Brendyn vs Alan

Still rubbing the crust from his eyes, Officer Bhudasan glanced up at the bulletin board. It was quite some time after noon and the dark-skinned man was STILL in his pajamas and sandals. He hadn’t quite shaken off the events that took place the night prior. While more frustrating than usual, his latest patrol was guaranteed to make for some quality primetime television. Honestly, Dimitri’s a** would still be in bed if it weren’t for the glorified wristwatch on his arm bleep incessantly, telling him about some preliminary match that he had to go to.

Glancing up at the board, his eyes skimmed the list of names for anything remotely familiar to him. He recognized a few here and there, some were his teammates, some were perps he’d pulled over on the streets and others he was pretty sure that the admins just made up for the hell of it. Finally, he’d managed to locate his name as well as his opponent.

“Deitric Jocasta…” He let the name resonate for a bit. “Deitric Jocasta…” It seemed oddly familiar to him. Yeah, Bhudasan spent many a night at the sports bar checking out HoH tournaments from years prior, but this was different. Upon returning to his squad-car, the FIRST thing he did was run the name through the system. As expected, there was a match. “Sonuvabitch.”

The aviators went on. It was time to administer some justice, in his Officer Badge-print pajamas.

WHOOP-WHOOP!

Alan would turn his eyes to look at Brendyn, for that's obviously who he was, no one else would have mentioned his name. The youthful looking man at the height of 5'7'' wearing an odd looking kevlar breastplate with leg guards placed one of elbow, length gauntlet and bracer combination on a hip.

His steel eyes would narrow at the man who had tried to call him 'no name'. He took in as many details he could about the man in the short period before speaking.

"You should get out of your hole for more than just Heaven or Hell then." Alan said in retort. " 'Cause you're looking at him."

Queue dramatic music.

Alan didn't give the man an opportunity to respond verbally. Without another word out of him Alan would lash out his left arm out at the man in a brief horizontal swipe. (This assumes that Alan is standing to Brendyn's right.) the Katar Blade contraption, a 10 inch long, 2 inch wide at the base blade forward form the top of his bracer to extend the reach and give his clawed gauntlet's swipe a cutting edge to it.

The swipe had little effort into it, it was simply to stun the man into a ready stance, and perhaps get a quick n** at the man's shoulder as well. Alan himself had checked his footing as he did the strike, taking a half step away from the apparent assassin as he struck, which mean he was pulling away with the strike instead of pushing forward. This was simply to get himself into a better defensive stance for whatever this man, whom he had never encountered before, had planned as a rebuttal.

Alan too was frustrated, to get this tournament to start. He wasn't about to sit there bantering words with someone who was just another obstacle in his way. He preferred to let the combat do the talking.

Post 2, I'm fighting The Cape?

The move was familiar to Alan, being a short-blade user himself. But Alan diddn't have a fancy weighted cape. He had wings, for now, however, they remained hidden out of sight. There was no indication that he was anything but a small human.

But he knew his combat. Alan would shuffle back a step dipping his left solder and leg back and his left arm back into a ready guard position, Alan waited for the attack to come, to counter the cape coming his way Alan dipped his posture down and slightly back. So long as he could keep it from actually connecting with his face, he wasn't going to waste an outward block on it, such a feint was meant open up for a right side attack, but due to the way the cape was, Alan wouldn't have visibility to it until Brendyn committed to the attack. Fortunately, it was a weapon Alan was all too familiar with.

Punch blades were best for, well, punching, which were great, but they could be blocked just like punches if one had armored forearms, like Alan did. Alan would use the top of his wrist to parry the punch off to the left side of him. If Brendyn followed through it would provide an opening for Alan to use his own Katar edge to slash outwards at the inside of the Assassin's forearm, but he wouldn't expect a connection, and even if the striking bock did hit anything, it was only to test what armor this man wore on his arm besides the guard that perhaps his punch-blade provided.

