Difference between revisions of "WMAT Exhibition D vs. Medusa Gorgon"

Latest revision as of 03:15, 22 July 2014

D (232) has posed:
An eternal existence is said to impart deep patience, for you are given too long a life to consider time's passage. Your perspective skewed, you would suffer no urgency, no perturbance, not whenever you have a hundred years or longer to carry out any desired task. By that questionable logic, not even waiting on someone else's arrival should ruffle the serene patience of a man as ancient as the immortal D -- so why, then, is there such consternation wrinkling his brow?

It could be the crowds, the roaring applause, the attention of thousands, or it could (most likely) be his reason for enduring all three: he has come today to face an opponent in a spectacle he thinks is ludicrous, but he indulges anyway for the sake of someone other than himself.

D stands near the center of the stone grid serving as the arena's main floor. Countless stadium lights beat down on his weathered hat, and a heavy tropical wind stirs the hem of his black cape. He otherwise does not move, waiting, unflinching, his visible frown unkind to any cameras trying to find his best angle.

The spectacle cannot be over soon enough.

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
The eerie tones of a music box fills the air, heralding the arrival of one of the combatants for tonight's exhibition match.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbiNdToTsjA

But where is she? The music speeds up a little, and strings and choir join in and behold, what is that up in the sky?
A dark figure appears in the sky, making its way down to the stadium below. Is it somebody on a broom? As the figure draws nearer, it should be clear that it is indeed a certain serpentine witch that is approaching, sitting sideways on her broom. Circling the fighting area, it doesn't appear that she is in quite a hurry, as some unfortunate people might have seen her be quite faster on the broom on other occasions. But eventually she is just a few feet above the floor of the stadium, and she slips elegantly off of the broom, picking up her item of transportation easily enough just before her bare feet hit the floor. There is a sly smile gracing her lips, amusement shining in her snakelike eyes as slit pupils peer at her opponent for tonight.
"I do beg your forgiveness, I didn't intend to keep you waiting, dear~" she says in a sugar coated voice at her taller opponent, though she is smiling, eyes half closed. The broom is handed over to one of the attendants as she walks on towards the middle of the ring. Her eyes glance towards the commentator's box where Dracula's underlings are, and her smile widens just a little bit. "How gracious of the Field Marshal. Now..." The witch moves a slender hand into one of the many pockets of her jumpsuit, pulling out a small reinforced ampule, metal running around the glass and its light red contents inside. The item is held up for D to see between black and yellow fingernails, and the smile she gives her opponent is not what most would define as pleasant as it threatens to break the constraints of what a human face should be like. Only once she's certain D has gotten a good look at the ampule does she pull it back... and then puts it in her mouth on the tip of her tongue.
And then visibly swallows it.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, the witch smiles a bit more fondly. "To ensure that you don't end our match too early. Now..." Here she holds her arms out to the sides, eyes narrowing. "I will take a wild guess and assume you won't let a lady go first in this case, hmmm~?"

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Death, Slogra, and Gaibon are all lingering around the announcer's booth, with Death hovering ominously in the back while the tall, bird-dinosaur-skeleton form of Slogra and the bulky blue gargoyle known as Gaibon hulk down over the microphones. Death's skull face somehow looks incredibly annoyed.

Slogra starts off in his strange, bird-like voice. "And here we are! In one corner, we've got D, the vampire hunter and royal pain in the ass we all know and love! He's standing in the arena right now, but he's not looking too excited about this whole thing. Think there's something more here we don't know, Gaibon?"

Death mumbles in his raspy voice, "Obviously he has no interest in fighting Medusa, perhaps not even in fighting at all-"

Gaibon's rumbly voice cuts over him. "I dunno, Slogra! We've obviously got some tensions growing here - oh, hey, there's Medusa!" The gargoyle points a wing up at the approaching form of the witch. "And /wow/ has she got some great music for her entry. Lady knows how to make an appearance! She's landing nearby, but it looks like she's way more cheery about this thing than D is. We've got some /drama/ prepping tonight, no doubt." Death leans forward slightly. "What is she drinking? She says it will ensure D does not finish the match too soon. Some sort of vampire repellant, I suppose." Slogra wargles, "Whatever! We've got a real match here, and it's about to burst! Hold onto your seats, audience!"

