Anyone? Take your choice of first strike or choice of arena...it makes no difference to me.
Hell... why not? Classes are over for now... I've got some downtime. You promise to be prompt and I'll keep up. I'll be using Sar and hmmm... I don't feel like coming up with an Arena so I'll leave that to you my friend. En garde.
Another run down town, Another storm.
Rain had begun to poor from the heavens, and lightning stretched across the sky, jumping from cloud to cloud as if it were playing tag. Certainly not one of the more beautiful days but I guess we could say that’s a matter of opinion. Some people enjoy the rain; I enjoy the rain.
I remember just walking into town when the rain began to fall. How I always found myself in places like this, I have no idea. The town had been deserted for years it appeared. Some buildings had already collapsed inward on top of themselves, and perhaps the absence of life was another clue, although maybe they just don’t like the rain and have sought out shelter till the storm passes. Perhaps I would do the same, for I may enjoy the rain, but I simply did not want to be soaked from head to toe.
I took off running towards the nearest building and quickly came to a stop when I got to the door. I slammed my fist firmly against the door three times and waited for an answer. When no one came I beat against the door three more times, this time just a little bit louder. Still, no one came to the door. Perhaps I was right, maybe this town really was deserted, but I have never been the kind to be very rude, so for the third time I beat against the door as loud as I could…still no answer.
“Well,” I though to myself, “I’m not going to wait out here and allow myself to succumb to Pneumonia.” So with as much courtesy as possible, I kicked down the door and rushed inside.
I found myself in a very dark room, quite hard to see from one end to the other, so I removed my lighter from my pocket and ignited the flame. Visibility was still minimal, but I was at least able to make out a table in the far corner, and as I approached I noticed a few candles sitting there that had not been fully consumed. Talk about luck eh! So I lit the two candles and sat down in the chair beside the table. Propping my boots on the table, I leant back in my chair and lit a cigarette.
“Well, I guess I’ll wait here until this storm passes by…..”
OoC: I figured it was you for some reason. Interests and writing styles are definately a more elaborate signature, never duplicatable - only a close likeness. We've never had a fight, have we? Let's keep to it.
A sleepy day, one where the clouds hold the sky nestled above themselves selfishly, but in return they rain down a cascade of brilliance and life. The air is clensed, fires cut down, and life reborn anew from the ashen depths of the earth. Such a simple process, something so basic and minut... but utterly beautiful in its perfection. A man's concept, perfection, one that can never be satisfied until a single realization slips from the heavans like a grain of sand from an hourglass: It is all perfect in its imperfection.
Why, then, does man purge and destroy that which is considered inferior? Why are we driven to kill anything beneath us? A perplexing question... maybe something we cannot understand, we're not meant to understand. It doesn't matter... all I know is that I have to continue the madness to suit my own goals. Selfish, like the clouds above, I steal. The only question is... will I succeed in bringing down the rains of life? Or will I be judged by their god, and live an eternity in 'hell'? "Whatever.[color=black]"
Alone, a man by the name Sar Cathan stood in the middle of the graying desert - water spiraling down from the sky, sweeping through the cracked earth and drenching the young man of about twenty five. There was no sound, the void of thought had consumed it, and the hues of the earth were staunched by the bleak skies above. A dreary picture, painted with the pigments of reality.
His eyes drifted to and fro, focused partly on the decrepit town about a mile away, but sweeping across the plains in backward thought. Soaked to the bone, his clothes clung to his flesh - their colors indecipherable, still coated with a layer of gray sediment. Donning a pair of jeans and a darkly hued cotton shirt, he wore a distressed leather jacket over himself; but the rain still seeped through, and still licked at him. At his sides, the two companions he trusted most rested on his waist, the Tyrfing tapping on his left leg, and the S
Trouble always had a way of finding me, or maybe I was the one sub-consciously looking for trouble. Either way, I had found myself in another tight situation where it was evident that I either needed to kill, or be killed.
At the young age of twenty I had already soaked my hands in blood that would never wash off. I had lead a life that most aren’t proud to have lead, but fuck it, I was young and cocky and had no problem with slitting the throat of a fellow man. Perhaps this time I could get out of a situation without shedding blood; probably not.
