WMAT B3 Jericho Hawke vs. Ariah

WMAT B3 Jericho Hawke vs. Ariah
Date of Scene:	18 July 2014
Location:	WMAT Arena - Diablo Desert
Synopsis:	WMAT Round 3 fight between Jericho Hawke and Ariah!
Cast of Characters:	56, 270, 273

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Ariah (56) has posed:
Dusty dunes and desert heat. Not a place one would usually find a vampire. But Ariah isn't your usual vampire, either. She stands near one of the mushroom trees, feet sinking into the sand. No flashy entrance, just a walk on with the wind pulling at her stark white hooded cloak. It's the third round and the crowd knows her face and her staff, fingers curled around the length of metal. Hanging from a strap at her side is that Hyperion-made SMG, a good show of the tournament's sponsorship partner and an effective weapon to boot.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
A desert is much more Jericho's speed than his last two arenas. That being said, he's still managed to come out on top with both matches in the mountains. Maybe he should have gone three for three. Well, regardless, he's here now. He rolls up into the desert on his horse, and then sends Challenger off to the sidelines, after unloading his usual compliment of weaponry from the equine. As he approaches his opponent, he tips his had, "Dunno what it is with this tournament and having me fight females, but that just seems to be my luck."

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
The seating out here in the Desert arena isn't exactly the best of the WMAT's accomodations. But that has't stopped a massive crowd from showing up to cheer on their favorites, exceeding the meager capacity of the stadium's viewing area, and spilling out onto the sand. One half of the stadium can be heard chanting Jericho's name; and on the other, Ariah would hear her name being chanted. There's a few sections of locals seated right near the middle of the arena who seem to just be looking for a good fight. And some good booze, too.

The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening, but there's no commentator to be heard. The announcer's box, situated up and above the viewing area, is vacant save for a couple panic-y looking interns.

"Hey, Cap'n, I think we're in this section..." says a familiar, happy sounding voice that belongs to a lovable ship's mechanic, as she holds open the back door of the announcer's box for the rest of the crew to file in. "Inara must've pulled some strings. We got a box!"

And, as luck would have it, right as a certain suspenders-wearing ship's captain steps in, he's swarmed by the interns, and pushed in the direction of the microphone. "Thank God you're here..." says one of them. "Intro script is right there!" says another.

"Hey...What the..?" says Serenity's captain, before realizing that his voice is being amplified over the entire stadium grounds. The crowd starts to go quiet. Finally, the commentator's here!

Aw, hell.

"Well, good afternoon, Ladies and Gents! Fixin' to see a pretty good fight today, I reckon!" Mal says, leaning into the microphone. "On one side... We've got one of the most dangerous sorts of combinations ever to make a run at this Tournament! Everyone's favorite Vampire-With, Ariah!"

Ariah's side of the stadium goes nuts. Her name starts building in a chant.

"Aaaaand, on the other. A gentleman with a real fancy-lookin' hat, and a dead-eye shot, Jericho Hawke!"

"Mal... What in the black?..." says a deeper voice, about half of which makes it out over the microphone before the ship's captain covers it. Jayne gives an -exceptionally- confused sort of look to his captain.

Ariah (56) has posed:
"My previous two opponents were of the fairer sex as well," Ariah replies in her usual cold, almost emotionless tone. The tip of the hat earns a nod, perhaps one that could even be called friendly. She does look towards the packed stands, not so much surprised by Jericho's section, but surprised by the array of people chanting her name. It's a moment before she looks back to the cowboy assassin, hearing the announcement by a kind-hearted captain. "This is quite the spectacle," she then states, settling the end of her staff into the sand before her, ensuring that her toes are at equidistant points from it.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
"Well there's like twice as many female fighters as male.." Jericho says, "Just goes to show you how the Multiverse is, really. Anywho. Good luck." He says, before he turns and steps away from her, moving into a better position to start the fight.

"Lets go."