D (232) has posed:
The youth in black watches Medusa descend to the arena floor. On her broom, no less! The crowds are amazed, delighted in fact, but D is moved by neither shock nor disdain. He takes the time to prepare himself for what will no doubt be a test of his control, his patience, and his tolerance for sticky sweet endearments. As Medusa dismounts, he releases a soul-deep sigh, and clears away his obvious vexation.

Serenity restored, he focuses on the woman standing near him. He watches, mute, as she basks in the crowd's attentions. Her plea for forgiveness doesn't even rate a blink. Mentioning the commentator's booth turns the Hunter's gaze to the motley trio crowded together behind a fleet of microphones, but he appears to have a very low regard for Medusa herself.

Slogra and Gaibon he recognizes as having no shame or dignity, but for Death to be present is strange enough to narrow D's eyes in suspicion.

Finally, he addresses Medusa. His right hand rises in a smooth motion to the curved hilt rising over his shoulder. A sharp jerk frees the sword from its scabbard, and the blade is drawn upward, its edge shining like frigid moonlight.

His voice is almost as cold as the steel in his hand.

"If it were any other arena, I might kill you to recover the vial. As it is, I will have to settle for defeating you, and pin my hopes on the slim chance you decide to keep your word."

Grace flows through his sword arm, and the blade splits the air in a white flash. Medusa will feel the sharpness of the sword's tip coming for her in a vertical sweep from shoulder to navel.

D is not interested in wasting any further time.

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
The announcers' comment regarding the unopened glass and metal ampule she swallowed is not something the witch cares to comment on, for now it seems her entire attention is on the hunter in front of her. Medusa moves her arms, bracelets jingling as she waits for D to attack. And while she waits, she begins muttering under her breath.
"Nake snake, cobra cobubura... nake snake, cobra cobubura..."
The mantra is repeated over and over, and in response the snakes within their mistress begin to stir, black and long arrows pouring out of Medusa's back, swirling and curling about her in their usual fashion. Her eyes are intent as she stares D down. His words, harsh and cruel, only seems to make her chuckle. "I'm afraid that they aren't too fond of killing, now are they? But I will keep my word if you fullfil your end of the agreement," she responds mysteriously enough. Who knows who will win this fight? Not Medusa, but she is prepared for either outcome.
As expected of a skilled swordsman, Medusa relies on her agility and experience as she watches his arm move. Immediately she moves, though it's not enough as she feels the steel dig into her side, drawing the first blood of the match.
"I wonder if I bleed enough if that will distract you!" Medusa muses out loud, the thought bringing a twisted smile to her lips.
Throwing her right arm forward, three fingers extended towards D, she calls out. "Vector Arrow!"
The snakes coiling about her moving form launch forward, following the path of her arm and in the direction her fingers gesture, black arrows aimed for D's sword arm and intent on slashing into it.

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Slogra wargles, "Wow, I can feel the frigidness from D all the way over here! The guy's not gonna be having /any/ fun with this match, I can already tell!" Gaibon growls, "And he's striking out already! His sword snaps out in a vertical slash right down on the witch!" Slogra lifts a clawed hand to point out at the arena. "But Medusa was already getting ready with some weird snake magic or something! Those arrows she uses come out of her back and she gets the hell out of the way, but not without the sword digging into her side! FIRST BLOOD GOES TO D!" Death rasps, crossing his skeletal arms, "Good. I am pleased to see that someone is willing to move things along. Medusa is not waiting, either, for she has immediately sent a Vector Arrow at D with a wise attempt at disabling him. I hope it works and gets this all over with-" Slogra raises his arms in the air as he shouts, "YEAH, WELL I HOPE IT DOESN'T, 'CAUSE WE'RE JUST GETTING STARTED HERE!"

D (232) has posed:
Arrows made of blackest magic slice D's gauntlet into ribbons, and tear through the fine protective weave forming his protective shirt, too. The result is a series of gashes running down his arm from wrist to elbow to bicep. The serenity masking his thoughts does not rupture. The strength in his grasp does not waver.

