Battle Arena - 2M Gold for new Fighters!

Why are you here?

To poll whore!	24.2%	[ 40 ]
To fight!	17.6%	[ 29 ]
To win!	8.5%	[ 14 ]
To see my name in lights!	8.5%	[ 14 ]
To learn!	11.5%	[ 19 ]
To teach!	5.5%	[ 9 ]
To love!	6.7%	[ 11 ]
To live!	1.8%	[ 3 ]
To poll whore!	15.8%	[ 26 ]
Total Votes:			[ 165 ]

[Zou Kraze]

Astil

Colonel Iyam "Airstrike" Heita
Health
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XXXXXXHeita was slow to stand, having wounded Ito. To which the extent was visible, Ito was now favoring his left over his right. " color=olive]You are well taught but giving up an edge is not honorably...it is foolish." Iyam was of course referring to the samurai's refusal to draw his swords. No matter as he began to strafe his opponent again. This time stepping to right, his opponents left/weak side. Stalking his opponent as a tiger stalked his prey. An animalistic guttural growl could even be heard as Heita groan from having fell on his back. The sting of it only now registering.

XXXXXX"If you don't do something quick... you won't last much longer soldier." As he said so Heita's right became flushed with a sunset aura, from the tips of the knuckle all the way to the point of his elbow. It was bright, easily eye-catching and gave tell-tale signs that it was not something one would enjoy being hit with. In conjunction, Heita's left shot forward has a straight. It seemed like a fruitless exercise until the back covering of Heita's gauntlet fist shot off like a small rocket.

XXXXXXThe aim was for Ito's left shoulder and if that had missed, the launched grappling claw would latch on to the tree behind Ito. Once secured, the attached tether would reel Heita in to cover the distance between the two men quickly. All the while, Heita's right coiled tight and back. Once within striking distance , Heita would lash out with the empowered fist.

"HEITA CANNON-ON-ON-NNN-NN!!"

XXXXXXThe thunderous roar of the words would echo amongst the trees and put all the wildlife (if there were any) on full sprint. Heita's aim was to further expand his opponent's weakens. Striking for the core but favoring Ito's left side with the super haymaker straight right.

Aggression bar
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Heita Cannon- Any heavy punch that use both Apex Authority to perform the move faster and Apex Dynamic to blow apart soft material by transferring energy and detonating the target area. The energy shot from Heita Cannon has a two foot range starting from Heita's knuckles. Transference can be forced through multiple layers. Secondary effect causes second degree burns. The force is equivalent to being hit with a 100mph baseball at point blank.
[50% Aggressive Bar]

[Mama Synth]

Alright. Perhaps that hadn't worked so terribly well. Sitting in the prep station for the pit overnight left them with a fair bit of time to sit, doing absolutely nothing. Although, the chance to rest, to sleep in a comfortable bed built for the competitors was more than they'd had in some time, resting among thistle and reed. But now they couldn't help but recognize how hungry they'd become.

The halls of the manse guided their steps, moving from combat pits along to the cafeteria on the far end of the Arena. As they walked, they scanned crowds and groups for people. Not in seeking someone they knew, as they knew no one in the Italian Lowlands, much less anyone from the dimension commonly referred to as Gaia Prime. In fact, short of someone from their home region of northern Africa or southwest Asia, or the world of Sosaria having made the cross-dimensional trip, the chances of them seeing anyone they knew was so remote as to be utterly beneath mention.

Cultural dishes from a multitude of nations, planets and existential planes waft through the air, mixing unpleasantly until whiffs of individual dishes present more strongly than others, and it is with that that a familiar sensation crosses. Their eyes drift to the left, toward a counter server Earth foods. Egyptian, specifically, draws them closer. Reaching to their pack, they draw a satchel of currency, drawing out a small roll of Euros. "Um. Excuse me." They say to the clerk at the counter, their voice scratchy from lack of use. "I was wondering. Do. Do you have Konafah?"

[ [ Vagrant seeking fight ] ]

[stillnohero]

OOC: I'm down to scrap...But my character just left the cafeteria and you passed him on the way there. Lulz.

[Mama Synth]

OoC : It could always be argued that Vagrant's aura of axiomatic good could have snatched your attention.

