Post by Jake on Dec 28, 2012 4:32:56 GMT -5
02:24:46 [Lara] An audible exhale escaped her cupid bow lips of ruby, the sigh made as her graceful step carried her from the cover of the Coliseum's innards and onto the field. A Sixth Year match, particularly one with popular opponents – a crowd had been drawn to the stone benches, Valentines day or not. The femme had utmost confidence in her ability and prowess, the precision placed in both her gifts a true credit to her impeccable skill and determination to study and practise. Perfection was an unreachable goal, but one she strived for ultimately. Lara would never settle for second best. Jake would be beaten and she would proceed to the final challenges, pride in check and victory in reach. The French belle's provocative sway came to a slow halt as she neared the centre of the field – Jake and Xander, the apparent Supervisor already in attendance. She wore the form fitting navy of her standard issue shorts, a tailor back in France forced into adjusting the garment to suit her taste and allure. The shirt although, had been swapped for something a little larger. Her initial garb was a little too constricting on the swell of her breasts, all the more tempting as time passed. Though slim, and the nip at her enviable waist still visible the usually slight concave to her abdomen was evidently missing. That was, beneath the shielding for her loose shirt. Instead there was only the slightest mound of growth, perhaps telling tales of overeating at lunch. Unfortunately for Lara, the situation was far worse than bloating after gluttonous greed – it was a fix that would place horror and fear in the heart of any youthful human girl. Imprisoned in Hex? Her situation was all the more dangerous. In one hand was the pink zippo – a Sixth year could very well create the Element she wished to manipulate, but Lara took comfort in the familiarity of the metal as she shifted it about dexterous fingers. Baby pink, with Princess embellished on the side. Hidden beneath her upper garments was a simple necklace, a pendant in the form of a single letter - X hanging from the chain. Magnus vs Tritus. The winner earned twenty points for their House, and the finals were all the more bountiful. An accented purr, her head came to a coy cant, eyes of emerald regarding Jake in challenge. “Good luck.” Dainty hand extended, the pearl of her perfected, unmarred flesh gifted to him in a shake of good sportsmanship. Let's do this shit. Xander would give the word when their battle may begin.
02:51:01 [Jakey] Jake ate little at the lunch table, nursing a bread roll as he listened to the group, their talk of trivial dances came after the discussion of his oncoming challenge. The time to battle in the gauntlet had hastily fell upon him, the usual excitement which surged was considerably lacking. The downtrodden Mila had not gone unnoticed, her usual bubbly self somewhat repressed, an inkling to her disappointment at Emri’s disappearance his only clue. The usually mischievous smile which adorned his features had been replaced with a sense of reassurance, despite the underlying guilt he felt for his pent up feelings. Teenaged flirtatious dalliances would have to wait however, because the time to fight was upon him, Jake wouldn’t be so rude a to leave a lady waiting. His journey to the coliseum had been brief, returning excited greetings and encouraging words with nods of acknowledgement. Upon entering the field, his previous attire had changed, exchanging the usually mussed up shirt and eschewed tie for just a plain white Tee and knee length shorts. The shirt which covered his chest was simply formality, when walking out to meet the cheers of the crowd and to stand beside the proctor, Jake tore the shirt down the middle, revealing his sculpted masculinity, prominent abdominals and pectorals on display. Always a crowd pleaser. A curt nod went ignored by the proctor, Xan once again giving him the cold shoulder, a furrowed brow the only inclination to his worried thoughts, of which Jake was oblivious to. It wasn’t long before his intended opponent joined him on the field, Lara in all her exotic glory, the attention he previously gathered was drawn to her naturally. “Likewise.“ Friends they may be but on the fields of the gauntlet, such reserves could find you on your front, ass up and carried off in a stretcher. Taking her offered hand in his, grip firm and a tight challenging squeeze, oh how his hands could crush her own dainty fingers but the grip was only temporarily tight, pulling away and preparing himself for the starting bell. Given the go ahead, Jake struck. A single palm strike, enough force to knock the girl down onto her pert rear, it seemed Jake wasn’t ready to commit to barbarism just yet.