In either case, Alan's mind quickly concluded that a further exchange in the positioning, at best, would result in a stalemate, and that cloak could really become bothersome, especially seeming he did not want to make use of his wings in this sort of camped space. So Alan decided to push himself back another step, giving him the visual angle to briefly scan the environment for something that could change up the pacing of the battle.

Looking at the nearby wall of the hallway, he spotted just what he wanted.

Oh this was going to get fun.

Post 3: Have a seat, why don'cha?

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

"Toss me one."

Alan looked at his opponent. Ok, so they had the same ideas as well as fighting styles. That's fine with him, Alan didn't care too much about the crowds entertainment than his own anyways, and playing around which chairs might seem a bit juvenile, but hey, the damn center looked like a high school anyways, might as well play the part, right?

Alan would grab the nearest chair with his right arm and set it's leg ends on the ground, pushing slightly down and forward with it as he bent his left wrist forward, pulling on the hidden switch inside that caused his Katar blade to retract back to it's ready position. The chair? It folded out into it's normal seat upon the smooth surface of the hallway floor.

"O-nine, Dark Tournament." Alan would cite the most notable and recent accomplishment he had on Gaian soil. He'd put his foot up to the back of the seat, the front facing the assassin, and shoved it with his right leg to slide it along the hall over to where he was.

"Champion." Alan concluded as he would watch to see the man stop it. Alan would reach and grasp at his own chair, next in line, deciding to grip upon the side of it, the top of the chair in his right, and grasping just before the extension of the legs with his left.

"Nice mask, by the way." Alan would comment on the strange, mouth like mask that was placed over his face. From the claw scar over the right side of Alan's face, three wide slices that looked like some beast had tried to tear the skin right off of him, Alan wasn't exactly vain. But he had to wonder if Brendyn hid some horrific scar of his own.

Of course, if he was going to answer, Brendyn would have to do it quick, or in mid combat, Alan was starting to make a steady walking approach back towards his foe now, the clock was ticking after all, and the few spectators that managed to peek their eyes through the hallway windows and main entrance doors didn't come here to witness a chat.

Post 4: Class(h)es in Caution.

Alan's pacing did not slow, even as Brendyn moved into a long dive with the chair at the forefront. Doing so at such a length projected himself, horribly. This made him suspicious. There had to be more to it.

Still, an opportunity was presented and Alan would bite at it, trap or no. As the dive came closer at him Alan moved his chair slightly to the right, then sharply left, stepping right and forward as he did so. His aim: to lock the legs of his chair into the horizontal crossbars of Brendyn's chair as he moved forward and sidestepped the charge. If successful, it would prevent the assassin from opening up his chair to change the orientation of the attack or pull it away for a spinning follow up.

But the lock up would only be temporary until Alan's curve could make his chair, still horizontal in positioning, as close to parallel to Brendyn's chair as possible continuing to pull Brendyn's momentum forward, but having him meet the top end of Alan's chair to the neck, and chin of Brendyn. It'd be a small, short jab, but it would be enough to break the temporary lock he made in defense of his opponent's dive.

There were methods of evasion to it Alan was aware of, but there was no real way he would know which one the assassin picked until it actually happened. The hows of which actually amused an intellectual fighter such as Alan. Like a dance to see how closely the other thought to his own tactics. Right now, both were being rather cautious, even if Brendyn's latest charge seemed outwardly reckless. It would be a wonder which of them would be willing to risk getting struck to trade a better blow.

Though it would have to be soon, the clock kept ticking. And 100 seconds meant for horribly short time to push something inventive.

Edit: Clarification.

Post 5: Mirror Mirror on the wall.

Alan would see Brendyn pull back just as Alan loosed his positioning, likely coming about for another strike, as made by the twist in his body. But Alan's momentum now was also pushed forward by his jarring position to check Brendyn in the face and neck. So instead of trying to fully fight the motion, he would decide to step forward again with his left, pivoting on it too hook around. As he did so his right hand slid around the hard edge and his chair went vertical, giving him the ability to grip the other side of his leg to gain strength leverage for his follow through swing.

