Differences

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+++ matches:3:all [2018/11/27 00:06] (current)
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 "VICTORY VIPER WINS!"
+</spoiler>
+==== The Nyoominator vs The Inertianator ====
+<spoiler|Fight>
+“FANS OF THE ARENA,” booms out Yarn's voice from the commentator's box. “YOU WERE WOWED LAST TIME GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD SET OUR SPIRITS - AND LITERALLY, THE BATTLEGROUND - AFLAME. YOU WERE IN AWE WHEN YOU WITNESSED NYOOMINATOR SECURE A VICTORY AGAINST THE STRONGEST GRAND CHAMPION IN ARENA HISTORY. NOW, LET'S SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN BOTH ARE IN THE ARENA AT THE SAME TIME!”
+A cavalcade of cheers and screams. The hype for this match is very real.
+“SETTLE DOWN FOR THE MOST EXCITING MATCH OF THE SEASON, WHERE SPEED MEETS STASIS AND CELEBRITY MEETS CELEBRITY… THE NYOOMINATOR VERSUS THE INERTIANATOR!”
+The floodlights settle over the Arena. Here, a series of ramps, jumps and half-pipes have been arranged in an intricate maze, darting over and under one another. The crowd look on in surprise: how can a giant (much less tiny?) square make the most of this setup?
+The answer follows swiftly.
+“FANS OF THE ARENA!” continues Yarn. “IF YOU THOUGHT LAST MATCH'S RADICAL MAKEOVER WAS A TURNING POINT FOR GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD, THEN WAIT TILL YOU SEE THIS ONE! INTRODUCING, THE INERTIANATOR… BUT NOT AS YOU KNOW HER!”
+Lights fix on Canon, and on the space where their Monster ought to be. For a moment, there is silence, as the audience squint to see if they can catch a glimpse of what is presumably now a tiny cube. Then, in comes rolling - wait, rolling? - what can only be…
+“I SUPPOSE, FOR THIS MATCH, WE CAN ONLY CALL HER GIANT SPHERE OF WOOD!”
+The Inertionator is either much smaller, or, depending on your point of comparison, much larger. It is no longer the towering slab that was once wont to loom over the majority of Monsters in all its imposing grandeur. Nor, however, is it a tiny, figurine-sized cube. Rather, it is a moderately large, perfectly spherical ball of… well, actually the wood looks a little less solid than it once did. Balsa?
+Regardless, Canon looks exceptionally pleased with themselves.
+“AAAAND, LOOKING TO ENGAGE HER IN GORY BATTLE, WITH A GLAMOROUS NEW PAINT-JOB AND THE WEIGHT OF A CHAMPION'S LEGACY ON ITS TRAINER'S SHOULDERS… IS THE NYOOMINATOR!”
+This, at least, perplexes the audience less. Everyone loves the Nyoominator. And at this point, they are willing to take the changes to Giant Block of Wood's aesthetic in their stride; it is clear that Canon has some kind of scheme, and invariably their schemes are highly entertaining.
+“WHO WILL EMERGE AS VICTOR? WHO WILL COWER IN THE WAKE OF THEIR COMPETITOR? LET'S FIND OUT! BATTLE COMMENCE!”
+As Giant Block of Wood goes rolling down the ramps, it becomes clear that this fight, at least, will be lasting for more than ten seconds. There is something glorious and oddly beautiful about watching the normally completely static Monster soar into the air, only to plunge down through a pipe tunnel and emerge the other side, then be launched into the air once more.
+Meanwhile, the Nyoominator is in its element. It leaps, flips, shunts sideways to do a wheelie, and turns in the air only to land on another ramp, leaping and dodging with aplomb. The crowd seem amazed by the spectacle - to the point where they have virtually forgotten that no-one is fighting at all.
+“LOOK AT THEM!” says Yarn. “DUCKING, DIVING - PARTICIPATING IN AN INTRICATE DANCE OF BATTLE!”
+It can't stay like this, of course. Not only will the audience eventually tire, but Giant Block of Wood appears to be slowing. As it rolls up a steep ramp, it seems to lack to momentum to surmount it - liable to instead roll backwards and come to a halt at the Arena wall.
+But then, just as it is about to plunge, something marvellous occurs.
