RP TOURNAMENT: Sour vs Kismet

[Kismet]

Sleeping in sewer drains. Drinking muddy, filth infested water. Holding your breath and praying marauding soldiers didn’t hear your heart hammering in your chest. Eating rats. These were the things that flashed through Iskra’s mind as she stared out at the battle arena; a deserted war torn suburb. The sky was overcast and dreary, blood red in the sun’s dying rays, reflective of things to come. Shadows stretched across streets and empty lawns, receding into cavernous hulks of decimated buildings. Not even crows stirred here.

Iskra stood composed in the center of the street, her eyes closed and her mind open. The past held terrible, brutal things. But it was just the past. She had come to grips with her life, had moved on. All she could do was continue moving on, even in this ghostly echo of Sarajevo. At peace in the shadow of her past, she waited for her opponent to arrive.

[Rorschach]

As the clouds covered the bright shine of the sun, Black knew there was no hope for this place. Building walls used as cover, sandbags at stop signs, everything was so similar that it felt like home. Black could only gaze in the sky for a brief moment before remembering what treacherous land he had walked upon. As he crept around, he noticed many boot prints mounted into the mud, some cold and hard while others, wet as if they had just been there. Black continued walking as the nostalgia filled his mind. Playing in the park was replaced with using whats left of the slide as cover. Going to school was replaced with going to find food. Learning math and science was replaced with mastery of predictions, because the right predictions of the human mind could reward you with your head. History however was recognized, but not of our fathers or presidents, but history of guns and armor. This is the childhood that Black had to endure, and it was as if he had just came home. A local soldier had lazily fell to sleep instead of keeping his post. Black could only help gaze at the stupidity and laziness of the human race, forgetting how vigilant he really was. Black decided to spare the mans life and grab the soldiers knife, and creeping away again. He was ready...

[Kismet]

Iskra opened her eyes. It was time to begin, lest she join the ghosts of the past. She slipped on her mask and activated the stealth components of her Battle Uniform. Smart Cells coating her suit activated, seamlessly changing color to mimic her surroundings. Looking at Iskra would now be akin to staring at a television screen displaying the wall behind it. Her Suppression Field Generator also went online, emitting antisound to perfectly silence any noise she might make. Together, these two pieces of equipment made Iskra all but undetectable, but she was far from finished. Her battle Arcanum covered any deficiencies that the Uniform might possess; her Nix ability prevented her from being seen peripherally, meaning unless her opponent looked directly at her, she was truly invisible. Her Ghost Step technique eliminated her shadow, reflection, footprints, and though it was no longer necessary, the sound of her footsteps. As she moved into the shadows of an abandoned alley, she realized she had joined the ghosts here after all.

Moving slowly from yard to yard, shadow to shadow, Iskra crept forward, quieter than death. Suddenly, she spotted something up ahead. The thermal image of another human being appeared across the Oculus lenses grafted onto her eyes. It appeared she’d located her opponent. However, even with her lenses, she was too far away to take a shot. Crawling along the ground, Iskra moved one street over, placing a row of debased houses between herself and her target. His silhouette outlined in pale blue through the obstructions, Iskra began stalking close and closer.

[Rorschach]

Now holding a form of defense from other sharp objects, Black crept along to see a narrow alley but since it wasn't truly dark, he knew it would be of no use to him. As black continued walking with his hands in his pocket, he heard a large bang echoing behind him. He turned around to see the lid of a garbage can had fell off. Black felt no threat and continued walking along entering a large destroyed house. He walked up the stairs and continued walking forward to fall! Black quickly turned and grabbed the edge, holding on for dear life. As Black pulled himself up and looked down, he saw a large barren wasteland which resembled a highway. Black exited the house and slid down a large hill onto the highway, removing his childhood memories and this area from his head. He was moving on.

[Kismet]

Iskra watched the pale outline of her target moving through the house. After what appeared to be a narrow save from a fall, he exited the structure and made his way onto an abandoned highway. Shadowing him from a safe distance, she followed, bringing herself onto the deserted road some fifty feet behind him. She ducked low, using the many abandoned cars as cover as she stalked after him, bringing herself closer and closer. Finally, at thirty feet, she drew her pistol and crouched low behind a small minivan. Working quickly, she removed a single bullet from her magazine and placed it on the hood of the car. In this light and at this distance, there was no way her quarry would be able to see it. She then darted over to a demolished truck directly adjacent to the minivan. It’s tires had been blown out, and its chassis hung fully to the ground, covering her feet. Silently reloading her pistol, she took aim. Her Oculus lenses dilated, magnifying the retreating figure of her target. With a sharp inhalation of breath, she focused her aim, and fired; her SFG silencing the sound of the gunshot.

