[Round 2] Xerowingz vs. Yummybiscuits

Description: Each fighter will receive an unmarked package delivered to them either through standard postage or through courier late in the evening. Inside is a standard GPS device with a location preloaded. Those savvy with the local area will notice the indication located is a seedy part of Barton town. Known for it's projects, slums, and red light districts. Common establishments include brothels, clubs, greasy diners, tiny apartments, and pawn shops.

It'll be night time before anyone will be able to reach the indicated location. It appears awfully run down, with decaying buildings covered with graffiti and trash laying about. The complete lack of official personal or equipment might make one wonder if this was a set up, at least until their opponent arrives. A few low lifes linger around, with mixed reactions as the fights commence. Some will drunkenly cheer random fighters on, while others might threaten to call the cops. More still will opt to just ignore whats going on, as if it was just another day in the life. If one is observant, they might notice a particular silvery haired girl sitting near the entrance to a nightclub with a friend, both of whom seem to be paying close attention.

Sure hope you all can recognize each other!

Field Measurements: Roughly 40 foot square paved lot. This does overflow to some degree

Ten Count Boundary: Stepping into the street or any of the adjacent businesses will start the ten count. This, however, may be worth it due to the items listed below.

Bonus: Due to not being properly cleared before the matches, there are all sorts of impromptu items littering around. 2x4s with nails, broken bottles and shards of glass, lengths of metal piping all are options for the opportunist fighter. Who knows what else the nearby dumpster might hold. On top of that, an enterprising fighter might opt to risk the 10 count to grab a weapon from one of the nearby businesses. Chairs, pool cues, and even knives are options from the various places nearby...if they can get in and out again in time.

There was a soft humming sound from the opposite side of the alley way. it was soon followed by the sound of soft leather against the uneven, and definitely in need of some work, pavement. Around that same corner from where the sound flowed from, came a man. Or, at least what appeared to be a man. In this tournament, one could never be sure of species from a single glance.

Marx walked forwards, holding the GPS device before his face. He had to admit, this thing was awesome. Never the type from modern technology, it had always been spells that the Djinn would use to get places,or find his way. But this thing talked back! How cool?! *" Arrived at Destination. "* Came the computerized and filtered voice issuing from the small GPS. Marx gave a little jump, the voice surprising him only for the what, sixth or seventh time now?

Marx took the chance to throw the thing over his shoulder. It had lost it's usefulness with his arrival, and he had a feeling trying to figure it out would be a waste of time. Now, this was interesting. It had to be some practical joke. Why the hell would the next fight be scheduled to happen here? Hell, sure things went south at the GTB stadium, but here of all places? Someone was pulling his leg. Marx felt his eyes narrow in irritation, and scanned over the " arena " again. The first time across, the guy in the black sweatshirt had blended into the graffiti-covered wall. Second time, a bit of movement caught Marx's eye.

" I suppose that you are either the purveyor of this joke, or this is the real deal, and you're the person I'm meant to fight next. " Marx dropped his left hand, and it fell upon the familiar ivory and leather grip of his sword. With the sound of metal on metal, the sword was pulled out and brandished before Marx. " Either way, I suggest you get on guard. " Marx began feeling through the air, spreading his awareness of the prana from within the confines of his body. To say the least, this place was filled to the brim with the stuff. The sadness, depravity, loss of life throughout the general area... it all built up to gather the positive prana energy to help maintain whatever semblance of a balance positive and negative energies needed in order to coexist. Marx pulled a small amount of this prana, coating the air like a thick blanket, towards the edge of is blade. It wasn't invisible by any means, and it began forming a green wreath over the entire black blade.

Marx was prepared to either begin a fight against some joker, or take out his next opponent.

Xerowingz Wrote:

Marx raised an eyebrow in light confusion. Sir? Now, that was weird. Marx couldn't help but tighten the grip on his blade. He had mentioned the tournament, but something about this was just... To fishy. It wasn't kosher. The laser point being pulled away from the back of his head went unnoticed, and Marx turned around when the " real " competitor appeared.

