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 Posted: Tue Jun 29, 2010 5:19 pm
 VS.
To debut the opening of the new Beach Selena, which sits on the western coast of the GTB plot of land, Midus has decided to host the second round of the tournament in this lovely place. The sun is shining brightly as the warm breeze blows gentle waves along the clear crystal waters. Boats, surfers, and ski boats trail the waters as a large crowd of spectators gather around a single large wooden platform situated out in the middle of the water. This platform will serve as the fighting ground for both fighters as they are transported out here, either via boat or by their own creative method. The platform itself is made of wood, but contains a solid slab of stone underneath it that is four feet tall meant to keep the platform from being destroyed. Though you may think you can destroy rock with your attacks, this stone is extra tough, meaning knocking chunks out of it will be your only capability, so don't expect to punch any holes through it. Field Measurements: The platform is a square shape, with the distance measured from one side to the other merely 15 yards, which equates to 45 feet. You won't be able to run around this thing as freely as the last arena. The platform is raised a foot above water, so if you fall off, you can still simply climb back on. The platform is rooted underneath with a four pillars of the same stone at each corner, so it will always remain stationary. The pillars are ten feet long each (and quite wide), touching the sandy floor underneath. Ten Count Boundary: Falling into the water begins the ten count. If the other fighter goes into the water, too, or makes contact with the fighter in count-out in any way, the count resets. This does not apply if both fighters are in the water. Only when a fighter has both feet on the platform does the count stop for them. The flying rule remains in effect. Other Penalties: Do not attack spectators or attempt to destroy the platform's rooting underwater. Doing so will result in a DQ. Fight Ends: On July 9th, at 9 PM Central.
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Posted: Tue Jun 29, 2010 9:20 pm
Well, getting there was a simple matter, since she didn't have the ability to run across water; take the earliest boat. Whatever was the standard transport for other fighters was fine as far as she was concerned, she wasn't an overly particular person and her temper had mellowed a bit in the past few years, just a bit. The whole concept was a bit unnerving to her, as she had assumed that the big stadium was where all of the fights would be held. Yet, it made sense, didn't it bring out the best in each fighter to test their mettle by throwing them into differing circumstances? She finished off her bottle of spring water and handed it to a staff member on the boat. No matter what anyone thought, littering wasn't cool in a serene setting such as this. If it was the stadium, she wouldn't have cared.
As she walked onto her end of the platform, one would have thought she'd be hot wearing all that gear in balmy weather that would have better suited swim wear. Wearing a fairly heavy trench coat and steel toes in this kind of weather was anything but comfortable, but she had been wearing these things since her early mercenary days, in hotter places than this. Adaire had learned to live with very high levels of discomfort, a day in a nice hotel room wasn't about to make her go soft. Right now, she was really glad her clothing wasn't black, heat absorption would really suck, so would dehydration.
Adaire stood, allowing the warm breeze to wash over her face. It was a bit slick, as she had applied a decent helping of strong, water resistant, sunscreen to all exposed skin, especially the face. She wasn't a vampire, but the general lack of skin pigmentation that gave her such a pale complexion and deep red eyes also meant she could burn like yesterday's meatloaf if she wasn't careful. When it came to keeping skin healthy, one should never be caught unprepared.
As the announcer made her presence known, she knew her opponent would be making his way onto the platform shortly. This time, she had a slight idea of what she was up against. The thought of it didn't help her confidence levels at all. Her only real advantage in her mind; she hadn't shown much of what she could do in the last fight. There was still some mystery about her.
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 6:12 am
Drejak stood on the shoreline, just ahead of the masses of cheering fans. He had tried to make the first boat, but had missed it by a few minutes time. So, with staff in hand, he sat on the dock, waiting for the boat to return from delivering his opponent. He hoped the judges wouldn’t take points from him for not being there on the earliest boat.
The sun as beating down hard, today, and the shimmering water stretched out before him was quite pristine and beautiful. He almost smiled as he thought about it. Hadn’t it just recently been that he was thinking of how horribly these humans had marred the world? It was amazing to him to see waters as clean as those of his homeland amidst all the pollution and destruction of the environment. His eyes traveled across the surface of the water and followed its rippled surface farther and farther out, carrying his thoughts with the gentle waves.
The water… The sun on his back… It was really funny, how so many things can remind you of the one you love. He thought of Shadow, and the couple of years they’d spent together. He thought of their adventures and how they had fought side-by-side for everything they had obtained. Which, by looking at either of them, wouldn’t have been much in the way of worldly possessions, but that was of no concern to him. He had all he needed in the world, because he had her. Even if he couldn’t find her in the crowd as he glanced back over his shoulder, he knew she would be here to watch and cheer him on.
They had arrived in a Gaian port only a few months before the Gaian Tenkaiichi Budoukai IV began, and apparently they had been followed from their homeland of Dolva, where their names and appearances were both infamous and famous. Drejak and Shadow were known well by the underground factions, the civilians, and the law. They had come to this land quite by mistake because they climbed aboard the wrong boat in a moment of panic as they attempted to flee a particular group they had dealt a heavy blow to with their services and skills.
Someone from that group had followed them, and attacked them with a group of hired thugs. Drejak and Shadow had been trapped inside a burning and collapsing building, and in order to save Drejak’s life, Shadow had put herself at great risk. That’s why Shadow was watching and cheering for him; rather than competing. She had been injured in the fire, in ways beyond the reaches of healers.
