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 Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 8:09 pm
 VS.
 Located in an open-roof stadium is the ring where the first round fights will be taking place. The sound of wild cheering from the many fans that have congregated here fill the arena in a loud uproar as cameras zoom in on the action to broadcast the fights all over the world. The floor of the arena is a glossy hard floor with the logo of GTB painted in purple and pink upon the white sheen. Field Measurements: The fighting area is a perfect circle with a 50 yard diameter. The walls that keep the fighters away from the spectators are raised up to ten feet. Ten Count Boundary: The ten count begins whenever the fighter is knocked out of the bounds of the fighting area, such as into the spectator seats. The flying count out is also in effect, which means, if you stay above ground by your own will for more than ten seconds, you will be DQ'd. Fight Ends: After 11:59 PM on Jun 16th. That means when it becomes Jun 17th, fights are over.
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Posted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 4:45 pm
The woman in the long red trench coat didn't make for a very imposing figure. With her coat closed and the collars up around the side of her neck, she might have been mistaken for a potential flasher. The coat trailed down to her calves. It was just big enough to be big, but was not ill fitting. The effect was very flattening. Her hair was tied in a tightly wound pony tail that reached to the small of her back. She was in matching red work boots that looked like they had been treated with dye in a rather hurried fashion to achieve the color. What did she care, this wasn't fashion weekly, and she was no supermodel.
The noise was unsettling when she took to the field. The crowd, was cheering? Adaire had to wonder who they were cheering for, if it was even possible for her to have a fan base. Most likely they were cheering for a good fight, and not the unknown warrior who was making her first attempt ever at any sort of tournament fighting.
For far to long, she had relied on her revolver, it had been her constant security blanket, but here, there was no security blanket. No guns, grenades, rifles, and most certainly no revolver. This would be about what she could achieve on her own, without a gun in her hand. It almost felt, like a declaration of independence, to even be standing here. The opponent about to stand before her, was more than just a fellow fighter, more than a competitor, he was a test. Cyril would be the first test on whether she could hold her own without relying on an expensive weapon, device or trick.
Her boots rubbed the floor of the arena, a circle half a football field long, but practically a dance floor. There was no place to take cover, yet plenty of room to run. It made her think of the old cliche, 'You can run but you can't hide'.
This was it. Adaire cracked her knuckles before nervously pawing her coat. Slightly trembling hands made sure everything was in place. The crowd was still in a frenzy. for whatever reason she didn't care. They could be tuned out, as it was time to focus.
She couldn't help but smile as she waited.
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Posted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 9:49 pm
Making his way up the small tunnel into the arena, Cyril prepared himself with last minute stretches. These consisted mainly of small practice swings, and articulated movements to give him additional grace and speed in the battle. His movements were fluid and simple, the weapons merely a direct addition to his body, the energy of himself flowing through them evenly. This allowed Cyril to directly attach his psyche to that of the weapon in his hands, even if those weapons were his bare hands. Placing his short sword back in it's loop on his side, he held the spear firmly in his hands, both ends shining brightly against the light of the arena.
He stepped into the ring finally, a large arena it was, thousands upon thousands of spectators cheering and jeering. The life of a gladiator is what Cyril was living. Such a disgrace to his lineage... Yet, somehow, all the yelling, chanting combined to give an invigorating sense of being. It was altogether an ethereal moment, and yet at the same time, it allowed him to be grounded, making him see with the clarity of a blank mind, and a truer sight. Cyril was ready for he coming battle, it had taken every ounce of his own power for preparation, but he was indeed ready for this.
Cyril's features were blank, and a complete reversal of what she had seen previous. His shield upon his arm shone brightly, the silver gleam almost blinding in its purity. The shaft in his main hand, Cyril held it lightly, the fluid movement of his body as practiced as it could have been, it was beyond that of even second nature.. It was his primary nature, that of a warrior. A primal being who knew not of the world of diplomacy and etiquette, but a being of bestial proficiency, and one who knew the true toll it took for a body to fall.
He stood across from his opponent, ready to take her on. His sinewy body pulsing with energy, the veins apparent in his bound body. The light armor upon him a mix of leather and metal, giving a dull brilliance to his Mediterranean tanned skin, which had not formed a layer of adrenaline laced sweat quite yet..
Cyril bowed his head to Red. Everything about his being was entirely different than what she had seen previous. He did not note her as the acquaintance she was, but merely a simple adversary, and most properly, his opponent. It was not malicious intent in his visage, but something even more fearful. An obligated, and fanatical sense of duty to do what must be done in the field of battle. And that clear, objective view is all that could be read from the bleak blankness of Cyril's body.
