Log:Onderon Tournie Round 5

Rotworms face off against the Mudsluggers

OOC Date: November 3, 2020
Location: Iziz, Onderon
Participants: Hadrix Kora, King, Mujiji, Kasia Ashkuri, Zhu Yan, Sajin, Ora, Tarq Najjic, Tamsin Cas, Kirioth Kora, Sumi Kora, Clan Kora

<"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELCOME TO THE FIFTH MATCH OF ONDERON'S GREAT ARENA BATTLES! TONIGHT, OUR MATCH CONSISTS OF THE DIRTY, ANGRY MUDSLUGGERS VERSUS THE MURDEROUS ROT-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORMS!"> The crowd's volume is absolutely overwhelming. A stadium full of aliens scream in unison, and percussive fireworks pop off. Stomping and clapping are all around and the noise hurts the ears.

Vendors wander the stands with fresh ale and meat-on-sticks, selling at a WHOPPING 10 credits per stick and 15c a beer. UGH!

A giant holo screen suspended above the arena's shield dome is flashing commercials from the fight's sponsors. Flashing lights angle down toward the sand, and music kicks up prompting people to stomp clap stomp with anticipation.

Inside the ready rooms, an iron gate separates the participants of tonight's fight from the arena. Sounds from the crowds filter in, barely muffled, making it difficult to hear. Sumi Kora is among those in the Rotworms team. She wears a gladiator suit of armor, leather with metal-tipped skirt and tall strapped sandals with shin-guards. Her weapon of choice is a Z6 riot baton that's shaped as a mace and pulsing with blue arcs of electricity. The weapon's hum, albeit angry, is dominated by the sound of the crowd but its presence in the room casts the others in an electric glow that pulses.

"Our time has arrived. Ready your weapons, warriors!" Sumi calls out, her helmet's T-visor is primitive like her gladiator armor, it lacks the amenities of her beskar'gam, and her face can be seen as a result.

Outside, the King and the Princess of Onderon appear in their suite. Fresh meal and wine provided, the pair seem eager to see the tournament begin.

"You know, it occurs to me, that I might have failed to get all of the information that was needed before I agreed to do this." Tamsin Cas, dressed in her casual field doctor gear, made her way into what was, now, an arena for the night's competition, a hand resting on her bag, so that she did not knock anyone about the head and shoulders as she made her way towards the seat she had been pointed to. "Is the team the Mudsluggers..or the Rotworms?" These were the things a woman needed to know. Oh, there was her seat. "Pardon, excuse me...so sorry.." as she scooted into the seat, tucking her bag into her lap.

Here we go again. Dressed in dark tinted durasteel plates held together by toughened leather. Armor skirt, strapped on arm and leg guards - and of course his helmet with close cheek guards creating the T effect like his normal helmet visor. Today he had a little treat for himself, low capacity for munition. High octane fun. For those interested in napalm, and napalm accessories.

D-93 held low and swung to the side as he strode forth at Sumi's flank, Hadrix nodded toward his alor before his head lifted to take in the crowd, "I think we're getting popular, Sumi." rough chuckle in the big man's voice as he lifts flamer in hand and lets off a brief gout for the onlookers before his attention is back to the gates where tonight's challenge will be entering from.

"Wait till you see Sajin."

"Ready as they'll ever be," King offers to Sumi, lifting a hand to offer the fellow Morellian a tip of his hat before said hand drops down to his holsters to grab ahold of the Enforcers there-in. Both are produced and he stands there, willing, able, and spinning his revolvers around somethin' fierce.

Dressed like he was on their organ harvesting excursion, King's foregone his duster and is wearing his CNG trooper chest piece and boots over his usual 'riding clothes'. "Any word on what we're fightin?" he asks, looking around at the assembled killers. "Like...is it somethin' real big?"

The Alabaster armored Mandalorian known as Roth is not fighting tonight. She is standing with her arms folded and looking out over the place where he clanmates and others are about to kick major amounts of butt. There's dried blood on her armor, but she'd clean it off later. There is a whistle when the Rotworms are announced, <<LETS GO ROTWORMS!>> the vocoded voice calls out over the din of other voices. She doubted that she'd be heard, but, she was here for the support...and to watch someone get wrecked.

Why is Mujiji here? How is Mujiji alive? Is Mujiji... Competing? Yes. Yes she is. The tiny logomorph, despite her crippling defeat (and trampling) at the claws of a rancor, has apparently not had enough punishment for one lifetime.

She's here.

"Hoi, let me up." This is directed at Hadrix - he tends to be the best vantage point, and Jiji feels that she is less likely to be re-trampled this way.

Kasia is here to fight! Why? Who knows. Probably she's been hanging out with Hex for too long, and now she's got the bloodlust too. She's decked out in her Smasher armor, a blaster already in hand that she handles carefully. "I haven't heard anything, but I haven't been listening for it," she admits with a glance over to King.

Aw yis aw yis aw yis it was fite time! Zhu Yan was loaded for Grom. Again. He had on that same set of power armour from his last gladiatorial soiree, decorated like some creature of bone and too-many teeth (thanks Rheisa) and slightly melted face (thanks Hadrix). Rocket jets along the legs, arms, and feet sputtered to life with small blue flames, going through a cyclic initialization routine. Maybe stand back a lil. "Honestly, with a name like Mudsluggers?" he was rambling unprompted at his erstwhile comrade King, "Probably means they're going to be throwing sithspit at us." It was exactly like Yan to underestimate his opponents, or overestimate himself, and judging from the sheer cockiness in his buzzy voice he was doing both.

In his arms was a gun. It was a big gun. Very big. What had started life as a BlasTech A280 was now some sort of bulky mishmash between that and the sniper model A300, with the big sight and the even bigger heat-stained barrel. Yan was checking it over, inspecting the power pack, flooding the chamber with pure melty energy, checking the sights had been zeeroh'd, etc. It was not his Bryar. Not to fret, said Bryar was strapped to his right leg.

