Difference between revisions of "454/WMAT Exhibition Sarah vs. Serori"

Latest revision as of 12:31, 20 August 2014

Serori (37) has posed:
    WELCOME BACK TO WORLD TOURNAMENT STADIUM.

    The stadium's speakers blare upbeat, inoffensive music as quick-cut footage plays on the main screen, showcasing highlights from this year's competition. Combat analysis is folded into the mix from both pre-recorded commentators and live sideline reporters, depending on who's being talked about -- Serori, Sarah, or one of the main tournament's competitors from matches already decided. Food is trucked around and sold in droves, the crowd puts forth an energetic cacophony, flags are waved, and it's generally the happy kind of chaos Serori can only take in small doses.

    Fortunately, she doesn't have to pay much attention to all of that, tonight. Down in the center of the ring, arms crossed over her chest, weight shifting from toe to toe, she kinda tunes out all the fuss and thinks only about what's coming. Sarah. The Runebearer had given Serori trouble in their past conflicts, and though the two had seemed to come to an accord, that had been ruined whenever Sarah got all snarky about her retirement gift. Thinking about it puts a frown on Serori's face, but her hard glare's hard to see through her sunglasses.

    Wait, sunglasses?

    The stadium lights are bright, but they're not /that/ bright. Are the fireworks all that annoying? Is she hungover?! Any number of theories could be tossed around, but anyone who actually /knows/ Serori's capabilities can probably put two and two together...

    Still. Even when asked, she's not explaining.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Sarah's arrival comes with very little fanfare.

The Runebearer is a quiet and delicate woman, whose patience and focused personality have made her into something of a well-known figure of the Union; along with that, her absolute skill with the element of water. Her soft-spoken ways and her quiet mannerisms might lead some to believe she's meek -- evidenced by some of the betting pools out there heavily favouring Serori -- but her quiet civility is not to be mistaken for weakness.

She arrives with a simple bloom of blue-white light, precisely on time.

Sarah wears her typical heavy dress, layered and intricate in the Harmonian style, and carries with her the ebonwood and silver greatstaff she favours. Jewelled earrings hang from her ears, sapphire, and she stands straight and tall in spite of her relatively short height.

Her blue eyes are so pale as to seem almost colourless, and she regards Serori for a moment, silent.

Sunglasses... slightly cranky... this probably won't turn out well for her, come to think of it, so she'd better be careful about maintaining her distance. The last time Serori got in close in a fight had ended up with half her innards becoming outards.

Sarah smiles, but it's a faint, chilly little smile.

"Good evening, Colonel. I don't believe I've seen you with sunglasses on, before, but I must say it suits you." She shifts her grip on her staff, adopting a more defensive stance. "Shall we wager on this? Dinner for the next... hm. Six months, perhaps? That should be incentive enough for the both of us." Considering the king's ransom that feeding a Saiyan can cost...

Laer (353) has posed:
    Laer is here, and she's already starting to get rather animated! She's also brought a small camera with her. As well as Nyarie, who is sat down next to her with a microphone of its own that is totally superfluous owing to Nyarie not needing it to broadcast.

    The camera is about three inches away from Laer's face at the moment as she screams at the Multiverse. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the last hope of the Multiverse. As you know, two horrible monsters were recently awakened, and we have managed to trick them here today to fight one another under the guise of the WMAT in hopes that they will finish one another before they can finish the rest of us. On this side, seeking to drown all the world, ice water in her veins and her heart, uncaring for those who might suffer under her wrath, Sarah! On the other side, wearing dentures carved from the skulls of cute animals, filled with an infinite hunger and a fading memory, seeking to devour all, Serori! An air strike force is waiting to try and finish off the victor, but for now yours truly and her loyal Abstractum Nyarie will seek to deliver you up to the moment information on how this struggle between ancient horrors progresses on WMAT8/900.8"

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
    Nyarie, Laer's pen, is probabl peeking out from its perch over her ear."All kinds of radiation and magic shields provided and necessary for all viewers! /Even home viewers/!" This is completely inaccurate. "I'm going to have to be decontaminated after this, probably. If I don't die getting caught in the airstrike!"

