The Crater

[Maximos]

Clash was potent, of that there could be no doubt.

Maximos could not help but noticed that his opponent matched footing with him without even a hitch, and how he was able to shred the jacket into ribbons without invisible force or much need for his hands. And yet the modicum of time taken to do exactly that was all the delay Maximos needed. As the other man tore through the storm of dissolving black cloth he would be able to see that Maximos task was done.

He had rolled up his left sleeve.

The cloth was neatly, although very quickly, rolled just about to his elbow and lines and curlicue's of black inking stained his pale white flesh. And then, in a blur two fists were coming for Maximos' face. They were not coming at the same exact exact moment but in rapid succession, yet the speed of it all made the motions meld together. There was simply no denying Clash' offensive capability, that Cyo stone shone ominously and his speed and ferocity were unquestionable. Maximos may have been able to manage a defense, or even a series of defenses but at the very same time he had offered absolutely no offense. Focusing infact, on defense. And now, as two fists came careening for his face Maximos seemed less concerned...and more curious. His head was cocked slight to the side, his eyes locked on Clash's center looking all the world like a man examining an interesting work of art.

Maximos left hand moved in a blur, matching Clash's own. He was aided only by the fact Clash had chosen to assault a single small area, his head meaning his attacks simply had to move in close proximity to each other. His left hand came up, sparks drawling LED bright lights in the air as they raced across his arm, and he deftly shoved the assaulting fist to the side. Not to just any side, but rather it was deflected so that it might interrupt the path of his opposite fist. In other words, Maximos deflected the man's punch in such a way that it would in turn deflect or make awkward that second punch. Of course, in the worse case scenario that the initial fist was pulled back before such obstruction Maximos would simply swing his left arm, aiming to smack the temple-shot to the side with his forearm while leaning back. Again, a chance to strike was abandoned, instead against laced with curiosity, humility, and a deep interest Maximos very softly said. "Once more, please."

He was waiting for something, but what?

[xClashx]

Maximos' head cocked to the side. The fact that the Shadow was admiring his center made Clash equally curious, his expression momentarily mirroring Maximos' as he took aim and fired two straight blasts at the Shadow's head. Using his left hand, Maximos shoved Clash's left fist to the side in such a way that it obstructed the path of his right hand, which Clash stayed instead of striking again.

"Once more, please."

Clash took several steps back. While he had been launching simple attacks, within him his puissance grew with every moment Maximos chose to defend instead of attack; however, Maximos had been given two, perhaps three chances to gauge the power with which Clash could attack.

Clash shook his head and chuckled, resolute in his position ten feet away from his opponent, his chest and stomach vibrating softly. He extended his right hand out to his side and in his grasp appeared a claymore-like long knife, which he held by a sheath black against the foresty backdrop. He turned back to Maximos.

"Your turn."

[Maximos]

((Long night. Not much time for a post. BUT! I promise one tomorrow, worth the wait.))

[Maximos]

skycamefalling

Clash shook his head and chuckled, resolute in his position ten feet away from his opponent, his chest and stomach vibrating softly. He extended his right hand out to his side and in his grasp appeared a katana, which he held by a sheath black against the foresty backdrop. He turned back to Maximos.

"Your turn."

Maximos stared at the image for a moment, the fight shifting directions entirely with nothing more than a few innocent steps back. Max had been so engrossed in what he was doing, studying it seemed like he might study a new tome or a sheet of magic text scribed across some ancient scroll. What was he studying? Why? Max didnt say. Instead, at Clash's words Max's vision seemed to snap into focus, rising up from the man's chest to his eyes. Maximos' face broke into a wide smile, and then a soft chuckle much like his opponents as he spoke.

Maximos grinned fiercely from ear to ear. It was nothing like the cordial smile of moments ago, this was Maximos an expression born of pure excitement. Something like an eager child in the moments before the presents were opened. Clash might even notice the way Maximos eyes momentarily darted from his person, to his blade and back. A sword had entered the field. Live steel. It was absolutely tantalizing. Maximos was a fighter of many sorts, but first and foremost he was a swordsman. His right hand was automatically sliding backwards to the foot long blade at his back, sparks racing across his fingertips and jumping off toward the eager handle...but about half way through the motion his hand stopped. The corner of Max's mouth quirked in an odd smirk.

"My apologies, it is, isnt it?" Maximos said, his voice soft and yet clear enough to carry across the distance. And as his sentence ended, he was gone. Not teleported or vanished. Maximos may have been very fast, and his boots may have had the power to boost him forward with great speed, but for as fast as he crossed the distance he seemed to have wanted to be seen. Of course he did! Where was the fun otherwise!?

Maximos raced forward straight into, and unless swung on straight through sword range. If unobstructed he would swing, with his left foot leading as he lead his right arm into a straight forward punch aimed at the very same center of Clash's chest. His right arm was almost literally ablaze with zig-zagging lines of energy racing across his sleeve, arching down his arm in streaks of indigo, navy, and plum and staining the air in their wake. His left hand was cocked back, as if ready to follow up but as of yet did not swing. As for what would happen once or if he hit, that remained to be seen. As did Clash's defense.

[xClashx]

Maximos

As Maximos studied Clash's blade and reached for his own weapon, the young warrior used his left hand to pull the sheath from the cold steel of his own blade.

The warrior gripped the claymore-like long knife, which weighed over six pounds and measured fifty-five inches total, single-handedly.

He held the hard sheath in his left hand in an underhanded grip.

As Maximos rushed him, Clash, leading with his right foot, whipped his left arm back, stepped off-line and executed an in-quartata, thrusting the forty-five-inch-long blade at the mage's upper left arm in an attempt to pierce the biceps and triceps simultaneously.

His left foot slid across the earth, creating a three-foot-wide opening through which Maximos, if hit, would carry himself off Clash's blade.

[xClashx]

Clash stood outside the castle.