Let us have some sparring, Nishkis new initiation sparring ((Closed))

"Because I'm not as wussy as everyone else!"
Wait, did that make sense? She could never tell... Anyway, big yay for Nishki carrying her. Her feet hurt like hell. Not like she'd tell anyone.
"Like that Kalamity dude! Wuss!"
She was totally thankful to him. This was just her way to show it.

Nishki carried her to his room, he was sure her body was aching after a fight like that, and he wanted to make sure she was ok, he had half a mind to stop her from facing Vince, but he knew he could not stop her . He wasnt going to force or say anything about quiiting. He then asked her quietly "Tali, do you want medical treatment? Im sure your in pain....."

"Pff, I've had worse..."
She crossed her arms. Or tried to, about halfway, she was hold back. She damned herself for straining herself so much.
"But if you insist... Medical Treatment would be okay..."
She murmured, and for the first time today, thought about how she was going to beat that creepy guy like this.
It wasn't going to be easy, that was for sure... But damn, she wanted that post! t was closer to becoming an admiral than she had ever been before!

Nishki then took out the ice packs and medical ointments. He wasn't too familiar with medical practice, but he did know basic first aid. He then slowly bega massaging her legs "Where does it hurt Tali, let me out some ice on it?"

"Except everywhere?"
She tried to sound as nasty as she nrmally did, but the effect was horribly brought down by her purring. Damn that purring! She never could help it.
"Mmmh.... My feet are burned, I think... My nose also hurts like hell.... Don't put ice on that though."

Nishki slowly applied the ice pack to Talithas feet, spreading the ice around her legs. He then leaned forward to kiss Talithas nose. He laughed slowly after that and went back to applying the ice on Talithas feet. He was being gentle with Talithas feet, trying to make her relax.

After the medical staff had taken Mary from Tero, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do next. The ship was running smoothly. Talitha was in no condition to start his training. All the other high ranking officers had left the deck. So Tero decided to keep an eye on things while Nishki was away, not to mention he could use the free time to start his training. After some thought about what he should train in, Tero decided to build up his endurance. Two thousand laps around the ship would be a good start, followed by five hundred push-ups. It was kids stuff compared to what he used to do, but it was something. So, off he went, zipping around the deck of the ship at high speed, using soru to keep moving.

Some thirty minutes after the crew had broken up, Kalamity walked back out onto the deck of the ship. Under his one arm he carried a crate, a dozen green bottle necks protruding from it. The deck was nearly empty by now, everybody in the mess or medical offices or somewhere. Only a few men on the lookout or cleaning remained. Them, and Tero, who was running laps by way of self-imposed training.

"Sergeant Tero," Kalamity hissed, placing his box on the ground and raising a hand. "Will you take a break from your training?"

Sliding down into a sitting position on the deck, Vince grabbed one of the green bottlenecks from his crate and pulled out a bottle of champagne. With his one thumb he popped the cork, which flew uneventfully out over the ship's railing. Kalamity turned the bottle up, the bottle foaming and churning on the inside as it's contents were drained in one draught.

"Will you join me for dinner, Sergeant?" Vince inquired. He popped the cork on and proceeded to drain another bottle. Staring straight ahead, seeing something only he could see, a digital readout relayed by his eye directly to his brain, Kalamity looked over and put the second empty bottle down next to the first. "I'm already 83% full, and have plenty of extra."

Tero landed next to Kalamity and dropped down on the deck next to him in a sitting position. "Sure," he said. He watched Kalamity drain two bottles of champaign in quick succession and then set the bottles down beside him. When he heard Kalamity's comment about percentage, Tero frowned. "Sir, what do you mean by eighty-three percent full? If you don't mind me asking."

Kalamity passed over a bottle of champagne. It was refrigerated, oddly high quality to be sitting around by the case, a south blue vintage. The read admiral was in the process of draining a third bottle when Tero asked his question. He placed it down with the other two empty ones before turning his head to answer him.

"I measure how full I am in percentages because I was told that good math was like good health. It is the equation for eternal life, and immortality is in the numbers," Vince explained. Quickly, he held up his now-freed hand.

"There is no such equation," Kalamity stated flatly. Having met his stupid joke quota, he gave a more reasonable explanation.

"When I cannot be serviced by proper equipment, my modifications require alternative power sources. Though not optimum, I can run indefinately on champaign. I am eighty-three..." Kalamity paused, then waved his hand dismissively. "Pardon...eighty-nine percent full, now. Two more bottles should do."

Popping the cork of another overboard, Kalamity tapped the base of his new bottle against the side of the one he'd just passed to Tero.

"To good company," Vince rasped, turning his bottle up and draining it, rapidly, as he had the other three.

Tero was only slightly surprised by this explanation. He had already known something was different about Kalamity, he just hadn't known what it was. "So you mean that you're partially mechanical?" he asked. He held up the bottle he was holding to look at it closer. "Champaign. It seems like an odd power source."

