Duel Madness
IC date: Spring 62, 1007
OOC date: May 22, 2012
PCs: Blackbird, Rusty-Gears, Mad-Mare
NPCs: Rock'em, Sock'em
GM: None

It's evening in Horseshoe Harbor, a nice and cool breezy evening. The sun, working towards the horizon, casts long shadows of the big iron boats that block all sea travel from the port town. Boats that are somewhat lively this evening, several of the bigger boats linked together with long planks, the combined deck space big enough to allow for several crews worth of purple-wearing ponies to set up for coming festivities. For today is a day for champions and heroes! Of fighting and drama! The fate of the whole harbor, resting on a single exchange of blows!

These ships wait for the challenger to arrive, a makeshift arena set up on the deck of the biggest center boat, shaped like a U with the open end facing out towards the ocean, and several sets of bleachers rigged up to allow for many ponies to settle themselves to watch what will happen. There's even several barbecue stations, snacks abound, and much, much laughter.

But one pony isn't happy. Standing above the deck, near the boat's wheel, and ever flanked by her twin bodyguards, the Mad Mare of the Syndicolt is most decidedly not happy. She watches the setup without so much as a smile, forelegs leaned against the railing, just…staring. She's been staring long enough that it's made her goons nervous. They've seen this before.

It's actually part of the reason they're here now…

The goons also know what happens if they let such brooding continue. Darned if they do, darned if they don't, the pair step back and whisper heatedly to themselves, causing one to sigh in resignation. They resume their posts, the goon known as Rock'em finally managing to clear his throat and pipe up a noise. "Nice day for a fight, eh boss?"

"Mmm." says the Mad Mare.

Rock'em looks to Sock'em, shoulders shrugged helplessly. So Sock'em takes a noble step forward, but not too far lest he impose upon his bosses space bubble. "You're really gonna go through with this, boss?"

"Mmmhmm." goes the Mad Mare.

"But… You know what'll happen if we go back empty-hoof'd, don'tcha boss?"

This time Maddie hefts a sigh. Her head hangs, still without the energy to look at the pair of suddenly talkative goons. "I'm aware. It's not the first time. Probably won't be the last."

"Yeah but…" Rock'em stumbles over seeking the right words. "…This is different. It's like a last chance, y'know? After those..other incidents? This whole drama thing you do, it's not healthy. Me'n Sock's gonna hafta do an intervention if you keep gettin' in trouble with the Big Boss."

Maddie growls… Certainly she doesn't like to be reminded of her failures in life. Least of all by her own personal goons. "Those were not my fault…" she mutters, darkly, actively glaring towards the arena.

"Yeah? What about that one pony you dueled in a volcano? Big Boss had to spend a fortune to get his hometown to forget that." Rock'em grunts.
"He's the one that wanted to play cards in an active volcano. And besides, he had it coming, with his high and mighty attitude and stupid manecut." Mutter, mutter.

Sock'em shakes his head, looking sideways towards Rock'em. "Yeah… Well what about that time you let that other pony blow up Big Bosses secret research base?"

Maddie rests her head on her forelegs, ears flopping back. "How was I supposed to know he was an animal trainer? When's the last time you saw a mouse spit lightning? Besides, I got even with him for that…"
"…We know. That was ugly."
"Yeah, well you saw the junk he was pulling out of that tiny container. I didn't know he wouldn't properly fit! Again, his fault." Maddie's grinning at that memory though. Oh my~

Both goons take a step back. "And then there's the casino incident." one of them mutters under his breath, causing Maddie to finally look back.

"He started the fire, not me! Besides, we'll get revenge on him too before we leave town… Mark my words." The Mad Mare turns back to the arena. "…You boys remember that one time when you talked too much and I had to kick you both in the face?"

Both goons gulp, look to each other, and immediately quiet down. Best let her brood then, until the guests of honor arrive…

The crazy mare is left to brood for a little while longer, really. As there was no time set, it takes a bit before finally the challenger can be seen trotting up the pier. The off-white pony appears to be a little /less/ off-white. Rather, he better resembles the pinto-coated lady-friend beside him with all the smudges of oil and grease in his fur. Bulky saddlebags sit on his back, lime-green mane a bit frizzy, he trots right up the gangplank to the center boat. "Still ready for a fight?" he asks Mad-Mare, as he approaches. "Because I'll allow you to back out now." (So generous of him.)

Rusty-Gears trots along beside him, ears perked and eyes scanning the ships alertly. She too is looking a bit… oily; it would be somewhat difficult to tell which spots on her coat were natural and which were just grease stains. Her saddlebags are also looking decently well-packed; a loose string dangles from one, admittedly less-than-threatening. What's she got in there, yarn? But she seems taken up right now in taking in the surroundings, trying to get a good bearing on what all was around them on the ship. Still suspecting some sort of foul play to occur, no doubt.

Time passes, the generally jovial mood of the ship unhindered by the otherwise oppressive mood of the Captain and her goons. Both of which have started whispering to each other again, much to Maddie's irritation. The makeshift bleachers are full by now, much of the air abuzz with the various conversations, laughter, and crunching of foodstuffs. All eagerly anticipating an EPIC FIGHT!