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
There's the sound of someone grunting in protest, as up in the announcer's box, Jayne is given a sharp elbow by Kaylee, who's clearly -very- much enjoying watching Mal try to do this. "Hush!" she says, grinning.

"You folks ready to see some destruction?" asks Mal's voice, echoing over the announcement system. The crowd roars a resounding 'YES', as the chants for each of the competitors louden. "Ready to see some history made right in front of your eyes?" Again, the answer is a deafening, resounding, 'YES'. "Ready to see bullets fly and sparks flash?" One more time, the crowd roars their thunderous, affirmative response.

"Well....good!" comes the space cowboy's answer, as he scrambles to figure out what he's actually going to reply to that.

"Witch against Assasin! Cowboy against Vampire! All right here! Right now!"

"Hurry up and start the ruttin' fight already!" comes Jayne's voice, who's somehow managed to procure a excessively-sized flagon of an unknown alcoholic substance.

"Get ready!" shouts Mal.

"Get SET!"

The stadium's roar builds to a thunderous crescendo. The tension is as palpable as the deafening sound that fills the arena.

"BEEEEGIN!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
Ariah pans her gaze across the roaring crowd again as the announcer does his magic to somehow rile the spectators up even further. "Fight well, Jericho," she states when his back turns. She waits for him to look upon her again, not wanting to strike the man in the back. Then she moves. The cameras and crowd may have difficulty tracking her for a moment as she accelerates, the sun shining on her white cloak and hood making her a shimmering blur as sand kicks up behind her.

The vampiress sprints, her true nature shown as much as it was announced, putting her supernatural speed into closing the distance to strike. Even with the reach of her staff, she gets in close, testing the assassin's defenses. She feints a swing and instead turns it into a short thrust.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
The duster hides Jerich's armored hidden blade gauntlets. He uses it in order to make sure that he has a strong defense against melee fighters. He is able to use this to his advantage as Ariah comes in towards him with that staff.

She's got a lot more range than him, with melee weapons for sure, but he's able to deflect the staff off to the side as she prods his defense. Once he's deflected the staff strike, he turns himself to the side and thrusts at her with his right hand. He doesn't deploy the hidden blade, instead just trying to strike her with a solid blow from his gloved fist.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
The crowd goes crazy as Ariah moves in, almost too quickly to even be seen, and then 'ooh's as the thrust with her staff results in a narrow miss. That doesn't curb the crowd's enthusiasm in the slightest, however, and they begin chanting the vampire's name anew.

"Aaaand, our witch goes in for a thrust, but it's a real narrow miss!" Mal commentates, reaching over to snag the handle of Jayne's unguarded goblet and pull it his way.

Though the liquid nearly spills from the glass, due to the vibrations of the crowd's cheering after Jericho lands a slight hit on the vampire. Serenity's captain hurriedly swallows, and grabs the microphone.

"A hit! Jericho goes in for a right hook and lands a glancing blow!" he commentates. The crowd begins to go nuts, and Jericho's side of the stadium starts cheering their hero's name.

Ariah (56) has posed:
The staff is deflected, but Ariah is able to swing it around again to bring it to bear against the fist coming her way. She succeeds in sending it to her side, and it would likely bring a bruise to the surface on another fighter. She doesn't smile, she doesn't speak, she moves. But for her speed and skill, she lacks much grace.

There's trained precision as she spins with her staff, aiming a strike to Jericho's side, keeping him close. With her back to the western combatant, mid-spin, she aims an elbow at his chest to give him something more to think about. Her close proximity seems partly to keep Jericho on his toes and partly to gauge what's hidden under his duster while trying to wear him down, if she can.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
The blows come quick and fast, and Jericho winds up stumbling forward as she slams that staff into him. One of the strikes hits something decidedly hard, something that's not skin.