"So, who's the best looking in combat gear?" he asked idly, done with his preflight checks and resting the big weapon in his arms. "I vote for myself."

Sajin Kovo Kah - Verrni, King of Drik, the Raging Hapan, Beastmode Janitor, and Stupid Sexy, did not look overly happy with the outfit Hadrix had decided they would wear. His lips set into a firm displeased line, hazel eyes staring ahead with only the glare of the ready room lights reflected in them.

Today, the unnaturally handsome, stunningly beautiful hunk of man meat was bare chested, showing off that peak human physique, sculpted and bread for nothing but fighting and kriffing for the Hapan Matriarchs. Dreamy eyes, pretty pouty and full lips, angular features. Tall, dark, and handsome. THat stubble really worked for him. Shoulder pads and shin pads that were very much like the other sets of Mandalorian Gladiator armor that had been seen worn in the past, worn by both Hadrix and Sumi on this day. All his high tech trinkets lost for the time being. Just him... his big black ryyk blade, and a pair of shock gloves ready to spring to life wrapped around his hands.

He hefted up the Ryyk blade, letting the sharp edge fall to the ground as he held the blade lax beside him. A side glance was given to the others as his free hand hefted on that primitive T-visor helmet. "If you don't kill me, I'm gunna have ta kill you." Said in a low but husky voice. Even that ws attractive about him.

Ora looks nervous. Every single motion of her body, the way she sways back on her heels to her toes, the slight slope to her shoulders and the way gloved hands grip the hilt of her sword. Every nerve in her body shakes and a furtive glance is given Kings way as they are held within those waiting rooms, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathes out, "How I let you talk me into this .."

Helmet tilts back to look out to the gates, lips pressing and mashing together beneath her helmet as multi-colored eyes convey the fear that has swollen within her gut. How. Did. She. let. Him. Talk. Her. Into. This. Dressed in her scout armor, helmet fixed on, slugthrower at her hip in the event she loses her nerve with the sword, "What we're fighting? Oh. Yay. I ..love the unknown." In response to Kings question to Sumi, an unstready breath following.

"Oh, Tamsin," Tarq says, clicking his tongue as he follows her down the steps. On the theory that classy clothing is classy because of how inconvenient it is to the wearer, the slim Kuati man is class itself: he has a black veil and his scarlet dress has a lacy black and red train, which he has to hold up himself given his lack of servants. There must be heels underneath there somewhere, from all the clicking - oh, there, from the side they're visible because of the slits up to his hips. At least they're platforms. "Whoever you patch is /fine/," he soothes. "If you have to put pieces back together, your choice was good, yes? You will please."

Getting along the aisle to the seat is an endeavor involving many people getting a face-full of fabric, but eventually he is sitting next to Tamsin, with the rest of his dress in another seat next to him. "Tarq Najjic hopes they need you, very very much," he says in a lower voice, staring out at the gates yet to open. "Is that-" Tarq points at the gate across from them. "Is that a /flamethrower/?" His eyes are wide and his jaw has dropped. "I take back what I said about Onderon on the ride over." He pauses. "/Some/ of what I said about Onderon."

The gates begin to open, the rattling TINKTINKTINKTINK of the primitive chains as they're spooled upon the turnwheel. The booming voice of the announcer thunders over the crowd as they announce the match is to begin. The gate lowers and ahead of the Rotworms is a ramp that leads UP, and upon cresting it they enter a massive... MASSIVE arena surrounded by all sides with people. Distracting flashes of holo-camera lights get all the best angles of the Rotworms.

To Yan's question, Sumi answers with a loud charging "MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE," chugging up the ramp and onto the sand her weapon raised high above her head. Tactics? Think not! IT'S GOING TO BE A BLOODY FIGHT!

The answers to the questions asked about who, or more to the point WHAT they are fighting is answered when the Mudsluggers emerge from the other side. 8 foot tall female Trandoshan wrestlers wearing spiked armor release a sibilant sound as the ground beneath them buckles and draws close to the Rotworms. AN OPPONENT THAT BURROWS BENEATH THE GROUND?! AHHH!

15 Trandoshans charge eager to rip their opponents limb for limb, and the K'lor'slugs rumored to be a part of their WAR PARTY?! BURST FROM THE GROUND IN AN EXPLOSIVE MANNER THAT CASTS DIRT AND SAND EVERYWHERE! Five foot tall, covered in toothy looking spikes and literally nightmare fuel to Xenophobes, this speciman of death hocks up hardened resin spikes and burny acid snot. Numbering at 20, the K'lor'slugs start HOCKIN'!

"Well, yes, I also hope that they need me. These supplies won't use themselves. And it is a useful thing to be seen as a useful thing." Tucking her bag away, Tamsin turned to take in the picture Tarq presented, her lips pursing into a 'tsk' sort of expression, before she leaned ocver and across him, one hand holding her up so that she was not actually risking lying on him, the other hand reaching out to twitch the skirts he had spread out on the seat beside him. The spectacle must be preserved. And it was much too fine of a garment not to be laid out to best effect. Once the fabric was laid just so, she pushed herself back up and into her seat. "That...does indeed appear to be a flamethrower." She frowned, before she looked around, trying to see what concessions were on offer. Popcorn, perhaps? "Although, from the looks of those things...we may not be far enough back in the stands."

Leaning to simply pick up Moo and deposit her on his shoulder, shifting his weight to allow her better balance, "Never need to ask, just hop on up, Moo." tone affectionate for all of its rattle of gravel in a barrel that is his voice. Head lolling to one side to catch sight of Sajin before his half-bionic gaze is to Zhu,

Anything about to be said is gone with Sumi charging pell-mell up into the arena. "Well... Time to go to work." leaning into his stride, using his height and length of gate to try to keep up with the smaller mandalorian. But run he does, catching sight of spikey lizard ladies laying listlessly longing for the kill.

So he does what comes naturally to him and sets people coming to punch him on fire.