But as he came around to strike at Brendyn's back, he would see the trajectory of his own chair on a collision course with Brendyn's own follow-up attack!

BANG!

Although their trajectories were much the same, they both hit each other in at part of their arc perfectly enough to bounce Alan's strike back, while likely deflecting Brendyn's. Alan would shoot a frustrated glare at the man, though a respectful one.

Now this was getting monotonous, they were too much alike and neither was getting headway on the other. Even the introduction of CHAIRS wasn't changing the way they fought.

thinking like me!" Alan would shout, half laughing. The volume was mainly to combat the loud ringing in his ears from the collision.

Alan's mind raced over their similarities a moment, then started to isolate their differences, which didn't take long. This time Alan's hands slide all the way to the head of the chair which he would set, legs first, upon the ground between them. Taking a sharp breath, he would then proceed to place his weight upon the chair in a brief push as Alan seemingly dive-kicked at the masked Assassin with his steel toed boots. Towards his chest. Oddly Alan's body did not seem to flow the way it should of, given his body proportion, however, given how brief his motion was, it wouldn't be apparent to the extent of how different it was until Alan was either interrupted, or forced to follow through with his momentum.

Post 6: Do a barrel Roll!

Alan saw the man suddenly leap up into the air and gain the height advantage, literally laying himself flat out in mid air to push down on Alan's chest.

The way it was positioned, Alan had almost no time to react at all. However, his reaction would be a rather peculiar one. The hands that were on Alan's chair let go, with his momentum still pushing forward without the support!

Winglung Wrote:

• The Avionic ability to create lighter-than air gasses inside the body to suspend his weight. Full blooded Avions can use this to gain flight, but as Alan's bone density is too high due to his half-blood heritage, Alan cannot sustain flight without magical support. It does, however, aid in acrobatics, physical speed and mid-air recoveries.

Alan's previous sharp intake of breath had been done to catalyst lightening his body load to almost feather-light properties, which caused a conflicting force in his body balance. While normally his chest area, with all the bones and organs, would have been where gravity primarily pulled upon his body in that movement Alan's unique Avion organ changed this. It gave him the brief moment of being able to suspend himself in the air, and with aid, redirect himself.

This, as well as how he had initially launched himself, his chair having propped him like a railing rather than a hurtle, would avail him in a flinch reaction. Alan twisted heavily clockwise, swinging his arms to grasp at the chair coming to push down at him along the chair's side and attempt to pull it down and to his right side It bore the possibly disrupting Brendyn's own movements as well, or at the very lest wrest the makeshift weapon from the Assassin's grip.

It was almost as if the two were preforming carnival acrobatics. Due to the severe close quarters of the exchange, however, even if he had won wresting his opponent's chair from him as well as redirect his movement Alan would have to continue to spin and prop his left knee out to prevent himself from falling face forward on the ground, his foot of the left slightly propped against the flooring. Alan's right leg was extended out behind him to give himself a balanced stance. There was no way a normal human would have been able to pull off such a reaction, but Alan spent his life with those who flew and did wild acrobatics as a part of their life, he was as natural partially suspended in the air, as he was with his feet on the ground.

Regardless of whether or not he won the weapon, Alan would charge back towards the Assassin. He wasn't about to give his guy time to either claim Alan's chair, which had fallen horizontally between them now laying on the ground and was immediately in front of Alan, or be prevented from reclaiming said chair if Brendyn managed to keep his own somehow.

[Note to Judges: As both players had misjudged each other's distance in advancement, it was agreed to delete posts and progress again from this point.]

To accomplish this end, Alan pushed forward with his crouched leg to lift off into the charge, intending to check Brendyn in the back with either the very chair he stole, gripping it much in the way he had his previous, with the hard edge to the left, and the chair legs to the right, or with the side of his gauntlets. In the same motion Alan would attempt to step on the chair laying on the ground, the one Alan abandoned in his motion. If he got the opportunity, he would kick it behind him to prevent Brendyn from grasping it.

