Scene #2758: WMAT BQ1 Staren vs The Bloody Crow

Owner	Pose
Annalise	The Bloody Crow has nowhere to hide in a land like this. The rolling hills offer little substantial cover to someone who prefers to keep to himself. Fortunately, stealth isn't the name of the game today. Today it's all about combat. Today it's all about learning. He stands in the middle of a recently-harvested corn field. Pleasant breezes ruffle the red-tinged feathers comprising his strange and iconic cloak. The sunlight reflects off his ornate mask, highlighting the intricate designs that hide his face from chin to brow. He wears so much black so thoroughly that he must be sweltering, but he displays no outward signs of discomfort. The Bloody Crow toys with his blade. He waits.
Staren	The past few days have been something of a relaxing break for Staren. No missions have come up since retrieving the Lost Logia on Ainsley's world. But now it's time for his first WMAT match of the year... ...against a complete unknown the Multiverse has never heard of. With no idea of what at all to expect, Staren feels a bit uneasy as he walks out into the starting area in his powered armor. He looks at The Bloody Crow curiously as he approaches, nods courteously as he takes his position, then turns, smiles, and waves to the crowd before turning back to Crow. A sword and a pistol. That tells him /something/ about fighting style. Wearing all black and not seeming to mind. Is he immune to the heat or is it some kind of super-advanced, cool fabric? A quick check with his sensors confirms Crow is pretty darn hot. Hmm. Perhaps some kind of fire powers...? "You have me at something of a disadvantage..." Staren states. "I don't know anything about you, but you've got two WMATs of my fights to review." Staren shifts into a fighting stance, and smirks. "Ah well. That will make this an /interesting/ challenge. Can I figure you out? Let's find out..." Staren's visor closes, and then he draws the pistol off his belt and fires a few shots to test Crow's reactions and defenses. Curiously, the protoabstractum laser is cold, freezing instead of superheating. Staren's testing that 'fire powers' theory. Then Staren immediately starts running to the side, away from the audience stands. He's not going to just stand there and trade shots, after all!
Annalise	"If it makes you feel any better," the Crow answers, his voice a rasp of amusement, "I've not taken the time to learn anything about you, either. Why spoil the surprise?" The chuckle he lets loose as he dashes forward isn't very kind, but it's not malicious, either. It's the laugh of a man whose sense of joy has been twisted by his lifestyle. Is Staren perceptive enough to recognize it? Can his sensors detect mental imbalance? The cloaked man twists his way through the scattered laser fire. The first shot takes him square in the shoulder, dousng his garment in a sheen of fast-fading frost, but it's not quite enough to delay his approach. His feather cloak sweeps back behind him from the momentum of his movements, and flares and ruffles as he dodges and twirls. His long sword dips low to sweep through the severed corn stalks. As another laser grazes past his mask, he vanishes into a puff of fog. He reappears before Staren as if his strides had never been interrupted by a flash of invisibility. The Bloody Crow swings his blade up and to the right in a swift diagonal stroke, followed by a harsh, chopping downswing and another spate of dull laughter as tainted by blood as the feathers he wears. "Intriguing!"
Staren	The Bloody Crow's reply just gets a "Hmm." as Staren considers this new information. It might tell him more about what kind of man he is, but right now it's just one piece of a puzzle. This guy is fast. He's going to have to look for openings and take shots when it counts... When Staren sees his opponent running /towards/ him, he stops and prepares to move into a different direction -- but then Crow is suddenly /right in front of him/. Stylized insect wings of transparent orange energy suddenly appear behind his back, silently fluttering as Staren hops back with a sudden speed boost, the blade as it misses his visor by an inch. Damn, Staren thinks, fristration flashing across his face, I wasn't planning to reveal that until later... Staren's left hand reaches to his belt and draws his beam saber, the purple energy blade springing into existance to block the second swing, Staren starting to stumble back. He begins to fall, but doesn't seem concerned, returning his pistol to his hip where it sticks by magnets or something. Suddenly, Staren's wings are buzzing again, and he's righted and charging in a short arc. His now-empty hand reaches for the beam sword and pulls a /second/ one out of it, somehow, then levels it in a charging thrust at the Bloody Crow's side opposite the hand holding his sword.