Almost as soon as the gashes appear, the wounded flesh begins to knit itself back together. Some of the blood already spilled even sucks back into his body as if flowing in reverse. While Medusa no doubt contemplates the powerful nature of D's regeneration, her opponent lunges forward in a streak of snapping black, his cape flaring like a single wing beating in desperate attempt to fly.

D plants his toe on a spot almost three feet in front of Medusa. He spins in a sharp, tight rotation, the flow of his cape masking his next move. Sparks briefly light the air in the only warning Medusa receives: the sword he wields has dipped low enough to kiss the stones. All his strength is given to a diagonal sweep which might split her in two -- save that it's the dull flat of the curving sword which drives hard into the soft, sensitive gap between Medusa's ribs and hip.

"I am a man of my word."

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
Medusa's face lights up in sick glee as the vectors dig into D's arm, and she chuckles wickedly, even as he begins healing up. It's quite interesting to see the various capabilities and powers of the multiverse at large, even if this sort of thing is not unheard of in her own world. One fighter is stoic, the other is only too happy to be here by the looks of it.
As D lunges forward Medusa's eyes widen in anticipation, holding her breath as she looks for any sign of just what he is going to do. But no. Damn cape... It's a good thing she isn't a young novice when it comes to fighting. She will just have to react quickly to lessen the damage taken.
The shriek and blasting of sparks along the floor of the arena is the warning she was waiting for, and immediately the witch raises her voice again. "Vector Plate!" Immediately several large arrows appear around the arena floor, lighting up in dark red before they settle for a dark black. One of them happens to be right behind Medusa, and she jumps back towards it, braid fluttering in her wake. Though it appears that D is quicker than expected!
The dull of his blade strikes the serpentine witch in the abdomen, making her let out a dry gasp as her yellow eyes widen. The attack knocks her back, though she manages to land safely on the black arrow on the floor. No sooner than her feet touches the ground is she thrown to the side, straight to another black arrow. And then up behind D to yet another, and another and another... After five more of these passes by, Medusa comes up from D's left side, a wild look in her eyes as she brings up her knee, intending to introduce it to D's face...!

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Gaibon flaps his wings excitedly, nearly knocking over the announcer table in the process. "YEAH! Medusa's magic whatever cuts through D's arm! SECOND BLOOD!" Slogra looks down at Gaibon, then leans in to murmur, "That's not a thing, Gaibon." The gargoyle scoffs and folds his wings up as if sulking. "It's a thing /now/. SECOND BLOOD GOES TO MEDUSA! YEEEAAAAH!"

Death's hand meets his face as Slogra just shrugs helplessly before continuing. "D's not taking anything lying down, though! The gloomy swordy guy is swirlin' around for cover before he does a diagonal cleave up into her - aw, c'mon!" Now it's Slogra's turn to sulk. "The guy's using the dull part of the sword! WE NEED BLOOD HERE, MAN! BLOOOOOOOD!"

Death rasps through the bones of his hand, "Calling for the blood of your ally is stupidity of the highest level, you ingrates."

Gaibon growls, "Blood or not, Medusa's taken a good hit! She's sent flying back - WOAH! She landed on an arrow and she's just rushing around the arena /wow/ I can't tell where she's even going there's another one-" Slogra suddenly pumps a fist in the air. "KNEE TO THE FACE! YEAH, BREAK HIS INCREDIBLY BEAUTIFUL NOSE!"

D (232) has posed:
A dhampir's reflexes are far beyond human norms, and the Hunter is exemplary among his kind. Some would think he is the very pinnacle of human-vampire hybridization. His talents are legendary, his senses keen beyond description, his strength and skill equally dominant compared to those others sharing his status as a half-breed. Why and how he is so supremely gifted is only explained in whispered rumors. He is like a demi-god confined to human form.

'My one success...'

And yet he is still so far from perfect.

Medusa's knee smashes D's nose into a red spray of snapped cartilage and spilled blood. His upper lip splits, too, and his head snaps to the side so hard and fast it would be impossible for him to come away without whiplash.