" It's much better to face a trap oneself instead of having a subordinate take a bullet for you. Hmph. " Marx let out a soft soft, squeezed from in between his clenched teeth. As far as he could tell, this guy was some sort of coward, possibly worse. Nevertheless, if this was to be the person he was to fight, it would happen that way.

Marx shifted the grip on his blade, letting his eyes narrow further when his opponent let out some sort of aura. It was opaque, and Marx made note of the color. It could clue him into something later. Marx pulled the blade so that the back pressed against his right thigh. He slashed, making sure to pulse the prana that coated his blade. It would separate from his blade, flying towards his Opponent.

( Roll is good. )

show spoilerhide spoilerMagic Energy Use: Marx, for all of his spells, uses the ancient energy known as Prana. When Djinn do not possess a physical form, their bodies are made of this magical energy, which when visible, is a wispy rainbow of color. It has little to no mass, but is extremely volatile in its raw form, requiring it to be bound to use, or refined in the use of a spell. Marx is known for having light green prana, and for that reason, most of his spells will shine with a green light. If he were to be bound to an item, his form at that point would become made of this green energy, changing his entire spectrum f color to a green, wispy energy. As a Djinn, Marx has a high degree of control over his prana, as well as prana present in the environment. This allows him to use high caliber spells without much drain on his body. At the same time however, this prana is always limited. He requires rest after a fight, like most others, as he can't sap the energy from the environment in order to fuel himself. He can only use prana from the environment for quick spells, as a buffer to his own energy sources.

While is is dangerous, Marx can collect small to large amounts of prana, and fire off the unrefined energy in the form of energy blasts. They are extremely explosive, so if Marx is interrupted while using this form of attack, it could possibly explode in his face. ( 25% chance of spell recoil. Increases by 10% for each charge. )

The prana would shape itself into a spinning baton of light. However, it wasn't aimed right for his opponent. It would be hard to judge at first for the spinning, but the spinning baton would impact to Damon's right. The moment it touched the pavement, it would detonate in an explosion that could overtake the psion, and send a large amount of dusty, debris filled smoke into the air.

Marx had begun moving when the prana had separated from his blade. Distraction tactics, use the smoke to come from an unexpected, and most likely unguarded angle. His legs pumped, angling his body to his right, so that he would come upon Damon's left. Since the explosion had come fromDamon's right, this pincer type move could be unprecedented.

Marx disengaged from the smoke with a small jump, arcing through the air and towards Damon. His blade flashed like silver, a strike. From Marx's left hand, a strike that was aimed to strike across the closest leg, and cut deep at that.

Marx was the kind of fighter to break down an opponent, weaken them to the point of being able to be felled easily. The last fight he was only able to partially do that, with slicing the man up a bit before actually defeating him. This round would be different.

Xerowingz Wrote:

That was unexpected. When he came through the dust and smoke, Marx had just enough time to watch a wave of junk fly towards him. What was this kid? The quick thinker said psychic powers, or something of the sort were at play here. The items were to varied and to complex to have a simple elemental control, and no one Marx knew had enough powerover the wind to fling that much junk with no small wait.

The Djinn had just enough time to land, and instead of striking as he had planned, use the momentum from his jump to roll forwards. His eyes had caught that the majority of the crap was aimed for his upper body, possibly to disorient and make it more difficult for the fighter to be at his top. This roll took the effectiveness out of the attack, and only a few, heavier piece of junk rubbed against Marx's moving body.

He moved swiftly from the roll, standing, and flinging himself forwards in a half-jump. There wasn't much space between them, and the roll had brought them closer. This jump would close the distance again, and let Marx get close enough to strike. He'd have to be careful though, and play in the hopes of moving quickly enough to evade any psychic blasts, or whatever this kid could pump out.

The transition was smooth, and Marx moved into another attack. This time, his half jump brough him within range of striking his opponent's belly. He could gut the kid. Marx knew better than to kill though. In turn, his strike was aimed to cut through the muscle of his opponent's abdomen. The curved edge of the blade, bending like an Indian scimitar. Would make sure this wasn't fatal beyond the threat of blood loss.