    "To all our viewers, we guarantee one-hundred-percent recent event accuracy! You could probably close your eyes and get an even better experience. Our radio listeners are gonna have an even better time!"

Serori (37) has posed:
    Sarah's arrival turns Serori's head and distracts her attention from whatever faraway thoughts could possibly grip the saiyan mind. The scowl she wears fades into a more neutral kind of look, like she is either bored or dismissive, but of course, neither interpretation would be accurate. As Sarah states, Serori does have a certain respect for the icy sorceress, so she's likely just putting on a show. "Fine. Dinner. Six months. And a box of those apple tarts you like, and whatever tea that is you favor. I'll add something else on, myself. If I lose."

    Those last three words ooze confidence. Serori snorts, and pushes the sunglasses up a bit higher on her nose. Sunglasses, really? They're not very practical.

    That's when Laer's announcement echoes throughout the stadium. Serori's head turns sloooooowly toward the booth, and behind her dark lenses, her eyes turn flinty. "Monsters, huh?" she murmurs -- and then snaps out like a gunshot: "THESE ARE NOT /DENTURES/."

    After an angry huff, she speaks to Sarah in an almost polite manner, her hand waving in dismissal of Laer. "Just a moment while I get ready, huh?"

    And Serori throws back her head, simultaneously whipping off her sunglasses and tossing her hair in a move that'd make a L'Oreal model green with envy. A couple of quick blinks adjust her eyes to the arena's lighting...and to the glow of the region's full moon.

    What happens next is grotesque, but totally awesome at the same time, right? Thick black fur sprouts from Serori's skin as her eyes shift to red and her jaw grows to make room for increasing canines. Muscles pile on muscles, hulking up and up and up to a figure that's growing bigger and bigger and bigger. More and more fur grows to cover her new form, and her face forms a huge snarly snout, her ears stretching into tufted points. By the time she reaches a height of nearly forty feet, the transformation completes -- and where Serori once stood, the oozaru remains. Tail lashing, chest rumbling in a low growl, she takes up a significant portion of the arena, leaving Sarah with little ground space on which to act.

    Oh. The transformation has stretched Serori's armor to its limits, but it's still intact. Technology, you know.

Sarah (316) has posed:
"Come now." Sarah glances up to the announcer's booth, practically radiating disapproval. "Have I ever shown anything but politeness to the Confederacy in spite of the war between us? Honestly. The nerve of some."

Her attention flicks back to Serori, watching the Saiyan carefully. Her easy tone of voice belies the focus she has on her opponent. "Fond of those tarts? I must admit that they are quite delectable. Very well, then. I am feeling generous, so I will wager two boxes, and two boxes of tea. I will let you decide your losing parting gift later, as you have the entire match to come up with it."

Yup. She's a lot more matter-of-fact about her confidence, though as certain spectators might know, it's just showmanship. In some regards Sarah is almost painfully modest, even after some years spent in the multiverse.

She abruptly turns her head aside and coughs into a hand when Serori snaps at Laer, and she is totally not laughing, you guys. Honest.

Fortunately she composes herself, just in time to--

--oh, crap.

Jewelled earrings clink discordantly as she jerks her head up to regard Serori's full height, taking in that awful transformation; the terrible, musculed form of the Oozaru.

Oh, /crap/.

"Oh, Heavens." Her voice sounds small even to her own ears.

Sarah draws in a sharp breath through her nose, letting it out in a puff. She does her best to remain unmoved... but the magically sensitive would note the sudden roar of power as she calls to the True Water Rune. Is there a little more humidity in the air than there was a moment ago?

Right then.

She doesn't so much as take her eyes off Serori, calmly and slowly backing up several steps, trying to open herself with as much space as she can in the limited confines of the arena.

"You are lucky," she murmurs quietly, "that I cannot even the playing field with a transformation of my own."

Well, she could, but it entails dying. She'd rather not do that.

Instead, she lifts her staff, still delicately circling the Saiyan warrior and watching carefully. If Serori looks closely, she might note the sorceress whispering, though her words are too quiet to hear.

...And then, with the roar of a thousand oceans, there is suddenly a wall of water no less than fifty feet high thundering down for Serori's position, laden with sharp chunks of ice.