Post 7: Have you ever heard of the term 'F(Ch)air fight?'

Alan did not have a established 'sense' of things that were Paranormal, but he was an enchanter in and of himself and he was accustomed to the presence of magic, and it's use, and while Alan could not see the glyph that the Assassin left behind, Alan would still not pursue the man beyond the initial check. The rune would still be between them, partially out of luck, and the other part was Alan wanted to keep a larger distances between himself and an opponent who was creating an energy ball.

The reason for it was that Alan had, even if falsely, had began to conceptualize this battle as less than a drawn out fight for blood, and more of a game. Alan had attempted to shove the Assassin away merely to retain possession of his original weapon, considering it a success having torn Brendyn from his. Once Alan felt and saw offensive magic being played into it, the Avion backed off. He had no intention of going that far into his arsenal for a mere preliminary, especially seeming the two of them had established previously that the fight was going to be devoid of lethal weaponry.

As if to indicate this disappointment, Alan stepped back, setting the chair on it's legs and unfolding it, with a 'Really?' expression on his face as he set one foot down on the chair to lean on it slightly. With one hand he'd gesture to the rack of chairs that should now be nearby to Brendyn. Then, kicking his captured one to the far side of the hall, Alan, still keeping an eye on Brendyn, would go to claim his original. If the Assassin chose to push the escalation of the combat further it would be under the knowledge that Alan still did not have the desire to, as it was a threshold Alan would not step back from a second time. The Assassin was first to sheath his Katar before, but it would be Alan to see if the man would keep to it. Magic, after all, was a weapon. Alan considered it just as lethal as any blade, and would respond lethally in turn. But for now, Brendyn would get a courtesy.

Post 8: Somebody break a scanner!

Brendyn went and stuck a wrench in his plans by putting a foot in his mouth.

Alan had no specal magical senses, any more than a person who was accustomed to temperate climates outdoors to get a feeling it was going to rain. Magic cast off a certain, aura, in the air when affecting the world externally. Alan, as an enchanter, was accustomed to such things, simply by being an accomplished spellcaster and living in a magical environment. However, the only magic Alan had seen had been canceled, reabsorbed. Whatever minor indication Alan had of magic in play would have simply been disregarded as lingering energy.

Until the Assassin opened his big mouth.

Brendyn Rogel Wrote:

"Just needed a moment to catch my breath. A feint, nothing more. Anyway, I believe you were in the middle of a charge? Carry on."

Alan was naive, but not stupid. Being fed a bullshit excuse as to one's intentions to use magic was not a good set up to try to lure someone into an awaiting trap, especially seeming Alan's charge was only intended to keep Brendyn away from the chair to begin with. Having misread Alan's intentions would have been one thing, misreading them to the point of desiring he resume such activity was a tell. Brendyn wanted Alan to charge blindly. Which meant there was still magic in play somewhere, likely between where the two were previously.

Alan inwardly both cursed and thanked his naivety, for while it left him vulnerable to such a trap, is insistence to playground rules kept him from moving forward to trigger it unwittingly. Instead, Brendyn took him for too gullible and revealed his intentions. But the question remained, was it an actual trap, or was the man just planning on using such a magic if Alan tried to close the distance?

Only one way to find out.

Alan would charge, but this time, not directly. Alan skirted the edge of the hall, working to get himself into a flank. Using both his light weight and the weight of the chair to turn sharply if Alan managed to get parallel with the Assassin. As he did, Alan's mind came into focus on an inner part of himself. One of the sources, the gifts his mother had given him in his birth ritual. This one, was a source of heat, the spark, and the ending of life. His pretense of a fair fight shattered, Alan focused upon the element of fire. While not detectable outwardly, he would have the element ready to invoke on a moment's notice, leaving how he would use it open to his options.