When the challengers do finally arrive, the voices quiet down. A sea of gazes drift to the new arrivals, the crowd generally making an open path between Blackbird, Rusty, and the empty arena proper. The question of Maddie's readiness hangs in the air for all of two seconds, when two jarring *crack* sounds come from the upper deck, and two heavy goon twins come crashing through the air, landing in a heap in front of Blackbird's path. "I said shut up!" she shouts to the fallen goons, eyes wild, only then realizing that…they've got company! "Oh. Hey. You're here. Finally decided to show up, did you? Thought it'd be real funny to keep a lady waiting? Well, ha, ha, ha."

She leaps, the Mad Mare, landing on a nearby railing, nimbly jumping atop the heap her helpful goons have made, sitting atop the pile like queen of the goon hill or something. Staring down at Blackbird and Rusty, those slightly unhinged eyes of hers shifting from pony to saddlebag. "What's all this then? Can't be bothered to fight bare-hoofed?" In her current mood, she /naturally/ assumes those packs are full of weapons for the fight! Wouldn't you?

"You wanted me earlier, you should've set a time," Blackbird replies, unconcerned. His ears flick, his tail swishes. "I'm plenty prepared to fight bare-hoofed," he adds wryly. "But I had to bring the prizes, just in case I lost, right?" Sure. That'll work, yeah. He eyes her, standing on her goons like that, a bit of a distasteful frown on his lips. Hmph. "So. We're fighting up here, are we?" he asks, as he looks at the arena, and he moves to let Rusty by, dropping his bags with her. The teacher is lithe and lanky — and certainly not at all built for bare-hoof fighting. But there he is, squaring himself, trotting swiftly around in a wide circle to reach what looks like a good place to start from.

Rusty-Gears takes the bags from him carefully, giving a small nod and faint smile. She eyes the Mad Mare sideways, perched atop her pony-pile as she was, keeping an ear tilted towards her warily as she looks back to Blackbird cautiously and tries to talk herself out of already running in to back him up. Patience is a virtue! And one she's never been very good with.

The murmurs have picked up again, the gathering of Syndigoons growing restless once the verbal jabs between 'fighters' has commenced. Wouldn't you know, right off the bat it looks to them like the newcomer's got the upper hoof in the insults war! Part of that could be because Maddie doesn't seem to be in a very jabby sort of mood! A definite advantage to a schoolteacher what keeps his head.

For Maddie's part, she bows her head in mock-courtesy, extending an arm towards the arena, "That's the place…" she agrees, hopping off the goonpile to assume her own position, across from Blackbird's own starting point. Groggily, both Rock'em and Sock'em get back up, the pair taking up residence at the end of a set of bleachers next to Maddie. They even helpfully point Rusty towards the other end, closest to Blackbird. "Boss wants you sittin' there. Y'know, as his moral support."

A Syndigoon in a striped referee shirt swoops down from the main mast, conveniently placed as the only real obstacle in the arena, smack dab in the center. "Mares and gentlecolts!" he begins, "You are about to witness a true spectacle of chaos and destruction! Tonight the fate of two worlds is to be decided, in a no-holds-barred brawl, between the good folks of Horseshoe Harbor, and the Syndicolt Organization!"

Cheers and jeers erupt from the makeshift stands, as much noise as any sports arena, the ponies closest to Blackbird's starting place giving the most 'boo!' noises to the plucky contender. The ref lets the excitement build for a minute, then continues with his spiel, one hoof raised to get attention, "This match is set for one round! The first pony to give up, get thrown off the ship, or otherwise become unable to fight, loses!" Another brief bit of cheering, and the ref points his hoof towards Blackbird. "In this corner, representing the Good Guys of Horseshoe Harbor, and skinny as they come, Mr. Goodie Two Hooves!" …After all they never bothered to, y'know, find out his name or anything. Nontheless, the crowd boos their twisted little hearts out, only quieting down again when the ref points towards Mad Mare. "And in this corner, representing our very own Syndicolt Organization, our very own crazy captain, the Mad Mare!" Much cheering erupts this time, though Maddie herself looks…unimpressed. Bored even. Staring off in the distance, at her opponent.

The ref beckons both 'fighters' forth, Maddie trotting her way up to let the crowd's cheering wear itself out before the match begins. The ref looks from one to the other, "Alright… Anything goes. Kill each other for all I care. Or don't. When one of ya gives up, that's that. Them's the rules, as put forth by our leader in the rulebook, so you better follow'em." This, of course, was naturally meant for Maddie. Why would Blackbird need to care about following an evil org's rulebook?

"Now… Fight!"

Blackbird looks back at Rusty, echoing her faint smile with a wider one of his own. He looks briefly giddy, in fact, before he shakes himself and looks back as the referee begins to crow. He rolls his eyes at his moniker, and if the boos and hisses get to him, he doesn't show it. Mostly, he seems like he's just trying to concentrate. Maybe on not falling down, since his knees are shaking. Not too noticeably, mind you, but enough for him to feel more than a little nervous.

