Private Canto Cagefight

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

Those watching the fight in the middle of the small warehouse seemed louder than usual to Kivah, she'd grown unaccustomed to it in her time away. Or, she hoped as she twisted her way through the packed warehouse to her usual Duros promoter, the regulars had noticed her and their excitement was spreading. The amazonian Cathar wanted it to be the latter for the larger slice of the betting pool a win would bring. On seeing her, the promotor's face didn't exactly light up, Duros faces just didn't seem to do that, but he waved her over to the clear space around him. "Kivaaah! Looking ready to fight."
"I'm always ready Pao." She returned with a cocky smile over the crowd's noise. "Who've you got for me?"
Pao consulted his datapad even though Kivah knew he didn't need it. The alien's large cranium had brackets lining up in it in his sleep. "New guy, pink fether. 'Speak Jiiow?' 'Spic J-eyeuh?' Anyways, you don't care." It was hard to tell with his pupilless eyes, but she thought he was giving her a look from the way his brow moved, so she shrugged. Unless the bout was particularly good or was with a regular, she really didn't. "I'll fit you in the fight after next, before tonight's headliners, Haltalk and Jourm. Give you time to warm up and wrap your hands. Usual pot." That's what she wanted to hear, and she gave Pao an appreciative bump on the shoulder as she wandered past him to go do just that.

Leaning against a row of beaten lockers lining the back wall, Kivah pulled a roll of worn bandaging and started wrapping her hands as she watched the gathered workers and locals watch the fight. This was a side of Canto Bight most tourists never saw, and the people that ran it and their patrons were just as bloody and ruthless as those running the gleaming casinos, just as eager to watch someone get beaten and loose. They were just more honest about their chosen adrenalin rush.

As Kivah finished wrapping one hand, the ongoing fight ended and Pao and his counterpart hype man launched into their platitudes and congratulations before seamlessly rolling into a bit about last-minute entries as they tried to drum up betting excitement. That'd be her and this new guy. 'After this,' she thought as the two announcers launched into the next bout's intro, Bao in Basic and his opposite in Huttese. She hoped her fight would be fun, it was rare for her to be able to cut loose while still playing up to the crowd. Usually she had to hold back a little, let them have their sport. Come on too strong, end the fight too early, and the spectators would feel cheated. Do it too often and people wouldn't want in the cage with you.

 

[Spek Zhio]

A meal. That was all it took.

Actually, several meals. As many as the Zeltron wanted and could stomach.

That was all it took, for him to have accepted this outcome.

Although, in all honesty, acceptance was a milder word for resignation.

The Zeltron pilot was forced into the planet by a pursuing squadron of Huttese starfighters. They were chasing after the bounty on his head, placed by some inconsequential Hutt crime lord on Nar Shaddaa. All, over some minor Sabacc philosophical dispute. Spek Zhio was of the belief that resorting to complementary skills, in order to win a game of cards, was fair play. While his archaic opponents, called counting cards and double-lifting a cheat.

While the titanium-chromium alloy of the Azure Alcyone's hull was able to resist the few hits that overcame its deflector shielding, the lack of automated weaponry and a lock on the ship's hyperdrive, made it impossible for them to shake off their pursuers. Like a womp rat jumping from the frying pan into the fire, the astrogator had no choice but to try and loose them planetside. Which, ultimately, he was not able to do.

In the end, he was given a choice. Die at the hands of some sore losers, as an example of what happens when you are simply too good at cards or, alternatively, pay off his debt in either credits or blood - which, to the Hutts, constituted an interchangeable form of currency. Had those dull Koochoos known that Spek was Force sensitive, they would not had taken the risk of even giving him a choice. In fact, the once Padawan was of a mind to dispatch them right then and there, on the paved streets of Canto Bight. Yet, when they offered the famished spacer the choice of an all-you-can-eat buffet on the day leading up to the arranged cage match, on top of clearing his mark, the Zeltron's eyes shone with the same brightness as the drops of saliva that were forming on the corners of his mouth.

Skip a few meals and your priorities take a sudden shift. Plus, it was not like he had anything to lose. How strong could his opponent be? A few bruises were worth the prize and, as a Force user taking part on a match balanced for a regular sentient, how could he even lose? He just had to make sure not to be conspicuous, and only make use of the Force as a last resort. Lest those outlaws had the ridiculous inkling of considering that, cheating as well. Zhio's odds of surviving - Surviving? Not even winning? Sheesh! How melodramatic! - were heavily skewed against him. Therefore, placing all of his remaining credits on himself to win - the ones he had won on a certain Sabacc game, in a totally legit and aboveboard manner - would skyrocket his liquidity.