+One of the same portals from the last Giant Block of Wood fight opens up just above it. It swallows up the sphere, only to spit it out on the other side of the ramp, causing it to plummet with renewed momentum. The audience gasp and laugh, watching as Giant Block of Wood continues to roll in the 'dance', unimpeded. Every time it seems to be slowing, another portal will open before it and deposit it elsewhere.
+“MASTERFUL USE OF THE, AHM, ARENA SCENERY,” declares Yarn. “SIMPLY MASTERFUL!”
+The Nyoominator seems supremely unflustered by this. On the contrary, it seems to relish in the attention, veering tantalising close to Giant Block of Wood, and at one point diving straight past it midair. The whole thing truly does resemble an acrobatic dance.
+“STARS ABOVE - A NEAR COLLISION!” declares Yarn, breathlessly. “THE NYOOMINATOR IS GAINING ON THE SPHERE!”
+It's true - the two Monsters are soaring midair: Giant Block of Wood about the plummet again; the Nyoominator in swift, airborne pursuit.
+Before they can meet, though, there is a vast crack of sound, and the Arena is suddenly flooded with smoke and light. The audience blink through dense mist, but can make out nothing but sparks of multicoloured fire that blossom out beautifully with every earsplitting pop and bang.
+This spectacle of pyrotechnics lasts for a minute or so, washing the Arena with colour. Once the last drop of fire plunges into obscurity, nothing is left but slowly clearing smoke.
+“I'M SEEING… A DARK SHAPE,” says Yarn, as the audience peer along with them. “DID NYOOMINATOR TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE SMOKESCREEN AND ATTACK? HAS THE INERTIANATOR FINALLY BEEN SLAUGHTERED?”
+Mystified silence from the crowd.
+“BUT NO - NO, THERE ARE TWO MONSTERS! THEY'RE… FACING ONE ANOTHER. THEY'RE VERY CLOSE, ACTUALLY. DO YOU SUPPOSE THIS IS SOME KIND OF STANDOFF?”
+The Nyoominator and its opponent are indeed close to one another. Very close, in fact.
+“THEY DON'T SEEM TO BE MOVING, THOUGH,” says Yarn, thoughtfully. “IN FACT, THE NYOOMINATOR LOOKS… DOCILE. GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD SEEMS CONTENT!”
+Intrigued murmurs from the crowd.
+“What are you doing?” yells Canon, theatrically, from the crowd. “Giant Block of Wood! Attack, like I told you! Attack, for the love of everything! Why won't you fight it?”
+“NO… THIS ISN'T A STANDOFF,” continues Yarn. “I THINK - I THINK THEY MIGHT BE CUDDLING! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? FOR SOME REASON, THESE TWO ARE SNUGGLED TOGETHER!”
+Gasps from the audience. Can it be? But it's true - the Nyoominator is nestled right up next to Giant Block of Wood in what looks like a remarkably friendly, almost loving manner.
+“BUT WHY WOULD THEY BE CUDDLING?” asks Yarn. “WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD THEM TO -”
+They break off. And as the thought appears to dawn on them, it seems to alight upon the rest of the audience as well.
+“FANS OF THE ARENA,” says Yarn. “THE NYOOMINATOR AND THE INERTIANATOR MUST BE BEST FRIENDS. NO, MORE THAN THAT. WE'VE SEEN FRIENDLY MONSTERS FIGHT. THE ONLY POSSIBLE EXPLANATION - THE ONLY WAY WE CAN SQUARE THESE BIZARRE HAPPENINGS - IS THAT THESE TWO… MUST BE IN LOVE!”
+There is silence, as the audience seem to consider the implications of this. And then… consider the implications in a little more detail. And then, having considered in detail, decide that it is much better not to dwell on the actual mechanics, and perhaps consider it only insofar as -
+“I ship it,” says a lady with a feathered hat, quietly awed. Then, louder: “… I ship it!”
+“We ship it too!” declares a man in a customised Disjunct T-shirt.
+“Us too!”
+“I ship it! Me!”
+“We ship it!”
+And so on, until virtually the entire Arena is of one mind, chanting with passion, and pride, and sheer love: “We ship it! We ship it!”
+And, at the apogee of the chanting, a booming voice layers over the sound - it is Yarn, Yarn confirming: “FANS OF THE ARENA… I THINK I SHIP IT TOO!”
+The chanting continues, and Yarn presses on.
