Fight Club

[Voices of The Deep]

How long must a spirit wander before it finally finds what it's been looking for? How far down the rabbit hole did one have to fall...just where did this all end? These are the few of the many questions the cold woman found herself wondering...nagging at the back of her mind like thorns. She had been on the path of vengeance for so long that she was forgetting to live her life...do what 'she' liked to do. And every time she got close to doing so the memories returned...endlessly ringing. It seemed they had no intention of forgiving her. And how could she blame them?

Ice cold eyes slowly closed...taking a deep breath and filling her lunges to capacity. Then exhaling...mist making ghost of her breath as the carrier taxi came to an abrupt halt. The driver looked into the back seat to see Winter sitting with her leg crossed over her knee and her arms folded firmly across her ample chest. Bright blue eyes opened slowly, her gaze landing on the humanoid driver as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"W-we've arrived ma'am. That'll be-"

"Fifteen credits...i got it." She cut off, lifting her wrist and giving the driver his pay...with a little extra since he had gotten there quickly and not spoken to her the entire way. The meager man nodded and the doors opened...an overwhelming scent seemed to fill the taxi. Making her sigh deeply before stepping out...her gaze wandering over the structure she had requested to be taken to. The woman needed to let off some steam...and what better place to do it than the arena?

The Ice Queen wasted little time, heading through the door and allowing her breath to steady as she looked around curiously...where oh where to begin.

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Being ridiculously wealthy had numerous benefits. One was never having to take a taxi or public transportation dirtside. Occasionally when travelling incognito he might take a civilian transport to a planet, but he liked to travel alone, or with a small group of warriors from his clan. This time, it was relatively alone. The small group of escorts remained back, and let the Sith Lord go into the arena on his own.

The Sith let his red ringed, storm grey eye's drift as he put on his fighting gear, a simple black outfit without anything special and taped his hands in preparation. Vulkan needed to blow off steam. Two weeks vacation, shoved to the back of the man's mind. Draco had held dominance for two straight weeks, and now that Vulkan was back, he was going to let lose some. The gnawing of the Dreadlord on the mental cage, but for now was relatively subdued.

With a crack of his knuckles and his neck Vulkan decided to look for his competition, maybe get to know them for a moment. After a few short words with the host, he was directed to the woman, he took notice of her cold blue eyes and pale complexion. "Well, hello. Who, might I ask are you?" Vulkan wasn't terribly concerned with her identity, but he was supposed to fight her in a few moments.

[member="Winter Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

Her ice blue orbs danced over the facility as she slowly approached. Arms crossed over her chest and her body posture reserved and cold as she entered...not really caring much for the audience that had collected to see sweaty men beating the living hell out of another Winter simply did whatever she had to do in order to get into the ring...at first, she was met with suspicion. A fair reaction considering she was a woman...but still not the mans business to judge if he wanted to get paid. The man gave her a key to a locker and told her to hurry up since she was up next. Shrugging off his rudeness, she took the key and made her way back to her locker...the room was empty. Thankfully...last thing she wanted was someone gawking at her.


Winter opened her locker and sighed...getting straight to the point she began to strip down into the nude. Folding her cloths neatly and placing them into the locker before grabbing a pair of thin fabric shorts. Looking them over and cocking a brow before suddenly footsteps approached her and suddenly there was a man standing in the doorway looking at her...Winters cold gaze shifted towards him as she stood there exposed...not bothering to even cover herself as she merely stared at him with eyes that seemed to be dead. Narrowing her brows and scowling at the brute when he asked his question.

"A naked woman trying to change..." She growled back, slowly looking away and back at her shorts before leaning down and sliding her slender yet muscular legs into them...pulling them up her thighs and struggling to fit her rear into them.

"God damn it me and my fat ass..." She snarled, pulling them up and sighing...grabbing her top and sliding it on as well, kind of facing the same exact problem. She scoffed and adjusted her 'girls' before rolling her eyes and leaving them be...grabbing a pair of gloves and sliding them on along with her fighting footwear, she looked back at the man and placed a hand on her hip, popping it to the side as she stared him down. Seemingly unfazed by the fact she was just watching her change.

"What do you want?" She asked rather demandingly.


[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan raised and eyebrow, and leaned against the door frame, watching her as she got changed. His own gear had been on for a while, and he hadn't been expecting a woman to be his opponent. Then again the owner had simply assigned him to the woman randomly. "I wouldn't worry about your butt. I like junk in the trunk." He said impassively, as though normal conversation given the circumstances. He stood there continuing to watch, paying close attention to her backside, as though he would later have to describe it to a sketch artist, but he remained aware and perceptive of his surroundings. That was one of the benefits of the Force. It allowed him to maintain awareness even when his eyes were distracted.