"Hot meals... A clean slate... And a bunch of credits waiting for me after I win? What a trifecta!" he mumbled to himself; at the same time that a human, with almost as much teeth as he had eyes and ears, chuckled while wrapping Zhio's forearms in bandages. Let them laugh, he though, he who laughs last...

They had taken all of his belongings - luckily, not opening the pouch which contained his lightsabers - including his Echani vibrosword and energy pistol, as well as his exquisite gold-embroidered red coat and all of the jewellery he was wearing. To make it fair, they had said. If only the fools had known. Still, without his pheromone-suppressing bracelet, the Zeltron had no control over the effect that his natural musk had on other sentients. The man winced, as the bandaging two-teethed worker, began to give him infatuated one-eyed glances.

With a lean and toned physique, as exposed by his naked torso, the Zeltron pushed through the crowd on his way to the cage; while catching the very last of the announcement. He heard the exact moment they were dictating his name, "Tonight's fresh meat for the grinder!... Spek Zio!"

The crowd erupted into derisory ovation and laughter.

"It's Zhio with a 'zh', as in confusion or collision!" he yelled back, to no one in particular who cared.

---

OOC

As mentioned over DMs.

• Spek will not use the Force until Kivah does it herself
• The pheromones are a narrative device, not something I want to take advantage of. You decide whether or not they affect you and to what extent.

This is just for fun, no OOC winner or loser. But if we were keeping score, you already had some points for knowing the proper pronunciation of this here dude's name! XD

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

A roar of disappointment spread through the onlookers mixed with sporadic cheering of those with good bets as Kivah started to warm up. Looking over, Pao was pointing to her, seems that fight hadn't lasted very long. Rolling her eyes, she shoved her tape roll and her hoodie into her bag and slammed the locker shut after it. "And here to beat him tender and serve him up for all you fine folk! You know her! You love her! Kivahhhhh!" At the sound of her name being called out, Kivah raised her fists and let out a bloodthirsty yowl while making her way through the cleared lane up to the cage. Cathar frowned on animalism, biting and clawing was something beasts (and the desperate) did, but Kivah liked to make a show of it before a fight to hype up the onlookers. It also got her blood going as she stepped into the ring from her gate to see her opponent pushed through his own gate into the cage.

Her first thought was 'this is it?' followed by remembering a few martial artists she'd fought and seen fight. Left leg forward, she crouched low, spreading her fingers wide as she drew them into fists, pulling against her hand wrappings as she took up her initial stance. Behind her, her tail bristled and flicked. And Kivah smiled hungrily. This might turn out more interesting than she first thought. She eyed up this newcomer, taking closer stock of him. Zeltron, for sure. Not much fat and decent muscles, she guessed he worked out rather than gaining his muscles through work. Good broad shoulders.

On hearing Pao and Dreen wrap up their pre-fight hype and calling the odds through the noise of the onlookers and the rattling of the cage, Kivha rolled her shoulders and relaxed. The bell rang out and before the second ding, Kivah was sprinting towards Spek. One, two, three strides, and she was leaping up to bring her knee up to smash into the Zeltron's face. It was fast, possibly dirty, and her usual lightning start to her matches. No circling and testing for her. She'd go full throttle, running the edge of endurance to give the best show possible. If Spek made it past this, that is.

 

[Spek Zhio]

There were no rounds on a cage fight. No ring of a bell to give respite, only to mark beginning and end. In lieu of that, once the match had started, there would only be the sound of broken bones and meat tenderizing meat. As he waited for his opponent to enter the cage, the spreads came into his mind. Under five seconds, under ten seconds, under fifteen seconds... all the way up to under a minute. Those were the bets people were making, on how long he would last. Symmetrical wagers were also available, but no one was putting money on how long his adversary would last against him. Not even Zhio, as he had placed all of his credits on himself lasting the longest time possible.

Just then, another thought crossed his mind. He was so confident in the fairness of the match-up - as dictated by those who had deprived him of his weapons, despite being unaware of his advantage in having the Force at his side - that he never stopped to consider the possibility of him being played the fool. There were some very nasty sentients in the Galaxy. Also, there were no guaranties that he would even be facing a full-sentient in the first place. Nah! This cage is big, but not big enough to hold a rancor! he reasoned. Maaaaybe a small one? Do rancors even have babies? Come to think of it, I've never seen one that isn't humongous, resting an index finger on his pursed lips, he went on, oblivious. Are they like tiny versions of daddy and mommy rancor?

With the entrance of his rival on the arena breaking his train of thought, Spek felt a sense of relief over the fact that he was fighting a humanoid - of sorts - after all. The crowd erupted in cheer, obviously eager to start counting the determining seconds of the return on their wagers, if any. The tower of a woman stepping into the cage, had several feline traits that declared her a member of some Cathar offshoot, of which Zhio knew nothing of. A considerably larger, bulkier, offshoot. Wait! Was she the one roaring and boasting all that time, just outside the cage? She's who I'm fighting? Then why the fark did they took my weapons? Look at those claws! And those guns for arms! Failing to pay attention to the announcer, he remained lost in reveries. Could have saved me a lot of worries just now, though. Dreading a rancor... I think I can manage... that... He also nearly missed the first ring of the bell, somehow... as well as the massive kneecap heading for his nose.