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Posted: Tue Jun 08, 2010 8:03 pm
For a minute, Red gazed as he practiced, then as he assumed a defensive stance. Red eyes gazing through him. For a long while, she remained, watching from the opposite side of the field. There was something truly Spartan about him
In her opinion, attackers generally had the initial disadvantage against among even matched fighters when it wasn't a surprise attack. The attacker had to advance, position herself, and launch an assault while the defender could remain in place and concentrate completely on her defense, making it easier to take advantage of any flaw in the attack to counter effectively.
Damnit Red, this isn't a strategy session, just fight already.
Adaire allowed her body to loosen up and kept the pressure on the front of her feet. Tilting slightly forward and keeping her field of vision of on the opponent ahead of her, she ran towards him. Nine kilometers an hour was no exertion for her, and as long as he made no motion to hurl the spear at her she would not break her approach.
Now for quick strategy, his weapon was a pole-arm. Not necessarily good news for her, as it made some of her more prominent attack options somewhat improbable if he was proficient, and she wasn't about to doubt his proficiency. An idea came to her.
She would continue to run at him, unarmed, looking for all the world as if she was committed to making a reckless charge to get within close frontal range, where the weapon he held in his right hand was less effective. Was she inviting herself to be impaled, or was something else afoot?
Judging by his arm length, the length of the spear, the possible extension of his body by a forward step, and however fast he was moving, she would estimate the attack range of his weapon as closely as she could. If done correctly, she would break her gait smoothly and come to a very short slide to just at the edge of his range. Her stance would remain ever loose, so she could arch her back, pivot, or side-step with ease against an oncoming attack.
Her plan was to draw his attack. If he didn't anticipate the stop, she had made a successful illusion of the opening for him to spear her through the gut rather simply. The question was, would he bite, and if he did, would her rather simple plan work. It was time to test whether she could gain the advantage in timing or speed, timing being everything.
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 6:11 pm
Slow..
That was all that could describe the world as she began to move. Her initiation began to unfurl his more primal instincts. Setting himself, his right foot back, and facing her with his side, so as to reduce the hit zone of his own body, he leaned down, further minimizing his available surface area, and allowing him to set himself for a counter. His shield covered all but his helm in his low position, and the spear in his right hand now pointed forth about three feet beyond him, aimed low, giving him more room to move up if necessary.
SSSHHHKKK
And with that the razor sharp tip of his spear cut into the surface of the smooth marble, standing a giving way to a solid hold for the oncoming rush. Cyril's mind held calm, and he knew that she wasn't living up to her full potential. Red's body language alone had given away that much at the ball, not to mention her choice of appropriated clothing. She concealed her abilities as much as she had her features.
Now, prepared for her run, he knew she would most likely attempt to provoke his counter, or at least change direction, for it was more than foolish to rush an opponent who directly out-ranged you. Something was afoot. So, he stood firm, hunched low behind his shield, all that could be seen of him were his most piercing eyes, beyond the darkened slits of his scarred helm.
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 7:32 pm
A multitude of options were considered in a few seconds span, most of the frontal assault scenario's she could think of ended with her getting stabbed by that spear, or jammed by that shield and then stabbed by that spear. From the front he was nearly impervious to direct assault.
This was one against one, on an open plane, with plenty of space, so she had hope she could pull this one out despite his defensive tactics. However, they were on Cyril's end of the ring, as she had came to him and not vice-versa.
Red skidded to a stop inside the edge of his attack range as planned, then jumped back to what she thought was just outside his range without him moving when she saw there was no response on the edge of his range. Without a word or a moments notice, Red spun a few degrees to her left, kept on the balls of her feet, leaned forward, and took off. In a handful of seconds she was sprinting around the outer perimeter of his melee attack range at nearly 14 kilometers an hour, daring him to attempt to keep a face-to-face position while maintaining that defensive pose. His visage was constantly kept in mind, as he was in the corner of her right eye at all time.
The right hand slipped into her coat as she ran and unsheathed a two foot long bowie knife. The blade was of quality forged high speed stainless steel curved only slightly, well polished and well sharpened. Sharp enough to cut, but not so sharp that blade would chip easily against another weapon. There was no way she was going to attempt getting into range unarmed. All the while, she kept her awareness up, lest he attack or do something unexpected.
The question was, would this create any opening, or could he turn and reset his defensive formation before she flanked him? If she could use her natural speed to flank his right side before he unset himself and faced frontwards, then she would be in a position to get in a strike. It was really dependent on how fast he could adjust his defensive position. She doubted he could do it fast enough to avoid having her come at him from the flank before he could completely reposition himself. What she would do depended completely on how well he could position himself against her flanking movement.