"You just followed me here, Ora," King answers the young lady, offering her a smirk as his gun twirls cease and he exhales a sharp jet of breath. Heavy, spurred boots begin to clink and clank as he makes his way up the ramp as well, his Enforcers held at the ready.

Boots reaching the sand, King twirls one gun and levels it at the wrassler that Hadrix set ablaze before he pulls the trigger. WHIPCRACK. It goes wide! The hammer is fanned thricely in quick succession and all of those go wide, but they probably scared somebody!

"It's about t'get real slimy." Mujiji warns, a hand slipping into her bandolier and withdrawing a frag grenade and throwing it with all her might (which, granted, is not much). It bounces off the slug and explodes closer to a wall, instead. Painfully, horribly harmless. "Ah, kriff." It'll get slimy... Eventually.

Roth gives a look to others as they pass, but, the tall woman stays quiet as she watches her clanmates. When Hadrix fires up the flamethrower there's a bit of a head shake, "Always with the burning, Had." she mutters to herself with a chuckle. "It's a good way to get a bunch of them scared though. And dead." she nods to this as she speaks to herself.

It's bad enough seeing those large Trandoshan ladies bedecked in spikes, but the moving ground that ends with slugs? That's worse. Kasia recoils slightly and makes a face behind the faceplate of her armor. The surprise of their opponents passes quickly as the fight starts to run right at them. "Hex is going to be sad he missed this." It's a general statement to anyone nearby, and as it's said she lifts her blaster, pausing to consider what she's doing. There's an exhale, and then she fires, the first shoot landing, while the other two miss completely.

Y'know, Yan couldn't argue Sumi's declaration. Well, he could, actually, and very loudly. But that would get him in serious trouble a la significant other. Not a great place to be.

This rare and possibly dangerous moment of introspection is perhaps the reason that Yan was mildly delayed in launching out of the gate. "Eeeeeeeeeh," was his eloquent display of awkwardness as the jets on his suit suddenly picked up in hue and volume. Right. He put one foot in front of the other. Then repeated the process with his other foot. With rocket propulsion, it didn't take long to pick up speed, and with a mighty JUMP, the jets reached full screaming pitch, made an obnoxious SHPHUUUURRRRRT noise, and propelled Zhu Yan out the gate and twenty feet off the deck. Midair, he brought up the Bastard A280 and aimed it at the ugliest looking lizard-woman he could see. "Take this, you literal gargoyle!" he screamed.

WHUMPH.

A small patch of dirt next to the Trandoshan exploded. Whoops. "I mean, later!" he added, and then turned his thoughts to a concept most dangerous. Namely, landing.

Sajin always enjoyed Sumi's outlook, and the excitment that battle brought her. It put him in a proper head space. As he rose into the arena, exponentially gaining momentum as he swings his blade around to loosen up his otherwise rippling muscles. A whipping sound is heard as the sharp edge cuts through Onderon's atmophere.

He speeds up as he notices the Trandoshans. Mortal Enemies to a Wookiee. He was friends to the Wookiees on Kashyyyk, having once invested in a few shops there along with doing a few dangerous jobs in the dense and tall forests. A fuel was lite under the Hapan. He carved hard into one, the nearest wrestler to him. The wookiee blade split deep into scale and hide before withdrawing. He swung again, the tip of the blade just barely missing the Trandoshan's throat.

His chest heaved and his hazel eyes glared as he stalked his oponant.

"Mmmmm." Being very close is the downside of accompanying someone who is going to be healing the gladiators after the match, but Tarq doesn't look concerned. "Look!" He points at Mujiji. "Another small, feisty alien. Like at the Rancor Run." Tamsin was not there, but he pays no mind. "Oh, look at it!" he says, almost squeeing. "It has its armor, and..." He watches at Mujiji chucks a grenade. It goes wide, lands in front of Tamsin and Tarq's section of wall, and he lowers his head before the blast goes off just inside the ring. "We /are/ too close." His voice is silky smooth and the smile on his face is wide. He evidently likes that.

Ora has no best angles. She's a beautiful tater tot, potato at best. She lags behind at first, not at all riled up by the beautiful call from Sumi that should normally rile folks up to also charge forwards. A deep breath in, Kings answer offering nothing to her, so she offers him a, "Dude ...I live on the ship ..you told me this was a cool party." Though, apparently this is his idea of a party, "Oh my god ..." Chin tucks to chest as she watches King go off and the other bodies of her new and unknown compartriots go off, "Okay, don't embarass yourself, Ora ..just ..swing and fling." Nodding to herself and building up nonexistant confidence she'll toddle forwards, repeating 'oh my god' all the way up the ramp into the arena, in time to see bloody mother effing slugs and Trandoshan, "Ho-lee ...noooo." Her chin tilts up as her head snaps back in time to see Zhu Yan go up, mouth dropping open beneath her helmet, "Oh ..."

A broader glance around, a few slugs BURSTING from the ground at her feet which causes a brief recoil of her left foot and a 'GYAH' from the young lady, grip tightening on her sword as she flails it down at the gooey slugs, their inner goo-flying all over her armor and helmet as she hack-chops her way through them, "WHY BUGS." Left foot stamps down a few times in front of her to gooey entrails, breath coming noisily through her nostrils, right picking up a few seconds later as she dances away to extricate herself from the bodies, "Nyeeeg." Dance, dance, away away.

The fight begins with FIIIIIIRE, and a Trandoshan warrior is caught by the wall of FLAMES. WOOOOOOSH!

Suddenly a loud, concussive explosion from a frag grenade goes off, BOOOOOOOOOOM, its concussive kinetic energy producing a tower of dirt and making the shield shimmer. Blasters and slugthrowers fire angrily as the warriors meet at the center to do battle. K'lor'slugs are HOCKING up resin spikes and SPITTIN' em at people while the Trandoshan WRESTLERS TRANDO--PAWNCH at their opponents eager to spill blood and cause pain.

