WAL Invitational, Round 1: Queen of the Castle - Clara Mass vs Ziccarra Liafador

Interview, Part 1

"There's a certain mystique to the presence of tonight's guest. Unlike her competitors, her poise has remained quite statuesque. She's a woman crafted for the stage, meticulously made for the silver screen, and she's here to talk to yours' truly. Please welcome, Clarice Michelle Pierce!"

"The Mistress of Mayhem!"Roaring chants bellowed out and crashed against the eardrums of Miss Pierce. Their unwelcome gestures were met with indifference as the unfettered guest adjusted her suit jacket. A veteran of the spotlight, Miss Pierce didn't allow herself to partake in the madness at play. At least...not entirely.

She's never been one to put her emotions on display, but never quite the one to let disrespect overstay its welcome. And as much as she's found herself wanting to set this place on fire, the ability to do so feels almost impossible. However, this doesn't prevent Miss Pierce from looking at her captor and imagining his death with the most convincing smile on her face.

"I'm so happy to be here and share this moment with each and every one of you!" Miss Pierce waved to the crowd like a proven media darling before returning her attention to the alien madman whom stripped her from the magnificent views of Nation X.

"Now, now, now. Miss Pierce, we're all well aware of your stage presence. You're a beautiful woman. Isn't she a beautiful woman!?" Part of the crowd cheered in solidarity whilst the other half jeered. Each and every one of them vying for the chance to show their handmade posters of their favorite female competitors in front of the live streaming cameras.

"What we really want to know and I don't mean this offensively," He paused for this melodramatic sense of suspense not uncommon for an episode of Ru Paul's Drag Race before continuing.

"Is there substance to your style???"

The Battle Begins...

As much as she prefers the concept of escaping the confounds of captivity, Miss Pierce's thoughts have yet to come to an understanding that escape is plausible from the Executive's game. So much so, that when she materializes onto this foreign world, the mere idea of putting on a show excites her fully. In fact, the violet eyed vixen blows a kiss into the air, knowing full well that her initial actions will entice the viewers at home.

Afterwards, she slowly unties a meticulously sewn blue robe from her waist and strips it off from her chest like a scene from Baywatch. Underneath it she's wearing attire similar to earthbound summer wear. A simple crop top and denim short with the addition of insulated boots. Not to mention her finely teased hair and a choker around her neck.

"Let's see what we're working with here." Miss Pierce ties her hair up into a ponytail before bending over and hovering her hands above the scorching soil below.

"Interesting," she murmurs to herself before returning to an upright position, her signature smirk a sign of ideas upon as ideas sparking inside her head. The revelation of dark energies existing on this planet plays into her very special tether to reality itself. Although she may have her limitations, Miss Pierce can practically call herself a God on any given day. However, the thought of exerting herself so early in the game is the by far the last thing she wants to trouble herself with. Instead she intends to rely on her more capable abilities.

First and foremost, telepathy. Clarice Michelle presses her fingertips against her temples and focuses on the world around her. She opens her mind and explores the ravenous lands with the intention of finding Ziccarra Liafador. All the woman has to do is think a thought and she will be found. If, however, she has some sort of telepathic defense then the power to deflect Miss Pierce would cause a ripple that will give away her perimeter rather than her exact location.

If she manages to create a connection, even if momentary, Clarice will try and create a slight opening in her opponent's mind in hopes of tapping into it later on. Yet, if this doesn't happen and she's blocked the lovely lady will have to regroup at her station.

Regardless, Clarice will have some sense of her competition's location and will teleport just enough feet away so that she can be seen and not touched. At least that's what she hopes. Well aware of the danger that this puts her in, Clarice clasps her hands together and utilizes her telekinesis to create a cubical around her person. Protecting herself against the brutish tendencies of her opponent will be necessary if she intends to survive.

"I don't think we've officially met! My name's Clarice Michelle and you're the first person I've wanted to fight. I think you should feel honored." Miss Pierce calls out to her opponent.

It's uncharacteristic of her to act like the stereotypical mean girl, but something about the planet encourages her to access this untapped mine of aggression. It should be kept in mind that if she managed to tie a string around the Liafador's conscious mind earlier on then she would be able to utilize her own precognition to have some sense of how she will react, but not in absolutes. If not, however, the following events will still transpire. The only difference being the effects it'll have on Miss Pierce's long term goal.

Until that matter is determined, if Miss Pierce mental link senses passiveness in terms of Ziccarra responding to her utterances or standing her ground then she will take it upon herself to take the offensive approach and push her cubical fortress forward like a battering ram at the lethal Liafador. This is meant to test her defense.

