Just so you guys know, most of the ARPEE FITEN I've done or judged/moderated was freeform. No rolls, just writing. I'll post a sample here. My words are green, the partner's is blue.
And yes, someday I might make a Battle Arena or something like that and recruit judges and fighters. You lot are creative enough to make things fun.
Rhoslyn stood in the Pit, actually, just sort of looking like he was waiting for someone to jump in and come after him. Well, actually, rather as though he were waiting for a specific someone to do exactly that. For a change, he actually was wearing what looked like a long-sleeved red silk shirt (although it looked rather as though it were armored, which it was), and a pair of black EMT pants that looked full to the brim with... stuff.
Oh, and the weapons, of course. It wasn't violence without them - the usual fuckton of knives, guns, etc.
The specific person arrived fairly quickly.
Damon dropped down into the opposite side of the pit across from Rhos, not saying a word, but keeping an expression on his face that state pretty clearly 'fighting time.' He hadn't fought the owner of the BSB in quite some time, it'd be a good to practice on an opponent with some teeth.
And an arsenal of fuck you.
As usual, a black scarf remained on Damon's head and around his neck and underneath his shirt he wore padded armor. Both his forearms had gauntlets with built in knuckle-dusters and on his shins he had gauntlets, though they were concealed by his pants-legs. Unlike Rhos, Damon came to the fight seemingly unarmed
He didn't need weapons. He WAS the weapon, the entire world his arsenal.
Focusing on unlocking the inner machinations of his mind, Damon began to move forwards, slowly, one step at a time. Because standing there and staring was stupid.
Well, that was good. Rhoslyn grinned at Damon, then raised his hands together, fingers spread out. A small globe of water began to expand as Rhoslyn sunk power into it, the water becoming zig-zagged with jagged red lines through it. It was almost a tradition for the first blows to be missed entirely by both parties, but that certainly wouldn't stop anyone from preparing a badass attack to start out with, now would it?
Damon figured he'd fire the opening shot in this battle, what with not being slowed down by having to charge his psionic abilities. Using an upward motion of his right hand he guided a solid pillar of hard packed sand upwards at Rhos from a slanted angle, attempting to slam him in the stomach right at the start of the fight.
A quick, simple attack that was signature of a psychic fighter.
Moments after his attack a small jolt of 'recoil' hit Damon behind his right eye and traveled down into his lower jaw, dissipating quickly. The importance difference between using magic and using psionics is the lack of a charge, but the intense presence of a 'knockback' afterwards. Nothing significant now, though.
Hopefully Rhos would respond in kind to the attack. Keep things interesting and all.
Rhoslyn grinned as the sandpillar broke through the surface of the earth, and thrust the ball (obviously charged with a spell) towards Damon, which zoomed off with the speed anyone could hurl a good-sized water balloon at someone. Almost as soon as he was finished, the fey spun on the balls of his right feet towards his left, bringing his hands back up to put up his dukes as the attack brushed the edge of his shirt with a thunk.
If the ball of water hit, it'd splash, causing the blood underneath where it contacted to quickly boil and "steam" out, although it wouldn't go much deeper than whatever veins one could see through their skin. Still, it'd hurt, and that was entirely the point of the mixed-ability spell.
"Ha!"
Following tradition, Damon delivered a right mid-high roundhouse kick to the flying water ball as it near him, splashing harmlessly against his armored shins and managing to only soak his pants leg. A few red crackling arcs of magic danced off his leg before the entire thing went poof.
Planting his foot back on the ground and eying Rhos with a grin, Damon sprinted off towards the fey. Not one of those shuffle step runs that focused entirely on balance and control, but the kind that was all about getting up in your opponents grill as fast as possible.
Assuming he managed to get within 6 feet of Ross, Damon would once again call on his powers, taking a big right step forward and psionically launching himself at his opponent, opposite leg coming straight up and poised to deliver a painful BOOT TO THE FACE. Nothing like being direct and tactless for once, even if it ended up costing him.
Thankfully, Damon hadn't lost all his battle senses. He had a contingency plan in place just in case shit really went down.
