Wheel of Moderately Priced Goods - Hoh Stage: Ruined Studio - 1pm
Maximos' issue was one of doubt. He knew what he should do, but was hung up what he wanted to do. He vacillated which sure as any weapon could cost a man in a fight. Perhaps it was because his violence over the years since fading from the public eye had been been more - concise. Maximos was a killer, an assassin - though he held no such formal titles. In his business the focus was on ending a life not engaging. He carried with him an arsenal that allowed him as much versatility and adaptability in a pinch as possible. He had to be fast and efficiency, most things were silent and limited and meant to do a single job or allow a single opportunity. Fighting wasnt the sport it used to be, though it was still a sport he loved. And he wanted right now to indulge in it but...
...this wasn't right. After just moments of clashing his opponent had his upmost respect. For Gustave to bring to bare such skill, skills he had focused and honed for countless hours only for Maximos to then dance about him avoid using the skills he himself had trained and honed. It felt wrong. The Nameless Armory called to him. Each piece Maximos had spent hours or even years testing, learning, studying and failing at - every failure to eventually amount to a successful creation only to leave this creations to sit on the sidelines -
In his right eye he saw the form of the dragon waft around Gustave, poised as dragons were in their lairs. Such enchantments were usually placed in the skin or flesh and served to supernaturally support strength, or defense. This dragon was sleeping.
**♫**
-- No longer.
Even without doubt he had placed himself in a set up to strike and create an opening. He was going to do exactly that. His left hand rest on the cool metal of the heater as it moved up to protect Gustave's face. Maximos had just side stepped so his weight was mostly on his left foot. His right foot took up place a distance behind and diagonal to his left. Maximos right hand was still up around his face. As the knight before him changed his footing, Maximos balled his right hand into a fist and called forth the first member of the Armory to attend this fight. If Gustave could see, he would see a black framework rapidly trace itself around Maximos right arm. It would look as if someone had used a black marker and was doing a high speed sketch of something in thick black ink. The lines detailed what looked like fat bracers that connected to a cestus and supported his fist like a pair of brass knuckles. It covered the length from Maximos' elbow up past his wrist and over his knuckles but provided no protection to his fingers but covered the palm in thick black hide. Short metal spikes less than an inch in length protruded off of each knuckle. Without seeing he be able to hear a sound like dice rolling on glass as the drawing crystallized. The frame work was solidified by a pitch material that dulled into burnished dull black metal decorated with dozens of arcane scripts across it's surface like a tangle of plentiful vines with small letters in magical tongues ornately and painstaking etched into the metal. In particular six symbols, all matching, ran around the wrist and had a fierce indigo glow. The metal was thick and while it allowed enough room for Maximos' wrist to bend, the natural slope of his arm from the elbow to the wrist was almost invisible.
As soon as the gauntlet on Maximos' right was complete, an identical summoning began on his left arm. This pair of weapons were called Dementia Pugilistica, named after a form of brain damage caused by taking too many blows to the head. They were one of Maximos' two main answers to reinforced targets, the other being Whisper. How they did this, Maximos would demonstrate. Gustave was adjusting his footing, beginning to swing his mace and - Maximos would punch the shield square with his right fist. The effect of weapon was simple, Maximos would punch and immediately following the punch Dementia Pugilistica would discharge a concussive blast at the sight of the impact. Sort of like being hit a second time. The blast covers a 1ft sphere but is not delivered by the punch, but follows after it allowing the striking arm to return and prepare to strike again. Or ignites on contact if fired at range. Dementia Pugilistica or Dementia for short, had six charges of a technique known as the Shadow Cannon loaded into each glove for a total of twelve. It could expend a maximum of three charges with any attack, for each additional charge it expended the strength of the technique increased. When all charges were expended Dementia would need to recharge or reload. These charges were delivered either by means of a punch, or at range with a maximum range of ten feet. At one charge, the blast carried the force of a drop kick from an adult male. At two, it was a blast capable of sending a loaded dumpster backwards five or so feet and knocking even large opponents off their feet. And at three, it was able to shove a small sedan sideways about five feet. Maximos punched the shield. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoing out and then and immediately expended two charges. From the point of impact a vicious blast of indigo and blue bloomed into life, home to vibrant purples and blue splashed with black but quickly cooled to dull hues like bruised air before fading away like it had never been. But the blast made no real sound at all. His opponent had the shield up and so he was likely ready to endure some force, but Max imagined he wasnt ready for this amount of force. With the best of luck, the shield would hit him in the face, or he would be shoved off his balance.