Jericho turns away from her as she hits him with the staff, and pulls a weapon off of his belt, the bowie knife in his hand coming to bear as he lashes out at her, trying to slash at her arm with it, trying to take out the power behind the staff.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
Half of the stadium erupts into cheers following Ariah's combination attack. Even the locals in the middle go nuts, as she lands a swipe with her staff, and then an elbow on the cowboy. Meanwhile, up in the announcer's box, there's a brief squawk of static, as someone grabs the microphone from Serenity's captain.

"Gimme that..." Seems that someone is Jayne. Oh boy.

"And the...vampire chick lands a sweet hit on the cowboy! And another!" shouts Serenity's favorite grunt.

"Her name's Ariah, Jayne..." hisses Kaylee, rolling her eyes. "Says it right there on the sheet..."

"Don't make a ruttin' difference. Ain't like they're gonna notice..." replies the big man, forgetting to cover up the microphone.

"And the fella in the hat gets her right back! Where the black did that blade come from?"

"I want me one of those..." Jayne says, peering over to the rest of the crew, remembering to cover the mic this time, thankfully. "I can see it from here! Must be HUGE."

Ariah (56) has posed:
That's a KNIFE! Ariah's eyes narrow, both at the feeling of the clearly armored impact and then the blade that comes for her. She risks staying close, jerking her arm close to herself, the blade slicing through cloth meant for deflecting magic, not steel, drawing a rise of crimson that quickly heals over, but not before leaving a shining red streak on Jericho's knife. First blood.

One hand still free, the witch decides to test the assassin's magical defenses, or at least see how fast he can move. Her hand comes up, like an open-palmed strike aimed for his middle, but there's no contact. Her eyes flash violet for a moment, her fingertips glow, and there's a -burst- of concussive energy focused outward from her palm, the sort of force that could crack normal human bones, but let's see how the Elite can handle it!

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
Thankfully Jericho is trained in the ancient ways of dodge and counter. It's a classic Assassin move, to evade an opponent's strike and then counter them with whatever weapon you happen to have on hand. Jericho turns his body and shifts his arm under the witch's. And it's a good thing too as it sends the magical blast away from him.

So that's the dodge part down. Time for the counter part. Jericho takes the blade in his hand, turns it around so that he can deliver a downward strike with the hilt of the weapon, and then swings it around to try to clobber her in the head with the pommel.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
"Vampire's movin' in again.." comes Jayne's voice back over the microphone. "She's real close!" he shouts.

The crowd continues to cheer like mad, the chants building as Ariah moves in and then laces the air with that concussive energy. There's a resounding 'OOH' as the bolts narrowly miss the figure of the cowboy.

"Ah, but she misses again! Cowboy's not too happy! And he's still real close-like!" Jayne shouts, doing his best to keep up with this commentating thing. More alcohol should fix it, he decides, and reaches over for an unclaimed glass of booze, since Mal is holding the man's formerly claimed flagon of alcohol and looking mightly pleased with himself.

"Hawke-guy comes back in, and he gets her!" Jayne calls, in real-time. "Catches the witc-...erm, Ariah right in the head!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
Ariah really needs to re-think that attack, or the timing on it. Or underestimating her opponents' dodging ability. It could be forgiven, being that she's still new to the multiverse and its denizens, and is learning. A few bumps on the head won't hurt too much. She takes the thunk atop the skull like a champ, even if it jerks her head down somewhat.

It's a moment to clear the brief blur from her eyes before she falls back on her staff again, taking it into both hands and stepping back. Using her reach, she thrusts again, aiming a hard thrust towards the cowboy's ribs.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
That impact knocks the air out of the cowboy, and makes him fall back. He's pretty sure at least one of his ribs is cracked. He coughs and tries to gulp down some air, as he drops to one knee, "Huff...Guess we'll do this the hard way, then.."

His right hand moves down and grabs his revolver off of his hip. He hauls upwards with it, as he moves back, jerking away from her before he squeezes off a shot from the weapon, trying to wing her with a shot and create some distance between them.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
Once more, there's an angry-sounding screech of static as the microphone forecefully changes hands. The change may or may not have been motivated by the few old fruits lobbed up in the direction of the newer announceer.