[countgraves]

Max


Flanking from the right side would initiate the actual fight. The movement itself was by all means too fast for the eyes to keep up with effectively. Max was a bigger advocate of information gained through displacement. That was probably his hugest resource in fighting creatures with such uncanny agility, size, and strength. Even as Alexander flanked the sword side [Max's right], the slayer would have mere moments to slide his left foot forward to afford the best balance possible in a sloppy horse stance. Within a single fluent motion, Max would slip the sword across his front, legs spread out and braced. Only so he could suddenly pivot and shove his elbow out in brutal greeting of his foe's abdomen should the advance push that far. If everything went well, the slayer would slide into stance responding to the initial bum rush. That was assuming he read the flank well, and had predicted the out come enough to actually stop it.

If the priest did carry through with his attack, and did not react well, he might find that Max's strength was indeed greater than his appearance let on. Like most deities and sons of deities, this one carried more than a few abnormalities. Incredible strength happened to be one of those traits. Though Max had trained hard and trained long to reach a status in which he could combat proverbial hercules's such as this being. By no means had anyone just given his power. It was only through constant beatings at the hands of creatures far worse than Alexander that Max had become what he was today. The entirety of the motion left the sword sticking out horizontally across Max and off his left side. Left hand would merely coil at his hip to afford the sword space. Essentially his position lined up perfectly for a follow up slash if the elbow never connected. A slash that would aim just as low as the elbow itself should the attack prove a bluff.

[I'm thinking he'll lose his sword somehow over the course of these next few posts, and we can just have a slug fest. Just to sort of adhere to the non-lethality requested in the fight. I don't wants to kill nobodies babehs.]

Alexander Tyson

[stillnohero]

Virtuous Vagrant

OoC : It could always be argued that Vagrant's aura of axiomatic good could have snatched your attention.

OOC: Likewise, Hartia's Malevolent spirit and Chaotic Neutral alignment could rub Vagrant the wrong way. Besides, Hartia's half demon. I'll respond to your last post.

[Savoki Sanoci]

High risk, high reward was a concept the savage could comprehend with ease, constantly fighting against adversity in one for or another. This was probably a rarity in itself where he felt the playing field was to his advantage currently. Brisk strikes committed towards disposing of his opponent appeared ineffective for the most part, expecting resistance otherwise this spectacle would have concluded instantaneously. She understood body positioning, gravity, trajectory; all of these probably factored in the evasion she utilized for a proper means to defend herself from further harm. Anger possessed the lunatic, yet this turned to the necessary motivation until something made the barbaric fighter snap.

Oblivious to her little attempt to weaponize one of the scalpels, ignorance would be blissful with dedicating those metallic, yet bladed left in the meanwhile with emotion seething through to an extent in his decisions and of course temporarily ignoring some of his senses. A tug however severed this trance, realizing the blunder he made and the goal of the fairy. This particular distance with her dexterity would make a counterattack improbable which irritated the blood thirsty sadomasochist. The right arm remained in its original resting place in case things fell through, shifting his arm vertically to make a shield for the face.

Despite the size of the weapon in her hands, combined with her enhanced physical prowess would plunge that miniature blade through his arm. Some pain would radiate from it, practically playing Canadian boxing with the left blindly swinging for her like a fly. Ambitious towards brutalizing her, he continued with a flurry of lefts that were half-assed mostly ti either scare her or land something in the confusion. Soon a bruise would form where she hit him, blood gushing from the small hole like a terrible needle shot.

Kazyan

[Mama Synth]

OoC : Just as a forewarning, it's been a number of years since I've seriously fought. So. I might be quite terrible. But still worth a spin.

[Kazyan]

Savoki Sanoci

((Request for clarification: is his Blade of Jagged Penetration on his left arm or right arm, i.e. is he blocking with it or stabbing with it?))

[Riddle Juliano]

((Seeing how much you have all grown after all these years is making me cry. Thank you all for letting me be a part of this. D; ))

[stillnohero]

"Hm..."

As he had just gotten as comfortable as he could, a rather strong presence grasped his attention. Getting right back up to his feet he adjusted his sword on his left hip, followed by pulling down his vest and smoothing it out a bit before he strolled back towards the Cafeteria. With the attire and the sword at his side, he looked like some sort of Musketeer. Though any that knew him or saw his fight with Tres on their way in knew that he was a world apart from such a character class. Following the trail of the warm, good willed vibes set off from this Vagrant, mostly because he found the feeling of his presence....annoying. At the empty cafeteria where only the Vagrant would be dining, he would likely feel like he was being watched. The Cambion leaned his right shoulder against a wall roughly 50 feet away from Vagrant, his half smoked cigarette now hosted by his left hand. Silently he watched, waiting patiently for the man to eat. Hartia was full and well rested, but his opponent only well rested. Let the man eat, and then it on like Donkey Kong. Unless his opponent felt offended or aggressive about Hartia just standing their....staring at him in the void we call, awkward silence.

Virtuous Vagrant

Note: I cannot view your reference image. Just telling you in case it matters. The way my internet is connected/used from my phone to my laptop, I can't access secure sites, or Https.

Sorry for the late reply, internet was ********, this post has been sitting ready since I told you I was going to reply.

[Samuel Tyson]

[ Alexander "The Monster" Tyson ]

[ I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me, a Monster, a Monster....

....I've turned into a Monster....

....A Monster, a Monster and it keeps getting stronger!

[X]-[ Alexander Tyson
[X]-[ The BA
[X]-[ The Pit

[Only so he could suddenly pivot and shove his elbow out in brutal greeting of his foe's abdomen should the advance push that far.]

And by all means would the assault continue as the "Monster" bore down on his adversary. The right elbow from max coming in swift to his gut only to be met with a solid steel forearm covered in Psionic Plating. Psionic energy was as light as mithril and as strong as Black Orachalcum or Dragon scale. Alexander brought his left forearm to the front of his body,perpendicular to Max's elbow and the two forces would clash with a resounding thud of flesh and metal! Max was strong but against the black mountain of Alexander he would feel the raw strength resonating from his body like a waterfall.

With a blinding swiftness the plated digits of Alexander's right hand would reach out, grasping the exposed right wrist of his foe. Clamping a hold of his limb like a giant python and squeezing with the force of a land slide. Both beings possessed inhuman strength by birth an honed by the hardships of their life but a simple fact remained that Alexander had been taught long ago. It was not the strength of an adversary you had to contend with when throwing them...it was gravity. Capable of lifting cars like toys the Beast of the Void would yank on the arm and with a single step back attempt to take him right off his feet. Pulling him up into the air, over Alexander and back down on the other side to slam him into the earth like a rag doll.....

-6 for -[ Gravitational Flow] Cost:6 Recharge:2 Posts

However Alexander knew a well trained man like Max would not simply allow himself to be slammed like a rag doll and many a times men who found themselves in this predicament had the dexterity to react....Alexander would remove any such chance. At the Apex of the swing over his head Alexander's free left hand would twitch with power as Psionic Energy pulsed into the area where he intended to slam Max down. His abilities increasing the Gravitational flow of the area from 9.8 Meters per second square to triple that effect! Unless Max could preemptively stop himself from being lifted he would find himself in the air and just as he thought he could re-direct his course he would feel the pull on his body increase exponentially. Attempting to distort his equilibrium and crash him into the ground at terrible speed! Like being tossed into a trap of devastating pull it would become apparent just who Max was dealing with. An individual who was powerful in all physical senses, but also tactical, efficient, and able to wield great focus.

But the problem for Alexander was he did not fully understand who he was facing yet. Could Max cast spells of his own mid flight, could he withstand the immense impact with but a bruise, it was all yet to be seen....

[ Psionic Traits ] [ Power Pool - 139/148 ]
-Active

-[ Psionic Arsenal] Cost:3 Recharge:1 Post
Using his mind as a weapon rather then physical materials Alexander has mastered as an Artisan of Psionic Weapons. Able to conjure into his hands varies weapons from Spears and Javelins to Axes, Flails, Shields, Daggers, and swords. The weapons are twice as durable as steel and non conductive to currents. They can be summoned at will and dissipate on command. The re-charge on the skill does not occur until the first weapon/s are dismissed.

-[ Gravitational Flow] Cost:6 Recharge:2 Posts
Creating a flux of energy Alexander can do one of two things, enhance gravitational pull or reverse it. This is used to slow an enemy down, trip them into a stumble or send them flying into the air. He can also use it on himself to jump higher. The effected area must be with in 20 feet of him and the bubble that forms is 5 feet in Diameter.

-Passive/Effects
None
-Cooldowns
None

"A "The darkest places in Hell are reserved for men of neutrality during Moral Crisis....."

turnipsama

[I'm thinking he'll lose his sword somehow over the course of these next few posts, and we can just have a slug fest. Just to sort of adhere to the non-lethality requested in the fight. I don't wants to kill nobodies babehs.]

((Coolio yo. Also is this an Exhibition Match or ranked match cause if it is ranked we need to tell Riddle lol. ))

[Mama Synth]

Hartia Raye Pendragon

( - The reference image is fairly superfluous. If you can see my user avatar, you've functionally seen my character. That said, just in case, I'll reply with a description. My apologies for the slowness of my responses, heavy cleaning day. - )

Vagrant did not, at first, notice the presence. The noodle dessert was presented for a fair price of 2.50EU, and they sat to eat. The tray was a precarious balance in one hand as the other held onto their staff.

From a distance, they did not appear a great force of nature. A shortish, chubby body, vaguely pear shaped and apparently far more comfortable with the niceties of life. Their attire was equally unassuming. Alpaca fleece died in black for the widened pants and green for the coat and knit cap. The only notably unusual material on their body was that of their staff, and the long, rich scarf. They looked like a monk more than anything.

But even at a distance, they had an aura that was unmistakeable. The same sort of ambient radiance that Paladin are notorious for. Axiomatic Good, gently pulsing off their being. And thus was the case for the Vagrant.

About half way through their meal, they took a napkin, pressing it to the corners of their mouth. "No need to stand at a distance." They said to apparently no one, although they felt the intended target would know who they meant. "If you'd like to sit, I'd be happy to welcome you."

[Astil]

Colonel Iyam A Heita

He had told his lord that he was willing to die in combat for him, and here he was ready to do so. Ito could not hid the smile on his face as the man questioned his actions, questioned him tossing away his blades to fight him one on one. He thought of his sensei, and the advice he would give him.

"Always find a chick with a friend who's a 6, then hit on the 6. You can get both."

Not that advice, the other...Ito had no time to reminisce as a claw shaped weapon sailed at him. Perhaps he had been hasty in tossing his swords away. Distracted and pained, Ito's movement became slightly slow. The claw pierced his left shoulder, and the oddest thing happened. As his world went white he remembered the advice, the correct one this time, given to him over his time training for hand to hand combat.

"***** you don't need no swords!"

He saw the attacker coming, and most importantly heard the attacker coming. With no grace but a large amount of desperation Ito fell backwards. His hope was that with the man hurtling towards him and the claw stuck in his shoulder it would send the attacker past Ito and into the tree behind him. Either way this would likely be the last heavy move by Ito, as the pain in his hip and wrist coupled with the blood loss in his shoulder he was fading fast.

There was a phrase taught to him by his sensei. He claimed it was uttered by a clan called the "Spaniards" when they fought bulls.

"Hola!"

With that small bit of hubris, Ito passed out.

[stillnohero]

The Cambion looked puzzled for a moment, his face shaping a closed mouth smirk, akin to a Nike swoop. His big emerald eyes watching as hard as they could, but they didn't quite see it. Something about this walking talking holy relic was special. He needed to investigate. The inviting words threw him for a loop, though he recovered swiftly and began waltzing towars the stranger monk's table. For a Battle Arena, he seemed out of place.

"I suppose it would be quite rude of me to decline."

The Cambion mused in delight, his voice like venomous honey dripping from his fanged maw. As he came into view of the monk, the holy man might notice that Hartia was not very big himself. Pretty average height around 5'9" and only weighing around 165lbs. His lithe form adorned in fitting garments, the mostly black attire and his sword once again noted, made him look like some sort of Musketeer. (My avatar is a good reference as well.) What would be interesting to see would be how this man assumed him. Most thought Hartia was a flat chested woman at first impression, his appearance and voice booth contributing to that factor. His smoking gave him a sexy rasp but he generally lacked bass in his voice. It wasn't blatantly feminine features, though he was most comparable to the divine beauty of the genderless Angels. Allowing himself to sit across from the Monk, he would lightly clear his throat.

"I am known as Lord Hartia Raye Pendragon, The First...Whom do I have the pleasure of sitting with?"

His kind words warm and inviting, as was the vibe he gave off. Though deep down inside any person in their right mind would feel paranoid or extremely cautious about the Cambion. Despite not being evil, it wouldn't take long for the Monk to feel the malice in his heart. The chaos and insanity that was a part of his life, regardless of the benevolent life style he often tried to lead. Though he was always kidding himself, fighting the inevitable.

Virtuous Vagrant

No worries, I'm back and forth helping my wife. Her first day back home from surgery.