Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Rilla
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Rilla SuperNova Generation / The Lazy Storyteller

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The Dead on the Wind


A simpler affair, a once prideful battlefield is now home to naught more than the bones of dead soliders, their smell still wafting in the light breeze. Night time is rumored to bring the sounds of the dead, their groans and screams, riding along the wind that blows. Numerous weapons lay about, many in states of unusable disrepair. Yet still, there are some that can still find some use, no matter how little durability they may have. The time is night, stars being the light to illimunate the dead of this solemn place.
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Dark Light
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Having arrived first Vallen takes the brief opportunity to survey the wide barren landscape. Low ruble lay along the floor everywhere and a foul sour stench hung tightly in the air. He moves cautiously and slowly as his feet acclimatise to the litter of many hardened protrusions breaking through the scarce patches of grainy soft sand.
He bends down to examine one such item.

The cold earth talked to his feet as he sweeps the arena. The gentle breeze whispered in his ear as he moved around. But it had taken a moment for his eyes to adjust fully to the dim star light.
As he lifted that smooth cracked ornament from the ground by its sockets, then he finally truly realised where he stood.

A deep still pause suddenly overcome the monk. He manoeuvred his hands to bring the dirt ridden, cold, damaged forehead of the skull to touch upon the warm clean skin of his own. Closing his eyes he said a silent preyer for the fallen. Such death of this magnitude could not simply pass his heart without leaving it somewhat weighted.

It was then his opponent suddenly joined him on the battle field. It was ok, Vallen had already familiarised himself and sown his seeds. He drops the skull.

Sutemasu had appeared in a familiar flash of bright light not to far away from the monk himself. It was the very same flash of light that brought Vallen here and disorientated him to the sudden darkness. For a split fleeting second the monk considered capitalising on his knowledge and that moment, but his conscious was strong and knew better, allowing the thought to simply drift by passing on the cold breeze.

Sliding his left foot out and slightly forward, with a deep inhale Vallen lowers himself into a ready fighting stance. His hands loosely curled and half raised. Intently eyeing every faint motion of the muscular old man before him. While he seemed unarmored and unarmed, his scars spoke of experience. One might guess with muscles like those that he was less flexible and slow but his powers, if any, were still unknown. For that reason Vallen allowed himself no assumptions of his opponent and decided to withhold his own for as long as possible.

So he remained, combat ready and waiting. Still and silent in a field of death and decay.


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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Dion
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Dion JIHAD CHIQUE ® / NOT THE SHIT, DEFINITELY A FART

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Sutemasu appeared in the battlefield similar to how his opponent had arrived - in a bright, yellow flash that illuminated the area around him briefly before the light faded, the low dimmed light on the surroundings fading with it. Sutemasu glanced around momentarily, looking at the battle site. It seemed that many a tournament had been fought here - or well, perhaps an ancient battle. Regardless, there were many skeletons left and right with broken weapons strewn about. It seemed like the perfect place to do battle in - to test your mettle, man against man. This brought him to look at his opponent.

Where as Vallen might've analyzed his potential opponents, Sutemasu had not really done any such thing. So, he had no idea what to expect. But it didn't matter, he'd give it his best and see where he ended up. Probably dead. Hmmm. Sutemasu scratched his chin momentarily as he thought about that. Yes, most likely death. He was seemingly at ease with that notion, lowering his hand then and peering at his opponent. Time passed seemingly without a care, while Sutemasu wondered what Vallen was waiting for. “Hoi!” he yelled, raising his hand at the man and waving at him politely. “I look forward to fighting you! Let's do our best and have fun!”

Perhaps it was an interesting way to start a duel, but Sutemasu seemed uncaring. He hadn't entered with expectations of winning anyway, so having fun wasn't really something he left out of the equation. There was little else to do, after all. “Let's start slow so we can test our mettle, and then fight harder as time progresses! We need to give the spectators a show after all!” Okay, now maybe that was just a stupid suggestion. Well, no, not maybe. It just was. But Sutemasu seemed to be lacking understanding of just what he was doing. “If you make it out alive and I die, then do me a favor and try a drink at the bar! They're impeccable!”

Well, maybe there was no reason to doubt his physical ability in battle but there was almost certainly a reason to doubt his mental.. capacities.

