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Vexar versus Hawkeye
Vexar’s viridian orbs bob from one item in the quaint tavern to the next, searching for a likelihood of something
interesting. The lazy gaze comes to rest on a masculine drow, silently measuring up the susceptible spell blade. A foreboding
screech rings free; Vexar’s chair digging an impalpable crease into the wooden floorboards, as the vampire stands proud.
A smirk plays across his façade, as the illusionist begins an unheralded charge towards Hawkeye, threatening to knock his
target clear of any ethereal bindings an oaken chair can grant.
Hawkeye glances over towards his vampire brother, and blinks as Vexar runs straight for him. Blinking senselessly, Hawk drives
his legs beneath him, thrusting himself upward to the Tavern's rafters. His peer's broad shoulder forcefully nicks the spell
blade, making him perform somersaults in midair. Landing abruptly on a vacant table in the tavern, the wood under him shatters
to the hardboards. Glaring evilly to Vex, he sends the fractured table to his advisory's figure.
Vexar allows a slender hand to instinctively shield a grimacing face, as his brother crashes heedlessly into the seemingly
ancient table. A second hands sweeps an arching motion in front, attempting the parry the excessive remain of the table’s
paroxysm as it is thrown in his direction. A glancing blow from the table leg contriturates the vampire’s shapely cheek,
forcing a trail of vitae enriched sweat to become the projectiles wake as it crashes violently behind. Wiping the pain away
with the back of a pallid palm, Vexar leaps toward the drow, spinning in complex dynamism, a trailing foot whipping dangerously
out for Hawk’s abdominal area.
Hawkeye smirks with disgust as Vexar handles his assault of Ashwood missiles with such ease. Hawk becomes dazed and obscured
with the vampire's extravagant dance, much like a native ritual. An impact of supreme discomfort strikes Hawk's ripped tummy.
The mighty drow is shot throw the air, lingering motionless through the air. Crashing into a firm barrier on flanks of wood,
Hawkeye ceases immediately. Hissing at his brother's methods of dueling, a white alabaster aura illuminates Hawk's palm. Raising
his hand towards his peer's form, Hawk twitches his left eye, and a lightening bolt shoots after Vexar.
Vexar allows forest hued orbs to oscillate violently, a flickering image of Hawk’s tainted bolt reflecting vibrantly
through ebon pupils. Reacting all but soon enough, the streak of lightening correlates with the vampire’s chest, a sonic
boom seemingly imploding within the illusionist’s form. Compelled by an unseen force, Vexar is savagely driven into
the tavern wall; the entirety of the pub tremors in a disturbed protest. Before even the rumbling subsides, the vampire flickers
from view, his form reappearing almost instantaneously above Hawk. Pallid fists balled into a taught unison, Vexar bears down
his full weight in an arching, hammer-like swing to his brother’s back.
Hawkeye's daft ears regain their ability after the intensity of the sound decibels due to his wicked magic. Shaking his head
curiously, Vexar's has vanished from his naked eye. Waiting for the room to finish all movement, Hawk closes his sapphire
balls of hue, and silently meditates.Hawkeye sense a disturbance adjacent vertically to his form. Looking above his body,
his brother has combined his hands to form whats resembles a ball of iron, very violent and capable of destroying anything
that annoys its path. Hawk's face and Vexar's interlaced fist meet, sending the drow to the undisturbed ground beneath him.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Hawk's visage is filled with uncontrolled rage, and attempts a backflip, hoping to swiftly kick
his vampire brother in his upper ribs.
Vexar feels the premature makings of a satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of crimson lips, as his downward thrust connects.
Hawk’s impetuous counter finds the vampire off-guard, meeting his ill-padded chest with a sickening ‘crack’.
The illusionist keels over, heavy breathing grasping for air. Quickly regaining his composure, Vexar stiffens, standing erect
once again. He extends a bloodied hand to Hawk, offering a temporary alliance shaking. “Good fight, brother.”