"Dank farrik!"

Barely dodging to his right, the man stumbled as he turned sideways to face her, but had the sudden grating of the cage against his back, to stop him from falling backwards. This will leave a mark, but nothing that he was not used too, from an evening well spent on the Red Light of Nar Shaddaa. Seriously caught off guard but still swift enough to regain his center of balance, as she was already turning to face him again, Spek instantly decided what his next few moves would be. Number one, to dodge. Number two, do so repeatedly.

There was a universal law that stated momentum as the product of mass and velocity. On the subject of mass, she gave him a run for his credits - and he had placed them all on himself. As for velocity, she had just displayed the capacity for uncanny bursts of it, more so considering her frame. There was, however, a second law. Which stated that, the bigger the mass, the more energy required to move it. And the more even to do so quickly. Spek was wondering how long she could keep up that momentum. The Zeltron had two livers, so his adversary could have had six hearts and twelve lungs, for all he knew. Each species having an anatomy more suitable for what they were best at.

Still, it would have been folly to meet her in kind at that moment, therefore Zhio decided that he would run circles around the cage's perimeter, running away from her. And, always, in the same counter-clockwise direction. Besides helping me last longer, this will serve two other purposes, he thought, as the adrenaline was flooding his system, and before letting out, "Baby rancor?"

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

Her opponent dodged, Kivah hadn't really expected him to stay still and take a knee to the face, but it was a good spectacle for the crowd. She could have kicked out at him from the air, trying to score a glancing blow, but caught herself against the far fence instead. Coming about, she braced herself to fend off a flurry of attacks just in time to see him, running away? Her head tilted to the side, that was a first.

Baby rancor? "What?" She called out after him, sure she'd misheard. Keeping a fighting stance, one fist up to protect high, the other low, she rolled her weight forward from one step to another as she approached him again, only for him to run away, again. Her eyes narrowed in frustration, "You here to fight or run away?" She called out at him. Right then she wasn't thinking about biology or whatever, instead she considered running him down, sure she was faster, but dropped the idea as it'd look silly. Instead, she went straight at him and then dodged to her left as he turned to run again. Using the limited space of the cage to try and cut Spek off.

 

[Spek Zhio]

Purpose one, staying alive. Working... so far.

Purpose two, to gather intel on how fast, easily, and to what extent she could become aggravated. A somewhat successful endeavor. She seemed to place more importance in the spectacle of the fight, than the fight itself. Which could be something he would be able to use against her. Regardless, she was not yet annoyed enough to lose focus.

Purpose three, to cause a repetitive straining injury on her left ankle. It is easier to cause a tendon or joint to reach its tearing point, on a heavier individual. Someone can acquire muscle fiber and bone density, but joints and tendons remain the same. The heavier weight putting more strain onto them. Unfortunately for Spek, she changed tactics too soon for it to have a real effect. But, maybe, it had started to cause damage. And Zhio would try and give it a little push.

As she did what he had expected her to eventually do, if only sooner than what he had anticipated, Spek dropped to the mat and aimed a sliding tackle at her left ankle, with both feet. More of a bantha rush than anything else, the goal was not to hurt her with the tackle itself but to push her back and cause her to loose balance. Hopefully, multiplying the stress on the ankle and causing at least a sprain.

If she somehow avoided his slide tackle, he would just continue to slide past her. If he succeed on causing her to lose balance, he would immediately do a kick up jump into standing position. Had he miscalculated her toughness or tenacity, then things would surely take an interesting turn, in a way...

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

He was toying with her, that had to be it. He was one that liked to draw things out. 'Which could be fun,' a stray thought crossed her mind. Then Spek turned into her, dropping into a slide. Expecting another dash away, she'd been in a lean ready to dash cut off his escape again, not prepared to counter this. The telegraph of dropping into a slide and the friction of the duracrete slowed the disaster playing out in front of her, giving her precious reaction time. Kivah pushed herself forward into a falling hop over him. Attacking her footing was a smart play, it's why she'd had the importance of balance and footwork literally beaten into her beyond what a life in the trees had instilled. During her hop, she pulled her feet up safely behind her as Spek's legs slid past and gravity did its part to bring 120 kilos of Cathar down onto him as he moved under her. Kivah's lips pulled back into a grin. Probably not how he'd wanted her to fall for him.