"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" One Trando says to the Mando Sumi who swings her baton about wildly. "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Replies Sumi, SWINGSWINGSWING, all of which result in HISSING MISSES.

<"ROTWORMS OFF TO A BAD START, THE MUDSLUGGERS HOLDING THE LEAD AND GROUND! OOOF! THAT'S GOTTA HURT!"> Hurt echoes off the walls of the arena as laughter from the violence follows.

It was reflex, as much as anything else, that caused Tamsin to turn away as she saw the grenade fly. Certainly, she would be just as injured of the grenade hit her from the back as from the front, but that was not the point. her face must be protected. Once she was relatively certain the blast had no intention of reaching them, she turned back, "Do you think we should have purchased one of the blast shields that hawker was selling outside the arena?" Well, they seemed to be alright for now. But that slug juice..."That is going to be a problem is things start getting slippery..." Ouch, "I believe we have a few early casualties."

Well it was all going gungan swamp-fruit shaped. What're those called? Something ridiculous sounding. Fundamundadoondafoom fruits? Gungan wording is complicated.

Fine.

Fundamundadoondafoom shaped. Why that comparison? They're actually really delicious, but they're ripe for all of about thirty seconds after days and DAYS of waiting and then they go mush... And somehow they corrupt the thoughts and bodies of the other fruit and destroy them too. DESTROY THEM. Gungan Swamp-Fruit. You're so delicious. But evil. Like any good spicy romance story.

Romancing the Fundamundadoondafoom.

And then there are Trandoshans and slugs coming at him, and Moo! "Hold on." still cool, calm, even when the first swing comes at him and Hadrix is bending over backwards like he's at a beach party. Letting himself fall to his shoulders and rolling to avoid an ax kick, coated in sand when he comes face to face with a giant slug that covers the face of his helmet with its mouth. Of all the things he never wanted to be inches from... Giant slug mouth insides.

"Stang." can anyone even hear that? Likely too muffled. But he does that thing that he does best, some call it brave, most stupid... He just shoves the nozzle of the flamer in and inches from his nose and opens fire - using the heat pressure to curl his beard and eyebrows and propel the nasty slug monster off of his helmet.

One of those mean Trandoshan wrasslers is very upset at King, and this is indicated by the fact that the Morellian is locked in a full nelson and hefted up, his booted feet flailing wildly in the air before he's reverse suplexed! YOU CAN'T DO THAT. THERE'S KIDS IN THERE.

King, now prostrate but free from the wrestlers hold, coughs and spits a bit of blood into the sand before he manages to push himself back up to his feet, tucking his guns away and wiping a little bit of crimson from his mouth. The metal knuckles of his gloves are clanked together and he grapples at the Trandoshan, but wait...what's this!? They've locked hands! It's a contest of strength! The Morellian being the smaller of the pair has his work cut out for him. King rears his head back and drives it into the wrestler's...chest before he follows it up with a textbook wound-up haymaker, likely sending some chunks of that lizard's jaw into its tiny reptile brown. IT'S A SLOBBERKNOCKER.

At least she is high up, at least in this madness, she is - THWACK! Mujiji is whacked like a wiffleball, right off the stick and soars a good ten feet before slamming into a wall and slowly, painfully, sliding down it. As soon as she has stood up, she is knocked aside by one of the slugs.

So, maybe this was a mistake.

"D'you want a /snack/?!" She shouts, coughing slightly as she bodily flings another frag grenade into the fray. Her little muzzle upturns, ever so slightly, at the concussive BOOM. If it's the last thing she does in this fight, she goes out with a bang. A slimy, goopey, bang.

The fight is getting up close and personal as one of those Trandoshan try to attack Kasia, one hit juuuuust barely glancing off of her shoulder. It doesn't hurt or do much more than scuff her armor. The slugs follow and she's able to evade those attempts easier, still looking less than trilled at being so close to slugs. You'd think with her dislike of the slugs, she might target them, but it's the Trandoshan that almost took a piece of her that she focuses on instead, once again firing off three shots with only one hitting.

"There /is/ a shield," Tarq says, waving a few fingers at the edge. "It lights up from impact." He flips his other hand dismissively. "Blast shield vendors were gougers, preying upon ignorance. We are fine. Best seats!" He glances towards the king and queen of Onderon when he says that, then puts his own nose up in the air slightly in noble mimicry as he watches the desperate battles for survival and dominance below. Yes, their seats are more comfortable, but can /they/ see the expression on a vengeful Kushiban's face as she lobs a grenade at the maw of a k'lor'slug up close? No, and that is why Tarq's seat is better.

It is often written in tomes of the before time that Physics, a mistress most fickle and foul-tempered, is a lady of negotiable affection. Indeed if one were to act fast enough whilst Her head was turneth away, acts of derring-do and panache most astounding would be achievable with nary a second thought. But beware Her gaze, for it is all seeing and quick to respond. Thus, unless one was Her favoured as in the case of the Force, a canny acrobat only had a moment.

Zhu Yan's feet hit the wall above the section of the audience where that male in the fetching dress and his rather concerned-looking compatriot laired. Shields are no good when someone flies /over/ them. There was a godawful popping noise as his knees compressed like springs to absorb the shock. In this instant, standing almost horizontally against the wall, he had the rifle up and promptly deafened the audience below with another loud WHUMPH of a report into the ground adjacent to the melee. At the same time, turbines screamed, jets protested, and Yan rocketed off back into skies unknown.

Physics was Physics, but Yan was her /pimp/.

Across the arena he streaked, flipping, turning, and this time skidding to a stop in an elevated section of the arena. It looked like a suite. Occupied by two rather finely dressed people. Oh. Oh right. Yan wasn't supposed to be up here. "Uh, hi!" he quipped. "Nice day for some murder, right?"

