SNF 2018.10 - SNF: The Clonus Horror - Ramlethal vs Morrigan

[Toggle Names]

Description: Tonight for one night only, we have two of the most double-dealing babes on Earth for a showdown inside a giant hall of mirrors! They will need to fight their way out of the specially crafted glass arena /without/ destroying themselves in the process! The broken glass is of especial inconvenience to everyone's favorite clone, Ramlethal. Can the two fighting starlets duke it out against their own mirror images as well as each other? We'll find out!

TONIGHT ONLY AT THE DIAMOND DRAGON CASINO: The SNF Committee is presented a spectacular main event: two top-shelf competitors brought together in a dangerous battle where the real winner are tonight's visitors! The Mysterious and Seductive Morrigan Aensland engages the Ferocious Newcomer...Thrustdeath Truelove (?) Strange as her name may be, the SNF Committee promises that her performance against the legendary fighter, Akuma, should make for a spectacular match.

But just in case things get too dry, tonight's arena has been filled from end to end with a precarious mirror maze. Can these two fighters overcome a sea of confusion to come out ahead, or will this only result in many, many years of bad luck?

"Come now," Morrigan yawns over the announcer prattling on the loudspeaker. "Mirrors? If you wanted to match the match more trifling than thrilling, I suppose you've succeeded." She is presently dressed in a white button up and black leather pants. Her tall heels clack on the "red corner" entrance. "Oh well," Morrigan rolls her shoulders. "With a name like 'Thrustdeath,' maybe there's at least some fun to be had."


"Useless." Ramlethal Valentine complains. "I am fighting a darkstalker. A demon. Your establishment knew what it was engaging in."

"Well, yes, but..." Comes the promoter behind the blue side door.

Bringing up a foot, Ramlethal casually kicks in the door, swinging in with a thunderous force that smashes a mirror within the hall of mirrors just inside. "You do not want to film Morrigan the devil fighting some biker with cat ears. I cannot even fight here with a bike."

A flare of green fire surrounds Ramlethal, starting from her shoulders and down her back like cloth unfurling, before her cape finishes arriving itself around her shoulders. "The death of the forest... And now Morrigan. Nothing but difficult targets."

Perhaps allowing herself to be signed up with the Fight Commission was the best idea, but they seemed all too willing to thrust her in front of powerful opponents.

"The wanted poster he showed me... Mm."
"I'm not 'dangerous' any more."

It was offensive, almost, as the Valentine floated through the hall of mazes, not even remotely hiding her blazing power so incensed, toes barely whispering along the floor as stalked her own shimmering reflection. "I wonder if she is like me too...?"

Morrigan walks into the mirror maze with a steady clop of her heels until she comes up the nearest mirror. As she does she reaches up and taps it, creating a ripple effect like a stone tossed into a pond. She draws back her hand, watching it for a lingering moment, then steps into the mirror. Normally, someone stepping into a mirror would cause a heavy thump, or a shattering of glass. For Morrigan, this is as casual as walking through an open door. Is it real? Is it illusion? Such things are at best a guess.

"Ramlethal, isn't it?" Morrigan echoes from nowhere in particular. "Oh, I'm sorry," she adds, "Are you using tae stage name? It has a certain je ne sais quoi to it." Morrigan's voice has a bit of a husky sort of sound to it. Melodic, yet deep. It also carries a Scottish tinge today, as it often does.

Morrigan rises up from Ramlethal's shadow like someone rising up on a stage elevator. There are suddenly many Morrigans reflected in the mirrors.

"Fancy meeting you here, in any case."

Unlike the click-clip of Morrigan's heels at her strut through the mirros, Ramletha's passage is silent, a whisper of wind against flooring. The walls here, of course, were no claustrophobic funhouse for either combatant before the fight comission's cameras.

Jarring, perhaps, when one fighter floated through the areas like Casper The Ganguro Ghost and the other stepped through mirrors like they were open paths. But not unknown to either. They could feel each other. The auras clashed and buffeted against one another.

"I was. But not for this." Ramlethal replies flatly, sweeping a hand out, clawing, as she rounds a corner, the mirrors shattering in the wake of her motion and leaving a rain of glimmering shards on the ground and shining dust littering the air.

But Morrigan is not so unclever as to 'run face first into Ramlethal with a kick-me sign on her back'. No, no.

