Here We Are Now, Entertain Us [Amalea]

[Doc]

Doc slid a look at ‘Viper’ and then Lizzie, and then rubbed his chin, to help mask the amusement he got from the sight of a daintily and impeccably dressed Lizzie trash talking with Viper. Giving Viper an amicable smile, “That’s my..” He also most slipped up, “.. bet too. On the girl.”

Viper smugly laughed, “Fine I will take your money too. Two Gs on the MAN. We got a deal?”

Doc nodded, “Oh do we have a deal?” He briefly looked at Lizzie with a grin, before turning his attention back to Viper, “We have a ******* deal.”

Just as they agreed to the bet, the fight was initiated. Doc gripped the fencing with his fingers, and called out to Az, “Die like a ****** Az! Go for the jewels Kid!”

The words were barely out of his mouth, as Az struck Amalea, Doc winced, but he quickly rallied when Amalea gave it right to him. “that’s it Kid.. don’t take any **** from him!”

[Azraeth]

There was a brief moment when Az followed Amalea’s gaze, and took in the sight of Liz - who he had met a few times in the past. Town hall meeting. Halloween party. Humanity week. He also vaguely remembered her name. Someone associated with one of the initial incarnations of the Council perhaps? It had been years, and most of the details were honestly sketchy because of what a fiasco that had turned out to be. He had put time and distance between himself and the relative debacle which had been the fledgeling vampire community’s first attempts at creating a sense of order from chaos. But what drew the vampire’s attention was Doc’s shirt. His gaze narrowed some. What? He’d picked up on the two of them getting closer, but he hadn’t pressed, because he figured Lea would talk to him about it, if necessary, when she was ready.

But that was something for Future Az to be curious about. His curse took root in Amalea as soon as he cast it. The way she responded - without the harrowing agony that some might have felt, betrayed Amalea as more of a warrior than she let on, or as having a pain tolerance the likes of which would have put anyone to shame. Az knew first hand that having your blood poisoned hurt like a *****. And this was proved to him once again when Amalea decided that she was going to mirror his move back at him. The Mystic actually saw it coming, and tried to backstep as if he could dodge it. But all of a sudden, pain hit him like a hammer hitting a nail. He very nearly doubled over. Had he been human, he probably would have been bent over, emptying the contents of his guts onto the ground. As it was, blood bubbled up and trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Alright. So it was game on. He pressed closer, catching Amalea by her arm. His palms burned so hot that they seemed to glow, and she caught fire, the burns marring skin that otherwise would have been difficult to find flaw with. Of course, the burns themselves would disappear with time. But no sooner had he gripped her arm than he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. He just barely saw the forming of dark shadows which seemed to coalesce and thicken before suddenly stabbing in his direction. He let go and dodged back a step, moving so quickly that he wasn’t even a blur. It looked as if he was there one second and on the other side of the arena the next.

Impressive. Amalea had the wherewithal to cast whilst in pain and being attacked. For a moment, he sized her up. Well. The last one had worked so well...why not give her a matching mark on the other arm? He ran towards her once more, his fingers burning like red iron, but he was met with what felt like a wall of pure energy. She had resisted his attack, and Az was legitimately taken aback for a moment. It was rare for anyone to have the kind of mystical knowledge required to work competently with the Mystic’s own. But he didn’t really have time to react because no sooner did she repel his spell than her foot was coming right for his face. His eyes widened.

CRACK!

“DID YOU JUST KICK ME IN THE HEAD?!” The tension broke for a single moment as he laughed, stumbling back. Blood raced down his face from a ruined nose and he stared at Lea with those reptilian eyes, a hand lifted as he held a hand up, one finger lifted skyward as if to say ‘pause!’ So he could get the laughter out of his system. The adrenaline and humor was enough to help him ignore the pain. “****. You’re amazing.” He said. And then he steadied himself. Okay. Back into fight mode.

