5617/Tourney/Black Sky: Who Wants to Live Forever Anyway

Tourney/Black Sky: Who Wants to Live Forever Anyway
Date of Scene:	21 October 2018
Location:	Kairos Island
Synopsis:	Elektra takes lethal action to keep Black Sky out of the grip the Hand.
Cast of Characters:	Elektra, Lady Shiva, Daredevil
Tinyplot:	Tourney
Tinyplot2:	Black Sky

---

Elektra has posed:
It was done.

The Tournament had run it's course - as crazy as it had been - and a winner had been declared. She and Matt had had an evening to say goodbye, bittersweet as it was. Though they'd always been the couple forever almost touching fingertips through glass and never making contact. Not truly. Life just hadn't been that kind to them. And this evening, though she hadn't said it, they both knew what it was: Goodbye.

She leaves him sleeping, and walks alone down to the dojo, following the path that wends itself down into the ravine behind the villa, hidden away from sight by a line of trees.

Once inside, she begins the ritual of lighting the braziers and the candles, stopping at each elemental altar and paying respects.

It wasn't so much that she believed as the ritual soothed her. The ritual, like her fighting, left her in a place of calm. In control of herself. Centered. Focused.

She would need that now.

She waits for Lady Shiva to arrive.

You can only stop the inevitable for so long.

Lady Shiva has posed:
All had their place in the world. All had their role to play.

For some, it was to be the hero. Even though they chose the devil for their costume, they were still fighting on the side of the angels. They used their gifts to help make the world a safer place for others. So many of them, from the costumed to the officer on the street. Their path was chosen and followed, despite the challenges or temptations put in their way.

There were the shadows, those who were in the gray between the good and bad. Sometimes they had to do bad things in order to do good. Sometimes they had to give everything of themselves to do their best work. Their path was perhaps the most difficult, being neither villain or hero.

The final role was perhaps the simplest. Some chose to be villains for profit. Some chose it for revenge. Then there were those that had reasoning few or none could comprehend. This was the category into which Shiva fell. The woman who had named herself after the goddess when she took her first steps on her path.

She arrived a few minutes after all the braziers and candles were lit, casting a peaceful glow through the dojo. When she entered, she was not dressed in her usual attire. Instead, it was a simple bodysuit in black with a red sash at the waist. Before stepping into the dojo, she stepped out of her black slippers, so she could enter on bare feet. Her hands were uncovered and there were no signs of weapons.

"Elektra. You know why I am here."

Elektra has posed:
Elektra notes that she is not alone, but makes no move to turn yet, knelt as she is in the middle of the floor. How she's chosen to wait her fate. After a moment she bows her head over her clasped hands - fist in palm - and rises to her feet, *now* turning to her guest.

"Yes. I know why you are here. All things come to an end, and it is time."

She seems utterly calm about the fact. Freed, even. When you can no longer escape your destiny, you embrace it, and for Elektra, it may be the first time in all the memories she holds, where she has felt this freedom. She no longer has anything to lose.

It was a revelation.

Lady Shiva has posed:
Shiva stands just inside the dojo door until Elektra acknowledges her. There will be no attacking while she isn't looking. This isn't an ambush. There is ritual involved for her as well.

"Then we shall begin. Elektra, I challenge you." Her reputation proceeds her. When she makes a challenge to a master, if she finds that master wanting, they tend to not live through the encounter.

Then she moved into the room, feet silent as she walks across the wooden floor to the center of the room in front of Elektra. There she pauses, eyes to The Fist that leads the hand. Slowly she bows at the hips, never looking away. When she returns to a verticle position, she shifts her stance. Now she is bladed away from the woman, presenting a smaller target. One hand is extended with one finger elevated, thumb tucked to the center of her hand, palm toward Elektra. The other hand is kept low at her side, curled into a fist.

Then she waits.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra knows how it goes. Or how it sometimes goes. There's a certain amount of ritual and respect that accompanies certain opponents or situations. And given that she wasn't here to deliver even an attempted hit on the other, Elektra was content to bid her time that things were done properly. Waiting until she turns to address the woman. Waiting until the challenge is issued before taking a stance.

