View Full Version : Competition of Champions 3 round 4: Loki vs Marushia
7th September 2004, 06:32 PM
*After the third round you and your opponent are both taken out of the underground arena and back into the tunnel you can from. Your attendant leads you further into the tunnel, but this time you aren’t in the tunnel for more than a minute before you come to a set of stairs leading back to the surface. Unlike the other times you’ve come to a set of stairs your attendant continues to walk ahead of you, leading you up the stairs. Once you are back on the surface you find that you are not in the next arena but in an open field with the other competitors, though there are only half as many as when the tournament began. For a minute you wait there, wondering if this could be your next battleground, or if not what you are waiting for. The answer to that question comes soon as you hear a loud shriek in the distance, followed shortly by another. As you look around to find the source of the sound you see 6 dragons flying toward your group. The dragons are all dark green in color and range in size from 35-40 feet long from their head to the tip of their tail. When the dragons land about 20 feet in front of you your attendant walks up to one of them and climbs onto its back, then motions for you to do the same. After you mount the dragon it takes off into the air and heads back in the direction it came from. After a couple of minutes you find yourself flying over a mountain range, and while most of the landscape here is made by natural forces it’s obvious that not everything was created that way. Below the dragon you can see a large pillar of stone, triangular in shape with sides that are about 20 feet in length, that raises 50 feet above the ground below it. The dragon descends toward the pillar and stops just above it, and while the dragon floats there it is obvious that you are expected to jump off its back onto the pillar since the dragon would not fit on the pillar itself. After a slight hesitation you jump down onto the pillar then look back at the dragon to watch it fly away, leaving you alone on the pillar. Well, you’re not quite alone, there is one other person standing on the other side of the pillar, your opponent for the fourth round. Though there is no crowd here, no announcer to let you know when to begin it is clear that it is time for the fight to begin.*
- No summons of any kind
- No arguing in the fight threads. If your opponent is being unfair I will notice it and take note of it.
- This fight will end on Friday, September 17th. I will judge it when I have time after that date.
8th September 2004, 05:30 PM
OOC: Darn, I really wanted to kick the guy off and steal the dragon to use, but we're past that part already. And why always trinagles? Why not make them all circles or squares? Or at least vary them.
I was going to this time, but I already started with the theme (since this is the 3rd CoC) and I decided to stick with if for another round or two. - Armin
I'll let Loki go first since I've had to go first for my first three fights.
9th September 2004, 06:15 PM
The stone cavern was soon a distant memory as was his previous fight, for now his thoughts lay upon the beasts that lay before him. The ancient yet sacred Dragons, their emerald glaze, gracing the skies as that cascaded to the ground, forcing a dull thud to emanate throughout the vast landscape. Dust instantly picked up, causing a thin cloud to partially hide the Dragons in their dust, but the attendant continued towards the behemoths as if a drone, uninflected with fear or even feelings for that matter.
Loki raised a thing eyebrow as he observed the foolish man approach the towering creatures.
Is he mad? I’ve never seen a sane man walk towards a Dragon without either a weapon or a motive. It’s comparable to throwing your life away…. He probed the issue further, soon realizing that such a dangerous event must have some sort of catch. He trusted that the organizer of the tournament didn’t purposely invite them there to maul them in such a manner, so he simply stood, arms folded as he awaited the monsters reaction to the advancing attendant.
Without so much of a snarl, the Dragon allowed the man to mount him, instantly proving Seijuro’s assumptions as well as eliminating whatever doubt he had about the entire situation. He smirked, mentally kicking himself to be so prudent about such a frivolous ordeal, as he climbed upon the nearest beast, almost immediately being lifted from the ground and into the sky by the Dragons mighty wings.
Holding tightly to the reigns provided, Loki spoke or thought no more. The wasn’t a need to. He knew nothing of who was seconds away from facing, so he had nothing to plot against. His skills needed no refinement….and his previous matched proved that, for he breezed through them with minimal effort, all save for his bout with Zadok. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, which was common for a man of his stature, but not common for an outstanding tournament. If there was no challenge in a competition, there was no competition at all. A fact he learned from personal experience. In fact, his lips uttered an inaudible prayer that this so called “Competition of Champions” would not suffer the dull fate as the many unsuccessful tournaments he’d been unfortunate to attend. Of course…he’d arose the victor, but, “One could not taste victory unless one feels it’s been earned,” a philosophy he’d adopted recently.
Loki’s contemplation was interrupted as his Dragon finally crashed to the ground, tightly secured legs causing a hard shockwave to raped through his body. These beasts are too strong for their own good. He cursed silently as he balanced himself, hopping off the giant lizard as soon as he did.
Yet, this time, there was no dust to speak of, for he stood upon a pillar, forged completely from stone. An incredible feat, but its splendor was obviously only meant for Loki and his opponent’s eyes, for there was no audience surrounding the arena this time. That’s too bad…I really wanted to humiliate the my unfortunate foe. Now that no one’s here to witness his shame, it takes all the thrill out of it… Even though pessimistic, he found his thoughts humorous all the same. It appeared as nothing could damper this man’s mood…in a word, he seemed invincible.