03:06:23 [Xander] It was a strain upon the Metamorphosis Professor, knowing that one of his most able pupils was about to go up against Lara Locke of all people. He was waiting for the combatants of the Gauntlet, standing upon the field with his muscular arms crossed over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes were worried. He nodded to Connolly when the werewolf approached. He eyed the young man as he tore his shirt open and shook his head, "Boy, quit your showboating. Act serious." Because the consequences would be dire for Jake should his claws go anywhere near what Lara was hiding under her overlarge shirt. When she entered their own personal arena, his eyes flicked over her face and her figure, checking her body language. Good. She was confident. He watched the handshake and nodded. The both of them knew the rules. Anyone who tried anything lethal would get shut down and disqualified. He was really the best person to judge this particular match-up since he knew best what a werewolf body could take. He took a step back from the combatant and then another and then another. He didn't want to get burned when Lara began throwing fireballs. He lifted his whistle to his lips and gave a short blast. The signal to begin.
03:13:35 [Lara] His performance was met with the roll of her eyes, and a smirk at her lips. The whistle sounded. Jake's shove hit only air – the girl was quick on her feet, concentration garnering undivided attention as she leapt backward to avoid the strike. “Too slow,” she commented in a light-hearted taunt. The girl was moving backward, dance-like steps carrying her further from him. At a distance, she could beat him. Hand to hand, close combat? The Were would tear her throat out. At a distance, Lara flipped the zippo and conducted a small, flickering flame – never failing, the burn lingered even as she pulled it from the human tool and wielded it away. In mere seconds she conducted it with a graceful shift of her dainty hand, flourishing and rolling her wrist to expand the hovering sphere of fire. Large enough, her right hand rose as she brought the ball even higher and to the left – in her line of vision, unreachable and dancing for further use. The girl continued to move swiftly about the Arena, while a swish of her fingers halved the ball once, and again. The result? Six spheres of the unforgiving element, in her casting reach and dancing above for use when she would need it. The zippo was tucked into the waistband at her hips, leaving her hands free for play. In a sing-song voice the Siren called, eerily in the quiet of the Coliseum “Allez chiot.” This was a strong young woman. The horrors that had startled her on arrival at Hex were adjusted to. Finding the body of Charlemagne had not defeated her. The murderers attack on her person had not broken her. Connelly could not harm her – the taste of victory was already on her tongue as she skimmed it over the plush lower of her ruby lips. She spared but a moment to place her hand over the precious life that dwelled in her womb, a sidelong glance cast to Xander. The only risk, her only fear.. Wounding a student was allowed within the Arena, expected, even. Fatalities were not permitted but even the slightest of attacks could endanger the precarious position of her unborn child. This, spurred her inner rage. Unwarranted hatred produced in the battlefield had her slender arm reaching fro one bolt of fire. Instead of carrying it in it's spherical form, the dancelike shift and glazed concentration of her eyes spun it – like a ball of twine, a long rope of fire came and with the alteration of her decisions came a shift. Lara pulled the tucked away zippo, and with a flourish attacked the long rope of flame to it's edge. All the while she had never been still. Multi-tasking quite the trait of women, supposedly, her nimble step danced tauntingly about, out of reach. Attaching the rope to the zippo in her hand created a weapon both deadly and horrifying to the boy. A whip. Emerald eyes reflected the burnish of her element, and the spitfire physically lunged as she swung her arm with the finesse of a relatively fit girl. “Kyyaaa!' The whip lashed out at his bared chest. He'd need be quick to evade the flay which would burn and bite.
03:37:38 [Jakey] Stop showboating? Impossible for the Were, his character would deny him the chance to step into the spotlight, brimming tauntingly with arrogance. He didn’t underestimate the girl, he had fought enough in the gauntlet to know that over confidence could easily leave him lying pained in the infirmary. There would be no reply from the wolf, looking around at the stands and eager eyes glaring down expectantly at the scene about to ensue. Rough hands would clench into fists, tightening reflexively before opening once more, a roll of the shoulders and a crack of the neck would signal his readiness, albeit he still held reluctance. How could he get serious? A supposed friend and irregular date partner was staring him down on the field, he was supposed to main and brutally beat her, all for the glory of the crowd and apparent training. Jake’s reserves shown he meant well, but would most likely leave him on the losing end of the match if he didn’t give her everything he had. Something Lara had no qualms with revealing. The palm strike met only empty air, the girl dancing away from his grasps, creating the distance mages were all too familiar with. Despite general worries, the corners of his mouth curled into an amused smile. Perhaps his worries were misplaced. The performance which followed dazzled the crowd, “oo’s” and “aaah’s” escaping their mouths as Lara proved just how experienced she was with her own element, Jake couldn’t help but be a little impressed. Stalling however would not be on the menu, for as he tried to close the distance between them, she leapt away, skirting out of his reach. The rope of fire she wielded with a tasselled baton like grace, the length coming dangerously close to his bare body, an agile sidestep during his advance had allowed for his hasty dodge. With an arm raised, he sought to knock the poor girl to the ground, a close line like manoeuvre, bare muscled arm coming to chest an driving her off her feet.
