Okay, post is up! Given that Dynamo started the fight without specifying much about the arena, I reckon he doesn't care too much, so I'll just assume it's similar to the picture for now.
Show me your moves, Shiden!
Show me your moves, Shiden!
Drifting Pollen
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Hello!
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 roleplay-wise.
Come talk with me if you want! I'm friendly.
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 roleplay-wise.
Come talk with me if you want! I'm friendly.
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With a quiet tap, Imogen's feet come to a soft rest on the hard earth of the arena. There she stands, knees bent, her weight on the balls of her feet.
Nicoli's question comes unexpectedly. Does he, perhaps, prefer not to kill, when such avoidance is possible? Or is he simply seeking an easy victory? Interesting questions, but not ones she has time to answer while facing him down in a deathmatch. Imogen is a warrior, she will not give in to mere threats, and will never let an opponent snatch away victory with so little resistance. She has certain rules, boundaries, a sense of honor- but when it comes down to it, she is a fighter, trained her entire live to do battle.
"We all die eventually," she tells him, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear, "and I would not die a coward." With that, the matter is settled for her. All that remains is to begin the fight, and with her refusal, it does not take long.
The moment Nicoli takes his first step forwards, she strikes. Three of her swords- the rapier, the claymore, and the estoc -fly straight through the air towards her enemy, thrusting forth like great steel arrows. The first is aimed at his head, the second towards his midsection, and the third for his right thigh. They move in unison, and should reach him at around the same time- provided their flight goes unchanged. For Imogen is focusing, particularly on the claymore, ready to give them additional commands.
Nicoli's question comes unexpectedly. Does he, perhaps, prefer not to kill, when such avoidance is possible? Or is he simply seeking an easy victory? Interesting questions, but not ones she has time to answer while facing him down in a deathmatch. Imogen is a warrior, she will not give in to mere threats, and will never let an opponent snatch away victory with so little resistance. She has certain rules, boundaries, a sense of honor- but when it comes down to it, she is a fighter, trained her entire live to do battle.
"We all die eventually," she tells him, her voice barely loud enough for him to hear, "and I would not die a coward." With that, the matter is settled for her. All that remains is to begin the fight, and with her refusal, it does not take long.
The moment Nicoli takes his first step forwards, she strikes. Three of her swords- the rapier, the claymore, and the estoc -fly straight through the air towards her enemy, thrusting forth like great steel arrows. The first is aimed at his head, the second towards his midsection, and the third for his right thigh. They move in unison, and should reach him at around the same time- provided their flight goes unchanged. For Imogen is focusing, particularly on the claymore, ready to give them additional commands.
I'm not sure we're actually fighting in that... I figured it was just a cool picture to advertise.
If we are though, that's pretty cool! Open terrain allows for all kinds of fun... last tournament I did was in a literal unbreakable glass box, which didn't exactly lend itself to creative tricks.
If we are though, that's pretty cool! Open terrain allows for all kinds of fun... last tournament I did was in a literal unbreakable glass box, which didn't exactly lend itself to creative tricks.
Also: any details on the arena itself? I know they start forty feet apart... but how wide is it overall? Is it circular? What is the terrain like? What are the walls made of? Is there a roof, and if so, how high up is it?
@ShidenBladesNicoli+Imogen 4ever.
Unfortunately, men tend to be less attractive once they've been chopped to pieces.
Nicoli did not offer a verbal answer, barely acknowledging Imogen's question at all. A cold, piercing look accompanied by silence was all she received. For her, however, this was as much an answer as any words he might have spoken, telling her all she needed to know about her opponent. This man whoever he was, did not care.
The reluctant killer, the freedom fighter, the hero: none would turn down a chance to know their enemy, not as an opponent, but as a human being. The one who rejected this was one of two things: either too weak to accept what they were doing, or too far gone to even be bothered by their actions, which she suspected was the case with Nicoli. But it didn't matter. Neither kind would fight with honor, and neither kind would be granted any kind of mercy before her blades.
Imogen glanced back at Gonad, with a sorrowful smile. "I thank you for your tale... but I fear the Robey Man and I would not go well together at all. Farewell, O warrior."
Then she turned towards the portal, and leaped through.
***
She arrives in the arena mid-leap, the swords moving in tandem with her. The katana and the zweihänder float vertically in front of her, like a pair of bodyguards, protecting their mistress. The khopesh and the urumi hang behind her, close by. The scimitar and the rapier are to her right, the claymore and the estoc to her left, all of them pointing forwards. The two hook swords she carries with her own hands, each angled downwards and slightly away from her body.
Imogen's face is no longer sad or soft, but focused. She is aware of all of her blades, with perfect clarity. They are extensions of her, controlled almost by instinct, the fingers she will use to pick apart this broken man.