"Ariah comes back in and lands a direct hit on Jericho! And the cowboy's knocked right off his feet!" comes the familiar voice of Serenity's captain.

There's a collective gasp from Jericho's half of the stadium as their champion is knocked from his feet and knocked back into the dirt. However, the gasp quickly turns into a deafening roar of approval as the cowboy-assasin pulls his revolver and fires off a round in the woman's direction. Hope he's a better shot than a drugged-up Jayne...

"Jericho pulls a revolver and gets a shot off!" calls Mal, before covering the mic with a hand briefly. "Gerrof!" he says, pushing at Jayne with a boot as the big man tries grabbing at the microphone again.

"And he's got her! A hit!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
There's the old adage about bringing a knife to a gun fight, but it seems both combatants are loaded for bear when it comes to that. The witch is no stranger to revolvers, but she's put off guard by the cowboy's coat of wonders. The bullet pings her near the waist, likely passing through cloth and flesh and hitting her in the hip bone. The impact jerks her sideways and the hole in her clothing shows hints of red, but she's still on her feet.

Retaliating in kind, she jams her staff into the sand, letting it stand up without her touch and pulls her own firearm up. Unlike the cowboy revolver, her Hyperion-made SMG is sleek and modern (and thankfully doesn't /talk/.) The stock automatically extends to nestle against her shoulder and she takes a knee, sighting Jericho and pulling the trigger with practiced discipline.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
Now if there's one thing Jericho hasn't gotten with, it's the whole rapid fire guns thing. He still uses lever action weapons and revolvers. He's just practiced enough with them that they may as well be rapid fire.

None of that helps him right now as he takes the burst of gunfire to the chest, his leather armor not doing much at all to protect him against the high velocity SMG rounds as they tear into him. He goes down again, but it's not for long, as he picks himself back up.

"One of these days I oughta think about upgradin'...But for now I think I'll stick with what I know."

Wounded but not out, Jericho grabs his second revolver with his left hand, and raises it up, firing both as quick as he can in controlled, aimed shots at his target.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
But does it have a name? And is it worth trading for a certain scheming ex-wife of a certain suspenders-wearing spaceship captain?

"Oh, look out.. Ariah's pulled a gun, too! Nice, shiny affair, that is..." comments Mal, as the witch-vampire lets loose with a burst in the cowboy's direction.

"And she's got him! Another hit!"

The crowd roars their approval, as the fight begins to escalate. Both sides scream frantically for their champion; as right now, it's neck and neck.

"Jericho's back up again! And he's got -another- of those revolvers!" calls Mal, leaning forward to see the ensuing attack. "A hit! Another hit! And another!" The crowd is loving this. They're going mad, as the two trade shots.

Ariah (56) has posed:
It's been a long time since Ariah's gotten herself in a gunfight. Going by -actual- calendar reckoning, at least sixty to seventy years. As the shots come her way, she breathes deep, lowering the firearm and lifting a hand. Her staff, plunged into the sand before her, lights up. The runes on the surface of the length ignite rapidly as the bullets come her way. The rapid series of slugs would be direct hits on her were it not for the shimmering, white-blue hued half-dome of energy that rises before her.

Each bullet crashes into it as if it were glass, however, and it's clear from the fractures and cracks racing along the surface from each spiderweb-flanked mark that the energy fueling it is waning fast. She yanks her staff out of the sand before the whole thing can shatter, diving to the side behind a tree as she feels her energy reserves draining from the magical exertion.

The rest of the energy in the staff? She steps out from behind the shroom-tree, cloak still fluttering in the breeze, and swings it at the air towards Jericho. The rest of the power disrcharges from the remaining ruins, a series of small, concussive seeker missiles racing towards the skilled gunslinger.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
See, this is why Jericho is starting to hate magic. It's always coming out of nowhere with stuff that just outright shouldn't be possible to do. Jericho ducks down to try to evade as many of those magical mini missiles as he can, but there's no way to evade all of them, and several explosions engulf him. When the smoke clears, he's still alive, though worse for wear, by the looks of things.