+“FOLKS, I THINK THE VERDICT OF THIS MATCH IS UNDENIABLE, AND I'M SURE OUR GOOD FRIEND THE UMPIRE WOULD AGREE. IT IS CLEAR THAT THIS FIGHT CAN ONLY BE RULED -”
+There is a sudden blast of chilling wind.
+Fans hold their sleeves against their eyes as a thick, textured cloud of smoke descends once more upon them. This is different to what came before - heavier, coarser - nothing like the decorative, breathable stuff from before -
+Canon realises just before Yarn does. “It's -” they say, in disbelief.
+“- SAWDUST?”
+The Arena is indeed taken up by a swirling, writhing tornado of sawdust: messy, and impossibly large, and somehow wrathful, as if a vengeful spirit has suddenly decided to visit itself upon the fight. The partnered Monsters once more disappear, this time beneath the murk of something far more malevolent, something utterly unknown.
+Fires still burn around the walls of the Arena. As the sawdust flies, it catches: at first, gently, but then with the terrifying crack of explosions that send the audience flying for cover beneath their seats. Once again the Arena blossoms with fire, but this time far uglier, and far less controlled - this time, a sudden, horrifying visitation -
+And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it leaves.
+The last dregs of sawdust vanish on the wind.
+The Nyoominator and the Inertionator appear, still in the same place as before. The Nyoominator is revealed to be more or less unharmed, its new paintwork intact. However, the Inertionator is badly burned on one side. Clearly, its embrace protected the Nyoominator from harm.
+The umpire clears her throat, and speaks up. That, she says, was clearly The Inertianator.
+“FANS OF THE ARENA,” says Yarn, “HOW CAN THAT CLOUD OF SAWDUST POSSIBLY BE THE INERTIANATOR?”
+Because, says the umpire, you argued that this is precisely what it was. Last match.
+“AH, WELL,” says Yarn, “THAT WAS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT MATTER. FANS OF THE ARENA - DID NOT THE MATCH BEGIN WHEN TWO MONSTERS ENTERED THE ARENA? AND WERE THOSE TWO MONSTERS NOT THE NYOOMINATOR AND THE INERTIANATOR?” They gesture out towards the wheeled Monster. “AND IS NOT THIS MONSTER THE NYOOMINATOR?”
+Resignedly, the umpire nods.
+“WELL THEN. I THINK IT IS CLEAR THAT THE SECOND MONSTER IN THIS ARENA - THIS LARGE-ISH SPHERE OF, ERM, BALSA - IS NONE OTHER THAN GIANT BLOCK OF WOOD, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS THE INERTIANATOR! THAT SAWDUST CLOUD WAS AN INTERLOPER, AND ULTIMATELY IRRELEVANT TO ANY RULING THAT MIGHT BE MADE ON THIS MATCH. I PROPOSE WE CONTINUE, AND SEE IF EITHER MONSTER RECOVERS. IF NOT… WELL, IT'S RATHER UNPRECEDENTED, BUT CAN THIS MATCH BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN A DRAW? AND REALLY, CONSIDERING THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THESE TWO MONSTERS, SHOULD THIS MATCH BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN A DRAW?”
+The crowd cheers. The umpire puts her head in her hands.
+The ruling stands.
+As the two Monsters in the Arena lie motionless, the audience triumphantly count down from ten - and, as per Yarn's ruling, the results are given. The match is declared a draw.
+Afterwards, Canon comes up to shake hands with Sprocket.
+“I made a valiant effort,” Canon grins, “but I couldn't stand in the way of love.”
+“Our Monsters are happy together!” laughs Sprocket. “I guess there are more important things than winning, huh?”
+</spoiler>
+==== Heavy Metal vs Shards Falling ====
+<spoiler|Fight>
+“FANS OF THE ARENA! WELCOME TO WHAT IS WELL AND TRULY ONE OF THE MOST GREATLY-ANTICIPATED GRUDGE MATCHES OF THE SEASON! AND I DON'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT EVERY GRUDGE MATCH… ALTHOUGH I SAY IT ABOUT MOST OF THEM! STILL, WE CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF TEAM HEAVY METAL AND TEAM SHARDS FALLING: GIVE 'EM A HAND, FOLKS!”