Medusa is given no more than an instant to enjoy her wicked glee. As if time has slowed down at D's behest, he retaliates with impossible alacrity. His left hand becomes a vise snatching for Medusa's ankle. Should she be caught inside D's cold grasp, she will feel and hear the wind whistling past her ears, and sense the unforgiving concrete rushing up to meet her. The flicker of silver descending after her is the spur affixed to D's left boot heel.

The way he stomps her into the ground -- once, hard and firm -- is with the same disdain for life one normally reserves for a pesky cockroach.

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
As her knee connects with D's face with that sickening sound, Medusa can't help but chuckle cruelly. Twisting mid air, the witch prepares for landing from the burst of speed. Moving at high speeds is quite risky, and it's only due to her agility that it's possible to come out of these melee fights without injuring herself as well. In the corner of her eye she watches him as he reels from the brute force she inflicted upon his noble visage, only for her eyes to widen as she notices his left hand moving...!
Too quick, a normal opponent would have fallen over from such a kick! But then again, D is nothing but ordinary, now is he? Very well! If he wishes to try, then let him see! D's left hand closes about her ankle, and he does succeed in throwing her towards the ground... but only partially. Mid throw something shoots out of Medusa's lower back, a thick vector arrow that embeds itself into the ground. Slender and agile as she is, the witch somehow manages to yank her foot free of D's grasp thanks to the leverage of the tail snake, sending her into a backwards flip as she extends her arms and pushes off, even as the tail snake pulls out of the ground.
The witch skids along the floor, chuckling. "Better luck next time, beloved~!"
Perhaps he is still somewhat dazed by the kick. Just maybe he won't have time to react as she readies herself, bringing her right arm back as the vectors flare up around her. "Vector Plate!" This time a black arrow appears underneath D's feet, threatening to launch him forwards if he's not quick enough to react. And Medusa herself throws both arms forward, unleashing a large rain of black snakes towards the general area she hopes to send D towards. "Vector Arrow!"

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Slogra pumps his fist down as Medusa's knee strikes. "OOOOH! That's a crowd-pleasing hit right there! D's sent spinning, and - OH HELL he's fast! He's already grabbing Medusa's ankle and picking her up to SLAM HER INTO THE FLOOR!" Gaibon growls, "But Medusa's fast too! I have /no idea/ what she's doing but she spun around and flipped and now she's on her feet and WHAT IS THIS AN ACROBATICS COMPETITION?!"

Slogra's hands fly up to the top of his beaked head as tensions rise. "She's not giving him a second to breathe! The guy's being launched right into the air with another arrow, and then she's sending more down to just impale him like a pincushion! AN INCREDIBLY ATTRACTIVE PINCUSHION!"

Death finally just reaches out and smacks Slogra upside the head. "Would you /stop/ it with that already?!"

D (232) has posed:
Self-regeneration is already restoring D's face to its Renaissance image of masculine beauty, but it is still bloodied and broken at the end of his rapidfire attempt to smash Medusa into the arena floor, granting a savage quality to his imposing presence. If only some emotion would betray him! Pain cracks his serenity, but he is otherwise operating like his mind has fled his body -- like he is a puppet of instinct and reflex, and nothing more.

The frigid aura surrounding the youthful Hunter belies the notion he is without care. He stalks after Medusa, a terrible shadow increasing as it comes forward to dominate the witch's snake-like vision. One step is taken, two, and his sword rises, the shining edge like a flicker of lightning in a rushing storm --

The only one rushing is D. He is flung forward by an unexpected thrust of magic, and given to the bladed embrace of Medusa's many arrows.

Among them, he falters, dropping to one knee. Using his cape as a paltry shield, he attempts to bear the onslaught, but the consequences mount. More and more arrows tear at him, poking and cutting their way through to his flesh. He shudders at the impacts, and his blood is a rusty scent on the air, some of it flung far by one arrow or the next. He hunkers down further, as if curling up on himself --

And stands up all at once, letting out a roar and a rush of repellent power. It bursts around him almost like a shockwave or a bubble of force. His ragged cloak flares around his body. In the shadows cast by his hat's wide brim, his eyes shine a lurid red.

The shining sword sweeps across the arena once more. In a pair of gleaming flashes, it cuts the distance like the distance doesn't even exist. Impossible, how fast he moves -- ah, but he's angry, now.

