Post by Deceit *Drinker of Jawa-Juice* on Sept 15, 2010 16:06:34 GMT -5
Righto! So this is a duel between two of my very own characters, Graffion Maruhuey and Strae Arst. Of course, it's not judged by any pro's or anything. Here's how it works, Four Rounds of Combat, each player gets a single post each round. After four rounds, a victor is crowned, and on the fifth post, one must die. ( THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE! )
So, I ask of any wonderful readers, that they please read, review, and then Vote on whom should be the victor! To vote, simply Post here who you think should win. ( Please, base it off of either A.) an honest assessment of the two combatants skills. B.) How well written either of the two combatants posts were [despite the fact that both combatants were authored by the same person] and do NOT base it off of simply who you like more. ) Thank you very much! After three-five votes, we shall determine the victor! So here goes!
:::A links to our combatants profiles:::
Graffion Maruhuey---http://swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=4334
Vs.
Strae Arhst---http://swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=4437
:::::::::::
Battle One Round One
First Post Goes to:::::Strae Arhst
Setting: This duel shall take place in the Midnight streets of Theed upon the planet Naboo.
Rounds: 4 ( Victor gains a Fifth post; the Coup De Grace. )
Let the Battle Begin~!
::::::
Round One
Strae and her party casually walked down the streets of Theed, well lit by the brilliant midnight sky. Stars and bright moon outlined the entire street in a luminescent aura, except for beneath the banisters and buildings, where dark shadows had taken root. The silent night was inconspicuous, and the peaceful city of Theed provided the perfect throne of naivity for the deal that Strae had planned.
She was on this planet to set free a smuggler who'd been imprisoned by the local authorities. Tonight, she and her entourage would meet with their contact for further information on the mission. Behind Strae were four trained spies, all dressed in black and perfectly capable to kill any threat. Needless to say, Strae was confident that no matter what happened in this meeting she would come out the victor, as she always did.
Passing by a theatre of some kind, it's great overpass held up by marble pillars, Strae saw her contact, leaning against the wall, a robe latched over his shoulders and shrouding his whole body. He was in the moonlight, but stuck close to the shadows that clung tightly underneath the entry way to the theatre. His left arm hung limply, gently blending into the shadows to become invisible.
Strae glanced at the darkness, wary of ambush. She was no stranger herself to the way of the shadows, none of her troop was, but she always leaned towards the side of caution. Far too many clumsy fools had been taken out by making stupid mistakes. She did a quick inventory check.
She was wearing a dark dress-robe that hung loosely over her body. There were many folds throughout the robe. Two secret sleeve pockets held sharp daggers, which she had some knowledge in the use of, and underneath her dress robe, there were tight black clothes, perfect for running about in the night. Around her waist, a belt with two blaster pistols and a pair of fine grenades. Finally, as if the rest weren't enough, she wore around her ankles two straps with hold-out blasters, just in case of super emergency. Not to mention that her boots also doubled as a switch-blade, coming out from the toe.
And then there was her hat. A wide brimmed hat with ridiculous plumage rising up above it. She moved with a slight swagger, though still alert. Her spies clustered around her, and they approached within five feet of the target, "Hajo Mameiko?" She asked.
~*~
Graffion Maruhuey had been lying in wait for a good thirty minutes. The last two hours been spent in preparation for this very moment. Strae, a hated enemy of his for quite some time, was on the approach, and there he was leaning against a pillar in the shadows, just watching. He could feel a great excitedness surge through his entire body at her approach, he boots clicking loudly at first, but going silent as she came closer. A parlor trick; boots that were mechanically designed to make noise when she wanted, but could simply be turned off, and were naturally silent.
Her troope was ready and alert. Good, then it would be all the more glorious a battle.
Graffion was clad in his common black garbe, simple clothes with no real tricks, save for their tendency to hide his form neatly in the shadows. He was less a creature of gadgets and more a creature of instinct and skill. He had merely the scimitar at his belt, and the punch-guns on his wrist, which were essentially small guns that activated when they punched against something, with a revolving chamber holding three bullets on each wrist.
Strae came to a halt, her group only a few feet away from the contact who leaned against the wall. "Hajo Mameiko?" She asked, thinking that who she would be meeting.
Hajo's limp arm suddenly stiffened as he looked up. Not a Hajo. It was a machine, and as it looked up the vision sensors glowed red, glaring out at the ones who called it's name. 'Hajo' had one, and only one, program; upon hearing it's name it was to turn absolutely hostile.