Vexar versus Narsis
Vexar takes no heed to the torrid blood surging through his veins; his immense lust to tear Narsis into miniscule pieces
of unidentifiable particles subdued only by his equal desire to watch the drow suffer. Slender digits curl in anticipation,
knuckles becoming pale, bones crack anciently, ready to clasp the hilts of the dueling blades suspended in magnificent, jewel
encrusted scabbards on the vampire’s hip. Deciding against stealing the malignant scimitars from their encasing, Vexar
brings his hands together directly in front. Pallid fingers embrace each other, weaving through each other to form a ball
of two fists. Without warning, the illusionist vanishes, leaving behind only a hazy image of his form. As quickly as he disappeared,
the vampire materializes again, suspended above Narsis’s unsuspecting frame. With all the force of a raging dragon,
he brings his still balled fists down upon his foe, as if to imprint the ranger’s skull into any form of a brain he
may possess.
Narsis watches the illusionist through thin silvery wayward strands of hair. A gentle breeze blows through the street while
the vampire does his whole hand motion thing to mesmerise the undead drow. The light spring gust ruffles the fabric of Narsis's
loose fitting shirt. The dark Ranger chuckles to himself knowing the obvious place of attack from years upon years of battle
experience he twists to the side just at the right time letting the other fly right past him. Adept finger plunge into the
black fabric of his tunic obsidian muscles ripple smoothly under the skin while dark grey eyes lock onto Vexar. Curling his
lip in contempt the mercenary pulls the dagger out it's slender six inch frame made out of the purest obsidian ore gleams
strangely. With a loud yell he slices upwards in a diagnal angle the blade tears through the air letting loose an eery whine
just as its about to slice accrossed his foes arm.
Vexar slams downward, fists contacting the earth, causing an almost minimal tremor. His icy gaze rests on the unscathed
Narsis. Picking up on the dagger, the vampire leaps sideward, successfully avoiding any serious damage, though not all together
escaping the cold dagger’s wrath. Crimson lips curl into a humored sneer, as the miniscule blade passes through tender
flesh. A blood spattered trail decorates the floor behind him in a decadent path. Jeering words slip delicately from the vampire’s
lips, taunting the foolish drow. “Tut, tut. I have to oft seen you duel for you to try your basic tricks on me. You
will have to think of something new, if you wish to stand any chance.” The illusionist pivots on his heel, turning away
from Narsis. Masked movements bring his hands together again. Rotating and spinning spherically, all digits weave an intricate
pattern, disturbing the atmosphere about his busy frame. More words roll off Vexar’s tongue, as if to cloak his intentions.
“Now…I will let you do what you will behind my back…a free shot, if you will. Make haste with your actions,
though, as I will not grant you much time.” By this time, a mini, emerald mass has begun to pulsate within the vampire’s
palms. Final, calm words slip from pursed lips, “Oh well…Times up,” as the illusionist’s frame begins
to melt, dripping fragments of his being into the very support on which he stands. Every drop that meets the dirt seems to,
instead of splatter, continue falling into the deepest catacombs of Hollow. As the process continues, you notice the drops
rising behind Narsis, gradually reforming themselves into a giant, blackened goo. The goo begins to take form, and Vexar’s
familiar frame comes forth from the mass; baneful energy still oscillating in his palms. The screaming pyro rips from the
vampire’s hands, as if of it’s own accord, tearing an ominous path into the ranger’s back.
Narsis emotionless onyx hued features stay transfixed. Seeing this ones kind so many times before and dealt with them all
so easily. A slender black drop drips from the tip of his dagger. Poison could it be? The acrid drop hisses upon the ground
scarring the soft turf. Three thousands poisons all deadly to one form of life or another a jumble together soon take their
toll as the Assasin blade soon begins to take its toll already coursing through the undeads veins. "Vampire, how sad I have
pricked you. Oh what a shame." The undead ranger says contemptiously. He glasps his hands together while bowing his head as
if to do a silent prayer. Kneeling down just as the tremendous energy is about to hit him it flies just inches from his head
incinerating stray strands of his silvery mane. "Mage of the illusionary your skills are pathetic I know what you will do
before you do..it would seem I have you scouted better than you have me." Looking behind him he watches the wound.
Vexar feels the malignant acid piercing an evil course throughout a river of purple veins. His face contorts as the foreboding
pain streams through his body. An ominous scream booms from the bowels of his throat, piercing the ears of all bystanders.
