Fairy Tail RP

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    King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1447
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 21st January 2019, 1:38 am

    Job Details:




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Now this was the life.

    How long had it been since Serilda had been to a beach, she wondered? She was pretty sure the last time was when Hugo was still alive. The warm sand felt as wonderful on her feet as she remembered, as did the icy cold of the salt water. She was dressed in a blue bikini with a short white sash around her hips and a sheer white shawl around her arms, light blue guild emblem on her left thigh visible for the world to see. Her hair was pulled back into its usual bun, if a bit more casual and low than normal to make room for the wide brimmed sun hat on her head. Even at a beach in a skimpy bikini, she somehow managed to look classy. She’d even spritzed on a bit of light perfume.

    They had come to Sphere Island to fulfill a job request, but the distance didn’t exactly make it a day trip. For once it had actually been Serilda that had received a mission request that she’d invited Mythal along for. The client had explained there was a tournament coming up and he wanted to increase his odds of winning by entering a contestant that was an unknown. He had heard enough about her from her deeds with Sabertooth that he thought she would be a reliable entrant, and had told her she could bring a partner if she wished as teams of up to two were allowed in the tournament. Fighting for gambling money was hardly Serilda’s thing, of course; she detested gambling. But, it had been addressed to her personally and she wouldn’t besmirch Sabertooth’s reputation by turning it down.

    So, she’d asked Mythal to come along and suggested they just make a weekend out of it because of how far removed from the main continent the island was. They got there a couple days early, making sure they were properly signed up and taking time to meet with the client. He explained a bit more about the tournament, including the fact that not even all the contestants were human -- some would be large and powerful creatures. Serilda had thought originally that she would need to hold back some of her magic for this, but the more the client explained about the games the more she realized magic would probably be necessary to win it.

    Once that was done they had a few hours to kill before the fight, so she’d suggested taking the wolves to the beach and letting them play in the water. Xiuhcoatle had been to lakes before and loved it, but had never been to a beach. It wasn’t long before she was digging energetically in the sand, playing with Gren, and splashing through the salt water in search of fish and other aquatic life. Since the beach had no restrictions about alcohol -- and in fact, since they had a quaint little thatched roof kiosk near the main entrance that even sold drinks -- Serilda had ordered herself a martini that she savored casually as they walked.

    “Gods, I can’t remember the last time I was at a beach,” she confessed to Mythal. There was a small but peaceful smile on her face that had replaced the constant and subtle look of worry that had been in her eyes ever since her run in with the mysterious Ignacio. She closed her eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of the salted air through her nose, having to put her free hand up on her had to keep it from blowing off her head in the mild breeze. Being here, and with Mythal, was doing much to ease her troubled mind.

    Words: 624/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1057
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 21st January 2019, 2:30 am

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    This was not the life. This was the farthest from the ideal life for Mythal.

    While Serilda wondered about how leisure and how often she didn’t get to take part in it, the God Slayer’s brain was running rampant over multiple different subjects. First and probably foremost was the apparent revelation that his adoptive father was alive… or, and probably worse, someone was playing a damn close version of him. He wasn’t honestly sure which direction was worse, though that didn’t stop him from wondering. If it was truly Gren, if the old bastard was still alive, where had he been all these years? Why hadn’t he revealed to Mythal that he had been alive? It had been almost twenty years since the fateful night that supposedly took him from the world. Now, all of a sudden, he was popping up out of nowhere and going to Serilda, of all people. Or was it some imposter; some agent of Faera’s that had made a potent magic enough to take his face and run around, pretending to be him? That meant that the Fallen Goddess was trying to trick him or trap him once more. He wished he could say it wouldn’t work but… pretending to be his adoptive father was crossing a goddamn line.

    Following close behind the leading thought were his feelings towards Serilda. He’d been in flux with how to handle them or more how to best rid himself – and her – of them. The best alternative he had come up with was to simply stop working with her; cutting off all communication and going it solo once again. But that choice would lead to a confrontation, which would in turn lead to a revealing of said feelings either on both sides or one and that would complicate things worse. One of his strongest inclinations had been to run and disappear – to take off one day and just head to a different land. But the truth of the matter was wherever he went, she’d find him. If he just disappeared, she would suspect foul play and investigate. There were, to put it simply, no options for him. He really should have considered limiting his time spent with her as well but when she called and asked him to not only attend a job with him but take a full weekend away; he couldn’t find it in him to say no. As much as he hated being in love with her, he still enjoyed being around her. It was a double edged sword and somehow it was stabbing into him with both blades.

    Coming up the rear was his… newfound libido. The one thing he knew he couldn’t do was continue to sleep with Serilda. If he was serious about making sure their mutual feelings faded, he had to stop engaging her in physical intimacy. What should have been an easy string to cut had proven to be quite hardy – nearly impossible even. His body, mind and soul still found her attractive and alluring and honestly, going to a beach hadn’t helped in the least bit. Her in a bikini, even as classy as the outfit was, still offered plenty of view of her curves. Making it worse was apparently his newfound attraction to the perfume she wore. He hadn’t realized it at the ball in Minstrel but now that he was here and smelled it again, his inner turmoil shot to a ridiculously high percentage. His physical desires were on par with what he had felt at the royal ball and he couldn’t help but connect the two instances of her wearing that self-same perfume. It roused him in ways it really shouldn’t have and in perhaps the worst time as well.