It lifted it's arm from out of the shadows and the Wookie bowcaster in it's arms suddenly leapt out from the shadows, already forming a green bolt as it charged up. It's arm straightened out, and the bowcaster was facing Strae, only inches from her pretty face. It wasn't fully charged, but at this distance, it hardly needed to be.
Quick witted Strae tossed herself rapidly aside, and the bolt exploded the head of the spy who had been unfortunately standing directly behind her. His head was torn from his body and would further explode later as the bolt hit the wall on the other side of the street. Likewise, his body, while flying back a comparatively shorter distance, also took more damage as it collided with the ground, which was hard stone.
However, to the credit of the spies, the droid was littered with blaster shots, face, body, and legs, long before the head or body had taken these damages. To Graffion's credit, he was already inches away from the other spies at this same time.
The first spy had hardly the time to look over as his fist collided heavily with the side of his fist. The trigger system was activated, and Graffion's punch-gun ignited, the bullet blasting it's way through it's opponent. Blood shot over the first spies unfortunate friends.
The second and third spies had turned to see the unfortunate fate of their comrade. One is at least relieved in the solace that they suffered for only a minimal amount of despair in the few short moments that it took Graffion to punch both of them in the chest simultaneously, his movements so fast that they didn't even register what their fate was to be. The punch-guns left small holes in each of the spies. One fell back with a loud thud and the other crumpled slowly forward, both dead. Graffion, a master assassin, had hit them both in the heart.
This whole exchange of actions had taken only a moment. Just as planned. With a cocky swagger Graffion stepped over to the sparking husk of his droid. He reached down and grabbed his trusty bowcaster, "I've got ya girl." He whispered to it, as though it lived, "Don't worry, you'll kill her yet." He aimed it forward, one handed, his powerful muscles working to keep the weapon absolutely still ( a feat rarely managed by any but a wookie. ) He charged the bolt in it, aimed for Strae's face, and winked, "Night-night."
~*~
Round Two:
Hajo looked up at Strae, and she knew instantly this was not whom she was looking forward to meeting. His red eyes and mechanical movement gave it away instantly. From the shadows the armed raised, revealing the wookie-bowcaster. Strae's eyes went wide instantly, and her mind immediately clicked to one sickening realization: This was indeed a trap. Normally, not too distressing. But that was Graffion's bowcaster.
"nuts!" She cursed, throwing herself aside with a sense of absolute emergency. She collided on her side into the stone ground. Pain shot through her, and she gasped out, her left should cracking lightly from the landing. With a grimace, Strae looked over at her spies. She already knew the obvious fate of the silly droid; it was a decoy, and decoys die. She was hardly distracted by the unfortunate spy who'd been standing right behind her moments before. Instead she was focused on Graffion.
He moved so rapidly she could hardly keep track of his movements. His hair bounced lightly, the only thing that was distinguishable from the black blur of movement that was the spies. Bang. The first one was dead. Another instant passe and two more loud bangs, followed by a spout of blood jetting out from the backs of her other spies. Graffion stopped, coming to a slow halt.
He turned, completely ignoring Strae, it seemed. His feet slowly moved, bringing him toward his weapon. He leaned forward, gripping the bowcaster with glee. He spoke to it. Then he looked as Strae. In that moment, she was gripped with a moment of terror as she looked into his single eye, the other half of his face covered by long bangs. The look of his eye screamed cool confidence, but underneath that lay a sea of intensity. His very demanor screamed for her death, his very aura demanded that her sacrifice be made; his sense of calm showed an absolute sense of superiority, and there was no doubt within him. He would win, and she would die.
Her eyes glanced down to the smug smirk on his face. And suddenly a grin of her own popped up. Fine then, Graffion, ultimate assassin. If he wanted to play, she would play, and she'd play to win.
The green bolt reached the apex of it's brightness, showing that it was ready to be fired. She could see his hands shaking slightly. Her own hands reached down and felt the stones beneath her, calculating how strong the streets were...
The next instant she kicked with both her legs, rolling backwards onto her feet just as the bowcaster fired its bolt at her. She threw herself aside once more in the middle of her roll, and wisely so. As she predicted, the stones exploded as the bolt slammed into it, but then the bolt skipped off of the ground flying further forward and upward this time, slamming into the second story wall of the theatre.
"Whoopsie daisy..." Graffion chuckled.
Strae developed into another roll, then as her backward somersault came to an end, she reached into her robe and pulled out her blaster pistol. She she came upright onto her feet, she took aim, firing six rapid shots in Graffion's direction. She dodged to the side, and she missed terribly, but she was keeping him on a defensive. As she continued to fire, she ran -toward- him, closing the distance between them both.