Curiously, it curls up and /away/ from the stands, once it nears the walls; not a single person will have a drop of water on them. Serori might get a little wet, though. And if Sarah's lucky, a little cut up from that sharp ice. Still, it's not as sharp or as crushing as it could be.

Sarah's only testing her defenses, it seems.

Laer (353) has posed:
Laer says, "Oh, and it looks like all that eating has caught up with Serori! In addition to losing her teeth, she's now suddenly putting on a great deal of weight! And hair in places there should not be hair! She's gone from pint-sized monster to the full barrel of monster! But in spite of that, it's Sarah that strikes out first, water rushing out. The titanic monster is stuck by ice! There's no way that one little hit like that will bring her down, though."

    Laer may not be intimidated by Serori's threats and anger towards the booth, it appears.

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "I still don't know what kind of monster Serori is, but it's probably at least a /fraction/ of therianthrope! Ladies and gentlemen, your truly will be filling out the family tree of monsters as we go!"

Serori (37) has posed:
    There's only one sensible thing to be done whenever a giant wave of water is bearing down on you -- get the fuck outta the way.

    Serori does just that. Rather than act like some hapless Hollywood idiot who's suddenly forgotten how to dodge, she vaults herself up, up, and away, a single leap carrying the oozaru high above the splash zone. Water spray clips her toes and puts a 'haaa that's COLD' kind of shiver up her spine, but aside from some wet fur, she seems to come out just fine.

    What goes up, must come down! Oozaru Serori crashes to the arena floor, cracking it under her giant monkey feet, and Sarah, poor Sarah, had better be as quick as Serori had been to dodge the behemoth falling from the sky. Once landed, Serori spins, and her long tail sweeps out like a lash to knock the sorceress from her feet -- well. That's the idea, anyway.

    Of course, that might go horribly wrong. Serori's more than a little distracted by Laer. An angry, steamy snort in blown in the booth's direction.

    Oddly, or not, she's not always so book smart, she misidentifies the insult. "THERIANTHROPE?!"

Sarah (316) has posed:
Water sluices around the arena, as though it were following the curve of a wall that is not there. In truth, the water is being carefully kept from crashing into the stands, minutely controlled with every fibre of the sorceress' being. Although she has only had the True Water Rune for a few short years, Sarah has always worked with water, and she both understands her element and how to control it innately. Having acquired the True Water Rune only honed that control and understanding even further. Even a great wall of water such as this does exactly what she wants it to; no more, and no less.

She backs up a step or two, one hand held out with palm open, the other clutching her staff as she keeps the focus directed at the water. Her eyes are flicked toward Serori, though, watching the great Oozaru leap into the sky. The top of the wave lashes up and out as though to catch her feet, but the retaliation isn't fast enough to do more than chill the toes.

Well, that's satisfactory. It's an unpleasant sensation and she knows Serori doesn't like the cold. There is the unfortunate reality of gravity, though, and Sarah finds herself scrambling backwards; turning and throwing herself out of the way; scrabbling in alarm to get out from under that shadow--

She manages that, but she's too slow to avoid the sweep of that great tail. The blow is like being struck by an iron bar, and the sorceress is flung cleanly to the other side of the arena. She crashes into the walls of the stands, crumpling like a ragdoll.

Fortunately Sarah has quick reflexes. She picks herself up quickly, coughing and clutching at her ribs. A nasty blow, but nothing she can't ignore. She's dealt with pain before... though she glances down, pressing the heel of a hand to her ribs and frowning; wincing slightly. That better not be cracked, she reflects, or this is going to become even more of a battle of attrition.

Pale eyes flick back to the Oozaru.

Oh, and she never quite lost control of that great wave. It swings around behind Serori; the sorceress raising her hand and staff to guide it, gesturing as though she were wrapping a scarf around someone's neck.

Which is basically what she's doing with the water. It attempts to twine around Serori; suddenly hard as iron, pressurised and solid, though not frozen -- seeking to coil around the Saiyan's neck, coiling ever tighter as it goes. Maybe it's not meant to damage too much, and perhaps it can't constrict through the thick muscles of Serori's neck, but it may buy her some time to think up something creative to get past those thick layers of hide and muscle.