For the first time since he landed, his hidden gaze found it’s way towards the opposite corner of the battlegrounds, where a figure stood….undoubtedly his challenger. His smirk faded away as his hand caught the rim of his sunglasses, removing them and securely placing them in the pocket of his pallid pants, revealing the azure pools that were his eyes. His iris held a mystery of their own, yet concealed its secret all the same. Age and wisdom projected from those eyes, yet his features, a youthful face and healthy body were a complete opposite of what his windows showed. At this time, his hands continued there pattern, shedding his accessories until only a mauve tank top remained, emphasizing his toned physique, and adding to the intimidation his reputation already wrought. Along the very edge of the arena lay his discarded white trench coat, a newly purchased item, yet already a favorite on his list. However, his fascination with looks, mostly his own, his piercing eyes locked with his opponent, or at least the silhouette of his opponent, for the sun could be seen just behind him, hiding his actual features from his glance. Even with the scowl of battle he wore now, somehow, his smug grin cracked what would be the perfect expression for a warrior, and he opened his mouth to speak,
“ Fighter…I’ve had not the pleasure of learning your name…but let’s not get into formalities now. This is battle…not a social gathering. Yet, I feel I must tell you…if you don’t present me with a suitable challenge…this will end quickly. Seeing as you are a “Champion” of this tournament, I expect a performance worthy of such a title.” The gray strands of his hair rotated slightly as his words seemed to bring about a change in the weather. His right hand reached downward towards one of the two blades that had recently been revealed from under his heavy coat. At a glance, the obvious swords appeared to be normal and ordinary, yet Loki’s challenger would find out about the true splendor of what lay hidden in the iron cases. Seijuro’s legs were separated, as his turned body had an well-rounded view of his opponent, as well as a strike he may pose against him. He spoke again, as the left blade was gripped by his hand, “ Strike now warrior…time does not wait for stragglers, and I wish to see how skilled you truly are.” Egging his foe on, his face eroded into an expressionless scowl as he dedicated his entire concentration on his opponent’s movement, as well as his spirit signature, for an alteration in either fields provided Loki with limitless information…a perfect ploy for counter moves, or gauging a foe.
ooc: transferred from word. tell me if something is wrong.
10th September 2004, 12:11 PM
OOC: No errors as far as I could see, Loki. (At last! A real challenge!)
IC: The presence of the boiling lava pool was beginning to make Mako quite uncomfortable. Sweat beads formed and dripped off of his brow and fell down his face towards, then off, his chin. The water quickly evaporated before reaching the igneous stone floor. The grey-haired fighter backed farther away from the lava pool and stood behind a stagmite that grew out of the ground, but the heat still permeated throughout the room.
I hope my opponent gets here soon.
Close to twenty minutes passed before a figure appeared from the opposite end of the room. Good, he's here. Mako thought. The figure drew near to where the wind master lay waiting. Mako prepared to strike but halted himself upon hearing his name being called.
"Mako," came a voice, presumably from the being who stood nearby, "I'm afraid your opponent isn't coming. I have been sent to call you to the next arena. You have won this round."
"Do you think I'm really that stupid?" The wind master echoed his voice across the cavern to diguise his location. "You'll have to find me first if you want to fight me." It wasn't until the scratching and artificial voice once again came over the loud speaker that Mako finally realized this man was really one of the hooded attendants and not his opponent trying to lay a trap.
Hehe, damn. Are they all afraid of me? Or is it just my luck that they all managed to kill each other before getting here? That makes two today and my last opponent wasn't much of a challenge. Am I never going meet a capable fighter worthy of my time and skill?
Mako picked himself up from his hiding place and turned to follow the attendant back up to the surface. He kept his head down the whole time, so he didn't pay attention to his surroundings.
Sigh, I should probably do some stretching before my next fight since I haven't had much of a warm up.
After several minutes, Mako noiced that the amount of light that shown in the corridor began to increase and the air grew cooler and less stagnant. A chilly and fresh breeze brushed his shoulder-length hair back. The wind master closed his eyes and smiled. He felt quite refreshed. The sound of birds resonated through Mako's ears, followed by the rustling of leaves. When Mako opened his eyes at last, he found himself in a field with a forrest surrounding it. The other participants were also here, some of whom he remembered seeing in the main lobby, though there were fewer of them and none looked as refreshed as he.
Hmm, they must have all faced difficult opponents. In a way, I'm glad for them, but in a way, I'm glad I didn't. I'm sure all of them are strong, but I have a slight advantage over them all now. Still, I shouldn't get cocky. Best to fight full strength from here on out.
Just then, the bluish-grey eyes of the wind master caught sight of a most unusual figure. In some respects, the man looked very much like Mako, but in others, they reminded him of some of his old comrades, none of whom he had seen for nearly ten years. Likely, the two had never even lain eyes on one another, let alone met and introduced themselves before.
As Mako was about to walk over to the man, a strong gust came across the field and loud shrieking soon followed. While some of the other fighters flinched, Mako stood his ground, having been through some of the worst storms imaginable and having control over the air himself. Grey clouds began to block out the sunlight as several green dragons, enormous in size and terribly ugly, the very appearence of power and terror. As they touched down onto the ground, the blasts of air from their poweful wings flung up dirt until small dust storms loomed just above the earth.
All of the fighters leaned back in terror at the sight of the creatures. Even Mako was taken back at first, but soon saw that there was nothing to fear from them when their host and his attendants approached them and instructed the fighters to do the same. Mako's attendant mounted one of the viridian lizards, but Mako remained by its side. The cloacked servant grew impatient with him after directing him several times to mount the beast without compliance.
"I don't need that thing," said Mako, "Just lead me to where we need to go and I'll get there my own way. Besides, I need to warm up and a short flight should be just the thing. Not only that, it'll put me on parr with my opponent, whoever he may be."
Several minutes of intense manuevering, some of the most grueling that the wind master had ever experienced, ensued. Barrel-rolling and riding air currents, trying to keep along side the green dragon, Mako soon began to regret his decision and motioned to the attendant to let him on. The hooded attendant, who was rather impressed that Mako had managed to keep up for this long, allowed him on. Several other fighters and attendants rode their dragons close by and had born witness to this incredible stunt. Mako revealed a confident smile as he showed off his flying skill.
