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I'm Pollen, hope you're not allergic. I like writing a myriad of characters in all kinds of genres, so I'm pretty much down for anything. Also have a soft spot for Arena stuff, because coming up with insane powersets and abusing the heck out of them is fun.

Come talk to me if you want! I'm friendly.

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I'm in! Will be working with Doll Maker for this one.
As Tekla approached, her opponent drew his sword from where it had previously rested at his right hip and pointed it towards her. If he'd forgotten to do so, it would have been quite difficult to execute any kind of attack, but seeing as he was attempting a lunge he must have gotten it out at some point along the line.

Not that it made much difference to her. She didn't slow down or react when the steel came out, merely noted its length and carried on her relentless advance, until she hit the threshold of her opponent's striking range.

And sped up.

Both fighters lunged at the same time, drawing gasps from the crowd around them. Rather than backing off or trying to dart around the lunge, Tekla barreled on through, practically guaranteeing that the blade would score a hit- but not one that would end her, or even harm her. The moment her opponent made his move, she countered it, not with a parry or a dodge, but with a manifestation. A solid steel cuirass, bursting into being around her torso just as she threw herself into the oncoming strike.

Metal screeched against metal, the swordpoint crashing into Tekla's plate armor and sliding off to one side, deflected under her left arm. Her opponent hadn't fully committed to his lunge, but Tekla had committed to hers, and the very instant after the boy's sword tried and failed to penetrate her, she struck back.

If she'd aimed for his body, perhaps he would have had time to duck or back away. She gave him no such opportunity. She had momentum on her side, pushing onward in spite of the impact on her chest and letting her left side swing back in response, bringing her right side forward, her right arm forward, darting out with deadly accuracy and great big fingers twisted like steel talons, reaching for her opponent's right wrist and seizing it, crushing it, yanking it towards her. No room for avoidance here- the boy had just lunged, and reversing the momentum of his arm would take time, not to mention that the short length of his sword put her target immediately within reach. By the time he realized what she was doing, it would already be too late.

But would Tekla stop there? No. She was still moving forwards, faster than ever now, her huge and muscled form bearing down on the challenger before her. While one hand immobilized his sword arm and dragged him towards her, her left arm would plunge forwards, driving for his throat.
For a few heartbeats, no one stepped forwards. Young men shoved each other gently, urging friends on, but none dared enter the ring themselves. Until suddenly, one moved.

He came from outside the ring, quietly entering the crowd and triggering a wave of excited murmurs as he pushed through and emerged on the other side. Who's that kid? Doesn't look like he's from one of the gangs- Holy shit, is that a sword? Dude must have a grudge if he's bringing shit like that into the ring... Hey, hey, place your bets!

The tall woman simply stared back at him, completely unfazed by the presence of a deadly weapon. A wolfish smile slowly spread across her features, and she threw her arms open, roaring with pleasure.

"HAH! Whatever you want, friend! Maybe with sword, you will not break so fast."

Unlikely that would actually be the case. Her blood was already pumping, a pulse of raw fire, eager to let loose. There would be no holding back for Tekla.

She started forwards. Long, confident strides, quickly closing the distance without committing to a charge. Her arms were up around chest level, hands loose and relaxed, her torso leaning just slightly forwards and her shadow stretching out before her. She advanced on him like a boulder rolling downhill, showing no signs of slowing down until she'd crushed him beneath her feet.
@ImportantNobody oh sorry I meant @Drifting Pollen

It'll be up sometime within the next few days! Was busy celebrating Christmas with my family, and then had a bunch of medical appointments to deal with afterwards. Will get back to this as soon as I can manage.
Gaaaaaah just hit each other already!

A heavy body crashed down in the dirt, moaning loudly before rolling over and desperately trying to scramble away. Before the man could get anywhere, however, a booted foot drove into his behind and knocked him over again, face-first this time.

"They say this city has good fighters! They say, 'go to Ominar, Tekla, you will find challenge there!' But all I find-"

The man on the ground flinched as a huge figure loomed over him, wincing before a blow that did not come. Instead, his opponent simply spat, then turned away.


The victor stood tall, bunched muscles standing out in the dim light, glaring at the ring of hooting figures around her. By day, this park was a simple gathering place for civilians. By night, it was home to delinquents, street fighters, martial artists looking to prove their worth. A battleground, where the strong and the violent let loose their frustrations upon each other.

Right now, however, none of the watching fighters and low-lifes dared step forward to face her. Six had tried, and six times Tekla had sent them whimpering back to their friends, pissing their pants in fear. Though she was one of the only women present, she stood taller than most, with an imposing figure that seemed at odds with the flowery tattoos covering her arms and the bright pink and blue dyes in her hair. Some had questioned her ability at first, but there were no doubters now.

She still fought unarmed. These boys were weak. Grunting with disappointment, she spread her arms wide.

"I ask you for the last time! Is there ANYONE here who can give me a FIGHT?"
A whispering upon the breeze that swiftly hops from ear to ear, words spreading like hungry fleas, dark omens for all to hear. They murmur it in marbled courts, they mutter it in crude ghettoes, it dwells in every family's thoughts: he's struck again...

The Red Pierrot

Perhaps you sense this mounting dread, and ask about, "Who bears that name, which pierces hearts, a black spearhead with point sharpened by fear and fame?"

Some say he is an eldritch shade, a wicked phantasm sent to snatch any young child whose feet have strayed too far from safe homes locked and latched. In truth, he is nothing so strange, a mortal man like you and I. A killer, utterly deranged, yet cunning as the sharpest spy.

He paints his skin as black as night, then daubs his face with purest white, while in his eyes glows crimson light that paralyses men with fright. A great long axe he bears in hand, to cut down guardsmen where they stand, and hook around the little necks of boys and girls that he collects. Those poor souls whom he takes away never shall see the light of day, stolen by night from their beds and soon returned- as severed heads.

Once the moon's risen, stay inside! Search for a safe place to hide, and there remain until the dawn, until the murd'rous monster's gone...

Mist and silence rule the streets now that the sun has set and died. A still portrait, deserted, for nobody dares to step outside. It's a rule in town, one by which all families must now abide: if you've children, keep them close, lock your doors and hide.

The air is cold with fear, as guardsmen watch with peeled eyes, and hark with reddened ears, listening for screams or cries. One rings out not an hour past dusk, and they race for the sound on booted feet, but find only a thin red trail, leading down a darkened street. Their captain frowns, remembering the massacre mere weeks past- his duty's clear, but what's honor worth if it makes this night his very last?

He dares not follow, fearing that he too shall meet a painful end, even as guilt wracks his heart, pain for a town he can't defend. A monster hunts for boys and girls, and none now dare to challenge this foe.

Someone, prays the silent town, save us from the Red Pierrot.

Thus begins the promised duel

The brave is pit against the cruel

So come at me @tasuke

My post is up- now we can play.
Now she could create weapons too large to wield effectively but use other creative applications for them, but this power you have is perfectly fine and balanced to me if she uses it in the intended purpose.

I think the key word here is "weapon."

In theory, a creation ability could be able to make a spear that reached the moon, but then it wouldn't really be a spear, would it? Just a space elevator shaped like a spear. And a sword dense enough to be a black hole would be a black hole more than a sword. A weapon by definition is a tool meant to be wielded, and I'll state right now that for the purposes of this character/fight I won't consider giant and/or completely bonkers objects as weapons.

In short: as a rule of thumb Tekla's power can't summon anything she can't wear as armor or wield with her own two hands.
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