He shakes his head a bit, and then looks down inside of his jacket, "Aw hell." Seems one of those explosions lit off the fuse on one of his sticks of TNT. Good thing it's long enough to not have just outright gone off. Jericho grabs it, and hauls off through the air with it, at his opponent.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
And again, the crowd goes crazy as Ariah brings magic back into the mix. Both defensive, and offensive, this time. The witch's fan section roars their approval as the woman fires back with the seekers, and then again once they find their mark.

"Spacial-temporal flux..." says a new voice on the microphone; a teenaged girl, by the sound of it.

"Self-targeting. Cuncussive impact," the voice intones, as the crowd simultaneously cheers Ariah's hit, and looks confusedly towards the source of the odd new commentator.

"Gorramit, River! Give that here!" Jayne says, shouldering his way back over to the microphone. The much more slight figure of the curly-haired maiden is elbowed away from the mic, and slinks off towards her chair once more.

"I can still kill you with my brain..." she reminds him.

"Ooh! That's an explosion!" comments Jayne, rather unnecesarily. "Cowboy's tossed some type of explosive back at the witch-chick!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
The calm, calculating voice coming over the speakers briefly confuses Ariah. How many people are up there this time? There's more important things to worry about right now, though. The stick of TNT is something the white-haired sorceress is familiar with. She barely has time to dive out of the way when it lands nearby and explodes, sending her tumbling a few extra meters in the sand, smoke rising from her clothes and little nicks of shrapnel dotting her clothes from the sand.

She picks herself up, and quickly, internally thankful that Jericho hasn't tried setting her on /fire/ yet. If the audience wants thunder and flash, though, they've got it! Another charge of magical energy, light glowing under her sleeves as she seats her staff in the sand again. Then both hands swing outwards. Volleyball-sized spheres of energy rush towards Jericho, and much like their previous, golfball-sized brethren, explode into concussive force and heat energy. They're much slower to track, however...

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
Well thankfully for her, Jericho doesn't have any fire based weapons. Will that change in the future? Maybe. He should have brought some molotovs, but he didn't think about it. Too late to worry now.

The larger energy balls slam into Jericho, setting off their explosions and sending him rolling across the ground in a smoldering heap. It looks like he might be done, until he pushes himself back to his feet. He's thankful his duster is as resiliant to damage as it is.

Ranged ain't working, he was doing much better in melee. Time to close the gap. There's a bright flash around Jericho, as he charges up, the spectral image of a bull appearing around him, as he rushes forward. Speed beyond what he's shown before, he hauls back again to deliver a massive haymaker. But with his super powered Bull Rush, he's going to hit a lot closer to a truck than a human.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
"Some more magic coming in from Ariah!" calls out the voice of Serenity's captain. How he regained control of the microphone is unclear, though it may have something to do with the enormous pitcher of beer that's just been brought into the commentator's box.

"And she's got 'em! Another hit!" comments Mal.

Once again, the crowd roars its approval as the damage accumulates, and magic flies.

Jericho's back on his feet!" calls Mal, once again leaning forward through the empty window pane to get a better view of the ensuing scene. That same window pane shakes with the fury of the crowd's shout, as they erupt into cheers again. Probably why there's no glass there in the first place.

And Jericho lands a massive haymaker!" calls Mal, as the cowboy's fist strikes home.

Ariah (56) has posed:
Ariah might be getting a little more used to her opponent's duster of tricks, but she doesn't sit back and make assumptions. The sudden flare of energy and the sight of the bull puts her on her guard immediately. The speed is even less expected, and she has no time to pick up her staff, instead opting to block with her arms. There's a crunch of bone from the impact, even the Elite-tier vampiress feeling fractures and fragments, sending her feet inches deeper into the soft sand.