On the other hand, if Miss Pierce senses aggression in terms of Ziccarra responding to her utterances without hesitation by attacking head on then she will add extra layers of telekinetic shielding to prevent herself from being touched. This is meant to test her offense.

Nevertheless, despite the outcomes and various possibilities....Miss Pierce's mental and physical attacks are all meant to study Ziccarra. So, after dealing with whatever rebuttal she throws her way, the violet eyed vixen will try and teleport away so long as her challenger doesn't surprise her. Why, because distance will afford her the opportunity to strategize after ascertaining the Liafador's abilities. Which in turn will ensure the brash broad's victory.

@clara_mass: Ziccarra sat straddling the bench tightening the laces of her boots in relative silence. Periodically, the mechanical buzz of the self functioning cameras would orbit her head; serving as a reoccurring reminder that, even though she was by herself--She wasn't really. Just on the other end of the clear lens sat an entire intergalactic community, sitting in anticipation for the glory and gore that was soon to commence. For Ziccarra? This was just another battle. It was another war to be fought and won just like all the others--and for the first time...she and The Goddess were on the same page.

Rising to her feet, the former ballerina executed a Plié for nothing more other than to render her joints and muscles pliable for combat. The cameras continued to revolve around her head, not once did she care to fix her pacific blue eyes on them, rather her attention went to a small syringe resting on the bench. Taking the device in hand, she infected her system with the Rapid Action Insulin. 15 minutes, that's how long it'd take before the injection took hold, which was about the time it'd take to walk the length of the tunnel.

"Gametime" She murmured, before pushing toward the entrance adorned in nothing but a black halter top, black yoga pants and Red Combat boots. It was an awkward outfit, but a necessary one as her foe would soon find out. Her slow saunter through the darkened corridor was filled by interviewers trying desperately to get some sort of quote, but this wasn't some sort of daytime talk show, this was business.

At the mouth, the tunnel disappeared, the reporters disappeared. Ziccarra Liafador was now live in the games, On a world seething with volcanic activity. It was hard to breathe, thick volcanic soot littered the atmosphere causing the 5'8 Malagan Beauty to nearly gag with each breath. Under the unbearable heat, her olive-toned skin glistened, sweat beads drip down her face and eventually evaporated before making contact with the ground. As her saunter into the phantasmagoric setting continued, There was one person in particular that the Goddess was worried about, and for the right reasons--The Goddess.

Licther, A perceived human managed to best The Goddess in combat, she was physically superior; with abilities enough in her arsenal to wipe out a tiny nation. So what was the reason a woman of her caliber could lose to a mere human? Arrogance. The Goddess wasn't the thinker, she was the fighter; the brawler. She was an impulsive entity, but Ziccarra? She was a fairly quick thinker, able to process thousands of outcomes in just a few moments, what Licther manage to do was humble the almighty Cardinal Goddess.

Eventually Ziccarra stopped at a lava crossing, not because she was halted, but because something caught her attention. A winged beat emerging from the depths of the lava bed, flying high into the heavens. It was that beast shattered Ziccarra's iron focus, alerting her to the woman attempting to pry into her mind.

Gifted in the psionic arts herself, Ziccarra's natural inclination was to fight. Tapping into her own mental energies, The graceful Malagan fortified her own mind with a collections of techniques taught to her by Valerie Huntington; in conjunction with her own Cardinal Skills.

It was clear now, she was dealing with someone well versed in mental manipulations, unknown to Ziccarra her resistance gave away her location, but had gained the location of her unknown attacker. As she prepared to hone in on her location, the woman appeared a good distance away. "Hmmm..." Ziccarra thought. In just a few short moments this woman had already shown her TWO skills without one punch being thrown.

Tactics, that's what it came down to. This woman had already begun to show a mental use of force, but the lithe frame Malagan just stood there watching with a slight smirk on her face. She begin to see what sort of offensive/defensive maneuvers she could employ to her advantage.

Before Ziccarra could even summon The Goddess the woman called out, Clarice Michelle. It rang a bell; but the poor dear, her words were laced with arrogance so much that it actually cause Ziccarra's head to tilt to the left in amusement. What made this woman so confident? And why was Ziccarra a source of interest in this tournament? Questions to be answered later.

"Of all the pre-war speeches, That is probably the weakest one I've heard" Ziccarra replied, before flicking her hands outward, palms facing Clara. Her eyes caught the slight increase in Telekinetic power, which meant one of two things. Clara was now secure in a wall of TK, or she was planning to attack in similar fashion.