As the rules are set down, though, he grimaces. Killing? Oh, Celestia. The word is given, and he's still trying to mentally parse the fact he's supposed to kill someone. What? What?? Which gives Maddie the upper hoof for a suckerpunch, if that's her style.

(OOC) Rusty-Gears: thought she promised to return him in one piece! >:|

Mad-Mare rolls 1d10 (Is Maddie That Mean?) — Result: 5 | Sum: 5

(OOC) Rusty-Gears: Right down the middle!
(OOC) Mad-Mare did promise that. She didn't specify which piece though!
(OOC) Blackbird XD XD

Rusty-Gears nods and heads towards the indicated bleachers, though she eyes them with the same suspicion she seems to be treating everything on the ship with. Instead of sitting herself down, she paces back and forth in front of the bleachers, watching Blackbird and trying not to look tense or nervous herself. Whether she succeeds at this, ears twitching, braided tail flicking back and forth, is anypony's call.

The fight, started, and the first thing Blackbird does is leave himself open? Is the Mad Mare going to take that opportunity? To start the fight off with a suckerpunch!?

Nah. If anything she looks as uninterested as ever before, to be staring at this would-be fighter, barely brave enough to stand there in front of a whole mob of bloodthirsty ponies! She stares. And grits her teeth, taking a step towards Blackbird, eyes wide with a most dangerous look forming on them. "I'm still mad at you for being a little chicken about this whole thing…" she growls at him, head lowering down aggressively. "Couldn't get the guts to do more 'n offer up some stupid trinket in front of your fillyfriend. Couldn't even make a dramatic appearance. You can't even make the thought of kicking your rear off my own ship appealing!" She rears her head up, voice raised, screaming even, "What's WRONG with you!?"

Meanwhile… Rock'em and Sock'em have abandoned their posts. Why? Because they know what the crowd really wants, and that's an announcer's table! They wheel it out from the shadows of the ship's deck, and plop themselves behind it, pulling out a couple microphones. The ship's PA system sparks up, their voices coming through, Rock'em taking the first turn at the mic while Sock'em tries to…get Rusty's attention. Maybe they can lure her into a little announcing fun!

"Welcome to another beautiful brawl atop the S. S. Madness! This is Rock'em, and my cohort in crime Sock'em, here to give you the play by play of what will surely be the quickest beatdown in grudgematch history!"

Blackbird blinks a little, and finally focuses in on Mad again. "Sorry that I bore you, Princess," he shoots back, dancing on his hooves a little. Partly to get feeling back in his legs. "I'll try to be a bit more interesting!" And with that, he lunges forward, to headbutt the mare in the jaw. Swashbuckler he is not.
Rusty-Gears watches nervously, dancing on her hooves a bit too, but stops herself abruptly. No. No shaking. Pacing. Yes, pacing is a better use of nervous energy, surely. Pacepacepacepace.

It takes her a moment to notice the bulky stallion attempting to get her attention. She blinks at him, tilting an ear and raising an eyebrow in a candidly quizzical expression. 'What?!' being the implied response here. What in Equestria did they expect /her/ to do on cordial terms with them? Glare. Quizzically. >:

(OOC) Rusty-Gears >:/
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: there we go.
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: that's the face it's supposed to be.
(OOC) Blackbird XD
(OOC) Mad-Mare laughs.
(OOC) Rusty-Gears has all manner of strange facial expressions. Is very good at 'that eyebrow quirk thing'.
(OOC) Blackbird: /:|

At least Maddie was already in a prime position to well receive a headbutt, the crazed mare digging her hooves at the deck planks to meet the impact! A dull thunk of noggins meeting one another rises, Maddie's head tilting to go forehead to forehead with the 'good' pony. All the better to meet eye to eye! As close to a 'power struggle' as one can get! "You don't bore me, little colt, you disgust me! I should've just trampled you last night!"

A sharp upwards jerk of her head, and the Mad Mare attempts to break the painful pressure of one skull to another, instead turning her body to see if she can't plant a swift kick to Blackbird's ribs!

"The match has begun colts! You can feel the heat from that arena from here! That's some intense grudging! And OH! Goodie Two Hooves launches into a headbutt! But Maddie meets him head-on! Who's head do you think is thicker, Sock?"

Sock'em, still beckoning to Rusty, despite her glare, has to turn to his duties. "Oooh that's a tough call, Rock. I mean, some days our Maddie's got a heck of a thick skull, but that new kid doesn't seem too bright in getting all up in her face like that. There's no contest for who the actual stronger pony is here, and I think deep down he knows it! Oop, now Maddie's going for a side kick…!"

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (DO I DAWDGE) — Result: 8 | Sum: 8

Blackbird pushes forehead to forehead with her, until she suddenly jerks away, and he just barely manages to avoid getting a broken rib or two. Instead, her hooves glance rather solidly off his side, leaving what will surely be a bruise. "Oof!" The teacher shakes his head quickly, and runs at Maddie, spinning inexpertly to deliver his own one-two kick to … well, whatever he can reach. "Quit yappin' and get jabbin'!" he wheezes, still a little out of breath from that first hit. Well, he can talk the talk at least. Walking the walk is just a bit different.