I slowly lifted myself off the ground and wiped the crimson liquid dripping from my mouth. Once you’ve been through as many fights as I have, being thrown through a brick wall is practically painless, although it does get the adrenaline pumping. With that in mind, I completely escaped from that relaxed feeling I had moments ago as I sat inside the shelter of the house, and was now fully alert, ready to do battle with this red haired stranger who stood before me.
The rain continued to poor down from the sky and I was not getting any dryer. That’s fine, I enjoy the rain. Water poured from my blonde hair, no more than two inches in length, and trickled down my face and then down my shirt and pants, removing the mud which had stained them when I was thrown through the wall and into this ally. Thank god I had taken my jacket off earlier when I had entered the house, now I’ll have something dry to wear when this is all said and done.
Before I made my move I was quick to asses the man who had attacked me with minimal warning. He appeared to be a man who knew how to handle himself, however I felt confident in my ability to take him, or perhaps not, but I’m sure as hell not the type of guy to back down.
“Well, I must say you took me by surprise there,” I recalled saying, “but I’ll thank you not to underestimate me.”
I dug my feet into the soft earth and took off back towards the hole I had just flew out of. I could see the red haired stranger’s eyes widen, apparently taken by surprise with my show of excellent speed, and before he had time to react I was on top of him, slamming my right fist into his face. I felt my knuckles crack from the force of my blow, so I could only imagine what his face felt like as he tumbled backwards and out of the front door in which he had entered just moments ago.
OoC: For the record, I am kind of working with a different style of writing than what I am used to simming with….just for general information.
OoC: I noticed in your first post. First person is an interesting perspective. I, myself, can't stand to write in it. Even when writing about myself, in a present tense perspective, I do it in third person. Kudos for attempting it though, even more if you succeed.
The threads are finely woven in battle, each attack overlaying the last, stacking upon one another and condensing into a single string. The string becomes thicker, as the intent to kill rises dramatically. And as it grows and strengthens, becoming a solid rope, intent is what finally ties it together; binding the edges and knotting itself, whence the product soon takes form from the rising flames. An intense hatred molded into a weapon to cut down the person, despite all reasoning, is unknown to you.
Despite all around them, and the situation at hand, the Noose is crafted... and one shall hang on this eve.
And that Noose will now bare down, that Noose will sit lightly on the nape of a neck... until the moment it constricts, snapping it.
Catching himself on the ground, his body slid back slightly while he regained his balance. Sar's eyes widened, visage snarling into a manic grin, and like the trigger of a handgun, his tongue clicked. Releasing the flood gates, a heavy aura crushed down on the small town, the blond haired man staggering as it slammed into him like a freight train. Raw emotion poured out from Sar, potent energy sweeping up even the rain as it fell to the ground, consuming it, assimilating it into itself.
A vision ripped through the blond haired man's mind, his own blood strewn across the walls as his stomach seeped organs, a silver fang tearing its way through his throat and finally Sar's coiled grin stretching across the bleak sky. And the pain was all too real, and the vision was all too vivid. Just like a noose, the emotion constricted around his neck - choking the air from him.
The vision came to a halt suddenly, just as the blunt force of Sar's knee racked into the man's jaw, grinding it against itself. Rocketing backwards, his head whipped back and pulled his feet off the ground at an upward arc. Rotating his waist mid-air, Sar drug his other knee up and then rolled down with the brunt of his weight, slamming it directly into the other man's center. Forcing the wind from his lungs, he let out an exhasperated choke before changing course and ricocheting into the ground, sliding back to where he was initially thrown.
His body hit the wall, blood freed from his esophagus, with a loud thud. The wall splintered, cracking like fearful ants fleeing from carnage. Releasing Tyrfing from its leather sheath, the words Óðr were formed but never pushed from Sar's lips. Instantly, the blade began to draw energy from the air and form it into an aura around the blade. Sar's expression remained manic, psychotic, and most of all, excited as he stood between the light and shelter of the building, casting an ominous shadow over him.