He needed to start being smarter. The poison had been to try and wear Lea down more quickly. The fire had been to actually begin spilling her blood...but the vampire was getting nowhere fast if he didn’t get his head in the game. His first move was to cut Amalea off from her own powers, which would hopefully stop him from getting blindsided by those moving shadows and prevent her from being able to heal herself up mid-fight. Move two was defensive as well. Rather than pull a weapon, he instead focused his energy on restoring some of what he’d already lost.

But it seemed that forcing Lea’s hand was not the benefit Az had hoped it would be with the relic on his chest allowing him to essentially go briefly incorporeal for a few seconds at a time. A few seconds that he did not use well, as realized when he saw Amalea take aim and fire off a shot. He felt the bullet rip through his throat. Blood began to gush down his chest and back, over his arm. HIs hands were still sizzling bright and ready to brand someone, so he thought it best to make good use of them. He drew close, only to feel another bullet tear through his leg. He would have reached for his own gun, but that would have been dangerous with his hands in the state that they were, and he wasn’t about to waste the mystical energy. So when he finally found his mark, he glanced down to assess the damage.

Clean through the muscle.

He barely even registered it honestly. Too much was going on.

And while he was there, he figured he might as well take a crack at her marksmanship as well. His reserves were deep, and he could pull out a lot of magic, but even still, they were beginning to run low. He blinded her with his next spell, but it seemed that no sooner had he cast it, and she was on him, swinging wide with her blade, gun still in the other hand. He caught the sharp metal with his face and felt it tear through his slitted eye, giving it another gouge - this time one that was far less natural.

The vampire hissed in pain and he reeled back. ****. He was on the defensive again and he knew it. He needed some good old fashioned field medic magic, and when he fell back, he dropped a hand to the wound on his leg. It immediately began to repair itself, flesh stitching together. He couldn’t afford to be limping. Not when Amalea moved like a viper, striking relentlessly again and again and again. And losing half of his vision essentially put them right back on an even playing field with her as far as aim went, which indicated to Az that Amalea was very quick on her feet, fast to make up for any capacity of hers that was diminished and return in kind. He realized just how hard it was to take a shot with one eye when he squeezed off a round of bullets, all of which seemed to do absolutely nothing.

Thankfully, her own shots didn’t fair much better. And for a few golden seconds, the Mystic wondered if it was going to devolve into two blind people wildly firing bullets at each other like some sort of geriatric warzone.

And he was losing blood fast. Which meant that finding his way into an offensive position was going to be tricky. He decided to remain silent, and let his magic do its work, blood beginning to replenish in his system as he watched her draw near. He only broke from his spot at the last possible moment, racing right past the redhead, twisting as he did, so he could fire a shot into her back. That’s when things began to look up, because no sooner did he somersault through the air and land on his feet with some distance between them, than she was firing at him again. Even in the haze of impaired vision, he was able to twist his body out of the way just in time, the bullets colliding with the wall behind him and nearly ricocheting into the crowd.

Right. He was almost back to 100%. Just a little bit more time for his blood to replenish and he could make his move.

Of course, why would Amalea have given him that kind of time? He saw her drawing close again, and fired off a round which only seemed to graze her leg. Which. He felt was pretty good considering the situation. Except that her gun lifted and she pulled the trigger. It didn’t register at all what had happened at first. He looked down to try and find a wound on his body, but there wasn’t one. That was when redness flooded overy his only usable eye and he blinked rapidly. His hand lifted. There was a hole in his head. He could have sworn that hadn’t been there before. What a silly place to put a hole.

There was a gun in his hand. He stared at it for a moment. What was he do--oh right. Fighting. He tried to focus on his target. And for a few moments the two of them just exchanged bullets. Well. It was more like Az fired at her, and the bullets just barely touched her, and he took several. One blasted through his thigh. One ripped through his neck, this time smashing his voice box on the way out. He gurgled rather than screamed. The next one punched through his chest. His heart was cut in two by a bullet hole and he was slammed back *** first into the ground. He was dazed and their little gift exchange had almost certainly done Amalea more favors than him. So he tossed the gun to one side. The ******* thing was doing him no good. Time to use the sword. So he ripped it sheath and all from his belt. He used it to bring himself up to stand and then whipped the cold metal free of its scabbard.