A coruscating, alabaster light explodes from his vicinity, temporarily blinding you. As vision returns, you see Vexar standing,
doubled over, grinding his teeth, obviously annoyed. Pearly, lustful fangs protrude from his mouth, to hang deeply over crimson
painted lips. Both frighteningly pallid hands retreat to his side, softly caressing his dueling blade’s hilts. A gentle
tug brandishes the weapons, before ripping them from their sheath. A shrill, metallic hiss echoes about the area, the blades
slowly floating down, following the vampire’s every command. His wrists flick inward, allowing each blade to cross near
the hilt of it’s brother. Heavy lids droop down to veil glimmering, emerald orbs. The illusionist jumps into action,
the scimitars tearing up each other’s shaft. A brilliant light show of luminescent sparks showers the Way. As if the
spark was an ignition, fueled by the gelid air, the scimitars erupt into burning, emerald blades. Dust kicked up behind the
raging vampire marks his quickly increased wake. The scimitars find themselves rising with the illusionist’s arm, looming
overhead. Upon reaching Narsis, Vexar plummets his right arm down with an arcing motion, followed closely by the blazing weapon.
His left arm veers the saber off course, slicing in from the side, both blades threatening to split the ranger in two.
Narsis feigns a look of mock surprise as the Vampires flaming scimitars threaten to cleave the drow in twain. Black booted
foot quickly back pedal trying to escape the buring brands. Firey blade slices into his thigh as the other cuts into his arm.
Dark grey eyes swiftly change color to that of swirling blood pools. Crimson eyes look on as a serpentile tongue flickers
out parting obsidian colored lips. Hissing in pure hatred the mercenary pulls himself free of the burning blades looking down
at his once beatiful silk shirt now charred and ragged. "You will pay for that Vampire." Narsis hisses through clenched jaws.
Slender fingers pluck another blade from his waistband. Identical to the one he already holds. he flips them up into the air
at the same time bored out holes make themselves known as you look right through them. Catching the daggers tip first, wrists
snap forward almost as if they were one twin dagger's scream through the air flying straight and true honed onto the vampires
dead unbeating heart. Black flames jute up out of the obsidian blades as they add their enchantment to the Dark Ranger's skill.
Looking down at his wounds briefly no blood is shed yet the wounds would be enough to incapacitate a mortal.
Vexar allows a grin to curl his lips, as his aim proves true. He rotates his stance in time to see duel daggers charging
onward at him; glowing dangerously, with malicious intent. The vampire leaps into the air, curling and twisting to avoid the
daggers. He winces, as one of the brands wiz by his ear, barely off target. The second brand, though, is true to its mark.
The dagger finds Vexar in his thigh, protruding deeply, bursting through muscle tissue, not ceasing till it contacts the bone.
The illusionist howls in agony, dropping heavily to the unwelcome ground below. His frame curls, as Vexar reaches down to
grasp the toxic intruder. Flinching, he pulls the dagger out, tossing it lazily aside. Slowly, the vampire regains his footing,
standing limp. His dark glare locks onto Narsis, putrid hate and malice coursing through his body.
Vexar versus Tranzier
Tranzier rises a few feet off the floor, his ethereal wings fluttering briskly. The Pixie looks about him, at the beauty of
nature and smiles… so much beauty in the world, and so little time to appreciate it. He stares at the vampire, his eyes
go hard and cold. His gaze shifts to the great waterfall, and he whips towards it until only a few feet away. He whispers
to it, speaking to the water, to the power of the falls. It responds, growing angry and tumultuous… more and more water
rushes by. Suddenly, the water no longer falls, but rushes at the Illusionist in a horrid display of Nature’s fury descending
down upon his comparatively frail form.
Vexar allows several graceful steps to bring him closer to the pixie, his boots leaving dusty impressions in the ground.
Stopping, he bows, and dips his head, several cloudy locks floating gracefully down to shroud his pallid features. Two minacious
orbs flicker to their opponent, scanning him aggressively, searching for any weaknesses Tranzier might have, noting, obviously,
the pixie’s miniscule size. His investigation is cut short, though, as he hones in on the wall of water raging toward
him with all the fury of Mother Nature. He leaps to the side, attempting to avoid the stream to no avail. The current whips
Vexar about like a battered rag doll, showing no sign of relenting. The illusionist stops his flailing attempts of escape
long enough to chant several muffled words. Suddenly, the water calms, the last of it flowing off the cliff to unite into
the lake far below, leaving Vexar in a breathless state. Quickly recouping, the vampire allows crimson lips to stretch into
a smirk. Both hands retreat to his hip, where two dueling scimitars wait patiently for battle in their scabbard. Vexar cups
the hilts of the blades in his palms; slender digits embracing, and welcoming the weapon’s power. Sparks of emerald
hue bedeck the area, as the scimitars scream from their icy, steel imprisonment. The illusionist darts forward with eloquent
speed, trailing his brands behind. Reaching Tranzier, the vampire leaps prematurely, twirling, bringing the scimitar in his
right hand to slash at the pixie’s chest, allowing the second, in his left, to be thrust at the ranger’s abdomen.