Laer (353) has posed:
    Laer says, "Oh, and the giant's breath is as foul as her heart! Naturally this is no therianthrope; her smaller form was a mere illusion! She is always this large; she just usually tiptoes and uses minor dimension changes to hide it all. But Sarah is as strong in her own way; after getting smacked around by the tail, a whip of water will wrap around Serori's neck, and it's hard to tell who has the upper hand from here!" Fortunately for Laer, someone left a bottle of Febreeze in the booth; she's spraying it now.

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "That explains everything! She's been this dangerous from day one, I see. Hmmm, she's going to strangle her with water! A really passive-aggressive kappa, maybe, or a kelpie, somewhere in the family? Keep tuned in, folks! I'm sure that dress of hers can't hide Sarah's cloven hooves for long."

Serori (37) has posed:
    The water reflects its wielder. Sarah is a woman of innate discipline, hardened willpower, and expert personal control; no wonder the wild wave flows and churns only where she directs it. Serori will later think on and admire the display, but now, in the heat of the moment, she has no appreciation for Sarah's gifts. She is wary -- as she should be.

    The water strikes like a python. Explosive, quick, inescapable, it coils around her neck, and swiftly compresses her throat until her bellow becomes hardly more than a wheezing squeak. For a moment, Serori grapples against the rock-hard water, fingers instinctively prying and digging at its surface, but it's to no avail. To get out of this trap, she'll need to disrupt Sarah's concentration...

    How better than to force the Runebearer to run for her very life?

    Baleful eyes narrowed to smoldering slits, Oozaru Serori lifts her left leg and stomps down /hard/ on a corner of the arena, collapsing the concrete grid into a pebbled collection of rocky shards and shrapnel, the smallest of which would rival a medicine ball for size and weight. Next, her prehensile toes dig into the mess -- and begin to /flick/.

    That's what's so great about having four opposable thumbs! You can do stuff like this! Sarah comes under a hail of boulders -- one following after another -- as Serori strives to make her escape. By now, her lungs are screaming for air, and her throat's hardly standing up against the outside pressure.

    IF ONE OR TWO OF THESE ROCKS GOES FLYING FOR THE BOOTH IT IS A TOTAL ACCIDENT, COMPLETELY.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Calm and disciplined, and seemingly placid as a windless sea. Yet even the sea hides crushing strength in its depths, and the patience and strength to lay low even mighty mountains. Sarah has more strength to her than she might think, evidenced through her time in the multiverse and the many events she has participated in.

Yet she is also modest, and approaches even a simple exhibition match like this with some trepidation. She will never be arrogant; she simply doesn't have the mindset for it. For too many years she had been no more than a tool in Harmonia's dangerous games of power. In many ways, her regard for herself is dim at best.

But she's learning.

Sarah flicks an idle glance at the commentator's booth. She can hear their chattering through her radio earpiece, but she can't spare the concentration to do something incredibly petty to them right now. (Luc must be a bad influence, she reflects.) Later, perhaps, when--

The water around Serori's neck abruptly drops, but not to splash and melt away; it whips around, forming a shining wall of water between Serori and Sarah. The surface ebbs and flows gently, reflecting light as she holds it to a faint, curved dome to protect herself from the shrapnel. A few of them had managed to get through in time to draw blood, shredding through the sleeve of her dress when she'd held up an arm to guard her face; and one of them has drawn a sharp line of red along her cheekbone.

Sarah exhales through her nose, clutching her staff with both hands now. Shields take incredible discipline and endurance to maintain, and she can feel the wrenching sensation of the rune hungering for still more power. It's all she can do maintain it until Serori runs out of pebbles.

By the time she lets her shield drop, she gasps for breath herself, as though she were the one being strangled; panting as though she had run a marathon. She uses her staff to steady herself, eyes flicking between Serori's head, torso, and the ground underfoot.

Both hands take up the staff, swinging the weapon around and casting another serpentine length of water at Serori -- but this time it splits into half a hundred whiplike tendrils, pressurised enough to bite through even steel.

And every single one of them attempts to lash straight for the Oozaru, surrounding her like a cage.

