It's been ages since I actually had a good fight. I know I'll be rusty, but I want to go up against someone brave enough to hit me with their best shot... just cuz I'm rusty doesn't mean I want your pity, or for you to go easy on me. Quite the contrary. I want just the opposite... come at me with all you've got... force my creativity to save me.
Strike... no, he never went by that name anymore; Blayke sat alone atop a granite boulder, from a cliffside overlooking the rocky ocean's edge. Waves crashed violently against the vertical slope, working steadily into the ages-old shelf of stone which patiently bore the ocean's thrashings. Reflecting on things deeper than thought, Blayke twirled the hilt of a japanese sword in his fingers, the immortal blade making a small gritty pit in the boulder.
It was a curious blade, crafted from a mixture of silver and specially-forged carbon steel, at a forge unlike any in the mortal realm. The quickened silver gave it's edge an extra bite when it came to fighting demonic scum, a task for which he was gifted the blade and his charge.
And now several millenia had passed, and so had the mortality of Blake Warren. His immortal self donned the name Strike, and as a bolt from heaven he scoured mortal planets, his silvery-lined blade devouring evil in order to leave peace in it's wake. Sometimes silently and in the shadows, sometimes explosively in a way that alterted everything within several light-years of his presence, he had saved lives and civilizations, worlds, galaxies, until now he struggled in his mind to remember the purpose... the reason behind it all.
When will his task be done? Blayke thought deeply, steadily... was there an end to it? Surely when it was fulfilled he would move on... pass into the life beyond this one, reunited with the loved ones his over-stretched timeline had left in the dust.
"There is something I have forgotten... something incredibly simple... a key or clue to what I am to do next. What is ahead of me?"
The words were barely more than a whisper, torn and faded almost immediately from his lips by the turbulent winds which now came from the ocean. A cold spray carried on the gale brought Blayke back to reality, and he stood up, realigning himself to his surroundings. As he did so, he did a double-take, peering into the forest behind him.
"Curse my thoughtful state... I didn't even notice another presence until now."
There was nothing for it now, Strike knew; Whoever had arrived surely had felt and seen him. He swung the heavenly blade into a ready stance. He would have to wait for them to act first.
"D@mn... I hate waiting..."
(OOC: Man, brain seems dead. Until I get the profile completed, I'll just ask if you want any specific settings or rules. Posting time limit, post length limit, etc, etc..)
Cien quirked a brow when the one he'd thought to use for target practice got up. His helmet was an very advanced piece of equipment, an interface of sorts that replaced his own senses during battle. "Hmph, have I gotten so rusty that a mere brat with a sword would notice me?" he thought to himself and lowered his crossbow. He was crouching under the shadows cast by a large tree, bushes around him to make sure he was hidden. He was quick to conclude that he wasn't as hidden as he thought, then realized the kid didn't have eyes in his neck and couldn't possibly have seen him there. The crossbow rested on his left forearm, providing extra stability for the shot. Given the distance and the winds from the ocean, he needed it.
"Now the question is, do I lure it here and slit it's throat from behind, or do I play a little with it?" the words came as a question, but he knew there was no one else around that could hear him. He sat quietly for a moment and played with the thought of just firing a bolt into the eye of the brat and watch him fall helplessly into the ocean, but decided to play with it instead.
He moved very slowly, making sure the bushes would not move in any unnatural ways and give away his position. He changed the bolt to a Stunning and cocked the crossbow, then aimed it in the direction of his selected target. He calculated the distance and took the wind into consideration before firing. If it struck where he wanted it to, it would hit behind the boy and force him forward rather than accidentally push him into the ocean.
If all went the way he wanted it to, his cloak and the bushes would conceal him long enough to force the boy close to where he was, and then attack with the Pata. He just needed to remain calm and patient and wait for his prey.
OOC: I'm a VGS vet, an unorthadox fighter. If you want to hit me, you'd better write it in... cuz I'll be hitting you. Rules? Hit me as hard as you can. No excessive healing, no ***modding (a little modding for purpose of story is ok, but no overdoing it.), no destroying the planet, no destroying my weapons, no one-hit kills, and justify your power through your writing style. Other than that, I look forward to fresh blood. ;)
[COLOR="lightgreen"]Strike heard the shot, coming from a different direction then the presence he had just felt only moments before. He cursed, and swung his sword around, deflecting the bolt. He dove sideways desperately as he did so, but the ricochet'd shot grazed his neck and flew off into to land in the ocean. Almost immediately, Strike began to feel the numbing effects of the poison as it began to permeate his bloodstream.