Brendyn had intended a surprise for Alan. The half-avion would be sure to return the favor.

Post 9: Crash and BURN!

Alan saw Brendyn move in to intercept him, making it so he would meet him part way. It wasn't to be unexpected, so Alan shifted the position of his chair slipping his left hand to the inner curve of the chair's back and wielding the chair much like a shield for his left side. The intention was to give him better leverage than the punch-chair idea that Brendyn had adapted, choking up higher on his own chair would allow him to parry the Assassin's chair punch and follow it up with a follow through of his own.

Instead, as Alan moved the chair to contact Brendyn's, stepping forward to his right foot intending for the follow through, the image infront of him exploded in a shower of light.

Alan would see a very blurry motion in his preferably vision only a moment as the true assassin turned to him to try to pin him to the wall. Reactively, Alan put force behind his makeshift shield's parry motion, swinging it to collide with the intended arm and shoulder slam into him. As he did, he twisted into his right front step, keeping the right part of his back free of the intended pin.

But there was no full escape from this completely unexpected move. Alan did not have much time to really think it over, but he would concluded that this illusion was the lingering magic he initially sensed. Regardless, Alan would attempt to use the chair shield to push back on Brendyn and redirect some of his momentum more towards the wall and give Alan some leverage. The Assassin would have to punch above the chair to swing at his face, and Brendyn's left arm would effectively be pinned to his body to push back on the chair.

However, the Assassin would have bigger problems to worry about.

As they collided, a burst of blue and black feathers escaped out of Alan's exposed part of his back.

Wings Wrote:

• Alan possesses a 14' wingspan of owl-style wings, colored blue on the outside and black on the inside. These wings allow for aid in Alan's gliding abilities, as well as giving him the ability to change his course mid-air (subject of course to laws of inertia.) They also serve as a conduit for Alan's Wing Recharge, and can function on the level as additional limbs. Due to the unique physiology of the Avion, these wings can contract and hide themselves into cavities in Alan's back.

Alan's wing, having being pulled out rapidly and suddenly, looked a little sunken and thinner needing of course a moment for blood and air to flow all the way through it, but the muscels functioned quickly, and Brendyn was suddenly forced to contend with a seven foot long limb arching from Alan's free right side. Accopanying with it, Alan would twist his body still further to his left, hooking with his right arm to let the Katar on his right gauntlet to come free. The Katar blade would strike low towards Brendyn's midsection, the wing would strike out high like a slapping motion towards Brendyn's face. The first would be easier to avoid or parry than the second, which had a far larger reach.

But the real trouble would be with what accompanied with the beat of the wing, or rather the wind it produced.

Phoenix Beat Wrote:

Alan's flaps his wings to push a gust of fire that emits past his body (without harming him.) Equates to minor fire breath attack. Anything within the path of the flames runs the risk of severe burns and/or catching fire.

A burst of flame billowed out from the wing over Brendyn's body, the seering flames brushing into the upper body hair and face. With only one wing supporting the spell itself, the gust was much smaller than it would have been had both of his shoulders being free. But as it was, Alan had to continue his momentum he had in his initial charge to push back and shove off of Brendyn. The magical nature of the flames themselves did provide Alan some initial resistance against being harmed by the fire as he launched it, but if any caught onto Brendyn and produces their own flames, it would be like being in close quarters to a man on fire, a sensation he was all too familiar with and cared not to repeat. As for Brendyn himself, Alan hoped the flash of heat and perhaps the seer of pain would back the Assassin off. If his clothing and armor wasn't flame resistant, however, it may catch fire. His hair however, was likely to be singed pretty badly, as fire tended to do that even in small gusts.

Still, the slight beeping on Alan's upper right arm from his FIGHTER would indicate he did not have much time to go. So if his previous actions did give an oppertunity to stun the Assassin and push him back some, freeing his left arm the Avion would ready a follow-up punch with his chair-arm towards the face and mask. If not, and Brendyn recovered or tried a counter, Alan would have that arm back at the ready to serve as a shield once more.