A few more minutes of having his hair blown back while enjoying the pleasant and exhilerating ride atop the majestic creature soon came to an end as a large pillar came into view through the mountain mist that seemed to creep up on them. Mako ordered the attendant to stop and to hover where they were. He then dismounted from his seat on the dragon and let gravity carry him down towards the pillar until he was dangerously close to it. At this point, he channeled his energy and the energy around his body downward, creating enough resistance to slow his descent and touch down softly with a light tap.
During his fall, he had caught sight of another fighter dismounting off of his dragon followed by the dragon taking off again.
For the first time since he landed, his hidden gaze found it’s way towards the opposite corner of the battlegrounds, where a figure stood….undoubtedly his challenger. His smirk faded away as his hand caught the rim of his sunglasses, removing them and securely placing them in the pocket of his pallid pants, revealing the azure pools that were his eyes. His iris held a mystery of their own, yet concealed its secret all the same. Age and wisdom projected from those eyes, yet his features, a youthful face and healthy body were a complete opposite of what his windows showed.
As his opponent began to prepare himself for the fight, Mako felt as if he were looking simultaneously at both a mirror and his old comrades as he had remembered them. He could not shake the feeling of nastagia, even though he KNEW that this was a different man. It happened to be the same man he had eyed just before having to fly off to this location.
Wow!! This is too wierd.
At this time, his hands continued there pattern, shedding his accessories until only a mauve tank top remained, emphasizing his toned physique, and adding to the intimidation his reputation already wrought. Along the very edge of the arena lay his discarded white trench coat, a newly purchased item, yet already a favorite on his list. However, his fascination with looks, mostly his own, his piercing eyes locked with his opponent, or at least the silhouette of his opponent, for the sun could be seen just behind him, hiding his actual features from his glance.
The aged, though still youthful, wind master stepped forward, cautiously, towards the center of the arena to gain a better view of his opponent and to try and discern his true identity. He brushed back his long grey hair over his shoulder to reveal his sword. Its hilt was a sight to behold. It was like the hilt of a broadsword, except with curved appendages that bent both towards and away from the blade on either side to be used to catch an opponent's weapon.
Mako noticed, now that the man had removed his outer garments, that he bore two swords along-side his waist. Grabbing the hilt of his own sword, he slowly drew it in preparation for a competition between blades. The blade of his sword, though shaped like a broad-sword was as thin and as light as that of a katana. It gave off a blue glow as it reflected in the sunlight behind him until he brought it in front of him and then again as he lowered it to his right side. He now stood ready for his opponent to begin, but expceted that he might wish to start with an introduction.
Even with the scowl of battle he wore now, somehow, his smug grin cracked what would be the perfect expression for a warrior, and he opened his mouth to speak,
“ Fighter…I’ve had not the pleasure of learning your name…but let’s not get into formalities now. This is battle…not a social gathering. Yet, I feel I must tell you…if you don’t present me with a suitable challenge…this will end quickly. Seeing as you are a “Champion” of this tournament, I expect a performance worthy of such a title.” The gray strands of his hair rotated slightly as his words seemed to bring about a change in the weather.
"Heh," Mako smirked and gave a short laugh, "I should really be saying the same thing to you, seeing as how I've yet to have a worthy opponent today. Two were no shows and the third was not nearly what I had hoped, though still better than nothing. If you should prove likewise, I shall be most discouraged.
"As for my name, while time is short, I am Mako Haseiko. I do not believe we've had the pleasure of meeting before, but I must say that you look strikingly similar to some of my old comrades. That is reassuring to me, but in the exact matter, I do not know why. Come, though. Let us begin, shall we?"
His right hand reached downward towards one of the two blades that had recently been revealed from under his heavy coat. At a glance, the obvious swords appeared to be normal and ordinary, yet Loki’s challenger would find out about the true splendor of what lay hidden in the iron cases. Seijuro’s legs were separated, as his turned body had an well-rounded view of his opponent, as well as a strike he may pose against him. He spoke again, as the left blade was gripped by his hand, “ Strike now warrior…time does not wait for stragglers, and I wish to see how skilled you truly are.” Egging his foe on, his face eroded into an expressionless scowl as he dedicated his entire concentration on his opponent’s movement, as well as his spirit signature, for an alteration in either fields provided Loki with limitless information…a perfect ploy for counter moves, or gauging a foe.
"Hmm," a true smile came across Mako's face now, "As you wish. But do me the favor and fight hard. Hehe."
His smile now changed to an almost cynical look. His eyes faded out to a pale white until his irises and pupils could no longer be seen. A heavy wind began to hurry in thicker and darker storm clouds as it blew across the pillar. A small, but barely visible, tornado conjured and whirled around Mako's body, rising up from his feet to his torso and out towards his arms. The wind master brought his left hand up towards his right shoulder, summoned his energy to it and violently thrust the arm out towards his opponent. A small blast of directed air shot out from it, intending to blind his opponent. He then channeled his energy to his feet and sprang forward, flying forward, chasing after the blast as he grabbed his sword's hilt with both hands. As he neared his opponent, he began to swing for the man's torso, but at the last moment, redirected his energy downward so that this force and his current momentum propelled him in an arc over the man's head. He then readjusted his swing to aim for the man's head.
OOC: I'm done now. I suggest that if we fight sword vs. sword that we post three moves per post to speed things up a bit. The reply will then be how we countered such a combo. Post as if the first move was successful, but if the first get's countered in such a way that the other two would not make sense, then just disregard the others. I hope I made this clear. If it sounds too confusing, just post however you feel is best.