Gritting his teeth, Strike cursed silently to himself. Largely to the benefit of being half immortal, the angelic energy that flooded his being began to immediately counteract the poison... but on the other hand, Strike felt more sluggish than usual. Not good.
And the shot had come from a different direction than he'd anticipated. 'You've grown too rusty in your absense...' he said to himself, 'Not every warrior has the bravery to take you head-on, face to face.'
'So, it'll be an assassin then. One who evidently has experience hiding his spiritual presence. No matter, I'll flush him out. He can't fight me from the darkness continually... a bolt like that will not take me by surprise a second time... and I'm already starting to feel better.'
Strike continued to study the forest with his senses, knowing that attempts to hide from the crossbow-wielding fiend would not avail him... he was already targeted. 'Well I guess I have no other option...'
[COLOR="Navy"]"COWARD!"[/COLOR] screamed the warrior, and as he did so, he erupted into flame. Waves of yellow and red licked up across his entire body, permeating his being until it became hard to separate where the body ended and the conflagration began. He raised his palm to the forest, standing boldly upon his rocky overlook as if it were his own personal stage.
"I dont know who you're working for... but I'm giving you this one chance to save yourself. Run away... return to your boss and admit defeat, or go your own way, but you shall not strike me from the darkness again. I have lived in the darkness before, and I know it as my home... already I feel your presence in it. Fight me like a man, face to face, or flee like the soulless scum you have shown yourself to be thus far."[/COLOR]
As he spoke, a ball of orange flame conjured into existence before his open palm, swirling dangerously and swelling into the size of a basketball. As he focused on the spell, he studied the forest...
[COLOR="Red"]"HERE I COME!"[/COLOR]
... THERE. A presence... fear. Only for an instance, and then quenched like a tiny matches' flame, but nevertheless it was enough. Like a beacon to Strike's spiritual senses, it shone bright, betraying it's master's whereabouts. The ball surged into life, rising high above the forest like a napalm. Cien looked up, and moved to avoid the spell's trajectory... but Strike was now flame, therefore he was in the flame... and it's path was not determined by the physics of trajectory but by his own spiritual guidance system. It altered course, and smashed Cien directly in the face.
Liquid fire splashed over his body, searing his skin instantaneously and yet the pain it brought was so... tortuously slow. A good deal of his flesh was dissolved away about his cheekbone as the liquid fire clung to his skin and clothing, already having spread to the forest floor... Soon the entire woodland would be engulfed like the assassin... the assassin that dare strike the warrior of heaven.[/COLOR]
(OOC: Aha, I've never been in an unorthodox match before, actually. Also, Stunning bolts aren't poisonous. ;))
"HERE I COME!" The voice caught him off guard, and when he raised his head he saw nothing but a red glow.
The pain was overwhelming, and only a silent scream escaped from him. He had been too busy preparing another bolt to shoot at the kid to see the flaming inferno in time, and he paid the price for it. The blast threw him further back, smashed him against a large boulder before leaving him alone, his clothes aflame. He quickly got to his feet, ignoring the searing pain from his cheek, then threw himself to the side of the boulder and rolled around until he had managed to put the flames out.
He lay still for a moment, still feeling the burning pain, but also noticed that it got considerably warmer as the seconds passed by. He turned his head and noticed the rest of the forest had also been set on fire, and cursed his luck before getting up. He realized he saw no trace of the boy in the vicinity, but the direct area in front of him was burning and a bright light shone through even the fiercest flames. He made a quick assessment of his injuries, but found himself to be in good enough shape to run from the flames. To his further irritation, he noticed that his interface was damaged, and his cheek hurt badly. He could not fully assess the damage until he took it off, but interface flickered at times, meaning it was damaged. To his relief, however, it seemed to be working still.
Having put some distance between himself and the raging fires, he stopped and crouched down so that he could see to his injuries. His face was badly burned and the interface was partially destroyed, but still in working condition. Luckily, his eyes were not harmed. He noticed that his holster was empty and that he must’ve dropped the crossbow either in the initial strike or when he was smashed against the boulder. If the latter was the case, it would probably be too damaged to use. He cursed his arrogance and decided to keep his full attention on the boy when he next came across him. Next time, such a frontal attack would have trouble hitting him. He examined his cloak only to find that it was too damaged to be used in order to hide him anymore. It was with a groan of disappointment that he shrugged off the still smoldering cape.