Good, good, now it was time to get the violence on. He did the same pivoting thing to have his left side leading, watching Damon charge in. Really, given the size of the arena, it wouldn't take him long to get there, so he'd simply take a breath and slide a bit forward to deliver a jab to the upper body to counter the charge - and then, suddenly, Damon took the hell off the ground and came at him.
Well, fuck that noise! Regardless of if his first move hit or not, he'd twist and throw his right out, aimed to smash directly through Damon's left pectoral as his left hand returned - the two would pass each other halfway through. Naturally, it wouldn't do anywhere near that damage, but this was said to indicate that he was not pulling his punches, at all.
Given the relative distance and angles and such, the kick didn't get him in the face, but instead hit him in the center of the ribs and continued up to love-tap his jaw, which'd send him staggering backwards and taking a few deep, fast breaths in the process to get his breath back.
Things hadn't gone entirely as planned, but they weren't far off from what had been expected. Damon knew that trying to be this direct usually ended up in the other guy trying to get in as many hits as possible before he got overtaken. Which meant they weren't focusing on the place they were being so quickly put into. Not place as in circumstance, but place as in actual positioning.
Rhos was literally between a rock and a hard place now, back likely right up next to the pit wall.
Unfortunately, Damon forgot what it was he had planned to do now. What a terrible time to have a brainfart! It happened though, he was only human afterall. So instead of trying to make up a plan on the fly, Damon just attacked the way he felt at the time. Once his left foot hit the ground, Damon sent a roundhouse kick up at the side of Rhos head again.
He was going to try his DAMNDEST to score another hit.
Right about the time he kicked the punch that Rhos had landed into his bicep began to throb with pain. His impact vest had absorbed a great deal of the damage that had been done, that's what it did, but being a superhuman, Rhos could get around small things such as high-quality body-armor. Just one of the things that Damon had to learn to deal with when fighting against powerful meta-human opponents.
Rhoslyn was not aware of Damon's last name even faintly resembling Norris. So, when he bounced off the wall, he was rather surprised to see Damon setting up for a roundhouse. As he came down, his hands came back up, and he'd reach out to try to grab Damon's kick by above the ankle with his left hand. If it worked, he would put the squeeze on Damon's leg, then, in an attempt to throw Damon around like a ragdoll, would spin, bringing his right arm up to grab onto his leg, and then proceed to introduce Damon into the wall before swinging the other way to lob him away.
Assuming not, he'd just try to grip anyway, and begin to spin - the difference was that he would instead raise his right hand, white flames dancing from his fingertips to give Damon a nice two-three second facial barbecue and start readjusting to get himself away from the wall.
Rhos managed to grab onto the roundhouse kick, gripping tightly onto the steel greave. Stopping a roundhouse mid-flight is extremely difficult unless you are just one bad dude - the reason Rhos here was because he was the exception to the rule. That made things complicated, but not too much so.
In a situation like this, the typical fighter usually tries to resort to some kind of logic and reason to escape quickly and somehow dish out an attack at the same time. Damon happened to be as far from 'typical' as possible without having to give up the woo-woo powers. Rather than go the practical route and use his powers for an offensive counter as he was being swung, Damon simply... took off.
No, really.
He shot up into the air via psychokinesis, taking Rhos along for the ride by the seat of his pants. The ocean breeze blew around both of the fighters as they rapidly ascended above the pit. But what do you do about somebody that's the equivalent of a poop that won't let go? Why, you shake it loose! And by 'shake it loose' Damon performed an aerial backflip, aiming to sling Rhos around and slam him into the edge of the pit back first.
The whole problem could be solved quickly if he let go, or complicated if he grabbed on with both hands and tried to use his magic. In retrospect, Damon had never actually done anything silly like this before. Here's to hoping that it worked out!
Rhos might shit brix.
Well, this was certainly unexpected. Rhoslyn couldn't help but admire the off-the-wallness of the attack even as he calculated just what in the hell to do, a grin stretching across his face. The ocean looked pretty... and then Damon tried to backflip. There wasn't a whole lot Rhoslyn could do aside from curling his lower legs, throwing himself "forward" and preparing for a rough landing.
Somehow or another, he managed to land his left foot on the ground just outside the pit; he wasn't half as lucky with his right, and felt muscles straining as the front part of his foot caught the wood lip, leaving the back half of his foot off into the edge.