11th September 2004, 06:05 PM
OOC: It's seems I'll have to kick my posts up a notch...I can't have my winning streak broken now...heh :D. I understand what you're saying in regards to attacks and what-not...but I'll go with your final statement...Post what you feel's best. That's the way I always RP..or at least intend to.
Though prepared for the fight at hand, Loki’s concentration was instantly broken as he caught sight of a gray lock flailing in the wind. Not his own, but comparable…nay…nearly identical to his own. Such as sight enticed his past to overwhelm his present, and in a moments time, Loki stared into the face of a history he seldom visited. Though blinded by the suns grace, the shadow before him took a new shape, transforming into the man Seijuro had forgotten eons ago. The blue eyes that were tainted with age like his own, were soon revitalized with a passionate blue, resembling the ocean itself…waves and all…holding not only ambition but determination and a cause. It held youth, and fervor…yet this alteration did not complete the metamorphosis. The structure of this man grew slender, showing the slightest signs of a muscular body, and the hair was too revived with a new coloration. The dirty gray that he presently carried grew tinted and purer, until it became a lively gray, nearing the white Loki once had. In no time at all, he was staring into the face of himself…slipping slowly into a time he’d forgotten.
He seen his former self within his foe…and with such a depiction of his youth came the recollection of the day that had changed his life…the day that created his hatred…the day that forged what he was now.
Loki gritted his teeth in either fear or restraint, and his eyes showed the apprehension he never displayed openly. However, right now, his mind was not concerned about how he presented himself, for it was overflowing with the pain…the sorrow…the malice…and the rage that was his childhood. What’s going on here?! He took a step back, hand removed from his swords hilt and hanging loosely at his side without motion. He was afraid…yet his fright not only lay in what his opponent had become, but what it represented. To gaze upon the face that stood for the betrayal of his past was a burden even an elite of Loki’s stature to bear….for he hadn’t made ends meet with his past…and that fact was now engulfing him in a silent cacophony of emotion, eventually enveloping him into a physical tempest…a genuine day-dream of what he called his history.
“ Apparently your feeble mind can’t grasp the fact that even with the power you wield, you can never mold the future you hope for. Gaze upon the land you love…yet look into the faces of those who control it…the ones with the power that counts. No matter how sharp a blade, or how must force you wield….the conniving and deceitful will always come out on top. It’s a common trait among rulers…most notably for the great rulers. They’ve crushed armies and empires not with just people and armies. There’s a side of war you’ve never witnessed…and it doesn’t occur on the battlefield. I’ve taught you swordsmanship not to chase after childish dreams or foolish ideals, but to give you discipline and strength. Not strength of blade or body, but strength over yourself. You may not be able to liberate these lands from the wealthy or corrupt, but I can give you the necessities you need to control your own life….to truly find peace. These lands will never be unified…The wars will never stop…The bitterness will be carried to the grave…and there’s nothing you can do about it. Peace can only be obtained within oneself….not around you.”
Hiko’s harsh voice crashed from wall to wall among the cavernous mountaintop as he attempted to persuade the child before him. The boy retorted, unshaken by the intimidation looming in the mammoth man’s form and voice.
“ You’ve helped me a long ways Master Seijuro,” formally addressing his sensei, smiling as he did so, “
But you’re the one who has given me the strength you speak of. Control over one’s self entails forging their own path…and it’s my will that this land will once experience the serenity it needs. The suffering…the pain…the corruption…,” he turned his gaze away, grimacing as he spoke of the unfortunate condition of their world, “ I’ll find a way to remedy this problem…I won’t sit back and watch this world be destroyed by those in power. If what you say is true, and I cannot cleanse this forsaken planet, then I’ll gladly forfeit my ambitions and return to your school…However…For now…I have to try,” the teenager turned on his heel, and began walking down the mountain pass towards a nearby city on the horizon, never again speaking as he went on his way.
“ Hmph…If it takes an example for you to learn this lesson, then so be it. I’m speaking from personal experience…” he briefly stopped, closing his eyes as he too, filled with nostalgia, “ …That this world…will die…no matter what we do to prevent it.” To the child this was whisper, for he was too far away from the camp site to hear his Master’s parting words. Sighing once, the man turned around, causing his long black hair to flail slightly in the wind as he made his way towards his cabin door.
As the hard wooden door snapped shut, the two…Master and Pupil….split paths…never knowing or even expecting a reunion.
The winds careened across the stone area, knocking Loki out of his temporary stupor and his contemplation upon his past. His eyes gleamed slightly as he forced his fear aside, adjusting to the new situation at hand. The gales blowing across him were obviously unnatural, and obviously a ploy exacted by his opponent. Oddly enough, the vague outline of his foe, along with his characteristics altered again, retaining the form it held before when it first landed. That’s a good sign… A steadied right hand found its way back towards his left blade, gripping it with a sweaty palm, I can’t have distractions in this fight…let alone that fragment of my past….I’m not ready… He was again pushed his thoughts aside, dedicating his focus upon his foe’s spirit signature. His Sixth Sense detected Mako, for the instant charged caused a slight change in his life patterns…an alteration easily uncovered after such discipline in the Spirit Element. Trailing behind his strike…Surely he doesn’t take me for a novice?
He snapped his blade free from the iron that concealed it, but only an inch, his arms pulling back as he prepared to lash out.
Loki smirked, feeling the glee he knew all too well when he exploited an opponent’s flaw. Yet, on this occasion, the usual lust to humble his foe was beyond measure. He saw this man…Mako…not as a competitor in a tournament, nor as a mutual rival. It was himself. The mere sight of his pasts doppelganger angered him. Bringing up memories he’d locked away decades since, just to be set free now.