+Wild whoops and cheers. Fans of the Arena are apt to sing the praises of anything, up to and including large immobile chunks of wood, but it truly does feel as if there is a special sort of anticipation for this fight. The unconventional layout of the Arena might be part of it; for some reason, the entire area is littered with sparkling detritus: window panes, glass carvings, large mirrors and stacks of used bottles.
+Most likely, however, it is the fact that this is the second match to feature the rivalry between Khaos and Blade. The Trainers meet one another's eyes from across the Arena, full of grim-faced determination.
+“IN THE LEFT CORNER, WE HAVE THE SMASH-HAPPY, CRYSTELLINE, TENTACULAR SUPERGROUP - ONCE UNEASY RIVALS; NOW, UNSTOPPABLE ALLIES… TEAM SHARDS FALLING!”
+Krystalkorpion and Thorn rear up at the sound of their team name. Krystalkorpion gleams in the afternoon sun, its deadly transparent claws looking somehow ever sharper in the light. Thorn, meanwhile, dominates the Arena, stretching its multitude of spike-encrusted limbs to the fullest extent.
+“AND ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE THE WEIGHTY METALLIC MONSTROSITIES THAT HAVE BEEN CONQUERING THE ARENA, YOUR HEARTS, AND BASICALLY EVERYTHING THAT CROSSES THEIR PATH… TEAM HEAVY METAL!”
+Dark Steel and Mechagraviton, though smaller, look no less imposing. Mechagraviton rears back, giving a weight, metallic screech - much to the delight of the crowd. Dark Steel in particular is looking exceptionally stylish. About his shoulders hangs a black, jet-fringed cape cape that billows elegantly in the breeze: an original {Aster Dis} design. The crowd marvels; it becomes clear that the cape is none other than a repurposed swimsuit, seamlessly incorporated into the flow of the garment.
+The Trainers themselves are looking no less striking. Thistle and Khaos stand back to back, the picture of fire-forged teamwork, eyes narrowed at their opponents.
+Thistle speaks first, in a derisive voice that cuts across the noise of the crowd. “Hey, Blade! Your monster's so ugly it doesn't need to step on a mirror to shatter it!” As the audience becomes awash with calls of 'ooooooh', and 'fight!', she steps away from Khaos, arms flung out in a power stance.
+Thorn, as if for good measure, lashes out one of its tentacles to smash one of the mirrors at the centre of the Arena. Whilst it does not necessarily reinforce the statement, per se, the crowd goes wild with appreciation.
+Blade steps up, shaking his fist at Thistle. “Yeah? Well, your Monster's like a freshly laundered cushion! It's soft and it smells nice!”
+Thistle's own hands ball into fists, and she looks affronted.
+“Besides,” says Blade, “Dark Steel's so tough they had to reinforce the Arena against it!”
+“You'd better hope they don't put an upper limit on the Arena!” calls Thistle. “It couldn't fit your ego!”
+It is Crash's turn to step away from where she is standing posed back to back with her own partner. “Hey, Khaos. You back for more? Guess you decided you couldn't win against Blade without the help of a friend! Well, two can play at that game!”
+Khaos gives a disdainful laugh, posing elegantly next to Thistle. “Tchyeah, whatever. You two are yesterday's news. You're so outdated they have to pay 15 Riel to charge you up! Now let's do this!”
+“FIGHT COMMENCE!”
+As Dark Steel advances, he brings up his arm, causing the cape to billow out again: a lash of black against the afternoon sky. Then, with an almighty flourish, he rips the cape from his shoulders and tosses it to the side - where it lands, elegant and undamaged.
+“WHAT A SPECTACLE, FOLKS!” yells the commentator. “LOOK AT THAT TECHNIQUE! THAT FINESSE! THIS MUST HAVE TAKEN SOME SERIOUS TRAINING. GOOD THING HE DIDN'T DO THAT IN THE ACTUAL SWIMSUIT COMPETITION, MIND. IF THE MONSTER'S NOT WEARING THE SWIMSUIT, THAT'S GROUNDS FOR DISQUALIFICATION! STILL. WHAT STYLE!”
+Slowly, with a low snarl, Dark Steel begins to draw his blade. Mechagraviton, from behind it, gives a disgruntled whirr.
+Meanwhile, Thorn and Krystalkorpion advance. Between Krystalkorpion's lashing tail and Thorn's terrifying thicket of limbs, they make short work of the smashable features of the Arena. There are 'oohs' and 'ahs' as shards literally begin to fall around them, glinting impressively in the light.