They had escaped the thugs and the dredges of their old lives. Perhaps by competing in this tournament, Drejak could earn them a bit of money and they could make a bit of a name for themselves, without having to kill someone, this time.
VVVVVVRRRRR…
The sound of the boat’s engine drawing closer pulled Drejak from his thoughts and he stood up from his seat at the end of the pier. When the small vessel pulled up, he warily boarded it, realizing for the first time exactly how difficult this fight might be for him. It wasn’t the water that bothered him, or even his opponent, who he hadn’t watched fight and hadn’t tried to research. It was the fact that for the first time since he was a pup, he would be completely separated from the soil of the earth. He closed his eyes, and tried to relax the wrenching feeling in his stomach. On this boat, he felt incomplete. His right-handed grip on his staff tightened. It was the only piece of the earth he could cling to for this bout, unless he could get to the stone beneath the wooden arena floor. Even then, it would take him a bit more effort to work with that than it would if it were soil.
… VVVRRRRrrrrrr… chugchugchugchug…
The boat slowed to an idle drift as it reached the platform, and the seasoned captain pulled him right up to his side of the platform. Drejak cast a longing glance back at the shore, and the undetermined location of his mate, then faced the arena, and his waiting, pale-skinned, female opponent.
He climbed out of the boat and planted his feet on the floor. His staff’s end let out a resonating “thnk” as it followed suit, held vertically and still only by his right hand. Drejak’s eyes traveled around the square platform, and he nodded as he estimated the measurements of its dimensions. The size looked promising.
He couldn’t judge his opponent, and wouldn’t try to, until they began to fight. He nodded to her respectfully and took a few steps towards the center of the platform, but only enough to put about six or seven feet between himself and the platform’s edge. His 6’4” height shrunk a couple of inches as he slid his right foot back, and turned his left shoulder forward. His staff leveled at just above waist height, and his left hand took hold of the shaft about two feet ahead of his right hand, effectively sectioning the five pound stone staff into thirds. Two feet forward, two centered, and two feet rearward.
He was a bit tensed as the unease of being so far from his element unsettled him, but he was ready. He had to face whatever challenges were thrown at him. It was for the thrill of battle, for the hope of a new life, but mostly, it was for Shadow.
I won’t let you down.
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 6:17 pm
It was nice that a little bit of distance made a big object look smaller, but as the staff of her opponent let out a resonating "thnk" on the wooden platform she realized a light weight had been pitted against a heavy weight. Not only a heavy weight, an anthro-heavyweight. Her first instinct was to paw for the revolver given to her by C and consider the best type of cartridge to use in this type of environment. But guess what, her revolver was locked up in a safe deposit box somewhere, as firearms were not allowed in this tournament. The only thing she had of it was an original bullet, which she was wearing around her neck as an ornament. You see, Adaire's revolver was her mental stability, she could absolutely not be completely separated from it, but as the the bullet was one of the originals found in the revolver when she first received it, it sufficed completely to keep Adaire herself. Now, her second thought was, WTF are these judges thinking!!
If she was here for the gold, this would be a hand raise, a white flag, she'd forfeit right now and walk out without a scratch, leaving the beast man a certain winner by forfeit.
She wasn't here for the money, she was here for something bigger.
There was a hard luck story here, just about every fighter in this tournament had one. Things were running through her mind, her life was flashing before her eyes.
Her young life. Try spending your youth in a torture chamber as your captors executed your family in the most horrible ways possible for the sole purpose of increasing your misery index. Try being experimented on and infused with poisoned genomes simply because your physiology was durable enough to handle it. Try having your brain dissected into sections so it could hold multiple consciousness. Try being put in suspended animation for five hundred years and being conscious the entire time, utterly alone. Try breaking out of that chamber at the time it was prearranged to happen, unclothed and on your own. Try all this before reaching the age ten. Try having this in your memory banks every day and yet somehow manage to keep from going insane. That was Adaire's story.
But it wasn't the reason she fought, she fought to uphold everything that anyone and everyone who had ever been kind to her. For C, who had picked her out of the trash and given her a weapon, an education, and for a time no matter how short, was a second father to her. For the honorable men and women of the Gain Mercenary League, who she had grown and trained with. For Evan White, who had given her more than just employment, but a pride in herself that reinforced her flagging morale through tough times. This was for everyone who had helped her, to prove that she had grown, even if just a little. No matter who the opponent, she was going to fight with everything she had! No more hiding! No More Security Blankets!!!
Except maybe the trench coat, that was a good kind of security blanket, at least for now.
Now that she had relived her life so vividly, she nodded back to her opponent respectfully. Then she stared into her opponents eyes, then surveyed his stance. As he was apparently setting into a stance and not rushing her, she could take a moment to consider things. It looked to be a stance for techniques using a longer range melee weapon, like staffs, naginatas, pole-arms, etc. She supposed he expected her to rush wildly into battle like some mad fool, well she wasn't in the mood for that. Not today.
No, today it was time to bring out her secret weapon. It was something she had been considering after her talk with Cyril at the ball, and now, she had enough nerve to use it. Yes, an awful and deadly piece of equipment that she had smuggled into this ring, without the permission of judges. Something so heinous in its awe inspiring protective capacity as to inspire fear in the most seasoned of opponents. What was this piece of contraband, this weapon of death and destruction?