Graffion gleefully stepped forward as well, releasing his bowcaster and drawing his sword, a death-grin on his face. He came at Strae head on, just as she'd hoped. Her blaster had overheated and was useless, so she'd dropped that and was reaching into her robe to grab one of the objects on her belt.
She grabbed a small silver ball, and impressed it with her thumb. She dropped it in front of her, immediately dropping to her knee's and covering her face and ears.
~*~
The bolt exploded out from Graffion's weapon and pittered across the ground, curving up and exploding into the building they were next to. "Whoopsie daisy." he chuckled. It mattered little, Strae would soon be dead.
She rolled backwards, shifting her body weight to angle her movement. She came up on her feet in a fluid motion, and with a blaster in her hand no less; he expected little else from one as sneaky as her. Her shots were sporadic and unproffesional. Graffion still found himself side-stepping nonetheless, keeping out of the way of the deadly bolts.
He saw Strae begin moving, and she was running toward him. Graffion cocked one head. Surely she had some trick up her sleeve. Still, the challenge was more than he could resist, and with a gleeful smile he dropped his bowcaster gently. One hand moved to his belt and unsheathed his sword with a satisfying schling. The blade was long and slender with a slight curve to it, made for slashing and opponent rather than stabbing ( not to say that it couldn't pierce. ), and if Strae didn't have any tricks, it would certainly make short work of her.
The two came closer together. Graffion saw Strae lift one hand, and barely saw the silver ball in time. It flung upward at his face. He brought himself to a halt, lowered his body and went into a combat roll toward the side. The flash bang exploded in the middle of his roll.
There was brightness all around him, even through the tightly shut eyelid. He could feel the sensory overload in his metallic eye, he could sense how the visual receptors were temporarily fried. He cursed again and again in his head, knowing how much of a pain it would be to get that fixed. There was a blast in his ears, and he could hear only ringing.
Graffion rose to his feet, slightly off balance. He opened his good eye and completely shut off his mechanical one. There were spots in his vision. He could barely hear. He felt himself stumble backwards a little. The crazy pregnant dog! Lighting a flash-bang that close would impair her just as badly as it did him!
He looked up just in time to realize how wrong he was. Strae stood across from him, only a few feet, two daggers clutched in her hands in a combat style. He rasied his sword in defense, still dazed and finding it difficult to see. His arm moved quickly, if not precisely, to bat away the slicing daggers. He could feel the jarring in his hand of steel colliding with steel, but he couldn't hear it, he couldn't fully comprehend it, and that left him feeling exposed and weak, like somebody with a weight on their chest trying to breath.
Frustrated, Graffion began retreating from the vigorous attacker.
~*~
Round Three
Strae was not your normal spy. Her hands moved to the two ear-pieces that were tucked into either side of her head. She slowly twisted a dial in each of them, and restored her ability to hear. The high-frequency waves of the blast would have damaged anybodys hearing when it stunned them, especially at such a close range. However, her wonderful ear-pieces did more than just assist her with hearing low frequencies, but she could also turn the dial very low and block almost all frequencies. ( Except for sonic waves, which would not only get through but likely blast her ear-pieces apart inside of her head and permanently damage her hearing. )
So, given that Strae had blocked off the sound and covered her eyes thoroughly, she wasn't even affected by the stunning blast, except that she had been thrown off balance by the mere force of it. Shaking her head and clearing her thoughts she rose to her feet, reaching into her sleeve pockets and Strae pulled out her two daggers. A grin spread across her face and she charged into battle on a full offense.
Graffion, dazed as he was, still managed to put up a credible defense. She slashed and stabbed with a fury of anger that rose within her breast; fury at his ambush, fury for the loss of her spies, fury for his sheer arrogance, and just pure and simple fury. Yet his blade collided loudly with her own blades, knocking them away as quickly as she sent them forward.
Thinking quickly, stabbed forward with both blades. He swept his sword in front of him and deflected both attacks, but she followed her stab with a high kick, blacing her boot well into Graffion's collar bone.
~*~
His whole body jolted back as the boot slammed into his collar, and he lost his footing falling backward and landing on his back, which blasted the air right out of his lungs. It was a pity too, for he was just starting to regain his senses. There was still that endlessly frustrating sense of not being at full capacity, but the ringing had slowly dissipated, although his vision was still spotty.
He worked hard to regain his breath, looking up at his attacker. Strae had flipped her two daggers in her grip to point them down. She was standing directly above and started plunging both daggers toward his chest for a coup de grace. Graffion sincerely disagreed with this motion.
