Duel:Demelza v Hector

Location: Fenced in yard Judges: Jerralith, Verse, Taeme Winner: Demelza, unanimous

Hector stands in the cluttered, worn down area that previously bore residence of a family; now long gone. Now nothing more than a decrepit hide-away, the weathered pillar of gates welcomed those who would enter its maw and take in its dull, lifeless scenery. Hector stands, arms crossed as Demelza finally ushered up the courage to face him. He smirks and bows to the female, wishing not to waste the time on grinding down her will and eventually breaking her. Dressed in a shirt and leather pants, Hector would forego his usual attire of armor for his native body. Shaking, muscles tensing, the Draconian hunched over as blight lingered in his veins, visible to any eye, and the black scales of his Father's and his own ancenstry came to bear upon the flesh of the man, steeling his body in key places. Sprouting from his wrists, his shoulders, his forearms and thighs, the male grunted and crunched his garments, a black and red aura leaking off his form, changing him into what he truly was. Finally, it is over, the male stands up right and breaths deeply, now beginning to walk forward to Demelza. He would swiftly pick up, launch toward the female, then cut loose with a punch that would shatter her jaw; yet, knowing she would not stand still, the male dips back and spins on his heel, throwing his fist out in an maneuver that, if landed, would crush the only side of her face one could consider attractive.

Demelza didn't have much choice as she stared down the oncoming draconian. She hadn't known he was a lizard, and she couldn't even believe that he was actually uglier as a draconian than as a human. What could possibly be uglier than a human, honestly? But it was this thought process that left her responding a bit slower than he anticipated, but with plenty of that fermin quickness the rat-like race was famous for. Well they were famous for that, their lack of grooming, their poisons, and their sneaky sneaky ways. And Demelza did love the sneaky. With the fist almost upon her jaw, her form crouches and raises and arm with a metallic clinking as individual chain links rattled skywards in an arcing circle with the intent to snag the arm in a makeshift trap made by black metal and a small weight. Such a maneuver held a price of course, the first punch swinging over head before the backhanded spinning blow caught her hand beneath the wrist with the sound of bone snapping nastily for the dead house to echo back. Eyes watered, pain seared through the limb even as Demelza moved onwards with her own plan. The kama end of her Kusarigama, its chain hopefully wrapped fully around the wrist of the draconian, comes forward with a deadly flurry that was mostly distraction until a yank on the chain was given at the same time the point was sent forwards towards his groin, which was roughly face level with Demelza thanks to her short stature. With luck, she would remove what little good he had in his life and give her time to nurse her arm. But, she honestly didn't think the second part of that thought was going to happen.

Hector felt the satisfying crunch of landing a blow against his enemies. The chain that wrapped around his forearm would not go unnoticed, the Draconian pushing forward as the bladed end of the weapon came thirsting for a piece of his goods, just like any whore he'd ever known, yet simply raising his arm would change its course and embed a simple measure of its deadly edge into the male's chest, his birth right, the iron skin of his Father Chizore, preventing such a bladed weapon to effect him very greatly, yet drawing a small bit of sanguine from its confines within the male body. He smirks, lifting the chain further and grabbing the Kusarigama's handle in mid air. Yet, his "Trapped" hand would come back down to snatch the soft, fermin hair of his opponent and fling her down toward the ground if he was lucky. The Kusarigama following in time, threatening to pierce the gut of the Fermin theif, at the Fallen Draconian's whim. At this point, her weapon was gone, she couldn't hope of out maneuvering Hector of his grip; he'd simply fling her around some more.

