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Midus Sonners Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 1:58 pm
The fighting area is now much smaller than the previous arena type. 200 ft in radius, with a 100 ft in diameter platform in the center. The area between the platform and the high wall of the stands is 50 ft. There's something lying in this space other than usual sand and hard ground: water.
The water is no out of bounds, only the stands and beyond. However, the 6 ft thick platform is floating on top of water that is 30 ft deep, so the platform is bound to sway in balance whenever shifts of movement occur on its surface. Too much weight on one side can cause that side to become submerged in water for a few seconds before the balance resets itself.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 8:29 am
Well this is a surprise. A platform floating in the water that is, technically, not out of bounds or anything of the sort if fallen in...
The swordsman can't say anything much negative about it. Besides, the surplus amount of water would be a bonus to his --
He stretched, pulling the hood back to reveal a set of bloody hair, medium straight in length that is brushed back to not hinder his wandering gaze.
That deep, red gaze of his eyes...
He scanned the fighting platform, the bracers worn underneath that thick cloak of his pushing against the fabric in ever so waves while he shifted from his standing, already on one side of the platform and waiting for the opponent to arrive.
Better not to waste time then.
With a single throw, he chucked something down into the water, the long smooth slope of the scabbard sinking below the waves...
Leaving the swordsman with just a single blade, unsheathed, and ready to fight when the time arrives.
If, the opponent comes soon, of course.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 9:23 am
Cute...
"Water..."
Mumbled the ten foot tall dragonkin, bloodied eyes taking in the detail of the arena as he got ever closer to the stage, of course stopping before actually stepping foot upon the water, which he wouldn't.
He was still hidden to the crowd, but perhaps not to his opponent since they were on the same level, just separated by 50 feet. They really don't make this easy... He eyed the man with the blade, his opponent, in the 4.8 centuries Murdoch had been around, he has had his fair share of swordsmen butchery, this would be no different he thought, minus the whole not killing part, also the part where he would have to cross fifty feet of water?
"Ah!"
It dawned upon him now. In the time spent within his hotel room while waiting for round two, he had taken the liberty of reading the rules of the tournament. What was it again? "No leaving the arena. Being thrown outside the boundaries of an arena by any manner, such as through the outer walls, constitutes a ring-out. You will have ten seconds to get back into the boundaries of the arena or you are out. Only when at least two feet of the opponent touches the ground of the out-of-bounds is when they are considered out. If your back touches, you are automatically out, no matter how many feet aren't touching the ground. No teleporting allowed, or the user will be disqualified. Teleportation includes any form of disappearing and reappearing. Phasing (becoming ghostly or ethereal, changing state of matter to gas) is also banned. Leaving the material plane, shadowporting, fireporting, turning into air, and related methods of movement--even for a nanosecond--are considered illegal and are offenses up for disqualification. "
Murdoch would nod empathetically before turning his bulk around, and heading away from the pit, he had never truly set foot within the battle ground, so as far as the steadily growing impatient fans out there, the big purple ******** had yet to appear, which could be heard as sections of the crowd began to grow uneasy by lightly booing.
Only minutes had gone by before Murdoch would reappear upon the front stand section entrance, his motive was to get upon a high wall and take a leap of fate. The dragonkin was aware that he was not to interfere with spectators at this time, which was why he hadn't stopped moving all the while emitting a massive dragonic roar. Safety first, it was truly deafening for spectators nearby as men and women and its' alike all turned to glance in horror at a charging five-hundred-eighty pound behemoth of a beast, his maw open as the gleam of his sectionalized rows of teeth tore at the air friction smacking his assault, his arms were moving in traditional sprinter like fashion.
GGRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!
The disembodied roar had surely done its work as all spectators removed themselves from his path, his massive right hand planting firmly upon the top of the high wall as he exited the stand section, the right hand was bigger then his left, six times it's size, the muscles underneath Murdoch's scaly limbs were all pumping with blood and pulsating as the hand pulled and hurled the rest of it's bulk, Murdoch, right over.