Swirls of ornate psionic energy eclipse Ziccarra's hands, at the same time a glare overtook her face. This glare wasn't because of excessive light, rather the presence of the legendary mask of cortez resting on Ziccarra's face. It also indicate that some sort of illusion had been cast, One Ziccarra was playing close to heart.

She wasn't going to change, not just yet; as her psionic energy swirled wildly in the palm of her petite hands. Ziccarra used her own mental energy to initiate a potent ability of hers--Psionic Drain. It was an attempt to steal the telekinetic energy being manifest, If successful Ziccarra could use it to boost her own strengths. If not oh well, Once again turning in Clarice's direction, The Malagan Marchioness teleported to the right of Clara, She'd appear as two--thanks to the illusion she cast. The illusion was set to send a punch across Clara's jaw, but immediately dissolved into whatever was protecting her, but in tandem; The real Ziccarra sought to damage Clara with a TK blast hopefully reenforced by Clara's own energy.

Her mental infiltration is deflected faster than anything she's ever experienced. This revelation only disheartens Miss Pierce, because telepathic defenses makes this situation even more difficult. It also means she has to think outside of the box. Which, ironically enough, becomes quite literal.

From the corner of her eye, the sight of two figures causes Miss Pierce to look to the right of her. A simple teleportation is enough to warrant a slither of concern from Miss Pierce. The mere sight of Ziccarra charging forward makes her mind race. Her lack of knowledge on her opponent is proving to be problematic as a single punch aims to crack layers of telekinetic shielding.

Thankfully, however, Miss Pierce's protective measures gives her enough time to telekinetically propel herself to the left of what appeared to be Ziccarra. This is turn saves her from being exposed. At least that's what she's been lead to believe. Instead her evasion is nothing short of a distraction as the real Ziccarra utilizes an uncanny ability to manipulate the telekinetic energies manifested by Miss Pierce.

"Holy shit!" In one single maneuver, Miss Pierce's telekinetic cubicle implodes. The resulting telekinetic overflow slings the less than experienced fighter down onto the ground. Her body tumbles onto the scorching floor, searing her arms and patches of skin as she rolls across Drak's unforgiving landscape.

"You freaking b*tch!" Miss Pierce cries out as she feels charred flesh on the side of her face. The pain is numbing, but she'll manage through. How so? By clasping her left hand on her right arm, Miss Pierce uses her own ability of biological manipulation to speed up the healing process. It'll take a few minutes, but she'll be as good as new. At least that's what she hopes. There's no telling what Ziccarra's next move will be.

I have to buy myself time, she thought. So, how could she? Then it dawned upon her. Miss Pierce smiles with anticipation as she calls upon the planet Drak. "Conceal me. Feel me." Her pain dwindles as the volcanic ashes of the planet Drak begin to swirl around her bruised body. Between minutes the ashes will reach the forwarding tornado speed of 100 mph. As a result, Miss Pierce raises her arms and opens her palms.

"I command you to eviscerate this chick!" Miss Pierce's intention is to draw Ziccarra's inward as it'll take two minutes to conjure the volcanic tornado. By that logic, Miss Pierces assumes that by the time she arrives, Ziccarra will be forced to face the heat head on. Yet, in the event that she doesn't come for her, then the tornado will remain on course to the masked fatale's station. Maybe she'll be sucked inside and burned alive or maybe she'll avoid the unnaturally occurring disaster.

Nevertheless, Miss Pierce is still reeling from burned skin, a mild head injury, and the exhaustion from utilizing the planet's properties for an offensive attack. As a result, she attempts to teleport away from the scene of the battle. If uninterrupted she'll return to her original setting, the cave from which she first stepped onto Drak's surface. Inside this cave, Miss Pierce hopes to have enough time to regroup, refocus, and strategize her next move. If, however, Ziccarra somehow manages to intercept her then there's no telling where they'll end up.

Through the fiery embers rising from Clarice's fall, a quaint smirk could be seen stretching across the mouth of the Graceful Malagan. That was for the arrogant comment from before. The comfortable smirk that rest on her face gradually faded away as she watched Clarice's hand make contact with her arm. To anyone else this was insignificant, but to Ziccarra? This was problematic. Catalina Liafador, her daughter, was a practitioner of this very ability. "Bio Manipulation" Z murmured, now striding backwards to create some sort of distance between her and Clarice. She would have to proceed with caution, depending on Clara's knowledge of her skills; she could find herself playing defense the entire fight. Preparing to launch forward, she halted. Something was happening to the planet, the winged Waveyn beast took high too the skies, hundreds of them. Ziccarra could see them just fine, but her eyes never left Clarice, not even the piercing sound of their screams coupled with the sound of erupting volcanoes could shatter her focus on Clara. The fiery tornado swirled around Clara's petite frame, as the soot fluttered around in cinematic fashion; The Former Liafador Family Matriarch knew what was coming next, but was ill-prepared to handle it.

