Pink (Koga/Moe)

And, reset: feet set, body relaxed, and blade rested.

There's no reason to chase a downed opponent unless it is her mission to put them down permanently. For something like this, Moe is allowed all the time in the world to better herself. Despite her lack of mercy, Ojo does enjoy a back and forth confrontation.

"Release your full power. It'd be a shame to lose without giving your all, no?"

It'd come off as as a taunt, but Ojo would hate Moe to feel any bit regret from not putting her whole effort into this. Ojo knows she'd hate to miss her opponent in the apex of their ability. That way, when she comes out on top, she'll know she did so with all the odds stacked against her. That is what a fruitful battle is.

A line of blood began to trail down from Moe's nose, hitting her mouth before she noticed and raised a hand to wipe it away leaving a red smear across her cheek. She wasn't a fool, this match was as good as over, but she owed her opponent the dignity of rising to meet her request at least. Her body might be complaining about being at its limit already but that had never stopped her before. This match was still on.

"I suppose I shouldn't let ya get off easy, huh."

Hunching over, she took the first step forwards and found that her foot did not give way beneath her. Smirking, she took another step forwards and then began to accelerate rapidly. Shifting the grip on her large sword to a single hand, a red ribbon began to slowly wrap around her arm before she kicked off the ground and launched herself into the air with a sudden burst of elasticity.

"BEND AND SCATTER, SHINSHO!"

The sword transformed, growing in length until it was comparable to even Ojo's weapon, before widening until it was something else entirely. A beastly club that ill-suited her diminutive form, but neither of them would likely be surprised by this change. Swinging it overhead with one hand, she made to slam it into the ground right in front of where her opponent was standing. She wasn't trying to kill her opponent, after all, just to bury her a little bit. But, just to drive the point home, she really pulled out the stops by calling forth a kido spell in her other hand. Yellow light gathering into an orb, Moe launched the attack just as she was coming in to land.

"Suck on one of these too! Hadō #32: Ōkasen!"

Similar in design in totality, Ojo found herself somewhat thrilled that Moe's Zanpakuto turned into a massive bat of sorts; small but massive. Ojo prepared herself, for she found no reason to refuse Moe's invitation to clash. However, she found herself annoyed as she noticed the sudden use of Kido, but she's already committed to her choice.

Swinging her blade to intercept Moe's, Ojo had no defense against the Kido used against her, finding her body burned by the intense energy blasted into her body. Of course, the arena was lit up by the light show, sending Ojo flying away from the explosive boom. Catching herself though, her feet crashed down onto the ground, her blunted blade breaking Earth to stop her.

Slow pants escaped from between her lips, along with the drip of blood that painted her face. Yet, despite her life dripping freely, she could feel nothing more than alive. Straightening, she watched the dust settle, raising her blade at where Moe must be.

"See? You've yet to fully blossom."

There was some satisfaction to be had that her attack had not been utterly thwarted, but Moe was far from pleased with one of her strongest attacks being met with such a flippant comment. She'd drawn blood though, so that was something, even if she had already paid for it with some of her own. Bouncing back to her feet, the dust cloud settled around Moe as she dragged her Zanpakuto out of the ground and raised it high again.

"We ain't..done yet!"

Of course, her body wanted to protest that statement, every little muscle on that tiny frame still crying out from the beating she had already suffered, but this wasn't gonna be over till one of them was down for the count. Sure, it might well be her, but that didn't mean she was going to back down from running her mouth.

"You gonna show me yours or do I have to beat you around a little first?"

With that foolhardy taunt leaving her lips, Moe bounded forwards once more. Always trying to stay on the offensive, because her defences had already been quite brutally dismantled. If Ojo was ready to receive her then she'd swing low, like a baseball bat, trying to take out her legs or just make the woman block low. Then, when her guard was down, dive in with a vicious kick from the other side using the rest of that momentum her little burst had given her.

"A finale, something worthy of this duet," Ojo muttered to the wind as Moe forced her body to move once more. Ojo could see the pain each step caused her opponent, feel the adrenaline leaking from each one of Moe's wounds. Distracted by the wondrous determination, she almost forgot to move, barely dodging the swipe at her legs with a jump, and only the tightening of her body protected her from the devastating kick to her midsection.

Flying through the air, she flipped, landing on her feet like before with her footwear skidding across the ground. Slowly, she placed her Zanpakuto back into its scabbard. Her Shikai isn't something that'd befit this fight, not in its totality. Moe is close to expiring, so it is only fitting that Ojo deliver a strike the woman is sure to remember forevermore.

"Weigh the scales, Nagaregami."

Her entire essence changed, her mind emptied of every thought except one: cutting down Moe. There's no room for second guessing herself, for that is the antithesis of this technique. Her attack will land as the air around her faltered, weighed by her conviction alone. Purple energy ran itself around the scabbard of her Zanpakuto, pressure building around her blade as she took a stance pertaining to finality. Her next move will be her first and last of this variety, for there is nowhere to go after.