The roar now diminished into a sort of "AHH" fashion, a bit more treble had taken root in this as he came down at an incline from fifty feet, Murdoch could have just swam...Yet he had such a dislike for the water, it dried out his scales later on, and it would seem this method of entrance was un-orthodox, and perhaps scare the s**t out of his opponent, but truly his intent was not to crush the man from the height, rather just not to get wet. Silly Murdoch.
PAAAAAAAK
Boomed the dragonic scaled impact of Murdoch, his feet touching down with sickening explosions of sound, his body following in a trained roll designed to reduce internal damage, which was quite a feat for the powerfully structured bone and scale of the dragonkin.
Then it dawned upon him in mid-roll. IM ******** SINKING! The slam of five-hundred-eighty pounds plus gravity had crushed his landing zone and had done nothing to hinder his decent' which was more then enough to catapult the opposite side of the arena straight upwards, perhaps even sending his poor opponent up into the open air, surely perhaps sending him straight into the high-wall, or depending on his weight, right over the wall. The sand that was layered upon the sturdy arena had been sent upwards along with his probably mid-air opponent.
s**t
The match had now begun.
"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"
Was the unison cheer of the crowd, how...epically fail.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 11:42 am
It took only a few seconds for the swordsman to notice his opponent standing some distance away due to the....well, height. Not many people have the height of a ten-foot tall dragonkin creature, and even at a standard height of six feet the swordsman paled in comparison to the amount of...
...Muscles and overwhelming power the opponent has in store for the poor swordsman.
It only strengthened the idea of fighting against such a monstrous brute all the more sickening, leaving his face with a glint of ironic grimace. But such is the fate of all contestants in this battle for victory, and the swordsman has no choice but to steel his will and test his resolve against this formidable competitor.
He cocked his blade, his right hand tightening its grasp around the dull handle of the normally-fashioned katana of his. Great at close range but lacking in penetration abilities, the swordsman had spent enough time pondering about problems about what to do against enemy armor during the wait prior to this round, having devised - and regrettably giving up his habit of normal melee combat for this round.
He will need something exceedingly strong to make a dent in what would be one of his most toughest adversary in this round.
So eyeing the foe in that short period of time, trickles of light glinted oddly off near the swordsman's boots, spreading rather slow as he took a step back, the dull sloshing sounds of the water just a few inches away from his boots starting to sway and ripple in rhythmic disturbance.
A distort to the foreshadowing storm. While many spectators, unable to guess correctly what was starting to happen around the swordsman's presence and scratching their heads in horrendous failure, only the few that had seen his previous fight and whatnot would realize what the odd glint was.
Ice.
But few had seen his first fight, and even fewer paid attention to this relatively unpopular swordsman at all.
Hopefully he'll be able to--
Before the swordsman could think any further, the foe finally unleashed a lethal roar into the arena that caught the swordsman off guard for a moment.
And in response, two words.
....OH SHI--
Make that one and a half word incomplete going through the swordsman's mind when he saw the behemoth of his opponent roar like a...a....
....Thing, at the guy.
Reeling his right hand back, the blade quickly went to chest level, horizontally parallel to the ground as ice quickly formed on the weapon itself, changing the outer shape of the weapon into something else while the foe...
...Jumped?
The possibilities stemming from that foe's action didn't stick well with the swordsman. Just to be safe, He pushed off of his left leg, quickly hopping backwards onto the water just as the opponent crashed on top of the platform, sending half of the platform straight up into the air and blocking the swordsman's sights as he, well...
Stood on top of the water. Not sinking, but standing on top of the fluidic surface, his ability of manipulating water and ice giving him a slight edge in using the terrain to his advantage. The foe would most likely not realize that the opponent can manipulate the water right now, so taking the opportune timing the swordsman quickly began to run, circling the platform in a clockwise motion and "skating" about to keep himself mobile and - hopefully, unpredictable. Water benath his skating swirled around and up his body and concentrating itself around his changing weapon in particular.