Visions of landing on him, driving the breath out of his body, pinning him, flashed through her mind. If she got him, the rest of the fight would only last as long as it took to pummel him unconscious. She reached a hand down, ready to grab him and stop him from getting away. Or, failing that, to soften her landing on the hard floor. Then what? A crouched side-kick behind her?

 

[Spek Zhio]

The Zeltron might have been accused of being slick, once or twice in the past. But he had overestimated just how far and fast he would have been able to slide across that duracrete floor. In fact, by being so focused on his own stratagem, he had severely underestimated how much the friction against that artificial stone would chafe his skin. He was not a complete idiot, and initiated the sliding tackle with only his legs grinding against it. But ultimately, his left elbow and then the forearm came in contact, as he balanced himself. Scrapping as he went.

Upon seeing her jumping into the air, knowing what was about to happen and not caring for the outcome, Spek pressed even harder against the hewed stone with his arm, in order to brake, and attempted to plant his feet on the ground. His first instinct would have been to use the Force. Send his opponent flying backwards, while he would gently levitate himself into an upright position. But it was too soon for that, as he had to be more discreet with those abilities of his, and too late to do anything else in an effective manner.

As a result, and by pulling back his legs from flexing his knees, he managed to kick himself up just in time to not be stomped by her. Although still colliding with the feline wrestler, in the process. Moreover, thanks to the downward motion of her body, intent on grabbing his, his face hit her square on the solar plexus. Then him, losing his balance, was sent falling backwards a couple of meters, landing flat on his butt. Wincing from the pain on his left forearm and buttocks, as the bandage wrappings were coming off and bloodied, he let out a groan. Yet somehow, the pain was dulled by the lingering scent of her skin. The saltiness of it, he could still taste in his mouth.

Maybe his opponent was also caught off guard by the absurd sequence of events. Or, maybe, she had been preparing a follow-up strike, which could explain the ever so brief glance back. Whatever the reason, the fact that she didn't immediately charged at him, was all the time he needed to get up. Raising knuckles in front of his face, a gesture that could give her pause to also fall into stance, Zhio loosened his arms and relaxed both hands, now unclenched. The man positioned his left hand back and to the side, right still in front of him, as he advanced his right foot and turned his left one and the torso sideways. Slightly bending his knees, he adjusted his center of gravity to be somewhat behind that of his mass. An Echani martial stance.

Noticing a pebble stuck to his arm, he pulled it out and threw it at the bell outside the cage, causing it to emit a ringing sound.

"Round two," he smirked, "baby rancor."

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

Somehow the slippery bizit rose up under her, bodily pushing her hand aside while bashing his head into her chest. What felt like an unreasonable amount of pain stunned her for a moment as Kivah fought for breath and Spek escaped behind her. Gasping, she grabbed onto the wall of the cage and pulled herself to her feet, getting ready to defend herself despite the pain. The audience loved it, not only was there actual fighting now, it looked like the fether had smashed his face into her breasts. Which meant he had to die now. The last person to grope the Cathar had his arm broken in two places and needed facial surgery. For a moment Kivah imagined doing just that, grabbing his wrist, twisting the shoulder, and popping the elbow before throwing him down to the bed so she could... She shook her head clear and took up a third stance as Spek did.

This was bothering her. Fighting had always been fun and tended to get her blood up, but thoughts like that were usually about people she at least passably knew, and always after the fight. Nagging at the back of her mind was a memory, something about a party planet she'd been meaning to visit and pink skinned people there. Smirking at her as if he could read her mind, the slimy little grease ball said, "Round two, baby rancor." Fether was using pheromones on her! And he'd just smeared his sweaty face all over her...

Well two could play at that game. With a thought, Kivah accessed her implanted nociceptor and the pain in her chest and legs just dropped away, allowing her to move and breathe freely again without pain. It would have been blatant cheating if anyone had known to make a rule against augmentations, and it spoiled the fun in a way that Kivah usually left it off. This was an exception though, since really this guy had cheated first.

With a roll of her shoulders, she was back to feeling like the fight had just started, even carefully slowing her breath to appear fresh despite the jumping and chasing. "Shouldn't we at least have dinner before you start trying on pet names for me?" She asked him in a flirty tone to low for those outside the cage to hear.

There wouldn't be anymore rushing, this was all serious now. Kivah stalked forward, fists at the ready, eyes locked onto his to catch tell-tale looks but with his fists and body in her peripherals. If he let her close again, as it looked like he wanted, she'd slightly tense and pull back her leading arm as if to jab, but instead of stepping into it would kick forward at his leading knee.