Maybe this would interrupt the swing, but Maximos didnt imagine it would. If it did and there was no swing or a miss he would wait to see how Gustave reacted before pressing his advantage and possibly wasting resources. But he didnt expect much would stop Gustave from swinging, a good fighter commits. It's better a weapon taste air than taste hesitation and for that - Maximos also had a plan. He could have just stepped backwards out of the way if he had not been so caught up in doubt and hesitation earlier. But now he had to rely on other things. He wasnt just a man dressed in fancy clothes, he was an enchanter who ran a shop buying, trading, and most importantly creating magical goods. Nearly everything on his person was magical in some way. These were not just dress pants. These were woven of the finest Elpharian Arachnai Silk. A rare breed of spider who's nests were notoriously hard to be rid of because they seemed to reappear almost magically overnight if destroyed. As such their silk was a material famed for it's ability to self repair when either exposed to shadows or left in a dark place for an extended amount of place. This of course in turn meant that when Maximos' left thigh was struck - the material tore like absolutely ordinary silk would and Maximos was left with a rather sickly contusion. His leg gave out immediately, not because of pain - adrenaline would keep that from registering for another second or two - but because of force. As Maximos' weight had been on that leg, he was about to fall on that leg and would have had no real way directly in his control to avoid that and shift his weight to his right leg.
Except for recoil. Maximos could have braced himself against his own blast, the idea was to able to combination blows together - but he didnt. He let it throw his arm back, which shoved his upper body back so as he fell, he fell onto his right in such a way it looked as if he was sitting on his right foot with his left extended out in front of him and his pant leg torn open. He couldnt tell if he was bleeding. That was going to hurt, the extent of the effect it would have on his mobility had yet to be seen but - none of it showed on Maximos' face. The exact same smile from moments before never left or faltered. This was not because the attack was a failure and was solely because of training. Max trained himself not to express pain, this left his targets with the impression their bullets were ineffective or they had run him through and achieved nothing. He was still coming, still attacking. To the weak willed it made Maximos seem far more inhuman than he was. It caused fear and fear made people make mistakes. In this instance he was attempting to cause none of those effects on Gustave, this was nothing more than muscle memory and years of training.
But true to that training, Maximos didnt stop attacking. The moment his butt reached his right foot and he had any semblance of balance the second of Dementia Pugilistica's gloves finished forming on his left fist and he immediately swung a left hook expending a single charge from his left glove. The fist wasnt meant to hit anything, this shot would be fired at range sending a ball of black and blue about a foot around soaring through the air at Gustave's center of mass with the force of a drop kick behind it. Max didnt know how quick Gustave was with that shield or how strong he could be, the hope was that the first shot would put him off his balance or force him to brace himself so that if Maximos shot a second shot low it would be beneath the shield and able to strike the man himself. Either that, or he was about to get bull rushed.
That left only one detail. When Maximos first entered the stage his shadow was stretched out by the light of the door toward Gustave. Now that they had met and he had side stepped the man his shadow should have been extended out to his left or Gustave's right. If the other man had an eye to notice it - it wasnt. Instead his shadow was still stretched toward Gustave passing completely under the man as if cast by some invisible light source. It was doing nothing, not yet anyhow.
Max did not believe he would just over power his opponent. This weapon and his abilities were not now, and never had been made for that.
But he was going to bang on the door.
He was going to rouse the dragon.
-2/20-
show spoilerhide spoilerNameless Armory - | 3/5 Sword Summons Available
Dementia Pugilistica -| 2 Swords
Left Glove: 5 Charges
Right Glove: 4 Charges
Spooky Mittens Wrote:
