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 Posted: Sun Jun 13, 2010 2:27 pm
With the intensity of the cheering rising in crescendo, the swordsman himself would start to get into a light rhythm with his attacks. He could feel a light indent of the blade cutting into something soft before coming into a violent, upward resistance, most likely from the armor on Rylen's left bracer. Foiled, but the swordsman didn't mind the result. With the force of his strike dissipating to the foe's left, the swordsman knew that as long as he maintained the threat from his right blade to occupy Rylen's left arm, he would be able to limit the range of motions Rylen can perform. Though, he also knew that this wasn't going to hold for long; his blades are only effective within a certain range. Having faced off in-range fighters before, he is more than aware of certain methods and techniques that can keep his blades at bay while the fighters move in to render his weapons ineffective.
Just like Rylen is pressured not to make any mistakes, the swordsman is pressured to not allow Rylen any openings which he can take advantage of.
The left blade stands ready to perform a follow-up on the person.
Half expecting that Rylen might retreat and put distance between the two for safety, the swordsman would be amused when Rylen tried to close the distance for a more personal fight. He'll have to give the fighter some credit; not many people have the guts to go into danger willingly and have the possibility of being stabbed or cut as a result.
Brave. Perhaps reckless with a touch of foolishness, but brave.
He'll have to give Rylen an appropriate response to commend his willful plunge into danger.
In one motion, the swordsman took a half-step in with his left foot, switching from his right side stance to a left side stance. His right blade will be pulled up and away from Rylen's bracer, the right hand raised so that it was just above the swordsman's head, a bit to the right. Using the wrist and arm for maneuvering, the tip of the blade would quickly orient itself in a counter-clockwise motion to point down at Rylen from above, maintaining a dangerous presence for the foe to get close for confrontation.
Simultaneously, the swordsman raised his bent left arm gently during the step-in, prompting the blade to follow an almost sharp, upward thrust that quickly placed the sharp edge of his blade a few inches above Rylen's left shoulder, within the foe's guard. Using the wrist and the extension of his left arm to push the blade down in a flash, the blade would then glide down right towards...
Rylen's left neck, near the jugular veins before the sharp edge would pause short of delivering a dangerous blow, preventing the edge from cutting into the vital point accidentally.
Though...
Fwoom!
A flaming light of hot heat would rush past during the swordsman's shift in stance, the fireball coming with a vengeance.
"Gh!"
Too close for comfort and almost blinding to look at directly, the swordsman squinted his eyes, turning his head a bit to the left as he cursed under his breath, actually feeling the trailing heat from the projectile warm up the area near his chest. His left blade twitched slightly under the surprise, the sharp edge shifting a bit near the neck if the attempt is successful. But regaining his composure quickly, the blade would stop short of doing anything unfortunate while his mind went into overdrive.
...Damn thing almost knicked him on the side, the projectile barely passing by a few centimeters where his right shoulder was before just a second ago. Thank goodness the fireball was small - or else the swordsman would have to re-experience the pleasure of being burned. Another number added to the countless amount of times he's been burned, torched, set on fire, etc. for the past few years in fights and tournaments.
Anyways, getting back to the fight at hand...
This was the only mistake that Rylen left himself open to. Using the brace as a shield and keeping the blade out from attacking is a good tactic - even better if the swordsman was using one blade. But outstretching the arm to go for the swordsman's hand meant that the shield would be too far to pull back or wield effectively... especially if the swordsman attacked the same area from a different angle.
A very small mistake indeed.
But would it put the wolf out of commission?
A second orb would materialize close to the swordsman's presence in the meantime, mimicking the first one as it floated passively in its idle state. Never expecting things to go well, the swordsman maintained his guard up despite the given moment.
More light reflected off of the blades' glistening surface, the swordsman's gear and wear cooling down rapidly as if foretelling a potential act in the next few seconds that may change the flow of this fight...drastically, should things backfire.
Orb -2
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Posted: Mon Jun 14, 2010 8:30 pm
It was as if a red light flashed brightly and a klaxon blared loudly in Rylen's mind, signifying a sudden heart-pounding change in the course of the fight. As always he needed to dance on the edge of a razor in this fight-literally-and he needed to be able to move at a split second's notice. And he got that notice.