"I accept your challenge," Elektra intones quietly. It was well known what happened to the losers of such a fight, or at least with this particular opponent.

As Shiva settled into her stance, Elektra considers first moves. She wasn't about to posture, but she also wasn't about to disrespect either of them or their training by merely throwing the fight either.

"As challenger, I chose to use my weapons of choice. Do you find fault with that?"

She awaits the answer, not moving into stance or drawing her sai before then.

Lady Shiva has posed:
The respect is recognized and appreciated. Too few don't give that and it seals their fate before the fight even begins.

In truth, Shiva doesn't go into a fight knowing if she will or will not kill her opponent. It is all based on the actions of the person. If they do not show respect, it is likely they will die. If they are a false master who has misled their students, they will not live to spread their bogus teachings to others again. But if they are one who makes all the right choices, has something to share with the woman who has learned so much in her decades of wandering the Earth? Then they may live to see another day.

"You are welcome to use any weapon you wish. If you prefer, I shall arm myself though it is not my first choice."

Elektra has posed:
The barest hint of a smile touches upon Elektra's lips. Really, if you had to die, there were worse ways to go than this. Lady Shiva was a master beyond compare. There was a reason Elektra had chosen her and not another, though there had been other choices she had considered.

"No. I would have you use the weapons of your preference." With careful deliberation, she draws her sai, fliping them through her fingers, getting a feel for the balance of them before she settles into her stance - not quite so bladed as Lady Shiva's, but it has its own element of guarding. However, unlike the other, her strength was in launching out with the extension of her body that the sai provided - it required more movement and space. A reaching out, not the drawing in of the other.

"I would be honoured to meet your empty hands."

And with that, she gives a nod, denoting she is ready. That the fight can begin in earnest now.

Lady Shiva has posed:
The sai gives her more range when she strikes. Though a sai was generally a defensive weapon, Elektra had mastered using them as offensive ones. Few, if any, were her equal with that weapon.

Shiva knew this well. Though she still preferred to fight with no weapons herself, it didn't mean there was no respect for the danger that brought to this battle.

It was one of the few times in her life that Shiva felt that thrill. When she knew she was facing someone who may just be able to beat her. That there might be an end to her quest for enlightenment. Elektra might be the one.

Once that nod was given, Shiva was in motion. She drove forward, a series of punches and strikes, all expertly blocked by Elektra. It was answered in turn by the woman, forcing Shiva to take the defensive as she used the movements to push the blows away, the momentum of the punches used against Elektra. The hand with the sai was her focus, keeping it from finding her flesh.

Then they parted, circling quietly in the floor, neither's breathing increased. This wasn't the battle yet. They were simply testing, feeling each other out before the fight would escalate.

The testing showed them both one thing: There would be no holding back in this fight if they wished to survive.

Elektra has posed:
There was a certain gloriousness to it all. With the earlier freedom, now there came the thrill of meeting someone truly worth the engagement. Few and far between evoked that feeling from the bored assassin. She'd always found her thrill in not getting caught, in flirting with the danger of the legality (and lack thereof) of what she did.

This, though, was different. Each move demanded a counter. Each counter demanded a response - and they had barely warmed up.

Even though she knew the outcome of this fight, Elektra couldn't refuse to rise to the challenge of that struggle to survive. Though, if Shiva could hold nothing back in order to walk away alive, Elektra would hold nothing back, forcing her opponent to earn that kill.

And if, instead, she walked away at the end? Then perhaps they would write another story, she and Stick and Matt.

There is a pause. Only long enough to acknowledge that the testing out was over, and had not been found wanting, and then Elektra is on the offensive, a flurry of strikes and spins, with blows aimed for points both vital, and to keep her opponent on edge - forcing Shiva to take the defensive as often as possible, and away from moves best suited to her open handed style. Now that they had tested the edges of one another, Elektra knew where she would push Shiva to.

She expected retaliation in kind.