Despite how much more agile he was in he Gladiator Armor than his Formfitter, the lack of protection was probably not something he was happy with at the moment. Especially when being clobbered in the the torso by a big scaly lizard. "OOOFFF!" He proclaims, being launched onto his back, the wind clearly knocked out of him. THe pain wasn't apparent yet but he was probably going to need a durasteel rib-cage after this. The bones had been broken so many times they weren't going to heal properly. The 'human' body could only take so much, even if it did have all the good genes like Hapans tended to.

Sajin wasn't an easy quitter. His legs rose up and he jumped back onto his feet. Adrenaline surged through him. He let out a deep and loud warriors cry, rushing towards battle once more. His blade carved down at an angle, chopping clear through one of the Trandoshans. Blood splattered across his face. He spun then slashed violently through another, sending them to their end. his black blade dripped with the blood of his enemies, his skin shining across his scarred yet beautiful body.

DANGEROUSLY EDGED LEGS. Ora has only just managed to dance out of the way of one slug to get sliced by another, a nice cut along her right calf which opens up her suit, a strangled throaty cry bitten down because a loud FWOOM goes off. It's enough of a distraction that keeps her from falling into the line of that frag grenade, Ora instead getting hit by a flurry of slug-guts and flesh which halts her movement more than the injury itself.

Because it's a bloody wave, literally, her eyes closing as her helmets view is obscured which forces sword into her right hand so she can lift up the gloved left one to very slowly wipe down and snap her hand away to send a bit of goo off and about.

It does nothing to clear her vision, viscous goo clinging and providing a very not-helpful-hazy view of the world. So with a few snaps and a sway of her head she tugs off her helmet to toss it down beside her, helmet-hair given a dramatic toss as she winds up to attack more BLADED TOOTHED BUGS. Nostrils are flared, large Keshian multi-colored eyes narrowed angrily, "I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS." Called out in a feral sort of way, though it's not clear /what/ -this- is. SCHLERP. SCHEWP. Two more swings, aimed at dissecting the sluggos beneath their second set of frontal legs, which brings two more sluggos down though their mean bladed legs still kick and twitch, brains still figuring out that they should be dying.

The fight has shifted suddenly, punctuated by the decisive BOOOOOOOOOM of a grenade that sends green goo, dirt, and sand in all directions. The concussion from the frag grenade causes ears to ring, and releases a gust of kinetic energy that's STOPPED by the shimmering of the buffer shields protecting the crowd. Body parts and sluggy goo go everywhere, caking unsuspecting fighters but having no effect to their health, only on their style.

Yan's visit to the royal suite elicits a giggle from the young Princess who eagerly taps her dad, the King on the arm. Daddy was cutting his steak but looks up after pausing. "Look, daddy. The peasant wishes to speak with us! Is he not adorable? Oh, this is such fun!! GO ROTWORMS!" The father just grumbles and waves Yan off.

Down below amidst the chaos of melee and ranged combat, Sumi Kora craters and Trandoshan against the wall, their body bending the bulkhead to the shape of their impact where they just hang there, dazed and coursing with electricity that's disabled them completely. Sumi transitions to another target, swinging and MISSING! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" But the follow through is a nasty upper cut, the striking end of the serrated and electrically charged mace spilling a Trando to their back in a display of bone-cracking acrobatics. Her victory is short lived, for Sumi is struck right across the helmeted face. She spits blood to one side and is carried off her feet to land in a heap upon her tummy. "Uggggggh!" Spit, and rise back up. Sumi ANGRY!

The crowd is going absolutely wild, screaming, stomping, clapping, and CUSSING!

Tamsin, who clearly would have still liked a shield, offered, "You say that //now//, but when you get back and you have to pay the tailors to clean that dress, you might think differently." That's right, Tarq, she intended to get you where it hurt. In the dry cleaners bill. "What--" Tamsin's head snapped up as she caught the man rocketing around and bouncing off of the wall over their heads, "You know...I have never understood how one manage to wear a rocket attached to their back and not ended up with severe blistering on their backsides."

She wasn't one of them any more - but she once was Kora. Left the clan or not, she was still his vod as far as he was concerned - and all of the creatures coming at Mujiji concerned him greatly. Leaving the flaming slug behind to burn or put itself out, Hadrix was kicked into the air on twin jets of lambent flame. Gladiator armor or not, he was going to keep his pack strapped to him...

Dropping before the lagomorph to put himself between her and massive, swinging, arms that batter him into a double axe handle from behind. "Moo! Under me!" don't worry Moo. Just don't look up his armor-skirt. "Unless I start to fall over. Then you should move." The big man is laughing though, the pitch and perhaps with not too healthy a dose of mania added as he looks to one of those trying to assail the little adorable fuzzy wuzzikims of death. Cackling really as he presses the firing stud and sends one of them to the sand hissing and screeching when it is coated in burning napalm.

King's been tackled to the dirt! Oh no! The Trandoshan's got him pinned and is just wailing away at his rib cage. That's gott hurt! King has no recourse, but he tries to punch back, nonetheless. He can't get any hits to land.

She's still up, she's still kicking. Still... Throwing bombs in an enclosed space. It... Isn't going well... And then an attack is coming! The Trandoshan is going to destory her, flatten her against the dust... But he doesn't! Hadrix is there. "Yer my hero." She tells his skirt, trying to climb back onto his armor.

Kasia staggers back a bit at the BOOM, having not seen the grenade be lobbed the explosion is more than a little bit of a surprise. She's not blown up though, all her pieces are still in tact so it's fine. Everything is fine. She's quick to outmaneuver an attack aimed at her, perhaps not being the best at inflicting damage, she is at least pretty decent at avoiding it, even if she's a touch out of breath. Huff, puff. She once again levels her blaster on one of the Trandoshan and their spiky armor, narrowing her eyes before she squeezes the trigger. This time two shots hit home.

Right. Okay. Royal suite. Last time Yan was in one of these, it was Hapes, and a certain person who we won't mention but has a name rhyming with Mashia Cashmuri had him dragged out by a violent rampaging Houk. Good times. Yan's stance of heroism and glory was matched in its amazingness only by the agonizing pain in his knees. Pray he hadn't dislodged Dr. Cole's hard work. "Hey there kiddo! Would you like to talk about murders?"