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 7:49 pm
That was it. It was exactly the opening he wanted.. She set herself up. Cyril did not think it could be true. As she jumped back, he had been about to pounce, already tense and wound, his counterattack on the go.. But. She had changed it up. Unforunately, for her disadvantage. As she darted to the side and around, he leaped forward, to regain some distance lost, mid jump he swung around, leading her slightly with his tight spin, and hurled his spear towards her with virulent force.
WHOOOOSSSHHHHHH!!
The whistle of the light spear could easily be heard as he focused watching it ahead of its target, awaiting to cross paths, as both moved in their lightning quick trajectory. As his had was now free, Cyril retained his balance moving in the air, positioning his feet to land solidly..
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Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 9:53 pm
Given Red's experience with projectile weapons, that was one of the things she certainly expected him to do in the realm of possibilities, something she even hoped for to some extant, as it would get that damned spear out of his hand.
Once he leapt forward she would see him move out of her line of sight as he went up a forward like a coiled snake. The instant he moved forward, she pivoted slightly on the ball of her left foot, changing her trajectory just enough to keep his full visage in the corner of her right eye. The most likely target was her torso, as it presented the most area and would give the most impact without killing her. All the while, she knew if she presented a consistent speed and predictable arc of trajectory that she'd make it easy for him to compensate his aim ahead of her if he decided to throw it. This wasn't a track marathon, it wasn't like she had to keep running, certainly not directly into an oncoming spear that could potentially skewer her. She also thought she knew that he wouldn't aim low, as the target presented was not nearly as opportunistic.
Turning! Arm Forward! Release!
At the arm forward stage, when he was committed to releasing his spear irrevocably. She would skid, slowing down drastically and leaning her body backwards from the direction she had been running. With her sudden and drastic slow down it would most likely fly past her, leaving the ring harmlessly, seeing as he compensated for running speed. She wasn't about to be eliminated by a single projectile
That out of the way, she could attack in earnest. Adaire regained her footing and bolted at him as he regained his. Her knife was tilted to the side and raised at chest level while her left fist remained coiled back next to her waist as she approached fast with the intent of a flyby slash at his right arm. The idea was to run past his right side, slashing his right arm open to some degree with the bowie knife as she passed at close range. Of course, that was just the general idea, not a full blown committed attack just yet. He would certainly have something up his sleeve as she approached.
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Posted: Sat Jun 12, 2010 10:49 am
The spear missed..
Not surprising, considering the medium distance between them. Even if he had hurtled the thing at her with all his strength, she would have had more than enough time to react to his action. Nonetheless, she continued to encroach up on him. Now though, she had a knife.. Well, to be honest, it was a short sword of sorts.
And with that, she charged in at him, thinking that her full out attack was something of a drastic improvement. The blade in its position would be an easy fix if his blade was drawn. But, as always nothing could be just as easy as you would like, so as she drew closer to him, leading to a point of no return from her charge, Cyril burst forth with lightning speed his hand raised to meet her blade...
SHHHHHTTKKKKKKKK!!!
The blade slid neatly through his hand, his fingers parallel to the edge of the blade, all the way down to the guard his hand followed, the world moving slowly as his fingers curled in for hand control. As his hand gained control of hers, and her weapon, Cyril shot forth with his helmeted head, leading directly at her own.. He moved forward with heavily gritted teeth, biting away the pain in his hand. With both of their opposite momentum, This blow would easily make her dizzy, the light padding in his own helmet making for some consolation to the blow.
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Posted: Sat Jun 12, 2010 4:27 pm
First blood?
When her opponent burst forward at her, she noticed his hand was reaching to slide in along her blade, parallel to the cutting surface. A simple upward motion of Adaire's wrist would angle the blade upwards about thirty degrees just as his hand would make contact. This would push the cutting edge of the blade into the lower part of his fingers as he tried to grip it. Her elbow would flex forward from its relaxed position, taking advantage of the double momentum to provide a great deal of force for her slash.
The blade would slice along her right side, so if four of his fingers weren't severed by his own attempt slide his hand across her blade and catch it, he would at least have a very deep gash across the base of all the fingers on his right. It would be a bleeding cut that would make it very difficult to handle a blade. And most likely, the tendons controlling the motions of his fingers would be neatly severed. The movement would also slide her blade away from the Spartan's hand, if he tried to grip it, he would only be aiding a deeper cut. It would go back to her side, her right arm stretched outward at the finish of the motion.
Now it might stand to reason that his hand meeting her blade would absorb some of the momentum from their mutual charges, unless his fingers were cut clean off, which was unlikely. So it was possible, that she could attempt to avoid the helmet rushing at her forehead, as it likely wasn't incoming as fast as it could have been.