Perhaps Medusa will find his rage satisfying.

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
The vector snakes do not relent as they slash into D's flesh, too many to avoid, the attacks making it easier for the ones who follow to break through the hunter's defenses as he is thrown forward. At least the attack stops him from advancing too far towards Medusa, which would have made the attack even worse.
Medusa lets out a wistful sigh even as the vector snakes' assault dies down. "I refuse to believe that is all you have... We both know what you truly want, hmm?" Why is he holding back?
Yet... as he stands up and roars in that inhuman way, as his eyes shine a brilliant red, a wonderful hue, as he advances... the witch /cackles/, slit pupils watching D even as she quickly sinks down into a crouch, ready to kick off and escape. Except that D is far quicker now that his rage fuels him.
Medusa attempts to jump to the side, but no, the dhampir is there with his sword, striking twice, each strike hitting their mark as a spray of blood erupts from Medusa's chest midjump. The two cuts dig into her torso, and Medusa lets out a breathless scream, coughing up blood as it runs down the sides of her mouth and down her chin. She lands somewhat roughly, one hand reaching up to press between her breasts, blood staining her jumpsuit and coating her hand. Still... there is a sick leer on her face as she watches D, her tone incredibly fond. "Now that is more like it~!" Oh yes, his rage is indeed satisfying. She holds up her bloodied hand for D to see the red there. "Do you want to taste it?" Even now her morbid humour is still a strong as ever, despite her pain. Or perhaps it only amplifies it.
"Vector Plate!" Another black arrow appears under her feet as she is thrown forwards and to the side, starting a quick round around him. A few more passes, here and there, impossibly quick... and Medusa closes in from behind, all while she draws her arm back, intending to slam it into D's back as she aims for his lungs. "Vector Arrow!"

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Gaibon tosses his wings up. "IT'S A CLEAN HIT! A LOT OF CLEAN HITS! This is like that time I told Abaddon that his music sucked and he filled my everything with demon locusts! D's just buckling down under all those arrows-" Slogra, still rubbing the back of his head from Death's smack, interrupts with a shout. "Wow! I /felt/ that roar! D just shouted and now he's charging toward Medusa with his sword - YOU'RE NOT EVEN ANYWHERE NEAR HER WHY ARE YOU CUTTING HER?! This guy's ridiculous, he's cutting through the air in front of Medusa before he's even near her /and it's working/!"

Death hisses faintly, arms folding once more as he hovers in place. "Medusa is enjoying this far too much. I believe her cackling is what distracted her too much to avoid D's strikes, and now she bleeds for it." Gaibon looks back at Death with a bemused expression. "Hey, are you getting into this now-" Death snaps, "I am /not/, I am simply commenting on an ally's folly. Now /leave me alone/."

Slogra picks up again. "She's really taunting him! Probably just a ploy to distract him while she oh goddammit /she's zipping around him again/! Oh man there she is, SHE'S GONNA BREAK HIS BACK WITH HER FIST! OR MAYBE STAB HIM WITH HER FIST, I DON'T KNOW! MAYBE BOOOOOOTH!"

D (232) has posed:
D's breathing is ragged following the smooth grace of his return to form. No -- not ragged. His every breath is labored by a soft, beast-like growl. As if a sculpture given primal life, he stands frozen in a strike posture, shoulders heaving, his arm flung out to the side and his sword pointing toward the crowd. Blood drips from its silvery edge.

What could he be doing, giving Medusa the chance to recover?

Contrary to the crowd's cheering demands, contrary to any kind of good strategy, the Hunter remains in his dramatic pose for as long as it takes for discipline to override nature. Not even the appeal to his hunger moves him from his rigid state. He is focused. He is determined.

His eyes, she may notice, are fixed on the first few rows of tournament attendees. Who is he looking at? Could it be Crona? Someone else?

Medusa may never know. D turns the instant Medusa begins her flurrying assault. Another dizzying rush of movement disguises her intention until it is almost too late for D to try any kind of avoidance. So, he doesn't. All he does is turn to face her -- taking the full brunt of her attack to his chest, rather than his back. The air is blasted from his lungs, and his ribs creak and crack around a fractured sternum. He coughs out more blood, a wheezing breath of pain, but it would seem Medusa is right where he wants her to be.