+“Enough!” yells Blade. “Dark Steel - go!”
+Dark Steel's sword has been slowly pulsating, darkness drawing in around it. Now, it emerges in an overwhelming pulse of energy.
+Krystalkorpion is flung from the floor in an almighty gust of wind and glass shards. It slams against the Arena wall. Thorn, meanwhile, just about manages to hold itself in place by clinging onto one of the glass fixtures jutting out from the floor, but it is momentarily dazed. Nonetheless, it lashes out wildly with its spike-encrusted tentacles, catching Mechagraviton several times in the metallic snout.
+Mechagraviton rears back, as Krystalkorpion rights itself. Meanwhile, Dark Steel advances on Thorn, whose flailing limbs currently form a barrier before it.
+Krystalkorpion comes barrelling into Mechagraviton, skidding sideways in order to thrash its top-heavy tail against its opponent's armoured side. Mechagraviton gives an annoyed 'wub' of sound, as Krystalkorpion is once against flung back by its own force, crashing into another full-length mirror.
+Mechagraviton, however, manages to reach Dark Steel, who has turned around to lash out at the nearby Krystalkorpion. The horizontal wheel between its wings begins spinning, glowing a bright purple.
+Dark Steel begins to hover above the ground, much to Krystalkorpion's evident surprise and chagrin. But Thorn sends out one of its spiked vines, and then two, in order to tug at Dark Steel's legs. As Mechagraviton's anti-grav field activates, Thorn's limbs are also partially lifted, and Dark Steel stays where he is. Mechagraviton gives an affronted 'vwoom' and steps up the power. Thorn, however, pulls all the harder, also beginning to rise, and it looks like a deadly tug of war is taking place.
+Dark Steel begins to judder and sink. Mechagraviton's wheel is spinning at an alarming rate, bleeding purple into the surrounding air. Dark Steel begins to rise again - and Thorn with it, hovering a couple of meters from the Arena floor.
+As Dark Steel brings out its sword to chop at Thorn's limbs, Thorn recoils, and with a thwarted SCREEEEEEE, it loses its grip.
+Dark Steel, unencumbered, goes zooming up into the air, as Mechagraviton gives a triumphant 'wub'. Krystalkorpion, recovered, comes stampeding towards Mechagraviton again, claws at the ready, but it misjudges - for down comes Dark Steel again, a supercharged metal weight, and he catches Krystalkorpion full force.
+There is an immense cloud of dust and shards, and Krystalkorpion goes thudding towards the side. Dark Steel begins to calmly pick itself up.
+Thorn, lumbering towards Mechagraviton, begins to whack at it with its spiked limbs. Mechagraviton responds with a swift wing attack, slicing out at the offending tentacles, and sending a flurry of plantlike spikes flying. Thorn, more enraged than injured, renews the assault. It latches a few tentacles around Mechagraviton's back, wrenching it off balance. Slowly, it hoists the weight of its gigantic body over Mechagraviton, pinning it in place with its limbs.
+Krystalkorpion, teetering yet still in the fight, notes what Thorn is doing and responds with immediate recognition. As Thorn holds Mechagraviton firmly in place, Krystalkorpion comes smashing towards it, claws pounding against metal, leaving visible dents. Mechagraviton is momentarily stunned, and held firm, as Krystalkorpion continues to batter and thrash.
+Thorn advances towards Dark Steel, seemingly attempting to do the same. A few tentacles find purchase around his arms and the hilt of his sword. However, Dark Steel glares at Thorn: a horrible, glowering stare that momentarily immobilises Thorn, and causes its grip to slacken. Dark Steel begins to slash at Thorn's limbs again, hacking away at armoured spikes.
+Mechagraviton takes this opportunity to wrench itself free. Krystalkorpion whacks it full force on the side of the head, and it goes tumbling underneath Thorn, but manages to right itself before it goes skidding away entirely. It slashes at Krystalkorpion with its wings, with a sickening snick of metal on crystal.
+Then, the wheel begins to spin once more. Krystalkorpion, with an alarmed chitter, begins to rise as Mechagraviton sends it moving away from the fight.
+Just as Krystalkorpion flies almost outside of the Arena, Thorn extends a handful of its vines, latching onto the giant scorpion's feet and pulling it away from the anti-gravity field. Krystalkorpion begins to sink downwards again.
