Blood by Fists (Icy)

[Saber-Five]

Deep within one of the tunnels in the Colosseum was a woman in a brown cloak. Walking down the sandy path with confidence, Meeta Nefertari headed toward the arena that awaited her. Years ago she had been a slave fought in the colosseum briefly. Things have now changed, no longer Meeta was that over anxious young girl that nearly gotten herself killed but a fierce and free woman.

Her exploits in the fight pits have earned the attention of the arena owners who offered the former slave a huge reward to take part in one of their events. Fortunately it was a match set over hand to hand combat, a field she happened to be most skilled at. Of course they told her little about the opponent other than it was a condemned criminal.

It matters not to me as long as I get my challenge. Thought Meeta, as she approached the end of the tunnel. Outside the roar of the masses can be heard, loudly clamoring for their entertainment. The half-breed smirked in amusement. Briefly the sun blinded her eyes upon entering the arena until Meeta's vision revealing the majesty that surrounded her.

The gate began the shut behind the pit fighter who stopped a few feet away from it. Crossing arms over her cloaked chest, Meeta glanced toward the opposite end, wondering if this enslaved crook was here already.

[Icy]

As Meeta stepped forth from the tunnel leading to the arena, a muffled amount of shouting, ending in a sharp yelp could be heard from the barred entrance on the other side. A few moments later, the thunderous gate was lifted from the ground, and out was pushed a tanned woman with a veil atop her head.

The veil she wore was stained with a few droplets of fresh blood drawn but those few moments ago, a few strands of dark, tangled hair protruding from the bottom of it. Apart from that, the woman wore only a wrap of bandages around her modest chest and a sort of leathery skirt over her waist that had undoubtedly been handed down by countless other warriors.

Staggering forward a few steps, the young woman quickly got her composure and was met by the unanimous booing of the crowd, many of whom had come only to see her get beaten to a pulp. Rotten fruit, rocks, and whatever junk the spectators could find were thrown at her, several hitting their marks and causing the girl's body to bleed, while the fruits only served to humiliate her. Although the expression she wore was masked by her veil, the balling of her fists made it clear to all how she felt.

Lifting her head, Meeta would likely feel the criminal's gaze bear into her own, all of this pent-up aggression funneling into the target that stood opposite her. Without waiting for the fight to be called to a start, the petite, barefoot woman dashed forward with her fists raised, screaming a war cry as she entered striking distance and leaped in the air to send an obvious straight right toward her opponent's face.

[Saber-Five]

"Clearly not the favored one here." Whispered Meeta to herself, as the veil faced slave was struck by discarded items from the crowd above. She just hoped the fools didn't crippled the gladiatrix. Beating her wouldn't be as fun.

She can feel the rage being centered unto her by the enslaved warrior despite the veiled. Good, make its more interesting. Nefertari thought with an amused expression hidden underneath the hood. Moments however, the smaller woman came charging for her without waiting for the fight signal. Chuckling with savage delight, Meeta cast the cloak aside. Revealed was her healthy olive skinned figure clad only in chest wrappings and a short miniskirt with both hands and feet bare.

Displaying a fierce grin Meeta dodged to the left side and jumped back when her petite rival attempted strike for her face. Raising her fists to shoulder length and legs spread out, Meeta began to circle around the slave, commenting out loud. "Eager are we? I like that in a fighter."

[Icy]

Already panting, the slave fighter quickly caught her balance after her punch missed and stood up straight, mimicking the raised fists and widened stance that her opponent held. "Eager to be done with this nonsense so I can return to my cell, yes," She agreed, the slight reflection of the sun on her eye seen through the veil since they were now rather close to one another.

Now keeping a distance she deemed safe from Meeta, Isaphne slowly stepped forward as they circled one another, looking for any sort of openings in the other woman's defenses, not that she was likely to recognize one even if she saw it. It wasn't long before the crowd began to boo and throw things again-- they wanted to see blood.

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, the gladiatrix couldn't stave off the jeers very well and they soon began getting to her head. Stopping the useless circling, she addressed Meeta. "Forget this foolish showing. Come at me," She paused, digging her toes into the dirt as she got a firm footing, "or I'll come at you!" Like before, she kicked off with rather stunning speed, her arms raised to protect her face from any punches as she decided to ram herself straight toward Meeta. As she got into range, she exposed her right shoulder and dipped her torso lower, trying to drive it straight into Meeta's upper stomach.