Rusty-Gears finds herself admittedly momentarily distracted from the beckoning pony, eyes flicking back to Blackbird quickly at the kick. Oooh, ow. She winces. That looked a bit painful… but he was still standing, so it hopefully isn't too bad. She glances back to Sock'em, hesitating a moment longer before pacing over in that direction. "What?"

One! Two! Two kicks to the Mad Mare! Ah, ah, ah… Despite the relatively weak hit to Blackbird, Maddie lost enough momentium in missing her prime target to be perfectly in line to take both hits square to the head! Three hits so far, this time the mare is sent sprawling, slumped against the center mast! She doesn't fall over though, shaking her head woozily, one cut lip and bruised cheek. She's /grinning/ at Blackbird, turning her good cheek towards the schoolteacher. "You kick like a foal… Do it again! Hit me right here! Make me feel it!"

"Ooooh! That kid's got some speed on him, don't he Rock?" "Sure he does, Sock, not a lot of ponies can get that kind of kick in on the Boss when she's set to rip their throats out! He might well stand a chance after all!" "Aw, don't say that Rock, we don't want the bookies to start lowering his odds yet! Maybe we can get a third opinion… We've got the filly friend of Mr. Goodie Two Hooves here with us now. What do you think? You think he's really got a chance against an experienced fighter?" With that, Rusty is handed the mic!

Blackbird is huffing and puffing, but he stares at Maddie, and grins, and charges. This time, though, he uses forehooves — or rather, the forward momentum of a pounce with forehooves first — to do the damage. "You want it, you got it!" Of course, it's probably pretty easy to dodge.

Suddenly, microphone! Blink. Blinkblink. "What?" She frowned and gave a small snort. "Experienced? Blowhard, maybe. Of course he's got a chance! There's more to a fight than just muscle, you know… no, I suppose you two numbskulls wouldn't know much about that, would you?" she pondered more to herself than them, tilting an ear and stamping one hoof dirisively.
"Wise words from the Expert on Mr. Goodie Two Hooves, folks!" Rock drawls, with Sock leaving the mic in Rusty's care.

Certainly, Blackbird would've been easy to dodge, if Maddie hadn't really meant it! The Mad Mare has ways of living up to her name, since she'd have to be crazy to willingly let forehooves dash her, like she'd put a target square on her face! Even with Blackbird's skinny bulk, it knocks Maddie into the deck, sprawl-legged. She /has/ to be stunned, that's a good four hits to the head at least!

"Are you seeing this, Rock?" "I'm seeing it! The crowd's seeing it! This punk's just going to /town/ on ol' Mad Mare! A headbutt, and all four hooves have officially been cracked on her head! She couldn't possibly get back up after that! Maybe Ms. Expert here was right!"

Blackbird pants, but he looks over at Mad Mare, sprawled on the deck. His ears flick back. Obviously, she's hiding something. Some kind of secret weapon! Still, he's always one to give a fair chance, and he moves over toward her to live up to his new moniker: "Give up yet?" Apparently, he'd rather let her have a chance at him, than kick her while she's down. Which is not to say he's not on his guard, of course. He's ready to dart.

Rusty-Gears turns her gaze back to the ring, ears perked; she looks admittedly surprised when the mare goes down. Not that she doubts Blackbird, at all! No, however naively it might be, she's quite certain he has a plan, and is fully confident in his ability to pull it off. No, it's the Mare she doubts. For how much fair play can you expect from a ring where the only spoken rule is 'whoever gives or dies first loses'?

Give up yet? Mad Mare opens her eyes to those words, staring up at Blackbird, being so… So… Annoyingly…noble, looming over her instead of doing the right thing and ending this fight! Would it have even worked if he had actually done something? Now the world may never know.

"Feh. I don't lose fights unless I wanna…" comes a quiet retort, getting back upright so she can look Blackbird in the eye, and grin. "How'd it feel? Did you feel good just then? Maybe hopeful?" The mare turns her head, giving her neck a couple pops, "I feel better~ It takes a few good hits to get me out of a bad mood sometimes. Now I'm ready!"

She wasn't ready before? So far there hasn't been a lot of action on the Mare's side, and the crowd's getting restless. So much so that a few of them are throwing popcorn into the ring! Rock'em and Sock'em, noticing their co-commentator not commentating, look…crestfallen. Did they really expect her to just be all buddy-buddy?

"Now there's the boss we all know and love, eh Sock? Takes a hit and doesn't give a-" "That's right Rock! Better yet, she's got that look in her eye. You know what that means, right?" Both announcers chime in, "It's weapons time!" "All you psycho ponies in the stands, throw in your favorite toy and let's see who gets to it first!"

(OOC) Rusty-Gears: oh, she'll commentate. Once she's done being a ball of suspicion. XD
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: probably unintentionally, granted. 'rantrantrantrant Oh yeah I have a microphone don't I oops'
(OOC) Mad-Mare: Ahahahaha~

Blackbird snorts, and backs up to give the crazy mare some space. "Certainly didn't expect you to say yes," he retorts, tossing his head. "Bring it." He's ready!