First, his wrist grab failed as Snow recoiled his arm. This would not stop Rylen from trying by taking a wide step forward, but that alone gave him the first clue that he was more open then he would have liked with nothing to show for it. His Fire Starter had been made in an attempt to keep Snow from pressing forward, but not only did Snow move before the attack had been launched, but his movement put him out of the line of the close-range ball of fire by happenstance. In the words of the internet
epic fail
Now, Rylen could never argue he was the smartest fighter or most cautious fighter. But, he tried to make every exchange ultimately end more favorably for him than his opponent. For now, that meant he needed to move if he wanted to survive this particular exchange and see his way through the fight.
Snow's step had been the next major signal, like a big, shiny [WARNING] sign. The katana in Snow's left hand wanted blood and struck out at the first sign of an opening. And yet Rylen knew he had been risking such an outcome the entire time. So he already had one hasty option prepared in his mind.
Get cut.
Not the best option, no. But victory for Snow would not come so quickly either.
Rylen's leading foot dug into the ground and his body jerked up and away. He made a series of swift hops backwards, his bushy tail cutting a wide swath through the air and then jerking back again to allow him to maintain the kind of balance most mere humans could not even dream of attaining. His right forearm simultaneously dropped to avoid the path of the blade. That may have been a futile effort borne out of sheer reflex given the actual aim of Snow's weapon, but then Rylen's hopping, back-pedaling step brought the aim of the katana off course at the last second.
Instead of severing near the jugular, Snow's left katana would trace a thin line across Rylen's chest. What started as a deep cut into his left bicep sheared across his angled chest into a shallow scrape on his right as the katana slid off. And then Rylen was gone, gliding back several feet nearly as quickly as it had taken Snow to take that half-step forward. The powerful muscles in his legs proved quite adept at getting him urgently the hell out of dodge when needed. It was definitely needed this time.
An arc of crimson splattered onto the marbled floor in front of Snow, a testament to Rylen's mistake and the swordsman's triumph--for the time being. The crowd howled in a furor of eerie delight, pleased with the sight of Rylen's life blood staining the arena floor.
The half-wolf's sneakers came to a screeching halt that took him approximately seven feet away from the range of Snow's left katana. His right hand shot to the gash across his chest as he admired Snow's handiwork with a wince and a grunt. He pulled his hand away and gazed down just long enough to see the sizable pool of blood seeping out of the left side of his chest. Though it would be difficult to tell given the stark black coloration of his hooded sweatshirt, Snow might have noticed his cut appeared to have gone exceptionally deep given the volume of blood pouring out of the wound. He probably had an eye for such things, being a swordsman.
In reality, Rylen's body just produced a great deal of the red stuff. More gimmicky than anything else when it came to fights, but it had its uses outside of them. Perhaps it would give him a second or two of time as Snow felt enough damage had been done and he needn't pursue. Really Rylen did not need time so much as distance, and he made sure to get plenty of that.
Given both, he would do the following!
Take a deep breath, settle into a stance with his left foot forward, turn his crimson eyes on Snow's matching red eyes, and...
Grin.
"Nice strike..."
His left hand went to his right wrist, his arms crossed over his chest now as if he intended to hug himself to keep the blood in. But that would look quite stupid, and mark Rylen for a pansy. So, instead he grinned his savage grin of a warrior on a blood high and pulled his right sleeve back to the elbow.
This revealed two things: 1. He had no bracer on his right forearm, and 2. The fingers of his right hand splayed out in a wicked claw as the flame consuming his hand pulsed with a violent intensity, brighter and meaner than ever before.
"We're really giving them what they want now." Rylen observed, and for the first time in the fight he did not mind the din of the crowd. Though he did not particularly care for fulfilling the desires of a throng of spectators (save one), he felt they shared the same feeling now; excitement. Both he and the crowd were pleased with this match. They because he had taken a solid, bloody hit; he because he was getting exactly the kind of fight he wanted when he signed up for the tournament--a real challenge.
Unfortunately, he did not have it in mind to continue pleasing the crowd by spilling his own blood. No no, he was not down and out just yet.
And by the by, Rylen would finally take the time--if given any time--to notice the blue orbs floating lazily around Snow. This was not exactly evident on his face, however, as his crimson eyes burned straight at Snow, his brows slanted aggressively while his fanged mouth was split in that fiendish grin.
Then he selected the Wait command.
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:03 am
"!?"
What the -
Even the swordsman couldn't hide the look of surprise on his face when Rylen moved his body faster beyond expectations. Feeling the blade dig into soft resistance, the swordsman could tell from the touch that he struck into flesh - areas that lacked armor. But, having planned to put Rylen in a submission hold with his blade, the foe's action caused the blade to strike into unnecessary areas - widening the damage dealt. And as he finished his swing, Rylen is already seven feet away - give or take - a testament to the speed the foe had hidden as one of perhaps many hidden aces up his sleeve.