At the same time, he'd bring his arms up and over his head, attempting to throw Damon clear over his own head into the nearby tables and chairs. By about the time his arms would reach his shoulder level, he'd be off-balance, and would let go to fall backwards into the pit, landing with a considerably heavy smacking sound and laying there, stunned briefly by the depth of the fall.
Throwing Damon, the guy that can fly and all, seemed like it might end up being a pointless effort. The key factor here was balance, which when being thrown by a guy with fuck all strength, is completely lost. And so Damon was left whirling through the air like a ragdoll and crashing into the tables and chairs, splintering one and knocking the table over onto its side.
"Ouch..."
There were going to be some bruises in some places the next morning, but nothing some sleep couldn't fix right up. Dusting himself off and getting to his feet in a timely manner, Damon glanced around at the mess he'd caused. Now how could he make this mess work for him? Rhos was already down in the pit getting his second wind, which may result in more magic explosions, so the psion had to think quickly.
Looking out at the ocean, Damon saw a few big waves roll in and crash into the shore. And suddenly the idea came to him!
Inside the pit, Rhos, who was likely still getting his shit together entirely, would probably be thrown for a loop as a white blur came shooting down into the pit. A bird? A plane? No, a guy air surfing on a white fucking beach table. They fey would be greeted with a yell of "YIPPE KI YAY MOTHERFUCKER!" right before Damon surfed the table into him.
Of course, Damon didn't plan on jumping off the table and letting it glide into Rhos, hell no, he was gonna ride this wave all the way home. One could only wonder what was going through Damon's mind, what with all the crazy, off the wall moves he was pulling. Had something gotten into him lately? Normally he was a stoic tactician on the battlefield, but not this time.
Who the hell knew.
That was exactly what Rhoslyn was doing- getting his shit together. He'd gotten to his feet and had backed away within about five seconds of hitting the ground, limping just a bit in his right leg. He was looking up and did expect Damon to come at him, but he certainly did not expect to see Damon flying a motherfucking table down at him.
The look on his face strongly resembled this: O.o
A second later, he lowered himself down, letting Damon come closer, and pushed off the ground into a sprint, wincing slightly as his right leg came down and took the impact of his weight. He'd keep his eye on Damon's hips, and would basically try to spear tackle Damon off of the board. There were so many possible ways it could go wrong, so the damage could be figured out next post.
"What tha--UMPF!"
Ross's spear made contact, but in a most awkward fashion. The table that Damon had been riding on propped him up a good several feet, and even with him angling it down, Ross's upper body still barely reached Damon's knees. This meant that when the fey launched himself into the spear, he'd actually be end up tackling Damon's legs out from under him while the table hit him (Ross) in the thighs and kept right on going due to the momentum.
These colliding forces all ended up in the most interesting of clusterfucks. Damon went falling forwards over Ross, while Ross himself was struck in the tights by the table, likely faceplanting hard onto it as Damon went over top of him.
The end result?
Damon laying face first in the dirt with Ross collapsed on top of a table, which likely turned over or splintered by this point.
Pain ran all up through Damon's lower jaw and his hands, where he'd had to brace himself against his falling forwards. Never the one to give up because of little bumps and bruises, the psion pushed himself forwards and rose up to his feet in a slight walk, wheeling around to see what had become of Ross.
"That was a lot less awesome than I had... awh... planned it to be."
Taking in a breath and brushing himself off some more, he spoke, a grin appearing on his face.
"And for my next trick, a double-lateral somersault flip twist tornado kick, hold the pickles but with plenty of mayonnaise and phlebotinum."
A lot of stuff happened. Ross's head felt rather as though he'd broken the table in half, with his nose being the general focus of it. With a groan, Rhoslyn rolled off the board, ignoring the complaints in his legs and across his chest. Well, mostly, but still, despite the grimace, he'd be able to carry on. Painfully.
With a deft motion, he snapped his broken nose back to its position and took a second to heal it, grinning at Damon's remark. Blood was still flowing, though; his nose just wasn't broken anymore.
"Hah!"
His face lit up, though he still didn't seem very thrilled to be hurting a lot overall and a little to a good bit practically everywhere. Mmh, tasted like blood.