Annalise	"Hah...!" Not a laugh at all; this time, pain contorts the Crow's muffled voice as the surprise second blade slashes through his side and leaves a bloody wound. The man springs backward in a short hop of his own before taking to his knee in brief respite. "Aren't you tricky. Heh, heh...oh, I've tricks of my own." Bullets hit the air in a silvery superheated spray as The Bloody Crow draws his own firearm and pulls the trigger at just the right height. The action is fluid, practiced, and is precisely matched by the forward spring from his crouch. As Staren tries to contend with the bullets however he might, the Crow quickly closes the gap again, another intuitive teleport taking him farther and faster than his feet alone could manage. In another sleek ruffle of feathers, he thrusts his sword forward in a wicked stab, attempting to compensate for any retreat Staren might attempt again. "Bug, cat, whatever you are, you're far too slow to escape the hunt!"
Staren	Staren is... surprised at the pained reaction. Man, has he just been fighting inhuman monsters for too long? At the assertion that Crow has tricks of his own, Staren mutters, "I'm sure..." As bullets fly, Staren's forcefield flickers into visibility, layered, concentric transparent amber spheres around him. Where the bullets hit, they leave little 'holes' ringed in white where the field's taken stress, cracks spiderwebbing outward. The front half of the outermost layer breaks apart and collapses into a shower of quickly-fading sparkles before the field fades from visibility again. Staren's taken a couple of steps back, pushed back by the impacts, and looks like he's about to start running to the side again when the Crow teleports again, right up in his face! Ugh, his forcefield can't protect against attacks like that! Staren tries to parry, at least deflecting the stab from a direct hit into slicing through some of his left upper arm and shoulder armor, leaving a visible groove. Sparks fly as it hits components in his arm, but it's not enough to disable the armor there. Staren looks slightly pissed to realize his forcefield won't help as much in this fight. Crow's up close and pushing him off-balance, /not/ a position he wants to be in. Staren shifts the position of his right arm a bit, but he's not going for a sword attack -- actually, he ends up slashing into his own torso, but the blade automatically shortens so as not to damage his armor. Convenient! This also means the twin beam cannons on the armor's forearm are in position to blast Crow point blank. Kapow!
Annalise	The Bloody Crow's rattled. Flattening himself to the ground saves him from taking a direct shot, but the beams blasting his cloak to a more tattered state must still do some harm to his body to draw out the pained growl he produces. "Stabbing yourself?!" he cries in -- is it alarm? Anger? Triumph? The man's shout is as difficult to discern as his masked face. "Be careful! Some might consider that tactic crazed!" The elaborate pistol he wields snaps upright. The Crow's finger squeezes twice, emptying the repeating weapon's own twin barrels in swift succession. Again, he hopes to stagger his foe beneath a deadly bullet spray, that he might have the time to get back to his feet and to truly counter-attack. But the sword's not all that necessary whenever he's so close, is it? At this distance, the bullets themselves should be plenty effective. The Bloody Crow gets back to his feet anyway. Smoke etches a fading trail through the air, following his pistol back to his hip. His sword comes up into a defensive angle.
Staren	Staren blinks. "No, see, it-- AGH!" The first shot hits a forcefield emitter disc on his chest, triggering a chain reaction that blows out another one, leaving two of the five as smoking pieces of metal and plastic. The second in the same spot obliterates the pieces of the disc and takes a pockmark-surrounded chunk out of Staren's armor, sending the boy stumbling back again. "The blade automatically shortens so I don't!" Staren charges, reversing his grip on the swords as he hopes to stab the Bloody Crow while he's down, but then he's back up again. Staren doesn't stop, though -- with the left sword he tries to push the Crow's blade away (It's weightless, but has the power armor's strength behind it) and with the right he aims a stab for the chest, trying to push in close and keep Crow from maneuvering!