Laer (353) has posed:
    Laer says, "Oh, and now they're beginning to turn on the arena itself! The crowd flees as Serori smashes down a portion of the arena, using the rubble as a weapon. She's already turning against us, unable to keep her eyes on the fight before her! It's something that Sarah will try to take advantage of, with a number of tendrils of water striking out, but both of them seem to be tougher than they are strong for now. Can anything bring them down?" Laer had seen the rocks coming and is actually making this call from under the commentator's desk; she'll duck back up in time to catch Sarah's counter.

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "With all this snake-like water and multiple heads, we're looking at at least a little hydra in the family tree! But Serori's still only showing off the brute strength here. With these kinds of hits to the arena, we might need to go a little more japanese into these monsters! Stand by for confirmation, folks; we'll see sooner or later if her breath is so bad that it's radioactive!"

Serori (37) has posed:
    "HAH! I SEE WHAT YOU'RE UP TO!"

    The were-monkey's voice undoutbedly recalls Serori's less monstrous tones, but it's been magnified and grossly distorted by her transformation. The shape of her muzzle seems to prevent anything other than an angry-sounding snarl to be made. Its growling undercurrent rumbles throughout the arena like thunder.

    Serori stomps her foot a second time; the gesture serves to channel her energy outward and upward. As more arena rubble is cast into the air like a cloud, a bubble of light winks into existence, surrounding the lower half of her body in a rigid barrier. It's all she can manage before the watersnakes strike. Several of the tendrils clash against Serori's barrier, making it shake, quiver, and crack, but the shell of pale red light seems to hold. Whatever strikes from above is swatted away by Serori's massive, hairy arms, or snapped apart by her vicious jaw. A tooth is broken, and she's left bruised, but before the prison can take hold, she seems to guarantee her freedom.

    Which leaves her with plenty of room for retaliation.

    But first, the commentator. Serori's head whips around so her red glare can find Laer again. "I WAS NOT ATTACKING THE PEOPLE; I WAS ATTACKING MY OPPONENT!"

    Stomp. "AND MY BREATH IS NOT RADIOACTIVE!"

    But it /can/ be weaponized. Sort of.

    Serori, almost pushed into a toddler's tantrum by the teasing commentary, is tricked into playing one card before she'd like to: her blast attack. Lowering her head at the appropriate angle, she opens her mouth and belches out a quick burst of energy. It'd be a beam cannon, if given long enough to form a proper shape, but Sarah's just going to face a big ol' explosive sphere.

    How DO they rebuild this place so often.

Sarah (316) has posed:
Sarah flicks a vaguely annoyed glance to the commentator's booth. Those two are definitely troublesome. Perhaps she ought to do something about that. In fact Serori gives her the perfect opportunity when the Oozaru whips her head around to yell at them.

A faint gesture and a flick of her staff, and suddenly--

--there are rainclouds. /Inside/ the commentator's booth. Presumably, hopefully, raining on Laer and Nyarie.

Luc is definitely rubbing off on her, she decides, even as she feels a certain satisfaction in that. But her attention is returned wholly to her opponent; she can afford no distractions today. Not if she wants to leave this arena in one relative piece.

Oh look it's a giant column of destructive energy. There is no time to dodge, and no wall strong enough to deflect such a terrible power. Sarah abruptly throws a hasty wall of water into existence, but it doesn't shield her -- no, she's merely trying to deflect that overwhelming power and redirect it somewhere else.

Even that effort costs her. She drops to a knee, huffing a breath. Shields are not her specialty, and it costs her tremendous amounts of energy to maintain them in the face of such an onslaught. It shows; there is a thin trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth, and she looks even paler than she usually does, shuddering as she forces her shield to hold.

While the energy doesn't leave a scratch on her -- just as well, as it would probably obliterate the poor woman -- the mage picks herself back up, panting and leaning against her staff as she considers her options.

A hasty command in Sindar, and she flicks her staff out, as though to strike at Serori. Bright, lavender-white light flares over the broken arena, and out from this otherworldly portal climbs...

Well, it looks like it might have been a dragon, once. But it is consumed with rot, and death hangs about it like a shroud, its exposed bones yellowed and its single eye a filmy white. It launches itself into the air with beats of its bony wings, shrieking in a dry, ghastly voice and arrowing straight for Serori's face--

But it is a decoy. An illusion. Any attempt to strike it will pass right through it.