She reached into her coat with a deft movement of her hand, reached somewhere in front of her waist, and pulled out......
.......
.......
This.....
They fit perfectly on her head, flopping over her matching her red hair and coat as they shaded her eyes a bit. She had actually bought them at a stand on the way to the port and thought it would be fun to wear them for her battle for some reason. They were perfectly ordinary fuzzy red ears. Why, because in order to fight in anthro, you had to be the anthro... or some other new age garbage she heard. She was the bunneh!!
"Okay Mr. Drejak," Red said, walking along a few feet from the edge of the water while keeping her eyes shifted toward her opponent for the first sign of movement. "I'm the hare and you're the wolf, so why don't you come and get me?"
She smiled sweetly, walking calmly for now.
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Posted: Wed Jun 30, 2010 8:47 pm
Shadow stood with both paws in the water, about thigh-high as she watched Drejak. Her heart began to race with excitement as his boat made its way to his fighting area.
She could see he couldn't find her due to all of the other people gathering around. With a grin Shadow thought of a way to get his attention.
She quickly disappeared into the crowd and within a few minutes emerged holding the arm of a short human male. Whispering in his ear the man nodded his head and held out his hand as Shadow dropped some coins in it with a triumphant grin.
The man scurried off and returned in the water from a distance in a small row boat. The man came as far to the shore as the boat would allow and Shadow carefully got in, taking care to not put pressure on her injured arm.
Her amber eyes locked on her mate as the man rowed them closer to the platform, but not so close that they would interfere at all.
Shadow purred loudly and called out to him, "Do your best Warrior!"
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 6:13 am
Drejak tensed for a moment as his opponent reached into her coat to retrieve what he assumed would be her weapon. He was bracing himself and readying his body to dodge or defend in case it was something that could strike at range. Which, he thought, may or may not have been a good idea on this small platform. It would have given her effective zoning capability with him in a fairly confined space, but at the same time being in such close quarters it can be very difficult to keep pace with a mellee fighter.
Instead of the challenge of a ranged weapon, or some sort of spellbook or mystical item, Drejak watched her draw out that pair of red ears and place them atop her head. The expression that spread across his face was not a happy one. She didn't make him want to laugh or smile. It almost felt as though she were mocking his heritage.
And then she spoke. She knew his name. She challenged him, and then had the gall to smile at him. At least she had courage. Drejak could guess that she was a bit lighter than he was, and a little shorter, too, but nothing could be certain until he could see the woman beneath the coat. Trench coats were funny like that. They could hide so much so easily.
When she had looked into his eyes, Drejak had been staring back with a quelled sense of tenacity. He had managed to keep a level head through his first round, and intended to do so this time, as well. Drejak's thoughts raced around moments from his fight with the swordsman, Sephiroth, and fights from years and years of military and mercenary service. He was prepared for this fight, and started to take a step forward, when an all-too-familiar voice rang in his ears, which swiveled atop his head towards the source.
Let's see her bunny-ear headband pull that off.
Drejak turned to look into the water for a moment, and found his mate there, on a boat, with some stranger paddling and keeping them in place. Drejak's tail wagged a little as he realized she'd made the effort to be here to watch this fight from a better perspective than the last match, and her presence would push him to fight even harder, now.
For the apparently human woman in front of him, it was already over in Drejak's mind. He would win this fight. She would not defeat him.
Drejak's eyes cut back towards his opponent, and then the rest of his head followed suit. His grip tightened on his staff, but his left hand inverted its hold, so that it was spaced the same distance from his other hand, but the thumbs were facing each other.
Shadow might recognize what he was doing. Drejak had done something similar when they had first met, and oddly enough, tried to kill each other.
"It's too bad those ears won't give you the racial traits. If they did, you might be able to outrun me," he said with a confident growl added to the end of the statement. Drejak wasn't angry or arrogant, but every warrior talks a little smack now and again.
Drejak's brow furrowed and he lowered his head and left shoulder slightly as he broke into a charge directly towards his opponent. The staff was held to his right side, that hadn't changed, but it would seem as though the predator was readying himself to shoulder-check his opponent. Though he was running, he wasn't moving in a sprint or at full speed. He could top out around 35mph, but he was closer to 20 during this charge, so he would close the distance between them very rapidly.
Should he reach striking range of his opponent(which would be about four and a half feet away with this intended strike), Drejak's feet would set against the woden surface, and his arms would swing forward as he halted. The attack would come in two stages. The initial was a somewhat direct and vertically rising thrust of the staff's leading end. The stone weapon was aimed to slam into his opponent's chest.
The follow-up was flexible, and would come as a follow-through of the thrust should it miss or be avoided, and if a counterattack came instead of an evasion, Drejak could change the function of the follow-through strike to a defensive maneuver. It would all depend on how his opponent reacted.
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 9:05 am
Shadow smiled as she watched her mate take grip of his staff as a chill went through her body. Though their first encounter ended in a stalemate, he was still the toughest opponent she had ever faced.
She stood up carefully with her eyes now locked on his opponent's head.
Fake...ears...
Shadows ears twitched as her tail stayed nearly fully still save from the twitching tip. Shadow growled quietly and forced herself to sit back down.
This isn't my fight. Drejak will take care of it.
With a heavy sigh she returned her gaze back to her mate as he stood tall and strong. Her heart swelled with pride and hope.