Post 10: Almost Fried Chicken Assassin.

Luck is a strange lady, and often she is credited for things that simply do not on a whole belong to her.

Such as in the clash as passed into memory. Again, Alan donned the makeshift 'shield' upon his left arm as he approached what he thought was Brendyn making an interception. Why his left side? Because the wall was simply to his right. Only an idiot would shield himself on the side against the wall, as the wall itself could be considered a form of cover. As far as Alan's so called 90 degree turn? This was the fault of Brendyn's illusion, which bore the chair in his right hand in a Katar fashion. Alan, who was still trying to flank said illusion, had stepped forward with his right with the intent of parrying aside the out reaching chair-katar from the inside of the strike and follow through with his right side front into the Illusion-Brendyn's guard, this momentum did not change when Brendyn himself showed up.

It wasn't luck or some uncanny ability as much as it was simply intelligent fighting. When your opponent approaches from the right, and is armed on the right, you typically shield your left side, especially if the right of you is a wall.

Although, for as many assumptions Brendyn was making about Alan, at least he came to the right conclusion: It wasn't a smart idea to stay in close range to Alan. But it wasn't a good idea to simply push and run away from Alan either. Brendyn would piratically be colliding through the remaining parts of his illusion, (A far more disorientating approach than what the author probably intended.) Though it would mean Brendyn was not in Alan's preferential vision but more in Alan's direct line of sight, as he was still in the intent to flank, even though he himself had been instead.

Alan would find himself slammed briefly against the wall, likely lifting somewhat off the air as Brendyn did it, considering how it was done. The feeling of his back slamming into, and partially breaking the drywall was not a pleasant one at the least. But Alan was actually more surprised that he did not find himself instead with a katar or chair in his back, which would have been far more effective of a use of such a profound ability.

However, in backing away from the man, he had freed Alan's left side, where as committing to holding him would have kept it pinned. This meant two things, one, that striking with his Katar blade was pointless, as the man dived away, and instead of one, both wings would emerge.

As a note although Brendyn could see Alan's magical Aura, he would have absolutely no idea what would happen, or from where or why, simply because of the way Alan focused his magic.

Combat Enchantment Wrote:

Preparation: Takes 1 turn to charge prepare a focus. During this time Alan must choose either an element or a focus to use. Alan, however, does not need to finalize the second of the combination until use.

Put in short. Alan put forth no detectable orientation of a magical aura until the flames would already be spewing from his wings. All the Assassin would have seen, was Alan was coursing with the element of fire.

Although, opening a giant set of wings could be one indication as to something big happening.

With both wings capable of stretching out in a 14 ft total span, it would be interesting to see just how MUCH of the flames the Assassin would be able to dodge, even backing up as he did, especially if the recovering Avion would decide to move to give himself a better angle... by say lunging ever so slightly towards the middle of the seven-foot-wide hallway (Note-the full reach of one of Alan's wings) and effectively cornering the assassin. If Alan played a wider beat with his wings, it would not have really mattered what direction the Assassin would have dove to dodge.

Code: Beep-beep-beep-beep.

Unfortunately, however, that particular scenario would have to remain hypothetical. The last seconds of the combat were waning . As Brendyn's grand finale of of an attack amounted to utilizing a very nasty illusion/invisibility trick to merely check Alan into a wall and then flee for fear of something he could not foretell, Alan would spare him the demonstration of just how much he had been holding back under the false pretense of a fair fight.

Instead, Alan would keep the wings at the ready in case Brendyn tried something stupid in the last few seconds, and dug into his pants pocket with his right hand, pulling out his smart-phone. Deftly, he'd pull out a text menu for a recently added contact and begin typing one handed, as all the cool kids with modern toys do.

Code: Fight done. Wanna meet at *bux?

Obviously his mind was already on something else he had planned for the day.