How foolish he’d been…yet his punishment and mortification for his treason against his mentor had proven even more maddening.
The warrior gazed up at his lord, expecting prideful welcomes and a cheerful face, only to receive the icy stare filled contempt. Raising up from his bow, he frowned, “ My Lord…why do you stare at me with such disdain?” The cascading gray hair around his shoulders was now tied by a plain band behind his back. The teenager had endured many trials to be enlisted under the man who now grimaced at the sight of him.
Just returning from a successful assassination, even bringing his master the heads of those slain, yet to receive rage instead of thanks muddled the boys brain.
The aristocrat’s frown contorted into a sinister smirk, holding in it arrogance and fulfillment.
“ Loki…I don’t know what you mean,” a blatant lie, “…you’ve indeed served me well child…but,” the man raised his hand, and a shadow soon appeared from an adjacent hall, stopping next to the child’s lord.
With this man’s arrival came a plethora of soldiers, each surrounding the young swordsman, threatening him with their various blades and weapons.
This caused Seijuro to gasp in shock, mouth agape as he tried to question further, only to be cut off,
“ You’ll hold you tongue,” the nobleman grinned upon his most valuable servant as he uttered the command, “ Your questions are obvious, but let me make this brief. You’ve been ordered to be killed for the sake of the very dream you’re chasing.” He paused, savoring the surprise upon Loki’s face. “ When you joined my forces…You were told of my goal…‘To unite the world under in a withstanding peace’.
Well…it seems that too has changed…just as my loyalty to you has…” He chuckled as he tossed a bag of gold up and down in his hands. It seemed he’d sold his soldier out for a quick buck…but that wasn’t the case. “ Land and money equals power and influence in today‘s world. You are nothing but a pawn to achieve that…and it seems that my rivals saw fit that you be terminated… and on that basis, we’ve forged an alliance. I’d hand your corpse over to my competition, and in exchange, I’d receive half of their fortune and land…increasing my overall power 4 fold. So you see, your death won’t go in vain…” he slowly lifted his hand, ordering the soldiers to dispose of the child, but before their steel could pierce him, Seijuro spoke, yet instead of groveling or spouting insults, the nobleman heard laughter,
“ Thank you, Lord Kaiser” a puzzling statement from a person about to die, “…if my life is what it takes for you to reach your goal of peace on Earth then I’ll gladly except it…” He closed his eyes, awaiting for the advancing warriors to carry out their duty.
“ You fool…I could care less about what condition the world is in as long as I’m getting the better end of the deal,” The Aristocrat Kaiser shouted towards the doomed child, instantly bursting into an uncontrolled laughter.
Loki’s eyes shot open at this, the betrayal of his Lord evident, but the realization was too late, for just as he reached for his blade, a soldiers spear pierced him from behind, exiting out his front. Not much else was seen as the crowd of warriors covered Loki in an inescapable death.
Dammit! The elitist’s sword began to sparkle as it was overwhelmed with electricity, reacting just as the warriors emotions were. The blue aura of the sword was but a blur as it crossed the solid landscape, creating its own burst of wind, yet still unfulfilled in its true strike. The gust soon took its own color as it raced to meet Mako’s current, sparkling as the electricity jumped across the now visible air, appearing as a thick wave of water. It was now complete, the sheet of air now filled with the lightning from his blade, enveloped the primary gust Mako had launched, receiving only a slight imperfection in the center as the waves of air met. However, the most imperative factor of the current lay in the electricity in carried with it, the making or breaking aspect of the assault. ( See, Plasma Wave-Revamped)
Seijuro’s body eerily moved, due to his unsuspected labored breathing. His mouth was open and his body was slowly gaining a slight glint because of his profuse sweating. The exertion of force was more of whim than intention, for that single recollection was the main source of the melding pot that created his harshest emotions. On that day…he lost his faith in mankind. Though he hadn’t lost his ambitions nor his ideals…he learned a lesson he carried with him until then…A philosophy he still practiced,
‘Following is for the foolish, for when deceit and corruption rule those in charge, you‘ll be the one to suffer. If you truly have something you care for, you cannot put that power into the hands of others, for the hearts of the fickle are easily broken. To have true conviction is the means by which dynasties are born…empires have fallen…and ideals been made reality.’
He pulled his extended sword closer to his body as he relaxed his clamped muscles.
Even now…I still can’t tame my guilt and shame. I was such a fool in my youth… Closing his eyes, he stabilized his breathing, knowing that mental strain greatly affecting the tide of the battle. As his eyes opened to study the outcome of his attack, his environment also provided him with a new means of battling his foe. Calling storm clouds?…He’s just saving me the trouble… He thought as he concentrated now upon Mako’s reaction.
OOC: Sorry…had some trouble to day. Didn’t have that much time to commit to this. It’s not that great of a post, but I’ll get better…I promise.
11th September 2004, 10:46 PM
OOC: Hmm, it seems are characters are more alike than I presupposed. That's REALLY freaky. Hmm, I already get the feeling that I am fighting a loosing battle if that still was not your best. Well, I guess I'll have to try harder.
IC: A heavy wind began to hurry in thicker and darker storm clouds as it blew across the pillar. A small, but barely visible, tornado conjured and whirled around Mako's body, rising up from his feet to his torso and out towards his arms. The wind master brought his left hand up towards his right shoulder, summoned his energy to it and violently thrust the arm out towards his opponent. A small blast of directed air shot out from it, intending to blind his opponent. He then channeled his energy to his feet and sprang forward, flying forward, chasing after the blast as he grabbed his sword's hilt with both hands. However, this was no normal flight, at least not in the sense of how the word had become familiar to most people. As any onlooker, who were to witness and record such a glorious fight, and later enter it into the written records of their own history for their children's children's children to recall, could tell you, this man did not simply move as if flying. No, this was trully flying.