Granted, any normal attacks against the behemoth would most likely be ignored by that tough dragonscale and those bulging muscles underneath that skin...
He'll need to charge up first before he'll be able to throw a decent strike at the foe.
Meanwhile, while the match has now officially started, the object the swordsman threw into the water prior to his adversary's entrance aligned itself at the center of the platform, underneath the water. Waiting....gathering....
Charging.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 3:33 pm
Indeed the platform went up, up, up. Moving right back down with gravity's help to it's proper position, bottom side up, the sand was completely off and in the water, the arena floor itself slippery.
Not that it mattered as Murdoch was currently 13 feet under water. Luckily, he knew how to swim, well, quite well, you don't spend 4.8 centuries on a planet that is mostly made of water without learning how to survive in aquatic conditions. His lungs were full of whatever clumps of air he was able to intake before unexpectedly going under.
The dragonic-humanoid would quickly get his bearings underwater, eyes opening to glare upwards at a....skating opponent!? So he has powers? Thats new. Apparently this man could make liquids solid? That didn't sound to good on Murdoch's end. Momentarily glancing down then back up, was that a ******** scabbard? He would abandon the object, time's was a wasting.
In trained fashion, the dragonkin's legs would begin to kick, his left arm providing upward swipes while his massive right shot up, akin to superman when air-borne, minus the awkward swimming motions. His muscles working swiftly to send Murdoch up with astonishing speed, he was timing his opponent's actions, it would seem he wanted to seal Murdoch off to the arena itself by blocking his incline from water-to-ground. Luckily the Arena was still a fair size in it's own dimension's and it would still take time for the skater to reach a full circle.
With the mixture of his scale's coloring he wondered if his target could even see him in the water as well as he assumed? The thought left as his right arm shot up in an instant, the skating man's right foot, which in a clock-wise motion, would be the leg facing inwards towards the arena, would now fall prey to a massive clamp of a trap. Murdoch's right hand which was timed for closure upon impact with the skater's leg, would close.
If this worked, Murdoch would proceed with a hearty tug downwards to bring the swordsman into the watery domain, at an angle which involved the target's upper body slamming against the arena's edge as he would descend.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 10:30 pm
A damn scabbard with its other unsheathed blade still strapped in? Why certainly; it was his little means in performing magic tricks to fight the foe when he, or she, least expects it.
In this battle though, it's against a 'he'.
So still collecting some strength and gathering some water to use, when the platform settled back to its original place, it didn't take long for the swordsman to see that the dragon-like behemoth has vanished from the surface --
Wait. Vanished? Sunk would be a more appropriate term to use. Yet, having experienced many unorthodox and unexpected things over his years of countless bickering and fights, he knew better than to believe that the foe has sunk to the bottom and is taking mouthfuls of water in his lasting moments of drowning underneath.
He'll wait for the foe to get back on the platform.
The weapon he held immediately went over and stabbed the upper side of the platform. Using it as a leverage, the swordsman hauled himself out of the water and onto the platform in a somersault, while --
A massive hand shot out from beneath, missing the swordsman's foot by a few millimeters.
"Son of a b***h!" He cursed out loud in startlement during the somersault, yanking the weapon out of the platform before he hurriedly retreated to the center of the ring, already seeing the fight turning a bit more grim than he would have liked to expect.
That half ton sucker can swim? He'll need to hurry things up. Just a minute or two more in order to properly fight against this b*****d...
Meanwhile, the water within the arena shrank a bit. Losing a foot or so in depth.
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Posted: Mon May 26, 2008 5:02 am
So he missed, the hand would not close, Murdoch didn't spare the target anytime as he saw the leg he was targeting leave it's domain to enter a much safer Arena, since it wasn't iced up in a full circle, it would still be easy enough to sway the light platform. Considering it was only 6 feet thick and floating on water.