The reluctant killer, the freedom fighter, the hero: none would turn down a chance to know their enemy, not as an opponent, but as a human being. The one who rejected this was one of two things: either too weak to accept what they were doing, or too far gone to even be bothered by their actions, which she suspected was the case with Nicoli. But it didn't matter. Neither kind would fight with honor, and neither kind would be granted any kind of mercy before her blades.
Imogen glanced back at Gonad, with a sorrowful smile. "I thank you for your tale... but I fear the Robey Man and I would not go well together at all. Farewell, O warrior."
Then she turned towards the portal, and leaped through.
***
She arrives in the arena mid-leap, the swords moving in tandem with her. The katana and the zweihänder float vertically in front of her, like a pair of bodyguards, protecting their mistress. The khopesh and the urumi hang behind her, close by. The scimitar and the rapier are to her right, the claymore and the estoc to her left, all of them pointing forwards. The two hook swords she carries with her own hands, each angled downwards and slightly away from her body.
Imogen's face is no longer sad or soft, but focused. She is aware of all of her blades, with perfect clarity. They are extensions of her, controlled almost by instinct, the fingers she will use to pick apart this broken man.
Just like that, the woman is found- barely removed from where she had fallen. She had concealed herself somehow, keeping Procella's staring eyes from glimpsing her body- though the imbalance of charge within her gave her away. The spirit's eyes narrow. What a tricky little thing this one is! She will need to be careful in how she strikes- if her enemy is left with no net charge, she might slip into the air, becoming invisible, and attack Procella when she can't see! What a wonderful way of killing... the two might have been friends, if the human weren't such a horrible plaything.
Oh, she can see that Hisame is sad, her ruined body wracked with that horrid shaking, that so often emerges in humans overcome by sadness or fear. It is pleasing to see- but Procella will not be fooled so easily. "Liar!" She spits out the word, suddenly pausing in her whirl as she faces Hisame, eyes narrowing. This is just another nasty trick, another attempt to derail Procella's beautiful work of destruction. The sword is gone- but where has it gone? Is it now invisible too?
Once of the nice things about metal, however, is its conductivity. All the storm spirit has to do is move the negative charges away from her hand, creating a net positive there. And, of course, she does. The negative charges in a metal are free to move, and negatives are attracted to positives- thus, the negative charges in any nearby metals now shift towards Procella, pulled towards the positive charge she is building up. It isn't as powerful as her artificial charges- not enough to spark a lightning bolt -but it's enough of a movement for her senses to register, enough to immediately alert her of any metals present in the area. The spirit, of course, does not see it in these terms. To her, this is simply instinct, just another way of looking around.
Meanwhile, up high above, the clouds are growing thick and heavy. Procella has been toying with this woman for a fair amount of time, now, and a storm is beginning to gather. For now, it remains an embryo, but a fragment of a true tempest. But even an embryo has stages of growth, and so too is this nascent storm becoming more powerful. The first, light drops of rain now fall through the air, diving towards the scene of the battle below.
Oh, she can see that Hisame is sad, her ruined body wracked with that horrid shaking, that so often emerges in humans overcome by sadness or fear. It is pleasing to see- but Procella will not be fooled so easily. "Liar!" She spits out the word, suddenly pausing in her whirl as she faces Hisame, eyes narrowing. This is just another nasty trick, another attempt to derail Procella's beautiful work of destruction. The sword is gone- but where has it gone? Is it now invisible too?
Once of the nice things about metal, however, is its conductivity. All the storm spirit has to do is move the negative charges away from her hand, creating a net positive there. And, of course, she does. The negative charges in a metal are free to move, and negatives are attracted to positives- thus, the negative charges in any nearby metals now shift towards Procella, pulled towards the positive charge she is building up. It isn't as powerful as her artificial charges- not enough to spark a lightning bolt -but it's enough of a movement for her senses to register, enough to immediately alert her of any metals present in the area. The spirit, of course, does not see it in these terms. To her, this is simply instinct, just another way of looking around.
Meanwhile, up high above, the clouds are growing thick and heavy. Procella has been toying with this woman for a fair amount of time, now, and a storm is beginning to gather. For now, it remains an embryo, but a fragment of a true tempest. But even an embryo has stages of growth, and so too is this nascent storm becoming more powerful. The first, light drops of rain now fall through the air, diving towards the scene of the battle below.
Oh, just when the curtains had closed on such a lovely scene! Procella whirls around at the first sound of the strange voice, fury in her eyes. How arrogant of this toy, to ruin her perfect ruin, to request her further attention when she is clearly finished playing with it! Well then, Procella will not dance with this strange woman. No, Hisame has angered the spirit far too much for her own good, made her far too angry for such games. Now, the storm glares at her with deep, furious wrath, darker than the blackest of clouds. Procella raises one hand, and focuses positive charge again, this time on the woman's head, preparing to blast it to shreds.
