Vargas twisted slightly, his reflexes and Phlegethon's questionable aim sending the mud slapping harmlessly over the pits at the front of his snout. Or had the creature thought that those were his eyes-? He wasn't sure, and now wasn't the time to stop and ask.

Instead, he lunged forward, trying a new technique--to take the tiger, as it were, by the tail.

Maybe if he just dragged the creature backward, it wouldn't be able to react-? He wasn't sure where he could possibly go from there, but he was curious as to what it would do, what effects it might have. At the very least, it might result in some hilarious Phlegethon-flailing.

To that end, Vargas aimed both forelimbs for Phlegethon's tail, just before the flukes--trying to just grab on, for now. It was a hell of a long-range lunge, so he knew he'd be open to attack until he could truly swivel his entire body behind him. It was a risky maneuver, but perhaps it would pay off.

Round: 7/?
Attempt: Punch Phlegethon
Defense: Some Quills?
Injuries: None

@Phlegethon

Those were not his eyes.

Phlegethon ducked beneath the lunging behemoth, sweeping its thick tail out of the way as it turned. Trundling forward - in a manner much like a seal or a walrus would - the slime-beast prepared to make a lunge of its own at Vargas's back. It'd throw all of its bulk forward, if it even managed to get that far.

If it even made contact, it'd quickly hum, "hold your breath."
Round: 7/?
Attempt: Tackle Vargas into the water
Defense: Spines and being slippery
Injuries: A little concussed

@Vargas

He half-turned, at the warning, just in time to see Phlegethon launching at his back like some sort of incredibly distorted snake-whale. Heron. Thing. Its neck--necks shouldn't do that--

Vargas swore under his breath and leapt to one side. Phlegethon still impacted him--still knocked him stumbling, a little dazed--but he managed to avoid, at least, being full-on impacted and thrown like some hapless purple baseball out into the water. He staggered in the mud, turning, for now not pursuing the attack--put, for the moment, on the defensive.

Round: 8/?
Attempt: Dodge!
Defense: Some Quills?
Injuries: None

@Phlegethon

It sailed past Vargas with only minimal contact, but continued to move towards the water. Phlegethon slipped in easily, oily-black shadow trailing it and dissipating into the murky depths. But, it was not fleeing.

Diving deep, the slime-beast spun sharply back towards the surface it had come from. It paused for a moment, sensing. Aiming. Preparing. Springing with powerful strokes of its tail, Phlegethon breached in an immense mass heading right for Vargas - if it had aimed correctly, that is.

Otherwise, it would be sailing right into a nice patch of reeds. Momentum could be a jerk, at times.
Round: 8/?
Attempt: Jump out and slam the heck out of Vargas
Defense: Spines and being slippery
Injuries: A little concussed

@Vargas

Vargas turned back again, and now Phlegethon was breaching the water, sailing down toward him. He grimaced, and twisted his body. It would hit him either way--send him flying into the reeds--but if he timed it right, if he grappled his arms and swung his weight, if he used Phlegethon's momentum, maybe he could just piledrive him right down into the muck head-first, too.

He wasn't quite sure if he managed--he felt his arms grasping, felt the weight strike him, and felt muddy water and reeds and the tumbling of his own gangly form.

Had he hit-? Had he at least hurt Phlegethon as much as he'd been hit, or--if he were lucky--worse? Or had he missed entirely? He shook himself, blinking away the daze with all six eyes, as he rolled groggily up to find out.

Round: 9/?
Attempt: Piledriver
Defense: Some Quills?
Injuries: None

@Phlegethon

Its bulk had collided with Vargas's, but with an interlocking of arms, its entire trajectory was altered. Phlegethon, headed straight for Mother Earth, flailed mid-piledriver. Predictably, it wound up landing head-first into the mud. If it saw stars before, now it faced the sun directly. Such was the double-edged sword of being mostly non-newtonian slime. It could take quite a heavy beating and harden on impact, but did no favors to cushion if it hit hard enough.

So, really, the soft mud felt like solid concrete.

It needed a bit of a second after that. Maybe a quick smoke. Something to give it time to take a breather. The mere thought of magic-casting sent a lancing pain behind its eye, but it mustered anyways. Phlegethon knew it had taken a massive risk, with only relative success. But, for the moment, it was pretty incapacitated. It was too stubborn, though, to call time-out and quits.
Round: 9/?
Attempt: Take a quick smoke
Defense: Spines and being slippery
Injuries: Concussed

@Vargas

It took him a blinking moment, swaying with the force of the impact, to find Phlegethon again. Black-on-mud was a good look, for camouflage, it seemed--and for a brief moment he wondered just who had designed Aquarian to be neon blue, and why. Certainly the old master's design here had better coloration.