Demelza snickered, stupid males and their brute strength. It hadn't failed ever, the same trick never needing to be altered as the draconian plays into the trap as if it wasn't there. The kama was left in his chest, and the rodent was lifted as she hung onto the chain links that attached both the kama and the weight snared around his wrist to her form. It is the first fling that something special happens, a rather loud snap the chain releases just above his grip and allows Demelza to be flung quite a distance away to land rather haphazardly on her injured hand. Despite her ungraceful slide to a stop across the pavment, her leather and fur clad form seemed to be harmed no more than earlier, even as the oddly bent angle of a wrist screamed in protest of its use and the fingers attempted to twitch to see if it had any good left in it. And while the rat thought her fingers moved, in honestly they didn't even budge. But that was okay, she smiled through the pain as a hiss that had begun as the chain detached continued to do so, a piece of silver twine quickly turning red and smoking as it quickly sought out its base hidden inside the link of the severed chain. A hollowed out link that was now clearly showing tiny orange runes inside, ready to release their explosive force when the fuse was done burning itself out. When the silver was gone, there would be an explosion of concussion and fire to hopefully separate the two momentarily and send metallic shrapnel in all directions as the chains were practically disintegrated. A piece whizzed through her ear with a pained yelp as her good hand sought the back of her belt to find a new weapon to strike the brute with while he was distracted with the flashy trick.

Hector cackled as he was left tangling with ghosts. Demelza simply being flung away, then being broken into with her own weapon. Yet, now of all times, the Draconian realizes a fuse burning off of the detached chain and the fingers of the Saurian Descendent snatch under the links, crushing them and tearing them from his wrist with a sudden and violent jerk. Debris of the crushed metal scales the air, the device thrown just to the side of the Draconian, yet not quickly enough. The explosive detonates in mid-air just to the right of Hector, a hail storm of exploding shrapnel and metal launching into the Draconian's exposed shoulder blade, neck, and cheek. The thick skin being the savior here, preventing both deep piercings and lacerations to his form but not preventing the stinging jolt of feeling like having hot needles poked into your skin. The Fallen Draconian tsks, a myriad of metal pieces stuck into the side of his face and his right side, yet not hindering him in the least. A small trickle of blood ran down his face, the subtle chords of red and black energy acting in orchestra as the man grins and searches for the hilt of the short sword at his side. He moves forward, hunting down Demelza as he would, and charges her. He would seek to drive his shoulder into her frail form then finish her off with a thrust of his blade, and pin her against the foundation of the building as nothing more than a Fermin scarecrow.

Demelza finds her opponent to be one heck of a persistent fellow, finding a shoulder just underneath her snout and forcing her teeth to click together with some force. Even as her head rocks back, her hand finds purchase in the grip of a kunai to be tugged from the back of her belt and brought forward to parry the stab with the short sword as she spit up blood from probably biting her tongue. She was getting dizzy, she was getting tired, and that damned hand was throbbing like a boulder had rolled over it. But she thought she was still moving her fingers, so it had to be okay right? She didn't honestly have time to check, and she knew the parry would only delay the man temporarily, and thoughts rapidly processed between those giant ears as droplets of blood ran down the pink flesh towards her scalp from the left one. Her body felt heavy, but she tossed the blade into the air to catch with her teeth before she spun to the side opposite of the sword hopefully now stuck in wood with hopes of giving the draconian a deadly kiss with the blade between her teeth to his forearm of his offhand so that her own one handedness wouldn't slow the draw of a small black goose egg from her satchel. Solid black, except for a small white crack, she turned it in her palm and moved her hand so perhaps the draconian wouldn't see her palm anything and worry more about what wounds she might have inflicted with that deadly bladed kiss.

Hector hopes Demelza has strong teeth because his skin was highly resistant to bladed weapons and would take more than a dizzy, weakening, mouth-wielding Fermin to slash it. He had wondered if perhaps Demelza was not acute enough to pick up on the pattern that these weapons simply did not work in the fashion she wanted them too. Though the man reared back, her attack not going completely undermined, perhaps her determination to cut him had reaped rewards. Or he had finally cornered his foe. (Good duel, I will end it there as I don't believe to completely stop the action just to wait on the votes.)

Demelza crushes the egg, throwing it into the eyes of Hector as she spits the knife forward. All of her energy is spent on this moment, this single movement towards her goal as the knife is snatched out of midair and her form literally becomes a blur as the remains of her physical strength and magical prowess to leap forward in an nearly unseeable fashion and drive the point of the kunai hard underneath the chin of Hector and into his brain. Yanking the blade out clean except for the blood, she watches the body fall.