"Your tone pains me, milady." He said, mocking a hurt tone to his voice as his storm grey eyes finally met her own. He appeared very unphased by her previous attire, even though he had paid pretty close attention. "I'm just here to introduce myself. I'm Draco Vereen, your first opponent." Certainly she had heard about the Ruin of Contruum and the man who sacked Chazwa, the Republic's capital. The Republic had broadcast his name like it was a curse for a while, and now after Roche where he had almost single-handedly routed the Republic forces, there weren't many who didn't know the name. The face though was different. Normally covered by a helmet and not everyone had seen it, even though he had ruled a galactic government not long ago.

"But, seeing you makes me want to reconsider. Maybe after we can talk?" Vulkan wasn't one for mercy, but he also wasn't one for needless violence. He much preferred her earlier than he did her current outfit, but he could manage. "Anyways, you never said your name."

[member="Lady Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

The mans comment about liking 'Junk in the Trunk' simply made Winter cock a brow in his direction. Him and just about every other member of his gender...either way, she did not really have anything to say to the brute of a man about it. Besides, she was sure she could use that information to her advantage in some way shape or form...and as the man began to tease her with his nonchalant demeanor Winter merely stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Pressing her heavy girls firmly against her muscular frame as the man explained how he was supposed to be her opponent. She gave an un-amused nod, followed by a disinterested 'Uh hu'. For some reason she felt like that just because she was a woman that he was trying to go 'easy' on her...Winter scowled at the thought.


"I did not come here to make friends or to talk. Cut the garbage and get in the ring you pansy!" She snarled, quickly walking past the brute and strutting into the fight rings waiting area...those wide ice thick hips swayed like a pendulum as her chiseled six pack and own muscular frame showed through her flawless blue toned skin. Ice cold eyes focused on the prize as she waited for her match to start. She had spent far to long locked up in formal affairs...she needed her release and she needed it now or else she was going to become increasingly violent. And that would not be ideal for anyone.


[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan smiled, walking slowly behind her, taking a last look at her rear as they entered the ring. He suspected that it was about to get ugly real fast. Draco might have doted on the woman and tried to impress her and take it easy on her, but Vulkan would not. Her chance to get out without some injury was to win or ask for mercy. Shame, he would have preferred to simply play fight in these pits, but he could manage a real fight against her. He breathed in as his feet touched the canvas mat that was the cage, surrounded in durasteel chain link fencing, separating the fighters from the fans.

His thin boots let him be mobile. He was in very different gear compared to his normal battle gear of heavy beskar armor and large bladed and blunt force weapons. No, this time he only had his body. "The safe word is 'No more Lord Vulkan' when you've had enough," he said with a toothy grin. This was going to be good for him, it had been a while since he got his fists on someone or wrapped them up. With this particular victim, it was not his preferred form of combat, but he would manage. Perhaps she would have a change of heart.

He took bounced on the balls of his feet and loosened up a bit, taking a mid Peek-a-boo boxing stance with his fists protecting his head and forearms protecting his body. She would probably be faster than him, not that he was slow by any means, in fact he had very fast hands, but he expected she would do a lot of moving around. Cornering her and bashing her around until he could ground her. He winked at her, "Let's get started then."

[member="Lady Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jr3XJr4FCYk​

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Winter's ears seemed to ring deafeningly at the crowd roared around her...men cheering and throwing a bunch of random garbage as if they were primates within a zoo...sometimes she felt as if they were the ones in the cage rather than her. Still, it mattered little at the moment. Her opponent as a rather large brute and as a result she could not just rush him expecting to overpower the man...but she also could not just let him close the distance between them and and get her into a corner. She needed to play this smart rather than aggressive cause she was certain he's dealt with opponents more ferocious than herself.


His comment about a 'safe word' simply made the woman blink...He must of thought she was one to accept such mercy. How cute...yet mistaken. If Winter was going to lose then it would be on her own terms. And as the bell went off and the match started Winter quickly dashed forward like a bat out of hell...rushing towards the brute and closing the distance between them rather quickly, making it appear as if she were going to tackle him or even just attempt a flurry of strikes...

However...the second she got within striking distance which was a good two meters, she stopped herself dead in her tracks, Using the momentum she had gathered to throw her body into a twist on the ball of her foot she lifted a leg and attempted a sidekick to the mans knee...if he dodged, then she would transition from that kick motion and do a quick hop to trade out the leg she was standing on. Using the other leg to attempt to use all the momentum from the spin to launch a devastating kick into his mid-section, hopefully forcing him back against the cage...if this failed as well, she would fall back and backpedal in circular motions to stay on the defensive.