The howling from the crowd gave rise to some more hysterical cheering - incomprehensible words meshed into this chaotic sound of noise and interference.
But the swordsman isn't smiling. Seeing the foe move like that wasn't something to feel victorious about; in fact, it sent an unconscious chill up his spine as if he realized a dreadful fact. If the foe can move that fast at a moment's whim, then...
"..." His eyes gave a quick overview at Rylen's body to check the foe's condition. The splatter of blood on the ground gave a good idea on how deep Rylen's wound is. The grin on Rylen's face made it hard to tell what was going on in his mind...though, seeing how the foe was pulling the sleeves back from the flame, it is evident that the flames is going to play a more vital role when the two close in for the third offensive.
However, the biggest issue to tackle was Rylen's agile speed and mobility. If he can shift between distance whenever he wants to, then the swordsman can't afford to loosen up his defense. Giving Rylen an opening would be dangerous, if not fatal to the swordsman himself.
Which means, to counter the danger...
He has to stop Rylen's legs in some way, shape or form.
Not able to hear Rylen clearly from the cheers pouring down from above, the swordsman once again returned his pose to default, the blades placed in front of the swordsman in a slackened pose - arms loose. With a light swing from his arm, he flicked the blood off of his left blade, the few droplets of blood hitting the ground next to his left, keeping the blade mostly clean for maintenance when this fight is over.
The first impulsive act the swordsman wanted to do was to rapidly close the distance and finish his job. But, that is a suicidal run in itself, and the swordsman's own reckless nature was overturned by past experiences he'd gotten from doing a rush himself at close range fighters -
-- and paying the price for it.
He'll close the distance gradually instead. It'll give Rylen some time to catch his breath, though that may be short lived, given the swordsman's approaching figure. Right blade raised higher than the left, the swordsman held the blades slightly crossed in front of his view - the left blade held pointed at Rylen's left torso, while the right would be oriented at Rylen's right shoulder. He walked at a slow pace, biding some time to prepare himself against the potential onslaught of flames and speed, while also giving time for Rylen to bleed out more - prolonging his closure to see if he can whittle down the foe's energy and stamina from blood loss.
A third orb materialized, revolving with the other two orbs as it started to give off a low hum - resonating with the intensity of the swordsman's blade.
The Charge command is selected.
Orb - 3
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 8:40 am
While the crowd's excitement was fueled by the fighting on the floor, Isabella couldn't help but to feel nervous with Rylen in range of those oh so dangerous blades. Just imagining the damage they could cause, temporary or permanent, made her stomach twist. It was a retching feeling to sit there and watch Rylen throw himself in harms way, but all of the love that she had for him kept her there to support him. She needed to be there for him. So she would deal with the extreme discomfort and keep her eyes on him. The anxiety was nerve-wracking, it took all of her discipline to not just up and leave. And to think this was hard, it would be a real challenge to deal with what was soon to come.
The sudden eruption of energy from the crowd wasn't shared by Isabella. She practically jumped out of her seat, but not because she shared the excitement of those around her, but out of concern. She saw the blood on ground, she knew that Rylen had been cut by one of those swords. She wanted to yell out for the whole thing to stop, but she didn't. Not like her plea would have actually stopped the fight from proceeding on, but her voice would have just been drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. She eventually just sat back in her seat and as her teeth grind together she pulled at her clothes.
Isabella was able to relax a bit as Rylen managed to create a safe distance between the two of them, but she knew that it wouldn't last. And then Snow began to slowly approach him and Isabella's tension rose again. That walk, it was slow and ominous. She couldn't help but to notice the floating orbs, not sure what their effect was besides causing harm to her Rylen. She felt intimidated by it just watching from the stands. She silently prayed for Rylen to get out of this relatively unharmed. It would be great for him to pull ahead and win, but she was definitely more concerned about his safety.
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 9:45 am
Rylen's grin faded as Snow began to advance, and his expression became grave. If there had been any question about it before, there was not one now. Snow apparently hated to initiate an offensive, which Rylen found both intriguing and infuriating. True, in Gaia every fighter found it more beneficial to sit back and wait for an attack to come so it could be countered. Normally Rylen had no problem rushing in to let his opponents try, but he had never faced an opponent with not one, but two lengthy blades.
