurt him as much as getting hit by the sorcerer's magic. His mind raced as he thought of alternatives, until finally he was reminded of the weapon that'd been buried since the start of the fight. With Adrian's last reserves being poured into his final attack, the crimson spear could be freed.

The gladiator threw up his hand, reaching out and grasping his lance. The armor of the fallen smoke knight crumbled for a second time as the weapon rose at its wielder's beckoning. Away from the net cast by his opponent, the spear was free to move, and move it did -- its speed matched Dorian's as it shot off towards Adrian, spinning rapidly as the blunt end aimed to slam into the sorcerer's stomach.

 

[AMCO]

His stomach ached, and his exertions weighed heavily upon his shoulders... but victory was within sight. His net descended upon his foe, encroaching from every side, with whatever telekinesis the man had sought to muster being entirely ineffectual. Bloody moron, it was entirely noncorpo...

Ach.

Flung to the ground by the violence of the spear's impact, he coughed harshly, clutching his chest as his blue eyes stared up at the sky above. The spear. The fething spear. His net dispersed harmlessly, any semblance of concentration lost or fracturing as pain overwhelmed the scholarly Sith - so unused to the harshness of actual combat.

It was over, or so he thought, for even as he began to shakily raise his hand in surrender, the last remaining Smoke Knight - binding fraying violently due to the near-incapacitation of its summoner - barrelled towards Dorian with all the subtlety of a freight train, its lower body disintegrating before the crowd's eyes even as it threw everything it had left into one last punch, in accordance with the instructions at the core of its binding:

Protect the master, no matter what.

Dorian Sicarrio​

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

The golden smolder of Cara's eyes grew into furious whorls as she met The Amalgam 's stare directly. The stone pillar had been thrown with the follow through that sheared off the monster's arm and Cara was already preparing a new attack. She centered herself low, her left fist raised midway and her right hung low.

The Amalgam's leer was felt, but the emanation of the Force still surged through Cara, her body slowly burning with the artificial vigor previously called upon. If she was going to give it wasn't timetabled yet. The engineer hoped to throw a volley of pebble bullets but her arms were out of sync with her focus. The Amalgam was upon her before she the right arm could respond.

"A downward slash--" and it was so. Instead of dodging Cara leaned into the strike. The Amalgam had went for her shoulder, the lightsaber crackling against the socket cover as it overheat the ultrachrome then steadily chewed downward with violet teeth.

A late reaction. The metal arm slung upward but there was no stone to throw, Cara having abandoned her last plan for a new strategy. Instead she utilized the delayed reaction, attempting to take hold of the white assassin's remaining arm.

Then came the kick. It was rapid and Cara admittedly didn't see it coming. Leaning forward may have been a minimal saving grace, but the kick still smacked into her like a launched file cabinet (it was a day at the office and a new cyborg in testing. Long story).

She knew she was falling backward but refused to close out the world as it spun. "Recover."

There were only two things she could picture happening if she didn't get on her feet: The Amalgam's sloughing face dripping white blood on her armor --which was a gross contaminate-- and the corrupt vision the monster had put in her head earlier in the fight. The last could never be justified, and the the gall of the Shi'ido to pull such a trick still burned Cara's pride.

As she fell backward she kicked up her legs, rolling back onto a knee as the world came stuttering back into focus. Smoke billowed from the gash on her shoulder but that wasn't where a metallic scent was coming from. The blood dripped to her upper lip then followed the curve down to her chin, another warm line then running down her cheek. How bad the hit was she didn't know, inventory unable to be taken at that moment-- only that vision from the left side was poor. Pain was still under lock and key, kept away for a dwindling amount of time.

Cara folded her arms in front of her--the right noticeably lower due to a damaged servo--and willed energy to her legs, springing forward to bulldoze into The Amalgam's frame.