[Rorschach]

Black felt a jolt in his thigh. He sprinted behind a car and took cover as he looked for the damage. Black pulled up his coat to see a bullet planted in his mid thigh, luckily the damage wasn't very painful due to the bulletproof vest he was wearing. He knew he needed something to heal the wound, whether painful or not. Black peeked up to see nothing, not a trace of any person or animal nearby.

"The bullet is too small to be a sniper," Black thought to himself. "But obviously theres nothing I can do now."

Black looked up at the clouds to see the sun was setting more and more, he needed to stall time and the perfect way to do that would be to run, and at least find bandages. Black crept on the floor from car to car, hopefully removing any sight of him to see a hill leading up to a nearby abandoned apartment building. Black found this as his chance and continued crawling from car to car, hoping to reach the hill in time.

[Kismet]

By some twist of fate, Iskra’s bullet managed to avoid missing her target’s vital organs and landed squarely in his thigh. The man responded quickly, hobbling behind an abandoned car to use as cover. The speed of his movement suggested that the blow had been softened by some sort of body armor, but that was to be expected. Through her Oculus lenses, Iskra watched him inspect the wound, not realizing he had actually been struck thrice and marked for more.

Iskra’s bullets were tipped with curan, poison cultured from South American Poison Dart Frogs. Already, he should begin to feel a creeping paralysis in his leg. Small at first, ten centimeters in diameter, the paralysis would spread, five centimeters per post, slowly shutting down every organ, tissue, and muscle that it came in contact with. To make matters worse, with every post he would lose 10% of both his health and his Energy. Finally, if he lived long enough for the poison to reach his heart, a second death watch would start-for after reaching the heart or brain, the victim of the curan would only have three more posts to live.

But that was only the second blow that had been dealt. Every blade and bullet Iskra held had been cursed by Arcaner magic, which prevented the wounds they inflicted from clotting. Bandage his leg all he might, her opponent would continue to bleed. And the more he moved, ran, or fought, the more his very heart beat, the faster it would go.

And finally, the coup de grace: Every one of Iskra’s bullets were marked with tracking seals. By simply flipping a switch on her pistol, all subsequent rounds would home in on the original target. Needless to say, this man was in for a rough night.

Crouching low, Iskra silently began firing rounds straight up from behind her hiding spot, one after the other. These would arc back around towards her opponent’s leg, coming directly from above and neutralizing his cover. While they were indeed targeting only his thigh, he faced several acute dangers. With so many rounds seeking in on him, there was a high probability that they would puncture the femoral artery in his leg. If such a fate befell him, he would bleed out in less than a minute. Furthermore, the rounds were travelling straight down, and might end up traveling through his body to reach their destination in his limb. Iskra felt a pang of sadness that this man should have to face her in battle this way, fighting an assassin rather than a honorable warrior. The feeling passed though. Iskra had never seen much honor in killing people, regardless of how it was done. All she had to do was be good at it.

[Rorschach]

Black continued crawling to the floor and hid behind another car. His legs were getting numb and he was sweating. Thing weren't looking so good. Black pulled the bullet out of his vest and continued moving on. He was losing this fight quickly and he can't even detect his opponent. Black looked at the clouds which were covering the sun, it was getting dark. Black took off his jacket and threw it in the air, leaving his suit and the bulletproof vest under it. As he threw the jacket in the air, he noticed a hole suddenly appear in the jacket. Black rolled forward and took cover behind another car. The bullet couldn't be pinpointed in location due to the fact that it came from the air. Black had to move fast because he was running out of time. As he looked up, he noticed the sun was completely covered making it darker than usual. Hopefully it was his turn to go on the offensive. With the knife hidden in his sleeve, Black took a moment to adjust to the pain he felt and continued off in another direction. His leg almost without any feeling at all.

[Kismet]

Interesting, Iskra thought as her opponent continued to scrounge for cover. The tracking seals seem off. I’ll have to reapply them. The stream of homing rounds she had fired into the air had all miraculously missed, as had her opening shot. Perhaps the entire weapon required maintenance? Either that or her target was stupidly lucky. Still, she knew well enough to err on the side of caution. Re-scribing seals on one hundred fifty rounds sounds like a fun way to spend an hour or two. Annoyed, she ceased her hail of gunfire and holstered her pistol, contemplating her next move. Her target was now relatively safe from immediate danger, though poison and cursed magic coursed through his veins. She could simply allow her slow kiss of death to do its work, but she dismissed the idea. She had a much more definitive death in mind for her opponent.