Which had made him think Snow would really try to dictate the course of the fight, but instead the swordsman seemed even more comfortable relying on a conservative style of combat. It was a smart way to fight, but given Snow's better armament, Rylen expected a more assertive approach. Hell, the half-wolf reckoned Snow could keep his opponent dancing with a flurry of calculated swings and thrusts from his twin blades if he wanted. So why did he play it so incredibly safe?
Then the name of his opponent struck, and an amusing thought crossed Rylen's mind. Was Snow so afraid of being burnt, literally and metaphorically?
I mean, Rylen's two Fire Starters did not really seem to ruffle the swordsman's feathers much from Rylen's perspective, but then the action in those times had always been fast and furious.
The flame in Rylen's right hand began to spit and crackle wildly, as the corner of Rylen's mouth curled up in a half-grin. While still about a step or two out of Snow's striking range, Rylen's right palm shot out to aim at Snow's body, and the flame engulfing his hand surged. Then if you blinked you would miss it, because Rylen's hand shifted slightly to the side.
A fury of fire and light heralded a barrage of Fire Starters screaming towards Snow at the same speed as before, and with as little distance as ever to cover. It was not as if the sound or sight of them gave too much advance warning, and given Rylen's initial point of aim it would more than likely force Snow's body to react on sheer instinct, particularly given his distaste for the flame.
But the first two would not go for Snow's body. They were aimed most precisely of all. The first careened towards one of Snow's little blue orbs, leading the target for an effective shot. The second more or less on the same course, albeit timed to try and strike the next orb in line in their rotation. It also followed the natural motion of Rylen's arm as it dipped back to the side on course with Snow's body.
The third Fire Starter would come in around Snow's right shoulder, the very next nearly dead center, and the fifth and final fireball flew for the left side of Snow's chest. Each came within a split second of the last, leaving little to no time for Snow to react to them individually. They all came right as Snow was making a step forward, giving him less chance to make a sudden lateral movement. The time elapsed between the first and the last could not have been much more than a second.
Each would hit with the force of a light punch as the flames burst outward on impact. Each would also bring those flames crashing against and spreading over the surface of that point of impact, still with enough heat to cause second degree burns on bare skin.
And at least one of them had to hit, or so Rylen hoped. Given the timing, the short distance, the velocity... Rylen had put as many variables as possible under his control. He made sure to put particular emphasis on aiming the first and second orbs, because the tiny orbs presented difficult targets. He only hoped his initial aim confused Snow's senses and put the swordsman's attention on protecting his own body.
Of course, it remained to be seen what his fireballs would even do to the orbs on contact, if they even did hit. He may have just thrown more fuel on the fire, or something to that effect. It would certainly be interesting to see the results.
With all of that accomplished--again in hardly any time at all--Rylen took a single rushed step forward, balancing on the balls of his feet with his tail rigidly swishing behind him. The step would still bring him just out of striking range, his left arm and left foot still forward. Stepping forward abruptly with the cover of his projectiles might have made the action appear more threatening in the moment, prompting a response. It was fortunate he had taken the time to cauterize the light wound to his leg earlier, because he needed every ounce of mobility he had now. The swordsman wisely recognized that fact.
But would the swordsman expect such an oppressive onslaught of multiple projectiles, when up until this point Rylen appeared at a loss when it came to ranged options, and his previous single fireballs had been so ineffectual?
Rylen was not an utter fool, and he had been subtly trying to influence Snow's line of thinking the entire time to throw him off guard for when such a salvo of flames was unleashed.
[ Ignition Lv. 4 ] ((forgot to add this last time, sorry! But it caps at 5, didn't go to 6)) sweatdrop
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 5:42 pm
...Not that the thought of going on an offensive didn't cross the swordsman's mind, but he's more than aware of the hot, scorching flame burning around Rylen's right hand. A fire that close to the foe was like a danger zone that the swordsman didn't want to tread - mainly because he didn't have anything to douse or neutralize the threat beforehand. One mistake, and the swordsman's most likely going to get a fist full of flames blasted all over his body.
If Rylen's method of using fire is similar to all of the others he'd fought before.
And besides, fire just isn't his thing. Getting burned isn't something one can forget easily, no matter how much time has passed - the searing of flesh, the burning of nerves and unimaginable pain that comes with it when afflicted with the heat...
Fire is, practically, one of the top ten worst wounds to receive in his opinion.
To further complicate the issue - as if he didn't have enough worries about being roasted at close range - the new discovery of Rylen's speed only added more frustration in tackling down this foe - requiring the swordsman to make sure he has all the essentials ready before taking on this issue head-on.