The lights cast long shadows, and Morrigan rises up from behind the floating Valentine, filling the mirrors with the succubus.

Morrigan doesn't strike. Ramlethal stops, but doesn't turn immediately. "Our last fight was... inconclusive." Ramlethal remembers. "Not in my favor, but inconclusive."

Lucifero unfolded itself into existance just above Ramlethal's large hat cat-ears, a physics-bending reverse pac-man death, as the mouth rounded its way back around. "W-woah! It's you!!!" He gasped, his eyes becoming cartoon hearts and bouncing out of his skully sockets.

Bringing both hands up, Ramlethal grabs Lucifero by each headwing ear, and tugs, stretching and tearing at the familiar before splitting him apart down the center, releasing the two halves back into the air to flutter there, by her side. Her head turns, a single eye with cream brow flashing with a flat, emptily bored expression visible in her half-turn. "Caging animals to fight. Bloodsport. Gladitorial combat. Does it please you, demon?"

Morrigan doesn't flinch when mirrors shatter. "Oh, I remember," the succubus coos, crossing her arms under her bust. "A fierce weapon for a fierce age, aren't we? I was rather impressed that this is what men now create." A pause. "But you've gotten a will of your own, and that is even more fascinating. What are you doing do with your power now that you're done fighting tae war that they made you for?"

When Lucifero appears, Morrigan raises an eyebrow. When Ramlethal tears him in half, she chuckles once. "How violent."

"That's a bit what it feels like, but can they reall call it a cage when we can leave at any time?" Morrigan spreads her arms, bouncing slightly as she raises them up in a sort of a "come and get me" gesture. "But I'm not sure if I can answer that. That all depends on you."

But Morrigan suddenly snaps up in defiance of gravity. She sweeps her leg, the muscle of her thigh tensing with power. The edge of her stiletto flickers with gold-green energy as she slams forward with her leg, kicking nearly over her head with barely a flicker of warning.

And as the blow goes, bats spread through the air in all direction, canvassing Morrigan like a fog. In their wake, they leave her in her distinctive bat tights, wings present once more.

COMBATSYS: Morrigan has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Morrigan         0/-------/------=|

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Morrigan         0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0        Ramlethal

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal dodges Morrigan's Random Strike.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Morrigan         0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0        Ramlethal

"It was an order that confused me at the time. I do not think you are wrong, though."

Ramletha's right hand, fingers splayed and slowly tensing, slips out from her cloak. She gazes into it as if there's some secret, or exceptional, reason she's taking the most basic bitch of chuuni poses. "It took me some time to gain a hint of understanding. Things are moving more quickly now. I think... I fight because it is still expected of me."

"Being good at destruction makes it easier."

There will be no mercy for Lucifero, he's terrible and the worst.

Ramlehtal turns around finally, not edgily standing there with her back facing in time with Morrigan's actual striking of anything close to a 'come get me' gesture. "It's all a cage."

Morrigan snaps up, and Ramlethal's cloak flares up in an updraft of wind as the succubus aims a powerful kick her way, surging with a green-gold flash of power. Ramlethal throws both hands out and projects a thick sheet of energy, but instead of standing with her chi plane barrier, she lets the momentum carry her back, body sliding back through the air, back back back through the spiralling, cracking, infinitely repeating mirrors.

Both legs 'crouch' against the far back shattered mirror, her barrier dropping as her hands slip down to 'perch', for a heartbeat, against the glass, like Morrigan was standing on the wall, and she, crouching on the broken mirror cieling.

Then, a flicker of speed, and she blurs - leaping in and dragging her clawing fingers up through the air and leaving rents of emerald chi-fire through floor and atmosphere alike as if she was clawing through a single sheet of paper.

"And it always depends on me."

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal successfully hits Morrigan with Dauro.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Morrigan         0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0        Ramlethal

"Life is full of such detours," Morrigan says, her eyes following Ramlethal as she blocks and skirts away from the incoming kick. "But such things do come naturally, don't they? Ripping, tearing, and taking. When you have power, it is oh so easy to use it. It's like--"

Morrigan's eyes widen slightly. Muted surprise fills her face as she tearing flames of emerald chi-fire rip through her chest and torso, spraying inky blackness across the mirrors as it takes three, claw-shaped chunks out of her midsection. The shadow runs down the mirror like oil as Morrigan's body seems to weave itself back together from the ether.