It does allow Sarah free to work her real threat, which is an attempt to bind one of Serori's ankles in that watery grip, and if successful, use the power of the tides themselves to forcibly yank the Oozaru off her large feet.

Whether she succeeds or fails, though, such a split of her attention is obviously costing her; Sarah is breathing hard, practically radiating focus as her eyes flick between the dead dragon, the water, and Serori.

Laer (353) has posed:
    And now there's rain on Laer, at least. Laer says, "Oh, and now localized rainstorms are interfering with commentary! One moment, please; the crowd has mostly cleared out now for fear of being Serori's next victim. Her radioactive breath gets a good piece of Sarah, I believe, and undoubtedly is unpleasant besides! I missed a piece of the action due to rain, but I'm assuming from there that there was something involving that dragon that happened horribly to Serori in turn. It was really epic in my mind, at least!" She reaches under her desk (and, actually, into a bag of holding) and pulls out an umbrella; it's green, and she'll unfurl it within the booth, rain beating down on it.

Serori (37) has posed:
    Success! That horrible illusion sure is convincing! Serori squawks in surprise -- when and how did Sarah bind an undead dragon to her service?! -- and she's baited into a harmless swat at the thing, her instinct demanding she at least /try/ to ward the dragon off. Of course, this leaves her swiping at empty air, and looking kind of like a cat trying to hit the dangly string. Meanwhile, down at her feet, water starts to creep around her ankle --

    Prompting a second howl of surprise, and a reflexive upward leap. Seems the dragon left her kinda jumpy, huh? Maybe it's a good thing! Her foot's yanked free before she can get all bound up, and though the action abrides fur and skin from her leg, she's left wholly mobile. Spooked -- just look at those hackles -- but mobile.

    That's bad news for Sarah, who suddenly faces the ultimate elbow drop. Serori lets out a furious RRRROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAR and plunges elbow first at the Runebearer's current location. If it's another illusion, she's going to flip her shit.

    The maneuver leaves Serori's eyes level with the booth. Her big nostrils snort steamy breath at the booth itself, the clouds coming close enough to fog up the booth's glass. "I AM NOT VICTIMIZING THE CROWDS! THERE ARE STILL PEOPLE HERE! THEY ARE CHEERING! LISTEN TO THEM CHEER!"

    Is anyone cheering? Ear flick.

    Serori snaps out a cruel addendum. "GREEN DOESN'T SUIT YOU AT ALL!" Low blows being slung left and right!

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "A dragon! Yep, we're seeing all KINDS of serpents and reptiles coming out of Sarah tonight. Only fitting; out here tonight it's a clash of cultures, some sort of King Kong versus Godzilla sort of thing! Wait, no. Serori's the one with radioactive breath... And good lord is it hard to keep track of with so much destruction happening. Meanwhile, some kind of horrible water assault is going on in our booth! More on this as it develops."

Sarah (316) has posed:
Although she certainly could have summoned an actual dragon, illusions are less worrisome and unpredictable. A real dragon may have defied expectations and turned on the audience, and while Sarah has the capacity to feel vindictive when slighted, she is hardly malicious.

Shadow falls over Sarah again. She doesn't move, simply waiting there as though she were waiting for inevitability to fall over her. How do you argue with a several thousand pound monster trying to drop an elbow on you? You don't.

Sarah takes precisely three steps to the side, makes a sharp upward gesture with her staff, and a giant spike of reinforced ice sprouts itself directly beneath the place where she was standing.

Welp, that's gonna hurt if Serori manages not to avoid it. If she does avoid it, colour the water mage impressed.

Laer (353) has posed:
    Laer says, "And Serori is now threatening the crowd into staying or cheering. Don't believe her tyranny! Cheering will only buy you but a moment's respite; if she comes after you, face devouring with dignity! And green is a perfectly fine traditional elvish color choice! Sarah, meanwhile, sets a cunning trap up, demonstrating her own heartless determination. Have you considered something in the wendigo family for Serori, Nyarie?"

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "Speaking as a green-colored thing, I can say that green is one-hundred-percent in my User's nature! Whatever horrible spiritual digestion is going on inside Serori seems to be coming to a head with her last attack that takes advantage of her titanic weight! Hmmm... Wendingos! That could be right, here. She's going after a BIG target, that's for sure!"