The charged orbs are his answer against Rylen's fiery arsenal. Having not yet revealed the nature of his abilities, the swordsman used the time walking towards Rylen to plan his next set of potential moves, his firm gaze taking in every detail he possibly can from the foe; Every gesture, jolt, twitch of the body, shifting of the foot, expressions on the face, shifting of weight...
For it is that crucial body language that can give the swordsman that critical moment to react to a potential life or death situation.
The gaze wavered over Rylen's fire. It's pretty certain that the foe is most likely going to use it in this next encounter...though, the question is when Rylen's going to use it.
And, walking ever so closer...
The swordsman closed in to Rylen's waiting inferno.
He didn't need to wait long for the action to start. In one quick motion, Rylen raised his palm towards the swordsman's body, quickly prompting the swordsman to react fast - or be burned in the process. Being caught in a moment where he would be stepping forward with his left leg, the swordsman twisted his body to the right, shifting himself into a left side stance as fast as he possibly could. The left arm would be raised up in a simultaneous gesture defensively, held diagonally bent near his gaze, using the long billowing sleeves of the longcoat as a method to protect his vital points such as his neck and face; areas that are susceptible to burns and injury from the fire. The left blade would be pointing up towards the swordsman's respective right during the protection, as if held in a readied fashion for a diagonally downward slash for use swiftly after.
The right blade would lower in elevation to be at level near his right torso during the shift in stance, its tip oriented towards Rylen's general position.
Presenting himself to Rylen in a narrowed profile and with mostly his left flank in the line of fire allowed the swordsman to make himself a smaller target for the flames - reducing the amount of initial damage that can be dealt to him. But, not expecting Rylen to go for his orbs...
An interesting phenomenon appeared. Upon contact with the hot flames, the orb immediately expelled a cloud of steam that blanketed a good portion of the area near the swordsman's presence, effectively nullifying the first fireball - and itself in the process. Under the dense moisture of steam that is unleashed from the first orb, the second fireball would be quickly anhihilated before it could even impact the second orb - the steam rapidly transferring the heat from the flames into the air harmlessly, killing its destructive power and strength.
Strangely enough, the steam seemed to maintain a certain distance away from the swordsman's body - his cold longcoat and cold gears showing no visible signs of wetness that had resulted from the explosive blast.
This, to Rylen, should reveal one critical factor of the swordsman's abilities;
He can manipulate water.
The third fireball that went for the swordsman's shoulder missed its mark by a few millimeters when he narrowed his profile, although for the last two...
In two rapid successions, the swordsman felt a firm impact on his sleeves - a burst of flames showering out like napalm as it coated the swordsman's left arm sleeve with its fiery content. A bit of it even got onto the swordsman's lower torso, the flames flickering and attaching itself to the longcoat - like a damn pest, refusing to let go.
Despite that his longcoat was made to withstand fire to some extent, the swordsman could actually feel the heat being transferred down from the clothing, rapidly warming up his arm from a hot caress to a painful, searing touch.
"Urk!"
Immediately, steam would blast out of the swordsman's left arm as if it was conjured, the flames quickly dying out and its burning heat being dissippated into the air. With an angered look on his face, looks like Rylen's guess was probably right.
The swordsman really hates being burned.
In one swift move after extinguishing Rylen's fireballs, the swordsman brought his left blade down towards the foe's right clavicle bone - his blade too far to even land a hit on the area. But as he swung, one of the orbs vanished near his presence, foretelling an ability being used as the swordsman aimed for the spot - playing on Rylen's assumption of the swordsman's striking range.
Rylen will most likely be surprised when the blade closes in - a most peculiar thing being added onto the weapon unbeknownst to the foe.
Ice. Sharp, semi-transparent ice that grew off the blade during mid-swing, increasing its striking range by some feet or so. Using the orb to reinforce its density, the ice is enough to cut through cloth and into soft flesh like a normal weapon - mimicking the qualities of his katana rather well.
If Rylen thinks he got the range of the swordsman's blade down...he's going to be in quite a surprise when the blow closes in.
Orb - 1
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Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 6:48 pm
Rylen would have been very surprised at the sudden increase in range from Snow's katana. He would have even commended Snow on his tactics, at least internally. It seemed the two fighters had a similar strategy, lulling each other into a false sense of security regarding their true effective ranges. Snow with his true striking range, Rylen with his sudden salvo of fireballs.
But the key word was would. He would have been surprised, if he had any time to really notice it. He barely even had more than a split second to recognize the effect his fireball had on Snow's orb. The sudden expansion of steam was curious, but not enough to hold his attention when he still had two finely sharpened blades to worry about. So long as the resulting explosion caused him no harm or hindrance, Rylen merely took a quick note of the fact that he had been able to destroy one of the orbs. That was all the information he needed about it at that moment.