Of course, then there's the mention of weapons, and he whips his head around. What?? He looks to Rusty, eyes widening a little. The thing! The /thing/!
Rusty-Gears blinks, perking her ears and giving a low nicker of annoyance. There it is, there's what she was expecting. Change of rules. Dagnabbit all! And a few less-appropriate comments, some of which were inadvertently muttered into the microphone as she caught his gaze, dancing on her hooves again and putting on a pretty good show of 'oh dang what do I do what do I do' before snatching up his saddlebag and tossing it to him. "Blackbird!" Maybe there was a… particularly heavy book in there or something. Yep. That'd help.

Indeed, weapons! No sooner do the commentating duo mention this than the stands come alive with such cheering! And then…the weapons. Like someone opened a portal to the most chaotic battlefield on the planet, objects of many types begin to rain down from the stands, clunking all around the battling pair! Blunt objects, sharp objects, pointy objects galore quickly make venturing anywhere away from the center of the arena tricky lest one step on something hazardous. Not even just things that could be classified as weapons, there's plenty of other things getting tossed out there too! The arena is officially a dump!

Which pleases Maddie. Back in her element, the Mad Mare hardly feels this is any change of the rules. After all, they're supplying weapons to /both/ fighters. That's fair, right? She bounds off into the rain of deadly implements, one graceful leap catching one of her favored toys out of the air! Knife handle caught in her teeth, the bladed edge sticking off to the side, Maddie makes a sharp u-turn, very much intent on her target, one Mr. Blackbird. Knife joust!

"Isn't it beautiful, Rock?" "Like a heavenly rain of death, Sock. It's the signature of our grudgematches, no pony can withstand the lure of throwing something into the ring." "Do you remember that time we sponsored that brawl at the orphanage?" "You mean the Teddy Bear Massacre? I didn't know you could knock someone out with one, let alone what happened there!" "See? Even our special guest announcer can't resist throwing something in! I wonder what's in those bags, Sock." "I guess we're about to find out. But will it help Mr. Goodie Two Shoes before Mad Mare cuts him to ribbons?"

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (Buckle up!) — Result: 3 | Sum: 3

(OOC) Blackbird: Oof! XD
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: Don't get killed, Blackbird.
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: Sadaka would Q.Q
(OOC) Blackbird will do his best :(
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: and I'm not entirely sure I want to find out what happens if Sadaka wishes up a zombie-pony.
(OOC) Blackbird …ahahaha XD
(OOC) Mad-Mare: Mmmm, zombie pony…
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: Sadaka | 'I want Mr. Blackbird baaaaack! Q.Q' Manyara | '…Oh dear.'
(OOC) Mad-Mare: Would she make Sadaka sign a waiver? :o
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: she'd try to talk her out of it. But having to be subtle and mysterious does not take well to trying to talk to a sad little filly about the realities of lost loved ones. :(
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: besides… she's a zebra. of course one would wish for some sort of voodoo eventuall. :/
(OOC) Mad-Mare: Oh of course.
(OOC) Blackbird XD
(OOC) Mad-Mare: So it'd be Sadaka with a voodoo remote to Mr. ZombieBird.

Blackbird sprints toward the bag, trying not to get hit by something terrible in the hail of weapons. Instead, he skids over and tumbles with the bag in his mouth, and pulls out… What is that thing? It looks like someone pasted together a cobbled assortment of metal /stuff/. There are a few vents jammed in here and there, and some boxes, a few screws, and is that a mixer attachment? There are two more obvious attachments, though: some belts hang down from one part, while a handle juts out at another, like an angled slot machine handle, or half of a handlebar to a buggy. It, like the colt and filly, seems to be smudged in grease.

Now that it's in his mouth, he does his best to try and get it /on/, but hurrying does not make it easy. Especially with a crazy syndimare advancing on him with a knife. He struggles, but in the end he doesn't quite have it on and fitted before he has to bolt, and just try to keep ahead of his pursuer and to get those straps settled right. It's sort of like putting on pants while you hop down the hallway, and just about as awkward!

(OOC) Mad-Mare: Rocketpony~
(OOC) Blackbird: Colt/filly, stallion/mare. WHATEVER. I never keep them straight.
(OOC) Blackbird pshooooo!
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: did Rusty put a mixer on it? I'll bet Rusty put a mixer on it.
(OOC) Blackbird: I'm betting yes. XD
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: and at the time I'm sure she had a perfectly compelling reason!
(OOC) Mad-Mare snicker~
(OOC) Blackbird: There is a totally compelling reason. Which will be revealed when he gets to actually use it!

"Come on, come oooon…" and the pinto hops up and down nervously, whatever is in her own bags clinking awkwardly. Well, one clinked. The string just flopped about. She stilled herself, snorted, ran in a circle, paused. Eyes on the ring. "Oh, come /on/! Seriously? Someone threw a perfectly good socket wrench… who threw that? Sure you can whack someone good with it, but what a /waste/! I'm taking that wrench." Because apparently she's completely forgotten about the microphone at this point.