With a bronze shield between them it would be somewhat more difficult to affect the strongest possible headbutt, as it would at least slightly widen the gap between them as he charged.
The best she could do was bring her coiled fist upwards while opening it to push off his shield. The effect would be to further lessen the blow. She'd also bring her head slightly to the right side by bending her neck slightly.
There would be a a bump as the right side of his helmet thudded into the left side of her head before she could completely push back. She'd go backwards a few feet, blood dripping from her forehead and the vision in her left eye a bit blurry for the moment. Her head throbbing slightly from the hit. It was a close call, if they had hit full force, she'd probably have a cracked skull.
((Edit because shield placement was wrong))
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:39 pm
Swiftly, in a single motion, her blade ripped smoothly along the base of his fingers, fortunately, even though he could not react as quickly as he would have hoped, he at least was able to retain his fighting hand, in some modicum of use. Sadly he was also leaking a copious amount of fluid. His arm flinched back from the tearing wound, and as she was pushed back, Cyril would let a bestial roar, whipping around low, the sharpened edge of his small shield whipping around in hopes of connecting with the woman's chest.
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 9:37 pm
The crowd would most likely go wild at the sight of blood, because crowds that came to see events like this were particularly bloodthirsty.Quote: Cyril would let a bestial roar, whipping around low, the sharpened edge of his small shield whipping around in hopes of connecting with the woman's chest.
A wounded warrior being by far the most dangerous type, Adaire was lucky to have pushed off his shield when she did, as she was going backward by the time he initiated an ? lateral outward extension ? with a whipping motion intended to cut across Adaire's chest.
It was certainly within range to catch her, and there where basically three options to deal with it. She would attempt the safest possible way to avoid it.
First, while he was bringing his shield arm up and out for the slice, she would step back another foot and brace herself on her left foot. There would then be enough distance and enough time that she could pivot and lean back toward the left as she launched a high kick. This would have to be done as he was sliding the shield across, as the kick would come up below the shield to hit it. In order to give him as little time possible to adjust, the move would be executed just as the shield was on its way. The kick would be timed to bring her boot underneath his shield and simply prevent him from lowering it as he sliced, more or less forcing him to go through with the at the same height as he intended. As only the edge of the heel of her boot would make contact and her leg would be at an angle down toward her hip, preventing him from slicing her leg.
While in this position, her left hand was poised to catch her if she faltered while her right arm stayed bent at her side and kept a tight grip of her knife.
The kick would cause her coat to fall back on her raised leg, revealing more of the jeans that were tucked into her boot. By the time he could gather for another move, her leg would be back down and she would dart backwards, hopefully, six or seven feet, enough to be out of melee range.
If all of the above went well, she'd move in again. This time. Her knife was held upwards, the blade held vertically in front of her face. Elbows remained bent as her left hand supported the back of her blade. She ran forward again at moderate speed for herself, about 14kph, making sure to stay toward his right as she went for another flyby slice of his right arm.
The attempt was to again use her speed to strike the right arm with a deep lengthwise slice. As long as she stayed toward his wounded side, she might be able to at least use her speed to attack him from the flank depending on his counter. Some attention remained on his shield.
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 10:30 pm
Her acts were definitely showing him that he was not even a competition for her, seeing as he hadn't laid upon her even an effective blow. At this point, nearly enraged he saw her coming in once more, and was tired of being played a fool. Now she was going to gain some form of retribution at least. As she came through with her strike, he raised his shield, so she would glide by with a slight spark, and as soon as she passed, he would spin up and forward launching his shield from his arm now at the back of her midsection, with more than enough force, that upon contact, it would knock her sprawling on her face. Cyril had had enough of the games, and was more than eager enough at this point.
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 5:38 pm
Quote: As she came through with her strike, he raised his shield, so she would glide by with a slight spark,
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 7:11 pm
s**t......
It was as if he knew exactly what she wanted to do initially before she even did it, but then again, she was running to flank his injured hand, so that had to give him some idea of what she had in mind.
As he brought his shield up and and pivoted to keep his defenses facing her she slowed her run and swerved to stay out range. There would be no reason to run her blade across a bronze shield, that would simply be a foolish way to dull her blade unnecessarily. So the blade wouldn't fall. Nor was she going to simply rush by at a straight angle and have her back turned on him. As said before she needed keep an eye on that shield.
The best way to do that in flyby attack was simple back step, or in her case, a backwards run. Not as if there was any obstacles she needed to worry about and plenty of room to run. Although her retreating speed wasn't what it could have been if her back was facing him.
Seeing this rather obviously, what would her opponent do?
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