 

[Spek Zhio]

Spek resisted the impulse to use battle meditation. Something that came as second nature to him whenever focusing in battle, it was a Force technique that boosted the morale of his allies and, as such, would serve no purpose on that cage. As Force techniques go, this one would be near impossible to detect by those watching the fight. The problem was that it could lead him to grow lax and resort to other Force powers, unintentionally. Nevertheless, the Zeltron was overcome by a feeling of excitement, bordering lustfulness. He immediately understood those as not being his but her emotions. A result of his species' empathic telepathy. How... interesting, was all he thought, as some of his own began to blend in with those that were coming from her.

Like all Zeltrons, he was like a receiver antenna for the entire gamut of strong emotions. Particularly when the man was exerting himself and not controlling the release of his airborne chemical secretions, as was the case at the moment. And when, despite the underlying reason being unbeknownst to him, his opponent activated her pain suppressors, Zhio also felt a sudden relief from the pain he was feeling. The injuries were certainly still there, but his euphoria and lust were washing over his aches, dulling them into numbness.

Grateful for whatever she had done, to both of them and even if unaware, he took the initiative and went on the offensive. "Oh? Without knowing, you already paid for my dinner, and several other meals. So we're already past that!" he teased her back, before shortening the distance between the two with a sprint.

Swaying left and right as if dancing, he ducked from the fake presumptive jab and, as a result, went for her legs again. As her push kick came at him, it actually assisted with what he intended to do, which was to grab her leg. Slightly leaning backwards, he avoided the blow and attempted to grab it with both hands. He would catch her heel by dropping his lead right hand, and secure the top of her foot with the rear left one. If he succeeded, he would step back in order to absorb the impact from her push, and lower her extended leg towards the duracrete. This would cause her to lean her body forward, aided by her own momentum with the kick. Finally, as he also lowered his stance, still with her foot firmly secured in his hands, Zhio would gather strength for a forward jump, flexing his left knee and bringing it high at her midriff. His arms letting go of the leg and connecting with her shoulders, assisting on the upwards motion. He would place all of his body weight on top of her.

All of that in a flowing motion, as if a spring tensing before leaping. All of that, provided he would manage to catch her foot in the first place. In the event that he would fail and merely manage to dodge it instead, then he would be the one thrown out of balance.

A risky move but one that he was hoping would pay off.

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

Now they were jiving! He'd grabbed her foot, pulling it into the pocket where his arms and core muscles could control her more powerful leg. When he pulled back, she went with it, knowing there'd be a few different things he might do. One of them was trying to break the ankle, but since he hadn't immediately twisted or struck it, Kivah figured she had this guy's temperament figured out. Raising on the ball of her still grounded foot, she kept her balance by dipping low and when the push came, she let him. When the knee came, she punched the inside with her close in hand and twisted with it, robbing it of much of its power as it got her across the abs and Spek rose above her.

Kivah brought her foot back in, planted the heel of the foot she'd been risen up on as her arms rose to attempt a counter-grab on Spek. He got exactly what he wanted, both hands firmly panted on her shoulders as she made to wrap her arms low around his waist, fingers locking around the wrists. Gulping air to replace what he'd driven from her chest. Her feet would snap closer together as she lifted, her back arcing around as she bodily lifted him up, her inner arm coming out to catch herself as they fell together while the one still hooked around Spek threw him to the ground in a frontal suplex.

If successful, she'd have slammed him down on his back and have her torso over his, her piercing green eyes staring into his brown as she lay there panting, teetering on a razor's edge between pits of rage or lust, before grabbing his belt to hold him while she rose to her knees and, instead of letting him recover, start powering her fist into his gut and ribs while venting her building frustrations and the energy those damnable pheromones had built up. After he'd pressed himself all over her face and body, it was that or flee the ring to keep her dignity.

 

[Spek Zhio]

Just where he wanted her. She, on top of him; he, with his back to the floor. And all it took was a hard slam to the ground and a few punches.

He knew from the start that, if they were going to trade blows, Kivah was sure to have the upper hand. Therefore, Spek had to play smart and get her into a grapple. The hard part was getting within the proper close proximity and with adequate leverage, since her arms and legs were longer than his and, as such, so was her reach. He did not plan for it to go down like that - in more ways than one - but, now that it did, he was ready to take full advantage.

Bracing himself for the collision into the unforgiving duracrete, Zhio literally hugged her, wrapping his arms around her torso. Right arm above her left shoulder, left arm below her right, locking his hands by tightly interlocking his fingers behind her back. It might have seem counterintuitive, falling on his back with her on top of him but, keeping his body as close to hers as possible was the best way to minimize the damage from such a destructive throw. The closer the two bodies were together, even if his would bare the brunt of the fall, the more kinetic energy would dissipate from his into hers.

Obviously, his embrace did not survive hitting the ground, and he let go of her. Kivah was on top of him and ready to pummel. While Spek, might have had a few severe bruises or even something broken. Nevertheless, he was unsure of it because, at that moment, he still lacked any feeling of pain - thanks to his adrenaline and her nociceptor implants through his empathic ability. Letting go of her was of no consequence whatsoever, nor was it the fact that she was grabbing him by the belt, as both served his next purpose perfectly.