The secret of such an ability was well engraved into Mako's subconscious, placed there ages ago by a once wise, powerful, and respected old man. He had spent 100 years of mental training in the Astral Plane, developing and honing his brain so that his body might properly be directed to complete the task. He came to digress from his Piscean origins and find his own niche among the clouds in kinship with the birds of the sky and the bright rays of the sun. In his lifetime, he must have danced upon the air more than 10,000 gulls could do in theirs. These thoughts, memories, and lessons were instilled in him and recalled with each spring and each glide, every flutter and every weave and everytime his feet left the shackles of the earth that imprisoned him.
As he carried himself forward, sliding along the air as if propped upon a sheet of ice or carried by some gliding gull, towards his opponent, he could sense his body tingle as his energy reached out from him to grab that which hung in the air around him. He sensed it growing darker as he commanded his energy to block out the sun with thick and grey storm clouds for which he would later call upon if necessary. His eyes, glazed over with a white layer of energy and matter, fell out of their usefulness. He no longer needed to see his opponent for he could sense everything within a short distance of himself.
As his sword hand moved to make the first strike, he sensed a vibration in the air, a disturbing wave of energy resonating from his opponent's deirection. He could not see the blue wave that approached him, but knew that it was there; an oscilating wave that stretched itself out horizontally and strained to touch him with its electric tendrils.
The wise old wind master's thoughts shifted for an instant and his body rose, a matter of inches, out of the direct line of the wave. His sword, an ancient sword, crafted by the followers of the Archangel Michael in the days when they had forged weapons to be born against the minions of darkness, lay outstretched along his right side. Its silver blade, with its lumonous blue glow, glided through the wave as if it were any other blade sailing through a ripple of water.
Tiny bolts of lighting that resided in the wave crept up along Mako's sword in such a way that it seemed as if they were being called towards it. They skipped along its metallic skin as a stone skipping across the water after being thrown by a young boy until at one point or another, they ceased to skip altogether. This sword was no ordinary sword. It had been blessed countless times by angels and was infused with the powers of light so that no light could harm it and all darkness feared it.
Wo unto those who stand against the light and blessed be those who stand beside it. God grant me the strength and might, to do the right, to banish night, to force your enemies to flight, and make them all to see the light. This was the inscription, set in angelic runes upon the blade at the time of its forging and served as a both a warning and a blessing. Many times, Mako had read these words and reread them, from the time when they were first taught to him by the angel Requiem in the Realm of Lesser Angels. He had been one of only four humans to ever be allowed into that realm and this sword, Mako's Soul Sword Light, was the undenyable proof that he flew their angelic banner.
Never have you let me down and never have I let you down. We have faced many foes together and still we face them. Let us face this one more together as well.
The outlines of a man appeared before Mako's eyes, but it was no mere man. It was a vision, an illusion, a conjuration of his own mind. The figure was no longer his opponent, but now took on his own shape, the shape that his opponent's most closely reminded him of.
Aagh, you!! Why are you here? I told you that I will not be taken over by you again. You've taken everything I've ever loved from me and now I've come to take it back. I won't sit by and let you hurt the ones I love. You don't exist. You were never meant to exist. I will kill you and then you will no longer exist. I shall kill you and be free of you once and for all.
For any who could read the wind master's mind, it was painfully obvious that this strange opponent, Loki, had reminded Mako of himself so much that it was almost like he himself were standing there. It was as if he stood there, mocking himself and had now wished to end his humiliation. This was not a fight between man and man, but a fight between man and himself.
The silver blade of the wind master's angelic weapon shone brighter and bluer. The air around Mako's body seemed to oscilate and even change color until it became a wave of transluscent white around him and his Soul Sword. To an observer, it would have seemed like blue and white flames had consumed him and empowered him to the point where any and all might be afraid of him. In a flash of blue and white, sweeping up energy from his opponent's wave and combining it with that of his sword, the air around him, and his own, and produced a most fantastic strike that could possibly end his opponent's life then and there if he were struck dead on.
"I will not allow you to beat me. I'll finish you once and for all. Then I will finally be at peace!!"
OOC: Hmm, that didn't turn out half as bad as I had expected. Again, this should be a most interesting fight since are characters are alike in more ways than we may ever know. As you can see, I'm going all out from the get go.
14th September 2004, 04:55 PM
In the instant his wave was enveloped, and after gazing upon the eerie glow of his opponent's blade, insecurity and caution overwhelmed to elitist, immediatly changing his demeanor from a burning rage, to a serene retreat. In the midst of his present trauma, assurance was needed to keep his mind steady. Determination and serenity had always served him more-so than anger...though he could reach that plane within this fight. The turbulence sprung up from his youth had always been a burden, yet it had been surpressed...not forgotten, just hidden. Suddenly, to look into the face of a mere double of his former self...his former guilible self, instilled not only guilt, but an undying hatred of that incident. Betrayal and ignorance tainted his path, and even though he was the only soul who probably still carried this weight, to him, it appeared as an outward scar, or blemish, upon his vision of perfection he sought for himself. Already had he made a renowned reputation for himself. He was the strong...the witty...and the confident. All and all a force to be reckoned. Yet he could not erase the failure of his past...and the foolishness of his younger years. Him and his ill-informed ambitions had led him astray and cost him what single strand of hope he held for humanity. But to see his life toyed with as a pawn for selfish gain for a greedy man...such wounds he could never remove. Seijuro had not heeded his Master's words...another failure he endures. "Listen to men with experience...thus the terms Master and Pupil." A phrase he grew accustomed too on his journey back to his training grounds from years of absence. Being welcomed or not was another story and was too vague to remeber compared to his other troubles. On that day...he learned independancy, for his views of world refomr would never be reached through the army of a common man like his former lord. If he sought the purification of the world...it would have to come through his hands. And through this philosophy, his hands were now red with blood and hardened with calouses, a pure sign of his laborious lifestyle and troublesome life. However, the msot evident of these signs lay his very eyes.