His hands both shot up and forward with lightning speed that shocked Strae so much she didn't even try to dodge. His arms now gripped her two wrists so tightly that she could feel her bones shrieking in agony. He squeezed even tightly, and she winced. With a sharp yank, her pulled her down and lifted his knee, colliding it powerfully with her stomach and then careening her over his head in a somersault fashion, leaving her to land on her back, their heads only a few feet from each other and feet pointed in opposite directions.
Graffion lay still for a few moments longer, collecting his breath. Slowly, he rose, staggering, then he fell again. Pain exploded all throughout his chest and body. Apparently that kick had been much more devastating than he'd first realized. He found his breathing more than difficult to come by, his whole body seemed to heave and constrict. Silently, he cursed.
~*~
Round Four
Strae was cursing as well, only not so silently. She wasn't use to being beaten up, and while she had her fare share of experiences involving pain, she wasn't quite as good at dealing with it as Graffion was. She slowly rolled in pain, her breath gone as well. Her lungs seized up, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. For a moment she had the strong feeling that she wanted to die, then the moment passed, her eyes rolled forward, back to normal, and her lungs suddenly released breath in a hyper-ventilating fashion.
Rapid and uncontrollable breaths took their course, she sucked in air several times, almost as if it were a chronic but much more painful hiccup firing off three times in quick succession, then her lungs held for a few seconds, finally she breathed out. This happened several times.
Soon, her breathing had returned to a relative normal. She started to get up. She needed a weapon. She needed a rifle. Her eyes glanced over to her fellow spies, their bloody corpses staring up at the star-veiled sky. On one of their backs was a medium ranged, single shot blaster rifle. She found herself rising to her feet.
Stumbling and bumbling, she moved forward. All of the superfluous movement suddenly forced her lungs to attack again, and the hyperventilation started as she moved. Only five feet from her goal, she was struck with such a plague from her lungs that her whole body heaved and she fell to her knees. Apparently, she'd damaged her lungs somehow during her fall. She reached for her chest as he body heaved, and found that her ribs were either fractured or broken.
Strae found herself unabled to move, on the ground once more. Her breathing still sporadic, she started to crawl forward, trying hard not to lose control of her lungs again. She could feel the raspy coughing and beginnings of hyperventillation all throughout her lungs. She could feel her stomach twisting and convulsing, and had to will herself not to hurl.
Slowly, she inched toward her weapon. She crawled over on bloody body, getting her comrades blood all over her body. Then she reached forward, and her fingers touched the blaster. Slowly, she managed to drag it out of its holster. She turned and looked back toward her oppoenent, searching for Graffion...
It was no difficult task to find him. He was the large, glowing object. She sneered, and readied her blaster rifle. Pain shot through her, but in this one crucial moment, she ignored it, she set it aside. There would be time for pain later. Now she needed to focus. She felt her entire array of senses narrow down. Pain dimmed and died. Eye-sight focused solely on Graffion and how her weapon alligned with him, her sense of touch focused on the weapon keeping it steady and in control. The world around her went dark, and there was only two things that existed, her and Graffion. A straight shot. She aimed, she held her breath, and slowly released. As she did so, her finger lightly pressed against the trigger more and more and more until the weapon jerked in her shoulder and the plasma bolt was released.
~*~
Meanwhile, a similar struggle was going on with Graffion. He found himself unable to stand as well, so he crawled the distance toward his Wookie bowcaster. It was in a different direction of his opponent. Both Strae and Graffion were crawling away from each other toward goals of an equal distance. Strae had been walking most of the way, and Graffion was much worried as she almost reached her weapon. However, she displayed a well timed ( for him ) reaction in her lungs, very violently.
His chest exploding with pain, he laughed. Lady luck was still on his side despite all of their constant bickering.
Slowly, he reached his weapon. He grabbed the wookie-bowcaster and readied it, taking the weapon in his hand and propping himself up against the wall of a building. He reloaded his weapon, removing the first bolt and taking up a second bolt ( it, along with two more bolts, were in a quiver on the bottom of the bowcaster. )
He slid the bolt into place and readied the tension. At first, he couldn't do it. His muscles simply wouldn't work. He leaned forward and focused, putting every inch of effort into this one action. The muscles in his armed flexed more than they ever had in his life, and his whole body shook with the effort of setting the bolt and cocking the weapon.
Finally, the weapon gave way and there was a satisfying click as the bolt slid into place and the trigger mechanism began to work. He held down the trigger, and a green glow of plasma surrounded the bolt as the weapon charged it's power.