Annalise	'See' -- huh, that's something for Staren to consider. The Bloody Crow can't see much of anything through the mask he wears. There doesn't appear to be any eyeslits or any mesh to enable sight. If he's blind-fighting, it's entirely possible he missed the nuances of Staren's last action. Maybe he sensed the stabbing motion, but not the blade's collapse? The weightlessness of Staren's weapon may also be giving the cat-boy more of an advantage if the Crow is acting on sound and feel alone. Without the expected heft and force and sound of a traditional weapon, he has less to act against. His use of a steel blade and his attire suggest he comes from a less advanced world than Staren's -- another disadvantage. If he has no experience against energy weapons and the like, how can the Crow possibly fight Staren at his best? His sword is knocked away by Staren's push. His side is left open to the secondary stab. The Bloody Crow hunches over, letting out a loud, agonized shout. "NRRAAH! Ha -- haaah -- you bastard! You clever /snake/ -- " The Crow whips backward, using a swirl of his cloak to disguise his motions. Hunched again, he lifts his head toward Staren, his breath sounding like a ragged echo. After a moment, he laughs again. "You aren't so sadistic after all, are you? I misjudged you. My apologies." The Bloody Crow straightens up as much as he can. He remains slightly bent toward his wounded side. He flips back his cloak, and splays his free fingers across the ugly wound. "Terrible. I've been hurt. My blood spilled by you. Terrible...heh." The long, curved edge of his sword is laid against the wound. The Crow slides it back and down, letting his own blood drip along the blade in a red smear. The weapon gleams with a new, lurid light. "But perhaps it's good for me." A red glow follows his sword as the Crow vanishes into a forward leap. The leap ends on the other side of his teleport. His sword chops down against Staren from overhead.
Staren	"I didn't think it was /that/ clever..." Staren's confused. A charging stab using his offhand to knock their blade aside. Isn't that pretty standard? No, it must be something /else/ about what he did... has he stumbled onto the Crow's weakness? "I'm really not." sadistic, that is. "It's okay..." Staren looks... worried, backing away as the Crow surveys the damage. "Um, are you alright? I figured you were supernaturally tough--" Staren starts to explain, then stops, staring at the bloody sword. What is he... glowing? Staren just does not know what this means! He's getting pretty used to the teleports by now, though -- the leap gives him time to activate his forcefield. But the unexpected destruction of two elements means that it only slows the sword down a bit before flickering away again. Staren's raised his blade to block, but the problem of the energy blade shows here -- Crow's heavier sword just pushes it right back into him. At least it shuts off! Crow's sword cleaves through his shoulder armor, catching on the groove from before and tearing armor away, baring wires and mechanical muscles. This leaves Crow really close. Staren reacts, not even thinking -- he has to get this guy away! His left hand lets go of his sword, which vanishes. The right blade deactivates. Staren grabs with his left hand and tries to drive his right fist into Crow's chest and then SHOVE will all of the armor's strength, shoving him away. "Urgh!" He at least has the presence of mind to blast, point-blank, with the beam cannons again! "Your blood on your blade makes it more powerful? Maybe /you're/ the masochist!"
Annalise	The sudden PUNCH lands with surprising effectiveness. It doesn't feel like the Crow is wearing much armor at all! He must trust to his speed and instincts to see to his survival. Another shot from the beam cannon puts that to the test. Again, the Bloody Crow jukes to the side in a swift motion that pushes the limits of what any human reflexes can manage; he /is/ fast. The blast still catches him, though. He stumbles back, slipping around on his heels as he flinches from the burning injury. The breathy huff of laughter to next emerge challenges Staren's conclusion. "Is it the man who is the sadist, or is it his sword?" The sword itself still gleams with a roiling red glow. "Are you a bleeder yourself?" the man in black wonders aloud. "Or are you some strange thing that lacks it? Let me crack you open again, and we'll find out." The fog consumes him as he tumbles toward Staren at a leftward angle. He reappears at Staren's side mid-roll, his sword already cleaving an arc up at the catboy's hip. The tumble ends with the Crow behind Staren.