+Dark Steel, however, notices an opportunity. As Thorn extends its massive limbs, it reveal softer, greener flesh beneath the spiked armour. He wastes no time in hoisting back his blade and chopping mercilessly downwards.
+Thorn gives an agonised SCREEEEEE and goes crashing down, juddering. Dark Steel briefly disappears amidst flailing limbs, and for a moment the audience can hear nothing more than the shink of sword against flesh. Then, Thorn, in all its behemothic weight, drained of its last vestiges of energy - slumps down with a resounding crash, and lies prone.
+A second later, Dark Steel, small and triumphant, emerges from Thorn's bulk.
+At that point, Krystalkorpion is left injured and alone. Any expert could tell you it's all over for Team Shards Falling, but it nonetheless fights with its all, lashing out its tail vehemently at Dark Steel, only to come barrelling around in order to thump its claws against Mechagraviton's sides. It is an impossible fight, but it holds on, scuttling here and there to dodge the blows raining down on it.
+When Mechagraviton is able to stay still for long enough to start up its antigrav field once more, though, Krystalkorpion is sent spiralling helplessly upwards. It goes soaring outside the upper bounds of the Arena, coming to rest with a crash outside the walls.
+“VICTORY FOR TEAM HEAVY METAL!” yells the commentator. “MY, FOLKS - I THINK THAT'S ONE OF THE MOST EXCITING MATCHES WE'VE SEEN ALL SEASON!”
+There is a brief scuffle by the amplification device traditionally held by the commentator (referred to by some as the Loudinator), as Khaos grabs it momentarily.
+“Surely, Team Shards Falling wins for sheer style!” he says, half-amplified as he wrestles for the device. “Our opponents might have the edge on us - just! - but we're a million times more awesome when it comes to aesthetics!”
+The umpire says something in laughing response, and the commentator relates it.
+“ACTUALLY, THE TWO TEAMS DREW WHEN IT CAME TO STYLE: A STAGGERING THREE POINTS FOR EACH!”
+Well then. Khaos, shrugging, gives it up as a lost cause. The two teams glower theatrically at one another as they leave the arena.
+</spoiler>
+==== Bulwark vs Thorn ====
+<spoiler|Fight>
+“FANS OF THE ARENA! ROLL UP FOR A CLASSIC MONSTER BATTLE, MUCH LIKE THE TRADITIONAL MONSTER BATTLES OF OLD: SMASHY THING MEETS… ANOTHER SMASHY THING!”
+The crowd whistles and whoops its delight. “Hooray for smashing!” yells a young woman with asymmetrical hair in an oversized vest top from the stands.
+“IN THE RIGHT CORNER, WE HAVE THE STRANGELY CHARISMATIC, TENTACULAR BALL OF SPIKED LETHALITY… THOOOOORN!”
+Riotous enthusiasm from the crowd. Thorn is gaining an ever-higher profile - and now, it's about to go up against a Monster known for its utter mercilessness. Thorn itself seems blithely unbothered by this prospect, and instead lashes out playfully at the crowd with its thick, spike-encrusted vines.
+“AAAAND ON THE LEFT WE HAVE THE BIG ONE! THE BARNACLE-STREWN! THE CONCRETE CRUSHING, ER, WHATEVER IT ACTUALLY IS… BULWARK!”
+Whatever it actually is, it is horrifying. Crablike and armoured, Bulwark lumbers across the Arena, barnacles scraping against the wall - limpet… eyebrows? slanted into a menacing death glare. Its face, a cliff wall, glowers across at the audience, who murmur in delight. Its back is defensive wall, and its front arms are spiked all along the top with jutting wooden stakes: rot-smelling and sharp. Clustered atop this are a plethora of concrete tetrapods, each perilously heavy, with one on the end of its tail for good measure.
+At the very top of its head, perched somewhat incongruously, is a lighthouse.
+“STRENGTH VERSUS STRENGTH! ROCK FACE VERSUS TREELIKE, ERM… TENTACLE HORROR! WHO WILL WIN? BATTLE… COMMENCE!”
+Bulwark comes storming into the Arena, gargantuan tail leaving thick, broken indents in the Arena floor. With a delighted SCREEEEE, Thorn comes thundering to meet it, inarticulate screeches still managing to convey unambiguous bloodlust.
