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 Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 8:57 pm
Rhoslyn chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair before rubbing the back of his neck.
"Nah, only one. Been cut open enough times to see for myself. I just digest really quick and my stomach is a figurative black hole."
He nommed a whole taquito in one bite, possibly making some gay guy jealous of his ability to fit such a long object into his mouth without gagging. After swallowing it, he idly TK-stole a bottle of wine from the bar, opened it, and took a swig to wash it down before answering her question.
"Six something. Three, I think... so he's like, half a foot taller than I am. Actually, I think he weighs about twenty pounds more than I do, too, if I recall correctly. Either way, yeah, he's a HUEGGAI."
A checking of the profiles did actually confirm that Deitric was six inches taller and twenty-eight pounds heavier. If both were limited to just human limits, both would easily qualify as people you didn't want to get punched in the head by, although he'd pack more force into the hit than Rhoslyn would.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:08 pm
Cyrus gently smirked as he with his free hand grabbed his cigarette and threw it on the ground only to be met by his Armani leather shoes. He looked down at Faustina and winked slyly as he facepalmed himself with a faked yet very real look of earnest dissapointment.
"Madmoiselle, what have you gotten yourself into this time. Just because papa hired me as your full time body guard doesn't mean you can go around conversing with folk here too recklessly. Some of these people would have your head and heart served on a platter just to mess with you're father. Haven't you learned from anything I've taught you about the arts of observation?"
He said so in a tone that sounded as if he genuinely knew Faustina for the last 10 years or so, and with his skills at the art of theatre, it would take only a real master at reading people to figure out what he was doing. Where the talent came from was a mystery, but his past amnesia makes many things about Cyrus a mystery.
Regardless he looked over at Eredas and sighed deeply as he bowed his head.
"I apologize if any offense was brought about by milady. I see that you have a understanding of our family history, and I hope you understand that anything her father has done in sin doesn't pass down to her. Now, if you'll excuse us..."
He said so as he began to walk with her away from the table towards the walls on the other side, making sure to avoid the center of the dance floor.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:09 pm
Saphen "Sey wait it isn't an ordinary..."CRRRAAACCCKKK "IT'S ENHANCED!!!" He yelled into her ear and she winced at the cry, a sudden exclamation of her own bursting from her lips as she felt the man's shoulder wrench out of his socket toward her chest. This was definitely not good. Saphen "It is....going to move through my body until it gets to my rib cage..." his arm twitched as if to confirm this fear. Her heart skipped a beat at this particular nugget of information and to affirm her fears his arm twitched against her chest, making her grip tighten protectively around him. She'd have to deal with the poison first then, this poison that twists men's flesh from the inside. "Saphen. Please brace yourself." She didn't have time to numb any of the pain that she was going to cause him or that he was currently experiencing if she was going to try and stop the poison from reaching his ribcage. Holding him by his shoulder and pressing him securely against her chest, Sey raised her free hand an armslength away from his chest and closed her hand as though she was holding something before stabbing it into Saphen's shoulder to pierce through his axillary vein in a flash of light. Blood trickled down and around the sliver of glowing energy that was sticking out of him right now and Sey's hand flew from the end of the shard to grab his thigh. There was absolutely no dalliance in the vice grip of her touch, however, as the mixture of divine and light energy that was white magic twisted through her limb and into his, the healer forcing his bone marrow into production overdrive. "Breathe. Breathe with me." She cooed, silently begging the forgiveness of her friends as his blood soaked the skirts of her gorgeous dress.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:12 pm
"No wonder you always keep the bar stocked with food." She picked up a strawberry from her plate and dipped it into the little bit of cream that she put onto the plate.
Her eyes followed the bottle as it floated through the air and chuckled. He probably was the king of shop lifting in his younger days. Though, he technically didn't steal anything since it was free.
Iru whistled. She was only about five foot six, which was a normal height for a girl, but still very short compared to most of the guys on gaia. "There always has to be one insanely tall guy." She idly licked the cream from the strawberry before taking a bite. "What's his personality like?"
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:13 pm
Far above out of sight or sound from any of the guests and their respective dates did a small bird flock to an open window Paine to observe. A raven, the carrion creature seemed normal enough though it's luminescent stark white eyes betrayed it's true nature. A wayward passenger riding on a fair wind or possibly bent on a more sinister purpose. It was unclear, as any tell tale sign of apparent danger was veiled in the glossy black feathers of the crow.