The hand would not go down, but instead clasp tightly on the edge of the arena, which was also why Murdoch had gone for the inner leg instead of the outer, the dragonkin half expected to miss, with his target running to the middle, the massive right arm would pull, Murdoch's left coming up to assist the right arm, scales gripping with ease against a currently slippery arena due to the early flip of the platform. His weight making it easy to displace the balance fragile stage, the ice on the other side cracking as it's end rose by a fraction, but it was enough.
The Arena was now tilted once again, in a decline, the slippery surface would now perhaps help bring his opponent right back towards Murdoch just as the opponent had begun to reach the middle of the arena. Unless his target was also part gecko?
During this time, Murdoch would also poke his head out for a massive intake of air. Much more fun!
Fans were currently cheering for their separate contenders, it was obvious this match was going to be a powerhouse of action.
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Posted: Mon May 26, 2008 8:04 am
Obviously being mostly human wouldn't give the swordsman the ability of being an gecko, but he has his ways of staying there:
His weapon slammed into part of the platform, some feet away from the center, impaling a few inches into place as ice spread out from the object and hardened the weapon onto the surface, strengthening its integrity so it won't break under stress or his own weight.
And dangling from there with the platform forced up by the vigilant foe, he twisted his body to lay against the uprooted ground, looking down at Murdoch's head exiting the water to take a gulp of air. Small remnants of ice froze parts of the swordsman's cloth and boot against the ground to further give him traction so he won't slide down if he loses his grip.
And, not wasting time, he immediately raised his left hand afterwards, pointing it towards Murdoch's mouth/general body.
"Kurai-e!" (eat this!) BOOM!
The waiting and charging for the duration of the fight until now has given the swordsman enough time to charge up a strong....vicious punch.
Made of mere water pressure. Highly concentrated water no larger than the size of his own human fist... although not concentrated to the point where he can punch straight through armor easily, the force would be more than enough to launch the five-hundred-eighty-pound plus weight a few foot back, especially if it hit the main body - notably the chest, stomach, torso section.
But knowing that things are never that simple to a smart foe, and that the armor on the foe's body isn't something to underestimate, he'll see how it goes, then react from there.
Another foot or two began to disappear from the watery depth, in a slow increase of water being drained by some unknown reason...for now.
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Posted: Mon May 26, 2008 4:10 pm
Clever boy. Thought the dragonkin as he observed his target's actions, so much for Murdoch's silly attempt! The middle of this arena was roughly 50-60 feet from Murdoch, who knew, ******** math. Which would leave his opponent to be at a very safe distance from Murdoch himself considering the target was on his way towards that very center when Murdoch began to pull at the platform.
Regardless of dimensions the purple ******** had never let his eyes' stray, he wasn't stupid enough to allow a power wielding opponent out of his sight for more than a second, which was not the case here, obviously it would still give him enough time to notice more movement involving a certain arm, his opponent's.
"Gre-"at
The "hydro punch" was now being unleashed as Murdoch shimmied to the right (target's left) adding his weight upon the platform and removing it in unison, the platform bobbing with strained fashion, hopefully his target was holding tight. Murdoch dug his dragonic talon like nails into the arena floor, the blow would glide into the depths of the water besides Murdoch, sending droplets up into the air in lethal fashion. As the impact echoed all around the pit like arena. Murdoch's ear perpendicular to the blast would ring for a moment as he now added more weight on the platform to help bring him upon the stage.
"Gyyaaa!"
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 9:29 am
As much as the swordsman would like to amuse himself with this particular foe, chances are that once he does, it would be his very own disaster to be held accountable for when things go bad for himself.
He'll need to cut the crap, and start to push forward.
The parts of his cloth frozen on the platform and his grip on his own weapon helped keep his traction and stability as he rolled along with the platform's movement. Maintaining the aim with his left side, he lifted his fingers like what a conductor would do to begin a symphony, the "hydro-punch", as Murdoch so generously named it, arched straight into the air a few foot in a tight curve before careening back down towards the foe's left torso to deliver the force from another direction.