The dim green glow slowly built up to a blinding crescendo, and he readied his bowcaster, taking aim for Strae who had acquired her blaster rifle and was searching for him. He honed in and released the trigger.
So, I ask of any wonderful readers, that they please read, review, and then Vote on whom should be the victor! To vote, simply Post here who you think should win. ( Please, base it off of either A.) an honest assessment of the two combatants skills. B.) How well written either of the two combatants posts were [despite the fact that both combatants were authored by the same person] and do NOT base it off of simply who you like more. ) Thank you very much! After three-five votes, we shall determine the victor! So here goes!
:::A links to our combatants profiles:::
Graffion Maruhuey---http://swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=4334
Vs.
Strae Arhst---http://swrponline2.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=frinaccept&action=display&thread=4437
:::::::::::
Battle One Round One
First Post Goes to:::::Strae Arhst
Setting: This duel shall take place in the Midnight streets of Theed upon the planet Naboo.
Rounds: 4 ( Victor gains a Fifth post; the Coup De Grace. )
Let the Battle Begin~!
::::::
Round One
Strae and her party casually walked down the streets of Theed, well lit by the brilliant midnight sky. Stars and bright moon outlined the entire street in a luminescent aura, except for beneath the banisters and buildings, where dark shadows had taken root. The silent night was inconspicuous, and the peaceful city of Theed provided the perfect throne of naivity for the deal that Strae had planned.
She was on this planet to set free a smuggler who'd been imprisoned by the local authorities. Tonight, she and her entourage would meet with their contact for further information on the mission. Behind Strae were four trained spies, all dressed in black and perfectly capable to kill any threat. Needless to say, Strae was confident that no matter what happened in this meeting she would come out the victor, as she always did.
Passing by a theatre of some kind, it's great overpass held up by marble pillars, Strae saw her contact, leaning against the wall, a robe latched over his shoulders and shrouding his whole body. He was in the moonlight, but stuck close to the shadows that clung tightly underneath the entry way to the theatre. His left arm hung limply, gently blending into the shadows to become invisible.
Strae glanced at the darkness, wary of ambush. She was no stranger herself to the way of the shadows, none of her troop was, but she always leaned towards the side of caution. Far too many clumsy fools had been taken out by making stupid mistakes. She did a quick inventory check.
She was wearing a dark dress-robe that hung loosely over her body. There were many folds throughout the robe. Two secret sleeve pockets held sharp daggers, which she had some knowledge in the use of, and underneath her dress robe, there were tight black clothes, perfect for running about in the night. Around her waist, a belt with two blaster pistols and a pair of fine grenades. Finally, as if the rest weren't enough, she wore around her ankles two straps with hold-out blasters, just in case of super emergency. Not to mention that her boots also doubled as a switch-blade, coming out from the toe.
And then there was her hat. A wide brimmed hat with ridiculous plumage rising up above it. She moved with a slight swagger, though still alert. Her spies clustered around her, and they approached within five feet of the target, "Hajo Mameiko?" She asked.
~*~
Graffion Maruhuey had been lying in wait for a good thirty minutes. The last two hours been spent in preparation for this very moment. Strae, a hated enemy of his for quite some time, was on the approach, and there he was leaning against a pillar in the shadows, just watching. He could feel a great excitedness surge through his entire body at her approach, he boots clicking loudly at first, but going silent as she came closer. A parlor trick; boots that were mechanically designed to make noise when she wanted, but could simply be turned off, and were naturally silent.
Her troope was ready and alert. Good, then it would be all the more glorious a battle.
Graffion was clad in his common black garbe, simple clothes with no real tricks, save for their tendency to hide his form neatly in the shadows. He was less a creature of gadgets and more a creature of instinct and skill. He had merely the scimitar at his belt, and the punch-guns on his wrist, which were essentially small guns that activated when they punched against something, with a revolving chamber holding three bullets on each wrist.
Strae came to a halt, her group only a few feet away from the contact who leaned against the wall. "Hajo Mameiko?" She asked, thinking that who she would be meeting.
Hajo's limp arm suddenly stiffened as he looked up. Not a Hajo. It was a machine, and as it looked up the vision sensors glowed red, glaring out at the ones who called it's name. 'Hajo' had one, and only one, program; upon hearing it's name it was to turn absolutely hostile.
It lifted it's arm from out of the shadows and the Wookie bowcaster in it's arms suddenly leapt out from the shadows, already forming a green bolt as it charged up. It's arm straightened out, and the bowcaster was facing Strae, only inches from her pretty face. It wasn't fully charged, but at this distance, it hardly needed to be.