    Being on a beach, naturally it meant they couldn’t wear full outfits – that would just make them stick out like sore thumbs. Mythal didn’t have a bathing suit per se, as he didn’t often go into the water for leisure. When he had used the steam house with Serilda, he had taken one of the left over workout shorts left there. But that wasn’t a bathing suit and to be honest, he had forgotten to pack it. So he was left with having to go to the store here to get one and the only kind they had were… speedos. Against his better judgement and will, Mythal had purchased an all-black one and put it on. Hell, he’d managed to get through wearing a pink tutu in front of people and battle Santa’s forces stark naked – a speedo wasn’t going to be the end of the world for him. So he’d put it on and worn it as proudly as one could. But with the mixture of her in her bikini and the perfume, he’d found it difficult to… manage such thin piece of clothing. He’d managed to force the other two prevailing thoughts to the forefront of his mind so he wouldn’t get wrapped up in the growing last one. It had worked… mostly.

    He’d managed to distract himself further with other activities while they were there; Gren was more than elated to be out and exploring somewhere new. He took to the water like a fish, dancing among the waves and splashing around like the pup he was. Serilda may have been surprised to see that he actually semi-conformed to the command words given to him – really only the ones that kept him from speeding down the beachfront and out of earshot of them. As they were not told they couldn’t have alcohol, Mythal was more than happy to order a tall glass filled with a heavy percentile whiskey.

    He had barely heard her as she spoke up, lamenting the last time she had been to a beach. His stare was outward and onto the grains of sand before them, focused on all the thoughts that flew in front of his mind’s eyes. After a beat, he seemed to pull himself out enough to hear the statement. “Huh? Oh… yeah, been awhile for me too,” he said. It was obvious that even here, in a veritable paradise, Mythal’s mind was nothing but troubled. He took a moment to shake the thoughts away, forcing them all on mute – a troublesome action for the third, pesky tribulation. But he managed to sort of shift himself so she wouldn’t notice anything or, at the very least, would keep it from other eyes that may see. To keep her from commenting on it, save that she did notice, he put another thought into the air.  “So this guy wants to rig the fighting system to get a payout?” he mused aloud. “I guess if it’s all fair and legal… shouldn’t be too big a thing.” They had come here for the sole purpose of taking part in a fighting tournament; a contest that would pit them, not just against other human competitors, but monsters and beasts as well. If anything, he would at least get to punch his frustrations out.


    Sphere IslandFairy Tail
    1171/8000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1447
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 21st January 2019, 8:26 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    She did not miss that he was distracted, of course. They both had been heavily upset by Ignacio’s -- or rather, Gren’s -- sudden appearance to her recently. Honestly after everything that had happened it was part of the reason why she’s decided on doing this job at all, and on bringing Mythal along. They both could use the time away, and probably a fight to work off a bit of steam and stress. Granted there were other ways to work off steam, arguably more pleasant ways, but it hardly seemed appropriate to suggest such things given the circumstances. Though, it certainly was hard not to suggest given how great he looked in a speedo, of all things.

    Mythal asked a bit about the job, doing his best to not stay focused on recent events. “I wouldn’t exactly call it rigging,” Serilda admitted, taking a sip from her martini. At this point, he would have already picked up on her distaste for gambling in general, as her petite nose seemed to screw itself up into a subtle but disdainful frown every time the subject came up. “He just wants to play the game and better his chances at earning some winnings. From everything he’s told us, this isn’t a tournament for amateurs. I thought he was trying to rig it at first but honestly, by the sound of it, we may have to pull out all the stops just to make it into the quarter finals.”

    That, at least, made the job more bareable as she wasn’t just getting paid to beat up on civilians that didn’t have any fighting experience whatsoever.

    Serilda looked back over to him for a moment, tilting her head enough that the brim of her sun hat could block the rays from her face as she looked him in the eyes. There was a tenderness in her gaze that acknowledged her understanding of what was truly on his mind -- or at least, part of it. For the moment she was totally unaware of the effects her perfume was having on him, if only because she hadn’t take a moment to glance down.

    Reaching out with her free hand, she gently set it on his side just above his hip in a comforting gesture. Her thumb rubbed his flesh there softly, a subtle gesture of encouragement. She wasn’t much for public displays of affection, but his needs outweighed her own as far as she was concerned. No matter what she had experienced, all of this was worse on him. “We’ll get through this, Mythal,” Serilda told him quietly. “We’ll figure out what’s going on. And whatever you need, I’ll be here. Whatever happens, I’m not going anywhere.”

    It’s not that she thought he was afraid of her being scared away, of course. He’d know she wasn’t. It was more that she understood how greatly he must be feeling alone in all of this, from years of emotions that he thought he had been working past suddenly coming back into the woodwork. More than anything, she wanted him to know that this time around he wasn’t going to be fighting by himself. Serilda leaned up and kissed him gently on the cheek.

    Turning back to the water, she smirked lightly at the wolves where they played in the waves. “They’re certainly having a good time, at least. He’s coming along nicely with commands, too. I think he already knows more at that age than even Xiuh did.” Xiuhcoatl was splashing around her young brother, hunching down in the water and engaging him at his level, letting Gren chase her around and tackle her in the salt waves.

    Serilda shook her head a bit. With a small sigh that betrayed how she’d much rather just spend all day with them at the beach than do anything else, she said, “Well… we should probably start making our way back. We need enough time to clean up before we head over.” Once he was ready, she whistled to her wolf and the animal came bounding over, shaking the salt water off her thick fur. It would take them a bit to get back to their room where they were lodging for the weekend, and then a bit longer still to clean off both the dogs and themselves.

    Soon enough, however, they were both dressed and ready to go. Since the wolves would not be participating in the fight, they had opted to leave the two in the hotel room. With plenty of food and water left out, as well as an emergency puppy pad just in case, the two would be more than capable of looking after themselves for a few hours.