Lady Shiva has posed:
To say that Elektra was an artist was an understatement. Every movement was graceful despite it'd deadly intent. Shiva countered, protected against the assault. A block of a strike, forearms slapping loudly together as they didn't pull the blows. It was all out, full physical contact. A spinning kick sending Shiva ducking below only to have to step back to avoid that sai slitting her open at the midriff. Bringing up an arm to drive down a front kick then dodging another of those sai strikes.

The movements were fast, a blur of motion, almost too fast for the eye to follow. It was a moment of perfection, that dance between them.

Then it was Shiva's turn.

She had a measure of her opponent now and she used it to her advantage. One of the most dangerous things about Shiva was she learned as she fought. Many people did but for her, it was a literal thing. She was gifted with the ability to read movement, to notice the tightening of a tendon there that meant the arm would be driving forward. Atop this, she was a prodigy and could learn a move just by seeing it. It is how she had learned so much in her years. It was why she attended tourneys such as this as every match had been watched and she learned all of the opponents skill sets and took them for her own.

She drove forward now, forcing Elektra back on the defensive. Each blow was avoided by blocking or dodging but this time, Shiva didn't stop. She kept forcing Elektra to keep in that defensive stance, not giving her an opportunity to take the offense again. Then it happened. First blood.

Only it wasn't Elektra's. It was Shiva's. She miscalculated and that sai snuck forward, slicing through the material of her bodysuit at the shoulder. If she hadn't turned her body just so, she would've taken the sai through her instead of the glancing blow. A hint of red marked the spot where the sai had sliced.

It was rare for anyone to ever manage a hit on Shiva. Not only a hit, but to draw blood.

It brought a smile to Shiva's lips.

Elektra has posed:
Elektra knew this dance. And she knew her weapon well. It wasn't just a virtual extension of her body, it was a literal one. She'd learned to treat her sai as though it were connected as deeply to herself as though it were her own heartbeat or skin.

When she struck out with them, it was her body moving in fluid motion. A dance of skill and tactics across the dojo floor. Every move, every decision, being made at lightning speeds.

In Shiva, Elektra truly had an opponent without compare, and she rose to the challenge of it. Regretful, almost, that here, now that her life was about to end, she had finally found someone worthy of exactly this fight. Regretful that now, now that things were coming to an end, that she'd understood, maybe where her boredom had always come from, and what the answer could have been instead.

And then Shiva is driving her back. Taking her own moves against her, and forcing Elektra to display the best defensive qualities of her weapon, blows being traded in flurries that put shame to all the fights she'd ever had before.

When she strikes flesh, and grazed her sai across Shiva's skin, Elektra was surprised. Both in that she'd breached the others defenses, but in that the exquisite dance of the thing - this thing they were writing across the floor of the dojo - had been interrupted by an irregular beat. An anomally.

She doesn't let the surprised stop her, though, tking advantage of that moment to push. An answering smile upon her lips.

If you had to die, it was a glorious way to go.

Lady Shiva has posed:
The push after that drawing of blood was expected. Shiva had seen the surprise, that tiny hesitation that gave away the reaction. It was fleeting but it was there. Elektra hadn't expected to score the hit. It happened at times though. Shiva was skilled but she wasn't always unscathed.

Now though, Shiva had the measure of her opponent. She knew the bite of that sai. It was time to finish this. It wasn't something she wanted to prolong and she doubted Elektra did, despite the pleasure inherent in facing a skilled opponent.

As Elektra took that chance to go for another hit, Shiva stepped inside her guard. This took the sai out of the equation for the moment. In close, she brought a fist toward Elektra's left cheek and the feel of flesh striking flesh was satisfying. The sound of it filled the quiet dojo.

She wasn't done though. As Elektra recovered from the blow and was bringing up her other arm to counter, Shiva placed both the heels of each hand together as she focused her chi. Tighter, pinpointed into the open palms aimed at Elektra's chest, fingers verticle above and below her palms in an open strike.

With a loud KIYAI, she brought her hands forward and channeled her chi into it. The blow struck true in the center of Elektra's chest. It was enough to send her flying backwards about ten feet, likely cracking one or two ribs from the impact.

Elektra has posed:
There would be no rehashing of this fight later. No pulling it apart to see where things had gone right or wrong. To ponder the surprise of that moment when her sai struck true and drew blood. And it had been a surprise. Lady Shiva was almost beyond compare. While slips could and did happen from time to time, they were the rarity.

If she'd had time beyond this, Elektra would have learned from this fight - possibly fathoms more than her prior teachers had instilled within her.

Instead, her flurry of attacks is countered, and there is nothing but the sudden strike of flesh on flesh, snapping her head back. Not unexpected, and she'd been well trained to come back from such a thing.

However, the blast of chi-force to her chest was not a thing she could have predicted, and even had she, there was no counter she knew. Especially not while she still reeled and regrouped from that fist strike to the jaw. The skin where Shiva's hit had landed was already bruising. But more, Elektra is thrown clear across the fight area of the dojo, sliding into one of the shadows that falls between the pools of light the candles offer the room.

She's quick to flip back to her feet, her sai no longer in hand, having been tossed from her between blast and flight. No matter, though, she'd been trained not to rely upon a weapon - any weapon - over herself.

'Be the weapon, child,' Stick had intoned in his gravelly voice more times than she could count. 'Use whatever is on hand, but never forget the weapon is you. Not the other way around'

Elektra re-enters the circle of the fight, flipping towards her opponent. There is no surprise she can give. The fight is in earnest now. The end, she knows, should come soon. It's written in every fibre of her opponent.

Lady Shiva has posed:
The acrobatic attack may have been a good ploy against most opponents. It had been at one time against Shiva. Unfortunately, she had a new student of her own and his style relied heavily on acrobatics that would put most people on the planet to shame. He was human but one would think he was more to see him in action.

Her fight with him had her ready to counter. As Elektra closed, fists and feet flying in their attacks, Shiva managed to counter each. A knee coming up fast for a strike to her side was pushed away. A fist toward her head, dodged easily.

As another blow came forward, she reaches out and captured that arm, grasping the wrist. As Elektra moved to try and gain leverage and the position for a throw, Shiva stepped to the outside of that arm so that she wouldn't gain the stance needed for a throw. Then she fired a blow toward the elbow, meant to break the arm.

Somehow Elektra shifted enough to avoid the break. Shiva still had that arm though and she turned her body, almost back to back. Then she drew that arm toward herself, a side throw trying to get Elektra on to the ground.

Elektra has posed:
The counters were good. Beyond good, in fact. They weren't just expectant things, they were well thought out. Decisive. Precise, and with another, would have been devastating to the attack. However, Elektra wasn't another, and while she is countered, it doesn't stop her attacks.

When her arm is grabbed, the woman is prepared, using moves of her own to avoid the worst of the inevitable - she already knows she won't break the clasp Shiva has on her arm, but she can avoid the shattering of the bone. Elektra using the strength of that elbow joint to her own advantage as she moves past the strike, and twists away from it, leaving her back to Shiva, intent upon throwing the other woman over her back, and using that momentum to break free of the grip on her arm.

However, she's no awareness of Shiva's most recent fights, or that the woman has absorbed moves that are past Elektra's skillset to avoid. And while she had intended to go down with Shiva with that throw, aiming to use her elbow for a body strike, it's Elektra who goes down solo, flipped to her back, lying there looking up at her opponent.

It was then that she knew it. Elektra knew, looking up at Shiva, that things had gone from an exchange of blows and display of skills, to nothing more than what this had been from the start: Her death.

"Finish it," Elektra says, the words an angry hiss of sound as she waits for the inevitable. Wanting less now - no more moments. No more counters. No more exchanges. Nothing but what she knew needed to be done. That's what Elektra wants now, and she nods up at Shiva, repeating her request, her anger at the fruitlessness of it all fleeing ahead of resignation, "Finish it."

Lady Shiva has posed:
For a moment, Shiva holds her gaze. There is a moment. The respect is there. That Elektra is facing this without fear. That she accepts her fate. That she doesn't try to back away or beg for mercy. She just asks. Nay, demands, that this play out as it was always going to.