Spotting it's target, the nimble bird would glide downward to perch itself precariously upon the shimmering finery of a large chandelier. Observation was the key before any move was to be made.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:21 pm
There were do-gooders in the world. There were white knights, whose sole purpose in life was to help people. James knew a few people like that.
And then there were people who were whose true goal was nothing more then the slit between a woman's legs.
"Oh, is that so?"
There were so many holes in what the man was doing that if James couldn't see it, he'd shoot himself, on principle. But he'd play along.
When Cyrus turned his head over to look at James, all he'd get was the man's left fist in his teeth as James sucker-punched him with enough force to knock him straight onto his back. The daemon-slayer would then stand up and crack his knuckles with a bloodthirsty grin on his face.
"So by your logic, I should ignore Faustina because she's innocent, but then I should kill you, because you are a goon of her father's, yes?"
Dumbass boy was dumb, and in way over his head now.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:50 pm
Cyrus smiled gently as he sat on the ground and as electrcity began to rush openly up and down his spare right arm and his eyes began to glow and inhumane azure, though he was pure blood human in breed. He smirked at Eredas with a grin of someone who didn't fear death, no matter how stupid or bold the concept, and wasn't afraid to die.
"Now ser, you could try that, but I think you'd find it better for the both of us to walk away from this. I wouldn't want to make a mess at this wonderful ball, nor I would I want to have to kill someone in front of milady, or have a demon slayer kill a human like myself and betray his conduct. It's lose-lose, but in the end you're call"
He said as he would clench in his hand to reveal the specially designed brass knuckled he wore under his formal gloves, and he was massing electricity all along the arm. From there he began to stand up and would stare Eredas down and waited for him to react.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:50 pm
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:53 pm
A few people in the crowd probably gasped; Omi had proven to be an accomplished counter-boxer in the past, and it showed. Deitric couldn't hear them though, but it didn't matter. He'd learned that fact in their first fight after taking his share of stinging punches, and now he only had to properly guard himself and hopefully he could gauge the other man's reactions right. This time, he had. Time seemed to slow down and congeal as the two warrior's actions criss-crossed, each grasping for their own intents. Omi right hand flashed forward like the tip of a lash, but by punching with his right hand when Deitric had made his feint, he had thrown right into the brave's guard. Part of the faux-step to the left meant that his own right side would be exposed momentarily, but that side still maintained a raised arm and fist to guard the face and neck. Omi's probing attack smacked dully against the tribesman's forearm, bruising the hard flesh beneath and causing his fingers to twitch in response to the sudden tension placed on the corded muscle. So much happening in so little time, the man's fist might have even made it past and clipped Deitric's face - he couldn't tell in the flurry of combat. He'd done exactly what the big tribesman had hoped for - stand in place, and lower his guard on his right side somehow. Deitric's body might have swayed slightly with the jab's force, but Omi hadn't caught him flush; having his guard jabbed and prodded at wasn't going to slow the bigger man down this time or knock him off balance. If Omi had struck true, or with more weight behind the blow to shove Deitric, it might have disrupted his opponent enough to mitigate the oncoming blow. As it was, the end result was largely the same: Touch-down -- XXXtwist -- XXXXXXTHOCKWith Omi's right fist (probably) somewhere between popping Deitric in the forearm and being retracted, the dusky skinned warrior's own came forward like a train with nothing in guard in place to absorb the blow, his body torquing and twisting at the waist and pivoting at the hips to drive every ounce of force behind the blow when he (hopefully) smashed four out of five knuckles of his left hand right into Omi's face - somewhere between the base of the jaw, and the temple. That was probably going to hurt a whole hell of a lot more than the dull throb of pain in Deitric's right forearm. My offense is impetuous, my defense is impregnable; I want his heart, I want to eat his children Because Deitric might have punched like Tyson, but he wasn't crazy like Tyson. If Omi was still awake after being on the receiving end of that wallop, he'd be lucky to keep all his teeth, or walk away without having to have his jaw wired shut to help it heal. If he'd bowled the smaller man over, Deitric would - respectfully - bounce back to give him room to get up, if he was awake and able to get himself back to his feet again. That was assuming he'd caught the man, of course - on Gaia, one could never be sure until they saw it for their own eyes. [2/10]
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 9:55 pm
As the holy scalpel pierced his body his mind went blank for a moment.
