[Center][img]https://i.imgur.com/kGOS1d2.png[/img]
[color=979CB2]LOCATION:[/color]Al Mamoon Northeast - Rocket Inc.
[color=979CB2]WORD COUNT:[/color] 813 (+2 EXP)
[color=979CB2]MENTIONS:[/color] Braum [/Center]


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Mao felt like he must've needed a new prescription for his glasses, the clang against Braum's greaves brought a moment of frustration, hands shaking from the impact, making him take a momentary focus of gripping his sword as to not drop it. A drop of sweat slowly slid down his forehead as he looked at his opponent, Braum having took notice of his presence, the hulking man even making the cocky ruler feel the willingness to retreat. And not a second too soon, either, as the force of the shield bearer's swing shifted his hair from the wind left behind. 

[color=979CB2]"A simple miscalculation!"[/color] He audibly defended himself, more confidently holding his blade now that the shaking was subsiding. [color=979CB2]"And one I'll more than easily rectify!"[/color]

With Jesse's distraction, Mao lunged right back at Braum. He brought down his sword down upon the man, but as his strike connected, his pupils shrunk in response to the fact it had seemingly gotten stuck. It hadn't gone too deep, considering Braum's mass, making Mao realize the cause: Was he such a muscle-bound fool that it stopped his blade? Mao hadn't expected such bodily resilience, and a second miscalculation lead to more frustration, especially at Braum's irritating semi-friendliness. [color=979CB2]"Well it's a good thing I'm just getting started, then!"[/color] He boasted back, but this time was humbled by not being able to back it up. Braum's shield slam sent Mao to the ground, the only saving grace of the fall being that his sword tore at the man's flesh as it was yanked out during the descent. 

Realizing the error of his ways, he tactically retreated. Mao rolled backwards, the building mist being something he attempted to use as cover. He'd get Braum for this, but for that moment, he had to compose himself before this brute actually smashed him to pieces. [color=979CB2]"Must just be getting weaker,"[/color] Mao convinced himself, perhaps an attempt at maintaining a somewhat fragile ego. 

On the bright side, this gave Mao a front row seat to seeing Sven's demise. Absolute obliteration, which would probably anger Midna, but after being condensed into animal form before, Mao had no issue with seeing him turn into nothing but a small, familiar glowing ball on the ground. Recalling his own experience with Ara Mitama, he noted that there were quite a few potential values to ending a life in this world. If but for only a moment, Mao eyed Gunnar, wondering if he could've gained some of his abilities if he'd just skewered the man. But even though the potential sounded great, he wasn't about to go through with it. Both because he was already on their side and it'd be hard to justify, and there was just... Something about the old guy. He was pretty good.

Shifting from the idea of killing people, Mao was brought to alert not by Braum, but rather by Ciella. The shift from another one of her wide-scale attacks made him think he might need to run, but there wasn't any time for that. As Mao attempted to move, he soon found the arrows from the sky being effective from their surprise factor alone. Multiple arrows pierced through Mao's body, one going through his leg which instantly sent him crashing to the ground with his movement attempt. The second tore into his shoulder, weapon instantly dropping from his hand as both impacts caused enough anguish to be audible. 

In a series of unfortunate events, Mao had gone from confident and vengeful to a rather pathetic mess on the ground. Having one usable arm and leg meant he could barely move, but at least nothing had torn through something like his head. Soaked and battered, he wasn't able to do much about Nastasia and Shadow, let alone Ciella, without healing aid. So in a mess of wet sand, cold wet clothes, and his own blood, Mao remained on the ground. 

But, being down wasn't entirely out. Mao shifted his off-hand under his coat, charging his Star magic in preparation for what retaliation he could manage if someone decided to bring themselves upon him. The metal made a rather difficult terrain for his mechanical limbs to travel on, but between them and his good leg, Mao felt he could potentially move himself somewhat if needed. But in his condition, he'd rather just stay put. He looked mostly dead, though most people in the arena could probably tell he was still alive just by the fact he hadn't ended up as a Spirit. 

If someone approached, his heavy breathing would also be a clear sign of life. Trying to repress the pain in his leg and shoulder, not being weak enough to make a ruckus about his injuries a second time. He just hoped what defensive measures he had were enough to keep himself from being the victim of anyone deciding to make their way over.