 

[The Amalgam]

Oh this cyborg. This fething cyborg, The Amalgam thought to herself, flesh decaying a little bit more as Cara Dorniarn recovered from the Bruce Lee-style kick. Then she was sprinting right at her.

The Amalgam had about a minute left before the rage cut, and now it was getting to be a real question of just what it would take to bring Cara down without resorting to lethal force. If this was a battlefield it would not be a question: The Amalgam had actually held back much of the fight. Usually against such an extremely dangerous opponent as Cara had turned out to be, she didn't have to.

But she was no mere Nightsister. She was The Amalgam.

She was the union of the minds of dozens upon dozens of evil witches. Some existed nowadays as a fragment of consciousness. Some were genuine, if subdued minds, others barely echoes of the vicious, psychopathic animals they had been in life.

This union of witches refused to fall at the hands of a cyborg.

But direct offense would not do. As Sidious himself had demonstrated before re-enacting the last five minutes of Yojimbo with The Jedi Council, sometimes, it is best to let the attack come to you.

The Amalgam let Cara crash into her and then used her single deadliest power, one she took ecstatic pleasure in using and was in fact addicted to using due to how quickly her alchemized bodies decay. It was the one power that she had refrained from using during the entire fight. She had kept it in reserve, just in case.

She concentrated, powering herself with the dark nexus of the arena as well as pure, unrestrained hatred of her opponent, taking advantage of her physiology as well so that when Cara crashed into her, her torso would stretch out trying to latch onto Cara by the back as her body became a roiling wriggling, disfigured mass as she was crashed into, all to restrain Cara. Impacting into the Amalgam was like xrashing into a balloon with rats.

Her Life Drain abilities were top notch. Very very few had the spiritual will or the strength in the Force to resist. It worked at a distance, but much better on physical contact. Poor Cara. If only she had known.

She didn't intend to take much. Just three months worth of life. Enough to heal her wounds half way, keep herself upright, and hopefully weaken Cara so much from the shock that she really would stay down and the Amalgam declared the victor by default.

If it failed, then The Amalgam would be literally running on fumes. She concentrated the will of herself and the multitude of evil people within her to try and make certain any spiritual resistance Cara could put up would quickly be crushed.

She threw all her will into it, just to take the small amount necessary to keep going. She had a feeling this was an all or nothing move on both their parts.

But The Amalgam swam in the Dark Side. Cara was awash in Electronics.

The Dark Side was stronger than any mere circuit.

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Tag: AMCO​

---

The spear hovered triumphantly -- as triumphantly as a spear could -- above the seemingly defeated sorcerer. Dorian seemed to relax slightly. He'd won, right? No, something was off. He felt the familiar tug of the Force in his mind, his danger sense tingling at first before that tingle turned to something more like a roar. He saw the eyes of his opponent widen as they fixed on something behind him. Dorian didn't have time to turn and face his attacker, nor turn to counter or block. So he guessed.

Adrian's eyes were locked onto something behind him to his right, so Dorian quickly dived left and rolled away. The smoke knight hadn't been slowed at all by Adrian's faltering concentration, but its agility was evaporating as quickly as it was. The trail of dust and energy it left behind seared Dorian's leg, and he roared out in pain. The summoned warrior's punch struck the air and it tumbled away. Its head raised one last time to look at Dorian, but with a flick of his hand its helmet was shattered by a flash of crimson.

The gladiator clutched his leg, but managed to pull himself into a sitting position, staring at Adrian. "Yield!" Dorian cried. He didn't have the strength to keep going, but the sorcerer's conviction seemed to pale in in comparison to Dorian's -- at least, from his point of view. He wouldn't give up in this tournament.

 

[AMCO]

Fething feth, that hurt. He had been about to surrender when his last remaining Smoke Knight had rushed the gladiator - then for a moment, he thought he had won, but alas, such was not to be.

Barely managing to push himself up into sitting position to match Dorian's, a wry smirk made its way back onto his features.

"You'd... like to yield? How nice... of you."