Quick witted Strae tossed herself rapidly aside, and the bolt exploded the head of the spy who had been unfortunately standing directly behind her. His head was torn from his body and would further explode later as the bolt hit the wall on the other side of the street. Likewise, his body, while flying back a comparatively shorter distance, also took more damage as it collided with the ground, which was hard stone.
However, to the credit of the spies, the droid was littered with blaster shots, face, body, and legs, long before the head or body had taken these damages. To Graffion's credit, he was already inches away from the other spies at this same time.
The first spy had hardly the time to look over as his fist collided heavily with the side of his fist. The trigger system was activated, and Graffion's punch-gun ignited, the bullet blasting it's way through it's opponent. Blood shot over the first spies unfortunate friends.
The second and third spies had turned to see the unfortunate fate of their comrade. One is at least relieved in the solace that they suffered for only a minimal amount of despair in the few short moments that it took Graffion to punch both of them in the chest simultaneously, his movements so fast that they didn't even register what their fate was to be. The punch-guns left small holes in each of the spies. One fell back with a loud thud and the other crumpled slowly forward, both dead. Graffion, a master assassin, had hit them both in the heart.
This whole exchange of actions had taken only a moment. Just as planned. With a cocky swagger Graffion stepped over to the sparking husk of his droid. He reached down and grabbed his trusty bowcaster, "I've got ya girl." He whispered to it, as though it lived, "Don't worry, you'll kill her yet." He aimed it forward, one handed, his powerful muscles working to keep the weapon absolutely still ( a feat rarely managed by any but a wookie. ) He charged the bolt in it, aimed for Strae's face, and winked, "Night-night."
~*~
Round Two:
Hajo looked up at Strae, and she knew instantly this was not whom she was looking forward to meeting. His red eyes and mechanical movement gave it away instantly. From the shadows the armed raised, revealing the wookie-bowcaster. Strae's eyes went wide instantly, and her mind immediately clicked to one sickening realization: This was indeed a trap. Normally, not too distressing. But that was Graffion's bowcaster.
"nuts!" She cursed, throwing herself aside with a sense of absolute emergency. She collided on her side into the stone ground. Pain shot through her, and she gasped out, her left should cracking lightly from the landing. With a grimace, Strae looked over at her spies. She already knew the obvious fate of the silly droid; it was a decoy, and decoys die. She was hardly distracted by the unfortunate spy who'd been standing right behind her moments before. Instead she was focused on Graffion.
He moved so rapidly she could hardly keep track of his movements. His hair bounced lightly, the only thing that was distinguishable from the black blur of movement that was the spies. Bang. The first one was dead. Another instant passe and two more loud bangs, followed by a spout of blood jetting out from the backs of her other spies. Graffion stopped, coming to a slow halt.
He turned, completely ignoring Strae, it seemed. His feet slowly moved, bringing him toward his weapon. He leaned forward, gripping the bowcaster with glee. He spoke to it. Then he looked as Strae. In that moment, she was gripped with a moment of terror as she looked into his single eye, the other half of his face covered by long bangs. The look of his eye screamed cool confidence, but underneath that lay a sea of intensity. His very demanor screamed for her death, his very aura demanded that her sacrifice be made; his sense of calm showed an absolute sense of superiority, and there was no doubt within him. He would win, and she would die.
Her eyes glanced down to the smug smirk on his face. And suddenly a grin of her own popped up. Fine then, Graffion, ultimate assassin. If he wanted to play, she would play, and she'd play to win.
The green bolt reached the apex of it's brightness, showing that it was ready to be fired. She could see his hands shaking slightly. Her own hands reached down and felt the stones beneath her, calculating how strong the streets were...
The next instant she kicked with both her legs, rolling backwards onto her feet just as the bowcaster fired its bolt at her. She threw herself aside once more in the middle of her roll, and wisely so. As she predicted, the stones exploded as the bolt slammed into it, but then the bolt skipped off of the ground flying further forward and upward this time, slamming into the second story wall of the theatre.
"Whoopsie daisy..." Graffion chuckled.
Strae developed into another roll, then as her backward somersault came to an end, she reached into her robe and pulled out her blaster pistol. She she came upright onto her feet, she took aim, firing six rapid shots in Graffion's direction. She dodged to the side, and she missed terribly, but she was keeping him on a defensive. As she continued to fire, she ran -toward- him, closing the distance between them both.
Graffion gleefully stepped forward as well, releasing his bowcaster and drawing his sword, a death-grin on his face. He came at Strae head on, just as she'd hoped. Her blaster had overheated and was useless, so she'd dropped that and was reaching into her robe to grab one of the objects on her belt.
