Another Open Challenge...




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

No one seems to like responding anymore, so I'll try this again. Open challenge to whomever, we'll fight in Hybrid (Some physical contact, some left up to the other person), if you don't understand you aren't worth the time to fight. Anyhow, I'll be using a brand new character which I'll post after someone accepts this, don't forget to make your entrance and the arena right off the bat.




Posted by Strike

Hybrid, eh? Well, I don't understand, but I'll go ahead and do it anyway - and if you deem me 'not worth the fight', then you're not worth it for me. Before you get picky, do your homework. Whaddaya say?




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

If you're the original Strike, I'll fight you with the regular style, and if you're not the original Strike...then I'll take first attack and we'll do Hybrid.




Posted by S

That's Strike, allright.




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

I've always wanted to fight Strike, I guess we'll finally have the chance! I'd like first attack, please, Strike. =)




Posted by Strike

Ah, then that leaves me to Arena I suppose? I apologize for rustiness... it's been a good long while. A GOOD, LONG, WHILE. But anyhow, I can promise you the fight will be worth it, if you stick with me. Persistence and Consistency is key to all things, my friend. Here we go!

[COLOR="Navy"]Being a native Californite, Samuel’s casual shoes slushed through the new fallen snow. This being the end of November, the snow was half sticking, but half melting, combining to make an interesting, but not attractive coating which blanketed the entire valley. The rubbery slush felt so strange to his shoe, but Sam hardly noticed the muddy, suity snow - but rather had his nose pointed skyward, watching the black night rain thick powdery flakes like sugar from the sky. The valley led to a stream, and he walked amidst darkness now - the house was a ways away, and it’s poor light so opressed by the night sky, it’s light seemed to lose all zeal within feet away from the front porch.

No matter. Samuel had become quite occustomed to seeing in the night. He had waded through much darkness in his life, just to - OUCH!

A branch clotheslined Strike in the forehead, and not watching his pace, Strike fell pell-mell onto the wet, muddy ground, scraping himself several times over on some careless rocks. Steadying his potentially fowl mouth, Strike stopped for a breath. He rose jerkily to a squatting position (so as to not muddy his clothes further), listening for the familiar tinkling of the stream to ascertain his whereabouts.

He gripped about to stand. His hand found something cold, and hard. Something like a smooth stone jutted curiously from the ground, near the roots of the knarly tree which had knocked him down. He circled the stone, squinted, and found that the stone was more than that... but was, rather, a headstone. “SPAHR”, in large bolt print, was etched lonesome and forbodingly onto the surface of the granite... but otherwise the polished landmark was barren. The name held some rememberance... but his mind couldn’t catch hold upon it.

A twig snapped...[/COLOR]

(you may refer to him as ‘Strike’ for simplicity... I am calling him by his mortal name for storytelling reasons.)




Posted by Strike

BUMP. You know, it was a while two topics down, and I was getting worried.




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

I forgot to message you, so I only repped you, but I guess you didn't see it. I had to reply to something else yesterday that I forgot about and I've been working on my reply for you Strike, don't think I've forgotten you, it should be up soon. Like, soon as in an hour soon, not a day or week soon. ;-*




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

Bullet-like rain began to shoot through the flakes of snow that Strike was so intently curious about watching at the moment. The rain pummeled Strike so harshly that he actually had to move away for a moment, as it felt like needles on his face and skin. He raised an eyebrow, as he wasn’t aware in any way that the rain was supposed to pick up, let alone continue at all: period. Suddenly there was a rumble and the ground shook slightly, was it thunder? Strike turned towards the black line of trees and backed up cautiously, couldn’t be too careful. Suddenly, Strike noticed, the rain stopped, his eyes scanned the darkness. Lucky for him, he was careful.

The trees burst wide open, foliage flying everywhere, shrubbery sliding into Strike’s feet, and the dark figure soaring towards him. Strike leapt away quickly, it was a man! In an almost animal rage, he had charged out of the trees and tried to punch Strike, but had leapt away, and therefore he missed. Sliding across the ground, he slowly spun himself into a standing position, and faced Strike with an almost gentlemanly presence about him.

He was dressed in a dark-red tunic and what seemed to be black pants, underneath the tunic he appeared to be wearing chain-mail (Strike could see this due to the shortness of the tunic’s sleeves). “How do you do?” He said with a charismatic charm that Strike couldn’t resist and before he could realize it, he had already replied with a simple, “Fine.” The long-haired man smiled politely, “My name is Sean and I’m from Shin-Ra. I’m looking for opponents worthy of my skill so that I can gain prestige in my clan and for my clan. I’ve heard of your feats. Fight me or die where you stand.”

The man called Sean begun to bow, crossing a hand across his chest and letting the other drop to his side. However, what Strike didn’t know, was this man was trained in the art of the Ninja. Tucking forward as he leapt into a front flip, Sean pulled a few shuriken stars from his pant’s side and launched him at Strike. Catching him off guard, they struck the ground at his feet and ricocheted into the distance, causing him no harm but the shock of the sudden attack. While he was distracted on the shuriken, Sean had landed and was within striking distance.

His fist came forward and as Strike came to block it with his own, Sean stopped and veered the hand up his arm causing a painful burn. Swinging his left leg around Strike’s right, Sean’s hand slipped off and his elbow made its way into Strike’s ribcage, knocking him off balance and ready to fall. In one swift movement, Sean released all his attacks, spun clockwise, and slammed his right fist into Strike’s gut and threw him backwards, sliding across the rain spattered ground.




Posted by Non-ExistentOne

Strikezer, intend on continuing, or naught?