[Saber-Five]

Having been freed for some years now Meeta had been staring to forgot what it was like to be in servitude. The resentment in Isaphne's voice reminded her pretty quickly. Studying the enslaved slave during their circling the half-breed can tell the other contender was more used to street brawl than martial arts than she herself was trained in.

Further examination was prevented as the audience jeered, demanding more action. Silently Meeta cursed them, for she did not fight for such people but her own reasons. Isaphne was clearly more affected by the crowd however, and she challenged to come at her before rushing again.

Gods she's fast!

She thought in surprise before the slave fighter rammed into her upper chest. Gasping in pain, Meeta swifty countered by dragging them both to the sand covered ground. As they hit the dirt, Meeta would try to roll over Isaphne, slinging fists toward the sides and face.

[Icy]

"Guh!" Isa grunted as her back slammed hard against the dirt, dust rising around them as Meeta positioned herself atop the slave. Feeling dazed, the human could do little at first to stop the onslaught of fists that railed against her face, the veil falling off her head to reveal the young woman's features.

Sharp, pale blue eyes lined with smeared black makeup watched the half-breed with malice, their anger intensifying each time she was struck and more blood was drawn from the pre-existing wound on her face that seemed to have been dealt by a hard object, like a blackjack. The rest of her face was slim and feminine, apart from the dirt and grime that now coated her features... it was rather obvious that she'd never seen a fight like this in her life.

The red lipstick that coated her soft lips soon became indistinguishable from the blood that ran down her face, and it was in that moment that the woman knew she had to fight back, or have her head crushed inward. With a loud, feminine yell, Isa wound her arm out to the side and attempted to land a resounding smack against Meeta's cheek, and in the hopes that it would stun the woman if it landed, immediately tried to simultaneously push and kick Meeta off of her so she could crawl away in a momentary retreat, her teeth gritted in pain as her eyes watched their opponent with a mixture of primal anger and more than just a hint of fear.

[Saber-Five]

If she had been so focused pummeling her opponent Meeta would've examined her further with the veil now off. Instead she kept throwing fists at the smaller woman. Whatever sympathy the half-breed had for the slave was lost in the fury of combat they were both now in.

However, Isaphne finally countered smacking Meeta across the cheek. It stunned her long enough for the criminal to push and kick the taller woman off of her. With a cry Nefertari hit the ground to the side. Pushing herself up Meeta locked furious eyes with the retreating Isa. Seconds later she was in pursue, intending to grab Isa by both legs and if successful proceed to spin the petite woman around in the air before tossing her back to the ground.

[Icy]

Desperately crawling away from Meeta, she didn't have enough time to get her bearings before she was once more grabbed by the warrior, taken by the ankles and lifted into the air to be spun around and thrown away like a ragdoll, a pained grunt escaping her as she rolled across the ground. "Nngh-.... stop this...!" She growled in her dizzy state as she rose to her feet, only to find that there was a sharp pain in her left ankle. "AGH!" She grunted, staggering backward a few steps as she balanced herself mostly on her right foot, the toes of her left doing all they could to steady the rest of her body.

Spitting a nasty, reddish glob from the side of her mouth, Isa would have to make her final stand here. She was losing terribly, and she didn't have much of a plan, but she saw almost certain death as she stared into the eyes of her opponent. Surely, the audience would love to see such a heinous criminal's head torn from its body before them, and just as surely, Isa wouldn't be able to prevent that, but for once in her life, she would go down fighting.

Now widening her stance despite the intense pain in her ankle, Isa got low and raised her hands out in front of her chest, hoping to grapple with or somehow lessen the damage of the next attack thrown at her by Nefertari.

[Saber-Five]

The crowd laughed with amusement when Isa was spin around then thrown back to the ground. Meeta only huff, clearly not impressed with her opponent. I am going to have a long discussion with the owners once this charade is over. She silently told herself with increasing resentment.