Tranzier Wonders idly how an illusionist could command nature’s fury so easily over that of a ranger, who is as close
to her as any but perhaps a druid, but is not surprised at the frontal attack. He fears little from the blades for now, as
he has borrowed his faithful beast’s power of displacement, and is yards away from where he appears to be. Watching
as the blades pass through the illusion with grim satisfaction… “Close vampire… but not enough!” and
he calls to the cliff face in what sounds more like a rockslide than a language and the earth responds, raining down great
boulders from above, intent upon crushing the ranger’s enemy. As the rocks fall the pixie draws his elemental bow, and
flies well out of reach of the dangerous blades.
Vexar blinks as he passes through Tranzier’s false bodice. He turns quickly, finding the pixie’s true form
several yards away. Disturbed by the booming sound of seemingly thunder, the vampire has no time to ponder the ranger’s
trick. He realizes his rocky threat all but soon enough, and attempts to dive from his petrified grave. Three boulders catch
his form, and pin him to the ground, crushing him with gargantuan mass. He struggles ceaselessly to escape the prison, his
attempts hardly budging the giant slabs. With all the strength he can muster, he manages to slip a tattered arm from its confinement.
The vampire sits up, and summons force from the inner most catacombs of himself, to tilt a second boulder on his leg. With
all but one limp free, he stands, and shoves the boulder away. Slowly, the vampire retrieves and sheathes his swords, a rebellious
hiss echoes in the confines of their bejeweled scabbard as the blades slide home. Crystalline, sage orbs stare, cold as daggers,
at the ranger. Rage and malice flicker unwelcome signs of presence through Vexar’s eyes, as they seem to begin sparking
with radiant, electric jolts. His uninjured hand flies upward, fingers stretched, palm facing the rocky roof above, beckoning
help from the heavens. Outside the fall, rolling thunder clouds threaten the area, showing off their brilliance with flashing
shows of luminescence. A single streak of azure electricity impels the river above, it’s power surging through, and
coating the dampened roof. Slowly at first, continuing with increasing haste, deadly drops of electric enhanced water rain
from above, refusing to cease, fueled by an unseen, supernatural force.
Tranzier emits a great, anguished scream as the water strikes his small form. With each strike the pain increases and he falls
towards the earth… still screaming. The reek of burning hair and flesh fill the air as still he plummets. Closer and
closer to the unforgiving ground below, and he cries out again to the earth for aid. It is granted, instead of striking the
ground with bone shattering force, the ranger falls through, as if into a pristine pond, disappearing from sight. Moments
later the ground shakes and the earth upon which Vexar stands trembles and gives way into a great cylindrical sinkhole, and
at the bottom thousands of teeth belonging to a great worm await flesh to rend. The pixie/worm hungers for the dead flesh
of vampire.
Vexar allows an evil grin to spread across his face, as his rain falls true, burning Tranzier. Confused as to how the ground
seemingly engulfed the ranger, the illusionist takes a step forward. Suddenly, the earth begins to quake violently beneath
his form, and the ground ruptures and sinks into the gaping mouth of a gigantic maggot. Several harsh words slip from the
vampire’s tongue, inaudible, as if he was speaking to himself. “The fool…You can not trap a vampire so easily.”