"Goddess give me strength!" . In that moment the clouds opened sending a powerful lightning strike towards Ziccarra's lithe frame. In an event that would unseen to Clara; Ziccarra's frame morphed as it spun on an axis. Ziccarra's "Goddess armor" transformed her entire body completely eclipsing every aspect of the outfit she once wore, save for the red boots. From the suffocating smoke, she rose. There was no time to react almost immediately the fiery vortex bombarded the Goodess absorbing her in it's fiery walls. Initially the searing heat from Drak's hellish lava bed's, begin to char the serene olive tone flesh of the Goddess. Inside the vortex, The Goddess became completely focused on the task at hand--escaping the vortex. As her body flailed around, like debris in a hurricane; her mind channeled the properties of the ambient space around her, and with a powerful psionic discharge, to effectively freeze the vortex as it stood. Stumbling from the construct with steam firing from every pore, The Goddess fell to the ground, breathing erratically.

"I am...going...to kill ...that b!tch" The Goddess struggled to get out, her words laced with exhaustion, pain, and her natural Spanish inflection. The Goddess' body bent in a bride like angle as the burns surge through her body. Rolling in succession to the left and right holding her upper extremities, The Goddess wince in pain, thanks to Clara's timely teleportation, She didn't have to concern herself with a supplementary attack. But the residual effects of Clara's last gambit were taking it's toll already. As her shoulder dug deep into volcanic terrain, The Queen of Cardinals released a series of compressed grunts, but executing a kip up to regain a vertical base. Holding her ailing right shoulder, she was able to catch a glimpse of the damage, her ruptured flesh had been stained by the fiery properties of the land.

"She is running" The Goddess grunted, still holding on to her burning shoulder. Clara's timely teleportation seemed like an excellent strategic move, but Ziccarra's TK homing picked up her location almost instantly. It was like reading energy signatures, sort of how Clara found her location earlier; by using the distinct properties associated with Clara's mental energy to actually track her. Ziccarra was superb at this.

Teleporting to Clara's signature, The Goddess stood with a improper posture, deciding the next plan of action. It was clear Clara wasn't going to fight her in a physical confrontation, so she'd need to force the issue. Coursing through her veins was the strength to pressurize coal into diamonds, the power to topple mountains. Gingerly moving her hands into an "Axe-handle" formation, The Goddess berated the Earth with her mighty fist. Why? because with the strength afforded to her by the Highest of Cardinal Goddess, Ziccarra could effectively trigger an earthquake, hoping to cause the cave that the rat was hiding in to topple.

However, just the Earthquake wasn't enough, filling the crevices with her explosive psionic energy Ziccarra sought to ensure that if the cave toppled, It'd then explode.

Highly impressive, especially for someone of her talents. She's hot tempered and unforgiving. A collection of traits that have earned every bit of distress pumping through Miss Pierce's veins. It's clear Ziccarra isn't backing down from a fight, but the Mistress of Mayhem refuses to play this game on her terms.

However, her designs for this game are upheld by karmic justice. Much like herself, Ziccarra finds her opponent and teleports herself beside the cave. Yet, unlike Miss Pierce's telepathic tagging the Goddess manages to discover Miss Pierce through the use of sensing telekinetic energies. An interesting denomination by the brilliant mind of Miss Pierce, but one she is not able to capitalize on. Instead she's met by chaotic mechanisms beyond her control.

Within moments the ground around her shakes by the wrath of the Goddess herself and Drak's itself cracks upon. A geyser of hot water sprouted upward and uppercuts Miss Pierce square on the jaw. The momentum alone snaps her neck back and she's flung toward the cave's ceiling. Her body flips backwards before smacking through the rocky by the additional blistering psionic energy of Ziccarra. The cave itself collapses upon itself while Miss Pierce's unconscious body blasts through the sediment and plops back down onto the rubble.

"I'm going to die!" Miss Pierce exclaims, her precognition foretelling her imminent death. Death beckons for Clarice Michelle Pierce, but she refuses its' call. So, when the world reaches out to her and the presence of Ziccarra is felt...the panicking Miss Pierce is forced to face reality itself.