Chuckling dryly, then wincing as that caused pain to lance through his chest, he shook his head. He could surrender. He wanted to surrender. Truth be told, he didn't care all that much about winning this tournament - but he did care about his reputation. Besides, he had experienced far worse, but Force had it been a long time since he'd last been hurt. Years, even?

His head hurt, his body hurt, and he didn't think had he much left to give. Hell, he doubted he'd be able to get to his feet unassisted.

This clearly wasn't the time for creativity.

Grimacing with concentrating, his right arm snaked forward, lightning arcing forth from the unnatural flesh towards his opponent - at the same time, he pointed his left towards the spear. He should be able to hold it back for a second or two if push came to shove. It might be enough.

If not? He'd go down fighting - better PR, you see.

Dorian Sicarrio​

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Tag: AMCO​

---

So this was all it came down to -- no tricks, just force and Force to end this fight. Adrian Vandiir was likely one of the toughest opponents that had had the misfortune of meeting Dorian in the ring. Not because he was physically dangerous. No, definitely not that. But his resolve and strength, his pride... he was dangerous, and for a moment Dorian wondered if he had made an true enemy here.

Perhaps not. This last barrage was one of desperation, to save face even in the face of defeat. Here, Dorian wasn't the real enemy, but rather a feeling. Adrian was looking to defeat the notion that he was not every bit the fighter he'd been chalked up to be.

There was no creativity in his attack. His opponent seemed to telegraph his next move for an eternity in Dorian's eyes -- as the lightning began to arc towards him, his spear had already come to his defense. It blocked the deadly flashes of electricity, the enchanted weapon seeming to absorb the energy or disperse it nearby. Dorian held his hands up, as if gripping his spear, and pushed forward. His strength against Adrian's. The air crackled with the static, and the gladiator was almost blinded by the energy, but despite the danger one thing would stand out to his opponent.

Dorian was smiling.

It wasn't like his earlier smiles; those had been to please the crowd, to show his confidence. But now, for whatever reason, he was smiling genuinely to Adrian. His mouth opened and he spoke, but over the sound of the Force lightning clashing against his spear, none could hear his words.

He poured every ounce of his remaining strength, the spear breaking the lightning like the tides against a sea wall as it pushed towards the sorcerer. He would not stop until it was finally close enough to Adrian or he ran out of strength -- and when Adrian faltered, the spear would be there to strike and knock him down for the last time today.

 

[AMCO]

The lightning arced forth with blinding speed - but his opponent was faster.

He had been prepared for the spear to strike at him, but in his fatigue he had not expected it to be moved to Dorian's defence. He should have. He would, if they ever came face to face under less friendly circumstances.

The spear, enchanted as it was, seemed to devour the energy. He compensated by shifting into pure telekinetic force, his right arm literally boiling as its true purpose as a boost to his powers was revealed for all to see - but the spear belonged to his opponent, not him, and it would take a miracle for him to overcome him will against will, unless the other man was more tired than he looked.

Though his face was strained by concentration, he still managed to push out a terse statement, even as his strength fled his body.

"Well played."

(OOC: Feel free to call a hit and wrap this up, crowd cheering and all! It's been fun.)
Dorian Sicarrio​

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Tag: AMCO​

---

For once, Dorian didn't make a show of the final blow.

The spear spun rapidly, slicing through the barrage of Force energy sent by the sorcerer. Both of them had been holding back at the start, but Dorian had brought out his ace just a little earlier and managed to score some solid damage. It was too late for Adrian to reveal his enchanted arm; the momentum of Dorian's weapon kept it moving even with the additional pressure against it.

Finally the crimson lance broke through, first slamming into Adrian's arm to knock it to the side. It continued the spin, shifting just barely as the blunt end swung at blinding speed towards his temple. Across to him, Dorian had struggled to his feet, relying heavily on his right leg, the other one seared by the electricity from the earlier smoke knight. His focused stayed on his opponent, though, as his weapon slammed into Adrian's head, knocking him to the arena floor.