Her opponent had moved ever farther away in his mad dash for safety, and with the encroaching darkness, his chances of detecting Iskra had become infinitely small. Keeping an eye on her target’s pale outline, she silently crept forward, always staying out of his line of sight. The highway remained littered with abandoned vehicles, and it was an easy task to ensure that at least two of them stayed between him and herself, in addition to her stealth techniques.

Finally, she reached the car he had barricaded himself behind, and drew alongside it. Iskra paused for a moment, and drew a deep breath and silently prayed to her Emperor. Then, she drew her short sword and whipped around the car, hurling a flashbang straight at her opponent’s feet. With his paralyzed and injured leg, there was almost no chance that he’d be able to avoid its ten foot blast radius. However, this also meant that Iskra would be enveloped, which carried severe repercussions for both of them. Unlike normal flashbangs which simply blinded and deafened their victims, Iskra’s variety stripped their targets of all five of their senses. As soon as the flashbang made contact with the ground, they would both lose the ability to see, hear, touch, taste, or smell. However, Iskra had two massive advantages. First, she had been trained and conditioned to be able to act and react in such a state. The second would come to light shortly. As the flashbang exploded, she lunged forward, stabbing towards her opponent’s exposed throat.

[Rorschach]

Black sat behind the car struggling to even figure out what was going on. He was feeling weaker and weaker but didn't know how either and his leg is basically numb. He was evaluating his situation to see a flashbang heading toward the floor. Instantly, pushed his arms and moving leg off the car and jumped out the way, only to see nothing. He felt nothing either, he could still think but he was basically immobile, unable to do anything.

[Kismet]

(OOC: Sour has asked me to edit this post and end the battle.)

In the split second before the flash bang went off, Iskra watched as her opponent attempted to escape, but to no avail. Then, all was white. Iskra was blind and deaf, unable to smell, taste, or touch. She was deprived of her five senses, just as her opponent was. However, two things now ensured her opponent’s doom. First, Iskra had been repeatedly trained and conditioned to be able to act in such a state. Senses or no, she maintained perfect control over her body, her balance and poise firmly within her grasp. The second, more important advantage was the fact that Iskra was not confined to only the five senses normal humans possessed. Arcaner surgeons had hardwired lateral lines across her skin, and through them, she was able to sense the subtle changes in air pressure in her surroundings. The exact same principle that allowed fish to “feel” their surroundings, really.

So, as her targets leapt clumsily out of the way on his injured leg, Iskra was able to feel him moving through the air as she lunged. She slowed her thrust, pivoting on the balls of her feet as she moved, and realigned herself with her target. Their combined movements had brought her directly behind her foe, who now reeled in the absence of his senses. No escape. Unable to see or feel what she was doing, but sensing them nonetheless, Iskra’s left hand shot forward, past the man’s head. With a twist of her wrist, she hooked her hand across his throat. Simultaneously, poisonous needles extended from underneath her synthetic fingernails, stabbing into his neck as she began to grapple. As she did all this, she widened her stance, slamming her left thigh into the back of his uninjured knee, to take his balance. The pressure of his leg against hers, along with a specific set of muscle tensions, caused the poisonous barb woven into the thigh of her Battle Uniform to spring open, stabbing into his unprotected leg. Finally, but still all in the same fluid motion, she thrust upward with her short sword, aiming for the small of the back underneath the body armor she knew him to be wearing. The blade penetrated at a steep angle, passing underneath the rib cage and into the right lunge. With a quick twist of the wrist she punctured it completely, and jerked it into his heart.

All this was done in the same motion, without her opponent being able to feel, see, or hear any of it. Checkmate.

Iskra held her opponent as he died, feeling the pulse in his neck slow, feeling his body stiffen, feeling his heart stop. She felt him die in her arms. Gently, Iskra retracted the needles in his throat and knelt, keeping him held against her. Death was a personal thing, not to be disrespected. Iskra had stalked this man, shot at him, and finally stabbed him and killed him, all without either of them muttering a single word to each other. The only thing they had shared was his death. The least she could do, she thought sadly, was show him the kindness in death she had been unable to give in life.

Tenderly, she removed her short sword from his body and laid him across the ground, as comfortably as she could. As her senses began to return, she stood and turned away. It was over.

Tournament Battle Concluded[/size]