His true reaction was triggered the moment Snow brought the sleeve of his left arm to cover his throat and the lower half of his face. Even with his left katana still facing out to strike, Rylen saw his chance, his eyes glinting as if capturing a distant flash of lightning. His movement occurred almost in tandem with Snow's swing. He had been so focused on his next move, he did not even know Snow had attacked until the blade of Snow's katana--or, rather, the ice--practically cut a chunk off his shoulder. More on that later, because Rylen already set himself up for his attack in one swift movement.
He twisted his hips and took a lunging step forward with his right foot so that it would roughly land parallel with and to the right of Snow's forward foot. He brought his left forearm up with the bracer facing out and his elbow tucked in close to his body in a guard meant to block Snow's right katana from making an immediate counter in the single second Rylen needed to initiate his attack. The steam that hissed out from Snow's arm had obscured the motion of Snow's left arm to Rylen, but the reverse could also have been true. Rylen's sudden step forward was probably at least partially obscured by the steam since Snow's forearm was around mouth level.
And even if it wasn't, his own action would come at the time Snow was in attack mode, his arm in the midst of its swing. Rylen's step is what brought the blade off course with his clavicle, along with the motion of his body and right arm--his body sinking low, and his right arm thrusting forward.
"RRRAAAGH!!" Rylen shouted in a sharp, guttural exhale that peeled through the din of the crowds, the roar of his flame, the hiss of Snow's steam. It was full of fury and pain, a warrior's whoop of both triumph and anguish.
He landed in his lunging step by sinking low in a widened stance--somewhat like a horse stance--bending his knees as his right palm shot out for Snow's exposed gut. The flame in his right hand flashed brightly right before impact, set to deliver an explosive force of furious flames upon direct impact.
Quote: [ Piston Drive ] - Rylen rolls up his right sleeve and gathers all his magical energy in his right hand in preparation for this attack. Rylen then delivers a flaming palm strike with his right hand and releases all of that energy with precise timing in an explosive attack of devastating power. Piston Drive delivers enough force to rupture the skin and to potentially break bones at the point of impact, as well as causing intense third degree burns over an area about 8 inches in diameter. The blast of volatile fire is focused outward from the palm, which gives it a penetrating force that can cause the flames to wrap around the body or even blast through certain parts of the body. The explosive power imbued in the strike can even crush hardened defenses like armor at the point of impact. Receiving the blow is akin to having a grenade at considerably reduced power shoved directly at your body when it explodes (this is assuming a realistic fragmentation grenade explosion, not the movie affairs that somehow take out whole building floors; and, again, it is considerably reduced). Because Rylen has to time the explosive burst, if he misses he can waste his charge by firing the energy off at thin air. Upon releasing after he fails to hit anything the bright flames will radiate out from his palm up to five feet in every direction. It is named for the fact that Rylen drives his palm forward and, upon contact, his arm is fired back violently from the recoil like a piston. Rylen suffers recoil damage from the shock rippling through his arm, but only if the attack hits solidly. The flames are also difficult for him to control at such an intensity, and he will suffer some second degree burns on his arm. One direct hit will cause severe pain to his arm, such that it becomes difficult for him to use it and his range of motion is limited by about half. A second direct hit will break his arm, rendering it effectively useless and leaving him unable to use Piston Drive any more. Requires Ignition Lv. 5. Consumes all charges and causes Rylen to lose the effects of Ignition. If Rylen finally succeeded what he had been planning to do all match, his palm would rocket into Snow's gut, discharging a woefully powerful force that would propel it back just as hard--for every action, and all. The flames would even snap back along his arm, littering his own arm with intense second degree burns, black and bloody and a horrific sight to look at.
He had spent a small eternity trying to line up all the variables in his favor, and now he acted swiftly and decisively when he felt he had a great majority of them in his favor. Snow had settled himself into a stance to defend himself, probably tensing his body in an involuntary anticipation to the flames. He was in the middle of his own attack, which was serendipitously knocked off course with its intended target. Rylen's quick lunging step did the rest, his powerful legs once again giving him an almost supernatural boost. The steam might have even helped obscure his movements. And due to the nature of his attack, his palm needed to only graze its target to unleash its truly devastating potential on the hapless swordsman. Finally, his forearm guard, low stance, and the slant of his body protected his vitals from retaliation by Snow's right blade--if Snow even had the presence of mind to intercept his sudden lunge.