"You fought well." That was one of the highest compliments the man had ever bestowed on another. Dorian paused for a moment, then bowed his head. "Thank you, Adrian." Unless the Sith had seen the vision he'd caused, he probably wouldn't know what Dorian was thanking him for. He didn't much mind.

The gladiator limped over to his now-unconscious opponent, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him to the arena's exit. The spear followed loyally.

This had been one of the most difficult fights he'd ever had -- it reminded Dorian that challenge brought change. Now, he just needed to figure out how he was going to change after all this.

 

[Cara Dorniarn]

She slammed into the The Amalgam grappling what she met in a steel grip. However, the body under her grasp squirmed and stretched, the Shi'ido elongating herself into a writhing mass of flesh. Instead of trapping her opponent Cara was the one restrained. She cursed between her teeth.

Heels dug into the stone floor as she attempted to pull away, the whining of compromised cybernetics muffled by mingling flesh. She felt the shift as the Amalgam wrapped around her back and she expected a melee attack. Arms restrained, Cara burned the last reserves of the Force.

As she shifted the stone beneath their feet she felt it. It was a piercing cold that bypassed her armor and through both skin and metal. It infiltrated her senses, replacing the fire with a swelling void. The stone under their feet was planned to sweep to the left, but under the startling sensation the ground sheered in many directions, causing fissures to split their spot in the arena.

Cara pulled back, stumbling over the sliding debris. She was free from the grasp. She was also down for the count. The furnace had been depleted, the theft of life proving to tax the resolve she had fed the inner flame. The crucible burn of her eyes cooled as she fell, and she landed on her back with a crunching thud.

An ID10 Seeker's binary squeal was muted by the crowd's roaring cheers. The unit buzzed through the throngs of people, dropping into the arena and hovering toward to its master's body. It backpedaled when near The Amalgam, making a wider circle to not engage the creature. It hovered mere inches over Cara's shoulder, trilling in a concerned tone.

Cara drew a haggard breath, coughing from the dust that had been kicked up and the damage she'd taken. She couldn't lift an arm, or anything for that matter. She was spent.

"That's that. Mar--" she wrestled back a cough, "Mark everything...upload. Label it under "I especially hate this"."

Unable to draw enough strength Cara merely laid there on the fractured ground. She felt drying blood on her face and noticed she couldn't see out of her left eye. The last trick the Amalgam pulled left her feeling hollow and numb. She would have been incensed if the power to muster that anger hadn't been nonexistent.

"I must admit," her words were directed to the Amalgam, "you have garnered... my complete disdain. If we meet again...," Another tired breath, "I do hope we may have a round two." It was said without any malice, spoken in a factual and passionless tone. The fight was over.


(OOC: SO sorry for the delay. With everything going on I had honestly forgotten about this, and thanks to Adrian for the reminder. Thank you for the match!)

 

[The Amalgam]

The Amalgam's near rotting flesh shuddered in delight at the small amount of life Force ripped from Cara Dorniarn . Her flesh, while not losing its slimy, withered appearance, did seal up most of its more severe wounds, including regrowing her arm. But she was still bleeding white blood in a lot of areas as she rose from the ground, recovering. But she would need to feed again soon to stave off the terminal rot.

Cara herself was in no further capacity to fight. However, ever the Dark Evangelist, The Amalgam never wasted an opportunity to drive a soul further to The Bogan. Cara had some potential--she had actually pushed the Amalgam to get clever during this bout.

"Garnering disdain frome someone is always lovely. You're actually not bad. I'm in the business of showing the secrets of the Darkness...your soul could look even better with the Dark if only you went further ...look at it this way, if we ever do have that second round, it'll be even more of a prizefighter bout."


With that the beast limped out of the arena, the first order of business to find a household to break into.

A nice full one, with plenty of people to torment and drain.