The riskiest part, was him not being able to raise his forearms so as to cover his face, because that would allow her to get a high mount on his torso and, from then on, he was done for. He kept his arms to his side, elbows slightly lifted, upper arms almost parallel to the floor and forming a ninety degree angle with his forearms, to prevent her from mounting him. Luckily, even though the Zeltron was not protecting the vital spot that was his skull, she decided to go for the ribs instead. Again, she was being very considerate.

Aided by her grabbing his belt, the man wrapped his legs around her midsection, locking his naked feet just above the lower of her back. Taking a couple of fists to the abdomen, Spek managed to slip inside her arms' reach, by sliding his left forearm against her left as she punched for a third time. The mixture of sweat and blood on that patch of skin, aiding him in doing so. As her left arm would slide past him and hit the ground, while he leaned his body in the opposite direction to his right, she would then have both arms to his left. Spek would have clear access of her neck and left shoulder, throwing his right arm above them and around her neck, clasping hands to the right of her face, and above her left elbow forearm which would then be resting on top of his chest. At that point, it would not matter how much more powerful or larger than him she was, as it was a simple matter of physics. And joints don't bend beyond their range of motion without snapping. She could not even be able to get up from that position with her center of balance tipping towards her head and Zhio's body.

Raising his legs into a high guard, Zhio was now locking them around her chest, as tightly as his thighs allowed, his knees just below her armpits. He quickly grabbed his left shin with the right hand in order to shift the strength of the lock but keep it secure, and repositioned his right leg to be between her left arm and right side of her neck and face. Basically replacing the embrace of his arms with the downward force of his right leg against her neck. Pressing his legs down, he would cause her head to stretch towards her left side, while her arms would remain to her right, between Zhio's legs, her shoulder straining. Swiftly, he would grab her left arm with both hands and pull it towards his chest. In that grapple, Kivah's left arm would be restrained beneath her own weight, along with a locked shoulder joint thanks to the man's legs. While her right hand, could do nothing but aid in assisting her knees to maintain her balance. Had she tried to take the right hand off the floor, first she would not have enough range of motion to strike him or help gain leverage to release herself; secondly, the change in her center of gravity would tilt her towards him and only serve to facilitate Zhio's Echani hold.

Furthermore, the Zeltron was raising his back from the floor now, creating an arch thanks to the action of lifting both shoulders off the ground. Even if she managed to free her arms, she would not be able to strike him anywhere near his face, due to her right shoulder and both arms being restrained between Spek's legs. He would endure a few more blows to his lower abdomen if that was what it took. In that position, and while restrained, she would not be able to manage the full range of motion required to put any real momentum behind her strikes.

Spek would keep pushing her head down towards the ground with his legs, and stretch her arm towards him with both hands, in what is known as an arm bar. Now, he was on top - so to speak - and with his legs wrapped around her neck, cutting the flow of oxygen to her brain.

He had seen bigger and meaner tap out for much less.

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

In any normal fight Kivah would have broken the clutch and pushed him away when he broke the stiff arm pressing his pelvis into the ground, but he was lightning quick with his legs, snaking them around her before forcing her arm wide to get around her side before she could overcome her anger and react. Now he had her in a clutch and she was in a bad way. She cried out a startled gasp that sounded more like a mix of a gasp and a moan when he fully locked her right arm in, pulling it tight against his chest with both his own. The spectators caught it and, perhaps also affected by the Zelton's scent, leered in appreciation.

The tendons and ligaments in her harm began to stretch. Feeling it, Kivah twisted her trapped hand and grabbed onto Spek's left wrist and tensed her arm, trying to pull it back into place against the strength applied by his entire body stretching out, trying to fight the inevitable. Locked between his legs, she closed her eyes and began to shake as the blood trapped inside her head started to throb. It was clear that this man had been trained by the best of his people and was no mere street brawler. He'd likely spent hours a day in tutelage with a master of grappling and more out fighting other humanoids. It was this realization that caused her to begin trembling. Her marginally free left arm twisted to feel his face before she traced a razor sharp claw almost tenderly across his throat. Claws retracted again, her fingers taped across his cheek, almost as if flirting with him. Spek was intimately familiar with humanoid physiology, their joints and nerves, and that was why she was shaking with silent laughter, because in that moment she knew she would win. Her anger vanished, leaving behind the easygoing flirtiness and attraction brought about by his pheromones. And what wasn't there to like? He'd given her an amazing fight!