Vince finished off the last of the bottles he'd need, leaving three behind in the crate. Unlike with the coffee he'd had earlier, the Rear Admiral drank the champagne very carefully, pouring it straight down his throat and leaving no opportunity for the stuff to simply leak out through his cheekless mouth.

"I am partially mechanical," Vince parroted. "Much of my skin and most of my organs have been replaced by metal. I have no stomach; 'eating' for me is different." Kalamity stood up, looking at Tero and gesturing towards the box.

"You may keep the rest; I have adequate stores on this boat."

Walking over to one of the ship's titanic masts, Vince leaned back against it and faced the circle where he'd be fighting in a few hours. Going silent and still as a statue, the rear admiral thought about whatever it is freaky cyborg monsters think about while he waited for the time of the fight to roll around.

((I do not drink in real life nor do I ever plan to do so unless it is for medical reasons, which are far and few between when it comes to the actual drinks. This will also be reflected in my characters as you will see in a moment. Just thought I would clear that up.))

Tero watched the Rear Admiral move away. He supposed that meant the conversation was over. Tero looked back at the almost empty crate and his face screwed up in an expression of disgust. His first thought was to toss the bottles off of the ship, but he didn't want to be rude to the Rear Admiral, who he considered one of the few 'equals' that he had found on the ship, so he instead decided to give them to Nishki. He figured that the Vice Admiral and the Captain wouldn't mind dealing with them. So, Tero put the bottle he was holding back in the crate and headed to Nishki's cabin. He was about to knock when he heard voices on the other side of the door. It sounded like the Captain and the Vice Admiral were in there together. Not wanting to disturb them, Tero set down the crate as quietly as possible outside of the cabin door and he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil. He wrote a quick message explaining what was in the crate and then, without signing the note, he placed it on the crate and slipped away, hoping that his presence had not been noticed.

((That's a perfectly fine choice, yo. Alcohol is just such a social thing, I figured it was pretty universal to use that as a discussion piece.))

Though he was completely still, his eye followed Tero's movements behind the single perfectly black disk that hid it in his featureless metal face. It was a shame; that expression told Vince that the young sergeant had no use for the leftover champagne. His own system used it only as fuel; it'd been a lifetime ago since he'd known the effects of alcohol himself. Experience told him, however, that most people enjoyed it. He made a mental note that Tero was not among them.

Sighing at his own faux pas, Kalamity shrugged inwards. Falling back into his own bizarre thoughts, he waited for the hours to pass in stillness, in silence.

((You guys can skip to the time of the fight any time you're ready, now.))

"Yo Nishki..."
Talitha looked slightly more uncertain than she normally did. That alone was a reason to worry about her being deadly sick...
"Do you think... I mean, you think I can actually beat that guy?"
She looked him right in the eyes. Obviously, she wanted an honest answer.
"Yanno, this has been bothering me... He didn't get a scratch, and I'm all messed up. And I stil don't really know how he fights..."

Nishki then said "Tali, i have watched you fight too many times, and wonder if you actually strategize in any of those fights? You have faced opponents you knew nothing about and yet you have come out standing tall.... you have never had an advantage over the opponents you have faced other than simple willpower. This will be no different..... you do what you need to do and win that is all...... but please try not to get hurt..... every time i see you fight , i swear i get mini heart attacks.... and remember that i...... love you....." Nishki got up, the fight was about to begin the final of the tournament.

((ok lets do it now))

Talitha looked at him thoughtfully, then she nodded.
"Yes, I know."
Was it time already? Hadn't felt that long at all. She got up carefully and set her feet on the ground. They were a lot better already, but still a little numb from the ice.
She didn't even bother putting shoes on, she'd just kick them off again during the fight.
For a moment, she tried out her feet, and after she had gotten a little used to the numb feeling, she walked towards the door.
then she seemed to remember something, and went back to Nishki. she kissed him softly and smiled.
"I love you, too, you know..."
Now she was ready for the fight.

A tiny internal alarm went off, alerting Vince that the time for the final match was at hand. Having remained completely motionless for hours, still as the wood and metal against which he leaned, several lookouts were startled when the rear admiral finally began to move. Striding loudly, the segmented steel soles of his boots ringing across the deck with each footfall, Kalamity took his place across the empty place that had been their ring.

Once again still a statue, cast half in shadow and half in the golden rays of the setting sun, Vincent "Toxic" Kalamity waited for his opponent and the final round of the tournament to arrive.

Talitha stepped out onto the deck and saw Kalamity already standing there, waiting...
She reminded herself not to be impressed by him and took her place in front of him, cracking her knuckles and grinning that feral grin of hers.
Her feet made absolutely no sound on the ground.
In some way, it was a battle between animal and machine, nature and civilisation... She would make sure the animals came out victorious. And every single thing about her said exactly that. Her grin practically spelled out "ready to lose?".
Nishki said she'd win. So she'd win.

