So is every character in this RP going to be an asshole to some degree? Certainly seems like it.
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I hope no one's been waiting for me. If so, then I deeply apologize. I honestly thought we were waiting for someone else.
@Apollosarcher I really don't think we should continue the fight at this point. The intro's have been slowed down by it as is and, well, I think we'd all rather let the story progress now.
@Apollosarcher I thought that jump was for the second attack that accompanied by the Reflect Spell? Oh well, it's not that important anymore.
Cyrus had only one response to the elf's words. He sighed a sigh of disappointment. He'd now seen what he fought the elf to see, and so now the only thing left to do was to end this farce. A back step was all that was necessary to avoid the Gravity-based strike. The elf went on to cast a Faith spell, not at Cyrus, but the area surrounding Cyrus. It was not meant as an attack, but instead to blind Cyrus with bright light. In all honesty, it was a clever maneuver that likely won him previous battles in the past. But, like the Stop spell maneuver, it just wouldn't cut it against the Reaper.
Golden Keyblade in hand, Cyrus held it out at his side into the light. Just like before, the blade absorbed the energy of the spell, and as a result the normally blinding light began to dim, almost immediately making it useless for the purpose it was used in this battle. Now Cyrus could see perfectly well, but he didn't stop there. Through his scythe-like Keyblade, Cyrus whispered a new spell to be cast, "Protect." this based Cyrus in a greenish magical light that would absorb the brunt the next several blows Arthal might attempt to inflict. Finally, the gold-colored Keyblade began to glow bright with the energy it absorbed, the Faith spell giving it a considerable amount of power thanks to being such a high-level magic spell. At about the same time Arthal's attacks came, Cyrus spun himself around with the glowing Keyblade held out. It was time this elf learn exactly who it was he was fighting against, "Runic Slash..." was all Cyrus uttered, and even that was in a quieted tone. The energy built up in the keyblade seemed to explode outward around Cyrus in a circular shape. Normally the attack sent the energy in a concentrated direction, but Cyrus unleashed it in a circular motion so that, no matter what direction Arthal came from, he would run right into the energy of the Runic Slash. Whether it halted his attacks didn't matter, the goal was not to stop the attack, but to simply slow it, enough so that Cyrus could safely move far away from the reach of the elf's blades.
"No, elf, I do not believe you to be a Master." he finally said, dispelling his blades so that the fighting would end, "You boast and gloat, laughing at your opponent, offering no respect and yet demand to be respected in return." he said, his words sharp and tone blunt, "I wanted to know your strength, to see for myself the kind of person you are. But how can I even do that, when you will not even fight with your own power? I will grant you that I, too, wielded another's power. And for that reason, I am no Master. Your cause is genuine, and to that end I will pledge my blade to it's success, in time I may even call you friend. But I will not call you Master."
Golden Keyblade in hand, Cyrus held it out at his side into the light. Just like before, the blade absorbed the energy of the spell, and as a result the normally blinding light began to dim, almost immediately making it useless for the purpose it was used in this battle. Now Cyrus could see perfectly well, but he didn't stop there. Through his scythe-like Keyblade, Cyrus whispered a new spell to be cast, "Protect." this based Cyrus in a greenish magical light that would absorb the brunt the next several blows Arthal might attempt to inflict. Finally, the gold-colored Keyblade began to glow bright with the energy it absorbed, the Faith spell giving it a considerable amount of power thanks to being such a high-level magic spell. At about the same time Arthal's attacks came, Cyrus spun himself around with the glowing Keyblade held out. It was time this elf learn exactly who it was he was fighting against, "Runic Slash..." was all Cyrus uttered, and even that was in a quieted tone. The energy built up in the keyblade seemed to explode outward around Cyrus in a circular shape. Normally the attack sent the energy in a concentrated direction, but Cyrus unleashed it in a circular motion so that, no matter what direction Arthal came from, he would run right into the energy of the Runic Slash. Whether it halted his attacks didn't matter, the goal was not to stop the attack, but to simply slow it, enough so that Cyrus could safely move far away from the reach of the elf's blades.
"No, elf, I do not believe you to be a Master." he finally said, dispelling his blades so that the fighting would end, "You boast and gloat, laughing at your opponent, offering no respect and yet demand to be respected in return." he said, his words sharp and tone blunt, "I wanted to know your strength, to see for myself the kind of person you are. But how can I even do that, when you will not even fight with your own power? I will grant you that I, too, wielded another's power. And for that reason, I am no Master. Your cause is genuine, and to that end I will pledge my blade to it's success, in time I may even call you friend. But I will not call you Master."