+Bulwark's lighthouse is flashing out in blinding alarm. With a scrape of barnacles and a scream of concrete, it plunges forward. There is a sickening impact, and Thorn is sent plummeting backwards after it is hit full force by Bulwark's cliff face.
+Nonetheless, several seconds later, it keens under the assault of Thorn's wickedly spiked vines. Shards of rock are chipped away, as Thorn lashes out, and it skids back, leaving more deep welts in the Arena floor.
+The crowd are loving the spectacle. Tentacles whip; groynes smash; chunks of Arena wall fly apart. Thorn and Bulwark are two of the largest, heaviest Monsters in the League, and this epic test of strength is everything they could have hoped for.
+Thorn's vines gain purchase against one of the jutting concrete decorations atop Bulwark's mighty wall. With terrifying resilience, it latches on and pulls, wrenching more barnacles and chunks of stone away from its behemothic opponent. Bulwark gives a roar of disdain, and heaves its massive head, attempting to dislodge it.
+It has met its match, though, it seems - at least for strength. More vines come out to lash themselves to Bulwark's jutting arms, breaking off pieces of rotting timber, but eventually finding similar purchase. Again, Bulwark thrashes, dizzying its opponent, but Thorn just about holds on - although a couple of tentacles are smashes against the Arena wall.
+Then, amazingly, Thorn begins to heave itself up.
+These two Monsters are more or less comparable in size, but a lot of Thorn's bulk comes from its waving limbs, an it is more compact when it wants to be. Spreading out, then, it begins to actually hoist itself up the cliff face of Bulwark.
+A vine latches onto the lighthouse, smashing a window and causing the lights to short out. Another worms its way around a piece of concrete, wrenching it off before smashing at the exposed rock beneath. Bulwark seems to hardly notice this new assault, though; its endurance is unreal.
+Thorn reaches the top of Bulwark's head - no mean feat, given that it is pulling its own massive weight. It begins to smash anew, pounding down its limbs to the rhythm of the crowd's cheers. With this particular vantage point, it is out of the reach of Bulwark's terrible arms.
+However, although Bulwark appears to weaken a little, it is taking time and energy; Thorn lacks its stamina, and smashing through its armoured back is proving draining. Frustrated, it changes tactics. Lashing its tentacles against Bulwark's sides, it wrenches itself in one direction -
+- pulling the gigantic Monster off balance, and onto its back!
+Bulwark smashes against the ground with teeth-shattering impact. The floor around it is a mess of rubble and rocks. Meanwhile, with concerted effort, a dazed Thorn manages to drag itself upright.
+As Thorn begins clouting away at Bulwark's soft underbelly, the crowd begins the countdown. It is not long before the umpire gives the signal, and -
+“THORN IS THE WINNER!”
+This, although a final ruling, does not put an end to the fight itself. Bulwark, roaring and enraged, grapples with Thorn, attempting to roll it over and crush. It is all Thorn can do to take cover as Bulwark hoists itself up, crashing towards Thorn in uncontrollable anger.
+Elsewhere, another signal is given. A gun is fired. Bulwark and Thorn disappear in a cloud of Xenon, anaesthetic, and Bulwark topples drowsily to the ruined floor. Thorn, although not hit directly, slumps lethargically over it.
+</spoiler>
+==== Titch vs Doughball ====
+<spoiler|Fight>
+“FANS OF THE ARENA,” booms out the commentator's voice across the hoarse cheers of the crowd. “YOU'VE SEEN THEM BEFORE. YOU'VE BEEN BETTING ON THE OUTCOME. LET'S HEAR IT FOR OUR NEXT COMPETITORS - DOUGHBALL VERSUS TIIIITCH!”
+The two Monsters, both relatively docile, are ushered through the gates of the Arena.
+“ON THE RIGHT, WE HAVE THE CUDDLY LITTLE SCAMP THAT GLIDES THROUGH THE AIR LIKE A NIGHTMARE WITH WINGS… TITCH!”
+Titch comes scuttling into the Arena, fur bristling. It jumps from a nearby corner and glides towards the ground.
+“AAAAAND ON THE LEFT: WE'VE SEEN IT ON EVERY MEAL VOUCHER FROM HERE TO THE MONSTER HOUSE; WE'VE EVEN SEEN IT ON THE ARENA WALLS - BUT HOW WILL IT FARE WHEN IT'S UP AGAINST THE PROS? I GIVE YOU… DOUGHBALL!”