03:49:14 [Lara] The failed attempt earned a frown from the belle, but resolving that persistence would be key, she did not relinquish her whip. A clever lass, she had spawned the idea after watching an epic – Lord of The Rings, in imitation of Balrog. It was one of many creatively inspired creations of her element. Jake had seen nothing yet. She had been poised to attempt another lash when suddenly, the insane motherfucker in the membrane came sprinting at her with the force of a dozen trucks. It was hard to miss his approach. She gasped fearfully, and reacted on instinct. Rather than sidestepping as he had done to avoid the onslaught of flames, the nimble beauty ducked to a crouch – similar to her prowess on a frosted lake, or Ballet stage she turned. Spun, really. Once, twice. As for the whip, still wielded by the undying grasp of the zippo in her right hand she swung as she spun – clipping his legs with both burn and bite.
04:03:38 [Jakey] The lick of flame whizzing past his body had brought on the surge of exhilaration he usually felt when competing, when the prospect of a challenge presented itself. Although the length of the rope had missed, the heat radiating from it had been felt, the thought of it touching skin was daunting, even if he could heal. Much like her own attack, and his very first, Jake once again struck the air, a startled crouch freeing Lara from his possible assault. He came to a skidding halt across the grass, flicking blades of green beneath him in his attempt to turn. In one moment he stood upright, turning his gaze to his opponent, the next he was found on his ass, the whip sweeping him off his feet, much like the Were intended for the little pyro. A growl escaped clenched lips, a light throb growing upon his behind. An angered fist slamming the grass covered ground, rising to all fours he pounced from the ground, a movement only capable of a man and animal combined. Eyes trained on the whip, flickering between her engaged countenance and the weaving rope, he began his next dash, unlike the wrestling technique he sought after, he now chose a more conventional approach, hands transformed into claws, a swipe through the air threatened to rend shirt and flesh combined.
04:14:32 [Lara] Unfortunately for Lara, though her double lash at his shins may have pained, startled, knocked him from his feet and momentarily preserved herself – it did not render her victor. The Were would slowly heal the wounds to his shins, the graze of a whip and burn of flame alike. Still, she had startled him, pained him and his next few movements were likely to suffer in turn. If one were to imagine they were wrestlers, Jake was clearly the offensive opponent, darting around and tiring himself while she lay in wait until he was nolonger able to defend himself against her unvanquished energy and force. While he fell on his rear, she was rising to her feet and stepping back with limber precision. As expected, the enraged Were allowed emotion to dominate and rather than considering a more effective approach, he hauled himself at her again. The crowd which had gone wild for her whip, and again at Jake's lunge and absolutely insane when the first hit occurred sounded again as the Were failed. Lara had darted from his violent embrace too quickly to be caught. Left hand took to a rise, drew down while splayed fingers formed a fist as though she were gripping a softball. With enough distance between them she threw the sphere of fire up as one might a serve in a match of tennis. As gravity took over the lapse of control, the femme performed a well timed swing of her whip. Batter up. Aimed for his head, it would burn him into submission. Possibly fatal for anyone other than a regenerative being. He would heal – fast enough to save himself for the oncoming attention of the Healers, but slow enough to deliver a tidy little win to Lara's greedy fingers.