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Posted: Thu Jul 01, 2010 10:47 pm
Drejak gave her such a look that made it all too clear he wasn’t pleased with the accessory. Maybe if he knew more of human customs he’d understand that this sort of costume play reflected humanity’s desire to emulate the natural world, as well as a desire for something beyond ones own abilities. People also thought anthro-morphs were pretty, in many cases anyway. Too bad this wasn’t the time or place to explain that sort of thing, and she sort of expected this gut reaction from him anyway. It seemed to be evoking the response she wanted.
Drejak turned to gaze at his biggest fan for a moment, and Adaire stopped walking, as she knew she was positioned two feet from the water directly behind her, yet seven and a half feet from the water on either side of her. This placed her opponent almost directly in front of her and about thirty eight feet away.
As he hinted at speed with his words, she stood on the balls of her feet, knees relaxed and slightly bent so she could shift in any direction. She raised two weapons of her choice, at least for now, to chest level. They were her fists. The posture of her torso was ever so slightly forward from center. These fists Adaire made weren’t tight, the fingers curled loosely and simply, touching the skin of her palm.
Red suspected he’d be fast. Then he charged, proving the point all too well. Perhaps he was really angry after all, or perhaps his girlfriend made him a bit too enthusiastic. Drejak was going awfully fast for such a small bit of space. Adaire quickly side stepped a few feet to the left to make sure his path was clear. Being a marathon runner and a sprinter herself, she would have been impressed beyond words with his ability if she had time to think of anything besides sidestepping and positioning herself to take advantage of what was to come.Evil Little Flayer Though he was running, he wasn't moving in a sprint or at full speed. He could top out around 35mph, but he was closer to 20 during this charge, so he would close the distance between them very rapidly.
Yet, this wasn’t the half a football field diameter fighting surface at the stadium. This was a chunk of wood no wider than what it would be from the goal to the 15 yard line, squared and surrounded by water. Running was good, but this was no marathon, this was a fighting competition, and this was the wrong place for a super sprint.
Temper must have been clouding his judgment, because at that rate it would take him a mere second to reach his desired position. In that short time, he had to accelerate, reach full speed for some amount of time, and then decelerate to a complete stop at his desired location. Now, unless Drejak had managed the power of instant acceleration, making physics cry, achieving this was highly unlikely to be successfully achieved. Twenty miles an hour achieved in one step would be near impossible feat in its own right. But attempting to bring such speed to a dead stop in one step or less only invited disaster.
The most likely outcomes were. If Drejak could get an easy foot hold, he would set his feet against the wooden surface to brake, his arms would swing forward, and the unchecked momentum of his upper body would cause him to do a nasty face plant against said wooden floor. Seeing as he had a muzzle of sorts, it might actually lead to a broken jaw if he wasn't careful. Or, lets say this floor is smooth and pretty polished; Drejak might finding himself putting on the brakes only to slide perilously close to the ocean. And of course, while he was getting his bearings and attempting to stay in bounds, Adaire would only be to happy to give him a good kick in the back. That way, he could cool off that hot temper of his for a moment, which would hopefully last a bit more than ten seconds.
The final option was that her opponent had indeed mastered the art of instant (or at least damn near instant) acceleration and deceleration at high rates of speed, in which case physics would cry and she was a dead woman. Or maybe just a woman with no chance of winning here.
Ears of doom!
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Posted: Fri Jul 02, 2010 6:18 am
Wow... the water felt as good as it looked. Drejak wasn't quite sure what had happened. He had charged her, suddenly found himself very much out of space to run, something had impacted his back, and now...
Bubbles? Drejak couldn't see them because his eyes were closed, but even under water he could hear them and feel them drifting upward. His body seemed to be in a bit of limbo, almost like he was floating. His nose and throat were burning a little, but nothing he couldn't endure.
I'm out of the ring...
His thoughts drifted for what seemed like an eternity. His right arm kept trying to sink for some reason. Oh, right, he was still holding his staff. He hoisted it up a bit as he held his breath...
I'M OUT OF THE RING!!!
The exclamation of a four-letter swear would bubble its way to the surface, and with a sudden and renewed fervor, Drejak swam upward with all his might. His right arm trailed behind him as he tried to bring the staff, too. Stroke, kick, kick. Repeat. Within seconds he had surfaced, coughing and sputtering, only to hear an announcer counting down.
"Six! ... Five! ..."
Drejak's head swiveled as he searched for the platform. Luckily, he hadn't fallen very far when he entered the water. He had managed to miss hitting his head on the edge through the grace of Red's kick propelling him forward, but he was still nearly five feet from the arena.
"Four! ..."
With a disgruntled growl, Drejak hefted himself towards the arena and swam. Within that next second, he had reached the side of the platform and had both arms up on the edge, supporting his weight with mostly his elbows and shoulder muscles. His stomach pressed against the side of the platform...
"Three! ..."
Drejak pulled himself up over the edge and into a roll, the end of which brought him to his feet in a knelt position just a few, maybe two or three, feet from the edge of the platform. His fur was soaked, and a dark puddle of moisture spread across the floor underneath him.
"Tw-... Fight on!"
Drejak's eyes immediately returned to his opponent, even as he coughed out a bit more salt water. He glared at her, but instead of letting himself be distracted by those fake ears, he stared into her eyes. Drejak couldn't bring himself to look at Shadow who had no doubt seen his folly. His mate would know better than anyone, though, that his temper sometimes got the better of him. Drejak was a logical thinker; a cool customer; a level-headed kind of guy, until you made him angry. His actions, like most who were angered, would become more rash and frantic, and altogether careless. It was a weakness Drejak had been working for years to overcome, and, obviously, he still had more work to do.