Her right hand is brought back, fingers curled but hand straight. The Leopard Blow is her signature move, as the sai was Elektra's signature weapon. The blow was generally aimed for the head of the victim and crushed the skull, sometimes actually going through the head of the person.

Her chi is focused once more as she lets out another of those cries, the kiyai there to help her channel her power into the strike.

One moment she was poised. Then next, the hand flashed foward and the strike landed soundly on Elektra's chest.

It broke bone. Yet, that wasn't all. With her skill, Shiva was able to break the bones in such a way that the shards entered the heart of Elektra. The adrenaline in her body likely made it less painful than it might have been but there was no doubt it was fatal. Elektra would have a few moments and nothing more.

"You were a worthy opponent," Shiva states simply in a very low voice as she draws her hand away. "Rest well. You have earned it."

Then she stands, stepping away from her fallen opponent.

Elektra has posed:
It had all come down to this, then. All the moments of her planning, her setting things in motion, hoping that the pieces wouldn't begin to fall or topple before the last bits were put into place had narrowed down onto this singular moment.

Elektra saw it in Shiva's eyes, that moment of given respect, even before the words are said.

Knows that the blow will be coming.

And while it is expected, and ineveitable, nothing could have prepared her for the moment when Shiva's fist struck her chest, shattering the bones there, sending shards of rib into her heart - a perfect circle of needle thin slivers that pierce and stab through the still beating organ, leaving her life force to eke out with every increasingly halting beat.

There's a small surprised 'oh' of sound from Elektra as it, surprisingly, doesn't hurt. Nor does it seem like the violence of the act remains behind that single strike. It's all so very peaceful as she lies there, blinking up at Shiva.

"Thank-you," she murmurs, her gaze slipping from the other, and rising to the peaked ceiing of the dojo, where curls of blue-grey smoke have gathered, waiting to dissipate and give offerings to the elements. Much as Elektra's spirit will soon do.

Daredevil has posed:
Matt had known the moment he woke up in his bed alone. It was happening now. He barely had time to pull on his suit before he lept from his balcony and sprinted towards the dojo. There was no question if that was where it would happen, she'd shown it to him for a reason.

As he sprinted, leapt and tumbled towards the dojo he other more treacherous thoughts came to mind, maybe she showed him so he'd stop it maybe there was some other way...

He ran faster.

Until the dojo entered the range of his senses, he could feel her inside, her and someone else, a woman. Gao? No, stronger, taller, someone familiar but one he'd not spent enough time with to pin down at a distance.

He sprints the last few meters, and leaps, crashing through the rice paper door at the critical moment when the blow struck home. He heard the crunch of Elektra's ribs like gunshots, smelt the copper of her blood mixing with the sweat and incense that permeated the room, the slowing of her heartbeat.

"No," he shouts, rushing to her, kneeling so he could cradle her in his arms. "No," he repeats. "No, no, no. Elektra, no, please don't go," he says, his heart in his throat, eyes burning with unshed tears. "Please." He reaches for her hand.

Elektra has posed:
Matt's run to the dojo is not missed, but word had already been spread that while nothing should be allowed to interfere with what was going on within its walls, a singular exception was to be made: Daredevil.

There were some grumbles, and questioning out of Madame Gao's earshot, but as in all things Gao, the minions did as they were told and allowed the man to pass.

So it is that he finds Elektra on the floor of the dojo, slowly drowning in her own blood. Each breath a little more difficult than the last.

"Matthew," she coughs, her tones both saddened and relieved. She'd not really wanted to die alone, but neither had she wanted to put him through this moment. "You should be sleeping. I.."

The lie won't come, so she leaves it.

"I'm glad you're here. It's too late though. There's nothing you can do now. Just hold me? I'm so cold."

Flecks of pink foam begin to form at the corners of her mouth.

Daredevil has posed:
He takes her hand, he pulls his glove off before taking her hand, squeezing it tight. "I'm here Elektra," he says.