"Screw that!" Miss Pierce teleports above the collapsed cave. Much to her chagrin, the engulfing psionic blasts blowback nearly knocks her out of the sky. Thankfully, that isn't the case. Her mind is still shaky, her body is still wounded and she can't necessarily see the super Kardashian hybrid. However, Miss Pierce is well aware of the importance of survival. So, she uses her telekinesis and with all her might picks up the rubble and flings a flurry of the Planet Drak across the surrounding perimeter, knowing full well pieces of the cave would find collide with the warrior woman.

"You want to play with me!? Let's play." The resulting destruction of the cave accelerates Miss Pierce's original plans when a horde of wyvern creatures make themselves known.

"Find that woman and eat her alive. NOW!" Telepathically probing the emerging beasts below, the Mistress of Mayhem incites just that....mayhem. Her intentions are simple when she pushes her will upon these beasts. Kill Ziccarra Liafador, she demands. And as much as she wishes this so, Miss Pierce is well aware of the unlikelihood of this coming to fruition. Her lack of faith stems from the fact that Ziccarra is too good for comfort, but she knows these creatures will serve their purpose in harming their prey.

All the while, Miss Pierce is still positioned in the air as she continues her healing process. Although a sitting duck once again, the shrewd combatant finds herself feeling more secure than she ought to be. She even takes a moment to untie her hair before smirking that devilish smirk.

"I want her...dead." An uncharacteristic notion, even for Miss Pierce, but she's beginning to like the concept of Ziccarra writhing in pain. So much so that she's willing to take a ballsy approach if the Liafador manages to survive her onslaught. How so? Miss Pierce inquires to herself. Then it dawns upon her.

If Ziccarra survives hailing rocks and ravaging beasts then Miss Pierce will have to kill the broad will her own two hands. She laughs an honest laugh and teleports to Ziccarra in the aftermath of her attacks. She will make an attempt on Ziccarra's life by wrapping her hands around her neck and squeezing as hard as she can. Knowing damn well that she isn't that strong Miss Pierce will reinforce her strength with telekinetic weight if she's met with resistance.

In the event that Ziccarra is boosted by telekinetic energy, Miss Pierce risks harm but also acquires the opportunity to manipulate Ziccarra's body. Any sapped energies will make Ziccarra more malleable to Miss Pierce's will over reality, considering her energies will be coursing through the femme fatale even if momentarily. If this happens...Miss Pierce will attempt to use this small window by ushering out a single command before a potentially powered up Ziccarra can hit her back.

"Break your hands."

Watching with very little outward emotion, The Goddess push toward the rubble ready to render the killing blow, unstrapping her sword from her back; she strut toward the dilapidated cave with one intention--To cut the head off the snake. About 5 paces off, her cerulean tinted eyes honed in on Clarice high in the sky. "She is not making this easy" She whispered, preparing to take this fight to the air. Some would call it desperation, others would call it biding time; using a simplistic gambit to open the door for something larger, whatever it was, Clara was clearly not out of the fight.

Ziccarra's lithe frame navigated the stone storm with relative ease, even executing a pirouette through the rubble just to toy with Clara's psyche. It was soon to be her downfall, as one of the massive boulders hit her square in the chest, knocking the battle hardened Warrior Goddess on her ass. The impact from the boulder immediately cause blood to push through her lips, like the geysers that littered this place. Her body damaged the surface underneath, but she didn't time for a reprieve, another massive boulder streamlined towards her, thrown with enough force to effectively end her place in this battle. Super charging her hands with her psionic energy, Z cut through the boulder before it come damage her; both sides of the large stone falling to opposite sides with her standing in the middle. Channeling the properties of her mask, she set another illusion into play, a ploy to be used for later on--however the battlefield remained unchanged--for right now.

"We are not done yet" The woman inside her guided, alerting the Goddess to the swarming beast overhead. No doubt they were being controlled by the Mistress of Mayhem, a tactic that was cleverly employed to no doubt weaken her. They dive-bombed, she was lucky enough to strike a few down; but soon numbers game caught up to her.

They scratched, claw and snapped at The Goddess, scratches littered all exposed flesh. Blood drip down her cheeks before evaporating in the Drakian heat. "NO!" She screamed, halting the beast with a word. In actuality, she used the same technique she skillfully employed with the fire vortex and effectively froze them where they stood. She could've used the same technique Clara used, mentally entering the beasts mines as a collective and increase the part of the brain that dealt with submissiveness; but it would've took to long.