He wobbled.

And then he ran at her. It was like he could feel his intelligence dripping out of him the way his blood did. He wanted to fight with more elegance. With more grace. Hard to do that blinded and half mad with brain damage. He was a child swinging his toy sword wildly. And he knew it.

And he suspected Amalea knew it. He hacked at her and she slid out of the way.

BLAM!

Another bullet to the head. Another hole where it didn’t belong. This time it was closer range so the metal didn’t bounce around inside of his skull. Instead, it tore through the barrier of his bones and exploded forcefully to shower the area behind him in gray and red. He faltered. He stumbled back. And then he was swinging again. This time, Lea lifted her arm to block and he was able to slice her cleanly. It was a good thing she’d gotten rid of that jacket before. Funny the things one focused on in that kind of situation.

He went to follow through on his strike, which took him a few steps past Amalea. Another bullet. This time it tore through his back. By this point the adrenaline was wearing off and the pain was beginning to set in. Part of the problem was that there were just so many damn wounds. What little he could see was faded around the edges, like his vision was going to begin to fail him. And all of the colors were wrong. Amalea’s hair was green, and her skin looked as if someone had painted it in a comic panel. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for Az’s survival instinct kicking in, he probably would have stopped the fight then and there and just wandered off, because he could have sworn he saw the sunlight dancing across the ground in the distance and he wanted to go lay in it for the first time in years. Something about that was...wrong. He couldn’t figure out exactly what though.

It was probably for the best that the higher functioning aspects of the Mystic’s mind were beginning to shut down, because it meant he could focus. Well. As much as possible. He whirled around to face her. Or he was pretty sure he was facing her. He could see a hazy shadow. His blade swung once more, but it never landed. There was that boom of the cannon in her hands once more. But no pain. The vampire winced anyway, and his blade moved instinctively in the direction the gunfire had come from. Nothing again. It was like she was made of nothing but mist and air. And he? He was very real.

His senses were failing him in more way than one, because he didn’t even hear it when the gun fired again and a bullet tore right through his leg. The smell of gunpowder and the mixture of their blood in the air was almost overwhelming. His hunger was rising. Human blood. It was right there. So close. He needed it to survive. He was so badly injured...he just needed a little blood.

His mouth watered, and he swung once more. There was a fresh, hot fountain of that delicious scent. He could almost taste the copper on his tongue. He went to bite, leaning closer.

BLAM!

His hearing was back. The bullet in his head must have moved around. And there was fresh pain in his other leg.

Things were getting darker with every passing moment. He suddenly glanced to the crowd around him. He was looking for something. He wasn’t sure what. He had no clue. But it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, because he couldn’t really see anything, and what was really there...was not what played out inside of his brain.

He had a little more fight left in him though. He never had been a quitter, and that was true all of the way to death. He’d seen the Shadow Realm enough times to not be afraid of it.

BLAM!

One last time.

He didn’t feel this one either.

What he did feel was the bracing smack of his back against the ground. He felt his sword slip out of his hand. Blood rushed from the fresh, third wound in his head. It puddled under him.

Ding ding.

The fight was over. Amalea had won.

Az's eyes were vacant.

And darkness consumed him.

[Elizabeth]

Elizabeth had not expected Charles to take part in the bet with Viper, but when he did, who he bet upon was no surprise to the woman. Her eyes moved off Charles, to the gentleman besides her, to whom she smiled to. "You could end up a very rich person tonight, or..very poor." Two thousand might be a lot to some people, but to a successful business woman and hacker...not so much.

Her eyes moved off the 'ring' area, to where Doc was, and she tipped her head in amusement. Charles had such an expressive way about him, even if it could be seen as violent or crude to some. And while that may be true, the fact the man was so expressive also showed that he could, at times, be passionate. "Wait...I thought no one was going to die..." Elizabeth said, frowning. What if Amalea actually lost? Could she die?

But before she could get any real answers, the fight started, and all Elizabeth could do was hope that Doc was just lost in the moment, and being his usual passionate self.