04:34:11 [Jakey] The strenuous and active movements of Jake would seem tiring to some, certainly giving the impression that he would be tiring himself out. This was wrong. Certainly after awhile he would be draining himself but he always boasted about his stamina and not just when in the bedroom. Over the course of the match the cries of the crowd resounded, the teenaged roars at their performance were encouraging. Propping himself up, the growl would signify his impatience, an inkling that her dancer like movements, lithe ducks and weaves were aggravating the wolf. His temper however wouldn’t be a sign for all to see, only Lara in the intimate confines of their battle could see that with each blow he was growing ever more serious. Rage wouldn’t cause the wolf to lose control, no instead he made it work for him, fuelling his oncoming strikes, a welcomed guide and worthy weapon to help prevail in the fight to come. The pressure would be on as he rushed towards her, evident in her fair countenance, she equally reacted to his own movements. The tossed sphere of flame rocketing for the face he seemed to cherish and fawn over in the mirror so many times before. With a boxers twist, he half stepped, leaning the top half of his body away from the oncoming flame, it whizzing past his head, heat licking his cheek, a light burned graze from the intensity. Not wanting a drawn out fight, Jake had chosen to attempt to end it earlier than the crowd would anticipate. The pursuit began once more, just like it always had, hands remaining as claws, seeking out tender flesh as he attempted to sink them into her petite form, followed by accompanying sharpened canines in a feral bite to the shoulder. Savage and unbridled.
04:47:02 [Lara] It may have sated her hunger for blood, to see the playboy's pride and joy mutilated, if only temporarily, alas fate did not smile upon her. Instead he managed to evade the oncoming sphere of relentless, molten fire and escape with only the most menial of burns. Suddenly he was upon her. The girl fell with a gasped cry to the ground beneath, the thud momentarily stun her while claws went for flesh and his teeth. Lady Luck smiled upon Locke, in the moment her instinctive shift managed to roll her out from beneath him before he pierced her further than a simple graze of claws – branding her torso with a surface cut. It stung, but it barely bled. This was not something that would fell her. Meanwhile her fall had caused her flame to touch the ground, scorching the grass in it's path. As Healers awaited the mess of the opposing students, Earth Mages would salvage what was left of the Arena in preparation of Physical Education, Durusball and another match another day. Healthy grass did not inflame as dry would, so her fire died out before it could create an inferno that would lick and tear at both of their forms – Elementals were not immune to their own gifts. Water would drown a wielder of the liquid just as fire would burn Lara to ash. With five orbs of burning, hovering flames in the air above the angered, shaky girl reached for two with the graceful, dance-like reach of both arms. One arm slung back then pitched forth, throwing the sphere for his torso. One. The next, she aimed for his feet. Two By now the beautiful French belle was panting, chest heaving with laboured breaths and panic, adrenaline coursing through her petite frame while the exhaustion of pregnancy tired her.
04:48:02 Odette` struggled to hide her obvious dislike of the required Gauntlet matchups between students and found herself rolling her eyes at the added incentive of House points making the whole thing so much more prestigious than it actually was, dressed in the self same uniform she wore while in the Hospital wing she sported yet another pristine lab coat teamed with the usual dark hued skirt and shirt ensemble. Arms remained folded across her chest as she found herself watching the fight unfold between the fire mage the werewolf with mild interest, admittedly she thought the match to be rather evenly set and the first series of blows proved her initial thoughts right as the duo literally danced around one another until Lara got in the first hit. Dark eyes trailed after the fiery whip as it flickered in the air above the mage who controlled its movement, the crowd had in fact lapped it all up as they seemed to collectively cheer at key moments when one or the other made an impressive display of power.