Rising, Ziccarra's posture was noticeably hindered, blood poured from nearly every orifice, but she stood ready to continue. "Heh, what do I have to do...blow up the damn planet for you to stop running?" she joked. In a sudden flash, Clara's hands were wrapped around her neck, before she could even flick her wrist to remove the whores hands, the weight of Clara's telekinetic energy bore down on her causing The Goddess to topple to one knee.

Her face was like the terrain, burning loudly with a orangish red hue, before shifting to purple. Her veins could be seen pulsating through her neck, but this was actually what she needed, to get this heffer close. And Clara, just allotted the Goddess the second she needed. Smirking in an almost sadistic way, The Goddess attempted to repel both Clara and her TK with her own TK, only this was like the creation of the Nu Gods in execution. A TK-Bomb. Packed with enough raw force to rival the bombs dropped in WWII, She sought to effectively destroy Clara--or at the very least deal some substantial damage. Damage she'd been trying to deal the entire fight.

Her perseverance is daunting if not draining. Countless endeavors survived despite the severity of the power exerted from Miss Pierce. She's been bloodied and bruised, but her will lives on. Exhausted and tempered, but she refuses to back down.

"Why won't you die!?" Aggravation is unbecoming, but this battle has tested her patience. Miss Pierce doesn't understand what more she can do. She's beginning to think there's nothing she can do. And maybe there's a reason for that. Maybe this is the world's way of saying she's not meant to kill. Her grip loosens at the thought, troubled and confused, but she's not afforded the opportunity to figure it out. Why, because Ziccarra has other plans for her.

An outpour of telekinetic energy is set off and although telekinetic shielding comes second nature, protective plating doesn't wrap itself around Miss Pierce fast enough. So, her chest feels the initial impact and the wind is knocked right out of her. Her eyes roll back and the lights go out. The curtain calls for an epic finale as the Mistress of Mayhem is smacked by waves and waves of raw telekinetic power.

The pain is numbing as she experiences episodes of unconsciousness as her body tumbles on the ground. Although she manages to absorb a portion of the telekinetic blast, the damage is already done. Miss Pierce lays lifeless on the floor with broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a gash on her forehead. She's bleeding from her head and her back. Clarice isn't even sure if she can walk.

"Please, kill her." In one last ditch effort to end this fight, the reality manipulator channels the dark energies of Drak in hopes of commanding the planet itself to attack Ziccarra Liafador by having erupting volcanoes rain molten lava over her.

She asks for the hordes of beasts to risk their lives and unite against a common enemy.

She beckons for the geysers of these lands to burst through soil and burn the flesh of the Goddess among men.

She even pleads for Drak to crack beneath her feet and drag the woman into the very pits of lava below.

"KILL HER, NOW!" Miss Pierce screams, calling upon the chaotic energies from within her soul. Through this pain she tries her earnest to stay awake and heal. If Ziccarra can be distracted, damaged, or anything else that might spare her time than Miss Pierce believes she can survive. However, if her wounds don't heal in time than she'll either die from the bleeding or from Ziccarra herself. And the thought of being killed by the hands of the Goddess repulses Miss Pierce.

If she's touched once more and lifted from the ground than Miss Pierce will touch the Goddess with her hand. Then and only then will she try and use her biological manipulation for something other than healing and attempt to absorb the life force of the lethal Liafador. If she can do this than her health will exponentially accelerate whilst Ziccarra's depletes. Yet, if none of this comes to pass and it's death that comes her way, Clarice Michelle Pierce will smirk that devilish smirk.

"WOOO!" She'll exclaim and take one last beating like the champion she is.

"Urk..." Ziccarra wasn't able to see what exactly happened to Clara, the recoil she absorbed from her own attack was damn near catastrophic. Her telepathic ignition was so mighty, she revert back to Ziccarra from the Goddess, and was laying in her Goddess armor drenched in her own life-force. Her body shuttered as she tried to move, inch by inch she crawled trying to regain some sort of bearing as to what to do next. She could still "feel" Clara, she wasn't dead, at this stage it was hard to judge which of the two valiant divas were in better shape.

Muscle Spasms she shockwaves through her blood soaked body, the erratic tremors in her hands and legs could be likened to Parkinson's. She still had no visual sight only Clara, something The Goddess would have a conniption about; she could only assume that a devestating attack at close range would've done more damage to Clara than it did to her. From her current vantage point she couldn't see the damage she'd done. She couldn't see the 15 miles crater she blew into Drak, but she could feel the increased heat mounting from the core underneath. With each crawl stride, her body continued to burn. "Urk." She coughed sending coagulated blood into small lava streams around her. Why? She thought, why was this amusing to the people on the otherside of the cameras. This barbaric reality television show, pit two strangers against one another; for the amusement of barbarians. Had death not been the reward for reprisal, she could show them Reality with her dimensional teleportation skill.