Weariness, age and wisdom could be seen within those pools if you look hard enough. His grin was indeed a display of his conceit and arrogance...yet being the most evident, doesn't make it a prime factor. The hidden portions of a mans' soul usually contain the most distinct parts of their personality and character. Lies and betrayal...they were indeed apart of this world, for it was necessary for success or gain. Yet, malicious gain in whatever profit is not honorable at all...and thus the cleansing of this planet is needed.
I plan to do just that... He found himself wondering again, falling into the pit of his mind while his foe still abosrbed the bulk of his strike. However, his wave was no contained in Mako's blade, a normal negation would have worn off by now. Obviously, his foe's ploy was to counter strike with Loki's own power...a humbling event if any. Yet dwelling on stature and position cannot be a full-concern, a fact this warrior had taken to heart.
The force and speed of that strike are nearly incomparable, and if his sword is refined to the point it can contain and endure the imbalance is commendable, and will no doubtebly, increase that power several fold. He paused, watching as the aura encircled the warrior before him, appearing as a beacon of death. However, matching brawn for brawn is not necessarily the best ploy to take... He threatened to smirk at his own humor, but he had no time to pet his ego, for the glowing beam contained within that silver blade was released, spreading acorss the field as a compressed wave towards Seijuro.
"Untap! (Wall)" A battle-cry of the sorts, the warrior called out his technique, instantly enveloped in his own splendor of blues and whites. The light blue aura was the coupled by a falling claw of lightning, splitting the clouds for a smei-second before crashing down upon Loki, mixing its white streaks with the already tinted hue. However, the bolt did not surrounded the fighter in a second aura. Instead, it compressed around his torso and arms, slowly bending into jagged strands the covered his body and upper limbs, all save for his head. The jumping sparks within the lightning bolt never lost their fervor as they continued to hop, space by space, around his new armor. ( Armor of Rai).
Even if the warrior wanted to move away from the strike, all his time was lost, and as this grew evident, the wave sent by Mako had collided with the fighter, causing a contorted sphere to retract away from him as the to auras mixed. The was a shockwave, rocking even the stone pillar, that resulted from the two bodies meeting. The cacophony of crackling and sizzling was still resontatin, past the warriors, past the pillars, and even continued beyond of what seemed and infinite field, just to reach back and follow the same pattern. A smoldering smoke of a thin gray soon appeared where Loki once stood, but it was soon carried away by a stray flurry of wind, revealing a fallen Loki Seijuro, bent on one knee, clutching his chest as he regulated his quick and sudden breaths.
One would claim the blast was victorious, for few have even witnessed Loki in such a weakened state. Howeverm if anyone was rejoicing, it would have been swiftly replaced with disappointment, for the warrior rose to his feet, with nearly stable breathing. He cracked a grin, and opened his mouth to speak,
"I will not allow you to beat me. I'll finish you once and for all. Then I will finally be at peace!!"?" He mocked the warrior, " If by toppling me, you expect to find peace...then prepare for many restless nights, for you'll never defeat Loki Seijuro." He lifted a clutched hand at the warrior, expressing his conviction and sincerity. " You resemble me...when I was young...and you indeed have the talent that I possessed. However, the days of the past are long gone...and I'm a different person...stronger...wiser...Hell...you could call me an Earthbound God.
I cannot erase the past...but I can make sure my future doesn't suffer the same fate. The burdens of my failures are mine to keep...and mine alone to defeat. I believe destiny has made sure we crossed paths. The torment in your eyes...it seems you have issues as well with your history. But if by defeating you will bring me one step closer to lightening this weight on my shoulders....then you shall taste defeat by this matches end...that I promise you!" A blast of thunder rocked the battlegrounds as it met Loki's booming voice in a crescendo of noise. Just as Loki utter his last words, the skies parted once again, bleeding out a waterfall of electricity that twisted into the sky before lunging swiftly at Mako like a serpent at the direction of Loki's pointed blade. ( Thor's Hammer).
" Face the raging tempest before you or come and face my blade..." He said it with unwavering determination, placing his blade at his side as he awaited his foe's next move. He had no doubts that his skills were great...but the importance of this battle was what brought the faint insecurity within his soul. Yet, this battle would prove who was stronger...Loki's past, or his present.
17th September 2004, 10:31 PM
All was silent, as is usually the case when an erruption of unfathomable magnitude prepares to burst out its own particular species of devastation upon some unknowing, helpless souls. No sound reach Mako's ears, not the crash of lightning, nor the sound of the wind or the screeching of the dragons above whose masters wished to linger further as onlookers of the no doubt furious battle that ensued. Through glazed over eyes, the wind master's view was skewed, wavy, as if a think fog had decended and was tearing the very dimension apart from itself and spreading it to such a point that it could no longer bear to be separated from the whole and demanded to be returned with the order being soon fulfilled. The lips of a hazy figure before him moved in a manner that mimicked speech, but not a word reached the former master's ears. Then, a flash of white light blotted out the sky and its quilt of cummulo nimbi from clear view before descending upon the figure and enveloping his whole being.