"C'mon, Rhos, I expect a lot more from a Heaven or Hell runner up!"
Damon figured he'd verbally prod the fey a bit, try to light a fire under his ass and really get the fight going. It'd been a while since he faced an opponent that could actually hurt him in duel with powers and fists.
Taking a few strides forward, Damon gathered his energy and went airborne again. After climbing around ten feet up, fully extended his right leg and dropped into a rapid descent, aiming to slam his foot right into Rhos as hard as possible.
HELL YEAH FLYING KICK!
He'd managed to crush Kain's sternum with a move like this a few Heaven or Hell's ago, here's to hoping he could get the same kind of results, or at least put Rhos on the defensive again. It was a lot better to keep him pushed back into a corner than let him get some steam and start turning out those magical attacks of his.
"Wait and see."
There was a difference between the sheer brute "fuck the other guy up no matter what" approach he took competitively than in a casual bout. But, still, Damon had a point, and as his friend got closer and higher, Rhoslyn extended his left hand and drew back his right, palms flat.
The leg extension was a cue, and as Damon throttled down, Rhoslyn pushed his right hand out hard and fast towards him, rather the same motion as if he were in a pool and trying to splash Damon with a POWERSTRIKE of water. Which was exactly what he was doing. About as soon as his right hand started moving, water began to extend out quickly, reaching about four feet across by the time the flat of his hand struk the back of his left hand's palm.
The sound it made sounded exactly like a wave breaking, and a sudden 6' tall wall of water flew straight towards Damon, expanding to about five feet wide as it moved, curling. It was coming hard and fast, and while the water probably wouldn't hurt, the fact that it was a lot of fucking water moving very fast would carry him backwards a few feet and then slam him to the ground that'd do the trick.
TIIIIDAAL WAAAVE!
Pretty much was the last thing that went through Damon's mind as the divebombed directly into the incoming wall of water. For the most part, Damon's narrowed position (flying kick) allowed him to missile through the brunt of the water, but inevitably he ended up getting tossed and turned around like a piece of loose cloth in a washing machine.
Blub blub blub, Damon's in the tub~
CRASH!
As the wave of water hit the other side of the pit, Damon's entire body went slamming directly into it face first. The wave had turned him head over heels and sent him careening upside down. Now in comical fashion, he slid down the wall of the pit onto his head and fell to his back. A good few moments passed before he groaned and spit out some water, getting to his feet as quickly as possible. Everything hurt, he joined Rhos in PAIN.
He glanced down at his sopping wet clothes, torn in some places and the foot deep water that now 'flooded' the pit.
"Well now, this is why I can't have nice things."
Rhoslyn watched the water slowly drain, amused. Well, use it while you have it, what? He suddenly popped to the surface of the water, more or less pulling a Jesus. Sure, it was only a foot, but every bit helped. And, more importantly... Rhoslyn would actually not do a whole lot, simply twirling his fingers in a circle around him, pointing to the water. He always felt less drained casting in a circle, and he had the advantage of the flood right now.
"Well, you did say to bring it."
He chuckled.
"Well, I guess I did."
Casual violence and enough supernatural to bring down a building was generally how two of the islands strongest warriors greeted each other after a long time apart. Damon had been having a lot of fun so far, but now he wanted to step it up a bit, show Rhos a few new tricks he'd learned while out traveling around.
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Tearing off his soaked shirt and throwing his under armor aside, Damon basked in the cool air as it wafted down into the slightly flooded pit. Catching a second wind, he quickly charged for Rhos again. He focused his psychic powers into a shell around him, making him look like he were surrounded by glimmering glassy ripple-effect. The water beneath his feet parted, leaving only the moist hard packed sand ground.
A few feet short of actually reaching Rhos, Damon threw his arms forward and sent out a massive concussive psionic wave. It came with a big wind-up, which meant a mighty impact if it connected. Damon could move five hundred pound objects, Rhos mass was essentially nothing to him. Trying to throw an attack directly into his own would likely result in Rhos being double-whammied. Of course, smart as he was, Damon did not expect that to happen, though.
He was going to play a different angle.
Enough with the silliness, time to show off some real power for a bit!
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Topic: Adventuring Party OOC Thread - Adventures in Hiatus (Read 273326 times)