Fur, black as a shadow in the night, begins to envelop his body, which seems to be shrinking. His limbs retract, claws growing
off his palms in place of fingers, his face contorting to contain rat-like features. Tiny wings spring from his back, and
latch to his arms. A bat flutters away from the havoc in the ground. Once a safe distance, the vampire reverts to normal,
and glares at the hole in the ground. Vexar clinches his fists, squeezing the nothingness inside them with the fury of a raging
bear. Lids plummet over his flaming orbs, squeezing them shut. He begins a dash at the caustic worm, buried deep within the
earth. which results in his own caused fall. His built frame crashes to the floor, the crushed limbs beneath him unable to
support his entirety. Digging desperately in his pouch, he fingers the edge of an elegant shuriken. With graceful speed, he
flings the projectile forward, and using his masterful powers of illusion, causes the blade to split into numerous, fake clones
of itself, all flying in a confused mass of falsities, towards their target. Vexar waits, sprawled on the ground, to see if
his opponent can guess correctly which blade will bring his downfall.
Tranzier awaits expectantly for the soft flesh to rip apart, blind in his great worm form. Realizing that it has been too
long, the beast quickly realizes that he is in great danger and begins to revert back to his Pixie form... in mid transition
the shuriken rips through his flesh, causing an eruption of crimson blood, though it is not apparent from where until the
ranger has completed his transformation. He rises from the sinkhole, blood draining from his body through one eyeless socket.
He lands in front on Vexar, legs trembling. “Our duel is at an end sir… it will take me weeks to heal my eye.
I applaud your skills” he says through gritted teeth… and then he bows deeply.
Vexar versus Vengeance
Vexar allows his emerald orbs to scan Vengeance, looking over his opponent, searching for a possible weakness, or advantage
that he may have. Satisfied, the vampire allows a malicious grin to spread thin, pink lips. Mocking words echo from the chambers
of his dry mouth, “Well, Vengeance. Are you ready to find out what powers I possess?” With this, his hand retreats
to his side, where pale fingers find the hilt of a single of his dueling scimitars. They embrace the handle of the powerful
brand, delicately tugging at its puissant brilliance. A magnificent, chromatic ring fills the air, as the sword rolls gracefully
from its metallic encasing. Several more jokingly threatening words slip from his tongue. “Ready or not…here I
come!” Light feet stomp loudly on the ground, as Vexar begins his charge at the minotaur. Blade held steadfast in his
wake, the vampire slices upward, in a deadly arching motion, upon reaching his warrior opponent.
Vengeance watches Vexar with curiosity..wondering what the little Vampire could possibly do..and he didn't like being probed
for weakness. He watches the Vampire run up to him, looks down at him..Then chuckles seeing how small he is...He then watches
the so called "Little" Vampire slam his little sword up. He mumbles to himself about such a big blade possesed by such a little
Vampire. He jumps back, just in time to see a new cut form on his stomach, and the scimitars screech up his chin, going right
through it. He jumps back and screams in pain as blood drips down from his chin..He then reaches his hand back and draws his
Gods Forsaken Hate...he moves the sword so that the blood soaks into the Blades hinge..Vengeance then Grabs the blade, and
with his leather making him look all fancy and stuff, he starts to run, blood dripping onto all his leather...dying it red,
"I better get composcated for that bro..or your dead meat". He stops right before he hits the Vampire, and jumps up, and as
he comes down, he shoots the blade in a downward direction, intend on slamming it through part of Vexars Stomach, "Don't.
Touch. The. Chin. oh...um...Raseru, Raseru...Raseru!"
Vexar grins, satisfied at the damage he has caused. His eyes float up to follow his opponents movements. Focusing on the
blade coming down on him, the vampire leaps to the side, attempting to avoid the flying brand. His reactions, though, are
not quick enough, and the chilling metal digs deep into the illusionist’s arm. Vexar glances impressively at the wound
in his arm. Sweet, crimson vitae seeps freely from the gash, splattering delicately onto the ground below. He allows a smirk
to curl his visage, as he sheathes his blade. A high-pitched hiss reverberates inside the covering, as the blade glides into
place. The vampire’s corneas suddenly burn a deep, jade as he raises his pale hands in front of him. The illusionist
begins to move them in a complex, rhythmic pattern involving many different symbols. Startlingly, an emerald pyro bursts forth,
hovering just above the ground in the shape of an ‘X’. Vexar thrusts his palms forward, and the sulfuric flame
screams forward, tearing an ominous path towards Vengeance, and leaving brilliant sage and violet hues in its wake.