    The arena was surprisingly large. Smaller than the one used in Crocus for the Grand Magic Games, but similar enough in flavor and still with plenty of space for movement. Once the two of them were checked in and assigned to their private room where they could wait between matches, Serilda took a look at one of the two lacrima vision screens in the room. One would host a live feed of the fights that they could watch from the room, if they didn’t wish to watch outside -- the other was keeping track of the betting odds. “Well, he certainly wasn’t kidding. We’re at one in twenty-six.”

    Words: 1536/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1057
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 21st January 2019, 9:13 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Mythal was pretty willing to believe Serilda, as she explained that the job’s owner wasn’t intentionally trying to rig the system. He was playing by the rules of the game and simply trying to get himself a payout while he was at it. Part of that would go towards the payment for the job as well, so there was no doubt that he was putting a fair amount of jewel on the line. Still, it still seemed a bit gaming to the God Slayer, if still a legal way to do it. It was encouraging to hear that no matter what, they would probably need to fight at their hardest. This was a professional fighting tournament and that meant professionals in the ring, even if some of them were on the bestial side. “Good. I need somethin’ to punch,” he stated out loud, his tone slightly bitter. He took a large swig of his drink and hissed between clenched teeth at the sharp burn that ran down his throat.

    That may have been the end of the conversation but she surprised him by reaching out, both verbally and physically. Her hand stretched out and pressed itself against his side, causing him to stop walking and look to her. Gods, he could see the concern written all over her face but even brighter was it in her eyes. There was also understanding; she knew what was bothering him because it was bothering her too. Hell, she had been the one unfortunate enough to be targeted by Gren or the Gren imposter, whatever they were. She understood his grief most of all and if that didn’t make things harder for his heart, he didn’t know what would. She spoke to him; encouraging words that attempted to ease his troubles and urge him to look on the positive side of things. They’d get through it, they would figure it out and most importantly, she’d be there with him. Words that both warmed and chilled his bones right to the core. He stood there as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek and managed a small smile, albeit a sad one. “Thanks,” he said to her, appreciating her words. They may not have stuck as well as she hoped they would but they had made an impact. Small steps were still steps indeed.

    She turned to look at the hounds, gleefully losing themselves to the excitement of the beach. Xiuhco was more than receptive to her younger brother, playing with him fully and giving him chances to truly stretch out his little puppy legs. Mythal actually laughed as he watched them. “Maybe. I think he takes the commands to heart but he doesn’t quite want to obey most of ‘em. He just knows when I call ‘em back, he’s to come back. But we’re getting’ there. He’s just as stubborn as… well… as Gren,” he said with a soft sigh. Never was a name more ill-placed than now.

    But they had plans and it was getting to a time when they should be preparing to leave. With a bit of hesitance, Serilda stated as much and then called over Xiuhco, letting her know it was time to go. Mythal whistled for Gren but it was a far different sound, not using his fingers to make a high-pitch but undulating noise. The smaller Star Wolf stood right up and looked to Mythal, wuffing and then racing right at him at full speed. He weaved between the God Slayer’s legs before shaking himself dry, spraying Mythal with a fresh spritzing of the salt water. “Thanks pal,” he said down to the pup, though his small smirk betrayed his humor at it.

    Once they got back to the lodge, they made sure the dogs were clean of their ocean scent and each took a quick rinse to clean themselves as well. Once they had dressed for the tournament and prepared the pup’s food, water and padding, they were off to the arena. It was quite the impressively sized coliseum, rivaling many that Mythal had seen during his travels. They checked in and set themselves up in their private room, a place to rest between their matches. Once there, the God Slayer began his pre-workout routine. Given that he was aware he was going into an arena match, he could properly prepare his body for it rather than having to pick up on the fly. He was in the midst of his push up set when Serilda made note of their odds. Two lacrima vision screens were set up in the room for their viewing pleasure, giving them both a view of the matches going on and the betting odds as they were put in. He stopped mid-drop, having been doing his push ups with one hand, and glanced up at the screen. “Oh. Is that good?” In all honestly, the God Slayer didn’t know much about gambling. He knew what it was and had certainly attempted to do some during his travels but he’d never actually committed to thought what ‘odds’ were when it came to this kind of gambling.

    But that didn’t mean he hadn’t participated in fights like it. “I remember about ten years ago or so,” he said aloud, the memory coming seemingly out of nowhere. “There was this… small time tournament in Hosenka, I think was the place. Underground fight, winner gets equal share of the full pot. I was short of jewel so I signed up, as much as I didn’t want to be shoved into a dank underground cave with other people. I made a lotta people mad that day – bein’ an underdog in a tournament like that ain’t exactly highly regarded. Especially when you keep on winnin’,” he finished the thought with a soft chuckle and shake of his head. “It say anywhere who we’re facin’ first?”


    Sphere IslandFairy Tail
    2150/8000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1447
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 21st January 2019, 10:26 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    She could hear the darkness in his voice when he said he needed something to punch, and Serilda couldn’t blame him. Frankly, she did too -- and she wasn’t one usually to resort to violent means for venting her frustrations. Still, she knew that even she couldn’t hold off letting out some steam before exploding. Hopefully this tournament would do them both a lot of good, and not just financially.

    Her words didn’t quite have the impact she was aiming for, but she knew he was sincere with his thanks. Words only ever went so far with him, anyway, and often times it took him a while to bring himself to where he needed to be mentally. It wasn’t a place that she could lead him. He had to get there on his own. Besides, she could hardly guide him to a place of peace about it when she herself was still struggling with it. But they could, and would, struggle through it together. Of that Serilda was certain. If one of them fell, the other would be there to pull them back on their feet, and even if they were crawling they would reach the other side.