"Oh, that's a familiar feeling. With I may have put tae burden on you, but you're carrying it well."

Morrigan extends her arm, knuckles popping as she clenches a tight fist. She splays her fingers from her other arm across the forearm to brace it, and then launches force a flickering, golden bat that flutters toward Ramlethal before its jaw distendeds and it remolds into a giant, bitey jaw of raw power.

"So what did you think of the Demon? Was he more talkative for you than for me?"

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal fails to slow Soul Fist from Morrigan with Cassius.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Morrigan         1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0        Ramlethal

"No." Ramlethal begins, moving to take advantage of her zip to keep up the fight's tempo, her toes brushing empty air like a climbing bar, letting her slide through the air.

"Not talking." The Valentine adds, striking out with a cupped hand that holds a ball of burning chi, underhand lobbing the blast with clawed fingers like a child slinging pool water at a sibling.

The ball takes shape, a core of solid power with two flickering wings, like a bat - or simply a burning lucifero-shape - being hurled at Morrigan.

But the succubus' pulse of energy becomes a yawning maw, first chomping into the more focused slung baseball of flame and exploding against Ramlethal with a rainbow of expulsed, energetic light - and a searing, scorched pain-mark across her center, sending her staggering back and buying Morrigan all the time in the world to follow up.

"I didn't think so," Morrigan says, pursing her lips into a pout. The Soul Fist chomps through the incoming projectile and keeps going, and Morrigan follows suit. Her wings seem to melt, becoming something inconsistent, then they reshape into jagged, open-ended ports. Jet exhaust spills out of them as she suddenly rockets toward Ramlethal, chasing her projectile with such speed as to leave little room for reaction.

And as she draws close, Morrigan reaches out, aiming to pull Ramlethal into a close--even intimate embrace. If she gets a good hold, she'll lean in closely--

COMBATSYS: Morrigan successfully hits Ramlethal with Sexual Embrace.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Morrigan         1/-----==/=======|======-\-------\0        Ramlethal

Morrigan leans in close, uncomfortably close, to whisper in Ramlethal's ear. "So what do you really want, little one? Such power, so many things available to you. What draws you? What is your real desire, now that you are free from the shackles of generals and politicians? Is it simply a good battle...or something else?

This moment of intimacy is cut a bit short as Morrigan inverts the two of them, shifting into a piledriver because she's rude as hell.

Normally, being full on-embraced by Morrigan Aensland, her arms wrapped around you, and her hot breath murmuring sweet nothings into your ear gets people all tingly. Her spidering fingers brushing against anticipating nerves.

Ramlethal remains too jarred to respond, though she immediately starts struggling lightly as Morrigan asks her what she wants.

What she really, really wants. What sort of blissful re-

Oh and then Morrigan flips her over, dropping her back onto her hat and head, the ears squishing out as she's slammed and dropped into a piledriver.

Ok. That causes her to tingle a little bit. Especially the crown of her skull, hair flooping into a big messy pile as she's released to flop over before pushing herself back up, resetting to middle distance in a half-crouch, her cape flowing behind her and lined with pointed, flat teeth that extend out to spike the wall, buoying Ramlethal back to her floating feet.

There's something different about the character of her eyes, a hateful flare. The breeze of glittering dust that sworls around her feet builds into a red character, crackling like a storm. "A preperatory flick of her wrist brings one of her two greatswords burning into reality. Dropping one foot forward, and bracing her body in a 'claws out' stance, her sword follows suit, hovering at her behest, before swinging horizontally, cleaving in a gigantic wave of white "sword-edge", more straining and bending sword-like battering ram shrouded in an arc of burning emerald.

"Power is not enough. You asked about the demon - he said that I could 'become' worthy. If I survived. Grew. How belittling."

Her sword ignores the mirrored walls of the set, carving through them as if they didn't exist with the magicked edge.

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal successfully hits Morrigan with Forpeli.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Morrigan         1/-======/=======|=======\====---\1        Ramlethal

The succubus breaks from the piledriver in a weightless motion that caries her back upright to land on her feet with another clack of her heels.