His mind was sill racing, trying to find solutions. Claire was here, maybe she could...

His senses told him it was useless. Elektra was dying he could hear her lungs filling with blood and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He cries then, tears escaping his mask. She was right there was nothing he could do any rush for aid would only leave her to her final moments alone. He couldn't do that.

"I'm here," he repeats, softer, leaning down to kiss her brow. "I'm not going anywhere."

Letting go of her hand he pulls her closer. He knew there was nothing he could do for the cold she felt, but it was an enemy to try and fight, in these desperate final moments.

"I love you, Elektra," he says, his words coming in a hoarse whisper. "I always will."

Elektra has posed:
There's a soft chuckle from Elektra, a move she almost immediately regrets as it has her coughing again, hastening that end she's drifting towards.

"It had to be unstoppable. Too much depends upon this death. I did all I could, Matthew. This is your war now."

Her breath catches, and a flicker of pain drifts over her features, then passes as whatever bubble shifts within her chest and is freed in another rise of pink foam.

"He was wrong, you know. Love isn't what keeps us from doing what we must. It's the only reason we do what we must." She smiles regretfully, then. "Forever is a long time, Matthew. I'll settle for what we had. It wasn't perfect, but it was good."

As she speaks, the room begins to grow dark for her. "The candles must be burning low. I think the cold is passing now. I can't seem to feel it anymore. It's almost warm.."

She's held close to him now. The candles burn as they did when he entered the dojo - dim and flickering, but with light enough. The signs are there for him to read, not only in the fading of her sight, or the slight slurring of her voice, but also in the spacing between beats of heart now, and how her breathing is nothing more than a low, shallow thing, barely causing her chest to rise and fall.

"I thought dying would feel different."

Daredevil has posed:
Matt can't see the darkness or the light but he feels the candles burning as hot as when he entered the dojo, hear that slowing heartbeat.

"I know," he says with a voice full of sorrow. "I'll win it and the one after it, then I'm done. No more Daredevil. Probably no more Matt Murdock. I'll just go... somewhere... and try and live my life."

It was an empty promise and they both knew it. Matt could try to run from Daredevil but you can't escape what's part of you.

"I know," he says of love. It had dawned on him during the night, that this sort of sacrifice wasn't something that would occur to a weapon, it took love, a belief in something more than blood and death. "And it was good, even the bad parts."

"Shhh," he says quietly, kissing her lips now. "It'll be okay. I'll be with you to the end," he breaths holding her close, the hot tears running down his face.

Elektra has posed:
"You can't leave him behind," she whispers. "He is you, Matthew."

There's another of those slightly pained looks; it passes more slowly than the other. And when it is gone, her gaze seeks out the room - a room she can no longer see, the dark veil of impending death blinding her now as only the barest remains of consciousness are left to cling to.

"I wish..." His kiss swallows the half formed thought, and leaves her sighing a long exhale that she can't seem to recover from. Her breath a single sustained gurgle that fades, the sound drifting to the corners of the dojo and growing silent.

His ears pick up no more inhales. No more exhales. Just a single beat of heart. Several breaths of his own. A final fluttering beat as finally even her body must accept the inevitable.

Then silence.

The only sound in the room now are those of Matt himself. A flicker of candle flame. The slow sssshhhhhh of incense smoke rising as the sticks within their braziers burn to ash and release their reverence to the air. Things others can not hear, but Matt can. And they are Elektra's death knell in this place that she loved, with the man who loved her.

Daredevil has posed:
The urge to rage against that truth wells up in Matt's throat but he hold it back. He had fought with Elektra for too many wasted hours to do it now.

"What?" he asks as he pulls his lips away, then it happens, he can feel it, feel her life ebbing. "Elektra no..." he says but she's already gone. The life that drove her body had vanished and what was left was just a thing, a machine of muscle and sinew.

The silence that follows swallows him whole, there are no tears, no futher calls of her name, just silence, and despair. When it lets him go, sometime later, he lifts the body that had been Elektra from the floor to take her back to the villa and her final rest.