Oh. Yeah. Something more important going on. NO DISTRACTIONS. She gave herself a shake, stamping her hooves and moving her attention back to the now-scrambling Blackbird. He needed a minute. And just like that, she remembered one of the things she'd hoped she'd get to do today.

Into the clinking saddlebag her muzzle went, and came back out with a gleaming, circular… is that a sawblade? O,o Yes, yes, that's pretty much exactly what it is. And into the air the sawblade goes! In a shockingly well-aimed arc right over Blackbird's head and, hopefully, towards the knife-weilding mare! Or just past her THUNK into the mizzenmast. Y'know, either one will do. DISTRACTIONS!

Mad-Mare rolls 1d10 (SAW!) — Result: 7 | Sum: 7

Surely the footing is beyond trecherous by now, though the hail of death slows once most of the crowd's thrown their two cents, or dagger, or whatever's in the ring. Probably a good thing too, it's almost as dangerous to trot as it is to stop and fight! Maddie, of course, has no intention of slowing down, especially now that Blackbird's doing something Really Weird! Is that a… …Naw… But still, whatever it is, Maddie doesn't like it! As they pass the center mast, the Syndimare makes a daring leap, planting all four hooves on the side of the mast for a split-second, and rebounding in a flying pounce at the strap-struggling pony!

…Unfortunately for Maddie, this puts her right in the path of a suddenly oncoming sawblade! Crazed eyes widen, the Mad Mare forced to defend herself with the only tool available, head turning to just deflect the sawblade with the knife in her mouth! While the impact doesn't quite knock her off-track of trying to pounce a poor Blackbird, it did have the effect of confusing the mare, and forcing her to do so without a sharp pointy instrument to stick in the teacherpony's back! Not to mention the brief shower of hair as the blade manages to slice through the lower half of her tail in the process, before successfully burying into the mast, ringing with the impact. Well played, Rusty… Well played…

"Rock? What /is/ that?" "Um… Well Sock it reminds me a lot of momma's kitchen." "Yeah… I can see that. It's got everything but the sink, doesn't it!" Then the sawblade goes flying, Mad Mare almost gets her head taken off, and jaws drop all around. "Whoa…" both the commentators breathe, when the potential 'end' of the fight does not quite happen. "That was almost as bad as that one grudge match between Hardhat and Whiplash!" "Poor, poor Whiplash. Y'know I visited him before we came out here." "Oh yeah? How was he doing?" "I talked about the weather, and he drooled on his crayons. I think he's improving though, I mean they gave him crayons." "Poor Whiplash…"

Commentary or gossip? You decide!

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (BUCKLESSSS) — Result: 7 | Sum: 7
Blackbird rolls 1d10 (How bad is Maddy's hit?) — Result: 2 | Sum: 2

(OOC) Mad-Mare: Like a baby's pat.
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: Pumpkin baby or Pound baby, 'cause Pound Cake…

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (How fast can you run, boy?) — Result: 1 | Sum: 1

(OOC) Blackbird facepalm.
(OOC) Rusty-Gears: XD oh Blackbird.
(OOC) Mad-Mare: About as hard as I can hit!

Blackbird has three hooves in place, but he's still struggling as he runs. While Maddy doesn't actually manage to assault him with the knife, she does fall into him and trip him up just as he's getting the last strap in place. "Ha-ha!!" he crows, triumphant for that teeny tiny second of victory… before Mare has fallen on him in that half-pounce. His attempt to run trips up his hooves, and he goes down in a heap.

Which would be fine, if he hadn't gone down in a heap on a spiked bat.

The nails in the bat puncture flesh, and he yelps in pain, especially with a murderous mare still on top, even if it's sans knife. Struggle though he might, it's not doing him much good. So, the best he can do is grab the handle in his teeth — which sits conventiently right there — and yank down.

Whattattattattattta! The beater on the end of the strange contraption starts to whir, pointed at Mad. And it starts to whir very fast. But for now? It just seems to be a pleasant fan.

Triumph at the successful fling — well, it disarmed her anyways — got a cheery whoop from Rusty, though it turned into a yelp when Blackbird fell. She shouted his name and looked about ready to dart into the ring herself, pointy minefield be darned.

Honestly, Maddie's as surprised as Blackbird is at their current situation. What, with her now weaponless, with half a tail, and pleasantly fanned. Blackbird's yelping at least brings a grin to the mare, spotting the spiked bat, getting a fresh coat of crimson! It's not a knife, but… "Now isn't /this/ cute. I finally catch you, and I don't even get the pleasure of first blood! But that's okay. Second and third blood's just as good~" Completely ignoring the fan (at what may be her peril), she elects instead to attempt to aggrivate the new injury while she's got BB pinned down, using forehooves to reach for the bat, intent to lift it up and see how many more holes she can beat into him!