He had been overzealous and let emotions get in the way. He had also misjudged how quickly he could move in this confined space, and his opponent had capitalized. With her capitalization, she had done him a favor, though. Red had opened Drejak's eyes to just exactly what he was dealing with... and he liked it. He liked it, a lot.
Drejak knew this fight was going to be a rocky one. He wasn't used to being confined to such a space, he had no information on his opponent, she was essentially taunting him, and perhaps he had started the match just a little cocky after his first victory. Yes, even someone as battle-hardened and strict minded as Drejak could let his judgment be clouded and turn into a blundering fool, if only for a moment.
Should she allow him to do so undisturbed, Drejak would resettle himself into his stance, with his left leg leading and his staff waist level along his right side. His eyes would show a different personality than what Red might have seen before. His gaze was cold and emotionless. No longer was he distracted or angered by her antics.
"That was good," he complimented her. After all, she had used her wit and ability to counter his lack of judgment and overzealous behavior. "Let's continue," he said, confidently. It wasn't like him to talk while fighting, but he wasn't in the throes of combat for this couple of seconds. Maybe he was starting to warm up to the idea of "friendly competition", or perhaps he was just trying to help himself justify his stupidity. Yeah, that was probably it.
Internally, Drejak had yet to stop scolding himself for making such a stupid error. He could make all the excuses in the world for himself, but that's all they were; excuses. There was no allowance or tolerance for mistakes in the heat of battle, and the rest of this fight would show his resolve to maintain such a standard.
If she hadn't attacked him by this time, Drejak would start to strafe to his left and circle Red slowly. He wanted to make his way closer to the center of the ring, to avoid having to worry so much about taking another swim. Drejak was here to fight, not take swimming lessons, which he realized he might want to look into when he had the time. His form could use some work.
To reinforce his drive for combat, and given that she hadn't caused him to react differently by now, Drejak would step towards her with his left foot, and thrust the leading end of the staff towards her chest again. The impact would be heavy and would leave a bruise, but he didn't really expect it to connect. The attack was more to get her to move, and try to help Drejak gain some momentum in the fight.
He could, again, make a follow-up to this strike, and his successive actions would be determined by his opponent's reaction(s). This time, Drejak made sure to keep his movements and emotions in check, but he couldn't hide the hint of amusement in his gaze.
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Posted: Fri Jul 02, 2010 8:35 pm
That turned out to be easier than she thought. Damn, those rabbit ears were a good investment after all.
Back to basics, Adaire was a woman of a tactical mindset. She knew three things.
1. Drejak wouldn't make the same mistake twice, she could register intelligence in his glare, even if it had been clouded by anger and overconfidence.
2. Fighting him toe to toe would be a long and arduous battle most likely, and if she made one mistake, it could be over.
3. She had just been handed a golden ticket, a huge advantage that potentially could mean relaxing at the beach unscathed.
Wars were lost by those who failed to fully capitalize on an advantage. Those who waited for their opponent to recover were fools. Honor was one thing, foolishness was another.
Adaire noted where her opponent had gone in the drink and coldly kept watch as bubbles rose to the surface. Would she attempt to save him from drowning, of course, after ten seconds had passed. While she was waiting she pulled something out of her coat that was certainly not another pair of rabbit ears.
Three Hira Shuriken found themselves in her left hand before he could even surface. These shuriken were small, only a few millimeters thick, but that could not discount their capacity to produce injury. They were crafted from high quality tooling stainless, each had six blades that came to sharp points, the blades sharpened to tolerances in the tens of thousands. Thrown with enough force, these babies could easily rip through flesh as they grazed a target. The points were designed to stick in hard surfaces, especially bone. Another interesting feature of these shuriken was a pocket near the base of each blade. If the blade sunk in the flesh deep enough, pulling it out would tear flesh apart.
She knew most likely his eyes would be closed because ocean water is somewhat irritating. Now, Adaire was an expert on ranged weapons and aiming them correctly. This included the shuriken, or you could be fancy and call it the way of the shuriken. Not exactly that she would need to be an expert at the moment, as he presented not only a close, but an almost stationary target as he rose and took time to get his bearings.
To throw them with enough force, Adaire needed only a strong wrist. To aim them, she needed good form. Both were something easily obtained with enough years of practice. The little shuriken, about the size of her palm in diameter, would barely generate enough wind resistance to make a sound as they flew at their target. If she had wanted, she could have taken out one or both of his eyes.
It wouldn't happen, she had her own code of honor, blinding an opponent merely to win a tournament was not honorable. Healers could restore a range of things, but sight was preciously fragile and the eyes so complex as to make it a bit more difficult to heal properly. He'd need them for more than just a tournament, so it wouldn't happen.
Tchink!!
The first would be thrown vertically with a little bit of arm strength, release timed to make sure it flew straight. It was aimed to hit the fingers that were wrapped around the staff. If it hit on target, the point would dig in the middle knuckle of his middle finger. Admittedly a small target, but she threw it vertically to ensure it would hit along the fingers even if something moved a bit. And really, he wasn't far from the platform, so she didn't have any great distance. She wanted to see if she could at least get him to drop the staff before he could devote his attention fully to whatever just stung his fingers.