"Oh, how typical," Morrigan sighs, waving a hand dismissively as she sets the other one her hip jauntily. "He does have a way with words, doesn't he? Perhaps if he learned to speak half as as well as h--"

The blade cleaves straight through the mirrors without warning. It catches slightly right of her head, then cleaves diagonally from her shoulder to the left of her thigh, bisecting the Darkstalker in one smooth motion. There's a splash of inky darkness--is that blood--before the two halves separate, Morrigan's expression one of bewilderment.

But the nameless dark curls and twists like threads, weaving out of the bisected halves and interweaving themselves before pulling Morrigan's two halves back together again.

As she becomes whole once more, she breathes heavily, running her hand along the spot on her shoulder and her thigh where they blade entered and exited. She rolls her neck, shivering slightly as if she has a chill.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon," Morrigan says, slight irritation creeping into her voice like a virus. "He seems to have gotten you agitated. Maybe his goal was to make you so angry that you couldn't help but sharpen your edge?" Morrigan reaches around, finding her hair lopsided from where Ramlethal hacked off a quarter in her sweep. The succubus runs her fingers through it, the hair seeming to grow organically black into place. With a toss, Morrigan turns her head like someone in a shampoo commercial.

But then Morrigan suddenly steps, and in an instant, she's directly in front of Ramlethal, her hand drawn up and back for sweeping chop. As she swings the blow trails with that gold-green aura again, the blow infused with the succubus's strange power. "But what do YOU want?" Morrigan asks, baring fangs. "What drives you to be stronger? Is just honor? Glory?" A pause, "Listlessness?"

COMBATSYS: Morrigan successfully hits Ramlethal with Medium Strike.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////                   ]
Morrigan         1/=======/=======|=======\======-\1        Ramlethal

Barbs are traded about Akuma being extremely clipped. He will not recognize them, and he will not know about them. Unless he watches pay-per-view.

Then the raging demon with hair of bloody crimson and nose like a cinderblock may revisit both monster ladies for their commentary oh his murder teaching technique.

Ramlethal connects and then follows through, her blade not cutting per-se, the weight and heft of it being more akin to being hit by a tree trunk that was also, for some godforsaken reason, also sharp. Ramlethal is, of course, more than a large pair of treetrunk-blades, though.

And Morrigan Aensland is more than a woman of questional moral character.

"Agitated." Ramlethal repeats, as Morrigan reforms her hair. There is time for style. There is always a little time for style.

"Anything compared to before is agitation. Like energy. Like wind. Stillness, or agitation." She reasons, her 'weilding' hands returning beneath her cloak as a Lucifero retrieves the blade with its flapping bat-wing ears and heaves up the blade in its teeth by the chain-link at the hilt.

Her words come at a price, her mind retracking from a fight to introspection - something that had become a bad habit of late. Her senses dull as the subconscious twitches of instinct take over for conscious battle analysis.

Morrigan's chop cracks into Ramlethal's neck and burns her skin, leaving lines of vicious purple and black as Rammy's eyes go wide, and her body go slack.

Her legs collapse under her, and her eyes wide with noncomprehension.

It's a telling blow, Ramlethal manages to get a knee and a palm under her before she falls, and her cape flares out unnaturally, the teeth shooting in the ground like ribs, creating a rigid structure to bear up her shoulders. The aura she had been developing suddenly dissipates, being re-absorbed as the Valentine's head hangs.

Then, like a beast, she sweeps to the side in a blur, her cloak's 'cloth' flaring out with long sharp hooks. "Certainty." Comes the slur of Ramlethal's voice, as her cape stretches out around the pair, the hooks tugging at Morrigan to draw her into a different sort of embrace--

COMBATSYS: Morrigan dodges Ramlethal's Explode.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Morrigan         1/=======/=======|=====--\-------\0        Ramlethal

--But the hooks come up short, and sweep back to brace Ramlethal on the ground, half-crouching with her living clothes to support her.

Morrigan shifts, twists, and bends as the hooks snap toward her. In that instant the succubus moves unnaturally, less like a mortal and more like a living shadow as her wings curve and she slides between the teeth-like blades. In this same moment Morrigan flickers like a TV with poor reception, one image becoming two momentarily in a trick of the light.

Or a trick of the mind, perhaps, as the second Morrigan phases out of sync with the first and lingers, a second succubus where there was only one before. The two of them rise up, pressing hip to hip like mirror images, then sole to sole before kicking off one another in a wide arc around Ramlethal. They zero in like two exceptionally shapely fighter jets moving into a combat formation.