"Oh my Rock, this doesn't look good! Even with that /awesome/ move by Goodie's filly friend, Maddie's still got him pinned down!" "Yep, she's about to turn him into a pincushion with that bat! Y'know, even if the spikey bludgeoning doesn't take him out, I doubt those rusty nails have ever been cleaned!" "I think he's got a little more to worry about right now than an infection, Rock…"

Blackbird grunts, and though it's a totally awkward position, his attempts to get /off/ the pointy nails are what let Maddie grab the bat. But rather than lay down quietly, he sinks his teeth into her leg, biting as hard as his little herbavore teeth can manage.

Meanwhile, the beater starts letting off a high-pitched whine. Sparks start to crackle at its base, only to genuinely arc electricity between the arms. And then? BOOOOOSH. An enormous torrent of electricity zaps out, right at Maddie and her upraised bat.

Mad-Mare rolls 1d10 (How Bad Was It?) — Result: 2 | Sum: 2

Rusty-Gears has already picked her way a good few steps into the arena when the lightning gun finally starts to work; the crackling sounds get her attention enough to slow up her pace. "…Ha! It works!" This excites her enough to nearly get a little skip out of her, buuuuut… this is not the place one wants to go bouncing around.

Mad Mare has just enough time to open her eyes wide as dinner plates, that crackling electric-shooter catching her just as she had the spiked bat lifted up high! Everyone /knows/ how well metal conducts electricity and all, those nails acting like a great lightning rod to give Maddie a good jolt! Such was the torrent that it blows her back, right along the same trajectory she'd taken to land atop the hapless stallion…

…Right back to Mr. Sawblade.

The crowd gasps, going silent at the point of impact, including the announcers at the table. "…That has to be the closest shave she's ever had, Rock." Sock'em finally chirps up, Rock'em only nodding dumbly.

Maddie, post impact with the mast, has to struggle to get back up at all, her pelt smoking in places, standing amid a shower of what was once her mane. She's just lucky she didn't get blasted any higher or she would've lost an ear. Or worse! As it is, electric jitters are horrible, one of her eyes twitching, trying to focus on Blackbird. More stunned than hurt, honestly, but the mare now knows that contraption is no joke! With the bat still crackling leftover static arcs, Maddie carefully picks it up in her teeth, gives herself a quick, if jerky spin once…twice…on the third spin releasing the lethal implement back at the plucky Blackbird!

Now the crowd's back to cheering too, what with the fight still on and all. It's just getting good! "Sock, I'm starting to wonder if our boss is really a pony and not some kind of weird sub-pony creature from Tartaurus." "Yeah… i know what you mean, Rock. I know what you mean."

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (Boomerbat!) — Result: 4 | Sum: 4
Blackbird rolls 1d10 (Lightnang) — Result: 10 | Sum: 10

Blackbird staggers to his feet, panting, as blood seeps into his coat from the punctures. Not too much, not yet. But he's sure not pristine and white anymore. (…Though, not that he was anyway, with all that grease. What's white and black and red all over? A schoolteacher, apparently.) He shakes himself off, puffing, and grabs the handle to yank it down again. The device is already warmed up, so it whirs, it crackles, it —

—goes wildly off course, mostly because the bat has swung back around and nailed him (pun intended) in the face. He lets out another cry, but the jerk of his body is what sends the lightning sizzling away from Maddie and…into the mast above instead. And hard.

"Blackbird!" Okay, screw this 'picking your way slowly' thing. Ignoring the sharp stabby bits as well as she could, Rusty scrambled over towards the professor. Granted, she had no clue what she intended to do when she got there. 'Help' was the general idea. 'How', though, was a plan she was still working on, as the arc of lightning lit up the ship and cracked loudly as it slammed into the mast.

Mad-Mare rolls 1d10 (Where's the mast land?) — Result: 2 | Sum: 2
Mad-Mare rolls 1d10 (How about Mr. Buzzsaw?) — Result: 3 | Sum: 3

Kra-KOW! Vicious lightning! Enough to surely fry any poor pony in their fancy little horseshoes! But Maddie is lucky! At least somewhat. For the lightning strike missed her, slamming into the mast at the best conductor, Mr. Buzzsaw! The wood splinters and buckles like so much plywood. One would never guess it were thick as a bloody tree! It buckles, bends, comes crashing down into the deck, the sail-laden end dipping into the water, breaking on the boat and leaving a huge mess of the arena. Good thing the mast fell towards the open end of the arena, or there'd be a lot of squished ponies!

Of course, Maddie isn't quite so lucky as the spectators. Almost as if Blackbird had intended to misfire that lightning bolt, part of the splintered mast comes down on the now-shrieking Mad Mare, pinning her down in the wreckage of weapons and wood. Laying her out like a big ol' bullseye for that sawblade when it, after having been flung way up into the sky from that lightning blast, is coming back down like a gleaming metal missile. Guess where the bullseye is?

With falling wood and mast, one would think the stands would have cleared out! But… Well, they're a dedicated lot. A few of the weaker stomachs ran screaming, but a lot of the hardcore grudgematch ponies are still watching! This is the BEST part!

"Oh wow Rock. I think this is really /really/ it for the Mad Mare this time! I can't believe how tricky that Hero guy is!" "No kidding. Sock, d'you think he has a fan club?" "Doesn't everypony?"