@Apollosarcher So... did the original attack hit or not. I mean Cyrus pretty much completely circumvented the Stop spell so what exactly did Arthal do after that?
Well, he... um... okay fine, ya got me with your loophole. <_<
Archer only paid half-attention to the conversations going on as he entered the gym. Something about an arcade, as far as he could tell. If they wanted to play hooky risk the wrath of Wildcat, then that was their business. Archer had already got off to a bad start with Wildcat the night they met and he wasn't about risk making things worse. Nope, instead he just went to training room. True to the name of the place, it really was a gym, complete with boxing arena. Of course, it also had aspects that set it apart from other mere gyms. Namely the presence of basic robots programmed to spar with a human partner to help them train.
Archer started one up at a low setting, and got in the ring with it. He didn't exactly fair well, the bot was still kicking his ass even after training with it daily for nearly a week. Sometimes he wondered if he was even cut out for the whole martial arts thing, but only briefly, because he always got right back up and tried again. He figured he'd have to beat the thing sooner or later if he just kept trying. It was just a matter of going at it so much that he started memorizing the patterns, like taking out those really tough A.I. opponents in video games. Sure, they seemed insurmountable, but they always followed a programmed pattern, and once a player learned those patterns that was it for their A.I. opponent. This, at least Archer thought, shouldn't be any different. The bot still kicked his butt yet again, but Archer could swear he was starting to last longer against it than he did starting out, which of course meant progress.
By this point, El Sasquatcho had arrived with food for everyone. Everyone was now eating, except of course for Archer. He was still in the ring, repeated challenging the bot and repeatedly getting knocked on his ass, deciding to skip out on dinner since he didn't feel very hungry anyway. He stopped fighting the bot long enough to listen to El Sasquatcho's... "battle" for lack of a better term. Suddenly he was glad he skipped out on eating dinner. When he returned to his match against the bot, something a bit different happened this time around. He started remembering that night, hearing it replay in his head. That's when the bot in front of him suddenly didn't look like the bot anymore, it looked like Deadshot, taking aim at Archer as if ready to finish what he started.
The scream could be heard clear from the kitchen and dining area where everyone else was. That sound was followed up by the sound of an object getting broken down and torn apart. Anyone who investigated the matter would show up in the training area in time to see Archer knelt over the training bot repeated thrusting a ice javelin in its neck until the head just tore off and the whole thing shut down. Archer himself was sweating, something an ice metahuman like him rarely did. He seemed to slowly come to and drop the ice javelin on the ring, it quickly melting away due to being created by his powers.
Archer started one up at a low setting, and got in the ring with it. He didn't exactly fair well, the bot was still kicking his ass even after training with it daily for nearly a week. Sometimes he wondered if he was even cut out for the whole martial arts thing, but only briefly, because he always got right back up and tried again. He figured he'd have to beat the thing sooner or later if he just kept trying. It was just a matter of going at it so much that he started memorizing the patterns, like taking out those really tough A.I. opponents in video games. Sure, they seemed insurmountable, but they always followed a programmed pattern, and once a player learned those patterns that was it for their A.I. opponent. This, at least Archer thought, shouldn't be any different. The bot still kicked his butt yet again, but Archer could swear he was starting to last longer against it than he did starting out, which of course meant progress.
By this point, El Sasquatcho had arrived with food for everyone. Everyone was now eating, except of course for Archer. He was still in the ring, repeated challenging the bot and repeatedly getting knocked on his ass, deciding to skip out on dinner since he didn't feel very hungry anyway. He stopped fighting the bot long enough to listen to El Sasquatcho's... "battle" for lack of a better term. Suddenly he was glad he skipped out on eating dinner. When he returned to his match against the bot, something a bit different happened this time around. He started remembering that night, hearing it replay in his head. That's when the bot in front of him suddenly didn't look like the bot anymore, it looked like Deadshot, taking aim at Archer as if ready to finish what he started.
The scream could be heard clear from the kitchen and dining area where everyone else was. That sound was followed up by the sound of an object getting broken down and torn apart. Anyone who investigated the matter would show up in the training area in time to see Archer knelt over the training bot repeated thrusting a ice javelin in its neck until the head just tore off and the whole thing shut down. Archer himself was sweating, something an ice metahuman like him rarely did. He seemed to slowly come to and drop the ice javelin on the ring, it quickly melting away due to being created by his powers.
@Apollosarcher I feel the need to point out that Cyrus put up a Reflect. You know, the spell that bounces all magic back at the caster? That Faith spell should be reflecting right back at Arthal.
@Apollosarcher Odd, considering the reputation he's supposed to have. But okay, whatever works for you. I figured he at least heard all the stories. *shrug*
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