Nishki then announed "LET THE FINAL BEGIN!! CAPTAIN TALITHA BLYTHE VS REAR ADMIRAL VINCENT KALAMITY!!!!" Nishki was standing at his usual position watching the battle about to unfold, there was also ironically only half a day of travel to Marineford, so this match would be over by the time they reach Marineford.

Vince watched Talitha take her place, her air confident. The wounds from earlier seemed to have been treated, her fatigue gone. These were no warm-up matches anymore; they stood across from eachother in the final round. The rear admiral knew how ferocious his opponent was, how indomitable her will. He knew that she wanted to win in the worst way.

There was nothing on the line for Vince. He could get no promotion, could think of no favour to ask of any great meaning. Yet, as his eye scanned the slowly building crowd of officers and ratings, he knew that there was something of dire importance he needed to win; acceptance. Nobody here knew him, nobody had been given any reason to respect him.

"Yo!" a young man, smiling brightly, of above average looks had yelled. He'd waved and walked into a group of bounty hunters, he'd laughed and been solemn, but he'd been accepted. He'd been part of any group he'd wanted.

Then, he lost his arm. And his skin, and his intestines.

And his face, and his sanity.

And his humanity.

As soon as Nishki took his spot and declared the fight a go, she'd be all over him, a living ball of rage and claws. There would be little time to prepare once the fight had begun, little time to change gears. This time, he'd take his opponent seriously, and he'd do it from the start.

The right, sleeveless side of Vince's coat began to squirm, pulse, and bubble, as if something hideous were growing underneath. As his left arm reached across and drew the double-bladed sword that he'd used for his other matches, the right side of his coat flew open. Four long, gelatinous, dripping arms of some pitch-black goo stretched out, their movement as unnatural and spasmodic as their appearance. Kalamity clacked his jaw shut and drew in a hissing breath.

The two lowermost of the four right arms reached over to his left shoulder, grabbing the longest handle there. They drew out a massive, lustreless greatsword, long again as Vince was tall. The third hand up reached over a split second after those two, pulling a massive trench-knife of black blade and gold hilt, the blade three-faceted and barbed at the tip, a wholy nasty looking affair. The topmost and final hand, with spiderlike grace, drew a plain but exquisitely forged katana.

Standing, feet spread, all four swords drawn and ready, Kalamity nodded to Talitha. Black goo, similar to the stuff his arms were made formed in rivulets all over him, on skin and metal and clothing alike, slowly running towards the deck.

"Good luck, Captain Blythe," Kalamity hissed as good-naturedly as his ruin of a throat could accomplish. Without turning his head, he then addressed the Vice Admiral.

"I'm ready to begin any time, Chujo," Vince grated.

"LET THE FINAL BEGIN!! CAPTAIN TALITHA BLYTHE VS REAR ADMIRAL VINCENT KALAMITY!!!!"

"At your pleasure, of course." He spoke the last words at the exact moment that Nishki announced the fight's start. His lifeless black eye-disk remained focused on Talitha, waiting to see how she'd start the fight.

Talithas brain clincked out the moment the... goo... had started forming. It did that in extreme situations. Or normal ones. Well, it did that.
She heard the starting signal and changed into lynx form, not actually realising the meaning of the words being said but knowing what they meant.
She jumped forward, not really knowing how to evade four swords, but not really knowing. Even the animal in her was disgusted. But it also wondered how cyborg tasted...
She jumped off the ground, ready to sink her teeth into his skull.

Vince's chest heaved outwards for a moment, his jaw dropping open, before he let out a deep sigh. The area infront of him immediately began to fill with a white mist which rolled and coiled from his mouth like machine-fog. As he continued to flood the noxious, sickly-sweet smelling vapour out over the deck, he lept backwards to avoid the initial lunge.

All swords held on the ready, Vince now stood about as far from Talitha as he had at the start of the match, before her first lunge. The only difference was the disgusting smelling white mist flooding constantly from his mouth, filling the space between them.

"It's time now, huuuuuh?" Vince asked, his voice even lower like the hiss of an air vent, his every word spewing forth more of the septic-smelling fog.

((OOC: Technique Used))

Spoiler:

As Nishki watched, he was well aware of the nickname Vincent had. However, he was not sur eexactly how many poisons and drugs the cyborg possesed, however it was painfully obvious to Nishki, anyone caught in that poison might not have such an easy time. It was certainly fast acting. Nishki didnt say anything, he didnt want to say anything, he was impartial as a judge to this fight.

Disgusting... That smell... It smelled sweet, like things fouling....
Talitha looked around. The damn smell blocked her nose. she couldn't see her enemy, and he made no sounds right now.
Then, suddenly, she saw a silhouette in the smoke. She jumped at it right away, but just landed on deck. But it had been tehre just a second ago!
She felt her legs shaking with sudden adrenaline rushing through her veins... also, as she would be ashamed to admit, with fear. Fear of what? She didn't know... But suddenly she had the urge to cover and back up into a corner. The truly shameful thing is that she actually did... with a lot of hissing, but she did. What was happening here? Her eyes darted around the deck, but all she could see was white smoke.