Vengeance chuckles because Vexars arm is messed up, bad. He hopes he did enough damage to it...He stops his chuckling to rub
his chin, which hurts.."That hurt." Then he stops rubbing his chin and looks up just in time to see Vexars giant X coming
at him..he shudders a little thinking about Clowns and X's and O's, but then gets back to the task at hand. He Jumps to the
left, fastly, and fast enough, as he dodges the attack, he manages to...you know it....Smack his head straight into a tree...making
his chin mainly fall off...which has to hurt....He then turns around to Look at Vexar, "aw man..now I'm gonna look ugly..."..He
watches the X pass through, out of his distance, then Sheathes his own Gods Forsaken Hate..and the Blade hisses with a deep
moaning voice as its put away. He grips his other holster, drawing out his Masamune, he then starts for the Vexar..a deep
fire burning inside..or maybe that was his chicken..who knows..heartburn....He continues his dash..just in time to trip over
his Baggy pants, and go flying forward, his sword out in a straight position like a spear. He then mumbles some words about
Being great and all that crap, then he whips back his sword, and lets loose a huge beam of white air...Like A White Beam from
hell...and its heat seeking too..."Good luck running Vexar...I wouldn't advise pushing anyone in your way though..they'd be
mad..." He grins in suspense..as the Beam goes straight for Vexars stomach, he then realizes what happens and says, "Whoa!
Run Vex...I don't want to lose you just when I found you!"
Vexar gazes in awe as his assault sails off target. He is bemused at the idiot, though, as his clumsiness sends him flailing
everywhere. Suddenly, he notices the light energy ripping towards him, and begins to chuckle at the minotaur’s requests
of avoidance. A coruscating, emerald aura erupts around the illusionist just as the light makes impact. A spine curling crack
emanates forth, as a gut wrenching explosion erupts. A dull wind rolls over, removing the obscuring dust, and revealing the
form of the vampire, unscathed. Vexar winks tauntingly at Vengeance, and his arms become limp at his side. He begins to finger
the hilts of his dueling blades, immense power from the brands almost leaping into the vampire’s very existence. All
digits wrap themselves around the two shafts, sharply yanking upwards. The aggressive scimitars almost leap from their holsters
of their own will, a screaming sibilation echoing throughout. As opposite ends of magnets find each other, the blades find
themselves. A metal on metal clang resounds, and a show of sparks crackles about the sibling brands. As if fueled by the very
air surrounding them, the blades ignite into a blazing, black pyro. The flames lash out, and lick at each other, dancing around
the two weapons. Vexar rears back, and catapults the brands forward, and they simultaneously sail by the warrior’s head,
soaring beyond him. As boomerangs, they jut off course, turning completely, and begin a second run at Vengeance. This time,
the aim is true, and deadly.
Vengeance is dissapointed in his miss, and frowns...but then remembers.....That he has no luck..so that cheers him right up.
He watches Vexars Blades in curiousity.....Then once there out and jumping about with flames..he always..wonders...'How the
hell. Do Flames Dance with each other? ugh..creepy...' He then chuckles over his thought and turns back to Vexar...his eyes
go a little wide when he sees the little Vampire comming at him....He chuckles to himself and turns around, and ducks..with
his hands over his head..and phews as the blades only cut off...half of his left forearm...dangit! He Then laughs in Vexars
Face as the blood starts oosing out...He blocks his arm from bleeding with his other arm..Then uses his Right arm..and draws
both of his swords...the Hilts collide into each other in his tightly close palm..he watches the Swords Create an Aurora around
him...and he starts running, with all thats left in him..his legs going as fast as he can..He jumps into the air...still slamming
forward, And he does a whip into the air, splattering Blood over whatever Vexar is wearing, and as he whips around..the blades
begin to darken to a blackish red color..and then let out a pitch black scream...alerting everyone around them..and blinding
there ears. He continues his twirl, with great speed and slams his Swords forward at Vexars chest...laughing. "heh...You thought
you had power...you haven't seen what satan and god can do together..heh." He grins as the blades sink down torwards his chest,
at lighting speeds that no one man can comprehend, and with all the strength that a Minotaur was given to protect the Labrynths
of there homes.
Vexar looks at Vengeance’s super-attack…he is stumped…there is no way he can avoid this attack…he
moves left?…no…he moves right?…no…he jumps and honks his nose like a clown?…no…he runs
around and *smack*…he gets hit… “Oww!!” he cries…he has a bo-bo…
Atropos tries her hardest to talk through the laughter, "Vexar....is....declared....the....winner!"
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