"Is that all?" one Morrigan says, "No great goal?" the other echoes.

"We need to find you a passion," the two Morrigans say in sync, collapsing on Ramlethal. The first throws a punch from the left while the other moves in a perfect reflection on the right. First a jab, then a knee, then a hook, then a kick. The Morrigan's hair shoot out like spikes, thrusting forward like lances of green. This continues for only an instant, but the flurry of blows may seem like ages to Ramlethal, until finally the two Morrigans flip away from one another in great, arcing heel kicks like dancers doing back bends. As they break, they'll seek to destabilize again, moving back into one another to become whole once more.

COMBATSYS: Morrigan successfully hits Ramlethal with Darkness Illusion.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Morrigan         0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1        Ramlethal

The hooks fail to connect, the seeking teeth closing around on themselves, closing like a snapping jaw around the air Morrigan once occupied. The seams of the cloak disappear, but then, like a sigh, lose form and animation just as suddenly as they had shot out, falling back around Ramlethal's shoulders limply.

The command gear's amber eyes watch, though her cream eyebrows unfurrow from her chocolate brow. "This is not reality." She begins, rising back up as Morrigan flickers like a badly-tuned display. There's a moment where she could launch into an extended production about MMMMMMOTHER or THE BACKYARD PLAYPEN RUMPUS ROOM WHERE ALL GOOD GEAR CHILDREN GO (WHICH IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT IS PRETTY NARROWLY DEFINED TO 'the valentines'), but the Ramlethal fighting Morrigan on Pay-Per-View is not the exact same Ramlethal who appeared at Japan at the head of an army politely requesting humanity to 'catch these gear hands'.

"It is a production. A staged play. Fake."

Morrigan surges and strikes, and though Ramlethal brings up an entire sphere of emerald shield-energy, it is quickly shattered by the flurry of strikes from both angles, limning the shadowy mirror combo in motes of broken green chi.

Sent up by the final, arching (aching?) kick, Ramlethal bumps the cieling of the arena before hanging there, hat flooped slightly over her brow and hiding most of her eyes. The whole thing had knocked the wind -- and most of the fight -- out of her.

"Certainty was what I had. Passion was not required."

"If you wish for my passion... food is nice."

"If you wish for my excitement --"

Ramlethal was fast before, but now, hanging on to the dearest thread of stamina, she burns through the air, back to the broken ground of the hall of mirrors in complete disregard for physics. Her hands claw out, fingers sharp and wicked, surging for a purchase - any purchase.

Finding it would be ill-advised, as Ramlethal seeks to not just grab and hold, but to throttle, to crush, and for her cloak's toothy lining to buzzsaw through Morrigan's flesh. To chew, to bite.

With a shunt of physics, reality bowing and tearing at the impulse, Ramlethal spins up -- with or without Morrigan in her grip -- to two-handedly dunk on (or with) the succubus, slamming into the earth with a dust-up of broken drywall, emerald chi, and the twinkling dust of fine-ground mirror-glass.

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal blitzes into action and acts again!

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Morrigan         0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1        Ramlethal

COMBATSYS: Morrigan dodges Ramlethal's Bucado.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////                          ]
Morrigan         0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1        Ramlethal

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal knocks away Morrigan with Sildo Detruo.
- Power hit! -

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////                          ]
Morrigan         1/--=====/=======|=======\==-----\1        Ramlethal

"Is it not?" Morrigan asks with the tenor of someone who genuinely seems confused by the suggestion. Perhaps she too is confused. Perhaps she is just a menace. The truth is concealed.

"Ah," Morrigan hovers. "Certainty." A pause. "So many mortals love certainty, but where is the fun in that? I prefer life to be full of surprises." The succubus raises an eyebrow. "Well, that's start. Perhaps we'll--"

Morrigan shifts backward, weaving between the blades and the claws. She narrowly evades the initial strike with a precarious backlean that draws at least one cameraman to zoom in furiously and with vain hope.

A back lean is not enough to get away from the second push. Morrigan is taken up, up into a spin, and brought down rage and emerald chi. She smashes into the arena floor with enough force to launch splinters of glass up like the thump of a massive drum. She contorts unnaturally as she slides across the ground from the impact bending in a decidedly lethal way before skidding to a stop when she smashes through another mirror.