    Thankfully, the sights of the dogs playing seemed to lift both their spirits a bit. Mythal laughed; the first time he’d done so since everything with Gren. It was becoming increasingly obvious the older the pup got that he had a strong stubborn streak about him, something he seemed to have inherited from his namesake. Serilda heard Mythal sigh at the usage of the name, and though she didn’t turn to look at him she did reach over silently to hold his hand in wordless understanding, her fingers loosely hooking around a couple of his own rather than a full palm to palm interlock.

    A few hours later, and they were at the arena. Mythal dutifully set himself to warming up while Serilda analyzed the boards. When she mentioned their odds, he paused long enough to look up and inquire about what that meant. “Technically they’re bad odds, but since that’s what our client is hoping for it’s good as far as our aim is concerned. Basically, it just means more people are placing their bets on others over us. Effectively translated, it means that for every single jewel bet on us winning, our victory would give the gambler a return of twenty-six jewel. What we should probably do is try to hold back as much as possible until it really matters, that way people keep betting on other more veteran or showy opponents.”

    She moved over to one of the tables in the room and sat at it, placing her sword on the surface. Withdrawing the weapon, Serilda procured a few necessary items from her small pack she’d brought and set to sharpening and oiling the scimitar while Mythal regaled her with a story from his past. He’d entered himself in a tournament once when he was younger to make himself a bit of money, and hadn’t been well received by a lot of the patrons after he’d caused them to lose their money. He seemed amused by the thought, even chuckling a little. Serilda smirked at him from over the table. “I’m not in the least bit surprised,” she told him with a small laugh of her own.

    They discussed their first opponents, and before long were out in the ring. Round after round went by, the two of them taking and dealing their fair share of licks but ultimately coming out the victors in the end. The battles had not been easy, though. Even the first round had been enough to show them that they were going to have to truly earn their money’s worth in these fights. They both did their best to keep their abilities reigned in as much as possible, wanting to save some of their best tricks for when the odds were higher. And indeed, the more they seemed to barely coast along through the tournament, the higher the odds got. By the time they reached the quarter finals and there were less opponents to bet on, the odds were stacked against them by almost two hundred to one.

    Unsurprisingly, the physical exertion had done a lot to make her feel better. By the time the third to last round was getting starting, Serilda was feeling a bit more like herself. It was likely only temporary, but that was better than nothing. It was amazing how therapeutic beating the snot out of another person could be, and though it certainly wasn’t fair to their opponents to take their aggressions out on them, it was definitely helping to fuel their drive toward victory.

    The brackets appeared on the screen once they were decided and Seri got Mythal’s attention. “Looks like we’re up against those sisters,” she told him. They had taken time to observe a few of the other battles when possible, and one of the other teams was a pair of twin sisters that fought mostly through martial arts. They had seemed more than competent, having easily dispatched most of their prior opponents. “We’re also up first, it seems. You ready?” Once Mythal indicated he was prepared to go, they would make their way back into the arena.

    Words: 2432/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1057
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 21st January 2019, 11:31 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    Mythal had stopped mid-push up to listen to Serilda as she gave him a breakdown of how odds worked, in terms of gambling. They were set to have bad odds but that’s what they wanted – for when they eventually made it to the quarter finals, the payout would be much higher. They were basically sleepers, as no one in the betting world expected them to win. Interesting; apparently out here, they hadn’t gotten the memo to just who they were. Serilda and Mythal had done a fair amount of jobs and earned quite the acclaim. The God Slayer himself had been a Rising Star only a few weeks ago according to the Sorcerer Weekly. But it seemed that fame hadn’t translated over here. Either that or the gamblers didn’t believe their skills could carry over to a tournament setting.

    It was actually pretty entertaining to think about. A whole lot of people were going to leave with looser wallets and new understandings of scouting their matches. Mythal shook his head and continued his pushups through his story. Once he had finished it, he popped up and they took a few moments to discuss their opponents and what the best strategy would be for them. It was only a few minutes after that when someone came to get them, alerting them that their match would be next. Thus began the whirligig of competition fighting – rounds seemed to fall off the board as they won one right after the other. It wasn’t easy in any means; it required patience, technique and strategy but that was something both Serilda and himself had plenty of. Between their matches, they were given time to dress their wounds and catch their breaths.

    It was amazing how much better he was already feeling. All the pains and thoughts that had been controlling his mind lately had been dulled, replaced by the silence of pinpoint combat focus. The feeling of his fists crashing into opponents, bringing them down and laying them low, was just the therapy he needed for some temporary release. All of his issues would return later, without any doubt, but for now and perhaps for the rest of the day, he would be in a place of euphoria. He still wasn’t talking as much as he used to around her but his mood didn’t feel as downtrodden or worn. Amazing what a little fist fighting could do.

    Eventually they made it to the quarter finals, where their victories were going to matter much more. He was finishing some wrapping on his arm when Serilda called him over, pointing at their newest opponents. Apparently they had gotten the Midian sisters; two women that were twins, that used a combination of martial arts to fight. The sister in the red kimono used two butterfly knives and seemed to favor punches. The one in the pink kimono had a wrapped samurai sword attached to her back and would mix cuts in with kicks. They were an elegant and powerful pair and they certainly wouldn’t be easy to beat.

    She asked if he was ready and he nodded, tightening the bandage and giving her a thumbs up. As they entered the coliseum, the crowd was already going nuts. Their competition was there, standing across from them on the opposite side of the battleground. He took his stance beside Serilda, his eyes snapping between the two women that were staring back at them. Only a moment later did the announcer’s voice come over the lacrima speakers. “This is it, ladies and gentlemen! The opening bout to the quarter finals. On one side, we have the team of Serilda Sinclair and Mythal Ragnos – a pair of wizards that have come out of nowhere to slice through our opening brackets like a hot knife! On the other, the Yazmani twins; Seschua and Nayeeta.” As the twin’s names were said, the crowd’s fervor went even crazier. “I hope you’re ready, folks! Because it looks like our competitors are ready to go!”