His arms ensnare her inside the cold inescapable embrace of the tomb. She is crushed inside his arms, the breath squeezed from her, pain brought to every nerve. But it is nothing to the pain of his fangs tearing into her shoulder.

There is nothing beautiful about it, nothing romantic. He shows her no tenderness, love, or care. He is a predator descending on prey with the intent to subdue. A violent growl shudders through him, and his eyes blaze red and furious.

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
It is sickly satisfying to feel her snakes dig into his chest, and Medusa wonders just how long it has been since she has been able to indulge in a fight like this. Not since before she joined the Confederacy... Yet, she chides herself. No killing. No aiming for certain points. No striking at his heart, no matter how much her chaotic desire urges her.
Keep it together for now.
It should be clear that the witch is enjoying this violent display, though her head is clear and she keeps her focus on D, serpentine eyes filled with concentration as she plans her next step. Where will he hit from next? Does she need to move yet? Or can she risk another attack...?
The answer comes up as a solid 'no' as his arms rise. Medusa moves to kick out, but she is unable to escape as D reaches out and grabs her, prevents her from escaping. Small as she is, her physical strength is nothing compared to his. There is only one way to get away before he crushes her.
"Stea-"
Her words cut off in a cry of pain as the dhampir /bites/ into her shoulder, sharp fangs tearing into soft tissue. The witch grits her teeth in pain, momentarily stunned and coughing up more blood from the earlier swordstrike she suffered. But he is mistaken if he thinks she is prey. No, she is a predator herself, and she isn't about to let this violent embrace continue.
The tattoos on Medusa's arms light up, both snake familiars coming to life as they leave the sanctuary of her skin. Their size is hopefully enough to force D's arms to loosen their grip on her as they fly out into the air, even if it might not be enough to push him back and away from her shoulder. But just the slightest room will be enough for Medusa to throw her arms up and cry out. "STEAM VECTOR!"
At once the ground around her becomes alive as a myriad of vector snakes burst out of the ground around her in a whirling storm of black arrows, threatening to cut into anything that isn't Medusa and push them back.
Should the first step be succesful, the snake witch will extend her right arm towards D, a sickening leer on her face that looks more serpentine than human, yellow eyes staring him down, unblinking.
"COMPRESS!"
The black snakes leap out from out of the ground and at the vampire hunter, seeking to wrap themselves tightly around him to repay the tight embrace from before, with just as much loving care as he showed her.

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Slogra practically jumps in the air with his pumping fist. "MEDUSA HITS! His...chest, not his back, BUT BASICALLY CLOSE ENOUGH! D's not looking so great after that rib-cracking smash, but - oh, what?! He's hugging her! HE'S HUGGING HER!" Death snaps again, "That is not a /hug/, you incompetent wretch. He is a /vampire/. He is /crushing/ her, squeezing the life from her as a serpent would, burying his fangs in her flesh like a rabid /beast/. You /live/ with these creatures, are you really that dense?" Slogra pauses, scratching the side of his head. "...yeah, so, basically a /really/ painful hug."

While Death is throttling Slogra, ensuring that the demon's birdlike warbling and flailing fills the microphones for a few moments, Gaibon chimes in to commentate. "Medusa's sending her snakes out! SNAKES EVERYWHERE! Vectors just blowing up out of the ground like REALLY PAINFUL DAISIES! I don't know if D's gonna be able to take that - OH MAN, this is a SNAKE PARTY! She's got two more giant ones that just /blast/ out of the ground to constrict D and give him a taste of his own death-hug medicine! We've got a real match here!"

D (232) has posed:
A thousand black-headed serpents snap at the Hunter and force him to surrender his unwilling meal. Their slashing scales and piercing fags dole a bloody punishment to the vampire who thought to make Medusa Gorgon his feast. So it would seem to the eyes of the onlookers.

In truth, Medusa would have felt no pull, no drain, no overwhelming desire to submit to her grisly fate. Had D bitten her for no reason other than to inflict a serious injury? Was it a warning? Do not tease the vampire, lest you suffer the consequences! It's not as if she's human, right? So what would he have gained from actually /drinking/?

