OOC: J-corp wins...
FATALITY
C'mon, if I hadn't said it, someone else would've anyway. Best to get it over with.

OOC: *Laughing and coughing from choking* Lol, dude, it was more like one of the Marvel Nem.: Rise of the Imperfects finishers.

THAT'S IT?! I LET YOU KILL ME AND THAT'S THE BEST YOU CAN COME UP WITH?! I expected better...))

Ooc: Well then, its time to continue this >.>

"Consider it a pleasure then.. most have been eradicated" She replied to him, gripping her weapons, she realized it was she who needed to strike. She would need to do so cautiously, lest she be cleaved in two. She surveyed her eyes over him, every last inch, despite his inhumanity, he seemed almost honorable in his ways and most definitely was no amateur.

She concentrated only on him, though she caught the scent of death looming about. An ally was slain.. making this all the more serious a conflict. She broke her stance, instead connecting the 2 blades at their handles, locking them together with a metal snap. Holding the dual-edge in a single grip at her side, she initiated her strategy.. the runes upon her belts flared up a deep brown. The dust and dirt along the stone floor now rolled across their surface and began to swirl around her feet, never touching, simply coming together and churning around; as Niniva herself spoke to herself in a rythem , at a tone of that of a whisper. She would now take a few slow steps forward, the ever-growing clouds of gravel and earth followed her movement, unwavered from their action. Again.. caution would be everything..

OOC: I didn't say that I could have did better yet did I?

Nosferatu ignored Ninivia's actions after her comment and nodded. He then proceeded to dart right at her, readying his blade, preparing to strike, taking no heed to the dangers to come. There was no real strategy with him, he acted on impulse it usually was a favorable outsome due to his ability, size and ability to intimidate. He raised his blade up high, and got ready to bring it down.

Ooc: (sorry about my timings >> with college getting more intense and all.. i havnt had too much spare time.)

Almost as if in a defense, the churning soil whisked through the air almost elegantly. A rush of dirt, grime, and gravel swirling directly towards his face in an attempt to put off his aim. In that same instance she spun her dual-blade from within her grip; fingers then sternly stopping its rotation to aggressively thrust the front-edge towards his midsection. Meanwhile as she attacked, her free hand would slip behind her, grasping for the grip of her matchlock. She doubted its effectiveness upon her foe as far range, but as such proximity it could be of some use, if minor.

A risky move to say the least, she could almost certainly be on the receiving end of a counter attack, if not at least a cut from a vengefully swung heavy blade. Hoping the striking soil could do well to put him off balance just enough to cause some kind of consistent damage..he being such a massive opponent who seemed to know not what pain was, a force to be reckoned with...An inhuman abomination even.. just like herself.

Nosferatu had no time to react to the shot of dirt and earth aimed at his face. With that, he was blinded temporarily. A problem, it made attacking harder then it needed to be, nevertheless, he waited yet, still keeping it raised, a blow would be inaccurate now, he needed to see. As he waited, he felt a thrust to his midsection, a piercing blow, another injury that he could shrug off with time. He brought his sword down upon Niniva with a relative idea of where she was. He heard a loud thunderous sound of steel slamming against the ground. A miss? As his vision returned, he saw that had scaved Niniva and he had seen why she had hit, she was reaching for something. A weapon, at such a close proximity, she would certainly hit, there would be no time for a counter.

Ink black blood streamed down her shoulder from where she had taken the narrow hit. An inch or so closer and it could have easily cleaved off her arm; Instead, she took a thick gash which oozed freely..although she retained a devious grin, cringing through the pain. It would be worth the unrelenting stinging sensation..

With her off-hand she tugged her custom matchlock free with all she had in her, shoving its barrel against the flesh she had just cut. Due to its design, it could hold up to 5 rounds at a time. Though she didn't make it a habit to carry more than an extra pouch of standard shot. The shot currently loaded however was of no usual brand. Musket balls with a fire-oil filling. the heat of the blast would easily make them burst into flames and fragments just seconds after trajectory, the iron casing could only hold out that long.. but thats all the time it needed at such range. With her limbs firm in their current stance, she stood in a momentary break of the action. With a shaky voice, but a stalwart resolve, the Lucarvi spoke "You hit me..none too many have done that much.." She retained her grin, knowing full well it was death itself she was trading blows with..and yet she found it exhilarating..it excited her. Was combat truly the only way she could feel such emotion? The adrenaline, the rush one feels in the heat of cannon fire, gun shots, and clashing blades of steel; flirting with ones own demise. One of the few instances she was free of the shell of emotionless, though at the cost of primal fury.. and often taking lives, as she had done countless times prior.

Her blade-wielding arm hung idle at her side, the fresh blood leaking down over her fingers which still tightly gripped the handle of the weapon. It would be usable again soon enough..her off hand would now pull the trigger. The hammer reared back, then slammed down and released the first blast. Even pressed against a surface, it echoed loudly in the halls, the muzzle flaring up brightly, the recoil softened by her stance. With a metal clink the chamber rotated, quickly followed by the next blast, then another. All 3 shots having gone off in succession within seconds, letting out no more though the chamber clicked in, ready for the 4th. Smoke steaming out from the heated barrel...

There was a smile on Niniva's face though wounded, he knew exactly why. He was open and she had something planned.

"You hit me..none too many have done that much.."

He watched as he loaded her gun, it was pointless now to try and avoid it, he attempted to bring the sword back to him.

"Indeed, however, I can not say the same. But....from that grin, you have something planned. For your own well being, it had best be good."

Before he knew it, a strange foreign weapon was shot at point blank range. A bullet piercing through his armor, almost exploding upon impact. A sharp pain filled his body as blood splattered and flesh burned. He made zero reaction and endured. Another shot was fired, and then another, all seemingly in the same spot. Before he knew it. He had lost a good portion of his armor. Blood pouring from a whole it his adominal area as armor in the immediate area glowed a bright red. For a moment, those bright demonic eyes vanished, almost as if cringing in pain, but then reappeared stronger in glow then before. Nosferatu backed up slightly, he was impressed, this women had managed to do a great deal of damage to him. As he planted his feet firmly on the ground, he heard a loud clanking sound, part of his adominal armor had fallen off, exposing this sick twisted rotting flesh of some sort. A spike pertruded out from his back as the wound created closed up.

"You broked through." He said almost amazed. "Such a strange weapon. Such punch."

His tone, though demonic was impressed, such a worthy opponent, one he could respect. There was a pause in the combat for a moment. He brought the blade back in his hand.

"Let's continue with this then." He said changing his pose, to the side, he needed room to dodge. Standing like a wall would not be enough.