Doc Doctor

Ink and Blood (Empty Armor vs. Doc Doctor)

Zande would have been crouching behind a pillar across from where the woman moved, topless save for his grimy black cloak. He'd be sheltered in the darkness, watching the woman roll inside after being startled by his pet. The moment he had heard its initial cry, he'd have darted to his vantage point to scope out the situation. A lone woman. And she was white. The headhunter was just about to reveal himself to try and seduce her when suddenly the freak sprouted some ink wings. Dayum. He hadn't seen any white woman like that before. Better safe than sorry. He'd remove his bamboo blowpipe and black dart, taking just a moment to poke it the top of a small leather flask before loading it into the pipe. Inland taipan venom. Without medicine, a poke to the limbs meant that death would come in roughly an hour. Incapacitation in forty minutes. Dizziness, severe muscle crampimg, and physical illness in fifteen. If it struck the neck, all of that would occur in less than half the time.

He'd take a moment to pick up a small rock, weighing it in his hand and watching the woman. He'd wait until she was looking away before giving it a good chuck into the air, aiming for it to fly up and out of view before clacking on the other side of the room. He wanted her to be distracted. He wanted her to concentrate nice and hard on something for a second, and leave herself open. He wanted to nail her left calf, where the wings might be unlikely to get in the way were she to be startled. Zande would time his shot to occur an instant after the rock landed, desiring the faint "fwup" of the blowpipe to be partially disguised by the noise of the much louder echo of the rock. The dart would be virtually invisible in the dim lighting.

Black Deaths, Dark Hearts (Ruby vs Zande)

Zande didn't fight like a reasonable man. He threw everything he had into a life or death assault, completely without physical or mental restraint. The staff would impact the daggers with a desperate, reverberating pressure which might actually damage her wrists from the shock. Were she to be pushed back, Zande would hop back and hurl the metal rod at her knees. Whilst she was dealing with that he'd scoop up his fallen axe once more, wielding it in his left hand and using his right to reach around behind his head. If given the opportunity, he would pull the terrible visage of a thick, black steel tribal mask down over his face, which had been hanging on the back of his neck. What was to come after that would make the first few minutes of the fight seem like a sweet dream.

Black Deaths, Dark Hearts (Ruby vs Zande)

Zande may have been unable to see his opponent, but he made up for it in audacity. As Ruby let go of her staff, the headhunter would drop his axe and reach out to snatch the bo staff with both hands before it could fall. He'd then whirl around as the smoke enveloped them, swinging the length of metal in a wide sweep at the level of where he figured the thief's center mass would be. Sidestepping wouldn't help in this situation. It had more reach than either of his axes, yet could still deliver bone smashing force. Trying to block it with a set of five inch knives would go just about as well as one would imagine, if one were meant to stop the enraged swing of a baseball bat in the hands of a major league hitter.

Black Deaths, Dark Hearts (Ruby vs Zande)

The wild Zande was not one to be tested. He did not mess around. As Tanya burst into view, his left hand darted over his shoulder and seized upon the handle of the monstrous axe known as Hot Steppa, nearly seven pounds of razor-ridged metal. It slipped free of its sheath as if it were greased, whizzing forth in a ghoulish arch set to cleave through the woman's right arm and into her breast, just beside the shoulder. He threw his entire momentum into the blow, leaning his weight upon the attack and chambering his right fist by his side. He cared little for what she did with her bo staff. He was still able to reposition since he had at least one foot on the ground. He would choose to lean or sway at the last moment and let her strike him across the right shoulder, possibly breaking the clavicle or dislocating the arm if she remained dedicated to her attack. No, Zande cared only that his opponent was in the air, unable to move out of the space she was occupying and in the midst of an attack that left her vulnerable. If Hot Steppa struck home, her life would surely be forfeit as her body was slung unceremoniously to the floor in a bouncing, blood soaked heap, subclavian and brachial arteries torn apart and the left lung ruptured. At the point of no return whereupon both blows might land, the headhunter would unleash a lunatic, stentorian scream.

Ink and Blood (Empty Armor vs. Doc Doctor)

As Tanya neared the Museum she'd be able to notice a large, pitch-black vulture circling over the structure. If she remained within the area, It would let out a sharp, ululating cry and drift overhead to ring rosies above her instead. The bird didn't seem large enough to pose a real threat, but it was eerie as shit. If Tanya chose to move further in towards the library, the vulture would try to dip down and soar in through the broken doors first, diving into the shadows within.

Ink and Blood (Empty Armor vs. Doc Doctor)

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Black Deaths, Dark Hearts (Ruby vs Zande)

No doubt Ruby had entered the decrepit halls of the dojo to avoid being seen. However, the headhunter's spotter was a creature of many talents. Vultures have not only sight that is among the best in the animal kingdom, but a sense of smell without equal. A mature one can detect a scent in concentrations as tiny as a few parts per billion in the air. Contrary to popular belief, the famous circling of vultures was not a result of them waiting for prey to die. They circle to determine the exact location of food.

Zande's vulture would drift lazily down in tightening rings above the location where the most obvious threat to its master hid, just as it had been trained to passively do. The initial squawk had alerted the headhunter, and now he knew to keep the corner of his eye focused upon where his pet hovered.

Another animal fact. Many predators, when engaged in open combat, would void their bowels to reduce body weight. Fighting bears shat themselves. Big cats too. Zande had done so for the same reason. A glimmer, a pop. A fast moving object had entered his peripheral vision. A giant arrow? A silent cannonball? Not enough time to evade. He had to block. He twisted his back in the direction of where the vulture had singled out its target, the grappling hook banging harshly against the thick blades of the axes harnessed to Zande's back.

Assuming it didn't explode or anything, the cannibal would shoot out from his crouch and sprint in the direction of the rope with blistering impetus, the long claws of his boots gouging grooves in the floor. The sound of his top speed was comparable to several kitchen knives being repeatedly dashed against a wall. He knew what it was in a fraction of a second. He had seen grappling hooks before, used to scale castle walls. In a moment he would have been able to close half the distance, aiming to get as close as possible before swooping low and whisking a wicked skinning knife from his belt to ram through the rope of the grappling hook and deep into the ground as it began to contract. He knew that if it were of metal cord, he'd have to stab it rather than slice it. And besides, this way it wouldn't hit him in the back of the head.

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@EmptyArmorI put up the last one, so she's all yours.

Black Deaths, Dark Hearts (Ruby vs Zande)

The figure remained where it was. If Ruby paid close attention, she'd be able to notice smaller thermal signatures tumbling from... Oh. He was taking a shit on the floor.

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@EmptyArmorSounds good!