Priding themselves on standing above the animals of their planet, Cathar considered it debasing to lower oneself to the level of an animal and use their teeth and claws in a fight. Warriors had chosen death and pride over doing so, and that was why Kivah didn't in her fights either. But for all their intelligence and general body shape, they weren't Human, or even Humanoid, they were Feline, and Felines are water. Spek probably thought of her like all the other muscle-bound apes he'd fought. Strength and endurance, maybe some speed, easy to predict and take apart in piecemeal with the right hold and leverage. She was slipperier than that. With the outside foot under her, Kivah tilted her head back and in towards Spek, giving him an excellent hold with his leg as her trapped arm twisted, trailing fingers across his cheek as her shoulder seemed to shrug through his thighs, giving way before his strength as she relaxed it. While pulling free, she rotated her back more parallel to his and lifted so if he tried to raise a leg over her head, all it'd do was give her more freedom to press into them and keep them on the left side of her neck as she lifted. Speaking of, she took a liberating breath as her elbow slipped through his lower appendages and quickly wrapped her now free arm around them to hold them over her shoulder.

With her "trapped" arm firmly holding to his left wrist and his legs secure, Kivah could fully rise to her feet while using Spek's height as a lever, letting the little weight of the Zeltron she didn't want to carry spread to the back of his shoulders against the ground. Then, provided he didn't do something clever of his own to escape, Kivah would drag him over to the edge of the cage and put her back to it. Kivah liked to use her tail to trip up or pull an opponent that didn't realize it was prehensile. It wasn't a trick she often used, but now its tip slid through the chain link and secured her back to the pole, holding it (and now her) upright. Working her foot under his chin, she would hold it on his neck. It was almost a reversal of moments ago, her arms pulling his torso in, her leg pushing his neck away. "I will count, and then I will crush whatever you use for a wind pipe. Two," She pressed in. "Tap out in One." Harder then, actual choking, she'd give him a second before following through and stomping down. She liked him, not enough to let him win, but maybe she'd take him up on his earlier taunt and buy him dinner after all.

 

[Spek Zhio]

A thought crossed Spek's mind, a common saying that often got repeated everywhere. That cats are liquids. That they are able to squeeze through any gap and fit inside any container. Maybe the Cathar were like that as well, which could certainly be an appealing feature under certain, more intimate, circumstances. But which turned out to be a hassle, as he was previously confident he had gotten her on a hold from which she would not be able to escape.

Suddenly, he was the one with a windpipe about to be crushed. But, fortunately for him, being grabbed by one left wrist meant his right one was free, which Zhio used to push and slide her foot to his left before she could get a proper foothold on his neck. Also, despite being bigger than him, she was nowhere near twice his size, in such manner as to be able to grab both legs with one hand. She therefore had to wrap them with her whole arm, which was an easy grab to slip from, particularly once she would be put off balance from him sliding her leg off of his neck. With his whole body mass falling to the ground, and aided by the mixture of sweat and blood on his left arm - the one that had previously scrapped against the duracrete floor - getting his limbs and himself free became trivial.

Spek quickly rolled to the side and bounced back up. He knew better by now, than to hope that she would have lost balance and fell down. Particularly with that prehensile tail of hers.

As the Zeltron focused on his opponent and assumed another Echani combat stance, he noticed something hanging from her arm. Feeling an awkward breeze, he glanced down, and noticed he was fully naked. Not only having slipped out from her arm but from his pants as well.

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

With a frustrated growl, Kivah stomped her heel down where Spek had escaped to, missing him as he rolled away. Her now free hand grabbed at the chain link behind her for extra balance as the two broke and repositioned themselves. In that moment, she also switched off the nociceptor, allowing the hurt to flow through her body once more, hiding the sudden flux of pain as a sag against the wall as she assessed herself. Tuning out the pain was a powerful tool in short bursts, but long-term it would hinder her if she was hurt more than she thought and her body didn't perform as expected. Like her shoulder, she rotated the joint and felt along the cuff, sharp pain, strained but not sprained. Like the time she'd fallen and caught herself one-handed. Another ache across her abdomen and lower ribs from where he'd kneed her, along with a smattering of other bothers from hits, clutches, friction heat, and contact with the ring floor.

The pain also offered a welcome distraction from certain other urges. Kivah smirked at the Zeltron, naked now save his hand wraps, and thought of a few different things to say as she tossed his pants up and out of the cage to the spectators' amusement. Strutting forward, she openly looked him over. "Almost impressive," she conceded with am appreciative smile. "But that sort of behavior is illegal on Canto. The prudes."

Assuming her own stance again, this time her palms were open, fingers raised but held naturally. She'd decided to rely more on speed, knocking his hands away, breaking grips or springing away from grapples, while making quick strikes of her own. Spek wouldn't get a chance to take her to the floor again if she could help it as she wore him down.