+Doughball comes bouncing cheerfully into the Arena. Its larger-than-life, brightly-painted facsimile on the Arena wall looms cutely over it.
+“WHO WILL TRIUMPH? WHO WILL BE SQUISHED? LET'S FIND OUT! BATTLE… COMMENCE!”
+Doughball bounces distractedly, still gazing up wide-eyed at the cheering crowd - who, for their part, laugh and roar all the louder. When Titch comes scuttling towards it, it hardly sees anything coming.
+“OOF!” yells the commentator, as Titch goes careening into Doughball, sending it rolling haplessly across the floor. “A PALPABLE HIT, FOLKS! CAN DOUGHBALL COME BACK FROM THIS?”
+Judging by the slight commotion from the stands, it's clear that one person is relatively certain of the answer to this question. Max steps in, spiritedly jostling the commentator out of the way of their voice-amplifying archeotech device, and addressing the crowd.
+“Isn't Doughball just the cutest?” he asks the crowd, who yell their approval. “Look at it - biding its time! Erm… lying in wait, ready to pounce!”
+Doughball, knocked upside down, comes to a miserable, circling halt.
+“Clearly, Titch doesn't know what it's facing!”
+Although the commentator looks somewhat annoyed, and makes a halfhearted grab for his amplification device, there is appreciative laughter from the audience. They know what Max is up to, and they are perfectly happy to lend him their approval if it leads to a more interesting show.
+Meanwhile, Titch has found a small outcrop of rock in the Arena, and is using this vantage point to plan its next attack. Eyes fixed on Doughball, its fur begins to ripple in anticipation.
+Doughball bounces, dejectedly.
+“Oof!” go both Max and the commentator simultaneously, as Titch glides sharply towards its opponent, legs outstretched.
+It latches onto Doughball, making deep indents in its delicious-smelling flesh, pinning it to the floor. Judging by Max's grimace, this might be over soon.
+“Fans of the Arena,” he begins, hastily - and ends, as Titch jumps back. “Erm -”
+Doughball, springing slowly back into shape, mills unhappily about - unexpectedly released, yet by no means pleased with the situation in which it finds itself. Slowly, it turns towards Titch -
+- who has launched itself into another glide, this time faster, legs poised arrowlike before it.
+The impact is something to behold. With a sickening tear, it punches a hole directly through Doughball's centre.
+“OOH - BRUTAL!” says the commentator, who has managed to wrest back his voice amplifier. Max puts his head in his hands.
+Doughball flops to the floor. There is a moment of awed silence from the crowd. Even Titch remains perfectly still, perhaps awaiting orders from its master.
+The umpire begins the count. Slowly, the crowd join him: “Seven… six… five…”
+Max is watching through his fingers.
+Then - movement.
+Doughball begins to rise.
+What's this?
+The crowd leans forward, eager to catch a glimpse of Maximum Taste's unexpected strategy. A warm glow of light is engulfing Doughball, obscuring it from sight. The aromatic smell of fresh baking floods the Arena.
+Max's jaw drops. “Doughball is… evolving?”
+In a blinding flash of baking and sprinkles, Doughball appears once more: resurrected! Before Titch drops a large, chocolate-coated, sprinkle-strewn shape… not doughball, but -
+“IT'S A DOUGHNUT, FOLKS! DOUGHBALL HAS TRANSFORMED INTO A DOUGHNUT!”
+Doughball - Doughnut? - initially flat on the floor, bounces up to rest on its edge. It jumps back for a moment. It looms over Titch.
+Then, with a sudden puff of powdered sugar, it spits a bright red, glutinous substance at Titch.
+Titch recoils, disgustedly shaking itself. It appears… entirely unharmed.
+Max seizes his opportunity. “Fans of the Arena - I think you will find that the fight has already been won! The more observant of you will have noticed that whilst Doughball began moving five seconds into the count… Titch remained perfectly still for over ten seconds!”
+The umpire gives a confused double take. The commentator laughs. Max grins.
+“What do you say, people of the Arena?” he says, addressing the crowd. “Does this spell victory for Doughball?”
+The resultant cheers suggest that yes. Yes, it does. And owing to the 10,000th amendment, what can the umpire do but concede?
 </spoiler>

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