    “We better decide which one we—“ Mythal was turning his head to talk to Serida, forming a quick game plan. But the world shimmered around him and he was suddenly and rudely wrenched from his position to a new one. He spun around to find himself standing on the opposite side of where the Voidwalker was; of where he had been!

    Magic? They were holding back before, the God Slayer figured. But before he could completely finalize the thought, he felt the ground shift beneath his feet – as if someone was running at him at full force. He had just enough time to leap backwards and over the samurai sword as it slashed through the air at him, looking to divorce his top half from his bottom. He landed on his hands and backspringed onto his feet, sliding a few feet away from Seschua before falling into a fighting stance.

    “I see…” She said softly, pulling her sword back and tucking it by her side. Her sharp eyes took note of him as she turned, looking over each individual part of him. “A monk’s stance. You have been taught by my people.”

    “I have,” Mythal confirmed simply, keeping his guard about him.

    “Good,” she stated as she brought the sword forward, taking a full grip of the handle with both hands. “Then I will not need to hold back.”

    The God Slayer reached back and pulled Curse out from his back, the weapon unfolding itself to full length. He flipped it around so the back of the blade rested flat against the outside of his arm. “I’d be insulted if ya didn’t,” he said back.

    That seemed to be all the conversation that needed to be passed between them. There was only a moment of peace before both of them charged, their weapons swinging forward to meet with a loud crack of metal hitting metal.


    Sphere IslandFairy Tail
    3134/8000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1447
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 22nd January 2019, 2:06 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Back into the arena they went. They were introduced to a wave of applause, though not as much as the Yazmani sisters who were definitely a crowd favorite. Serilda eyed the women with a calculating look from across the dirt floor, trying to ascertain how she and Mythal would best be suited to fighting them. It seemed her partner had similar thoughts, and he was in the process of asking for her opinion when his voice stopped.

    She felt him get moved before she even fully processed that he was gone. Her Void Sense kicked in, shifting the air around him until his body disappeared and was replaced by another. Instinctively, Serilda whipped out her scimitar and didn’t miss a beat parrying the two strikes that her opponent tried to land on her, thinking her caught off guard. A quick step back was all it took to put enough distance between them that the other woman was just a bit out of reach of her sword.

    Nayeeta peered at Serilda studiously, playing idly with one of her butterfly knives as she did so. “Curious. I’ve been keeping an eye on your matches, and I thought there was something off about you. On the surface you’re just a woman with a fancy sword and uncanny reflexes… same with your partner. But I think you’re hiding some magic in there, aren’t you?”

    Serilda repositioned herself, squaring off against the woman with her glowing scimitar held steady in a middle guard. “So are you two, apparently. Did you come here to chat, or to fight?” she asked coolly, just the hint of teasing in her tone.

    The woman picked up on the subtle inflection and smiled. “Excellent. I do enjoy a challenge.”

    In the blink of an eye, Nayeeta sprang forward to engage Serilda once more. The arena filled with the clangs of metal on metal as their weapons met time and again, though the noise was drown out by the roar of the crowds. Serilda kept her mind focused on her own opponent, only monitoring Mythal idly through her magical senses and trusting him to deal with Seschua. After dozens of passes, neither woman managed a hit on the other, the two of them seeming to be about on par with their skills -- or at least, presumably. It was possible that Nayeeta was holding back. Serilda certainly was.

    They broke apart at one point, and the woman smirked at her again. “You’re no Midian, but I have to admit you’re pretty damn fast with that sword. Even my people’s best swordsmen have a difficult time fighting against my smaller knives. It’s clear we’re not going to get anywhere like this, so let’s up the stakes a bit, shall we?”

    For a moment, Serilda thought her vision was blurring. Nayeeta seemed to shimmer and split. If it weren’t for her Void Sense, the noblewoman likely would have thought this a mere illusion. However, there was no mistaking that these bodies were quite real. Her opponent had made three duplicates of herself, causing Serilda to be surrounded on all sides. Each of the duplicates also had copies of her weapons, meaning it was now eight butterfly knives against a single scimitar.

    It was hardly fair odds, but to her credit Serilda didn’t show any signs of concern on her face. She continued to eye the original form in front of her, more than aware of the others through her senses. She was already reaching deep into the void pockets around her, waiting patiently to see which version of Nayeeta would make the first move.

    All four of them did.

    The next moment was a total blur for the Voidwalker. With her sword hand, she parried the incoming attack to her right. With her free hand, she flicked her wrist and tore a chunk of rock from the arena floor, smashing it up underneath the chin of the clone to her left. Behind her, the clone found her attack falling just short of Serilda as her butterfly knives cracked and crumbled to nothing on the ground. The final copy of Nayeeta -- the one to her front -- was the only one that would have gotten a strike in if Serilda’s body didn’t go into its natural defense mode. The pair of knives snapped out together and homed in on her chest, burying themselves inside.

    But it was with no resistance, as her magic kicked in and instinctively rearranged the molecules of space in her body to make room for the knives to pass in and out harmlessly. The crowd gasped collectively, utterly shocked by what had just transpired; first surprised by Nayeeta’s display of magic, and then stunned to near silence by the fact that Serilda had just somehow managed to come out of a four on one assault unscathed. The noble was a bit shocked by that herself, but it did not show on her face.

    It did show on Nayeeta’s, though. The woman -- or, well, women -- stared in confusion. “What the hell kind of magic do you use?” one of them asked in wonder, unable to form any kind of connection between the four very different types of skill that Serilda had just shown.