Staren	Staren's not expecting an attack in that position. His sword is on the wrong side, his attempt to block it useless. The sword slices into the armor at Staren's hip, cutting and peeling it back slightly, again exposing wires and electronic muscles under the plating. "Ugh! You keep using the wrong word!" Staren clenches his fist and stamps a foot before turning to face Crow. "/Sadism/ is when you take pleasure in hurting others. /Masochism/ is when you like hurting yourself! And it's armor, I'm pretty squishy under it." Staren looks at the Crow. One of his shoulder missile racks rotates into position and fires, the minimissile a round-ended cylinder a little over an inch wide by several inchhes long. It attempts to home in on Crow before exploding, and even if it misses, plasma superheats the air in a 30'-wide fireball! Dodge this, thinks Staren. Hoping Crow won't know what a missile is and just teleport out of the blast, anyway...
Annalise	The Bloody Crow laughs. For once, it sounds genuine, and there's a surprised quality to it, like he doesn't expect to laugh at all. "Didn't know I'd get a language lesson at the same time I'd get a fight. Again I ask, is it the man who enjoys the pain, or is it the sword?" His head cocks up at an attentive angle as Staren's missile rack ratchets into position. "Heh!" He starts to move, dashing to the left in a hurried semicircle, the corn stalks crunching beneath his feet. It's not enough of an effort to escape the missile that fires. There isn't a direct impact, but the blast that results is enough to throw the Crow to the ground in a winded sprawl. Little embers trail from the singed ends of the cloak he'd tried to hide beneath to protect himself. The mask he wears emits its own steam. It must be /unbearable/, but...the Crow just lets out a faint, unsettled titter, and a few heavy coughs. "A real wretch after all..." Without looking right at Staren, the Crow lifts his arm, cocks his pistol, and fires. It's almost like his arm is its own entity, the way it aims. His body leans into the start of another tumble. As he rolls, the crimson light fades from his sword. He puts himself on the path of another charge. His second barrel empties, another spray of bullets leading the way.
Staren	"I don't know. Most swords can't feel anything. But maybe yours is special." Staren replies, and starts turning to face Crow. "Not a wretch, just--" The malfunctioning forcefield takes the first spray of pellets, but starts to break apart before one of the projector discs just blows out, and the remaining layers flicker out again, the configuration rendered unstable by the emitters Crow blasted earlier. The second spray pockmarks Staren's upper-left side as he turns... including the exposed area of the upper arm and shoulder. Wires and hydraulic lines are shredded. Hydraulic fluid starts to pour down his arm, and blood, though less of it, can be seen under the shredded components. "Agh!" Staren cries in pain, then hisses through gritted teeth. His medichines kick in, dulling the pain somewhat and trying to stop the bleeding. He stumbles back, switching weapons again. Beam saber holstered, a large chromed revolver pulled from his bag. He turns his good side towards Crow and takes aim... but instead of firing, a micromissile, about the size of a marker, launches from his forearm. It's a feint. Staren immediately leaps backward, some thrusters on his suit /and/ the return of his wings both boosting the jump. Staren's hoping Crow will teleport to avoid the missile, and then Staren fires. The gun created by a god of mad science fires two bullets, one behind the other, from the same barrel. It's /most/ effective against monsters, but it's still a pretty powerful weapon on its own. Good thing Staren's aiming for the shoulder. Of course, he fires the beam cannons too, just to add more injury to injury. "--Practical." Staren finishes, narrowed eyes watching Crow.