Oh, and Snow's attack was by no means ineffective. Since he had first developed the dangerous Piston Drive technique, Rylen knew he would be basically sacrificing the mobility of his right arm from the backlash each time he used it. Snow's cut did the rest, shaving off a chunk of the half-wolf's flesh from the shoulder down the side of his upper arm, overloading his nerves with pain. No doubt about it, the arm was going to be in terrible shape if his attack landed. Hell, it would not even be in such great shape if his Piston Drive did not make a solid impact. Thankfully the cut took mostly skin off the bone and only a little muscle with it.
But if Snow hated being burned, Rylen hated being cut that much more. The stinging pain around his upper arm and shoulder alone would prove quite debilitating, limiting the range of motion of his arm in a crucial way.
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 10:12 am
If the swordsman had the time to actually look at Rylen's work, he would have applauded the foe for his attempt to deliver a critical blow under such close conditions. But - his life is currently on the line, so he'll leave that acknowledgement later when the fight's over.
Suffice to say, Rylen had the timing pretty well down as the swordsman delivered his swing - the foe using those abnormal muscles on the legs to perform a quick step in to get beneath the blade's range, and putting it in a bad position to be wielded effectively for use. Like a sitting duck, it seems as if the swordsman is unable to do anything to stop the flames from burning a hole into his gut - an ironic end fitting of his name.
However - Rylen won't get a freebie on this one. No...there's more things he has to learn when facing off against the swordsman; certain skills and acts that could thwart and nullify the efforts Rylen has placed into this one, violent attack. To reveal that point, when Rylen rocketed his right palm towards the swordsman's gut, the swordsman's left arm didn't stop moving. Even in the swing, the left arm is brought down as a means to protect and cover his narrowed profile - its intentions initially meant for the fireballs that Rylen spawned.
But the act also served another purpose.
In one fluid motion, Rylen's attempted attack would be struck from above as the left pommel of the swordsman's left blade and arm impacted near the foe's right arm/elbow joint area during his swing, causing the flaming palm to be batted off course - throwing the aim off just enough to barely graze past the swordsman's left torso as it went off with its...its...
Explosion of volatile flames.
"AGH!"
There simply wasn't enough time for the swordsman to have his right blade react in motion for a follow up, as a result to Rylen's speed. Caught in an explosive inferno of highly intense flames, his left torso flared up like a lit christmas tree, an unimaginable amount of concentrated heat trying to dig its way into the swordsman's semi flame-resistant cloth, trying to burrow itself further into the hapless swordsman to maximize the damage placed there. The swordsman couldn't use words to describe the sensation - feeling areas of his body suffer under the onslaught. Having felt something snap inside him, he could already tell that the impact broke one or two ribs near the left torso, the hexagonal pieces of armor interwoven loosely in a honeycomb-like fitting inside the longcoat having buffered some of the force from Rylen's vicious attack.
The injury is concerning - pain ravishing its way up and down the swordsman's left torso, causing the swordsman to grit his teeth in pain. But the swordsman isn't planning on letting Rylen get away without a price while he was still close for retaliation.
Using the last orb he had charged up, the swordsman would detonate it near that concentrated heat, causing an explosion of steam that would engulf over the affected area before moving away from the swordsman a split second after.
It was a method the swordsman developed as a counter against fire users when they unleash flames up close and personal. By using the rapid conversion of water into steam when it comes in contact with high heat, the swordsman can use the properties of that conversion to absorb heat rapidly from the afflicted area and dissipate that heat away into the environment - killing the fire's intensity and its ability to burn with vicious efficiency on his longcoat.
As a side effect, the steam becomes dangerously hot, able to inflict bad scalding and burning at anything it touches - primarily exposed skin or flesh. While there are other methods to put fire out on the swordsman himself...Rylen was close enough for the swordsman to return the favor of being burned.
Having expanded tremendously in volume due to its initial condensed water state as an orb, the swordsman manipulated the steam as a whole under his influence, expelling it away from himself after its conversion to prevent scalding and burning on his own body. With Rylen so close to the swordsman's position, the super hot steam will most likely wash over Rylen's body like a dense fog - scalding and burning anything it comes in contact with.
The deep injury near the left bicep to chest.
Exposed areas like the face and hands.
The horribly mauled right arm that was the result of the foe's dangerous attack.
And in the meantime, the swordsman would push off with his left foot by then, away from Rylen, using that thick cover of steam to mask his temporary withdrawal as he put some safe distance between the two of them. His right blade would be held at the ready to thwart a potential pursuit from Rylen while he stumbled back, breathing with a ragged, painful breath in alarm.