Whether that moment lasted hours or days or even seconds he had no idea...but it gave him time to think
What is the definition of a Healer?
–noun
1. a person or thing that heals.
2. faith healer.
Hmm...that isn't quite what this feels like...
The bard considered looking for another definition.
Doctor perhaps...
–noun
1. a person licensed to practice medicine, as a physician, surgeon, dentist, or veterinarian. Well I do feel like an injured animal...
2. a person who has been awarded a doctor's degree: I really hope she trained for this somehow...
3. Doctor of the Church...who likes to make you feel like HELL!!!
Sey "Breathe. Breathe with me." She cooed, silently begging the forgiveness of her friends as his blood soaked the skirts of her gorgeous dress.
Saphen had returned to the land of the living, his own life essence warming his body like a thick blanket as he gripped her body with frantic fear. The pain was everywhere now...he wasn't even sure what was fixed and what was broken. It was as if every nerve in his entire being was screaming in perfect harmony...
A choir of pain...and tonight was their big performance!
It took a few moments to realize what she was saying...she needed him to relax... The pain was so gut wrenching, however, that it was nearly impossible for him to think.
Emptiness once more...
Back to this eh? he considered to himself while he was peacefully unconscious.
Don't know what I am complaining about...this isn't so bad...I need to relax...how did I do that before a performance?...They all seem so long ago...oh wait...I remember now...I use to count the measure. So simple eh? Let's start back from the beginning...just like Cecile use to say.
1...2...3...4...2...2...3...4....3...2...3...4...4...2...3...4....and again...
She would suddenly hear him whisper as she worked her magic...his mind barely with her as he repeated aloud...
"1...2...3...4," and so on with each passing measure of a song that never seemed to end...Once again....
He was lost in music.
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:01 pm
Faustina was young. Faustina was inexperienced. But, in spite of her self-condescending opinions, she was certainly not incapable. As Cyrus spoke, her eyes would remain upon James, not trusting him for a single moment, at least not until they were safely away, and a good thing she had! She was quick to see the tell-tale contracting of muscles pulling James' hand back, and just as quick to react.
Even as Cyrus began his own defense, Faustina would move into place, taking up her own action against James' aggressions. Her left hand would move across her, an open hand spreading and lifting on the outer side of James' arm, then come back to sweep before her, playing on a cyclical re-direction of the punch's momentum to lead it towards her left and away from Cyrus' face. This would lead her own hand to rotate, its palm now against Jame's wrist, its hand already contracting to grab the limb as it came to its final position, outstretched beside her and crossing over James' front.
Standing between James and Cyrus, Faustina's intense and mis-matched glare would bore into James' eyes, her right hand held tense and ready at her side. Her lips would peel back, and she would snarl, "Leave my father's matters to my father, and leave us be."
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:12 pm
"No, I think its better if I just end your miserable little existence right now. Killing Roen is just my job. Killing you would be a favor to the damn world."
Break his conduct? Hah! Cyrus didn't know s**t about James Eredas, and it showed in his naive words.
James held up his own right hand, a ball of fire igniting into being in the palm of his hand. His own countence grew into a snarl of his own as he entered the vicious mindset of Dou.
"Faustina. Your sacrifice over there wants to buy you a head-start. You should probably take it and run."
"Like father like daughter." he needled her happily.
Mode: Path of Dou
3/10
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:20 pm
What were they all doing?
This party had gone from a hip and happenin' shindig to a brawlfest between all of the fighters. Didn't any of them just want to sit back and enjoy the time they had before the real fights? Yasuo didn't understand why it was always high strung tensions that drove fighters to, well, fight before their moments of truth. Probably testosterone or something...
Bah, the shinobi of Iwagakure was focused on other pressing matters, such as planning ahead for what was surely close at hand. A night of drinking was not a good way to start the morning after, when a fight was close at hand - nothing really went well whenever Yasuo caught himself an ol' case of the poison heaves. So, he had promised himself prior to showing up that he'd only have a maximum of two drinks. And so... he took up a third to make it a deal.
He wasn't woozy, just... "happy". The drinks were done, but the party was just getting started. Yasuo raised a hand and yelled aloud to all within earshot, not caring whom he disrupted,
"Who the hell want's t'fight meh?!?!"