[Amalea]

She hadn’t really been surprised when his gaze seemed to be drawn to Doc’s shirt. He was about catching small details that most would overlook. It was one of the reasons she had hired him with the intention of grooming him to take the position of her second in command. He had a good head on his shoulders and she knew he’d be good there, plus he would bring an unique perspective that would be beneficial. She wouldn’t be astonished later if he cornered her to ask about the shirt. Really, she’d be more concerned if he didn’t. Either way, she’d be having a discussion with him and Flynn later.

For now, though, her entire focus was the man in front of her and their battle. Although she was careful not to let it show, the poisoning he had focused upon her hurt like a *****. It was part of the reason she had planned to make it her opener; the other reason was to help balance the field and hopefully make him a bit more susceptible to injury. Of course, returning the pain in kind was just an added bonus. A small, satisfied grin tugged at her lips as she noticed the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. She had to give him credit given he was still standing; she just hoped he hadn’t learnt that level of pain tolerance the same way she had. She wouldn’t wish those lessons on anyone.

She barely had time to blink before he was on her; his hands grabbing her arm and setting it on fire. The blood thief hissed in pain calling up the shadows to attack on her behalf. It didn’t really matter to her if they were successful; the intent was to force him to release his painful grip. Eyeing him warily as he moved out of the way with what seemed to be practiced ease, she wondered just how much burn cream she was going to need later to tame her new burns. Hell. There was also the question of whether or not if such remedy would even be beneficial on a mystical burn. One thing was certain; she was going to lovingly stab him later if she ended up with some odd scarring that didn’t disappear over time. She wasn’t a peacock of any sort, though.

Side-stepping around the arena a bit, she kept both eyes on her opponent waiting to see what his next move would be. She knew she could just attempt to unleash non-stop attacks but there was no fun in that; she wanted a challenge and it seemed like she was going to get her wish. His run towards her didn’t go unnoticed, particularly since his fingers were glowing that same inferno red that had just caused the burns she was sporting. There was no way she was going to stand there and take that again. He was a bit nuts to even try if he thought she’d willingly be afflicted again.

Given the success of her distraction technique, the blood thief figured it couldn’t hurt to try it again. Worse case, she missed again and ended up with another burn, but it was worth a shot if it meant not being touched with those fingers of fire. She charged at him with every intention of plowing into him and knocking him off balance enough to thwart his attack. Her eyes widened a bit when she realized he wasn’t able to get close enough to touch her; she wasn’t quite sure how that had been managed, however. With the distraction no longer needed, the red-head made the split second decision to attempt a leap frog-inspired jump over the man. The woman had forgotten one key bit of information – she was a good foot shorter than the vampire. She had gotten a good bit of air but still was a bit short of clearing him entirely; a fact that was punctuated with a loud crack as her foot connected his head.

She winced at the sound as she hit the floor, tumbling into an upright position quickly, just in case he tried to retaliate immediately. He was a bit of a mess with the blood flowing from his obviously broken nose. The laughter and exclamation hadn’t been what she had expected; she found herself giggling as she shook her head. ”NOT ON PURPOSE!” It was a true statement; she hadn’t had any intention of kicking him. A knee to the groin would have sufficed if she really wanted to get some sort of kick in, though she suspected Flynn would have protested that move later. Not that she was looking to mutilate the vampire in any way. Noting the gesture for a pause, she smiled and acknowledged it with a nod.

”Why, thanks.” Yes, she was being cheeky with her reply. It had been a lucky, or unlucky, she supposed depending on how one looked at it, maneuver. Nothing more or less; it certainly couldn’t be attributed to skill. While the mystic recouped his bearings, the blood thief considered her next couple moves. She could take a leaf out of his book and give him a matching burn though she suspected he would be wary of such a move. He had already proven he was alert for moving shadows, so using them to attack again was out. Depending on his next move, she had settled on one of two paths – blinding or stabbing.