Marx wasn't the fool to let himself get caught up in a rush attack. When his feet planted, and his strike was thrown, his feet would twist. Namely, his left foot shot around behind the right leg, swiftly turning him and bring Marx along to twirl towards his own right. Ay psychic blasts could, and possibly would, be evaded through those means.

Xerowingz Wrote:

Good move psion, good move.

Marx gave a grunt of irritation when the sword swipe was dodged. He was almost positive he had been quick enough to get him, and get him good. Damn.marx felt his wrist locked in place.

But, Marx was still moving with the beginning actions of a dodge. He knew stoping now would mean a punch to his open side, possibly a knife in his ribs at that. Enough people had died already to worry the Djinn.

Marx was not able to twirl completely, due to the hold on his wrist. Instead, it ended up being a turn, just enough to twist out of the way of an incoming punch. There was some weird transfer of force, centered on Damon's fist. Marx felt it, rather than seeing it; as a hard wind flying beside his body, close enough to feel the force behind it. That really could have been bad for the poor, poor Djinn. Ribs were hard to heal.

Nevertheless, Marx used the lapse in action, when he had turned, to begin moving again. His twirl had left his right side pointing towards Damon, and his left arm was straight across his chest, still being held as far as he could tell. Marx tugged, using that force to put most of his weight towards his left leg, which was away from Damon. If Marx had his way, the boy would be pulled towards him, only slightly, and Marx lifted his right leg with the shifting of his weight. It was pret much like hitting a baseball at this point; easy. Marx's foot rose, and aimed a solid, hard hitting kick right for Damon's knee.

Technically, right above the knee, but hell man, it would break nonetheless. By striking above the knee, the weakness of the tendons lining the cap could be exposed, allowing a quick and clan break, instead of having to force it by pressing against the joint itself. There would be less pain, but it was much more effective. If it actually hit that is.

If Marx's blow had landed, he used the solid footing of Damon's now broken knee to push off, in the hopes of wrenching the grip from his wrist completely, and free the swordsman.

Xerowingz Wrote:

So, the plan didn't work. But you couldn't call someone a swordsman if one wasn't inventive on the spot. Look for brief weaknesses, and all that jazz. Exploit them just as quickly.

Marx only had to wait. No more than a second at that. When Damon shifted his left foot in order to turn, and bring Marx's arm away from it's near hyper extension, he could act. And the Djinn did so fluidly, with the speed that his race was known for. The strength, at that, too.

Marx's weight then was set well. With his weight on the leg tleg, he pushed forwards in the moment that Damon would move, and give a hard shove. He didn't have time to get his other arm into the fray, so it was more of a shoulder check.

Marx pushed his shoulder forwards, when his own arm moved with Damon. He was in control of his own body, and some hold on the wrist wouldn't undo the strength the swordsman had available. This would unsettle Damon's movement, and probably send the psion stumbling away.

Marx pulled, and pulled damn hard, on his arm. It was an attempt to wrench his arm free, using his advantage in strength and positioning. It would be difficult to resist the tug. And with the tug, since Marx's sword was still held in his hand, a nice, neat line could be cut along Damon's forearm.

Marx moved quickly after having wrenched his arm free, assuming he had done so. He pushed off with his right foot now, jabbing his sword out in a straight line. It was aimed well, just above the boy's right pectoral. There wasn't anything serious there, but the pain and bloodless could do quite a bit to a fighter, especially against a Djinn swordsman.

(( This isn't a dispute, but a statement that I didn't ignore the knee attack. I didn't believe it was relevant to mention because the motion I had made beforehand would have placed Damon out of the way. Anyways. ))

Quote: Wrote:

> Marx moved quickly after having wrenched his arm free, assuming he had done so. He pushed off with his right foot now, jabbing his sword out in a straight line. It was aimed well, just above the boy's right pectoral. There wasn't anything serious there, but the pain and bloodless could do quite a bit to a fighter, especially against a Djinn swordsman.

Yummybiscuits Wrote:

Yummybiscuits Wrote:

((Excuse the quality of my post here. I didn't have much to say.))

Yummybiscuits Wrote:

Yummybiscuits Wrote:

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