My body lay limp against the cold wood of the splintered wall. I couldn’t breath, my vision was blurred, and again my mouth was filled with my own blood. I remember thinking to myself, “No one makes me bleed my own blood!...What movie was that from?...Oh yeah, Dodgeball, Ben Stiller is a funny guy.” A smile stretched across my face but was quick to fade as I realized now was not the time to be thinking of crap like that.
Slowly I propped myself upon one of my knees, and finally made my way back on my own feet. I began to stagger back and forth as the blood rushed to my brain. Shaking my head violently I opened my eyes as wide as I could, staring at the red haired man who had just issued a series of blows to myself. It was quite evident that my peaceful, rainy afternoon was quickly taking a turn towards a long and stressful evening.
I readied myself to make my next move but I had just noticed the blade clasped within my foes hand. It would not do to attack unarmed like this, for I would surely lose. Different scenarios raced through my mind as how to handle my current position, and it was then I noticed the table that had been violently slung against the wall earlier in the bout. “That will do,” I thought to myself, and with one fluid motion I had reached over, grabbed hold of the table leg and slung it with all my strength towards my new friend, or perhaps enemy, it made no difference.
I was quick to follow in the tables wake, and before I had preformed any action, I already had it planned out in my head. The top of the table slammed into the red haired foe, I had already put myself in some sort of aerial maneuver, and as the table connected with flesh, my feet connected with wood. I felt my feet pierce the wooden table and connect with the chest of my opponent.
The table was quick to splinter into several pieces, flying in countless directions, however the only direction note worthy was that of the flying body of the red haired man. My feet had struck his chest with enough force to send him flying out into the rain, skidding across the muddied ground.
Since I was quite agile at that ripe age of twenty, I had no problem landing back on the ground with as much grace as any man could hope to posses. I took a firm defensive stance and waited for my new found friend to regain his composure and come at me again. Sure, I probably could have kick his ass all over town with him lying in the mud, practically defenseless, but that just isn’t my style.
"Sar was it? I guess it would only be proper for me to give you my name since you so kindly gave me yours...For now you may call me Rez. I think it only proper for you to know the name of the man who will be claiming your life today."
It was of course the perfect time to reveal my name, while he was upon his back, and I standing tall, standing strong.
OoC: Yeah, I decided to go with first person, but also I used to try for the vivid detail in ever attack I dished out, but I though why not go for a story-telling type feel. So that’s what I’m trying to do.
OoC: Sorry for the delay, I'll try and be more prompt. I'll be out this weekend for the most part, however.
"...call me Rez..."
Rez.
"Then Rez it shall be," Sar snickered to himself face down in the mud.
"Eh," asked Rez, unable to hear him.
Pushing himself out of his face-plant, Sar held himself above the ground in a push-up position, the Tyrfing still held strongly in his hand. The blade lie untarnished, the mud being forced away from its radiating edge. "So it will be Rez..." he announced again, clarifying himself, "that will be engraved upon your headstone."
Swinging the Tyrfing up as he vaulted himself forward out of his slump, the blade released the stored energy into a projectile wave of harnessed spiritual power. Lashing out in place of the silver blade, the azure energy tore through the air at Rez. Not quite shocked at the predictable attack, but still slightly caught off guard by the execution, Rez side-stepped without much thought, leaving the wave of power to rush past him and cleave a gaping wound into the building behind him. Given the distraction, Sar closed the small gap between the two as fast as he could; dropping his torso from under him and hurling himself at Rez's legs first in a sweeping motion, he pivoted on a single hand that he'd grounded right before intial contact. His legs slammed directly into the back of Rez's knee joints, a miniscule suction noise sounding off into the air before his knees buckled under the massive force thrown into the attack.
Forced into the air, Rez was helpless to dodge as his eyes only caught a glimpse of Sar's body coiling just beneath him. His legs extended, having somehow fit himself under Rez in the small amount of time alotted, he crumpled his body like a spring and then broke forward with his hands bracing him behind his neck. The two forces met abbrasively, the downward force of gravity coupled with the spring-action karate-kick, and a second suction noise resonated before launching Rez higher into the air with a gut clutching crack.
