Anyone else for an Ortega vs Mavra fight?
Ortega looks to Mavra, a smart smile flashing across his handsome face. "We are not the kind to bow to such demands, are w--"
His voice cuts off as an invisible line of ice cold barbed wire tightens around his throat. As his eyes bulge in surprise, the wire tightens, slicing through his neck. The air intended for his final words gasp out of his severed larynx in a red mist of blood as his head and body topple to the ground.
Mavra, unsmiling, addresses the unseen being that brought her there.
"Next."
Summer Knight Fix vs Vittorio Malvora?
Vittorio sized up the Summer Knight. "Perhaps after I kill you, the Summer Queens will gift me with a boon, in appreciation for freeing them to choose a more worthy champion."
Fix stood stock still, save for his fingers lightly closing around the hilt of the sword at his waist. "I'd say the same, but your King's probably never heard of you. I know
I haven't."
Vittorio's eyes narrowed. "I will show you--"
Fix blinked in surprise as the vampire's head exploded, his pale blood glistening wetly in an expanding cloud around a sphere of inky darkness. As he tried to process the sudden and unexpected violence, an icy cold sensation spread across his body as something akin to frozen piano wire tightened across him.
"What.." he gasped out, even as the power of the Summer Knight coursed through his veins. His muscles tensed as his skin grew hot. The cold wire ensnaring him crumbled as heat rolled off his body in waves. Freed from the trap, Fix's head spun, looking for the unseen threat. His eyes fell upon a pale, deathly form stalking toward him. His sword flashed free of its sheath, the blade glinting far brighter than it should have in the faint light of the coming dawn. "Who are you?"
The gray, dead face twisted grotesquely. It took Fix several moments to realize it was supposed to be a smile. "Whoever you are, I warn you. Come any closer and I won't hold back."
The thing, which he could now see was slightly feminine, kept approaching.
"Alright," Fix said, his voice growing grim. "I tried--"
His words stumbled to a halt. A confused frown flickered across his brow as he wondered at why his voice had failed. The world spun as his mind struggled to focus. His vision blurred as a searing hot pain spread across his neck, even as a splash of something hot and wet landed across his chest.
"Grrgh," he managed to croak out, the air escaping through the ragged rends that had appeared in his throat.
His eyes failed to see the blood spurting from his exposed vein. Nor did they see the illusion of the approaching woman flicker and fade, even as the woman revealed herself behind him.
His ears failed to register the sound as she licked her bloodied fingers clean. Nor did he hear, as his limp form crashed to the ground, what she rasped in the pre-dawn air.
"Next."
Eldest Fetch vs Eldest Gruff?
The two members of the Sidhe Courts stared at each other from across a short distance.
Eldest Fetch, having assumed the form of a Spanish swordsman, narrowed his eyes at the short, stocky Gruff. "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to kill you."
A bemused smile began to form at the edges of Eldest Gruff's snout. "You seem a decent fellow. I hate to die."
The form of Eldest Fetch shifted, blurring into the shape of a Scarecrow. "I haven't got a brain. Only straw."
The beginnings of Gruff's smile bloomed into a full grin. "How can you talk if you haven't got a brain?"
Eldest Fetch's straw neck tilted to one side. "I don't know... But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking... don't they?"
Gruff shook his head. "Yes, I guess you're right."
Eldest Fetch's form blurred again, this time into the shape of a pale, regal man in fashionable clothing several centuries late. "Listen to them. Children of the night. What music *they* make."
A puzzled look appeared on Gruff's face, as he considered the appropriate response. He knew the reference, of course. Dracula, as if the stiff white collar hadn't been enough to give it away. But there was no reply in the original movie, save for the howling of the wolves.
A dark and malicious grin spread across Eldest Fetch's face, revealing his vampiric teeth. It seemed that he'd stumped his counterpart from Summer. And per the terms of their duel, if the stocky creature couldn't provide the correct response to his quote, he would lose the game. And with it, his life.
The seconds ticked by, as Summer's eldest servant wondered if this was the end.
But then Gruff's ears twitched, and he understood. His smile returned.
Rather than replying with words, his staff rose and fell, striking the alien ground with the sound of a thundering spring storm.
And with it, a column of flame erupted into thin air a few dozen yards away, enveloped the creature that had attempted to sneak up on them as they dueled. Dracula's creature howled as the flames consumed her.
When her howls finally faded, and her form crumbled to ash, Eldest Fetch gave a respectful bow to Eldest Gruff. The champion of Summer did the same, and then Winter's champion blurred again, assuming a new form.
And so they continued, until the day ended.
