Duel:Giacomo v Taeme

From HollowWiki
Judges: Rheven, Helich, Satoshi
Winner: Giacomo, unanimous

Giacomo gazes out across the life-filled plain, eerie blue eyes glinting in the moonlight from beneath the hood of his dark blue cloak. Gone are the thoughts and memories of previous encounters with the girl named Taeme, leaving nothing to distract the symbiotic man from the task at hand. But just like their first encounter, he is going to start things off with a 'bang'. Legs bending at the knee to bring the man into a crouch as he reaches beneath the cloak, reappearing with three of Giacomo's specialized throwing knives-designed to hold his lightning until impact, at which point they unleash it in an explosive discharge-. "You should know, Taeme...That thunder is always preceded by lightning." A sudden gust of air thrusts the man's hood from his head just before his right leg pushes off the ground, propelling the man headlong towards the blind girl. After a few steps, the youngest Khamsin brother whips his right arm out towards Taeme three times, pelting a different knife each time. The first is aimed for the girl's left shoulder, while the next one seeks to catch her right thigh, leaving the final knife hurtling about two feet to her left, just in case she dodges that way. If any of the blades happens to strike directly, they will unleash their devastating charge into the intended target, yet the man doesn't need them to be direct hits. Hell, he'll settle for one that just grazes her flesh, for even then, the lightning will be released into the scratch, temporarily numbing -and potentially paralyzing- that limb or area.

Taeme blinks in distracted surprise as a familiar male voice plays through the still night preceding a whipping gust of wind that tears pear and sable strands from the simple braid hanging down her back. Words of thunder and lightning forewarn of possible events to come, turning her direction towards the skies instead of the projectiles loosed from his hands. Heightened senses catch the hint of stirring winds seconds before he becomes temporarily airborne, ears twitching akin to a wolf's as reflexes unleash; muscles retracting with the flowing movement and contortion of her body away from his forward attack. Metal slices through flesh with her movements tearing body her violet gowns and her side, continuing on to land lost in the night. Electricity thrums through her body paralyzing flesh and muscle to leave her right side numbed to feeling and any future damage. Pent fury races through her veins as the leashed wolf inside raises her head begging for premature release, magic humming to life in response to the weathered attack of her foe. Obsidian lashes fall veiling sightless hazel eyes as she continues to move and twist away from where he might be, the winds howling into life kicking up dust and debris into the darkened skies leaving him potentially as blind as she. The momentum of lightning continues, aided by shove of her own abilities to pour from fingertips into the hungry land below. Tremors spread outwards like waves in a pond from where each bolt strikes rushing towards their intended target, shaking loose stones, dirt and any other element present while throwing her to the ground in turn.

Giacomo's eyes go wide, faltering mid-stride as he witnesses the incarnation of fury unleashed, Nature's fury, that is. The earth cracks and shudders beneath where his foot is destined to land, and no amount of muscle movement is going to change the trajectory of his foot. And so, this is how the symbiotic's foot becomes wedged tightly between a rock and a hard place, literally. The eerie blue hues of his eyes surge suddenly, almost mirroring the unleashing seen in his opponent, as he lets the lightning claim him. "Arrrrggghh!" Comes the man's pain-filled cry just before a phenomenal amount of lightning bursts out from his ankle to clear away the mounds of earth before another quake can snap his bones. Now panting, Giacomo holds out his right hand, palm side up, as miniature lightning bolts begin to cascade down his arm. The little streaks appear to be originating from the depths of his eyes, simultaneously sheilding those fragile orbs from flying debris while tinting the world a peculiar shade of blue for the man. Tiny shards of lightning dance about his palm, colliding with one another to form a rough spherical shape: Ball Lightning. Yes, what brilliance, while ball lightning may not give quite the same explosive effects as regular bolts, it offers more maneuverability, and will spread the charge out over a larger area upon contact. A haphazard stumble is attempted in order to dodge more flying earth and plant life, yet the man doesn't fear the lightning, for it will simply add to his reserves. A blow to the left shoulder sends the human to his knees, quickly thrusting the ball lightning straight towards Taeme's chest before clutching at the aforementioned shoulder. Oh yes, that will definitely be a rather nasty bruise in the morning.