 

[Spek Zhio]

Pain came rushing in and washed over the man like waves breaking onto the shore, curling and fading into a foam of throbbing and a thousand little prickles. It was not enough to pierce through the blanket of epinephrine coursing through his veins, but enough to let its presence be felt at the edge of frenzy. Whatever the Cathar had previously done, either ran out of juice or had just been purposefully shut off. Whichever the case, the surf had brought along with it other peculiar emotions. Spek attempted to decipher them... Embarrassment? Craving? And frustration, in more ways than one? Of course, overpowering all those were the seething anger that lacked any need for a detailed introspection.

"Hey! I was wearing those," the Zeltron reluctantly said, as his opponent threw his last remaining garments over the cage. "And don't try to bullshit a bullshitter," he smiled, as jesting helped ignore the pain, "It's colder than a Wampa's cave in here, and still what you're seeing rates well above impressive!"

In some places across the Galaxy, people practiced all sorts of wrestling and boxing in the nude. This was no different and it was not going to bother him in the least - provided he could still find his or some other pants to wear, after the match.

She rushed him. The thought of how easily all of that could be done with, by just using the Force, crossed his mind. Maybe, he thought, he could incorporate some of his lightsaber training into the Echani martial arts. Acquire a more aggressive posture. "You know... it's become even more apparent now... how much you've been cheating... from the start..." he teased her, between panting as he dodged, blocked, countered, and struck back, in an attempt to throw her off her game. "It's not even your genetics... extra limb down your back... or even..." some of her strikes, even when blocked, hit like a motherkriffer, "that enhancement you were using to not feel pain, up until now...

"The worst part of it now..." Zhio intently leered at her partially covered physique, "is how you're too much of a prude to meet me on equal ground!"

Trading blows was exhilarating, even though his lungs were burning, his throat coarse, there was a metallic taste on his mouth, and his head was throbbing in a syncopated rhythm along his ribs and back. He lacked all manner of shame and decorum at the moment.

"Maybe I should start cheating as well, you know?... to even the playing field a bit?"

---

Kivah

 

[Kivah]

Canto Bight, CANTONICA
South Stretch Worker's District
Tag: Spek Zhio

"Please, those things were practically wearing you." She made a show of smelling her hand and making a face, once again playing to the audience. "When was the last month those were washed?" She called out to the side she'd tossed them while ignoring his comment about shrinkage. Canto was a desert, it got cold at night and the sun had been down well over an hour now.

Then while they were beating each other again, well Kivah wasn't, she'd been trying to strike wrists and elbows while keeping him from closing into a grapple, he picked up the verbal sparing. Talking wasn't something she usually did in a fight, getting smacked across the jaw was a good way to chip a tooth or bite a tongue, and she'd sent more than one person to the floor with an uppercut mid-sentence. She kept things short, and protected her face as she replied, the sweat starting to run through her short fur. He tried to strike and she parried with a blow to the inside of his wrist, knocking his strike wide along the outside of her arm before she pulled away.

"I don't know what you mean, you'd like Cathar though." She murmured to him, triggering the nociceptor just long enough to start a punch with her good arm, turning it off again mid-thrust. She watched closely to see if he reacted. There was no way he could know, not unless? That could explain his reactions. She'd seen a few Sith fight and wondered if he was similar.

 

[Spek Zhio]

Spek deflected her jab. Not meeting it head-on, but instead twisting his body to the right - face first with the torso leaning away - and pushing with both forearms against hers so that the blow would go wide. Taking advantage of Kivah's own momentum, with little effort the Zeltron was inside her arm's reach and in close-quarters. In a single flowing movement, his right forearm kept pushing hers away, while his left bent at the joint as he aimed the elbow into her solar plexus.

In close proximity, which denied her of enough freedom of movement to gain momentum or an angle to punch at his back, she would have to either pull her arms in or take a backstep. Yet, Zhio would not allow her to do so without struggle, as he continued to quickly pummel her with right fist into the neck, left uppercut to the gut, a hook with his right knuckle to her chin, and a final straight jab with the left to her sternum. All in quick succession, intend on making her pay for every inch she wanted to claim back.

If she stood her ground he would stood his as well. Had she parried or dodged, Spek would hop back and put some distance between them both.

Having felt her previous trickery with the nociceptor, he would find a natural respite among the trading of blows to make a comment. "Shifty little kitten," forcing himself to spit blood from a previous blow, his mouth was feeling dry and the saliva thick, "are all Cathar this devious?

"What makes you think I would enjoy the company of furry creatures?" The mental image of him squeezing a warm, fluffy plushie between his arms, crossed his mind. "Are you saying you're good cuddlers, is that it?"

He wiped the tiny spots of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and licked his lower lip wet.

"First the pants and now the indecent proposal... Your flirting is so peculiar, little rancor!"

---

Kivah