    The Voidwalker reset her stance for the next round of attacks, and with a small smirk of her own told her opponent, “The kind that’s good at crowd control.”

    Nayeeta may have been able to duplicate herself, but Serilda had spent a lot of time honing her magic to be effective against multiple opponents. If this woman wanted to beat her, it would take more than a few extra helping hands.

    By the time her fight was over, Serilda had several deep cuts along her arms and shoulders, as well as one on her side. No matter what, fighting one on four was not great odds and her body could only avoid so many hits. However, between the ambidextrous marriage of her sword and her magic, Serilda had managed to beat down each copy of Nayeeta until all of the clones had merged back to the original. Though they had outnumbered her, their power was significantly decreased by the splits and that had been their downfall.

    As she held the sister by swordpoint on the ground where the Midian lay gasping for breath, Serilda glanced up at Mythal to see how he was faring.

    Words: 3508/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1057
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 22nd January 2019, 10:13 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    The first meeting of their swords was not the loudest one but it was certainly the impact that drove the nearby audience crazy. Seschua swung her blade around in another swipe and the God Slayer countered it in kind, knocking it down and away without a moment’s hesitation. He reached out to stab at her, as she had left herself open, but suddenly found himself falling into a portal. He was far above the stadium floor, and immediately began to fall down towards the hard ground. A swift and brutal way to attempt to end the battle early. Mythal’s arms swung through the air for only a moment, as if he was trying to paddle in the air to slow his descent. Seschua probably felt pretty good about herself for a quick moment before the man turned into a bird and swooped up, avoiding the ground. The God Slayer quickly turned back into his normal form as he came down at her, spinning forward. As his sword met hers and his feet hit the ground, the floor trembled and she slid back several inches from the impact.

    “You’re a lot more than you seem to be,” the Midian woman said, her eyes narrowing.

    Mythal didn’t answer. Instead, he used her momentary distraction to snap his foot up and plant it in her chest, sending her sprawling backwards. She rolled twice before catching herself, planting her feet evenly and bringing her sword up just in case he was charging her. He remained in place, spinning his weapon around several times before he tucked it back against his pants, the blade folding back into its smallest form.

    “Giving up?”

    “No. Just not wastin’ my time,” Mythal said as he set his hands at his sides. He funneled his power into his core, even as he kept his eyes locked on her. There it circled, compressing and compressing over and over again until it was a wild ball of magical energy. When he released it, his magic power skyrocketed inside of him, surging through his veins at such an extreme rate that he let out a small groan. All at once his abilities had been heightened and as he raised his right hand up, it became cloaked in the black gauntlet of his power. He turned it over and waved his fingers at her, inciting her to charge him.

    The woman snorted and swung her blade around. As she leapt towards him, she suddenly disappeared before reaching him. His eyes snapped to his rear and he spun just in time to bring his armored limb up to catch the blade before it cut him, the impact causing his arm to jerk slightly. Yet her strength proved impressive, the blade cutting through the magic to pierce the top-most layer of his flesh. He twisted the self-same arm and shuffled, sending a kick at her face that she back flipped away and avoided. Her arms moved across from one another, like hands upon a clock face. All at once he could feel slight drafts from around him as the air shimmered and pulsed on every side. She’d opened several portals all at once and then dove into the closest.

    She emerged at the diagonal, her sword leading the way as she came down. He had just enough time to block the slice away with his gauntlet, though it did bite into his skin once more. As he spun to counter attack, she was already leaping away into another portal. This time she emerged in time to land a solid slice across his shoulder blades, opening his flesh and clothing with the single strike. He grunted and fell forward, the pain temporarily flashing white in his eyes. He heard her move again and the slight inhale the portal made when it took her in. He rolled just in time to avoid another swing, the blade carving a deep gorge in the floor. She was moving again but now… now she had shown her hand. Mythal had been focusing on her movements, listening for the slight noises each portal made. As she entered one, it released the aforementioned sound but when she emerged, it seemed to a small squeal that prefaced her attack. His magic once again surged into his core for a moment before releasing into his veins, now surging into his limbs to give him more mobility and speed. As she came out in another attack, he was able to easily slide to the side and avoid the weapon, the very tip of the blade snipping his hair at the end. But his arm snapped forward and slammed an elbow into her stomach, essentially catching her in place and using her own movement to do most of the damage. The expulsion of air from her lungs was enough for him to take advantage.

    His body twisted around so that he was facing her while also standing right at her side, moving so fast that she was practically a hovering target for him to strike. His left hand lashed out in a palm strike to her chest, hitting her right above the breast and directly on a pressure point. Before that could take full effect, he grabbed her sword wielding arm and tossed her up, setting her spinning like a top. As she came down, Mythal’s body spun counter to her whirling and slammed his leg into her back, sending her flying towards the wall. But his boosted speed carried him ahead of her, practically a shadow as he raced to get in front of her. As she soared at him, he shuffled his feet and delivered the final blow – a side kick that connected right on her chin. She spun in the air backwards, her sword soaring away and burying itself in the ground. When she hit the floor, it was a hard thump. Her body went fully limp, her eyes glazed over from the pain he had inflicted upon her.

    Mythal let a breath out and his rampant magic released its tension, setting him back to a state of rest. He hissed between clenched teeth as he reached over his shoulder and felt the cut on his back, pulling his fingers back to see the spackle of blood. He glanced over to Serilda, who had laid out the other sister and now held her at sword point. “Ladies and gentlemen, your winners… Serilda and Mythal!” The announcer practically screamed over the loud speaker. The crowd was cheering, with mixed in boos from fans of the Midian sisters.