But where a normal human would've likely been pulverized, she grits her teeth as blood soaks her sleeves. Her own blood. No jagged bone fragments stab through the fabric, but it's clear there's a grisly sight inside of there. There's no show of fangs yet, but the light in her eyes flares. Her staff out of reach for the moment and her forearms trying to piece themselves back together, Ariah opts for a magical counter-attack.

Hauling one foot out of the sand, she lurches forward and stomps it right back down, light briefly shining through her clothing as it races down her form and into the force of the impact. She's opting for another shockwave, the concussive force enhanced by the rocks and sand underfoot.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
The shockwave of force is more than enough to send Jericho sailing back through the air, especially since his feet weren't planted or anything after the attack. He really hates magic, he thinks, as he sails through the air and comes down hard on the sand. He tumbles end over end and then eventually rolls to a stop. A groan escapes him, the only sign he's still alive.

He rolls over onto his side, and pushes himself up to a knee. A knee is fine, he thinks, as he reaches over his back and grabs the Winchester repeater there. A quick double tap from this should keep her at a distance and enable him some time to catch his breath.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
The crowd erpts in a pair of cheers again, as the pair exchange blows once more. Though, the witch-assasin's supporters look a bit happier, this time around.

"Ariah nails him! A massive magical blast, and the cowboy is knocked off his feet again!" calls another new voice, this one belonging to the ship's cheery mechanic. She looks over unsuredly to Mal, who flashes an encouraging grin, and a thumbs-up.

"Wow!" she says. "And...OH! He's back up again!" Jericho's side of the stadium starts to go nuts, as their hero somehow manages to find his feet again.

"He's actually back up again! And... and...He got her! Another gun!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
"You have an impressive array of tools," Ariah uses the time the cowboy is tumbling to retrieve her staff and focus on healing, though her blood-soaked sleeves are evident as well as that now-dried spot on her hip. "And you are reslilient," she adds when her opponent pulls himself up. There is respect in her voice, though aside from the chill, that's about the only thing.

But that rifle comes up, and she starts to move. Slower than the first time, but still at a dead sprint for a human. The two shots ring out, a bullet cutting a streak in her cheek, the other pinging above her shoulder and leaving a hole in her cloak along with the red line of the light wound. The escalation isn't more explosions, instead she draws her sword. Perhaps another crowd favorite, the silver runesaber hidden within her staff. Now dual-wielding she closes the distance and swings both. The staff aimed at the rifle to try and knock it aside, the blade gleaming in the sun as she thrusts with it.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
The rifle gets knocked away, as Jericho's reaction times are starting to slow. It clatters into the sand and he soon finds himself impaled on that blade, which finds it's way past his ribs and through him cleanly. He looks surprised, the pain sudden and somewhat unexpected.

But he's not done yet. These fights, she won't kill him, so he knows he can get away with pushing himself a little further than normal. He plants his foot, and then shoves himself forward, deeper onto that blade, as his own twin hidden blades free themselves and he thrusts them upwards, aiming for her abdomen with them, knowing there won't be any pesky bones to get in the way of all those sweet, squishy organs there.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
"Whoa-ho-ho!" Kaylee's still on the mic. "Where'd she pull that from??" asks the ship's mechanic.

"No. Really. Where'd she get that.." Glancing aside: "Is that allowed, Cap'n?"

"Encouraged!" comes the cheery, devil-may-care response from Serenity's captain. Kaylee gives a sort of excited grin, then looks back to the microphone.

"Ariah pulls a SWORD! And she knocks Jericho's rifle right out of his hands!"

This crowd just loses it, at this point. Bullets, magic, and now SWORDS? Sweet! A renewed chant of "Ariah...Ariah...ARIAH!" starts up from the witch's half of the stadium.