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Posted: Wed Jun 16, 2010 12:14 pm
Fire exploded out of Rylen's palm like dynamite (figuratively), sending his arm whipping back from the recoil like a the muzzle of an artillery cannon. Rylen had to time the release of his destructive energy for the very moment he felt any kind of tactile sensation at the end of his palm, so he did even though he had not gotten the solid hit he wanted. In that moment, he could not even tell the difference. Pain shot through his arm like lightning. It even left him to vaguely wonder in the back of his mind if his whole arm had been jettisoned off his body this time both due to Snow's cut and the self-destructive nature of his own attack. But he did not have the luxury to debate it with himself.
With his arm snapping back came a roll of a malicious steam washing over him like a tidal wave. It was kind of funny how Snow could use his own ability to turn Rylen's fire against him. The burns on his own right arm proved Rylen was by no means immune to the fire beyond just his hand, and steam would be no less effective.
The hiss of steam drowned out his own rattling growl of pain. Fortunately, the sight of it and the natural twist of his body gave Rylen just enough time to shut his eyes and turn his face away. He felt relatively safe in doing so because if Snow held his ground and resisted the force of Rylen's Piston Drive, the swordsman would be that much more damaged by it, even in a grazing blow.
The steam first swallowed Rylen's right arm in its voracious maw of heat, turning the flesh from his fingertips to midway up his exposed forearm a bright, bloody red. It brought a new level of pain to his already injured arm that Rylen had rarely ever experienced in his life--the kind of pain that would make you want to swear off fighting forever, regardless of how much the beast in you loved it.
The steam further invaded the wound at Rylen's chest, and it felt as if his blood had instantly reached its boiling point. No, it felt as if the steam was an demonic entity on its own, digging its claws into either side of the fresh cut and yanking it open wide. Rylen wanted to scream, but the steam would not even allow that. It filled his lungs, turning any attempt at a scream into a series of sputtering, violent coughs. It sounded as if Rylen's body wanted to just go ahead and hack up his lungs, saving him the trouble of dealing with trying to breathe through the agony of it all.
Snow would be allowed ample time to put distance between them, because Rylen tensed his body away from the steam. He took a dazed step back, and then another, his mind the whole time far too busy still trying to get him to scream to spare a single thought to Snow's position, or direction, or anything at all.
So he just stood there, and for a second or two it would probably leave Snow to wonder just what the hell happened behind the thick cloud of dissipating, steamy fog. But steam did not linger in one place for long, so it quickly vanished into the air as the outline of Rylen's body became increasingly visible.
There Rylen stood in some semblance of a fighting stance, his head dipped low with his bangs obscuring his eyes from Snow's perspective. He held his blood red right arm in front of his chest as it throbbed and twitched painfully. Smoky trails of steam wafted off his form like the aftermath of gunfire, forming a mocking silhouette of his body in the air above him.
He lifted his head slowly to look up at Snow, revealing the right side of his face to be reddened and his right eye to be bloodshot.
And he had the same grin as before.
"Finally got you," He muttered in a hoarse voice, which would oddly be perfectly audible. The crowd had fallen completely silent when Rylen went in for his strike, releasing a unanimous gasp before holding their breaths in unison.
"And you got me." He said before he croaked out a light chuckle. His throat felt like it was on fire, his right arm felt like it was continuously passing through a bonfire, and his chest felt like he was in the midst of open heart surgery. Every bit of Rylen's body appealed to his better judgement, entreating him to stop and give up the fight just so he could get some immediate medical attention.
But the half-wolf was having none of it. Though his legs quaked, threatening to collapse, and his body barely restrained small fits of convulsion, Rylen stood strong. He looked Snow dead in the eyes, and by the bold expression on his face you would think their situations were reversed. Whatever it all meant, one thing was certain: Rylen clearly had no intention of calling it quits yet.
But one thing puzzled the half-wolf, and given the time he would look carefully at Snow's swords--particularly the one in his left hand. He was certain he had felt the bite of some kind of blade near his shoulder as he went in for his step. Something about the timing of it seemed off, because Rylen knew he was out of range of the blades from his position before the step. Snow could have attacked during his lunge, but then the angle of the cut would have been all different. It was becoming clearer and clearer that the swordsman had plenty off tricks up his sleeves, as if his dual katana style alone was not troublesome enough. If the fight continued, Rylen was curious to know more about the technique before he plunged himself into another attack.
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