Five feet was a fair distance to swim with a six foot long stone
staff in one arm. Seeing as he had five seconds, maybe it would have been better to just drop it anyway. The tournament surely had recovery teams, for a fee they might actually find it later. Surely a stone staff did not make a good flotation device?
Kshrip!!!
The second would land directly in the center of his forehead, if it hit it would most likely stick into that thick skull of his. Now was about the time he might realize, 'oh s**t, I'm being attacked by sharp flying objects', and do what comes instinctively, dive and swim the rest of the way under water.
If not, shrrrrip!!!
She would throw one to graze his muzzle as he swam and rip flesh as it passed, it would serve the double purpose of giving him a bit of a hair cut.
If he could even swim to the platform on time despite all this, it was time for the really fun part.Quote: Within that next second, he had reached the side of the platform and had both arms up on the edge, supporting his weight with mostly his elbows and shoulder muscles. His stomach pressed against the side of the platform...
It was time for Adaire to put her foot down and attempt to end this battle, right here, and right now.
Assuming the staff was in his right hand. She wasn't standing to face him directly. Actually she was slightly to his left. Her arms to her sides, as if she could put them in her pockets. And one very sweet smile was on her face.
As his left hand made contact with the platform her right leg would go airborne so the bottom edge of her boot could land on his grasping fingers in an attempt to not only smash them into the wood surface, but to make him pull back his hand instinctively, loose his grip, or both.
Depending on how he reacted to that and whether he still had his staff, there might have been more coming immediately after.
Now, if the staff was in the left hand, this would play out basically the same except she would actually be almost facing him, a bit to the right, as he first attempted to regain the platform.
First blood? Ring-out? Anime character reference?!
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Posted: Fri Jul 02, 2010 11:56 pm
((I apologize for the sudden rule change. But because I changed it as the fights begun, the tactic Mer employed will still be considered as if the count out was still active, which will contribute to her grading during judging. However, after this post, the new count out rules are in place.
Again, I'm sorry that it was so sudden, but it's a fix that I needed to do now than later.))
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Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2010 7:15 am
Also, hi. I don't mean to interfere, and I'm not making any judgement calls in this post. I just wanted to let both participants know that I am reading and keeping up with this entire fight, so if you have any questions or concerns about a ruling, know that you can come to me and I'll have read each of your posts up to/almost up to date.
Enjoy!]
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Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2010 9:59 pm
As Drejak surfaced, a stinging sensation ripped through his right hand. More specifically, the center part of his middle finger. His staff sunk like... well, like the rock that it was. He didn't have time to mourn over it, because his mind took off into a thousand considerations of what had just happened.
Adaire's shuriken had mostly flown true, except that it hadn't hit his knuckle. Drejak's fingers popped open as he shook his hand, taken almost completely by surprise by the pain. Almost completely because Drejak was a hardened and veteran warrior. He had spent the last four years of his life in military service. There were a lot of things combat taught you, and one was that if there was a source of sudden pain, you were most likely being attacked.
So burn as they might, Drejak's eyes opened as he searched for the platform. Luckily, he found it, and Adaire, in time to see her releasing the second shuriken. Drejak's eyes couldn't follow the object directly, but he could see how it had been directed, and he jerked his head to the side. The ruthless blades sliced through the lower portion of his left ear, and he snarled in pain and frustration.
The ever-present announcer made himself known again."Ten!" She had attacked him while he was outside the boundary. The count had been reset. Drejak had to ignore the pain in his finger. He could tell there was something lodged into the bone, but he knew the injury wasn't crippling and in such a small portion of his body it was hardly a real concern. Both his arms became dedicated to closing the five-foot gap between himself and the platform.
It wasn't a far swim, and only took a couple of strokes. The third shuriken grazed over the top of his muzzle as he turned his head to the side mid-stroke, and the cut caused him to wince. Experience and adrenaline kicked in, and pushed him to ignore the minor pain and reach for the platform with his left hand.
With his body's entire forward momentum now designated to this swim, rather than him reaching and dragging something heavy like he would have had to do before, Drejak's left hand found the platform, and would very shortly be followed by his right hand and his torso.
So as Adaire's right-footed boot came down to meet his knuckles, the boot would find its purchase, but so would Drejak's chest and stomach as they connected with the side of the platform. "Eight!" Drejak's mind separated from the pain in his body for a split second, as his mind and body surged with a new-found energy. By ringing him out, Adaire had probably given him the best advantage he could have asked for. When his body touched the stone, this is what followed:Earth Commune Established. Established Commune Level: Innate Ability Activated: "Earth Spike" Earth Spike
When activated, this ability summons the earth immediately in front of Drejak to jut skyward and form a conical spike. The base of this spike is two feet in diameter, and it tapers to a point at a height of five feet. These spikes remain rooted in the earth, but are propelled towards the opponent at speeds reaching nearly 35 mph. An impact from one of these spikes would be enough to easily break human bones and knock someone off their feet. It would be like getting slammed with a high-speed anvil. Due to their complete visibility and the straight trajectory upon which they travel, these projectiles are generally easy to avoid if launched in a direct manner. For that reason, Drejak is more selective with his timing for the use of this ability. "Earth Spike" provides Drejak with his primary form of damaging ranged attack. These spikes can travel as far as fifty feet before they lose their momentum and return to the earth. The manner in which this specific spike formed would be that the tip erupted upward directly in front of Adaire's center of mass. Drejak clung to the platform with his right hand while the spike formed and would almost originate between her legs. With the near-instantaneous development of this five-foot projectile, which was made of stone, now rather than soil, Drejak's left handed grip would obviously be displaced due to the stone there forming the spike's base.