"Tsk, that's a nasty attack.. I should have paid more attention." he thought to himself as he plucked a Poison bolt from his belt. He twitched the tip and let some of the poison sip out into the palm of his gloved hand, then immediately applied it to the burns on his face. He gritted his teeth and groaned silently, but it would numb the pain for a while. He had made himself resistant enough to the poison to avoid accidentally poisoning himself, but he hoped it would still numb the pain.
He spent only a brief moment looking over the rest of his armor, but aside from slight burns to his leather armor it seemed as though the cape had protected him. He rose to his feet and to his relief felt only a brief but searing pain in his cheek. He was still not fully immune to the poison, luckily. He looked around for any movement, but saw nothing. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled a low tune barely audible, then waited.
It was not long until a raven by the name of Calithrawn came crashing down from the sky, as if to catch a mouse, but it landed gracefully on its masters' shoulder. "Calithrawn." said Cien, "find his location and which direction he is facing." The raven only tilted its head before doing as it was commanded. Cien had been taught a spell that would summon a companion to him in battle, and he had the most use of a raven. Ravens would soon be drawn to this place when they smelled the burnt flesh, so it was the perfect companion.
He moved in a wide semi-circle to avoid detection, and stopped when he could smell the ocean. Calithrawn was directly linked to his interface, so he could see exactly what the raven saw. His opponent stood not far from where he would’ve been standing after having sent him flying, seemingly burning, burning so brightly that it was painful to even look at him. Luckily, his interface managed to tone down the brightness to an acceptable level. Cien realized that he could be calm on the outside, but his insides were probably raging with pain from the earlier attack, and thus he would probably be easy to notice if he remained still for long.
He remained still only for a brief moment, then flicked his wrist roughly, engaging the Pata. He smirked as he heard the familiar sound of it clicking into place and locking itself to that position, but quickly regretted doing so from the pain he felt. He considered the possibility of getting burned to ashes the moment he got in close of the burning body, but realized he wouldn’t have survived the first attack if that was the case. Instead he got up, took a deep breath, and rushed to his opponent from what he thought was behind.
A few meters from his target without any visible change in the inferno he grabbed the hilt of his sword, took a few dashing steps forward and made his attack. He stabbed the Pata blade at what he thought was his foes waist and simultaneously sliced at what he thought was the neck, but he couldn’t tell if he hit or not. He felt resistance in both attacks, but he could’ve hit his opponent’s hand and shoulder for all he knew.
Deciding against finding out how long it would take him to get burned by the flames, he quickly put a foot right above his Pata and pushed, sending him away from the inferno. He watched his blades, but saw nothing but blackened blades, so he could not determine whether he had hit or not. He put some further distance between him and his opponent, holding his weapons ready in a defensive position and waiting for the retribution.
(OOC: Considering the rule of no planet-destroying exists, I must ask... has it happened before?)
OOC: Just a note, I shall reply soon in any case, but when we left off Strike was engulfed in an Aura of flame, and had just set fire to you, and the forest. Hiding and discreetness... aren't his style. He's right in front of you... bright as the sun.
And yes, it has. A few times. The best time is when the warriors simultaneously destroy it through the clashes of their combined power... I've been in that situation a couple times actually. =P
Sorry it took me a few days to read your post, I've been moving.
(OOC: Technically, if you're as bright as the sun, I would be blinded merely looking at you and unable to do anything, but alright, I'll edit it and fix that up. Also, I hope you didn't burn me with napalm. If you did, I'm screwed right there!
Alright, fixed. Also, do you have some profile I could take a peek at? I didn't see it in the Character profile section.)
You're right... this site has been hacked so often I lost track of whether or not my profile was posted, lol! I'll get something up. Once again, sorry, it wont usually take me this long to reply... been very busy since move but I'll post tomorrow and it wont take this long on a regular basis I promise you. =P
(OOC: Oh, don't worry about it. I'm keeping myself busy on my end anyway. ;))
Best thing to do when fighting vgs vets like Strike or myself, is simply power your original character up to become a match for them. We really don't give much quarter, and the planet-destroying happens more oft than one would think. But when yer fighting someone here, best to face them. Take the blows and dish em out. it's what we've been doin for years.
Things got crazy there with the move and getting sick and who knows what else happening to me... if you want to continue this, I will gladly post my response. Just wanted to know if you were still around, and therefore if it'd be worth the time.
Yeah, I'm still around, but I don't feel much for rping at the moment. You're free to challenge elsewhere!
Allright, sorry about that =/