05:08:25 [Jakey] It seemed the pair were both escaping each others reach, only one strike of surprised luck had aided in harming him, the whip knocking him to the ground. However since the two managed to dance around the battlefield, one gracefully dodging or skirting away from his clutches, the other weaving and bobbing with masculine tenacity. A narrow avoidance had allowed him to escape the flames barely scathed, yet his own approach had equally delivered the slightest of grazes, not enough to harm but capable of renewing his vigour. Frantic hands grasped for her as she rolled out of his clutches, the scorching flame blackening the greens, hot to the touch. Before he could pounce upon her form and once more sink fags into that porcelain skin, she managed to right herself, with features appearing somewhat desperate, two of the encircling smouldering spheres would rush towards him, the pair lining up with one another, one aimed for the chest, the other aiming for his legs, impact surely capable of knocking him to his ] his ass once more. Jake had other plans. As the two neared, the distance between each of them created a comfortable space, one Jake had decided to dive through, an acrobatic and equally as athletic tumble roll, wedging him through the gap of each. He didn’t escape the searing heat and the clip of the fire’s clutches, the pair both burning his abdominal and upper back, would easily heal but still burned with ferocity much like his own. At the roll’s end, he came to a crouch, a wicked grin upon his lips, the sharpened fangs bared, no longer concealed by pursed lips. An explosion of grotesque bone cracking and moulding flesh would leave the Tritus boy lost, in his place an entirely larger wolf. Gold flecked brown eyes transformed into sulphuric yellow hues, fur a thick tousled sable. A rumbling deep growl left the wolfish smile, torn shorts and flicked away sneakers were left scattered as the beast that remained stalked his prey. Still in control of his new form, four paws pounded the black grass, dashing towards the girl and leaping upon her as one would their quarry. Pinning her to the ground and slobbering fangs dipping in a reserved graze.
05:27:19 [Lara] Her own teeth were bared in a more humane of snarls, feeding off of the scent of burned flesh that impacted the mere graze her attacks dealt upon him. Growling low, the deathly purr naturally harmonic. “Baiseur!” With only one sphere of fire dancing above her, the girl would need to conjure more flame, or harness the tool of her baby pink zippo. For the moment, she caught her breath with the slow, taunting step of predator against prey, circling him as he gave way to the shift to his bestial form. Maddeningly enough she threw back her head of brunette locks, ruby-stained lips giving way to a melodic and insulting cry of laughter. Beast. The girl had been raised to the elitism of Mages and Sirens, accepting of Fae but regarding all else as beasts. Shifters, Were and Mer alike. Animals. Though her romance with Xander had otherwise curbed the lash of her tongue, one could not erase the instinctive thought known to her for seventeen years. In the heat of battle, she laughed. When he lunged at her with the true force and lack of strategy as a true beast, Lara had no issue in sidestepping and dancing away with a quick sprint. A Siren need not ignore her power. That melodic laughter had ceased, replaced with a steady and ethereal hum that seemed to echo through the bowled stadium, it's hold directed entirely at Jake though the beauty of the sound would not be lost to any. One. If successful she would lull him to a temporary standstill, heightened as she proceeded with the stalk of a temptress. His eye, even in such a form could not ignore the sway of her perfected hips, nor the audible breath at her lips. Her scent was exuding with the pheromones of a female wolf – drawing him into adoration and trust, rather than the distinct desire to kill. Two. Manipulative of senses, the femme did not only barrage scent and sound – no, she played at sight. What could a young belle possibly do to quell the rage of a man? Wonderboy had a weakness. Youthful girls would tell their secrets to their closest. Some details may be lost on her, but Lara was relatively privy to his infatuation with Mila – small tales told, and opening her eyes to the blatancy of his interactions with the Seer. To his eyes and his alone, wavy length of brunette turned sable, lengthening and straightening to her waist. Almond shaped orbs of emerald took to the exotic line of Mila's, their color striking silver and smoke. Her countenance shifted then too and when Lara dared to approach there was more than met the eye. “Jake,” she whispered, so close while her hands toyed at betrayal behind her back. “Please. Don't hurt me.” Three. Lara's accent had shifted, for melody was her achievement and the Australian's voice easily commanded. Now, for those devilish fingers? They had drawn the final ball behind her, lengthening and wielding until it was spiralling as a rope much like the whip. Instead though, without needing to harness it's end she directed it with her whip, noose already formed and sent over the thick neck of the wolf in a lasso. It tightened. It seared, it choked. Lara hoped to bring him down. Four.