[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan watched her dart forward. He wasn't foolish, and he suspected that unless she was a psychopath, she wasn't attempting to simply pummel an opponent double her size, no matter how toned she was. He kept light on his feet ready to move, but advanced nonetheless, knowing he would take some punishment regardless of the outcome.

When he stepped in, she stopped, his full height away and spun on the balls of her feet, lashing out with a kick aimed for his knee. Crouching lower, the most he could do was keep the leg from hitting his knee, keeping his tendons and ligaments in the knee intact, letting his thigh take the strike with a thud. She packed quite a wallop into the strike, most certainly going to bruise him as her shin struck out.

Just as she did so, she continue, aiming a second spinning kick higher up, now aimed for his torso given his crouched posture, but she could easily go higher and kick him in the head. Knowing taking a shin to the side of the face would prove much more painful than the shot to the leg, he raised his arm to fully cover his face and attempted to hook the leg from the second kick as he continued his controlled forward momentum.

[member="Lady Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

Blood pulsed through the womans cold veins as her icy blue eyes narrowed...the man did not seem like the heavy offensive type. Given his defensive posture and steady movements the woman was led to believe he was a stationary fighter...focused on head movements, bobbing and perhaps take downs...wrestler, judging from how firmly he planted himself. Winter could relate since during her training with Earth Shaping she had to adopt a similar style in order to stand firm. But over time she began to adapt and remain swift on her feet to prevent her from being a sitting duck.

Which was exactly what her opponent seemed to be doing with his crouched positioning. While he had successfully deflected her first two assaults, she could only assume that if she remained where she was he would attempt to tackle her and take her down. Something she could not risk.

Winter quickly back peddled, remaining light on her feet and keeping a fair distance so she could study...observe...adapt. The man was a brute and therefor had his advantages...but being so heavy had its disadvantages as well. Keeping her fist balled tightly and her eyes on him the woman waited...wanting to see what he'd do next.


[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan moved back to his feet when she retreated, hitting his leg with his fist to pump blood back into it and to acknowledge the dull ache he shin had left in his thigh. It was time to do something about her, he was going to get hit if he went on the offense while standing, but he didn't have to land many to take the advantage. He was at the minimum twice her size and years of Force enhancement had left his body strong and rugged, tougher than the average man should be. He was used to catching lightsabers with his hands, swatting away blaster bolts, and creating bubbles to survive strafing runs from gunships. A few punches and kicks she could dish out was surely nothing to the Sith Lord. He had had his back broken, been impaled, had his arm almost torn off, and been thrown through his fair share of duracrete walls.

He smiled maliciously, advancing on her quickly keeping light on the balls of his feet, hands up to protect his head. Once he got within a couple meters of the woman, close enough to step in on her and throw a punch he feinted low, trying to back her up against the chain link cage, and then he stepped in fast, closing to striking distance, wounded left leg forward, aiming an right upper cut for the center of her midsection, just under the ribs, hoping to nail her solar plexus and drive the wind from her body. As a follow up, he drove his left forearm forward from the side sweeping it towards her head, intending to daze her or drive her to one side.

[member="Lady Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

How long had she been doing this...indulging herself in such savage activities in the hope of emptying herself of the shame...of all the coldness that ran through her veins. Her coldness was starting to take a toll on her mind...to live life never feeling what was it like to truly believe in something...to fight for something. Sometimes the woman felt like an empty shell being manipulated by some kind of ghost within her. Sometimes Winter felt like she was walking on thin ice. One misstep and everything could be lost...she'd be drowning and the frosty water would fill her lunges. But the thing is...she had been drowning for years now.

And as those icy blue eyes watched as the man stood back to his feet and went on the offensive. Clenching her fist and backing herself closer to the metal fenced walls as he closed the distance between them. And as the brute launched a strike towards her mid section Winter quickly moved herself into the man. If he was launching a strike, the closer she got before it could build momentum the less damage it would do...and as the mans brick of a fist impacted her mid section Winter planted her hands into his chest and just as quickly pushed herself away from him to get some distance.

Winter narrowed her eyes and looked to see him going in for yet another strike...The woman did little to dodge. Simply allowing the fist to crash into her cheek and jack, forcing her neck and torso to twist from the impact.