However, Isa forced herself up and despite her situation refused to run. The former slave watched the criminal get into a fighting position. It caused Meeta to briefly paused and thought. Seems she has a fighting spirit after all. She in turn bent low with arms and legs stretched out then charged.

As soon as Meeta reached Isa, she would locked arms with her, grappling for control.

[Icy]

The criminal couldn't win a grapple with the larger woman, so she'd have to fight dirty. As they met in a grapple, Isa's feet dragged along the dirt as she was pushed back, toes gripping for any kind of foothold that she wasn't able to find. In a swift upward motion with her left knee, she attempted to knock the wind out of Meeta, then, in an act that injured her own ankle even worse, attempted to stomp the heel of her left foot onto the toes of her opponent.

"FFFFFF--!!!!" The gladiatrix held back a curse as pain shot up her leg, sending a rush of adrenaline through her form. "Go-... down, won't you!?" She hissed through gritted teeth.

[Saber-Five]

Meeta clenched her teeth when Isa knee her in the stomach. It nearly worked but the taller fighter pressed on, gripping the injured criminal arms with her own. The half-breed hissed back. "You first little bitch!" Then she attempted to knee in the lower gut twice as retaliation.

[Icy]

Isa let out a guttural grunt as the knees slammed once, then twice, straight into her gut. Any higher and the wind would have been knocked out of her, but the two strikes were still more than enough to bring the criminal to her knees. The crowd let out loud cheers, as it seemed Meeta had finally won, despite all of Isa's best efforts.

Gritting her teeth up at Nefertari, Isaphne continued to grapple with her from her knees, trying to stop the larger woman from putting her down, but the heavy panting of her chest went to show that she was on her last leg. In a last ditch effort, Isa lifted her right leg, placing her foot flat on the ground, and finally allowed herself to be pushed onto her back. In the hopes that Meeta fell forward atop the criminal, Isa swung her right leg upward so that her heel would meet the gut of her opponent, potentially winding her.

Still, it was a last ditch effort. Whether it worked or not, Isa was left on her back, panting and bleeding as her hands held her gut-- she was in no condition to keep fighting, and so it would be up to Meeta whether or not to show mercy upon the inexperienced gladiatrix.

[Saber-Five]

Meeta admired her opponent's stubbornness. They shared that at least, she would admit, while forcing the other woman to her knees. Then to her shock, Isa fell forward dragging Meeta with her. Subsequently, the criminal kicked her in the gut. A pained gasp escaped the half-breed's lips, as she fell forward unto her back.


Well this one is a fighter. Nefertari silently concluded in spite of the pain. Rolling up the former slave saw her was not coming up. She sighed in disappointment, seeing her opponent was in no shape to carry on.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Many in the crowd chanted. Seeing the sorry state of Isa, the olive skinned woman briefly hesitated before coming to a decision. Advancing forward Meeta picked up Isa by the hair, looking at the younger girl in the eyes and whispered.

"Take the fall."

Suddenly Meeta slammed a right hand hook into Isa's jaw and let her dropped back to the ground. The crowd hissed in reaction seeing that she did not kill the prisoner given mercy harsh as it was.\. Yet Meeta did not care for their opinion and instead marched out for gate she came from which was opening.

[Icy]

Laying on the ground, defeated, tears began to fall from the woman's eyes as the crowd chanted for her blood to be spilled. Her hands balled up in fists, she held them to her eyes to quickly wipe them away. I don't want it to end like this... She thought to herself as she heard the soft footsteps of her opponent approaching, though to her, they seemed as loud as drums pounding in her ears.

And then, she was upon her. Lifted up by her dark, tangled hair, Isa couldn't get steady her legs enough to stand, her hands moving from her eyes to clench the fist that held her. What would it be? An eye gouging, a skull crushing? Maybe she'd make it quick and twist Isa's neck.

Instead, her suffering was only prolonged.

After hearing some words near-indistinguishable due to the stream of thoughts in her mind, Isa blacked out as a right hook slammed into her jaw, knocking the top-row tooth, six teeth from right of her leftmost molar right out of her mouth as her limp body collapsed to the floor.

After Meeta began to depart, fight officials made their way into the fighting area and dragged Isa's unconscious body out.