Kite howled in pain as his claws bit into the back of her leg, a perverse mirror of how she had first struck him. She fell, his strength outclassed hers so widely there was no chance of her retaining her footing from the blow, but ever determined to Hurt The Enemy she turned the fall into another attack, no true capacity to aim it, but her bodyweight was behind her shoulder and she had to hit somewhere.

She fell and while her attack had not the luxury of being aimed she was able to land over his chest, the inpace of the blow lessing from the impact and while he had been daze momentarily dazed from this it had not been as if it was the attack had been at full force either.

Yes, at the back of his mind he had wondered how much more effective she would be in the arena but she could land another blow or two beore he had fully recoved.

She would be grapple if she rmained close to him afterwards once his head cleared. One thing she had noticed that with the slam there had been no pain brought to her when she actually struck her. He would however attempt to keep her close, claws latching onto her, fangs sinking into her shoulder, whatever it took to both hurt her and keep her close to him in order to smoother her power.

You would be a much better opponent for the arena where you could make use of that full potential, He spoke, a whisper at this close range as they grappled with each other, or course had she moved back he would have rolled away from her and got up, using a wing as a side as he began to chant once again, another of his dark encntations.

Atop a prone opponent, Kite could not but attack, though her hateful snarls of voilence became tinged with frustration as her body slowed. She had been cold before, time and time again. The cold brought memories, and memories fed pain. And pain fed rage, her fury glutted itself on her agony, twisting atop him to slam her fists as harrd as she could into his chest and throat. But fury alone could only go so far. Offered her no protection from his flames, only the will to keep fighting forever.

She screamed as his claws gouged at her side, her exhausted muscles siezing up as she struggled to keep attacking, her limbs moving slower and slower as the numbness drove further into her. "The day i ever get back my 'full potential'," she spat, "is they day i end up with a hell of a lot more than two trophies."

Trophies? What had she meant? Was she speaking of a time before coming here? Or did she actually beat down others while under the effects of the inhibitors. His eyes widened for a moment, here he was playing with her because he actually thought the inhibitors made him invulnerable.

As it was her attacks were mitigated somewhat by the inhibitors though he still felt them, feeling the impact though his own arousal was coming to life at the thought of her inevitable defeat for she must have considered that she got her trophies pre-Shokushu.

Then I will give you that wish, though not today ...

The thrill of the fight always got Gersham aroused. Blood smeared his lips from where he bit her shoulder and there was blood on one of his claws though she was slowing, he let her punch herself out on his body, shadow flames flickering against her flesh with each blow. Had he been in the arena with her he wouldn't have allowed her tp tee off on him though at this close range he summoned the miasma back to his hand, the left one this time as he brought it into her gut, that energy not leaving his hand incasing it in numbing cold.

There will be no trophies today.

As she struck and struck, perhaps he would see the two long cuts in the back of each of her gloves, perhaps his arcane sight might see the two deaths they signified, the werewolf flung from aside a building, the headless demon who's smoking neck had not yet acknowledged his obliteration.

She knows. She knows she isn't hitting hard enough to do anything but stir him, but she cannot stop, she can never stop.

Until his blow crashes into her gut and she collapses with a choking sputter over his arm, attack forgotten to flailingly try to grasp his arm and pull herself off his fist.

He pushed her away as he struggled to get up now, though his body was sore in had not been broken. Gersham sneered at her as he grabbed her by one of her wrists, yanking her arm up so he could get a better look at the seam of the glove.

He gestured towards her after dropping her ar telekinetically flinging her towards a tree, then towards another, he had to soften her up a little, tenderize her so to speak. The inhibitors took their toll on her but he needed her to know she was beat, it would seek to fuel her rage in a future contest.

It wasn't often that he played with the students though as it became obvious that the fight had left her he fell back into the mode of having some fun. His ribs thanked the fact that she wasn't pounding on them anymore. They were tender from having been broken twice now by Iria.

He flung her fro tree to tree. What is you name?

Her gloves were simple black leather, fingerless, well worn and often mended, save two long cuts along the back of each hand, jagged, ugly, and obvious scars in the material.

The first few impacts with the trees she cried out, flailing to try to strike back, but quickly she saw the futility of this and just tried to shield herself, not that this went any better.

Dazed, confused, it took her a few moments to realize she was now just hanging in midair and he'd asked her a question. When it filtered through, she sneered, and attempted to spit some of the blood in her mouth at him. "Give my name willingly to one of you who does magic? Fuck off. i ain't that new to this rodeo, bovisto."