The spike would power forward, and assuming Adaire didn't have instant reaction speeds or mastery of speed adjustment in the same manner that Drejak had lacked moments prior, the spike would hit her in the chest at point-blank range and carry her away with it as it moved straight across the platform to the other side, and stopped only when it ran out of earth-based material to travel through. The base would rip the wooden flooring apart as it traveled, and leave the stone below exposed to the sky. So, instead of charging fifty feet, the spike only had to move forty-five, and it would do so at its top speed.
In summary, the spike would carry these effects:
Displace Drejak's left handed-grip.
Slam into, and carry Adaire away, all the way to the absolute other side of the arena, and deposit her quaintly several feet beyond the platform's edge, and with the force that it carried, quite possibly send her flying beyond the ten-foot boundary extension.
With the assumption that Drejak now had an unoccupied platform to crawl himself up on, he would reposition his left hand and use it and his right elbow to clamber, soaking wet, back onto the square arena. He would stand on the exposed stone in the arena-long gap that his earth spike had ripped open for him. With his feet on this earth-based surface, he scanned the arena and beyond to see exactly where she had landed in the water.
The spike would be nowhere to be found after its function. The stone had returned and resettled into the arena. The only trace that it had ever occurred was the marred wooden flooring.
Drejak took the assumed moment of solitude to pull the shuriken from his finger. There was little flesh there, and the pocket in the design would provide no resistance as he removed it and licked at the bleeding wound instinctively. His ear twitched and flicked blood away, and then he wiped the blood from his muzzle, only to watch more bubble to the surface amongst his fur.
"Those things are sharp," he muttered as he walked over to the opposing edge of the platform. The shuriken was still in his left hand. He stayed a couple feet from the edge, though, and would arrive there only a few seconds after his ability had dismissed his opponent's presence from the arena.
Eye for an eye? Nah, more like a bath for a bath. The ring-out blows were a little unbalanced, though. Drejak wondered if the bunny ears she'd bought protected her bones from blunt-force trauma or helped her swim. Only time would tell.
GCD: 4 Posts
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 12:07 pm
Oh crap, she remembered reading somewhere that count reset if you attacked your opponent. Was that for this tournament?! Wait a second, hadn't they said something about the boundaries for ring out being extended after the first few minutes of the match! Geez, she thought, what a screw up all the way around, how can I miss so many important details!
Then there was this.
eek Thatwasn'tinthefeckingtape! eek
A magic user, one never knew what to expect from a magic user. Considering that Red was unable to use whatever magical energies her body possessed, she didn't much like magic users. Now nothing formed instantly, but given that she only had a split second from a split second to react, all she could manage was to fall backwards slightly and shift her torso to the left. The point caught her trench coat and she found herself pushed forward, drug along by her coat. It was a good thing, the point would have probably impaled her through the heart and she would have been dead instantly. Adaire didn't want to win by dying. xp Feather Weight A defensive move that allows Red to be forced to move in the direction of an attack instead of taking damage. It require Red only to take action to get her feet off the ground just before the blow connects. Kind of like trading ground for pain by moving away from the direction of an on coming attack. Only works for blunt attacks.
SPLASH!!!!
Adaire landed on her butt as she was propelled into the water, actually rolling several feet along the waters surface. The entire way buffeted by ocean water, and ogetting salt water in her mouth. The limber nature and lithe construction of her body keeping any of her joints from becoming dislocated as she rolled along through the water surface. She'd be a bit sore latter on, but for now she wouldn't feel it.
Lucky for her, her trench coat acted as a flotation device in case of emergencies. The armor material inside was extremely light, light enough to float anyway. Nor was the leather covering really enough to sink it. As she slid out of the coat, she made sure to open a pocket that would have been inside the left hip. It contained a little pair of eye protecting goggles, ear plugs, a nose clip, and small mouth piece that extracted oxygen from sea water. More contraband unlisted on her equipment sheet, but as they weren't weapons and this was a seaside town, very easily obtainable for the one who wishes to be prepared on the fly.
Of course, she did this in a hurry, knowing she would be attacked. Luckily, Drejak was over confident again. Evil Little Flayer Drejak took the assumed moment of solitude to pull the shuriken from his finger. There was little flesh there, and the pocket in the design would provide no resistance as he removed it and licked at the bleeding wound instinctively. His ear twitched and flicked blood away, and then he wiped the blood from his muzzle, only to watch more bubble to the surface amongst his fur. "Those things are sharp," he muttered as he walked over to the opposing edge of the platform. The shuriken was still in his left hand. He stayed a couple feet from the edge, though, and would arrive there only a few seconds after his ability had dismissed his opponent's presence from the arena.
Then she would dive until she was several feet underwater, abandoning her trench coat to do so. That meant she was possibly without armor for the duration of this battle. She had never fought in her coat while it was soaked in salt water, so she wasn't sure how heavy it would be. As long as the leather protected the armor pockets, it should be okay, but there was the mater of getting it back on land, where stone man was waiting for her with more earth manipulation.
