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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.

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Should we wait for more people, or are you three enough for a full game?


I think we're enough to get started. If more finish profiles later we can have them join in then, I guess?

If it makes things more plot-convenient I could make my character a Keyblader.
The boy had at least some fight in him- even though Tekla caught him off guard with her ability, he still kept his focus and threw out a quick counterattack with his left. Splendid!

It was a simple move, but an effective one: Tekla’s forward momentum made it impossible for her to move back in time, her left arm was already committed to an attack, and if she defended with her right, she risked letting his sword arm loose. Worse, her weapon-conjuring ability couldn’t be used for a few seconds after each summoning, and she’d spent it to make her armor and get in close. Simple attack or no, she had few options to work with.

However, Tekla wasn’t going to be stopped by one little palm thrust.

As the boy’s arm lashed out, she ducked her head in response, tucking her chin tight. She couldn’t avoid the strike entirely- Tekla wasn’t that fast -but she could keep it from hitting where he wanted.

A hard smack resounded from the impact. Rather than crushing the soft cartilage of her nose, the boy's palm slammed against her hard forehead, knocking her head back. It was still a painful blow, one that jarred her brain and made her vision swim, but her skull bore the brunt of it, and she’d been ready. Her thoughts were dazed, dizzy, she grunted in pain- but she had him.

She had him.

The boy could hit harder than one would have thought for his size, but she still held his right wrist tight, and her left hand now smashed into his throat, and the momentum of Tekla’s bulrush carried them on, her sheer weight and speed pushing him off his feet and towards the ground.

At the same time, her fingers closed around his neck.

The blow to the throat wouldn’t hit quite so hard as Alexander expected, especially given his opponent’s size. Tekla hadn’t simply been seeking to hurt him, however. Rather than hit with a closed fist or jabbing fingers, the blow landed as an open hand, delivering a relatively light impact- until Tekla gripped hard, wrapping her long fingers around the side and back of his neck to keep hold whilst her thumb pressed in, crushing his windpipe and cutting off his breath. With her weight, momentum, and a solid hold on him, she’d slam him painfully to the ground, strangling him with her left hand, her left arm now fully extended.

This last was important. Not only had her attack given her the hold she could use to choke and likely pin him down, it also let her keep him at a set distance. She was taller than him, her reach longer. Her face might have been open, but with her now holding her opponent at arm’s length by the neck, he effectively wouldn’t be able to reach her head with any follow-up strikes. He might be able to get a body shot in, but she still had armor there. In short: his left arm couldn’t reach her, his right arm was still caught, and he was very likely pinned and unable to breathe.

Tekla glared down at him, teeth bared in a ferocious expression, leaving no doubt at all that she would strangle him until he lost consciousness if need be.

“Yield. Drop the sword.”
Name: Jillian 'Sharkspittle' McAnn
Appearance:
Her skin's bleached pale on account of her imbibing mountains of exotic chemicals and combat drugs over the course of her short but illustrious career. Has a surprisingly high-pitched and childlike voice.

Bio:

Age: Nineteen turns 'round the sun, more or less.

Skills:

Personality:


World Sheet
@Letter Bee

Name: Jillian 'Sharkspittle' McAnn
Appearance:


Her skin's bleached pale on account of her imbibing mountains of exotic chemicals and combat drugs over the course of her short but illustrious career. Has a surprisingly high-pitched and childlike voice.

Bio:


Age: Nineteen turns 'round the sun, more or less.

Skills:


Personality:


World Sheet
A sweet image of innocence
Her presence here so dissonant
Amidst the shadows and the grime.
Run, small one, while there’s still time!
Sneak away, find somewhere safe
A hidey-hole for a thin waif
Somewhere the demon will not seek,
Some lonesome refuge for the meek.

But nay, she strays not from her path
She cries to tempt the madman’s wrath
And all that’s left to do is pray
That
He does not come thisaway
Alas, the girl is not alone,
Her presence here is now beknown.

Quiet eyes observe her gentle walk,
Quiet feet behind her slowly stalk,
And from the vilest, blackest depths of shade
A shadow strikes, a great and dark curved blade!

Edge turned aside, the flat swings down
Towards the little wanderer’s crown
Seeking not her life to reap
But to knock her into dazed sleep
So that the Red Pierrot may snatch
Her up, to later on dispatch…
Also interested!
@ImportantNobody

Everything all right? If IRL stuff has got you busy then I don't mind waiting some more. Just wanted to check in, though.
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.
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