"Are you ready, Machihara Moe?"

Eyes intent on winning bore down, screaming nothing but the will to fight.

Ojo darted out of the way with a sudden sluggishness, her distraction serving only to make it easier for her to evade as Moe found herself a little dazed by the move. She was not disheartened, though, as it seemed that her opponent was also starting to slow down a little. Unless that was just wishful thinking. Sheathing the sword was equally peculiar, but perhaps Ojo really thought that little of her. Whatever was happening, Moe wasn't going to just roll over now after coming all this way.

"Never been better."

Though bloodied and beaten, her eyes still burned with a passion that matched Ojo's cold determination. She might well have been outmatched before, but that wasn't going to stop Moe from giving her all until she could move no more. Whatever her opponent was cooking up, regardless of the power that her sheathed-but-released Shikai gave her, Moe was going to keep on swinging.

Her momentum had stalled, giving Ojo space enough to activate her weapon, but Moe darted forwards again to close the distance. She was used to having to get inside her opponent's reach, her stature belied that much, and it remained the only idea she could think of that might bring her victory. Her steps turned into a bound, seemingly intending to leap into the air once more, but, just as it seemed her takeoff was inevitable, there was a flash as she darted straight forwards with a hasty flash step. The technique was sloppy, her execution hampered by a lack of proper practice, but it would do the job of propelling her into Ojo at a speed just a little greater than her opponent might expect. Once more, Shinsho flew through the air along with her and made to swat straight into her opponent with all the elegance and grace that a massive club could possess.

Her blade sharpened by the intense gravity pushing its dull edge together, Ojo felt nothing but exhilaration filling her body. her mind completely focused, her willpower enhanced her attack to the max as her singular purpose in life became nothing more and nothing less that meeting Moe head on. She couldn't lose. She wouldn't lose. Even with Moe surprising her yet again with that enhanced speed and brazen attack, Ojo could do nothing but grace this beautiful warrior with everything she could. Anything less would be a sin only honored with her head served bare.

Her Zanpakuto sung as it screeched free from its sheathe, both weapons clashing. Ojo knew she had the upper hand in raw skill, but Moe's raw determination and strength held its ground. The ground beneath the woman splintered and erupted. Ojo's body was ravaged by her own exertion, but she held fast, right up until the end where the intimacy of their attacks finally concluded, a grand eruption of energy springing forth between the two.

'Nagaregami!'

Their blades had clashed, that meant Moe was under Ojo's Shikai ability. Even if it was just one hit, that would prove enough. Ojo's blade lost its sharpness as the woman understood it'd not win her this bout, Moe's own Zanpakuto suddenly feeling lighter, as if its being pulled away from the clash. And that's exactly it. Gravity would pull Moe backwards, Ojo's own power pushing as well, until both the pull and push would hopefully send the pink haired warrior back, Ojo's full strength put into sending her opponent flying.

The song of steel was music to the ears of both women, a beautiful melody that only the truly passionate warriors craved, but there was more to this exchange than a simple meeting of weapons. Split-second reactions, decisions made on the very cutting edge of your feelings, were what decided a contest as wonderful as this and Moe's senses were on fire right now. She was hurting, so bad that some places were already aching, but she was also quite finely attuned to the shifting of weight in her weapon. It didn't exactly make sense, why she felt this connection, but the sudden pull backwards was equally surprising. Moe strained against it immediately, then tried to push forward despite the adversity. For a moment, perhaps, it seemed like she might hold her swing. Defy gravity itself. But even she was not that strong. Like an elastic band, she reached her final limit and then - with a snap - the ball of bubblegum shot backwards as all that tension was released.

There was no time to cry out, no final exclamation of surprise or anger, as Moe eventually slammed into the dirt and tumbled over and over and over again. Her weapon had, fortunately, been wrenched from her grip at the first impact which spared her the pain of repeatedly bashing into the lump of hardened metal, but that was hardly even a conciliation as the the world around her span and span before eventually fading to black. Well and truly spent, her body covered in cuts and scars, Moe was quite soundly bested.

Grace and beauty had mingled with savagery, a nigh perfect dance of yin and yang. However, that devilish intercourse had to end at some point. It just so happens that the bout would favor Ojo over Moe. It was fought with an excellency that Ojo could only fond over. No one should be surprised by Ojo's urgency at reaching Moe. A fallen opponent is one that must be taken care of respectfully, so it's a simple fact that Ojo must be the one to carry Moe to be treated.

"Hehe. When you're awake, we're so going shopping," The pink haired Shingami would beam as she picked up her new friend with ease and began the trek to Second.

There's something wonderous about a good fight. It really brings out the inner beauty of a person. Moe shined like a star. Ojo wants nothing more than to see that shine grow brighter and brighter until even she has to cover her eyes or be blinded.