Óðr
Resonating, the Tyrfing's edge quivered rapidly as Sar flung himself to balance. Swinging Tyrfing at the air, the blade shrieked loudly and released a huge blade of anima* into Rez. Catching him at point blank range, the energy slammed into his back with bone-crushing force. Burning into his flesh, the skin shredded under the extreme instability, blood falling to the drowning earth beneath him. He choked out a mangled cry before it ripped through his clothing and flung him over twenty feet into the air before disappating into nothingness, leaving him to descend on his own accord.
Taking his cue, Sar dashed forward to meet him on his fall with a follow-through.
*Anima is latin for life force. I'm going to try and start working that into my writing. Not a very known fact, the translation, so just making a note.
OoC: I'll be gone as well till around Monday night, so I guess it works out for both of us. Anyways, I'm fixing to head to my last final exam, so I'll put up a reply shortly after that.
I remember telling myself it didn’t hurt as I was suspended in air, barely moving as if time stood still. I tried to push the pain from my mind, but the feeling of blood dripping off my back only strengthened the reality of the mortal wound inflicted upon me. Mind over matter, the wound was there, clear as day, but I refused to let it get to me. If I allowed it to consume me now, all would be lost, my life included. I could not let my guard down, I could not let that bastard Sar best me.
My body was still in motion, heading towards the earth that drew nearer with every passing second. I had to make a move, and I had to do it fast. Sar was waiting for me below, waiting to make a fatal blow against myself, and I just couldn’t let that happen, not now, not this early in the fight. I still had some FIGHT IN ME!!
A spark was ignited within me and a raging torrent of energy poured from my soul and into the open world. The ground began to shake, the wind began to howl, and the rain started to fall harder than it had before. Lightning screeched across the darkened sky and thunder shattered the violent air.
I had no idea where this sudden burst of power came from, but I was a fighter and it was pure instinct to know what I had been blessed with. So I grabbed hold of that blessing and wielded it as King Arthur had done with the mighty Excalibur.
I could see a sense of shock erupt from Sar’s eyes as I appeared to have made a speedy recovery from his attack, and not only had I recovered, but apparently I was stronger, even faster than before. This would be fun, and in one quick movement I had left Sar’s line of sight and was now behind him with both my hands pressed to the lower part of his back.
“It seems the tables have turned,” were the words I uttered to Sar, right before I sent a shockwave of energy running through his flesh and bones, sending him flying several yards away and into the ruble of a broken down building. Sar dove head first into a pile of concrete and rebar. You could almost make out the sound of bones breaking, or perhaps it was old concrete crumbling under the pressure, but never mind that shit, just know that Sar will be feeling that one in the morning…if he makes it that long.
Do dead men walk, mommy?
No sweety, they stay in the ground.
Then what is he?
He's a Beast, dear, don't look at him.
And they never stay down.
"We'll just keep getting up, won't we?" Sar murmured beneath the rubble, vague senses of his past rushing forth into his mind, leading to his round-about rhetorical statement.
"The lucky souls never stay down... even in death."
Pushing his hands out of the rubble that he'd landed in, he brushed himself off while pulling his torso up, debris scattering around him. Blood was smeared across his forehead, but nothing serious, in fact the biggest headache from the strike was the inertia as he collided with the earth. Sprawled out, as if he'd fallen asleep in the bushes in a drunken stupor, he sneered to himself. It jolted him, but only a tad.
His chest smoldered lightly, the clothing slightly singed from the enigmatic power that had struck him, but it hadn't really affected him much besides that and the push. Brushing the blood from his forehead, Sar pushed himself out of the crushed concrete and stumbled down the steep hill it had created. "Well you've got something there, kid. But I told you, don't hold back..."
Solemn Promise.
"...cause I'll kill you."
In a single fluid motion, the Tyrfing was sheathed and Sar's body lept forward, his form seeming to fray apart from Rez's perspective. His body moved too fast, Rez's eyes physically unable to actually follow the movement could only see the motion of the body with blurred details and an after-image, as if there were two of the same man. Weaving, Sar rushed forward like a boxer dancing around his opponent but in full stride. Fisting his hand at the curl of his chest, Sar slung it at Rez.