Winter stumbled to the side, her vision blurred as her brain rattled on the inside of her skull for a moment before resuming her defensive stance...facing back towards the man and lifting her hands up, Winter scoffed and dashed forward quickly, deciding to take a more creative approach, she jumped high into the air and planted her feet into the caged walls beside her opponent. Pushing herself off the wall and attempting to land a vicious side kick to the mans face with enough force to possibly ground him for a moment.

If that attack failed, she would land beside him and remained crouch, attempting a leg sweep to throw his legs from underneath him.


[member="Darth Vulkan"]

 

[Laira Darkhold]

She bounded off the cage wall and sprung at him, it was a bit to quick for him to dodge, and given that his weight was on his injured left foot all he could really do was pivot a little towards her. His instincts told him to take her to ground, even if it meant taking a kick. If he could get her on the ground in a grapple it was Suplex City time and he could just hang on to her around the waist and grind the smaller woman to dust. Vulkan's action brought him a bit closer to her, taking the kick behind the ear, making his vision immediately crossing and blurring him. Man if he had the Force this would be over already, he thought to himself.

Off instinct he let his body go with the force of the strike bringing his hand up to catch that leg while it was still following through. If he was successful, he could get a hold of her and drag her down to the ground while he fell backwards into a roll. Even on the ground she could be dangerous, but unable to move she would be much easier to deal with. Unfortunately dazed and with an injured leg his roll would be ugly, hardly a fluid roll through into the ankle lock he might have wanted to attempt.

[member="Lady Sovereign"]

 

[Voices of The Deep]

Winter had never really known what it was like to have official training in combat from a master or instructor...ever since she was a young girl she was expected to be the 'Lady' of the house and thus fit into the gender roll she was born into as a Sovereign...the idea of her fighting was unfeasible to her parents. And as a result Winter was often left questioning her identity and sexual affinity. She may of had the body of a woman but for some reason she had always possessed the mind of a wrathful goddess who demanded respect and was a master of war.

And now, almost thirty years later she was here. Doing what she felt made her 'alive'. Fighting...not just for the win of some silly match no. Winter could care less about this entire event...no, she craved the thrill. The potential outcome of her dying...the fear of death corrupted her mind and pushed her primitive instinct to survive. To adapt...to overcome. How many times had she heard foolish beings state 'i am not afraid of death'...the level of arrogance squeezed into a single phrase left a bad taste in the ice queens mouth. Without the fear of death what pushed one to survive? The fear of death had always been what pushed winter to do the unthinkable when it came down to it. Her heart was not always made of ice...

And as the strike from her kick landed neatly on the side of his head Winter scoffed and continued to follow through with her secondary strike...but before she could even get far she felt the mans callus grip wrap around her ankle. Eyes went wide as she dug her foot into the mat and caught herself so she did not simply fall down from lack of balance...and as the man pulled her in and attempted a rather sloppy roll to bring her with him the womans ice cold gaze went wide as she was pulled along with him and dragged into what felt like a ball.

Winter gasped, biting her lip in fury as she squirmed. Damn brute had managed to get her on the ground and the odds of her breaking the grip were unlikely...quickly, she scanned his body and tried to think of a way out...any way out. Rolling around on the mat and using her own momentum to keep him from being on top.

She leaned in and twisted her leg...feeling it bend rather awkwardly as she took her other leg and wrapped it half way around his torso via between the neck and shoulder. Taking her arms and attempting to grab his biceps and pull them backwards with enough force to hopefully make him submit. Her body now resting upon his shoulders and such like some kind of awkward pretzel. Her own body aching from them stretching of her body.

This could go either way at this point. But no matter what, if he got her exposed enough to grapple the fight would be over far quicker than she'd like.

[member="Darth Vulkan"]


(Eyyyy i found the muse to post =D)

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Vulkan twisted and turned, but in the end he wound up with his arm strained against the woman's chest as she attempted a cross arm bar, with her butt in his face. Vulkan was two things. A Sith Lord without remorse, mercy, and was utterly ruthless. And he was willing to win by any means necessary. With how she was positioned, there were a couple of avenues to try and break the hold, to save the arm's use for today. First and foremost there were hammer fist strikes.

The tendons in his left arm straining, pulling taunt. His right arm however bashed for her kidneys repeatedly, seeking smashing the fist down into the woman's lower back as though he were stabbing her with a knife in a brutal fashion, his muscles and sinews surging as he did so.

Finally, he reacted much like an animal would in this situation, biting hard into the flesh just above her thigh, just below the hem of the shorts she wore, seeking to draw blood if necessary. A shame to mar the hide of such a creature, but it was her own fault. All she had to do was ask for it to stop.

[member="Lady Sovereign"]