Serori (37) has posed:
    Long story short, Oozaru Serori gets skewered. The spike misses her elbow and misses her bicep, instead tearing through her tricep to gouge a gaping wound into her armpit. It just so happens that the kind of light chestplate she favors doesn't protect these areas of her body well enough to deflect the sharp end of the icy pillar.

    The fur she's got is thick, and so's her skin, but what's denser than these is her stubborn spirit and feisty temper. So, yeah, she's pretty seriously hurt, but it's like she doesn't feel it right away. Oh, there's some sort of flinching going on around her eyes as she sasses her commentary team, and she can feel that /something/ is wrong, but it takes awhile for the cold shock and burning discomfort to translate into actual agony. In a seriously delayed reaction, she doesn't start to howl until she tries to move, and her arm fails to go along.

    The giant monkey almost forgets herself in a blistering moment of wrath! Hey, some saiyans, like Taylita, go flat-out berserk when transformed -- Serori might have some of that dangerous unpredictability inside her. If Sarah's wise, she'll start to move or organize some other defense before Serori's snapping maw catches up to her.

    Like a deadly game of Hungry Hungry Hippos, Serori lunges after Sarah repeatedly, trying to bite, bite, bite.

Sarah (316) has posed:
The Runebearer ignores the commentator's booth; by this point her attention is focused wholly on the opponent in front of her. Fortunately for Laer and Nyarie, that meant that the rain clouds disperse, because Sarah no longer focuses on them.

Oh, dear. Perhaps she hadn't meant to hurt Serori that badly, at least off the real battlefield, but perahps she can see about mending the damage later. If she doesn't need someone to mend /her/, that is.

There are other defenses, yes. Like scrabbling for purchase and running the hell away. She's not fast enough to get away, and when the speed born of desperation fails her she raises her staff in a desperate attempt to block those clashing jaws.

The fragile-looking woman strains against the power, bracing her feet against the smooth arena floor. Slowly, those sharp teeth force her back. She's actually shoved back several feet; gritting her teeth against the strain.

While she does, she channels ice. A thick rime of frost springs to life over the haft of her greatstaff, crackling as it envelopes the wood and silver; but more importantly, it's trying to envelope Serori's /teeth/.

Yeah. You know that awful feeling when you bite into ice cream with your teeth? Magnify that by about a hundred.

Laer (353) has posed:
Laer says, "And the weather starts to clear up as the fighting intensifies! Or rather, as Serori attempts to utilize her most dangerous organ, her stomach. It's the second most dangerous organ in the multiverse, after one built into a skull-shaped fortress! But Sarah doesn't seem to want to go; she fights back with her staff, and then with ice. Oh, that's no good! Five out of five dentists agree: Don't chew ice with your dentures! Is this the weak spot that will turn the fight?"

Abstractum.Net (347) has posed:
Abstractum.Net.Nyarie says, "It's gonna take more than just Sarah's ice-cool minty freshness to deal with that godzillabreath! But it sure might cause some real tooth pain before this fight is over, and it's probably gonna weaken those big monster teeth even while they're snapping down on Sarah. I can't think of any monsters associated with sugarfree gum, hmmm. Our viewers and listeners at home, see what you can fill in!"

Serori (37) has posed:
    CRUNCH.

    The interior of Oozaru Serori's oversized maw frosts over. A thin rime expands into the kind of icy blockade which repels those ships with the ramming noses specifically built to chunk apart glaciers. Sarah, once in danger of becoming a tender morsel, now stands inside a rumbling, jagged cavern of her own design, shielded against the incredible crushing forces bearing down on her.

    The cold is so fierce it burns. Serori's giant fangs crack and tremble, and the searing cold penetrates to each tooth's delicate nerve. What's worse, she can't pull away the way she'd like -- the ice is too thick to chomp through, and too gripping to just yank apart. Shaking her head around might result in worse injury, so really, there's only one solution, here -- and it's not a pretty one.

    Something red lights up in the black recesses of Serori's throat. It shines through the ice, filtered but also magnified, refracted by all the icy shards keeping Serori prisoner. That's all the warning Sarah gets.

