Living High

[Raven]

The roar of the surrounding crowd pulsed through the man's veins, fueling him as he jeered them on, coercing them for moral. He was a big, brute of a human, and barked like the loudest Kath Hound Zekkir had ever heard. The smaller echani was becoming truly annoyed, yet he hid the displeasure by merely closing his eyes. This man was no warrior. From the speculations of the last battle, the Echani had concluded that this man had become a disgrace to the title of champion.

"How could you stoop so low?" Zekkir didn't even open his eyes as he heard the voice, through each ear, or maybe it was neither he heard from? It didn't matter, he had heard this same, arrogant voice so many times that he had stopped trying to deduce whether it was real or not. "Don't ignore me.." The voice faded as Zekkir opened his eyes, suddenly becoming conscious of the crowd. The voice was being drowned out. Zekkir lifted his head, his crimson eyes staring up into the matching sky of rattatak. This planet was so ugly...

Looking back down at his opponent, he moved a hand down to his belt, unclipping it lightly as he held it out to the side. He dropped it, as his swords all clumped onto the ground neatly. Removing the daggers from either ankle, he placed them on top. Such was Echani tradition: He would not use the weapons until he was forced to.

But the man just laughed, and slid a repulsive thumb across the front of his neck while pointing at the Echani. Zekkir smirked as the gap between them began to close.

 

[Raven]

The brute's ears became unconscious of the crowd as a single set of bells reigned dominant in his mind. The small white-haired man was fast, as his feet pressed against the dirt floor, each silent thud propelling him further and further, faster and faster. But then... he was gone.

Perplexed, the man stopped, looking around as a slight sound caught his attention. He looked up to see a flying heal land squarely on his nose. His vision became red as his hands flew up to the throbbing bulk on his nose, only to slip and slide across the now steady stream of crimson blood, smearing it across his face poorly. He didn't even notice himself stumble onto his back with a thud. Zekkir landed silently a few feet away, that ever-so bored look on his face.

"This is pointless Zekkir, where will defeating this clown get you?"

"Just stop talking," was his only reply, a slight tinge of annoyance revealing itself in his nearly whispering voice. He watched the man get back up slowly, whiping his own blood out of his eyes. With a roar he set his sights back on the Echani, and broke into a heavy set run towards the smaller contestant. "You should've just given up," He said aloud, slightly annoyed when he realized his voice would never be heard over the crowd.

With that, he took a single step towards the man, and with a spin, he ducked under the flailing arm as the brute stopped to turn. By this time it was too late, as Zekkir's fair, elegant, yet strong hands struck out towards the bigger man's body with the speed and accuracy of a master of martial arts. In a 5 second time frame, he had struck fifty times, critically injuring the weakest parts of the average humanoid body, including between his ribs, where his shoulder and arm connected, and just as many places below the ribcage. The man's excrutiating pain would likely leave him without the ability to move properly, if at all. He didn't even want to push air out of his body in order to cry his agony. He simply fell backwards with a bone crushing thud.

Zekkir stood straight up, and ran a hand across his hair, pulling it back, out of his eyesight. With a bow, he turned to the exit, the crowd's momentary silence being replaced by 'boos' of various languages.