He scrambled forward, slowed by the strike--but it seemed that Phlegethon was still struggling even to come upright. He rushed in to try and tackle it, to ride it from behind, arms wrapped around its throat just beneath its head--and gripping its head, this time; he'd learned his lesson with that bizarre extending-neck. If he held its head, maybe it couldn't just zoop said head off and away. Limbs aimed, then, to just wrap all around Phlegethon, to tangle in behind the head, to use Vargas' great weight to keep the creature pinned.

"You fight well--are you capable of continuing, or shall we halt here?" Vargas asked. He thought he'd seen enough, at least, to judge Phlegethon's combat prowess--but if there was more it wished to show him, he was perfectly willing to continue.

Round: 10/?
Attempt: Um. Headlock?
Defense: Some Quills?
Injuries: A little dazed/bruised

It seemed, being sopping-wet on top of water-resistant, oily chaos goo wasn't the most conducive to charring flesh. At least its accidental disguise was well enough to give it a second to catch its nonexistent breath; if one could even consider being pancaked in the mud a disguise.

Phlegethon didn't put up much of a fight to the Overseer adding to its weight, pushing it further into its natural state of slime-beast in the mud. It was exhausted and, if it dared to even open its jaw a little bit, it'd see the light of an infinitely bright white hole. Vargas's voice crawled across its skin, barely registered over the distant ringing. Still recuperating from falling on its entire face with its entire weight and flopping into concrete-mud, it rumbled and twisted its head to coat the other's hand in slime and possibly slip out.

"I am done," it hummed, voice somewhat distorted, "let go."
Round: 10/?
Attempt: Be one of these.
Defense: Spines and being slippery
Injuries: Concussed

@Vargas

Vargas at once stepped back, releasing (though it was already squirming free...) and looking Phlegethon over. His mind did a few quick mental calculations--nothing more than a second or two of assessment, but he had, in this scuffle, learned quite a lot. He was battered, bruised--not injured, but the creature was physically powerful. Granted, Vargas had a lot of spiky bits he hadn't used, but that wasn't the point. Phlegethon had also, undoubtedly, held back--and had magic at its command, as well. So he deemed it strong, flexible, difficult to pin down. It would be hard to kill, hard to set on fire, given the speed, flexibility, and wet sludge (Vargas was unaware of the oil's great flammability). And Phlegethon seemed unharmed. A little dazed, perhaps, as was Vargas himself, but it had taken quite a beating.

Its purpose, if he had gauged it correctly, was to hunt in Aquarian's stead while the lazy Master slept. He'd apparently created and unleashed a bunch of lesser versions of himself. And Phlegethon had himself stated (
as did the other one) that Vargas was simply too big to hunt. For any average "Gembound" who wandered into Cetus, it seemed that Aquarian's old consequences were still in place: come in, and be hunted and eaten by this "Children" of his.

Well, he wasn't doing poorly. It was certainly something to report to Master Nemean, when at last she woke. He wondered how she'd take it.

Those few seconds of assessment over, Vargas rocked back, lowering himself half to his haunches in his iconic half-crouch, and spoke.

"Thank you. You fight well. So you are left to hunt here, yes? To kill and consume whatever is small enough, that passes through?" He was satisfied, thus far, though strictly-speaking, it wasn't his place to be. These things--though far smaller than he'd have liked--seemed well-suited for their tasks. Though perhaps even that size is deliberate. Certainly the Master knows better than I; perhaps he has shaped these to fit into places where he cannot, to pursue where he can't go?

@Phlegethon

Character: Vargas Age: +6 (6 Cycles) Magic Level: +3 (Brawler) ROUND 1 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +6 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +10 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: +19 Penalties: - ROUND 7 Attempt: +4 Penalties: - ROUND 8 Attempt: +7 Penalties: - ROUND 9 Attempt: +20 Penalties: - ROUND 10 Attempt: +11 Penalties: - Total: 110

Character: Phlegethon Age: +13 (13 Cycles) Magic Level: +1 (Fledgling) ROUND 1 Attempt: +15 Penalties: - ROUND 2 Attempt: +6 Penalties: - ROUND 3 Attempt: +9 Penalties: - ROUND 4 Attempt: +15 Penalties: - ROUND 5 Attempt: +16 Penalties: - ROUND 6 Attempt: +4 Penalties: - ROUND 7 Attempt: +6 Penalties: - ROUND 8 Attempt: +14 Penalties: - ROUND 9 Attempt: +3 Penalties: - ROUND 10 Attempt: +8 Penalties: - Total: 110

WINNER: Tie