    Mythal walked over to Serilda, rolling his arms to try and stretch out the injury on his back. “Well… clearly the finals ain’t gonna be easy,” he said. And this was only their first round in it.


    Sphere IslandFairy Tail
    4264/8000
    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
    Position : Goddess of Conviction
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1447
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 155
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Experience : 12,421,054

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 24th January 2019, 4:04 am




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Serilda barely even heard the crowd at that point. This fight had been a bit of a doozy, more so than even the previous rounds. As Mythal walked over to her, she grimaced a bit and placed a hand on her side where her worst injury was. “It does seem like we weren’t the only ones holding back,” she murmured to him in response to his comment. She turned him a bit to get a look at the cut on his back -- more out of habit than anything else. There were plenty of magical healers here that would tend to both their wounds soon enough so they could be ready for the next round, but the woman couldn’t keep herself from at least taking stock of the injury.

    Time passed quickly it seemed, as they received their healings and got a little rest before it was time for the semi-finals. Once again their seed had been drawn, and this time they were going up against a pair of men. These opponents were not related to one another as their last ones had been. In fact, Serilda honestly wasn’t sure how they had become a team in the first place for they seemed quite mismatched. One was an older man with long blond hair and a green robe that fit so snug to his body that it was difficult to miss that he was in excellent shape for his age. The other was much younger, with pink hair and an excessive amount of muscle. Both of them appeared to fight primarily unarmed, as neither carried any weapons. But, like everyone else so far, if they also had any kind of magic they had been keeping it mostly underwraps for the duration of the tournament thus far.

    She stretched a bit where she stood as they waited in the arena once again for their names to be announced, working out any kinks still left in her muscles from the last healing. “We have arrived at the semi-finals! And what a journey it has been so far, folks! Our first team is one you’re all starting to know all too well, a pair that has come seemingly out of nowhere and pushed their way to the top, who continues to surprise us each round with new tricks and skills. Please give it up for Serilda Sinclair and Mythal Ragnos! Our other team is one that you know well. These two have been working together in this tournament for five consecutive years, starting once as opponents before teaming up and bashing through the competition -- though never all the way to the top! Could this finally be their year? Let’s hear a round of applause for your very own Ryzmir Albizin and Dovel ‘the Monster’ Karden!”

    The roar of the crowd was much more thunderous for the second pair, who clearly were well known veterans of this tournament with a history here. It seemed they’d been working together for a while to try and win, several years, but had yet to actually do so. Given that this round was bound to be even more difficult than the last, Serilda was already poised in a middle guard with her scimitar and ready to go. The last round had started much quicker than either of them had expected, and she wasn’t going to risk being unprepared this time around.

    As before, they didn’t really get the chance to work out a tactic for how they wanted to proceed. Any attempts for them to communicate with each other were cut off by a thunderous roar that drew every single eye to Dovel, the pink haired man. Before their eyes, his body began to shift and mold. It grew in size and thickness, each limb completely mismatched from the other in terms of color and shape. He even grew a third arm from his left side. His head squished down into his shoulders and his shirt ripped off as his body expanded. On his chest, a large mouth formed with chains pierced to it. Several other smaller mouths, each filled with razor sharp teeth, split into existence around his face, which had taken on a smashed and grotesque form.

    “What the hell?!” Serilda asked, a look of horror passing over her. The crowd was deafening. This was clearly not the first time he’d pulled out this take over form, and suddenly his moniker of “The Monster” was starting to make a little more sense. This was insane! He looked like a grotesque, pieced together puzzle project out of some mad scientist’s lab.

    As soon as the take over was complete, he roared again and came barrelling right toward her. Knowing that he would crush her with his superior weight, and not entirely certain that she wanted to risk banking on her own magic’s ability to avoid his strikes, Serilda attempted to bolt to the side. A thick, meaty hand wrapped around her leg, and she found herself being whipped backward and up into the air. Rather than fly, she twisted herself until she was diving head first back toward the ground. The audience gasped when she disappeared beneath the surface of the arena like the ground hadn’t been there at all.

    Dovel growled and tried to sniff around for her. When he could smell her but not find her, he began to tear his fingers into the ground and rip chunks of it apart piece by piece in an effort to unearth her. Serilda managed to evade him long enough to slip out of the ground behind him and land a couple quick strikes with her scimitar. Undaunted, he turned and snatched her again, one big hand capable of pinning her down to the ground. The other two hands reared back, and Serilda knew exactly where this was going.

    She had just enough time to tap into her Cold Stint ability before she was at the receiving end of a brutal pummeling. Agony was her entire world as massive fists beat into her time and time again. It was everything she could do to try and at least keep her sword up so that every time he struck her, he also cut himself on her weapon. The more energy she could drain from him, the better.

    Serilda honestly didn’t know how she came out of that as anything other than a bloody pulp. She had several broken bones, and the only reason any blood had stayed in her body was because she’d managed to chill it before hand. When the onslaught was done, he picked her up once more and slammed her into the small crater he’d made, like he was trying to prove a point about her ability to let things pass through her body. She cried out in anguish, as he stepped back to roar again.

    As she always had before, Serilda grit her teeth through the pain and used it to focus. The ground beneath the monster’s feet began to quake and tremble violently, the cracks that were already there splitting even more. The great lumbering man stumbled over his own footing, trying to catch himself and stay stable. While he dealt with that, she used the time she’d bought herself to drag her body onto her knees. She channeled her magic into the air above them and formed tiny darts of highly pressurized air. With the flick of her wrist, the invisible darts poured down and buried into him, shredding his skin. He howled in anger and rage, trying to dodge the blasts and finding it difficult if not impossible with the ground so unstable at his feet.