Like a watery tentacle - which the swordsman doesn't really want to admit out loud - he's able to direct and navigate the direction of the water through obvious motion of his hand. Of course the flaw to that is that it's easy to predict where the attack is coming from if the opponent keeps an eye on his hand gestures.
More water is being drained from the arena's fill in an ever faster speed. In the next post he'll be ready to go all out against the dragonkin, even by melee if need be.
He'll just need to endure for one more post...
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 12:34 pm
Murdoch had never said hydro punch aloud! THIS MAN WAS A MIND READER! Bullshit aside:
The arena itself, was circular in shape, between the act of dodging the water attack (Murdoch's shimmy to the right) and the execution of climbing back on top of the arena itself, was all in fluid motion, non-stop.
Murdoch's eyes never left sight of his target, but between the bobbing motions of the arena and his bulk, he would loose sight of the little details, such as strange gang signs? The circular arena's shape itself how ever DID allow for Murdoch's peripheral to catch sight of....!
THE VENGEANCE OF THE WATERY FIST!?!?!?!?!?
Luckily, Murdoch was in mid-climb sending the goofy arena up and down all the more, muscles in his left arm tensing with rigidity for anticipation of the blow as the arena bobbed down in direct route of the blow. Surely this blow how ever would be a fraction weaker then it's original incarnate? Murdoch hadn't a clue, rows of teeth clenched.
CCCCRRRSSHHHHH
Dragonic scale and muscle alike would feel the blow with hefty internal tissue damage, if a dragon-man could bruise, he would, not that it could even be visible on a bruise-colored creature such as himself. The arm scales would ripple in succession as after shock assumed it's role, yet strangely this did not hinder the bloody eyed brute as he merely continued on with his climb, part of the internal damage happened to involve casualties of the nerves in the region, severing and numbing, not that it was noticeable to begin with as the speed of his blood pumping kept his tolerance to something akin to adrenaline. His arms pulling the rest of the dragonkin's bulk upon the positive sloped platform.
The sharp nails upon his bare feet taking root in whatever region of the platform it could, the material was weak enough to root himself in it, he would dig in. Murdoch wouldn't stop there, he would continue his climb, upwards, towards his foe.
Murdoch had yet to pause, relentless, and a bit on the pissed off end of the stick, he knew had that blow slammed into his side, he would have suffered much more then muscular damage. Not to mention the ******** had seriously ******** up his scales, the area of impact had suffered cracked scales as well.
The crowd had held their breath when the slam of the hydro pump of a move slammed into Murdoch and it's after effects, soon the cheering and yelling would once more assume it's regularity as Murdoch kept on. Stupid spectators.
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 11:48 pm
....Well, standing from a narrator's point of view, referring the water-made beam as a 'tentacle' might incite improper delusions about the uses of the strike. So, to keep things relatively simple, the narrator decided to use the term, 'Hydro-punch' given by Murdoch to make things clear for both sides and for the spectators.
He shall recieve a thorough pummeling and beating when the swordsman is done with this round.
But getting back to the fight, unaware of the impeding doom which the swordsman shall do, the chorus of loud cheers and shouts from the spectating did nothing but to irritate the swordsman, even after his blow landed.
"Tsk..."
It didn't phase the sucker?
Looks like the bruised scale color was interfering with the swordsman's ability to evaluate the effectiveness of the impact.
He pulled himself up, sensing the platform starting to go down at a decline on his end. Small portions of hard, dry ice quickly formed out of the rock to give the swordsman some place to keep his foot on, and as Murdoch got ever so closer to the swordsman's position, it was time to get this battle on the road;
Shattered ice fell off of the yanked weapon, the tip of the blade forcibly pulled out of the platform and aimed towards Murdoch's body in general. Cocking it into place closely above his right shoulder, horizontally parallel to the ground, the swordsman took a step back with his right leg, facing the foe in a left side stance --
Water that had been draining out of the arena throughout this time flowing straight up onto the swordsman's body, concentrating itself around the blade in general.