And by the time she rises it's like a marionette being picked up by its strings, unfolding into place as glass fragments drop from her hair. Several more pockmark her tights, and as she reaches her full height once more Morrigan plucks another fragment from between her bosom and tosses it aside. The back of her fist sweeps across her brow, flipping her hair back as she chest rises and falls with heavy breaths.

"Oh, good," Morrigan says, "that is what I was looking for. This is exciting!" Morrigan plants her palms on near her ribs, pushing on her side to pop something before smoothing out the sides of her tights and rolling her neck.

Her wing unfurls and unravels like black thread, exploding into a thousand black strands that reweave themselves into a shimmering pendulum-blade extending from the black of her arm. Morrigan sweeps forward with it in a flash, trailing sparks as it clips across the floor. At the height of her sweep a trail of blades---a dozen or more mirror images of Morrigan miming that same pose--erupt from the floor in a line, each one slightly further forward until they close the gap between the succubus and the Gear.

COMBATSYS: Morrigan successfully hits Ramlethal with Shadow Servant.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >                                ]
Morrigan         0/-------/--=====|=======\======-\1        Ramlethal

As it turns out, backleans only work as a perfect frame evade if you're from Tekken, with SUPERIOR, LIMB-BASED COMBAT.

Morrigan and Ramlethal are far too anime to rely entirely on mere command throws.

Morrigan and Ramlethal are ~*Anime*~.

With a toothy maniac slasher smile, Ramlethal finishes her dunking of Morrigan, her voice rising with a breathy, husked quality. "Certainty that I was created to destroy. To be powerful. This isn't real, because in reality, two monsters - a weapon and a devil - would be falling upon the humans. Not each other."

The surging sweep of blades and mirror clones leads to the Command Gear thrusting herself through the air, springing like an animal out of the way of one - two - three of the copies, but there are dozens of them, and they seek in, hungry for prey.

Laid out on the ground, when all is over, cameramen trying very hard to get those shots, the universe narrows down to Morrigan, as unmarred as when the pair started, and Ramlethal, battered on the ground, though the temporary effects of their struggle as forgotten as the flashes of power that brought them on.

She props herself up on a shoulder.

"There is not any weight to this. You do not give me the same impression as the silent demon. I don't understand your..."


Ramlethal closes her eyes, dismissively gesturing at Morrigan before flopping back on her back.
She's probably lying between her extra toothy teeth, at least a little bit. If it didn't matter, and she didn't understand...

The giant sword trailing emerald chi appearing behind the succubus to biff her in the back with a upswing spitefully would probably not happen. Why win, if it doesn't matter? Simply not to lose?

She was the one on the ground first. All there was left was spite and ego, really. And, perhaps, programming.

COMBATSYS: Ramlethal can no longer fight.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  <
Morrigan         0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Morrigan blocks Ramlethal's Power Strike.

[                      \\\\\\\\  <
Morrigan         0/-------/=======|

Morrigan chortles. It's a biting, lofty sort of laugh. "Oh," she says, "He and I are much, much different. But you're right, perhaps in other time, we would be hunting." Morrigan smiles. "But not now." The succubus watches Ramlethal fall, taking several steps toward Ramlethal, her heels tapping across the arena and crunching a piece of glass as she walks.

But then the sword comes from behind. Morrigan's wing snaps up and shimmers like steel, a bastion against the incoming blade. Instead, the blade smashes it, punching through like a knife puncturing a tin can. Morrigan herself moves away, the sword "only" lancing through her side at a peculiar angle.

She sways on her feet. "Oh, clever," Morrigan says, eyeing Ramlethal. "Perhaps you cared a bit more than you let on? In any case--" Morrigan stepped forward, hand pressed to her side. Crouching down, she leaned in dangerously close to whisper something in the Gear's ear.

And with a flicker of the stage lighting, Morrigan was gone like a vapor, having disappeared into the night once more. Perhaps she was off to lick her wounds, or maybe she had more sinister plans. Morrigan was always fickle.

COMBATSYS: Morrigan has ended the fight here.

Log created on 18:28:53 11/14/2018 by Morrigan, and last modified on 19:25:49 11/19/2018.