Round 2: Taylor / Hazelton vs. Dalton / Richardson

Even if she wanted to stop her trajectory, there was no way she could. Beating wings filled her ears and her eyes, overwhelming the senses, and for half a heartbeat the world plunged into darkness around her. Sensation. At first, for the first quarter of a millisecond, she couldn't feel a thing. Then the pain exploded around her, scraping up her arms, waist, legs, and face. Even the little, specific things, the tiny nagging things, the pecking, the biting, the tearing. It was like diving into a thorn bush. Beaks and talons and metal feathers snagged and ripped at her clothes as she fell, red hot pain blazing in long cuts from head to toe, pain like leaping through a column of fire.

Her leg hammered out through the black cloud. A wicked, hideous boom vibrated across the balcony as the storm cleared beneath her feet, birds slamming into the boards like ratshot, limp bodies bouncing back up like basketballs before they burst into waves of black ink. Poppy hit the ground rolling, timber cracking, splintering, cratering at the scene of impact, but nothing caved. The world around her lost all sense of vertical uprightness; earth and sky condensed into a single blurred layer. Her skull was a mixing bowl as it all blurred together, head spinning long after her body stopped.

Her mouth tasted like pennies, and she was half-sure she'd been hacked to pieces and just hadn't realized it yet, like an old samurai flick, but somehow she found her feet.

Red speckled the floorboards. Poppy glanced down at her arms, jacket and jeans practically shredded to ribbons, crimson scratches hatching their way from her ankles to her shoulders, and she didn't want to know what her face must have looked like. Huh... Chip's creations didn't leave any trace behind, but it didn't look like the same was true for her. Her shoe had been flopping to pieces before this even started; with the brunt of the damage, it looked like she'd gone at it with a tablesaw. Poppy kicked it off; it let go of its master without much effort, tumbling off the edge. She wiped at her face, wondering if that managed to improve her new makeover, or if she just managed to smear more blood across her cheeks.

Ouch. Pain seared up her back as she regained her balance, slamming an elbow into another one of the little sky-rats as it came spearing from behind, stumbling forward, keeping up any momentum she had going. Persistent. Already, the swarm of survivors was massing back together, one solid stream of bladed wings that bent in the sky above her, ready to touch back down for a second round like a tornado.

And absent from all this was Chip. Or at the very least, he hadn't been shelled into oblivion. Her whole body revolved to look at him, thrown to the side just in time to avoid the carnage. There he was, with just that dusty old tome between him and her, and if she just took out one, then the other wouldn't be a problem. Her legs were numb, her body was screaming at her to stop, but they were on the same level now, and all she had to do was close that distance. She took a step toward him, then another, then she was sprinting toward him. Then she tripped. Her arms flailed, graceless, as she flopped toward the ground face first. Marbles went spilling out from the split pouch, cascading across the balcony as she slammed against the floor halfway toward her target. This time, her injured leg didn't respond, shoeless foot barely stirring in response. All the strength flooded out from her arms.

"Oh shoot," she whined, voice barely audible.

Anne yelped as she heard a metaling sound behind her, sprinting faster, one knife swirling past her ear and the other searing a cut in her back. The pain made her gasp and tumble as she made a last push and reached the main area, where she suspenced Poppy and Chip were fighting. She saw her teammate running towards the blonde, the Summer's holding her breath hopefully, but seeing the other girl tumble made her eyes widen in horror. Frowning in determination, the girl ran, another pair of Riley's knives swirling past her, one of them briefly fixing in the wood of her crossbow making it impossible to shoot for the moment. She pressed on, the pain in her back making her vision blur now and again, but thankfully her gift had done a good job of healing the nips, tucks and slahes on her arms, thought not much for her destroyed sweater.

The girl averted her gaze from Poppy laying on the ground, instead focusing on Chip, throwing her hands out in front of her and catching him and a hug, pushing them both to the ground. She immitated her tactic of holding onto Poppy when they fell, legs crossed around his knees and arms around his chest. With one last push, she began tearing at his skin with all of her might: her git sending cuts, blisters, burns and bruises towards his body, attempting to incapacitate him, focusing to target places he'd already been hurt before.

Once again, the book took the majority of the damage for pool ol' Chip. He was hit in the chest--yet again--knocking the air out of him. Splinters of wood and debris shot by his face, the small teen ducking his head behind his book. As soon as it was over, the book flew out ahead of him, barreling into Anne to knock her off her path. It hovered near her, and the student forced a summon from the book. Anything. Anything he could manage, he wanted to get. Anything...! His hands shook from splinters, cuts, and bruises. All of which Anne aimed to tear at as she drew closer to him.

He did two things at once. Near the edge of the map where it was the map, then open air, Chip backed up. He drew Anne closer to the edge, book open wide with torn pages riddled with whatever it had been hit with this match. Hell, he swore he saw a marble in there. But at the same time, summoning something from his nearly destroyed book. It hover to her side, the one that was towards the map. Needless to say he wanted to push her off. Even if it meant losing whatever he summoned.

Anne got too close, hand worsening the bleeding and bruising in his chest. Chip let out a shudder, and a cough. His mouth tasted like metal. Blood. Already weak from summoning and taking hits, a force of adrenaline fueled him into a last ditch move. He coiled his hand like the many books on self defense taught. In a swift movement with power he didn't know he had, Chip launched a punch on Anne's face, twisting his arm as it extended. A blow that aimed to break skin, cause bleeding. Anything to scare an attacker off. Immediately, Chip stumbled back, knowing he didn't have enough energy to complete summoning the creature. Landing on his back, the blond stared up, vision darkening. A morbid blood lined smile whispered; "Boom."