Taeme yelps in surprise as she struggles to her feet amidst the rumbling earth below, staggering steps tipping her this way and that. Nails lengthen as flesh and muscle stretches painfully over creaking bones unable to bend or reshape allowing the beast inside to roam free. The lingering thrum of electricity welcomes the newest offensive attack as arctic blue meets violet and pale flesh with a sizzling pop! Like her side, her shoulder goes numb, but not before blinding pain runs down her arms leaving a tingling sensation in her hand. Hanging limply at her side, sluggish; she cradles the appendage to her body as her free arm lashes outwards towards where his voice and the attack seems to have come from. Fingers arch so that elongated claws flash in the pale, silver light bathing the plains from a half-filled moon. Magic and hate burn through her blood, twin emotions warring for supremacy as she struggles to maintain some semblance of control; a strangled growl sounding in harmony to wind's howl. Higher and higher the wind's intensity builds tearing loose bolts of lightning sparking from his eyes and body in an attempt to steal his very weapon away in hopes of leaving him forced to find some other mundane attempt at attacking.

Giacomo just barely manages to raise his left arm up as those elongated claws tear through flesh to rake against bone. Yet his attempt at a block is only partially successful, for the lycan also manages to shred through his shirt to scratch thin gouges into his chest. Panting as his arm falls uselessly to his side while his right arm slashes up, having delved back beneath the cloak to unsheath one of his custom daggers. The upwards slash is made with the intent to catch Taeme's offending claw as it is being pulled away, yet the dagger thuds to the ground just after the apex of his swing. Feeling a very naeseating feeling deep down in the depths of his soul... It's the Lightning being wretched from his body, yet the element within him has developed a mind of its own, and it certainly wants to remain within the symbiotic man. And so that is where it clings, or at least that is where the original bolt from Mr. Khamsin's first lightning strike remains. Thus her plan works, for the most part, as she has successfully stripped him of his main weapon, or at least the portion of it that he uses freely. What remains is the core, the part that never leaves his being, no matter the circumstances. The man yanks one more throwing knife free from its sheath, attempting to whip it at the woman's neck -void of lightning- before pushing himself back in an attempt to put a suitable amount of distance between them.

Taeme hisses as pain blossoms through flesh and muscle and bone as the blades edge connects missing major blood vessels, her hand turning upwards leaving a gash starting at the corner of one palm to wind round her arm towards the opposite corner of her elbow. With both arms hanging limp and useless she begins a hasty retreat, narrowly missing the arcing blade aimed for her slender throat. The swish of air passing over flesh tears a started gasp of surprise causing her footing to slip so that she topples to the ground in a jumbled heap of bloody robes and mangled limbs. Streams of crimson blood ebb to a slow drip; mingling with the land below to strengthen her connection with nature and the elements themselves. Lashes fall, raven crescents laying atop a pristine visage as breath ceases to little more than a shallow gust of air when necessary; magic pouring from her body into the winds carrying sizzling projectiles. Her magic nullifies the electric shock and hardens the core into something solid, sharp before whirling about the man sending missals to rain down upon the lighting-bearer where he lies. Wearied and drained from the exertion, the Druid slinks off into the plains hoping to fade from sight and memory leaving a wounded foe in her wake.

Giacomo stumbles a few feet before falling flat on his back in a futile attempt at evading those little missiles. In a last ditch effort to buffer the blows, the man uses his one good arm to pull his cloak up in front of his face and torso, protecting those most vital areas. Yet this leaves his legs to get pummeled by Taeme's projectiles, beating upon the man's flesh much like a butcher would tenderize a steak. "Enough!" Shouts the man, his voice hoarse and scratchy due to the little battle.




Kelovath and Jacklin Tournament