But then the chants almost all-at-once turn to a collective gasp which is then drowned out by the deafening roar of approval from Jericho's fans, as he pulls his own hidden blades.

"Oh-hooo! This is far from over! Jericho's got blades too!" comes the shout from the commentator's box.

Ariah (56) has posed:
The witch doesn't twist the blade, nor does she yank on it. It's a moment of pause, one precious moment, to see if her opponent is done. But when he lurches forward and pushes the blade further into himself, the long, slender saber shining red with the cowboy's blood, her eyes widen. Then the reaction to those hidden blades is exactly what one would expect, perhaps even hope for. It's pure surprise, the spring-loaded knives driving up and into her.

Her uniform is nothing against a good knife, and vampire or not, her body is still human in terms of where the squishy parts are placed. She can feel the twin blades piercing her organs, driving up under her ribs, doing tremendous harm. Crimson starts to bloom from the wounds, soaking her clothes, mingling with Jericho's blood in a surprisingly intimate clash of two combatants. The witch tries to gasp, but it's choked, there's a gurgle, and she coughs blood.

The two fighters are trapped together for heartbeats, and then Jericho can hear rasped words, "Not a stake." Then the sound of her fangs extending. She throws her head down towards his neck and aims to bite, to sink her fangs in and forge that momentary neural connection. Should she latch on, moments of paralysis, the forced connection holding to nerves. And what's more, she can drink, trickles of life to revitalize her own grievous injuries.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
No, they're not a stake. And Jericho pays dearly for the fact that they're not a stake, as her mouth comes down and latches onto his unarmored neck. He lets out a cry of pain, the feeling surging through him as she tears into his flesh. It hurts more than a bite should, and for good reason. But the cowboy is made out of stern stuff, and despite his lack of experience fighting the supernatural, he's not out of the game just yet.

Using the last of his strength, he pulls his arms back inside of the duster, and tosses them forward again, while at the same time reaching out to kick a foot at Ariah, and kick her away from him. He scrambles backwards, retreating, or so it would seem.

In truth, he's not retreating. Just moving to a safe distance. He left his bandolier of TNT at her feet. The TNT in and of itself is harmless. But it's also flamable. He pulls a single shotgun shell off of his belt, a bright red one, instead of the darker red of the others, and chambers it into his 1887. He falls to a knee, the shotgun feeling way too heavy. As blood runs down his face and chest, he sights in with the weapon as best he can. It won't matter too much, though. This shell is special.

It's a Dragon's Breath shell.

When he pulls the trigger, the shotgun roars with a blast of flames that covers the distance between himself and the vampire in the blink of an eye. It should also be more than enough to ignite the remaining dynamite.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
Both sides of the stadium gasp. As does Kaylee, up in the commentator's booth. The poor ship's mechanic covers her mouth, turning white and hastily turning away from the scene.

"YEAH-HA-HA!" says the familiar voice of Jayne, cutting through the almost perfect, momentary silence of the stadium. That's right when Ariah's half of the crowd goes ballistic. Clearly, this bite seems to be a bit of a fan favorite.

"Clearly, the same is true for Jayne, who steps back from the mic, though not quick enough to prevent his words from being amplified over the crowd. "I'll be in my bunk..."

"Well...That certainly puts taking a piece of your opponent into a bit of a new light.." says the voice of Serenity's captain, once more taking the helm. No pun intended.

"Ariah gets a bite out of Jericho! That's gotta hurt.."

"But he's still on his feet!" says Mal, clearly in awe of that fact. "Loading the shotgun...Annnnnd..." he says, as the gunslinger sights in the shot.

The audible 'awww' from Jericho's side of the stadium serves to commentate the next point, as the shot goes wide.

Ariah (56) has posed:
Paralyzing pain. Ariah's bite can bring bliss, or agony. She opts for the latter, though still understimates Jericho's resolve. But she gets precious moments to drink before she's thrown off. The twin points of her fangs retract quickly, partially to keep from ripping into the cowboy's neck and partially to keep her fangs from getting hurt. She stumbles back, staff and sword in hand, lips stained red with the gunslinger's blood.