It was about then that his menacing presence began to take hold of the area around him. At times, the mere sight of Sutemasu was enough to scare people. But, it wasn't some sort of power, or magic. It was just his physical presence. As such, it wasn't even really a move he could start or stop. It's just.. kinda always there. How interesting.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Dark Light
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His body was of a fighter but his mouth a comedian. Vallen ignored his opponent. Maybe many years ago that nature would have appealed to a younger and more reckless version of himself, but not now. His gaze and facial expression remained flat and focused, unflinching he didn't budge an inch. The mans intimidating presence kept Vallen highly alert.
Words were the most direct path to deception, therefore Vallen was not interested in them.

There was too much riding on his victory. He was here for one thing and one thing only. Pleasantries could come at the end.

Seeing that Sutemasu was waiting Vallen gave him a reply in motion as he brought his back leg forward and crossed it behind the knee of his other. Simultaneously his arms shot up, out to the side and spun around in opposite descending circles to end at his chest. With a powerful breath and his thumbs touching, he pushed forward both hands, open, slowly and under an invisible pressure. One more flourish and he gracefully fell back into his familiar fighting stance.
Now with a smile he rolled his neck and shoulders while shifting his weight from his back foot to his front. Not only had he begun to limber up but secretly he had also focused his energies and put in place the beginning of his air elemental summon, should he suddenly need to call upon it.



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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Dion
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Dion JIHAD CHIQUE ® / NOT THE SHIT, DEFINITELY A FART

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“Huh, a silent one are you?” Sutemasu continued when no further comment was made by the combatant in front of him. He could have estimated as much from the limited interactions the other combatants had had with each other. Never the less, he assumed a fighting stance, preparing himself for the inevitable clash that the two would have.

Although the warrior in front of him had had the opportunity to go for the first strike, he did not. This lead Sutemasu to think that he was planning something defensively - atleast, that's what he should've thought, but Sutemasu being himself, merely opted not to question it and instead lunged forwards.

The distance between the two had never been properly defined, and it would've been hard to do so in the darkness. Never the less there was a bit of ground to cover, which wasn't as much of a problem for Sutemasu, as his superior physique allowed him to bridge it in a little moment of time - perhaps enough to offer the other combatant the time he needed to finish whatever he was doing.

By nature of his aggressive personality, he did not lunge out and struck forwards, instead merely rushing at the man with his arms spread wide, aiming to wrap his arms around him when he was close enough and tackle him down. The wide spread of his arms cast a wide net, but it was of course very much possible for the warrior to dodge it. “Let's begin!”
Hidden 7 yrs ago 7 yrs ago Post by Dark Light
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The man was surprisingly nimble, Vallen forced himself not to tense in reaction. 'A leaf on the wind.' he told himself.

With a slight shift of his weight Vallen pivoted on his leading foot, the other smoothly gliding around behind him as he narrowly avoided the attack by dipping down and twisting to the side. (His left, his opponents right.)
His right forearm swung up as assurance to guide his opponents right arm, by the elbow, over and past his head. Keeping it up in guard he would try keep it connected or as close to that passing arm as possible.
Standing as close as they were, Vallen at and facing his opponents side. Pressing against his opponents elbow would hinder any natural course of action to turn right and create an awkwardness for a punch from the left hand. Still neither impossible.

Vallen's stance was strong but he was at the ready to interrupt his opponents. As soon as Sutemasu was to try reposition his feet, Vallen would throw out a short sharp kick. Like a flick Vallens opposing foot would dart straight out across and return back again. The outer blade of his foot aiming to catch the ankle of Sutemasu's raised foot at the exact moment that his weight shifted back to it but just before it landed on the ground. Knowing of stances and having already familiarised himself with the ground around them he would aim to upset him with unsettling footing and an over extended stance.

Meanwhile his left hand had not remained idle. Bringing it back closer to his body his arm slightly tilted down as his hand disappears into the sleeve of his cloak.
Vallen's style of fighting was not taught for competition or glory. It was not to settle arguments or boast of ones strength. With a philosophy devoted to peace, combat was a drastic last resort. Only for when someone needed to die. And die they would, quickly.
Therefore he would not 'take it easy'. In its very nature it was ruthless, cold and efficient.

In an instant a long thin blade had protruded the middle fingers of his palm-up left fist while two smaller poked around the edges of either side. He held a sai as a punching dagger, his fingers tightly wrapped around its arms while the very bottom of the hilt still sat in his bracer.

Cautiously he kept it out of site until he was ready to attack.



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