Managing to prop herself against a steamy boulder, Ziccarra lay with her hands wrapped around her abdomen visibly defeated, but mentality she'd die before she allowed herself to succumb to a noncombatant, after Licther she was going to allow it to happen again. Her now glossy sapphire eyes dart out across the 15 mile crater, Clara was reletively close and still moving--damn it she thought. With her last gambit, The Goddess was taken completly out of the fight; the question now became could the frale Malagan finish what the Goddess started?

Her body began to ache, apparently her TK bomb drained a great deal of her nutrients including the insulin she injected before the match. This was not Ziccarra vs Clara, this was now Ziccarra vs Time. "What tis she doing..." Ziccarra grunted feeling the planet violently erupt to life. She had to act and quick, Ziccarra could process thousands of outcomes in just a matter of minutes, but with her psionic energy heavily depleted, she needed to rely on her own training, her own doctrine would be her salvation.

She sat with her mind almost in stasis, taking deep regulated breaths, this was the most sacred of all her techniques The Raging Dragon technique. It was created off the basis that people natrual performed at 30% this technique allowed her to use her full body potential without the elements of The Goddess. Almost instantly, she could feel her strength returning, her small wounds quickly began to heal. As the wingeded beast took to the skies, it was time to employ the inactive illusion she cast earlier. Clara's control of them was mental, so was Ziccarra's illusion. The beast were commanded to lash out against the Cardinal Goddess, but the Illusion served to divert them to another part of the planet--the part where Clara and Z met for the first time.

Struggling back to her feet, the blood soaked champion prepared herself to tango with Clara one final time, only the unruly planet had other ideas. From beneath her, a geyser exploded, but the increased speed of Ziccarra alotted her ample time to execute an evasive roll--all the while executing a new series of breathing. Underneath her feet the ground cracked again, acting with a proactive mindset, Ziccarra rolled again; only this time she rolled directly into the blunt force of the geyser. The scaliding hot water push into her body, elevating her into the air; causing her to fall unceremoniously on her back.

Boom, another one; this particular one was close enough to send her flying down a hill on the outer mound of the crater. As her body tumbled, she could feel the intersection of her blood and burn wounds. But thanks to the completion of her breathing techniques just moments prior; she was able to activate one of her most pivotal mental techniques. "The Mindset technique." A form of hypnotism that requires extreme concentration and focus. It is perhaps the most powerful and dangerous of the Cardinal secrets, granting a warrior unshakable resolve and tenacity. The Mind-Set will cause a warrior to ignore pain and fear, and has proven capable of casting off the effects of brainwashing.

Tired, bloody, sweaty; and nearly broken...The Cardinal Queen rose once more, unshaken in her quest to "Cut the head off the snake" The ground quivered, and like the events foretold in the book of Matthew, the ground opened, but instead of the Goddess falling into the fiery pits of Drak's hell; she hovered lightly; maintaining her life just for now.

Clara's gambit, provided the mistress of Mayhem with enough time to have recovered, her apparent all out assualt served as a impressive clever technique that forced Ziccarra into the defensive. "I will not die this day!"

She screamed, teleporting to within close proximinity of Clara, dispatching her conquistador bullwhip, Z charged the magic whip with her explosive psionic energy lashing out in a "Z" pattern to try and stain the Mistress with her whip. Manuvering the enhanted lasso once more, she sought to lasso Clarice's neck, and take to the air with intense velocity to hang Clarice.

"Play time's not over!" Much to her chagrin, Ziccarra passes her trials by fire. Thankfully, however, the time she spent evading spouting geysers and molten lava allotted Miss Pierce enough time to stabilize her condition. With this time, the violet eyed vixen is able to create a telepathic illusion in the vein of her enemy's earlier tactics.

The explosive psionic energized whip crackles, but the elusive Miss Pierce is able to dodge certain doom. How so? She simply uses the telekinetic shielding she wrapped around herself during Ziccarra's trek across Drak's unforgiving landscape to absorb the initial blow. When the attack makes contact, her shielding breaks and it sends the faux Mistress of Mayhem a few feet back, but she'll live. At least that's what's meant to be perceived.

The intensity of her opponent, however, is unnerving. In a panic, the fake Miss Pierce will try and teleport away. However, while her body begins to vanish the enchanted lasso of Ziccarra will fasten itself around her neck. For the brief few seconds of tangibility, the lasso tears into her neck's tanned flesh and severs her head completely off her shoulders. The illusion ends shortly after.