Rez parried to the side, the bluntness of the attack easily foreseeable and the attack quite generic. Slapping his hand on Sar's wrist and diverting the blow to the side, throwing Sar out of balance and redirecting his torso to follow, Rez fell into Sar's advance and dropped his center of gravity. Weighting himself forward, as Sar's open side passed before him, he flung himself forward with his shoulder outstretched. Spiking him in the side, Sar choked out a hollow gasp, the wind knocked from him. Driving him forward, Rez nearly picked Sar off his feet while driving him backward. Heaving him up the pile of rubble he'd previously landed in, the two vaulted over it and finally crushed into the wall of the building behind the collapsed one, Sar struggling wildly as Rez drove him into it. A sound of snapping creaked from inside the wall, as if some-sort of support beam had fractured but not given way. Gnashing his teeth, Sar wrapped his arms around Rez's torso and struck upward with his knee, trying to break the tightening grip that was squeezing the air from him.
A single strike, no break. A second strike, no break. A third strike, still no break. A final strike, reaching up with his elbow, Sar channeled all his anima into his raised arm. Focusing himself into the attack, the first Solemn Promise was launched.
Raging down, power dispursed as the flesh grew near to Rez's back. Waves of pain launched through him, even before the blow hit him, a sadistic amount of energy radiating from Sar's forearm. Crushing into Rez's back, his spine snapped inward, the sound of bone grinding against bone drowned out by the sudden thwack of energy tearing through the air in an explosion of pure life energy. Releasing immediately, Rez had neither an idea as to what hit him, nor control over his body in the split second he was hit. In fact, the only thing Rez could see was the blurring, burning, red vision and then nothing, darkness. He could feel his skin tear, he could feel his face bleed from its pores, and he could feel his bones grind on themselves under his own bloody skin. His spine hadn't broken completely, but vertabre had cracked completely and even parts of the spines had been severed completely inside his body. A single point on his back had almost been utterly devastated, however still in tact. The surrounding tissue had been severely damaged as well, pain reducing his mind to an utter throb of thought. The fuck... would be a good summation of his thoughts, one could presume.
Staring down into the crater, seeming to delve down at least thirty feet, Sar grinned. The surrounding ground had been melted into glass from the shear impact and speed. Hyper-accelerated so fast, he'd actually melted the earth around him. Raising his thumb to his nose, he snuffed at it and drug it across the nose simultaneously, proud of the strike landing dead on.
My body lay there at the bottom of the crater, the scar that Sar had left on the earth. My body was there, but my mind was not. It was if I had fallen into a black hole with no bottom. I could see myself falling and falling with nothing but darkness in every direction, left, right, all around was darkness. I had lost all feeling of my physical self, I was now in a mental battle to return to the land of the living, and if I lost the battle, all that waited for me was death.
I began to think to myself, “Why had I taken the path I now walked? Why had I chosen a path of violence? I guess its cause that’s all I ever knew, the thing I was best at doing. Plus it gave me a sick kind of adrenaline rush that no drug could ever produce.” Ha, but now here I lay, possibly in my grave if I was unable to rebound from this very tight situation. This Sar was something else, I had never faced an opponent quite as strong as him, in fact, compared to this guy everyone else I had fought with had been a chump.
Perhaps I should just allow myself to slip away into the darkness. Maybe I am meant to die here…
OoC: Hey bro, I have some things to take care of and wont be able to get here until next week, so if you want to put this on hold that'll be cool. If not, we can leave it here.
OoC: Take your time. I'll have it no other way.
OoC: Hey man, sorry I havnt been back. I was working like a dog before school started back up, trying to get paid as much as possible. Anyways, I am back in school but Tuesdays and Thursdays are completely free. So let me know if you want to continue with this and I'll get on finishing up my reply and we can move forward.
OoC: Do it, to it. I'm working full time and full time school now, so excuse any delayed responses, but I'll try my best.
Well man, I guess theres no way of picking this back up. I would love to, but too much school, you know how it is. It was so much easier my freshman and sophmore year when I had bull**** classes...not so much anymore. Perhaps we can continue when some time frees up for the both of us.
OoC: There is. Just finish it when you can, if you can. I'll take it from there and clean out this page.