But the sudden flame gives her pause, surprising her. What is this? Another spirit, a mage of some sort? Never mind, never mind. They're all the same as corpses.
The fire clears, and the thing is gone, suddenly vanished into thin air. Procella scowls- why must the woman run? But it matters not, the storm looks down from above, and sees all. Not only can the storm spirit use charge, she can also sense it, and the net positive of Hisame's head, unbeknownst to her, marks her out to Procella like a bright red beacon.
Time to play a trick, then.
She whirls around, like some kind of mad ballerina, calling out into the woods. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Let me burn you all up again!" The words are childish, but the voice is vicious.
But the sudden flame gives her pause, surprising her. What is this? Another spirit, a mage of some sort? Never mind, never mind. They're all the same as corpses.
The fire clears, and the thing is gone, suddenly vanished into thin air. Procella scowls- why must the woman run? But it matters not, the storm looks down from above, and sees all. Not only can the storm spirit use charge, she can also sense it, and the net positive of Hisame's head, unbeknownst to her, marks her out to Procella like a bright red beacon.
Time to play a trick, then.
She whirls around, like some kind of mad ballerina, calling out into the woods. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! Let me burn you all up again!" The words are childish, but the voice is vicious.
Um... do I win?
I mean, the fire's burning hot (especially once the tree catches), which will pretty much wreck Hisame's body, which is already crushed. Even if this doesn't qualify as 'utterly destroyed' (and if this doesn't, what does?), it'd still take ages to heal- and even then, she'd be left stuck under a tree. Fights go until death or incapacitation, and though the former is not certain (not sure how crazy her regeneration is), the latter has been pretty much accomplished.
The reason I'm asking here is because you basically had her stand there and take the hits. This might make sense, in-character, but I find myself wondering why you entered the fight with someone so clearly suicidal... Not that I haven't enjoyed it, the two characters are really interesting! It's just unusual.
Edit: okay, second form here we go.
I mean, the fire's burning hot (especially once the tree catches), which will pretty much wreck Hisame's body, which is already crushed. Even if this doesn't qualify as 'utterly destroyed' (and if this doesn't, what does?), it'd still take ages to heal- and even then, she'd be left stuck under a tree. Fights go until death or incapacitation, and though the former is not certain (not sure how crazy her regeneration is), the latter has been pretty much accomplished.
The reason I'm asking here is because you basically had her stand there and take the hits. This might make sense, in-character, but I find myself wondering why you entered the fight with someone so clearly suicidal... Not that I haven't enjoyed it, the two characters are really interesting! It's just unusual.
Edit: okay, second form here we go.
With a final, massive slam, the scene is complete. A fallen tree, a blazing fire, and a lost soul, put to rest in a brutal, theatrical manner. Procella ducks away with short, swift steps, evading the wayward branches that came swinging down with the trunk. She supposed the tree would be dead too now- a fitting end, sacrificing its life to end another's torture.
She laughed wildly, pleased by the whole affair. Yes, this would do. She didn't get to have her fun, but there was little left now- and the storm was already satisfied enough. A pleasant little ruin had been left in her wake, another small mark scarred onto the world with madness and lightning. Who knew, maybe the fire would spread, catch the whole forest alight!
But there was little reason to stay here. If she stuck around much longer, it would begin to rain, and the fire would be doused before it could truly grow glorious. The storm had done its work here. It was time to move on, to find other unfortunate victims to burn, strike, and cut until they met their own, marvelous ends.
And so, Procella turned, and walked away, heading off into the wild and windy forest while Hisame burned to ashes behind her. She glances back, one last time, as she leaves. Strange, how the girl had gripped the katana so fiercely, even to the end. But Procella was not one to linger on such things, and soon went on her way.
She laughed wildly, pleased by the whole affair. Yes, this would do. She didn't get to have her fun, but there was little left now- and the storm was already satisfied enough. A pleasant little ruin had been left in her wake, another small mark scarred onto the world with madness and lightning. Who knew, maybe the fire would spread, catch the whole forest alight!
But there was little reason to stay here. If she stuck around much longer, it would begin to rain, and the fire would be doused before it could truly grow glorious. The storm had done its work here. It was time to move on, to find other unfortunate victims to burn, strike, and cut until they met their own, marvelous ends.
And so, Procella turned, and walked away, heading off into the wild and windy forest while Hisame burned to ashes behind her. She glances back, one last time, as she leaves. Strange, how the girl had gripped the katana so fiercely, even to the end. But Procella was not one to linger on such things, and soon went on her way.
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