He chuckled as he flung her to the ground as he stalked closer to her. I can see how you would see that unwise though I hardly expect you to believe the likes of me. I wish to do battle with you in such a place where we can have real fun my dear … a place where your powers would be unimpeded but there are other ways to identify you. Yet I am going to enjoy this.

Gersham halted, concentrated and the ground erupted again as those boney hands erupted from the ground to seize hold of her. He paused long enough to weave another enchantment causing the black miasma to disappear tfom his hand.

The black flames eroded as electrical sparks coursed over that hand as he began walking forward, kneeling at her side he trailed a hand against her blouse or what was left of it, slicing off each button as he trailed along her body, the hand of crackling energy held off to the side for now.

I suppose I could give you mine but that would do you little good ...

Kite ground her teeth as he taunted her, tugging futilely, exhaustedly against the hands "You want to die that badly?"

She flinched reflexively as he sliced her clothing open, losing blood in a fight was one thing, but getting cut up for no reason at all was pointless. She eyed the lightning-filled fist, cringing as he toyed with her helplessness. She would recovery quickly, she knew. Just keep breathing, and if he stayed this cocky she could go for a round two...

Gersham chuckled. You might be right there but you will not be the one that does it. Still, I will allow you to try, that could be somewhat interesting. He committed her visage from memory so he coul reacreate her image later on.

Peeling open the cut top that remained her cut through fabric concealing her breasts before easing a single finger against her nipple tracing t back and forth as he grinned at her.

Again, what is your name?

He then touched a bare hand to her breast the one crackling with energy bringing it against her right mound as an intense current rushed through her entire body. He touched her briefly then grinned, his finger dashing about her nipple as he trailed it along her chest.

Again, what is your name?

Held against the ground by the hands, her body responds, her nipple stiffening under his touch, but she remains defiant.

"Go to hell!"

And then her words are devoured by screams as the electricity floods her, convulsing helplessly. Yeah, that was going to make it a lot harder to recover enough to get back up if he kept doing it. Before she could answer, she had to gasp, draw a few ragged, haggard breathes before she could find her voice again.

"And when you GET to hell, you will find me there, Shadow and Shards, and i will cut you down."

Nope, still a bitch.

Good. He had not expected that little bit to fold her. He noted the swell of her breasts, the hardened nipples that begged to be touched and with that right hand he rolled his thumb and index finger of his right hadnd against a nipple displaying how insidious his touch was as he infused her with an aphrodisiac that stormed over her senses.

His lips were equally as drugging, but the bare touch of flesh against flesh allowed the half incubus to arouse the senses.

He let her feel the pleasue in that touch, bending down to bring his tongue against her neck in a long lick.

Letting the pleasure build up inside her he used the left hand to encapsule her nipple rolling it and infusing her with the drug the very same time that he was infusing that breast with the same sort of shock she already felt for a longer moment this time before he took it away.

Your name?

Kite writhed in loathing as the pleasure invaded her. Traitor flesh aching for such touches, particularly in counterpoint to the myriad bruises starting to purple and swell from her experience with arboreal pinball, yet another sport she hoped would not achieve popularity. Groaning and screaming again, he demanded another answer, and requires of her that she sling some further epithet, as the sullenness of silence is itself defeat.

"i am the stray cat that walks in shadow. The flamethrower lit to curse the darkness. You will burn, darkling. i will see you burn!"

He grinned.

Such a simple question my dear.

He let the lust build up for a moment before shocking her again with that charged hand of his. He did not expect her yet to give in and thus rubbed the finger of a hand against he cheek back and forth. He cut her there, his claw lighly gouging her cheek as his tongue eased against that wound bring that aphrodisiac through her body.

He reached beneath her skirt, easily shreading her garments as he then placed the point of a clawed finger against her clit.

Shall I? He saved her the breath and nicked her lightly there too as he brought that touch along the heated slit of her body. Two fingers pressed together as he now licked and nibbled at her neck.

Your name?

And regardless of her answer his finges plunged inside her along with a more direct connection to that chemicla into her.

"A simple question with such joy in refusing to answer," Kite snarled, trying to turn her face away from his claw, and stifling a bestial groan as he put more and more chemicals in her system. Even for one so overused as she, it was easy to tell that he was helping her along' and driving her not inconsiderable lusts, which she hoped it wasn't obvious that they had been stirred by the fight, artificially much higher.

He knew. He had to know she was trying to gather herself enough ti fight back again, the cold had hurt more than the lightning, but the lightning made her flail, kept her muscles exhausted.

She hated herself for moaning as his fingers delved into her, desperately yanking, but the skeletal hands did not even creak.

"i am the vengeance of the broken." This defeat she will give him, she must, petty as it is, meaningless as it is, he will not have her name from her.