Yan should not be allowed near children.

"Because there's a lot of them going on down there right now!" He was like the worst children's show host, sort of like a bloodstained Wiggle. "In fact, let me demonstrate!" And with that he turned, leaned over the edge of the booth, and WHUMPH. Another crater, another miss. "Aw FR... fornicate!" Children! "I'll be back! Eat your veggies, and if you want some holos of that Kuati boy band every girl likes, I can get them for you at cost!" And with an angry spurt of jets that presumably sent any nearby paper flying EVERYWHERE, Yan took to the skies once more.

Sajin takes a cracking hit to the left leg, causing him to go to the ground just as the frag grenades goes off. THat green goop gets /all/ over him. All over. He lets out a pained shout, dropping his blade into the dirt. rising slowly, spittle and drool slow dripping out of those still pretty lips. He clenches his fists, the black gloves suddenly sparking to life with a crackling blue and white electricity. He lets his fists talk, clobbering one right in the face and giving back enough of a hit to put them down. The Hapan staggers forwards, squaring off with yet another large Lizard, not looking any better. His stance hapazard, clearly favoring one leg.

Just. Intense burning pain. Claws dig in to the back of Ora's side, and it's a unique sensation she's never felt in her life. This is her exactly second real fight in her entire life, you see. Years of practicing with folks, honing a craft she only dreamed about using in the most childish of ways, holovids and performances in the park of combat lighting up her imagination and drive to one day be like those folks.

But they were all fake. And Ora was here now, and this, like her first fight, was very real. Only now it's she who bleeds. Did she scream out? It was impossible for her not to have done so, a throaty surprised shriek drowned out no doubt in the roars of the blood-thirsty crowds surrounding them, her injury for show, her injuries celebrated, calls for retaliation, for her to suck it up and FIGHT BACK here and there.

Another insult to injury first however, a slug taking the opportunity from the now-stopped in the middle of the arena, injury clutching Ora to bite into her leg, further digging into the first injury slagged against her. Knee buckles and she drops down hard, carefully transfering her sword into her left hand so she can slide hand across her belly to clutch at her seeping wound, tears streaming down her face in pained rivulets, clearing brown flesh of goo, breathing still coming hard from now clenched teeth. Assess. Breathe. Focus. Who has made her most upset. Splurt.

Fingertips dig into her wound as she grimaces, left hand shakily lifting up her sword to try and stab at the slug first -- nope, it digs into the ground instead with a skrrt of sound ..then a second stab which ends in her leaning forwards to use the sword as a stand to keep her upright. She's okay, she's okay. Another spurt of blood from her side, deep red well swelling around her injured kneeling knee, breath coming in a more staggered way. Just ..survive to the end of this. Okay.

Roth is one of those people who is quiet, but, when Mujiji gets blasted and Ora looks like they are getting pummeled the Mandalorian unfolds her arms. Her hands move to grip the handle of her beskad and vibro swords that are strapped to her hips. "Let us hope this doesn't go south any further." she mutters to herself. She was sure if she jumped over the side to skewer someone that she'd get them disqualified.

The fight is winding down, and the Rotworms are having more influence over the outcome of the fight. The stands have begun to chant Rot---Worms over and over, and the stomping and clapping is in time. The violence is further accentuated by another loud BLAST of a grenade; a tower of dust and smoke rise up and drift, much like the others have, and the shields shimmer from the kinetic energy. It's the last stretch it seems, with fewer slugs (which are still HOCKIN' and SPITTIN') and even fewer Trandoshan wrestlers.

When Sumi dispatches and stuns two wrestlers, she's caught off guard by a resin spike that catches her shoulder. The impact is so hard it make a THUNK sound with momentum enough it carried her back off her feet to land on the small pile of Trandos she'd knocked out. Sumi coughs up blood and rolls to her side favoring the new wound and clearly in a lot of pain. She stumbles up to her feet, wincing and brings the weapon she has to a single handed guard. NOW it occurs to her that maybe... MAYBE she ought to fight defensively. She's lost her helmet, so wild helmet hair Sumi circles new targets!

The fight seems to consist of one injured Trando, with 5 Healthy, and 8 remaining slugs.

The Princess calls after Yan. "BE CAREFUL PLEASE!"

Standing protectively over Mujiji like some incendiary turret, Hadrix drops to a knee... after a half step forward so that he doesn't pull a candle-snuffer over Moo, plunging her into the spooky depths of ring-mail and chain armor about his thighs. "Get on, and stick close."

• PWANG!* one massive stump fingered hand twists the big man's head to the side and drops him down to the ground while the next puts a foot on the back of the big man's neck. Down? For good?

But wait! He isn't dead! HADRIX SURPRISE!!! Incinerator in hand and death in his eyes! Arena flamer fight with Hadrix Kora! Normal Atunda night for Hadrix Kora!

It's all very dramatic in his own head, adrenaline and dopamine surging in equal measure for a man conditioned to feel a mixture of calm and elation at the very notion of combat, rising up slow enough to let Moo her chance to mount up once more as the flame thrower's nozzle roars with the crackle of fresh flames.

"STANG! I thought it was going to be a boring day today, Moo!" Burn trando burn!

Still pinned under the Trandoshan, King's at least managing to keep his guard up this time, his gauntlets deflecting those nasty claws at have been sailing his way. However, he can't get any attacks out, and now Ora's getting all chewed up. Maybe dedicating his entire life to unwieldy and inaccurate primitive weapons was a mis-step. Who knows? "Yan! Get Ora!"

Tarq Najjic's eyes narrow at Tamsin's invocation of dry cleaners' bills, then he closes them imperiously. "The price of greatness - is worth paying." As it is being paid right now, by the Rotworms below, who have too many holes and are bleeding too much. They need that blood in order to live! "You will make many friends this day," he tells Tamsin. "Their victory? Pyrrhic. But their will? Indomitable." He starts looking around the edge of the arena. "Most of those trandoshans needed you five minutes ago. Rot- Worms! Rot - Worms!" He joins the chant, moving his right fist to the beat of the crowd.