West of their location, the real Miss Pierce tires after expertly crafting what she hoped was a realistic portrayal of her own demise. All the while she was creating a dozen colorless telekinetic daggers. After the curtain called on her grandeur act, Miss Pierce thrusts the set of daggers forward in a centralized effort to catch Ziccarra off guard. They are aimed at the left side of her frame, if contact is made, then the sharp telekinetic constructs should rip through the side of the Liafador legend's head, throat, lower torso, and thigh.

"There's only one Queen of the Castle, sweetheart." A telekinetically protected Miss Pierce teleports behind what she prays is a weakened Ziccarra Liafador and in one last maneuver she wraps arm around her neck, flips forward, and attempts to slam the damaged Liafador onto the ground with herself in tow.

"And you're going to bow down!" Clarice Michelle exclaims with the truest ferocity, releasing every ounce of pent up aggravation from the bottom of her heart. Blood, sweat and tears slide down her crimson stained face as she looks for Ziccarra with hope beyond hope that she's down for the count.

If not then Miss Pierce will appear dumbfounded and reluctantly take whatever the Goddess might have had left in her.

@clara_mass: Prehaps it was exhaustion, she was still reeling from the effects of losing so much blood. It could've also been carelessness; a fight of this duration was bound to produce some novice mistakes. Whatever the case was, Ziccarra hadn't the slightest clue that the woman she desperatly tried to strangle was but a simple illusion construct. As the head, ripped from her shoulders; she released a victorious sigh--It was over. "Well fought Clarice" She mumured, before reeling her lasso in and reattaching the magic rope to her side. There she stood, a champion of the first round, but ignorant of who her next opponent would be, ignorant to what type of abilities and tactics they'd bring to the table. For the first time sense the battle began, Ziccarra stood to full form; as the chaotic winds of drak blew her raven tinted tassles behind her statuquese frame. She used a lot of energy today, most of it was damn near gone, a good nights rest and something to eat would replenish it, but for now she needed to focus on leaving this place. Then, A brow raise in cautiousness. Just like before she picked up Clara's mental signature to the west--Clara managed to fool Ziccarra with a page from her own doctrine. Instead of being angered, The Malagan Marchioness could only chuckle. "How resourceful"

She felt them too, As a manipulator of energy with a specialty in psionic arts; Ziccarra was trained to hone in on each unique signature. As a matter of fact, TK homing was one of her latent abilities. In a bright ornate flash a psionic shield materlized in her hand, She kept a her shield high ducking her head and shoulders, as if she were preparing for a charge.

By chance, the hit dead on, slamming vigorusly into her psionic construct only to disspate on impact, but her lower body? It didn't fair as well. The poor defenses of her Psionic fortification, allowed Clara's daggers to plow directly into her torso and thighs; causing blood to spurt like the many geysers around them. Injured, she toppled to one knee; but pain was only temporary as the satisfying effects of her "Mind-Set" technique allowed her to forgo pain to deal with the task at hand...locating Clara. It was too late, Clara's intricate use of her teleportation saw the Goddess being slammed viciously into the surface, breaking her nose and several bones in her face on impact. The force from Ziccarra's face cracked the already molested surface, and under normal circumstances this was a KO.

But...

Clara used a telekinetic attack to send them daggars into Ziccarra, she also enhanced her strike with telekentic abilites. The same power she used to attack the Goddess would essentially be her downfall. The energy sapping mechcanism embedded in Ziccarra's shin began to churn filtering Clara's foreign energy into Ziccarra for the benefit of her physical health. As the Goddess rolled on the ground trying to stop the bleeding from her shattered nose; Clara's energy kicked in providing her the much needed strength to atleast attack physically. She could use no energy, but Clara made the one mistake she was cautious enough to evade the entire time--She stayed too close to Ziccarra.

Kicking her legs outward in a "Leg Scissors take down" Ziccarra sought to trap the legs of Clara, instead of torquing forward, she'd torque backwards; ultimatly causing Clara to fall on her back. If successful, Ziccarra would pull Clara's right leg over her left, before bending her right leg forcing it into resting on Clara's left foot. Holding the position, she'd then fall backwards, hooking her left leg over Clara's exposed foot. The motion between the leg scissors and the leg lock would all happen in a fluent motion, fast enough to take Clara by the side. Should Ziccarra emerge victorius, Clara would be at the mercy of a championgrade ballerina, back by the reenforced strength, she so graciously supplied.