05:57:58 [Jakey] The black monster which replaced the charmingly chiselled boy continued to snarl, his appearance threatening and in his presence one feeling would encapsulate Lara. I’m in danger. Although seemingly wild as he stalked her, pacing circles around the petite fire mage, wild yellow hues taking in every curve, eyeing delicate porcelain hungrily. For all the monstrosity and bestial he was, wolfish brows would quirk into a question, the laughter erupting from her lips strange, was it fear that brought out the sudden outburst? The attempted pounce was dodged, black mass soaring through the air and landing upon the empty ground, black and green blades scattering beneath paws. Spinning he sought out his prey once more, the laughter having died with his lunge, but the ether was in the air and magic would be worked. Before the wolf could advance, confusion baffled sulphuric yellows, a light with parts feral and intelligent, he halted in his tracks. The voice within his mind echoed a single question. “Mila?“ No longer was the fiery French vixen before him, instead stood the Australian student who had the wolf so smitten. Lingering in his place, head cocked to the side, knowing that it was some form of trick but the underhanded blow had certainly shook him. Beginning a slow approach, nose sniffed the air, catching the all too alluring and familiar scent, he voice tumbled from her lips preying on his desire to hunt. “No, I’d never, I would never…“ His thoughts trailed off, a distinct burning sensation snapping him awake. Free from the illusion for the barest of moments, head reared back, narrowly escaping the noose. A vicious rumbling growl escaped his lips, more beast than man, infuriated at the deceit. Dashing towards her, snapping at the air, he threatened to grab her about the waist with his giant maw, tossing her into the grass. Rather than the delayed pounce of earlier, he continued his attempt at biting her, pinning Lara with one paw, sinking canine fangs into her shoulder.
06:17:05 [Lara] It would seem her underhanded glamour had manipulated it's control only briefly, her lure upon him lost once she dared to attempt the noose around his neck. Missing, she cursed furiously and then the Were was lunging for her. Lara screamed. Actually, screamed. The sound tore through with both agony and fear, slender arms wrapping around her abdomen just before his maw closing in around her and the slender limbs before tossing her to the ground. Though he had not attempting to tear her limb from limb, his teeth had obviously left their mark upon her flesh, blood seeping from the wounds on her arms while she was unceremoniously tossed on her arse in the grass. Disorientated, the pained belle staggered to her feet quick enough to avoid the pinion he attempted next. Control began to lapse and true fear inhibited where it should not – legitimately she was relatively safe with Odette and the nurses close at hand. <u>Xander</i> would not let things get so far. Unfortunately before, Hex had it's share of accidents during these battles and in pain, frightened and tired she began to think she may be one of those unlucky victims. Mind assaulted with imagery from her walk in the woods, Lara shuddered. Still, the instinctive urge to protect the precious life within would not allow her to give up, nor quake in fear. Victory would be hers. Rage inspired. How dare he go for her middle. Who did this pup think he fucking was? The back of one hand wiped at the blood that seeped from her bitten tongue, trailing as it was from the corner of her mouth and she backed up. Edging away? Why do you run? Nay. Lara was backing for a run up, darting into a forward sprint as she turned the tables with a lunge at him. Her petite form would find itself about the furred back of his form, bleeding one arm slung too tightly around his neck to be bitten. One. The other went for his eyes. Yes, she had remembered that walk of hers, and the manner in which she had managed to escape – the memory clouded with drink, pain, horror and darkness – but glimpses were there. Right hand went for the zippo and she was flicking a flame, jabbing the bloody tool into the beasts eyes repeatedly. Somehow she went from attempting to burn to grunting and gasping like a banshee while she punched, jabbed and clawed french manicured nails into his sensitive eyes. Two A Mage could fight like a beast, too.
06:31:39 [Jakey] It was easy to lose yourself when you’re a werewolf, the constant struggle between the inner beast and the man outside, constantly on the edge and threatening to leap off at any crossed word. Jake liked to think he had control, that the wolf within was tamed by himself, calling upon it at his own whims, believing himself to be dominant. Oh how wrong the boy was. The wolf was just as aggressive, commanding and violent as he, and when cloaked in sable fur, even more so. Everything was heightened and the scream which caused propped ears to flicker and twitch was all too clear. The worrisome thing…he enjoyed it. The terror in her vocals, startling tone sending shivers down his spine, invigorating him to assault, to pounce, to kill. Tongue lapped at the remnants of blood which graced his fangs, the result of tearing soft flesh beneath rough capturing. Unlike his previous attacks, where the wolf bounded about the grass in an attempts to pin her with his giant weight, he instead came to a slow stalk, leaning low, fur on end and growl all too prominent. Sounding more like a lion than that of a canine. He didn’t need to rush the Pyro, she instead chosen to attack him. Perhaps it was panic which ruled her actions, or perhaps impatience, as the girl running towards him would instead be caught mid leap. Rising up on hind legs to capture the student in the air within his maw, then with the flick of his head, continue to toss her from side to side, still keeping her in his clutches but effectively shaking the life from her, before a slam to the ground finishing her at his feet.