Unbelievably, she had worn fishnet stockings and a tight red one piece with a bunny tail under her coat. The only reason she had done so was because of the water, and the possible need to swim. Now that possible need had become a requirement of sorts. Good thing she was always one to over-prepare.
Problem, swimsuits were damningly embarrassing. There were crowds above the water, crowds who would see her in a swimsuit, one that she had sewn a bunny tail on, a wet clingy swimsuit! A flush crossed her cheeks because she had even neglected the usual wrappings around her chest. Well, she was underwater, no one would see this embarrassing get-up if she stayed under water, and she could surface into her coat when the fight was over. All squared, because the thought of being on display made her extremely nervous.
Now she squared herself, eventually she'd have to attack if her opponent didn't come into the water. Her bowie knife was in a sheath on the left, held by a belt that rested over her hips. Luckily, the blade was greased to protect it from salt water corrosion.
As she swam underwater toward the platform, frog style, kicking her boots back without much of a problem. She realized this wasn't murky ocean water; it was nice and clear and blue. With her goggles, she could see quite a few feet ahead of her. So what was this? The pillars that held the platform had cameras? There were cameras on the pillars, all over the damned pillars, and probably hanging from the buoys as well.CAMERAS!!!! CAMERAS!!! CAMERAS!!
"I hate you Midus," she mumbled, her skin flushing despite the cool water temperature.
Probably the bubbles from her oxygen converter were giving away her position, but she didn't care, she would much rather fight the earth lover in the water.
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 5:56 am
Drejak disregarded the waning accusation of unsporting conduct as little-miss-contraband's
body skipped across the water. Guilty conscience? Drejak's ears were soon greeted by a most satisfying splash.
Drejak looked out over the water at Red's floating coat (a few seconds and previously stated actions later). He had gotten good distance with that attack. The thought crossed his mind as to how much damage might have been cause, but it had looked like she had been dragged by the coat, rather than the vertical spike pushing against her chest, so he wasn't sure damage had been done at all.
How she had been able to avoid the spike at all bewildered him. Even with his speed, Drejak wouldn't have been able to go from dedicating himself to stomping someone's hand to deliberately avoiding such a surprise attack, especially considering its upward eruption probably would have thrown off the victim's balance when they were within such close proximity.
He didn't linger on it too much, but it led Drejak to wonder if Red was capable of movement or reaction speeds much beyond his own, and beyond what she openly displayed.
Where is she...
With the water being clear enough for Red to clearly make out cameras attached to the pillars, then surely bubbles from her breather weren't the only thing giving away her position as she swam towards the platform. With Drejak being so close to the edge, he could see the approach of a red blur beneath the surface of the water. He thought for a moment, and turned away from the edge. Drejak didn't need to watch her swim. It was good to have an idea of her general location, but there was a more important matter he needed to tend to.
Drejak walked back towards the center of the platform, and turned to the small boat that was providing his mate with nearly ring-side seating, just beyond the floating piers. Drejak looked at Shadow for just a moment, only long enough to make eye contact, and then dropped to one knee in the center of the exposed stone and turned around. He set the confiscated shuriken on the stone next to his knee. Drejak's claws worked their way under some of the wood that had been loosened by his manipulation's rampage, and with a bit of effort, forcefully removed the wood from the stone beneath. He was trying to expose more of the stone.
Drejak's other senses were scanning the area for any signs of his oppnent's return to the ring, especially his hearing. This might go unnoticed by those farther away, but Drejak's ears were pivoting and swiveling atop his head to keep track of any splashes of water or the sound of his opponent trying to climb onto the platform.
Should Drejak hear her, which he would unless Red had some form of silencing ability, he would rise to his feet and turn to face her. Without a real weapon, Drejak would have to rely on hand-to-hand, and would settle into an appropriate stance with his left foot leading and his right fist chambered back near his jaw. His left fist would be clenched and hovering out in front of his chest at almost full arm's extension, but his elbow would be relaxed to keep his arm slightly bent. He was by no means a master of unarmed combat, but as he had shown in his first round, he was no push-over. Drejak still carried the weight of his seven years of training to be a hunter for his clan. Those primal teachings and methods seemed to carry plenty of their own weight in this fighting environment. As long as Red wasn't a water manipulator in hiding, and didn't have poisoned weapons sealed away in water-tight pouches, Drejak thought he could keep the fight in his favor if it came to melee combat.
If Red should choose to stay underwater, which in Drejak's mind gave him control of the platform and thus the arena and the fight, he would continue trying to remove the wood from the stone. He would toss the removed pieces over his shoulder towards the side of the arena he had entered the water from. Drejak was facing the side Red had gone in on. Where the discarded pieces landed was of no concern to him.
Drejak wasn't being arrogant or over confident, even though it may seem that way, and a lot of people might not understand why he was demolishing the ring's flooring. It didn't matter to Drejak what other people thought. He was formulating a way to shut this fight down, but he needed time. So far, Red seemed all too happy to provide him with this while she was swimming. Drejak had no intention of chasing her into the water, and unless a judge or referee demanded that he do otherwise, he would continue his little renovation project.
What would go unknown to everyone except his mate and himself, was that every second Drejak spent in contact with the stone composition of the platform enhanced his ability to commune with the earthen elements contained therein. Drejak had been lucky to receive this window of opportunity. Red had tried to capitalize on her ring-out, but Drejak thought he had made a rather impressive comeback from it.
GCD: 3 Posts
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