Annalise	The Bloody Crow smirks through his voice. "There it is. The smell of blood. How sweet, how familiar. You do bleed after all, and now I am most interested in your defeat." It sounds like the tournament must be a secondary goal. The missile fires. Chuckling to himself, the Bloody Crow skids to a halt, and quicksteps into a new trajectory, a puff of dust and fog marking the position where once he stood. Staren's correct to predict the teleport. It seems he's developed a good understanding of The Bloody Crow's tactics in only a short amount of time, for not only is the prediction accurate, but his feint is, too. The missile pushes the Crow into a corner of sorts. He emerges from his short teleport into a direct shot, gun catching him at such a close range he's thrown backwards by the surprise impact. A ragged hole is punched through his shirt and his shoulder. The gory flesh revealed is human. The second bullet catches the Crow at almost the same spot. Staren's aim is good. It leaves the shoulder ragged and useless as a chewed-up piece of meat. Fortunately, the next blaster fire only serves to keep the Crow from reacting right away in an andrenaline-fueled rage. Two smoking craters appear to either side of his sprawled body, marking the points where Staren's blaster fire impacts the field. The Bloody Crow lays still for a long moment. His breathing is a hollow rasp. His sword lays beside him, no longer able to be gripped by his main hand. "Oh...what a sight...what a pain..." He mutters to himself, not to Staren. "...how sad my lady must be at the sight of this..." He grunts, peels his torso off the ground, and scoops up his sword in his off hand, only to tuck it beneath his armpit. Holding it there, he brings up his pistol, and takes a careful aim at Staren. The shots that ring out are meant to herd the catboy in a particular direction. The Crow intercepts him, of course. If Staren leaps, he leaps, too. If Staren runs, he runs, too. However he must see it done, the Bloody Crow shrieks with laughter, and lets his sword express his anger in a devastating thrust. The tip of his sword is aimed with incredible precision for Staren's own shoulder. An eye for an eye, so to speak.
Staren	Staren winces at the damage he's done, staring a bit. They have healers here, but still, that looks painful. Staren thinks maybe the man will yield now... But no, he's up and shooting! The field takes a shot, the good side of his armor takes the second, but he starts running to the side reflexively. The Crow does his teleport thing, Staren fails to block, and-- "AAAAGH! You jerk!" Ah, /shit/, that hurts. The blade plunges into flesh and bone. Staren has seldom been injured like this -- he always fights in armor, or in a war machine. Or /as/ a war machine. This is one of the most painful attacks he's recieved in his life! Part of him wants to lash out, and he starts to bring the Annihilator to bear... but the more reasonable part of him recognizes that with both of them injured like this, Crow fights better than he could hope to. The odds of victory at this point are slim. Not none, but perhaps not worth the risk of getting either of them killed. And, maybe, the risk of even worse pain. A primal thing Staren's really not used to dealing with. He lowers the gun, it tumbles to the ground, and he raises his good hand in surrender. "I give, I give!" Once he's had a few seconds to calm down, his angry, hurt expression calms somewhat. "That was..." he sucks air through his teeth in pain, "well fought. I hope it was an interesting challenge, going up against me with no knowledge. Your capabilities were certainly..." he sucks in another breath. "...Unexpected." He lowers his hand, extends it to shake, tries to smile a bit. Jeeze that hurts. "Good match. Bloody Crow."
Annalise	Much like Staren, the Crow seems taken aback; however, unlike Staren who's surprised by his own pain, the Crow is surprised to receive surrender. "You...yield?" He straightens as best he can, his head and body bent at a pained yet inquisitive angle. "Another dangerous strategy...where I come from. Heh, heh..." The wind ruffles the tatters feathers forming his cape. For a moment, his silhouette looks more birdlike than human. "So it is. I accept your yield. I accept your compliments. You have my own, of course. A match well-fought, whoever you are." The Crow looks down. He kneels, and extends his fingertips toward a smear of Staren's spilled blood and hydraulic fluid. "Not a trophy to be found, eh? A pity. Now all I've got are more scars to tell the story of our battle. Ah well. Another day." He rises, and starts to limp toward the sidelines.