Blatant, honest and complete and polar opposite to what he had been thinking before. Maybe drinking was a bad idea after all...
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:30 pm
Cyrus snarled as electricity began to flow through both his arms and his gloves began to dissipate, revealing the brass knuckled he wore under as clear as day. He held up his hands in a boxer stance with both hands covering the face as his feet followed a stance mixing between Mui-Thai and Kickboxing as the back right foot stood straight and firm as the left foot kept loose in a 'cat stance' on toe. Cyrus looked at Faustina and gave her a thumbs up as he began to charge at James
"Run now milady! I'll deal with this mannerless fool, just get out of the perimeter..."
Cyrus ran at impressive speeds as he would move to the right side of Faustina if she still stood there or to the right of James straight forward as he fake a right cross to only throw a brutal left hook aimed at what seemed to be James's face but was subtly arked down towards the higher portion of the joint of his right shoulder. The punch was cleverly executed by someone who had some experience fighting, and the full body motion into the last minute of the punch would give power and form behind the brass knuckles without giving it away. Also, the electricity wasn't for show, should Cyrus land to blow or should James even make minor physical contact with him, he was in for one hell of a suprise.
3/10
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Posted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 10:31 pm
Deitric. A man with a will so intense, it made even Barsait have to acknowledge it. Steadfast and crippling was his resolve and his strikes, like none other Barsait had faced. However, if the enemy was rigid against the flow of time and space, than it was the [Serpentine Manipulation Artist] who could in the ocean of chaos produce the most absurd counters, the most stinging assaults. In short, he was no slouch either..
Obviously a "fan" of boxing, Barsait was no fool as to take his eyes off his opponent while throwing a strike. No matter how much rage you feel, a calm mind in combat is always superior; an analytical mind ten-fold. His initial plan of off-balancing Deitric did not come through, but as his right arm retracted, impending hell was inbound for his skull, Omi's right eye socket~ temple depending. Not enough time to block, most would buckle and prepare to brace for impact.
1-2-3. Here came Barsait's famous brand of revenge.
His right arm was not extended but bent at the elbow, front of the fist facing Deitric if one would recall. This served no practicality for blocking an impending strike, but it did allow the arm to shift to his right violently and with quite a bit of force, fist falling the slightest hair to the left as the arm rotated counterclockwise - elbow-blade hastily crashing into Deitric's bullet-train left arm before the fist struck. Perhaps Omi's right strike wasn't powerful, but it was much easier to retract and re-purpose as a result. Another advantage of not throwing powerhouse strikes carelessly, even hooks: if your arm gets straightened out in any way shape or form mid-motion, it can cripple an otherwise knockout-worthy punch.
Perhaps the fist still would have struck plush enough before it could be re-purposed, which is why again, Barsait had a "stage two:" simply tilting his head to the left. Applying force from an unopposed direction to Deitric's left fist while shifting his head and upper-body as much as possible in the opposite direction- there was little chance Deitric's tooth-splitting strike would hit its intended target, given it was the general side of his skull being the intended target. Perhaps Barsait's body would have been a better target at that stage, as his right side was left completely open at the stage prior to this.
Still, no time for regrets. Stage three! Omi was no kind soul when it came to an opening. After all, had he done things even slightly differently, he may have been on the floor unconscious. Omi's left arm, untouched at this point, happily shot forward that small distance to dig nimble fingertips into Deitric's mid-right shoulder, with emphasis on dig - fingertips digging into the underside and the thumb putting pressure on the topside. This was to discourage that arm immediately rousing into battle just a bit, yet more importantly was to steady Deitric for..
Omi's famous right fist. The jab earlier did ironically serve the purpose of gauging distance, for now it was inside of Deitric's guard, fist facing the brave's skull plush. No hesitation what he would do here, as the enemy cobra taunted Omi to bare his fangs.
A short-range counter hook with his dominant hand, no whipping shot but rather a full-force punishing hammer intended to crash into Deitric's face mid-center. The serpent was going to bite, and bite hard now that he was within the eye of the storm.
Nothing held back in a shot like that. It lacked a running-start, but both men were informed enough to know you didn't need that to throw a punch that could kill. You simply needed the right angle, of which Barsait had.
There would be blood.
[2/10]
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