She licks it clean, already feeling the quick snack start to revitalize her, then she looks down. Lunessa had done similar in her fight with the wolfess, leaving a mine at her feet. As Jericho racks the shell, she sheathes her sword and picks the bundle up. As the shotgun comes up, she throws the dynamite at her opponent. The eruption of fire from the barrel engulfs the sticks and triggers the explosion far further from Ariah than perhaps hoped.

The front of her uniform is a bloody mess, but even through it, bright blue-white light can be seen, the witch pulling her renewed energy into one more spell barrier, the flames and explosion washing over the half-dome of mana, shining bright in the arena for all to see as she siphons power from the flames in clearly-seen spell tendrils.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
"Oh mother fu-" The rest of Jericho's statement is thankfully censored by the explosion as it backfires right into his face. He's hurting bad, that much is clear. He's going to have to do something. What could he possibly have left? Just his shotgun, which survived the blast. He'll need to make it work.

Somehow still concious, though not really on his feet, Jericho swings the shotgun around to put in a new shell, and fires again. He repeats the process three more times. Each shell loaded with a different type of ammo, Slugs and buckshot, in alternating loads. It should be a huge spray of pellets with a couple of solid striking slugs in the middle. He can barely see through the blood now flowing down over his eyes, so he very well might miss again, that's why he's covering all of his bases.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
The crowd's roar is deafening, at this point, as things get down to the wire. There's not a single person still seated in the whole arena; everyone's on their feet and rooting for their hero.

"Ariah gets him again!" calls Serenity's captain, as Ariah launches some more magic at the gunslinger.

"He's up! He's still up!" shouts the captain, clearly starting to get into things now. "Jericho takes another hit and keeps on walking! This guy won't quit easy-like!"

"And he's firing back!" adds the captain, as Jericho's fan section goes crazy.

"It's a hit! A big one!"

Ariah (56) has posed:
It's a hail of lead and shot, Ariah still recovering from being filled with good assassin steel. She is already stalking towards Jericho, the lack of a confirmed 'kill' making her close the distance. As the gunslinger keeps unloading, she keeps advancing. "Extremely. Resilient," she states again, barely heard over the roar of the crowd and gunfire. She uses her speed more to try and get closer quicker rather than avoid the shots, resulting in more holes in her uniform, small and large, and more blood seeping through, a trail of red left to paint the sand and mark her passage.

The SMG is brought up in one hand, a spray of bullets peppering Jericho's position until a series of small clicks and a beep signifies the magazine is empty. By this point she's at point blank and breathing hard, the magazine loader popping up and the empty bouncing out, smoke rising from it.

Jericho Hawke (270) has posed:
He is resilient, but so is she. More so, it seems, as Jericho's not going to be dodging much of anything, let alone somebody empying the magazine of a Hyperion SMG. The bullets riddle him, and he slumps down to the ground, body finally having had enough of the abuse it's been handed.

Malcolm Reynolds (273) has posed:
"And that's it!" calls Mal, amidst the deafening roar of the stadium.

"She's done it! Jericho is out for the count, after a burst from Ariah's SMG! Ain't going to see a harder, closer fight than that one.." adds the Captain.

Even Jericho's side is applauding madly, now, after the conclusion of the fight. The crowd gradually starts to disperse, as medical personnel rush to deal with the lingering injuries sustained by the two combatants. And there's plenty to deal with, in that regard. The lanky figure of Serenity's on-board medic seems a bit restless, even just watching the injuries go momentarily untreated, from afar.

"That's a wrap, folks!" calls out the captain's voice, clapping as he stands up from the microphone, and turns to face the rest of his crew. Of course, that's right when the door gets kicked in by a couple of uniformed WMAT security officials.

"Time to go," says the captain, quickly. And they're off to the races.