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (HEROICS) — Result: 3 | Sum: 3

(OOC) Rusty-Gears: hmmm… would Rusty attempt heroics herself…

Blackbird rolls 1d10 (AND MORE HEROICS) — Result: 10 | Sum: 10

(OOC) Rusty-Gears: looks like Blackbird epicly succeeds in those heroics.
(OOC) Blackbird: Apparently. Goodness. ._.
(OOC) Mad-Mare: Such a hero~

The schoolteacher looks up, as the mast starts to crack, buckle, and bend. The next thing he sees is that Rusty is running toward him. The mast is coming down, and he can't quite extrapolate its projectory — but he knows it'll be close, too close. He breaks into a run, leaps, and tackles Rusty, sending the both of them falling away from the crashing mast.

Maddy is not so lucky. She's pinned, the sawblade is arcing up into the sky, and Blackbird has just enough sense left in his noggin to be a stupid dang hero. He grabs a mace from its place on the deck and with a flick of his head he flings it. The wind must be with him tonight or something, because it sails straight at that sawblade as it's swinging down… and sends it flinging off into the side of the boat instead. Right next to a pony in the stands who stiffens up and gapes at it, fur shaved off his arm from the near impact.

Rusty-Gears yelps as she's suddenly tackled, toppling into the mass of sharp things — but out of the way of the mast, so that seems like a fair enough trade-off. She blinks and winces, flinching down as the mast crashes to the side, then peeks back up timidly. "…Are we dead? I hope we're not dead."

The crisp sound of metal on metal can be heard over the diminishing crash of a fallen mast and screaming crowd, the mace landing with a dull thunk a couple feet from Maddie's head. She manages to struggle her way out from under the rubble, now that the threat of iminent sawblade is gone from the equation, Maddie rising from the ruins of her mast like some shipwrecked zombie. She looks…confused. That should have been /it/. But it wasn't. She's still whole, and her opponent's still whole, and…

"Why'd you do that?" she whispers without realizing Blackbird can't hear it that way. Her pupils are mere points amid a sea of white, the off-white Syndimare wading out from the wooden wreckage towards the pair. "Why did you do that?" she repeats, stronger this time, voice tinged with a curious mixture of hysteria and rage. "Why? WHY? You could have won!" She breaks into a full gallop, so…angry and confused that she's practically on an insane sort of autopilot. "Get off my ship! Get out! Get ooooooout!"

"Well Rock, that was quite the exciting match, wasn't it?" "Yeah… And we didn't get hurt this time!" "Always a bright side, eh?"

Blackbird pants, and staggers up, trying to help Rusty up as well. It's not easy, since he's more than a little tired now. Mad's question gets a blink from the stallion, and he looks over at her, as if he doesn't quite know what to think. But rage lights right back at her, wounded and confused. "Hey! I saved your life! I think that merits a bit better than—" Oh, but she's yelling louder. Crazily, even. His ears flatten and he takes a step back. "On second thought, maybe we should run," he says to Rusty. Yep.

Rusty-Gears staggers to her hooves a bit, giving herself a firm shake that rattled the metallic probably-more-sawblades in her saddlebags. "Whoo. Okay, I think we're not dead." She looks around the current mess that was previously a… well, not exactly pristine ship, but a ship nonetheless. She gave a low whistle. "Wow. That… could've gone worse?" She glanced over at Blackbird. "Are you okay?"

But pleasantries would have to wait, because the Mare was ranting and raving now. Oooh… dear. Yeah. 'Run' sounded a good idea. "…That might be wise, yes."

Speaking of running…

The crowd's clearing out, and things are quite a bit chaotic between some ponies looking for their 'favorite' weapon among the mess of shrapnel, wood, and deadly instruments of death, and the other ponies who are running back to their ships so they can get unhooked from the mast-wrecked one. And then the Mad Mare herself, who'd be breathing fire if she knew how to pull it off, head lowered and body at full-tilt, locked on Blackbird and Rusty. "Get oooooout!" she howls again, "I didn't ask to be saved! I don't want your pity! I don't need anyone's pity! I don't need anyone!"

Blackbird lets out a breath, looking back at Rusty. He'd answer, but it's time to run. He nods to the direction of the gangplank, and makes a run for it, so long as Rusty's able to be running too. With a tug of his mouth, he disengages the whirling blenderator, setting the crackling back into nothingness as they beat it far away from the crazy dang mare.

"Well, I don't think that counts as us winning," he offers breathlessly, as they run, "but at least we're not dead! Right? Right??"

Rusty-Gears gallops after him, doing her best not to limp or stumble over any remaining sharp things. "I'd say 'not dead' is a very nice perk!" she responded, as cheerily as possible under the circumstances. "Maybe we can call it a draw!"

As the pair of heroic ponies exit off the gangplank, the moment they step off the whole thing's kicked free of the boat, splashing into the water to join the rest of the debris that's probably made a royal mess of more than just the ship itself. The Mad Mare, being she who kicked the plank, stays at the edge of her ship, screaming her fool head off into the night at the fleeing duo.

She screams for a good half the night, the sounds fading only when her throat gives out…

The perfect end to a perfect day!