It was time.
With a loud shout, the swordsman thrusted forward with the blade, another hydro-punch beam firing off straight towards Murdoch's stomach at a faster speed than the previous. Granted that the foe would have a few seconds to react to it, ice was spreading fast on the platform ground, marking the first among many in which the fight shall start off as.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 5:43 am
Understandable. heart
Murdoch had never stopped climbing, yet his opponent had never moved from his own position, which as stated earlier, had never reached his intended position at the middle of the platform, leaving Murdoch with a much easier length of distance to cut through for his target wasn't to far from him to begin with. The dragonkin was tall, ten feet tall to be exact, his long limbs providing fast and agile climbing in his position. The closer he got to his opponent, the more level the platform itself would get as he would obviously be heading towards the platform's focal point for balancing the already added weight of his target would help Murdoch all the more, the positive slope would only begin to settle right back down making the climb even easier as Murdoch's limbs would space itself from the floor of the platform all the more in joint bending motion rather then swinging his limbs, knee's facing the arena floor.
The Dragonkin had become lusty with this man's punishment, eyes had yet to waver from the swordsman and it would seem that his target had made himself some sort of foot hold to keep his balance as their platform shifted. Whats this!?
Murdoch hadn't a clue what his opponent's name was, but it wouldn't matter as he saw him go for his weapon, not to mention there was mother ******** water/condensation/something in liquid or vapor form making it's way into the smaller contender. Bag full of god damn tricks! His leg muscles tensed, his climbing stopped. Yards away from his target.
It doesn't take a genius to know what a ******** shout means when compared to a precursor for something epic. Or at least in this case, painful.
Murdoch leaped. His legs had already been in position for it as his knees quickly "un-curled" his legs for the massive leap, muscles pulsating in unison as his legs would retract to further increase his chances of evasion, which was quite hard to do since he was a pretty tall b*****d as well as heavy. Murdoch's trajectory was seemingly intent on landing right on top of a hydro-beam firing target which would only b***h slap the space Murdoch left.
Something with claws may tear a fleshy man apart soon. Good thing Murdoch's first round was easy on the muscles.
"WHA DA FUUUUCK!"
Yelled two spectators while the rest either covered their eyes or kept them wide.
"DID JUU SEE THAT!? DA PURPLE s**t JUMPED!"
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 10:53 am
Aw, curses. Forgetting to increase the distance between the two combatant was, indeed, his own lack of attention, but that wouldn't stop the swordsman from continuing the thrust...
And blinking when the behemoth-like dragon leaped into the air, careening down towards him with claws stretched and ready to tear the poor swordsman apart.
As if he was going to allow the b*****d to do so!
The hydro-punch missed, filling the gap where Murdoch once stood. A waste of energy, but he wasn't going to let himself be taken down so easily by the dragonkin.
Pushing quickly off with his left leg in reaction, there was a reason why he quickly froze the ground when his entire body slid back, diagonally away to Murdoch's left, in a futile attempt to escape the gra --
An ear-splitting crack exploded out of the hallowed platform suddenly, something bursting right beneath where the swordsman's foot once stood and careening towards Murdoch's airborne body, those claws of his just inches away from slashing into the swordsman's face.
Something that looked like a hydro-punch, but much smaller in radius, and more compact into a highly dense shot.
More than enough to literally, halt the heavy foe in midair almost in just a second or two, and even throw the dragonkin back a few meters from the concussive impact. If the dragon was wondering how it was possible --
The scabbard lying beneath the platform was the answer to this sneaky puzzle. The swordsman didn't know whether or not he would be taken by surprise at any point during the fight, and with most of the possible contendors being robustly armored in high defenses, almost all of his conventional attacks would do little to put even a dent against the defense.