The book ignited after the failed summon. It's power shook the map with a shock wave similar to Poppy's landing. The book was gone. A burnt pile of ash. Any birds remaining burst into ink, words melting together, and their songs melting into a discordant hum, then nothing.

Riley fumbled for more knives, reloading the few he had in his hand. Anne made a dash for it sending a chill up Riley's spine when he realized she was going for Chip. Riley paid little attention to the sprawled girl near him whom seemed to be playing marbles; his feet taking off under him bringing him closer to his teammate.

Riley stopped only a few feet away from the two, Anne ripping at Chips chest as the book hovered just above them. A knife flew through the air to Anne, the blades curving to meet her body. Riley launched with a single knife in his hand aimed straight for her wounded back. Before he landed the book shaking his back, the world seeming to be unstable for just a moment. He fell to one knee almost unable to hold his ground, grunting at the sudden shock, then getting back up the knife still aimed for her. His vision was blurred by the smoke, unsure as to where she went.

Game over. That was it. Yupp, goodbye, just bury her now so she didn't have to wake up to the aftermath. She'd never cared so much about winning until she was right about to lose. This whole tournament was just another thoughtless boredom-born impulse, a distraction to keep herself busy until she figured out what she wanted to do next. But now, this was different. She could already tell she'd

Then Anne barreled in, pouncing and clawing away at him like a wild animal.

Honestly, Poppy had half-forgotten her partner was still in the match. A smile started to crack across her face, and then—oh. She flinched back from the scorching blast of air that whipped at her face and clothes, the smile breaking off and falling away as the explosion rippled across the balcony. Alright. Okay.

That happened. But it was enough window for her to cling on.

She pushed herself to one knee, arms shaking, but still usable. Poppy glimpsed Riley's dark silhouette through the smoke, and the glint of steel in his hands. Fighting the sharp pinch in her ribs, sucking in a deep breath, she stood to her feet and whipped out her arm. For right now, there wasn't any time to dwell on her slip-ups; she'd scream about that later. There was a sharp pull up her arm, like her blood was flowing in reverse, and the knife buried in Anne's back went ripping out and twirling through the air, straight into her palm.

Poppy snatched it out of the sky, already pressing forward against the ground. Her fingers curled up a bit too high up the hilt, the blade biting into her index and middle fingers just below the first joint, but she barely even noticed. Right now, the only thought going through her head was that if it looked as cool as it felt. She whipped around and let go, letting the knife fly back toward Riley with twice as much speed.

Satisfaction crossed her face as she pressured Chip more and more, the two drawing closer that expected the edge, even with her failed tackle. Anne prepared to lunge at the blonde again, but, with a strenght the small girl wouldn't have guessed, the enemy repelled her, punching her towards the void. Slipping backwards, Anne-Marie recalled nightmares of falling down, the feeling of weightlessness terrifying her. She thrashed in the air, arms reaching upwards to grab Chip's collar, but he was well out of her reach by thay point. His book exploded in a ball of fire and papers above her head, the Summer curling up in fear. She was farther and farther, falling, one of Riley's knives almost colliding with the wound on her back before being pulled away, the tip moving fast between being in the wound and being pulled out and making her shiver with pain. Gritting her teeth, the girl continued to fall, holding her crossbow against her chest and pressing her eyelids shut in terror.

((anne is outta the game y'all))

Riley squinted as the smoke blanketed the air. His partner laid in the dirt, unmoving, and Anne-Marie was no where to be seen. The faintness of a body going over the edge. Riley panted in confusion and startlement as the knife dug itself into his shoulder blade, his body lurching forward falling into the dirt, his arm holding him up. Riley stung with pain, his leg and now arm covered in blood along with the goose egg forming on his head. Riley ripped out his own knife, swinging around to meet Poppy in the faded dust.

His voice cracked as he let out a muffled cry, two more knifes leaving his hand aimed for the small target. These last moments would be his final attempts. Two people were dead and the other two were close to. Riley fell back onto his knee, his power was mostly drained as well as his energy. Riley stood up, pain coursing through his body, as he took a running limp towards Poppy. A knife held in his right hand, while his injured left hung lower in a fist.

Once. She flinched, blinking, body twisting as she pressed off toward Riley, rushing as best as any cripple could.

Twice. Without any input from her, her leg caved from underneath her, dropping her to one knee.

Blood sputtered out from her lips. Numb fingers reached up to brush up against the hilt of a knife protruding out from her shoulder, her vision doubling, splitting, blurring as she glanced down to the other dagger that'd sprouted out from just above her knee. Riley was charging toward her through the dust with an uneven loping gait, steel glinting in his fingers. There wasn't any strength left in her legs. If she tried to push up again, she'd just flop forward on her face, and if she let that happen, she wasn't sure she'd be able to roll back over. That wasn't even accounting for the guy with the knife.

This was her last shot.

She gathered up the last of the strength in her limbs, pulling her gift taut in her core, drawing in all the loose marbles and debris scattered across the ground. They came rolling, bouncing, shooting up toward her from all directions. Then she released, whipping her arm out in one flailing motion as Riley closed in. Redirect. Marbles blasted out like scattershot with the force of a shotgun blast.

And Poppy floundered forward into the dust, face first.