06:46:49 [Lara] Rather than managing her attack, it would seem the petite belle was caught, the destructive leap intercepted. Before he could toss her about, her attack upon his eyes preserved her. One of his eyes in pain and temporarily blinded, the girl found herself on the ground again. The rough and tumble of their match was pure brutality. It upset her weak stomach easily, and unlike the Were she was slim and unable to regenerate automatically – falls would bruise her, cuts did graze her. “Putain!” With an exerted grunt the dishevelled lass pushed back to hands and knees and rose to her feet, stance affected by her oncoming exhaustion. With lax precision, she flicked the zippo lid and ignited a small flame. In milliseconds the shift of her hand had drawn the fire from the humane tool, and fired it like a pyro – the movement expanding the burn so that it fanned out from her hands in a blast. She aimed for his face. A wolven face it may be, but half blinded and on his return to human form he would be just as burned and blistered. If he advanced on her, as presumably he would, one sneakered foot would jut out on a most unfair kick to his nads. Were or not, her kick was hard and likely to fell him. Boys and their weaknesses, really.
7:03:42 [Jakey] With intended precision, the Magnus student would be caught within his jaws once more, her petite form tender in his grasp, with one crushing chomp he would likely sever torso from pelvis, luckily for her death was not his intention. Victory was believed to be in his grasp, a paw away, all he had to do was snatch it, but Lara had something to say about that, her lighter did too. Fires sparked to life and in a single ignition, the flames scarred and seared, the girl rolling from his maw and dropping to the ground, wolf writhed with pain, tearing through thousands of imaginary foes with snapping jaws. The pain had more than the usual ill effect it garnered, the control Jake so often exercised and boasted off slipped from his grasps, much like the victory. Dropping to his side, the monstrous wolf writhed across the ground, arms and legs replacing paws, clutching at the half wolf half human face, covering the scar. An audible curse had been cried, the naked form of the boy now stood, one hand clutching at the burn, the other curling into a claw. Turning to face Lara, he removed the shielding hand, revealing the grotesquery that was marred skin. With gritted teeth, one still able eye, albeit watered, glared at her as he advanced. With one tearing slash, a final attempt at rending flesh tore through the air, hoping to slice the girl from shoulder to waist. Any further attacks would be abruptly stopped, a swift kick to the family keepsakes, the crown jewels hindered by a sneaker clad foot. Breathless he dropped to his knees, guarding his groin from further assault, it was clear that they had a winner.
07:15:42 [Lara] And so it seemed, Lady Luck had turned her smile upon Locke once more. Not only had she seemingly incinerated his pride and joy, but once the Were shifted to his original and most natural of states, birthday suit and all, he failed to evade her low kick. Truly, low. Lara wasn't above resorting to the most usable attack in the How to be a Bitch for Dummies hand book. Surely, her sneaker impacted his family jewels – unprotected by armour nor clothing, and he went down. Unnecessary after what she had done to his slowly healing face, but already Doctor Hawthorne and Nurse Valorian were on the field and sprinting for the boy. Lara staggered some as she backed away from him, an unfriendly smirk prettily finding itself about her lips whilst she admired her handiwork. Oui, he was prettier this way. No? Now her emerald orbs winced through the pain of her grazed stomach, arm and tossed about body. Bruised, sore, tired and worried for her unborn baby. She would find soon that it was safe. For now though, enchanting gaze found Xander on the sidelines as he arrived to name the victor, his hold coming about her slim wrist and rising her arm. Exhausted, she yet managed a grin while the crowd cheered her victory. Mila on the stone benches was glad her friend had won but was worried for Jake. Particularly what had happened to the boy's face and err.. goods. Unnoticed by the Siren, she waltzed off the field while Jake's naked form was put upon a stretcher, modesty preserved with a casted sheet and carted off toward the infirmary. Skilled healers would only require a temporary stay. His wounds, with the help of his own regenerative abilities would all but disappear within the hour and then he was free, if a little in need of rest, to spend the remainder of his evening as he pleased. Fingertips toyed at the bronze medallion that hung about her neck now. Twenty points for Magnus.