She grabbed a small silver ball, and impressed it with her thumb. She dropped it in front of her, immediately dropping to her knee's and covering her face and ears.
~*~
The bolt exploded out from Graffion's weapon and pittered across the ground, curving up and exploding into the building they were next to. "Whoopsie daisy." he chuckled. It mattered little, Strae would soon be dead.
She rolled backwards, shifting her body weight to angle her movement. She came up on her feet in a fluid motion, and with a blaster in her hand no less; he expected little else from one as sneaky as her. Her shots were sporadic and unproffesional. Graffion still found himself side-stepping nonetheless, keeping out of the way of the deadly bolts.
He saw Strae begin moving, and she was running toward him. Graffion cocked one head. Surely she had some trick up her sleeve. Still, the challenge was more than he could resist, and with a gleeful smile he dropped his bowcaster gently. One hand moved to his belt and unsheathed his sword with a satisfying schling. The blade was long and slender with a slight curve to it, made for slashing and opponent rather than stabbing ( not to say that it couldn't pierce. ), and if Strae didn't have any tricks, it would certainly make short work of her.
The two came closer together. Graffion saw Strae lift one hand, and barely saw the silver ball in time. It flung upward at his face. He brought himself to a halt, lowered his body and went into a combat roll toward the side. The flash bang exploded in the middle of his roll.
There was brightness all around him, even through the tightly shut eyelid. He could feel the sensory overload in his metallic eye, he could sense how the visual receptors were temporarily fried. He cursed again and again in his head, knowing how much of a pain it would be to get that fixed. There was a blast in his ears, and he could hear only ringing.
Graffion rose to his feet, slightly off balance. He opened his good eye and completely shut off his mechanical one. There were spots in his vision. He could barely hear. He felt himself stumble backwards a little. The crazy pregnant dog! Lighting a flash-bang that close would impair her just as badly as it did him!
He looked up just in time to realize how wrong he was. Strae stood across from him, only a few feet, two daggers clutched in her hands in a combat style. He rasied his sword in defense, still dazed and finding it difficult to see. His arm moved quickly, if not precisely, to bat away the slicing daggers. He could feel the jarring in his hand of steel colliding with steel, but he couldn't hear it, he couldn't fully comprehend it, and that left him feeling exposed and weak, like somebody with a weight on their chest trying to breath.
Frustrated, Graffion began retreating from the vigorous attacker.
~*~
Round Three
Strae was not your normal spy. Her hands moved to the two ear-pieces that were tucked into either side of her head. She slowly twisted a dial in each of them, and restored her ability to hear. The high-frequency waves of the blast would have damaged anybodys hearing when it stunned them, especially at such a close range. However, her wonderful ear-pieces did more than just assist her with hearing low frequencies, but she could also turn the dial very low and block almost all frequencies. ( Except for sonic waves, which would not only get through but likely blast her ear-pieces apart inside of her head and permanently damage her hearing. )
So, given that Strae had blocked off the sound and covered her eyes thoroughly, she wasn't even affected by the stunning blast, except that she had been thrown off balance by the mere force of it. Shaking her head and clearing her thoughts she rose to her feet, reaching into her sleeve pockets and Strae pulled out her two daggers. A grin spread across her face and she charged into battle on a full offense.
Graffion, dazed as he was, still managed to put up a credible defense. She slashed and stabbed with a fury of anger that rose within her breast; fury at his ambush, fury for the loss of her spies, fury for his sheer arrogance, and just pure and simple fury. Yet his blade collided loudly with her own blades, knocking them away as quickly as she sent them forward.
Thinking quickly, stabbed forward with both blades. He swept his sword in front of him and deflected both attacks, but she followed her stab with a high kick, blacing her boot well into Graffion's collar bone.
~*~
His whole body jolted back as the boot slammed into his collar, and he lost his footing falling backward and landing on his back, which blasted the air right out of his lungs. It was a pity too, for he was just starting to regain his senses. There was still that endlessly frustrating sense of not being at full capacity, but the ringing had slowly dissipated, although his vision was still spotty.
He worked hard to regain his breath, looking up at his attacker. Strae had flipped her two daggers in her grip to point them down. She was standing directly above and started plunging both daggers toward his chest for a coup de grace. Graffion sincerely disagreed with this motion.