Her hand was forced though as she found herself unable to call upon her mystical powers. Her eyes narrowed at the vampire. Jerk. He must have mind blocked her. Awesome. There was no way she was dragging this fight out for an hour just so the block could lapse. Weapon it was. That was going to be interesting given she hadn’t failed to notice the silver reliquary in its place of honor. A challenge was a challenge, though a change in weapon was in order. It would be folly to get within his arm’s reach now. Slipping her gun from its holster, she waited till she had a decent shot before gently squeezing the trigger.

****. That had landed a bit higher than where she had been aiming. Maybe a day of target practicing was in order after this. Well at least she hadn’t missed completely. Blood was blood; she idly hoped he wasn’t too attached to that shirt or those pants at this rate. Eyes narrowed as she saw his glowing hands trying to reach her again. ****. That. She knew there wasn’t any likelihood of him being deterred from his path unless he was put out of the fight completely. Unless she was incredibly lucky, that wasn’t going to happen so quickly so she settled for the next best thing. She shot him in the leg. Not that it seemed to slow him down enough for her to avoid those glowing embers that passed for hands. Good Goddess that hurt. Clearly he was a pyromaniac or he’d been watching The Hunger Games for inspiration. She supposed she couldn’t discount his playlist as the culprit. Next time she had to fight him, she was going to bribe Flynn to hide everything but the Disney movies. Like Bambi. That shouldn’t give him too many ideas. She hoped.

She was going to open with a mind block of her own the next time, she decided as her vision began to fade and disappear completely. There was no way she was going to try to shoot blindly. Goddess knew with her luck she was more likely to hit the spectators than her mark. Dagger it was. Her ears perked listening for a hint of his location before she pounced, swinging upwards. She met resistance so she’d definitely hit something; given the hiss she heard, she’d guess she’d been successful in getting her blade into the vampire. Either that or into some random stranger which would be awkward.

Her eyes widened as she heard shots. Jerk. Shooting at her when she couldn’t see; thankfully all seemed to miss her if the lack of pain was any indication. Two could play that game. Pointing her firearm in the rough direction the bullets had come from, she squeezed off several rounds before lunging forward to follow up with a slash of her dagger. As the knife slid easily, the red-head knew she had missed there. The shots were a bit harder to determine. Likely, they too had missed given she’d been shooting in the same direction she had lunged.

The pain radiating from her back seemed to serve to confirm she had missed her mark while he found his. He’d shot her in the back! In. The. Back. Asshole. She pivoted quickly, squeezing off another spread of bullets with a growl. This entire being blind thing was a *****. It was impossible to tell if she was hitting her mark without any sort of audial clue that the mystic was in a fresh round of pain. Which given everything would be music to her ears. If her memory served correctly, it would hopefully begin to wear off shortly, but she wasn’t about to stand idly until then. At the very least, shooting and missing would keep him on his toes even if it didn’t make him bleed.

Another shot rang through the pit, her hiss of pain masked by the roaring crowd. Damnit that was going to leave a mark. She winced as she took a small test step forward. Yup. That was going to be an issue. Her eyes narrowed as her vision went from black to grey though not enough to be of any real use though at least now she could potentially make out shapes. Maybe. It might just be a figment of her imagination; she wasn’t about to discount that possibility. She squinted in attempts to determine if she was seeing the outline of a person or if she was just going crazy. She couldn’t tell. Oh well. Time to shoot it anyway. She aimed carefully – or at least she hoped she had – and let loose the bullet. It looked as though the shape was turning colors. Maybe. Hopefully.

Another bullet in her leg was repayed with one in his thigh. Perhaps it was to his benefit her sight was currently ****; otherwise she may have aimed a little higher and over. Though, maybe not; she didn’t want to anger Flynn with that wound but it was a tempting thought. She managed to side step one of the incoming projectiles before another found her leg again. She knew she was on the shorter side, but Goddess, couldn’t he aim higher? Or was he making a silent short joke? Whichever it was, it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It was just idle curiosity at this point.

The shapes were slightly more defined now; she aimed upward towards where she thought his head should be. A slight squeeze of the trigger sent the bullet off to visit her target. A slight smile of satisfaction tugged at her lips as she heard the gurgle. So she had been a bit low in her aim, but it still sounded like she had hit fairly high; throat by the sound. She took a step the right as he raised his own weapon and shot at her. Or at least she thought he had. It didn’t matter as she aimed a little lower this time. She could have cheered as he landed *** first on the ground with a freely bleeding wound in his chest. Bullseye!

