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    1. Vordak 12 yrs ago

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Triborg or Johnny main?

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This trip bode trouble the very moment his sponsors ceased their support.

His ascension in power slow, but steady, Quebra Carolos, the reigning champion of his country's sport - Pankration - decided it was time to move on to something bigger. News of the Gaian Combat League's second season caught his eye, and the footage from its first iteration only sparked his interest further. The wrestler was adamant to go; his sponsors no less determined to have him stay in the local scene, where his dominance brought them large and reliable income, career planned out already for the next couple years.

After being stripped of almost all his earnings through court - petty revenge for breaking the contract - he was now left with barely enough money to make the trip, and only a matter of months to do so, crossing multiple borders and trekking through empires of planetary scale. The means to do so were there, but without anyone backing this trip, he had to pay, plan and and do all the paperwork himself.

And naturally, he found at times that it was easier to deal with on the illegal side of things.

So far, so good, however - even the occasional altercation, he managed to resolve. One particularly bad and still recent instance of messing with the crime involved Quebra punching, suplexing and putting face down into glass a group of border pass forgers, then proceeding to run off with a heap of incriminating paperwork.

How did that happen? Simple enough: it only took so long until his pocket started running dry on money, which exposed the vulnerable underbelly of his ego to snark and jeering on topic of his failed career and withdrawn sponsorship at a most crucially inconvenient time. He had endured it for long enough, and was even certain at the time he could take more, just for the sake of getting done with it sooner, but when suggested by one of the forgers that he do some 'wet work' for their boss and 'put the muscle to use', as means for paying for the favor, the only reply even possible form him was, of course, that he would never let himself be "subordinate to a mere criminal".

Word for word, action for action, and he ended up fleeing, partial evidence of their extensive illegal activity on hands so that they would consider twice before filing charges for assault against him, engaging the law in an attempt to prevent Quebra crossing the border. Whatever other underhanded methods they may employ, he was certain it'd be nothing he couldn't handle - and by the time they got desperate enough to put him through some real trouble, he would have slipped out of their grasp already.

And so it happened, for the most part, the wrestler by now closer to Khaerros than ever, with said documents having been dumped just a couple minutes away from a border checkpoint, Quebra unwilling and finding no need to trouble himself with somehow carrying them through.

However, the snotty forger chap had been right about one thing: Quebra needed to do work and earn some change. With this in mind, he took a detour, having weighed his options and picked out of them all the city of Mekkina: the local haven and melting pot for all kind of cutthroats, mercenaries, private quasi-military organizations and the like, it's position near a cosmic transport nexus guaranteeing a crowd pieced together from a myriad places.

And where there were mercs, there was underground fighting: a long-lived tradition and flashy way to advertise oneself for the mercenaries and a way to make a quick buck for Quebra himself. Not that any of his opponents would refuse money, but a heavy pocket is all the wrestler wanted from this endavor, the reputation earned being a moot point for him.

Though reluctant to admit it, he knew that he was a nobody to the locals, so he wouldn't squeeze himself into the big leagues if he were a greased wedge. This meant having to resort to some of the more shady places, one of which Quebra was already on his way towards. Late evening, air chilly against his nigh naked body, his path was barely lit by the couple lampposts dotted here and there - those were fewer in the city's outskirts. Ahead of him he was a stone-paved square, one of the landmarks he was looking out for on his way. A couple dozen more yards, and he'd get the full view, squat and huddled houses out of his vision's way.

The wrestler walked onward, dry clapping of crystalline feet against cobblestone marking his approach; absentmindedly adjusting the strap of his sling-bag with all the documents and money left from his travels, he watched the house opposite him inch closer and closer with every step, anticipation of battle welling up in his chest as boiling milk running out the pot, nurturing a nervous excitement.
The arena is a small, 50x50 meter plaza with a broken-down fountain, two benches and a couple trees in the middle; a total of 3 food vendor stalls are dotted around the outskirts. The plaza is at a crossroads, three streets branching off of it.

Additional detail will be negotiated/added upon request.
No interest in fighting myself yet; just lurking.

AFAIK, the ranking system is disabled by default.


Combine with gravity guy to give curveball projectiles, homing, grappling gun mobility and all around good shit, give wave/gale style attacks for defensive offence, make 'em chainsaw fireballs actually hot.
Glad to bring clarity.

As an insider, i too, understand the opposite side of the argument, as i can testify from first hand experience that keeping it under control is a constant struggle - but as you may have guessed, i deem the payoff to be worth it.
I disagree with the bashing on freeform as a disorganized craft, lacking in strategic input, as i disagree with the notion of competitiveness spoiling the game. A true competitor knows and appreciates the unspoken rules of roleplay combat and abides then, knowing that limiting oneself in exactly what makes it challenging and entertaining for them. Said rules aren't set in stone only because they're supposed to be intuitive, based off of real-life analogy and logic, physics and spatial relationships. While seldom seen (compared to superpowered), so called 'realistic melee and hand-to-hand' are considered the founding stones of roleplay combat - environments, where both players are equally lacking in any sort of supernatural power, winning only by pure virtue of knowledge and cunning, exploiting the exact same tools they have i possession to outplay the opposition. Anyone starting off is usually nudged in this direction, as it most clear of all shows the underlying mechanics and prevents a reliance on lowkey overpowered abilities or rule breaking from developing.

Shoryu may compare it to chess, but there's another analogy i've heard that's better to my liking: roleplay fighting is a debate, where by analyzing and carefully setting up the various inherent factors of a fight - body positioning, momentum, commitment, timing, spacing - you must convince your opponent that they're stacked in favor of your action. This, and the fact that there is no rulebook of sorts, is why i (and i assume Shoryu) believe that the ability to collaborate and maintain good sportsmanship is the glue of freefrom fighting that makes it work as a competitive craft.

Initially i intended to simply observe this thread, but i see the bashing freeform has received here as largely undeserved, so i couldn't help but chime in.








Runic Psion:

Virtual Particles: at the crux of Bradley's core abilities, virtual particles (VPs from now on) are magic 'machines' (otherwise known as runes) allowing an advanced form of magic-to-matter transformation that can manifest wholly isolated properties of physical matter and phenomena - for example, creating objects unaffected by gravity, yet possessing motion inertia. This is achieved by simulating physical particles up form their quantum components with magic energy channeled through the VPs themselves; reality's laws act upon and mold the simulated particles into their 'correct' form in order to include them into the sphere of physical interaction - however, throughout the whole process, the simulated particle remains nothing more than pure magic energy in a continuous state of transformation: should the user will so, they can modulate the energy flow by altering the structure of the VPs it's channeled through - either closing the flow off, or using it to 'plug' certain interactions with an equal counterforce, and in result, removing certain components, properties or interactions of the simulated particle out of existence.

In other words, there is no particle - only magic energy acting upon other matter in a way that simulates the existence of another particle. Due to this, VPs possess an additional property: if given a magic-based marker that distinguishes one group of physical matter form another, then the simulated particle can be exempt from interacting from that group. In practice, this allows the VPs to exist inside physical objects, pass through them, and overlap eachother to any extent desired.

Implantation:

Aura Field Layers:

Godfists:


GRAVITY GUY + WHIP GIRL = HNNNNG GET DRAGGED INTO HELL BY THE PINKY FINGER
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