Is Yan flirting with the king? Mujiji is likely reading that situation wrong, but she wrinkles her nose nonetheless. She can see the battlefield much better from up here! She plucks another frag grenade free from her belt, and waits for her moment... THERE! As a group of Trandoshan's clump together, she lets loose. "Thanks for th'lift!"

Boom. 

Kasia's main targets this fight have been the trandoshans, so why stop now. She spots the last one on King, takes careful aim at it, and then fires. Hoping quietly that she doesn't accidentally murder King in the process. That would probably be a bad look for the team. Or possibly make them even more popular? It's hard to tell with blood sports. Thankfully there's no need to find out, because this time the two shots she fires don't miss. "You still alive under there?" she calls to King.

"Never!" quipped Yan cheerfully at his new Number #1 Fan as he flew with all the graceful aerodynamics of a hawk-bat tied to a thrown brick. With the Mudrunners or whatever they're called throwing their feces everywhere like untrained lizards and whatever these infernal slug things were... actually what were they? Questions for later!

Speaking of later, one of said slug-tooth-things burst into pieces as Yan, hanging from one of the pillars in the arena, fired his rifle one-handed at the big gaping toothy mouthed bit. It looked like a mouth. "What the FRACK are those things? They're all teeth and spit and needles and teeth and bones and flesh and worm and pain!" Now that he was getting a good look, they just got worse and worse. "Seriously they look like a rock serpent and a krayt dragon got together, reproduced, and now we're dealing with the end result!" His simile was getting off track here, but Yan never let butchering the Basic language stop him from making a point. "Who BREEDS these things?!"

Sajin raised his hand to protect his face as the last Trandoshan fell before Kasia's fire and the grenade exploded a quartet of them into a nice chaotic storm of limbs and guts. A crispy piece of Trando meat, cooked thoroughly from the explosion lands on his face. hit causes him to jitter a bit and blink.

There was another matter... those damn burrowing slugs he'd been avoiding all day now had the Ire of The King Of Drik...

"Get over here you little!" Sajin dived towards burrowing slug just as it slipped neneath the ground. another popped up beside him and he reached for that one too. It slipped back down into it's hole, evading the grasp of the bruised and bloody hapan. "Damnit!" He was getting frustrated now.

A sudden force that knocks the literal breath out of Ora has her rocking forwards, sword already dug into the ground which keeps her upright for the most part. She doesn't see her attacker, but it's the same jerk Trandoshan who took a swipe at her the first time, seeing her prey down and taking the opportunity to finish the job. Claws had raked along her back, digging hard and deep into muscle, rib and soft tissue of lung hidden beneath.

This is how the bad guys in those holomovies must feel. On the edge of death, still holding on despite the odds being against them. It was so real now. Crying without realizing she's crying she sucks in air that doesn't quite wish to go into her lungs, more and more blood pooling, frothy red-pink burbling out from her back between claw marks and armor fabric. All around her the crowd roars and the sounds of fighting feter into her ears, jagged hair slick in against her cheeks and forehead, delirious flicker of her gaze shifting from right to left, slanting upwards to eye the bright lights and the voices behind them in the stands, the glare so damned bright.

SPLATTER. TRANDO GUTS. As they rain down around and upon her it somehow becomes just the most beautiful thing. Like a special storm just for her.

With a dreamy tear-stained smile she rocks back and brings her sword up to slice in through the air to take down a slug bearing down on her, everything in slow motion, shock well settled into her but giving her that brief moment of focus to just ...slice and dice. SLICE.

A second one as she drags her sword out to the left, young woman dropping onto her side then and rolling into her back as filaments of parts still powder the air to gently sprinkle atop her as she gazes up into the green-blue haze, soft guts of her kills cushioning her gently even as one pointy bladed leg of the slugs digs uncomfortably into her ribs. Sword gets hugged up to her chest in waiting ...if they come to finish her, she'll get in a last stab to take them both into the afterlife. Laughter from somewhere rocks her body, soft and insane, skin spackled and speckled merrily as she dies.

So damned beautiful.

"Well, yes, I would imagine the Trandoshans could use a serviceable doctor, but I was not brought in to tend to them. And while I would like to help as many as I can, I had my priorities set before I landed on the planet." yes, she did sound entirely serious. Nevermind the crinkling of humour around her eyes as Tarq tried to downplay the potential threat to his finery. "I should see about purchasing refreshments." Because she was a doctor who clearly believed in holistic medicine.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

Another decisive grenade blows apart a group of UNLUCKY Trandoshan warriors. The blast is so violent and sudden the crowd is shocked by the sudden shift of numbers still fighting on the ground. The shields shimmer again, the ground rattling from the explosion. Cheering picks up, everyone is shouting 'MOOOOOOOOOOOOO-JI-JI..MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-JI-JI!'

Sumi swings, crying out. MISS. MISS. AND FINALLY! "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" CRUSHED, and goo fans out from the electric impact. Sumi gets covered in green goo and she laughs. "YES! KILL EM ALL! AHH!" She charges the slugs. So much for defense!

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHH-tik-tik-tik-tiktik-sss.

That was always the main field complaint back in the day. Kriffin' flamers had a shallow tank and there wasn't usually time to roll behind cover to punch in a fresh one. But that's little matter to a beserker like Clan Kora's Plan Besh. Letting his flamer hang by its strap the big man starts in. Resin needles, spikes and slime being aimed at others giving Hadrix an opportunity, and Moo a wonderful joyride.

A sudden charge forward into a drop knee to sink a spike into the side of one of the aptly described, by Yan, monsters to pin it down before a wampa-fist with metaled fingers and punch plate begins slamming down - spraying goo from it's mouth over anyone in the splash zone.