His hands both shot up and forward with lightning speed that shocked Strae so much she didn't even try to dodge. His arms now gripped her two wrists so tightly that she could feel her bones shrieking in agony. He squeezed even tightly, and she winced. With a sharp yank, her pulled her down and lifted his knee, colliding it powerfully with her stomach and then careening her over his head in a somersault fashion, leaving her to land on her back, their heads only a few feet from each other and feet pointed in opposite directions.
Graffion lay still for a few moments longer, collecting his breath. Slowly, he rose, staggering, then he fell again. Pain exploded all throughout his chest and body. Apparently that kick had been much more devastating than he'd first realized. He found his breathing more than difficult to come by, his whole body seemed to heave and constrict. Silently, he cursed.
~*~
Round Four
Strae was cursing as well, only not so silently. She wasn't use to being beaten up, and while she had her fare share of experiences involving pain, she wasn't quite as good at dealing with it as Graffion was. She slowly rolled in pain, her breath gone as well. Her lungs seized up, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. For a moment she had the strong feeling that she wanted to die, then the moment passed, her eyes rolled forward, back to normal, and her lungs suddenly released breath in a hyper-ventilating fashion.
Rapid and uncontrollable breaths took their course, she sucked in air several times, almost as if it were a chronic but much more painful hiccup firing off three times in quick succession, then her lungs held for a few seconds, finally she breathed out. This happened several times.
Soon, her breathing had returned to a relative normal. She started to get up. She needed a weapon. She needed a rifle. Her eyes glanced over to her fellow spies, their bloody corpses staring up at the star-veiled sky. On one of their backs was a medium ranged, single shot blaster rifle. She found herself rising to her feet.
Stumbling and bumbling, she moved forward. All of the superfluous movement suddenly forced her lungs to attack again, and the hyperventilation started as she moved. Only five feet from her goal, she was struck with such a plague from her lungs that her whole body heaved and she fell to her knees. Apparently, she'd damaged her lungs somehow during her fall. She reached for her chest as he body heaved, and found that her ribs were either fractured or broken.
Strae found herself unabled to move, on the ground once more. Her breathing still sporadic, she started to crawl forward, trying hard not to lose control of her lungs again. She could feel the raspy coughing and beginnings of hyperventillation all throughout her lungs. She could feel her stomach twisting and convulsing, and had to will herself not to hurl.
Slowly, she inched toward her weapon. She crawled over on bloody body, getting her comrades blood all over her body. Then she reached forward, and her fingers touched the blaster. Slowly, she managed to drag it out of its holster. She turned and looked back toward her oppoenent, searching for Graffion...
It was no difficult task to find him. He was the large, glowing object. She sneered, and readied her blaster rifle. Pain shot through her, but in this one crucial moment, she ignored it, she set it aside. There would be time for pain later. Now she needed to focus. She felt her entire array of senses narrow down. Pain dimmed and died. Eye-sight focused solely on Graffion and how her weapon alligned with him, her sense of touch focused on the weapon keeping it steady and in control. The world around her went dark, and there was only two things that existed, her and Graffion. A straight shot. She aimed, she held her breath, and slowly released. As she did so, her finger lightly pressed against the trigger more and more and more until the weapon jerked in her shoulder and the plasma bolt was released.
~*~
Meanwhile, a similar struggle was going on with Graffion. He found himself unable to stand as well, so he crawled the distance toward his Wookie bowcaster. It was in a different direction of his opponent. Both Strae and Graffion were crawling away from each other toward goals of an equal distance. Strae had been walking most of the way, and Graffion was much worried as she almost reached her weapon. However, she displayed a well timed ( for him ) reaction in her lungs, very violently.
His chest exploding with pain, he laughed. Lady luck was still on his side despite all of their constant bickering.
Slowly, he reached his weapon. He grabbed the wookie-bowcaster and readied it, taking the weapon in his hand and propping himself up against the wall of a building. He reloaded his weapon, removing the first bolt and taking up a second bolt ( it, along with two more bolts, were in a quiver on the bottom of the bowcaster. )
He slid the bolt into place and readied the tension. At first, he couldn't do it. His muscles simply wouldn't work. He leaned forward and focused, putting every inch of effort into this one action. The muscles in his armed flexed more than they ever had in his life, and his whole body shook with the effort of setting the bolt and cocking the weapon.
Finally, the weapon gave way and there was a satisfying click as the bolt slid into place and the trigger mechanism began to work. He held down the trigger, and a green glow of plasma surrounded the bolt as the weapon charged it's power.
The dim green glow slowly built up to a blinding crescendo, and he readied his bowcaster, taking aim for Strae who had acquired her blaster rifle and was searching for him. He honed in and released the trigger.