Having experienced way too many foes with armor that his weapons couldn't pierce or smash through, using powers was one of the only alternatives to landing an effective blow that can actually injure an opponent.
In this case, it was the scales he would have to bash through if his shots connected, but even without powers, the blade would do nothing but most likely shatter if he slices down at Murdoch's body.
Which is why he threw the scabbard - along with his left blade still sheathed in it - into the water at the beginning of the round. Constructed with a special-made material that can help concentrate energy, the swordsman can manually manipulate his blades and gears individually with his powers, similar to his ability to manipulating water and ice.
If there was a short-point in this, it would be the time it takes to charge up an actual heavy shot to fire.
But he'd given it enough time to charge up for a heavy fight - more and more of the water being drained from the arena and gathered into the weapon hidden underneath the waves has given it enough strength to actually fire a beam straight through the platform, and deliver a near-surprise attack to an airborne opponent coming down from a landing - and possibly intercepting the swordsman had he continued to keep it in reserve.
Granted, there is a no-killing rule enforced in this tournament, the swordsman intentionally had the beam widened so that the impact would be more collateral, breaking muscles and bones - but not even life threatening like his preferred use;
A needle-like beam, with dense pressure that helps amplify the force behind the strike.
It was a desperate response by an unexpected move, but unless the opponent has the ability to weave in midair, it would be enough to launch the foe back with a stunning bruise, and keep Murdoch away from reaching the swordsman in that hair's breadth for a short while.
The blade was cocked back quickly as he slid back as fast as his footing could propel him, the swordsman using the moment to prepare a more, although weaker power charge just in case the foe manages to dodge the surprise attack.
He could definitely foreshadow a sinking platform in a few minutes or so....
Meanwhile, some spectators were booing at the swordsman, finding the repeated use of the beam shots unattractive and not as bloody as they hoped for.
The swordsman is fighting for his life for crying out loud. And they actually expect him to go in heavy against the behemoth's sharp claws and monstrous strength?
He'll pass for now.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 7:08 pm
Blood!? SURE!
As stated in before, Murdoch's trajectory SEEMINGLY had the intent of landing upon his target, Murdoch was to god damn heavy to Hulk jump his a** the distance between them, especially since his leap was more for dodging purposes.
The platform it self would bob once more in repeated succession from the point of going airborne, the strain of weight relieved from the hollow arena as the dragonkin's target would move back with a push of his leg to allow for another ******** blast of water to tear right through the platform, just as Murdoch came down with a solid thud that would be drowned out with the unison clashing of the water beam going through the stage.
Thank the creator I wasn't born with sexual organs! Murdoch thought as he ignored the ghastly blast only several feet before as his claws dug into the layer of ice to halt his slide into it, his target, the beam, and himself were all close to the middle now, enough so that the platform's focal point of balance was now steady enough to allow for Murdoch's weight to shift evenly enough with his ground bound form.
Though he had slowed his slide, he would not stop, he wouldn't allow this opportune moment of disillusion to go by, his target was on the other side of this beam, and he may not be aware of the "dodge."
The ten foot b*****d would loosen the grip on his claws as he shifted to his right then kicked with his opposite leg to shift back in lineage (Keeping in mind his legs are five feet long a-piece), effectively bypassing the beam, his weight adding to his easy sliding on the ice, his long right arm extending in unison to the bypassing motions to unleash the four foot long (with added inches due to the sextupled size of the right fist) length of a massive punch, with the pure intention of sending all, if not most air straight out of his opponent's lungs, the massive right fist aimed for the solar plexus, being it was the first thing Murdoch saw considering it was a big ol' target.
But that wasn't all, besides the force of the punching action behind the fist, Murdoch had yet to stop his momentum, talk about being hit with a brick wall. Kinetic energy is a b***h.
The crowd was going ape s**t, especially the over weight fans! Fractions of the crowd's obese now wanted to go ice skating after the match.
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