"Thanks to you," King says, shoving the dead Trandoshan off of himself so he can stand up slowly and press a hand to what are surely broken ribs. His poor nanos are gonna be mad at him for a few days. He leans down with a pained grunt and plucks up his hat so he can place it back on his head and offer Kasia a well-deserved tip of it.

He breathes a loud groan and begins his slow limp-run towards the slugs, ready to put this whole ordeal to bed. One of the gross, slimey K'lor'slugs is slapped around a bit before King hefts the thing up above his head and turns to face another one. "I don't like you, pard! You're nasty!" he shouts at it, rearing back one good time before he starts to beat the second slug to death with the first.

Her ride is a violent one, and Mujiji finds herself jerked one way and another. Is Hadrix just /punching/ these things now?! The Kushiban chances a peek and finds that that is exactly what he is doing.

Right.

Yanking her last frag grenade free, and calming her stomach, the kushiban struggles to line up a shot; she just isn't still long enough! And that's when she sees it creeping and sliming up on them, ready to attack Hadrix and her from the side! Moo absolutely fumbles her grenade in her haste to loose it at the approaching mollusk, and it bounces from one hand, to the other, and back again - and it falls.

Into the mouth of the slug.

"Oh we gotta /move/!" Mujiji warns, and a moment later, the slug explodes.

Tarq Najjic pauses, hearing the name being chanted by the crowd. "Mujiji?" That was the same /name/ as at the Rancor Run, too. He rises to his feet, staring out at the Rotworms' seizing victory, with eyes only for the Kushiban riding the gladiator who had the flamethrower chucking grenades with wild abandon. He smooths his skirts over his hips as he watches the tiny creature throw yet another grenade straight down the gullet of a monstrous worm.

The same person went straight from being trampled by a rancor in an idiotic contest to standing against opponents that could devour her right from under the ground, who could squeeze her life out with the ease of breaking an overripe melon in their bare hands? It's ludicrous, showing utter disregard for her own life and a magnetic draw to the overdramatic. Tarq is still staring. It doesn't matter their differences:

"Tarq Najjic thinks he is in love."

"Well, Tarq, she seems to be pretty friendly with that big one there," that would be Hadrix. "I think...that if you want to stand any chance at all," because doctors also offered advice as well as bandages and bacta, "That you should probably go over there and introduce yourself while you still have an open window of opportunity." With the fight now seemingly over, Tamsin retrieved her bag, settling it back across her front. "Now the fun begins."

Roth releases a breath when things seem to be coming to the end. There's a look over the participants and there's a moment her hands leave the pommels of the swords to clap loudly, "GOOD SHOW ROTWORMS!" the Alabaster Banshee shouts. After that she is looking a bit closer at her Kora clanmates, seeing if Sumi or Hadrix need to be tended to quickly by medics.

Kasia inclines her head to King in return, lacking a hat to tip back. She draws back a few steps as slugs come in for another attack, thankfully being missed by it. She has her blaster in hand ready to fire, but the last few are taken out and she lowers it with a sigh. "That's it, yes?" She's pretty sure, but you never know if there's some other worm lurking in the ground waiting for its moment to strike. Said ground is eyed warily.

And with Zhu Yan's appropriate assistance jetting around the arena like the showboater he is and killing that one slug monster teeth thing, the battle was over. And Zhu Yan was the hero! Behold! The jets spurted, he lifted from the pillar, and hit the ground far gentler than that time he accordion'd himself against the wall. There were bodies EVERYWHERE. It SMELLED. "Oh god I might throw up." Weak stomach? Now? Oh the slugs. Right. Yes. Human not so bad.

Sajin is still trying to work those slug holes, his hands dipping inside. Little does the dumb pretty warrior know that the others have all but killed them all. Though, what doesn't stop the last exploding one from rocketing it's many guts and goo through the slug holes and right into the King's face. He's thrown back by the force and lays on his back. bit of slug go are in his mouth, his helmet only partially shielding him.

Sajin sits up with a groan, looking around the battlefield with wiry hazel eyes. They'd won. again. "Yeah... I'm wearing /my/ armor next time..." He noted to himself, the pain from his ribs and leg finally starting to ease its way in after the excitment had passed. He groans, hand going to his torso. Medic? Pls... pls…

Ora lays there happily dying in the spray of carnage around her. So pretty.

Gotta move indeed. Hadrix is still laughing when he engages his jets - awkwardly and cooking his mighty BATTLE SANDALS as he lifts off from a kneeling position. Reaching up with one hand to secure Moo as they make their way into the sky and hover when the the sudden, violent, gastro-intestinal episode takes the slug and makes it into a fried onion blossom.

But extremely gross.

"This is why I miss you, every day, you beautiful little pirate." giving Mujiji an affectionate little squeeze. Because he can hug her with his hand. She blows stuff up. She's adorable. SHE IS HAND-HUGGABLE. Who -wouldn't- love Mujiji? Shavit-sucking Rekk heads who don't know stang about kriff. That's who. Frak those shabuir! Those frelling, raunchy, poodoo smelling reprobates! They're repugnant! They're less than sentient.

Look he likes Moo, she's one of his favorites. Let the man have it.

And so they soar like graceful murder-birds above the carnage, lacking only a song full of stings and whimsy to frame their majesty. Gazing upon their kingdom of mayhem. They could be heroes. Moo... Moo will be queen. And Hadrix, he will be king.

<"THE ROTWORMS WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!">

Fireworks sound, but somehow seem less imposing or as loud as the grenades that have gone off all match. The fans are crazy, confetti is falling over the stands, and everyone is losing their minds. Another win for the Rotworms, now they move to Tier VI, nearly to Tier X and boy did they earn this win. A lot of injured folk out there!

Sumi yanks out the resin spike and casts it onto the ground. The pain is so intense and overwhelming she sees spots in her vision and stumbles. A hand comes up to cradle the wound, blood seeping through. Her stop, before returning to the ready room beneath, was to grab her helmet. Her heart raced with all the cheering. She couldn't stop smiling.