    Serori rips her frozen jaw from the ground, throws her head back so her mouth points straight up, and lets loose a NON-RADIOACTIVE BLAST that instantly poofs the ice into steam. The column of energy burns like a pillar of bright red light, lurid and violent against the backdrop of gentle stadium lighting. And poor Sarah's right in the middle of it!

    "THEEEEESE...AAAAAREN'T...DENTUUUUUURES!!"

Sarah (316) has posed:
The way that red light shines is kind of pretty, like some kind of new age lamp, or maybe the set from a fantasy movie, dreamy and surreal. Except it's very real, and Sarah knows exactly what that crackling buildup in the air is.

Wuh oh.

It's all she can do to shrink into herself, covering her head with her arms, staff held in both hands, abruptly dissipating all that ice off Serori's teeth and conjuring a tight-furled shield of pressurised water around herself.

While it protects her from the worst of the damage, it's like trying to stop a tidal wave with a broken umbrella.

She grits her teeth, screwing her eyes shut against that wrathful energy; bracing herself against it and holding onto her staff for dear life as she pours all the energy she can into that shield. Dimly, she can almost imagine the wood of her staff smoking under her hands.

When it's over, she staggers, planting the spike-shod end of her staff into the arena floor and leaning against it. Her head bows as though she were in defeat, but in reality, she's whispering quietly.

Mist forms over the arena, hanging low; surrounding herself and the Oozaru. It pulls inward, thickening, until it becomes a dense fog. The dense fog becomes so wet that it might well mat the fur of the Saiyan.

And then in the span it takes to draw in a breath, the temperature /drops/. The fog snap-freezes with the sound of cracking, shattering glass; and shards are sent in every direction. As before, they stop before they draw anywhere near to the spectator stands; rebounded and redirected so they fly straight for Serori.

Death of a thousand papercuts, indeed.

Serori (37) has posed:
    Yep.

    That is one sad-lookin' monkey.

    By the time the storm of icy shrapnel subsides and Serori is allowed to take a clean, fog-free breath, she's a mess. Ragged, bloody, her armor fragmented, her hide in shreds, scraps of fur thrown all over the place, she sags to the cracked and cratered arena floor, and lets out the kind of deeply pained sigh only a giant animal can muster. The red light winks out of her eyes, and her form shrinks, growing smaller, slimmer, and substantially less hairy.

    What this leaves behind is a saiyan, familiar if bruised, whose shadow looms not over Sarah, but over the commentary booth.

    "I call for a truce," Serori purrs, pure malice. She flexes her good hand into a fist so tight her knuckles crack. "I think one of our commentators could stand to learn how /grateful/ we are for her skill. Don't you think, Sarah?"

Laer (353) has posed:
Laer says, "Ahd they're finally.. oh, I think they're going to turn upon us! Why, yes, here it comes... Send in the fighter jets! Now, now, now! Before they can finish off all of us, please!" One would think there wouldn't actually be a plane to come for this!

    One would be wrong, as a plane of the Confederacy is heard overhead, streaking across the sky, Colonel Laer having abused her power to get something to finish the fight. The bomb it releases, however, rather than exploding in any normal fashion... blows into an enormous burst of confetti, which starts to rain down upon the area as the duo starts to truce to destroy the commentators.

Sarah (316) has posed:
By the time she's finished, Sarah is left leaning heavily on her staff, panting. She looks a mess, even though the worst of it was absorbed by her shields -- but even though the cost her dearly, better internal destruction than external obliteration. Other Runebearers are made of sterner stuff than she, but physically, Sarah is by far among the weakest of them.

She jerks her head to one side, spitting what looks like blood and grimacing. Pale eyes flick to the Saiyan as her transformation ebbs away, and Sarah pushes herself to her feet, along with a pained groan.

The bathhouse of Castle Toran is going to feel great after this, she decides.

"I agree," she huffs, managing a thin, wintry little smile. "Grateful indeed." The True Water Rune at her right hand flickers, unsteady light... and she looks up, as SUDDENLY CONFETTI.

Bother.

An irritable sweep of her left hand activates the Cyclone Rune, attemtping to clear away some of the detritus. "Get her," Sarah snaps to Serori. "I'll see about cleaning up this mess."