She had perfected the combo of heart and head shots in the last battle she’d been in defending the Dragon’s territory. Those battles were always great for trying new things and honing her skills; she was just amazed it worked as well in an one on one battle. She slowly backed away from the prone mystic to allow his time to recover and regain his footing.

To Be Continued...

[Amalea]

She was a patient woman. There was certain to be some in the crowd yelling for her to end it while he was down. She could but she had signed up for a challenge and he wasn’t out of it, yet. A good deal of credit had to be given to the mystic for perseverance though she really hadn’t expected any less. Neither was the type to give up without a fight. It just wasn’t who they were. A careful eye was kept on the male as she ejected the magazine from her gun, swapping it for a fresh one. No sense in tempting fate.

Her knife twirled in her hand as the mystic used his own blade as a cane to aid his ascent from the floor. She hadn’t been too surprised when he had discarded his firearm in favor of the long, sharp steel. With his wounds, accurate aiming would have been a *****. At least with the sword, a wild swing was more likely to do some sort of damage, even if it just a cut. Those still stung and enough of them would be hazardous. She had to admit at being rather impressed at the way he charged at her even if he seemed to be hacking and slashing with wild abandonment.

Slipping out of sword’s reach, she carefully aimed and squeezed the trigger. Her eyes widened at the impressive splatter pattern that now decorated the pit behind the vampire. ****. Pay attention woman. Her momentary lapse in attention had allowed him to swing that sword at her. She knew she didn’t have time to move out of the way, so an arm block was going to have to do. It wasn’t the brightest of ideas, but better her left arm than her chest or neck, she supposed. ****. That stung more than she expected. It was a good thing she was wearing a tank top or she’d be dealing with a flapping sleeve about now.

Oh. Hey, she could finally see colors and more defined shapes. The whole fuzzy image thing had been getting annoying. She’d have to decide later if being completely blind was worse though. Right now she had an injured, desperate vampire to deal with. The flash of steel beside her caught her attention causing her to pivot in spot and fire off a shot. Ok, so she had thought he was facing her, but at least now they were even in the ‘shooting in the back’ department. Honestly, he was starting to look like some odd version of Swiss cheese. A leaking, blood covered variety, but a variation nonetheless.

Sliding out of sword reach once again, she sent off another bullet, cursing quietly as it missed. Well, to be fair, she couldn’t tell if it had missed or if it had just gone through an existing hole. At this point, it was hard to tell. She had to give the man lots of credit; she wasn’t sure how he was still standing currently. Never mind swinging around that good-sized sword of his. Good goddess the man was stubborn which was a good thing in the red-head’s mind. It didn’t stop her from putting a bullet in his leg again.

She figured she’d done enough damage to his head and chest that she didn’t need to resort to shooting him there to get him to stay put. Taking out a leg or two was just as good. That hadn’t worked as planned given the fresh pain shooting up her right arm this time. Damnit. The man was a menace with the blade. A quick glance at it told the blood thief she was now sporting matching wounds on each arm. Shaking her head in amusement, she quickly shot him in the other leg.

Christ. How the hell was he still standing? Perhaps it was the Dragon in him. Maybe he was secretly part cockroach. Whatever it was was damn annoying. Her eyes widened as he swung at her again though she was able to slide out of its path thanks to the blood coated ground. Yep. Definitely a cockroach. Had to be to be able to do that. A single look at the male told her it was time to end it. A single bullet into the head did the trick, though she hadn’t been keen to do it. At least he was blissfully unconscious now.

Looking up into the crowd, her eyes sought out Flynn. A quick, quiet gesture invited the Paladin down into the arena now that the fight was over. A glare at the guard would ensure the man was allowed entry. The crowd was quite loud and she could hear shouts of congratulations, but at the moment, she was more concerned with seeing her brother got on his way home to recover.