With the power of both persons, who shared the same outer shell, behind his angelic, silver blade, Mako struck and struck hard. He watched as his sword cut through the light and vapor, retaining its divine transluscent blue aura, moving at a rate that seemed imconcievable by all principles of modern physics. He bore witness to every micrometer that it traveled in a time period that seemed nigh eternal. Slowly, steadily, the blade made contact with the wall of light that impeeded on its path. A ripple of smoke and light was percieved by Mako followed by another and another and another, each outracing the one that came before it and consuming it, thereby increasing its own magnitude.
Mako's hair appeared to be made of blue fire as the energy given off by both his Soul Sword and his opponent's light shield radiated in a surge of blue and white in all directions and passed through his once grey locks. A strong current of air rushed across the platform, aiding in its erosion and nearly sweeping away anything in its path. The sky once again grew thick with dark storm clouds which now swirled in a whirlpool of black and grey. Even the dragon riders grew fearful and fled as they could no longer bear the force of the torrent that was upon them. Mako showed a frightfully maniacal grin on his face which was only surpassed by the sight which was soon to follow.
As the wind master paused a moment to turn his head up slightly, though without any indication of relent of effeort upon his blade, he saw the one sight which he had long feared and hated. It was no longer his opponent, the mundane and perhaps more merciful figure that was Loki Seijuro. No, it was a creature beyond any mercy, an unrelentless foe who had tormented Mako every waking moment of his existance since that one day nearly twelve years ago. It was himself he saw. As clear as any sight, he now saw himself in the place of this Loki Seijuro.
You?! What do want from me?!!
What do I want? I want nothing. The question is "what do YOU want?"
I want you to leave and never come back!! I want you out of my life forever.
Aw, well you see, I can't do that. The reason being is because you took something from us that was very important to me and to to you that I want back and, since you obviously cannot bring it back, I shall have to exact reparations for it in another manner.
What are you talking about?
You know exactly what I'm talking about!! You killed them.
You're responsible for all of their deaths.
No, it wasn't me!! I never laid a hand on them.
You didn't have to. All you had to do was help HIM. Just by leading him to them, you condemned them all to death.
That's not true. I had not idea that they ...
Of course you knew!! You knew that by leading him to them, the balance would shift and the guardian would be forced to realign it by whatever means possible. And in which way? Why, his favorite of course. Those people killed in the war, those innocent men, women, and children, whole planets of people destroyed because of that one decision you made. You led him to THEM.
SHUT UP!! Get out of here!!
And let's not forget about ... her.
You leave her out of this. She died long before any of that. Don't you think I've suffered enough already for her death?
No!! It will never be enough. You will be cursed to remember every second of her last few moments. I will make it so that you never forget what you did to her.
I won't let you. I'll kill you first.
Just like everyone else.
No, their deaths were unavoidable and tragic, but yours will be both satisfying and deserving!!
If I go, you go.
" You resemble me...when I was young...and you indeed have the talent that I possessed. However, the days of the past are long gone...and I'm a different person...stronger...wiser...Hell...you could call me an Earthbound God.
I cannot erase the past...but I can make sure my future doesn't suffer the same fate. The burdens of my failures are mine to keep...and mine alone to defeat. I believe destiny has made sure we crossed paths. The torment in your eyes...it seems you have issues as well with your history. But if by defeating you will bring me one step closer to lightening this weight on my shoulders....then you shall taste defeat by this matches end...that I promise you!"
"That's not gonna' happen. I don't need you. I've been poisoned enough by you." Mako was still under the impression that his foe was really himself and not Loki Seijuro, though the body he wished to slay happened to reside in the very same spot. His ears were shut to the sound of Loki's voice. He could only here the sound of himself in his mind and wished nothing but to be rid of it.
In a pure fit off rage and emotion, Mako unleashed an unheard of amount of energy for any human to release. From the air, his sword, his opponent's spells and himself, he gathered all the energy he could and redirected upon his opponent's barrier. A tornado spun and was cast downward descending upon both fighters and the entire pillar. Its stone structure fissured as the wind tore at it. The entire arena became encased in one giant storm. On the inside, razor sharp gales of wind tore at anyone and anything within, including Mako. The adrenaline that built up in him, as well as the emotional pain, toppled any physical pain he endured.
Wind Lock + Hurricane Fury
I cannot erase the past...but I can make sure my future doesn't suffer the same fate. The burdens of my failures are mine to keep...and mine alone to defeat. I believe destiny has made sure we crossed paths. The torment in your eyes...it seems you have issues as well with your history. But if by defeating you will bring me one step closer to lightening this weight on my shoulders....then you shall taste defeat by this matches end...that I promise you!"
These words, the words spoken not by the illusion of himself, but rather, of his opponent, Loki, echoed in the wind master's ears. They were the first audible sound he had heard in what seemed to him like eons. They enveloped his being like a cool mist and penetrated his heart, seeking out the unrest that lay within him and slaying it.
The wind master's whitened eyes faded back to their natural bluish-grey and were covered by the heavy folds of skin that had sheilded them in times gone by. His body no longer emanated profound volumes of energy, but instead became heavy, losing all feeling and motion, and came crashing down on a section of the pillar that had remained fairly inact. His last attack had nearly drained away everything he had left in him, but he was able to produce a smile before falling unconscious.
At last, I have found peace. This man, whoever he is, his words have touched my heart and I can at last come to terms with my past. Should I awake to meet him once more, I should like to thank him for all he has done for me.