There is certainly no frenzy left to him, no blaze lingering in his eyes. He calms quickly from the appearance of an unleashed monster, perhaps because he is so quickly placed into peril.

The serpentine arrows keep him in retreat for several yards until their coils catch him in a twisting snare. The squeeze crushes his bones and his body, but that is not all. Dozens more serpents come boiling out of the ground to surround him. What was once a nuisance becomes a near-lethal prison -- and if not for his superhuman constitution, he likely would face his end.

The Hunter lets loose an agonized howl which lasts until the snakes vanish into wisps of shadow. He falls to his knees, his torso supported only by the sword he clings to like a lifeline. The blood is very slow to creep back into his body, now. His regeneration is beginning to fall behind.

D stands slowly, and reaches up to right his hat.

"I yield. This is not a contest of skill; it is a trial of morality. I have no desire to endanger your life, and this match has already gone too far. I will suffer the consequences of my loss."

The Hunter's eyes narrow. "But if you fail to accept, I will resume."

Medusa Gorgon (22) has posed:
Oh, the bite hurts enough, and blood stains her shoulder, not so very visible through the dark cloth... but even with her current bloodloss, the witch is still standing.
And she watches intently as her snakes tear into D, coiling around and around and squeezing him even as they cut into him. But it shouldn't be enough to kill him, he is far sturdier than that. So she keeps up the attack, keeping her closed fist pointed at D until the storm of snakes fades, the black magic dissolving into wisps that too fade from being as their magic dies out.
Despite her pain she stands, ignoring the urge to give in. She carries the pain well, though it's obvious that the fight has had its toll on her. Then again, she hasn't gone easy on D, rather the opposite.
And then he has to do something silly like /yielding/.
Medusa arches an eyebrow where she stands, even as her two snake familiars fly through the air and come to hover behind her, their gaze upon D as well. Not a word is said, and the witch's expression remains neutral as she slowly lowers her arm, the blood running down the pale skin. Just what is going through the witch's head? Then after a few seconds she steps forward, the two large magical snakes following closely behind her. Each tantalizing step brings her closer and closer to the dhampir, her eyes never leaving his.
Finally she stops right in front of him, canting her head as she peers up at him. All before she breaks into what /looks/ like a sincere smile, eyes squinting in amusement as she holds her arms out to her sides. "I accept~" The two snake familiars each do an elegant turn in the air, flowing into Medusa's wrists and then coil themselves up around her arms, once more becoming ink on her bloodied skin.
Then she stands on tip toes, leaning up to whisper a few words in D's ear, her lips brushing against his cheek before she turns and makes her way to exit the arena without seemingly much care to her victory nor the fact that the fight was ended sooner than expected.

Dracula Vlad Tepes (83) has posed:
Slogra is still being strangled by bony hands, so Gaibon continues. "D's getting the fight squeezed right out of him! I can hear his everything breaking from over here. It's gonna be a rough one for him to walk away from, but Medusa's snake have let him go, and he's standing up to-"

Abruptly, Death stops throttling Slogra as D announces his wish to yield. The reaper's hands slip back under his robes. "...interesting. D is choosing to yield, calling the match less of a contest of skill and more a trial of morality. The match, in his opinion, has gone too far. It is up to Medusa whether she accepts his concession."

Slogra wobbles where he stands for a few moments before speaking in a hoarse voice. "...eh? She's accepting the yield? What, you guys are done fighting /already/-"

Slogra is suddenly silenced by Death grabbing his head and tossing him aside before he floats over to the microphones. Gaibon wisely steps aside. "Indeed, the fight has ended as D yields and Medusa accepts it. With that, Medusa is now the victor, a fact she certainly seems pleased by."

D (232) has posed:
His yield accepted, the Hunter turns to slowly exit the arena, his time in the tournament at last concluded. What thoughts he has are kept to himself; even as cameras and microphones flock toward him for a post-match interview, he continues to walk, stopping for no one and nothing, except for Crona.

To the child, he gives a slight tip of his hat and a murmured apology.

D carries on his way. He vanishes inside the temple, where he will clean his sword, and reflect on what he has learned.