    Somehow, she managed to stand back up. Her body felt like rubber, and she could hardly lift her hand to swing her sword. She knew she was going to have to change tactics if she wanted to continue any blows. The woman was entirely oblivious to the fact that the crowd was in an uproar over the fact that she was even still alive, let alone still in the fight. Tempering her sword and gracing it with the weightlessness of the Void, the weapon levitated before her. Even if her muscles were all but useless, she could still use her magic to fight.

    With a grunt, the woman flicked her wrist several times, directing her scimitar to strike the transformed man over and over. Each hit drained him of more and more power, until eventually his takeover faded and he fell on his face, unconscious. The noblewoman dropped to a knee, barely able to steady herself by thrusting the tip of her scimitar into the ground and using it to help keep her balance. She had massive bruises forming everywhere, and blood dripping from her face. There was no way she was going to be able to help Mythal finish his fight, so all she could do was look up and hope he was winning.

    Words: 5006/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

    Knight VIP Status- Regular VIP Status- VIP- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Slayer- Magic Application Approved!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Player 
    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
    Position : God of Sedulity
    Faction : The Rune Knights
    Posts : 1057
    Guild : Guildless
    Cosmic Coins : 50
    Dungeon Tokens : 0
    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
    Experience : 11,070,431

    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 25th January 2019, 11:10 am

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    This must have been a hilarious comparison to the last time he had suffered a grievous injury on his back and she had tried to inspect it. The first time he had resisted, downright fought her off, until their aggravations with one another had led to a sweaty, angry sexual encounter in the desert. Only after that had he cooled off enough to let her clean up the injury at all. But now, many months after that, he simply turned when she encouraged him to, letting her examine the cut on his back. He glanced back at Seschua, still lying on the ground from the beat down Mythal had rendered upon her. She would be feeling lightheaded probably for a few days after the continuous and linking strikes he had used. He glanced at arms, seeing the cuts that had bloodied and were seeping the plasma onto his forearm. The healers would be able to tend to his wounds rather easily but the impact of them would remain. Her sword had been able to cut through his gauntlet, slice right into his magic and open up his flesh. Yet her magic had to do with portals – so she had made herself physically strong enough to break magic spells? That was impressive; Midian training at its best.

    They settled back in and waited to be called again, after having their injuries tended by the healers. Once the lottery had chosen them, they found themselves back in the ring against a different team. This pair was a far cry from the one they had before; first off, there was easily no relation between them beyond partners. One of them was an older man, who looked to have some Midian blood in him save for the blond and white hair that donned his head and face. His mustache and beard hung low off his face, each one as grand as the other. He wore a single green robe that seemed to give absolutely no room for movement, as it was tight against his form. He was in peak physical condition by the looks of it, a compliment to any that worshipped body building. He also had a pair of sandals on, which seemed ill fitting for a battle situation. The other man looked like either a convict or a bar brawl champion. His third, maroon hair was pulled and slick back, save for his bangs that sprouted off his brow like resistant weeds. His face was contorted in a wicked, confident sneer as he glared daggers at the two of them. His arms, bulky and brawny, were covered in scars from fights long past. He was dressed like a pirate; with a sleeveless brown shirt, loose sea-green pants and heavy boots that covered up to his knees.

    “O…kay,” Mythal said, his eyes darting between the two of them. As the announcer took to introducing the round and the competitors, the God Slayer took a moment to flick Curse out and unfold it to full form. He spun it around so that the blade was backwards once more, far more comfortable with the weapon facing away from him. In this position, he could still use his hand to punch and mix between strikes and slashes with the blade. He stood poised; his body already limber enough from his earlier stretching. The crowd practically exploded as their opponents were introduced, going by the names of Ryzmir Albizin and Dovel ‘the Monster’ Karden. One had a nickname and not the other? That wasn’t concerning.

    Yet again Serilda and Mythal were robbed of time to make a well thought out plan. A monstrous roar cut through the crowd and their thoughts, emerging from Dovel’s mouth. His body began to tremble and jerk, his limbs shaping into different positions and sights right before them. An extra arm, more carnivorous looking mouths than should be on one thing, his merging with his torso and creating a larger mouth with chains linked into it, claws, spines, disgusting growths… suddenly the Monster seemed like a very light appropriation of what this man was. He didn’t wait a second after his transformation was complete before he charged at Serilda, clearly choosing his opponent for the match. That left the old man for Mythal.

    His head cocked to the man, who was still standing where he had started, his arms resting at his sides. The God Slayer decided to try and end his opponent in one blow, so that he could go and help Serilda out with her ghastly foe. All of his magic surged through him at once, heightening both his strength and his speed. He moved so fast across the battlefield, he may as well have teleported from one spot to the next. His right arm, cocked back and ready, came sailing forward into the man’s face, his knuckles burying into forehead of Ryzmir. The impact was loud and thudding, a miniature shockwave exploding out from the impact spot and shaking the ground beneath them.

    And yet, the old man was unmoved. He stood there, his face covered by the fist for a long moment while Mythal attempted to figure out what the hell had just happened. But then there was a pulse and Mythal’s hand snapped backwards, his fingers shaking as pain overwhelmed his arm. He yelped in agony and fell back a step, his other hand coming around to grab at his trembling wrist. “Reinforcement Magic,” the man finally spoke up, his voice cool and relaxed. “I can bolster my defenses and return the damage meant for me back in kind.” Ryzmir opened his eyes, settling them on Mythal’s crimson ones. “I watched your previous bout. You practice a kind of reinforcement as well, do you not? One that heightens your physical strength enough? Is it Shadow Reinforcement?”

    “Somethin’ like that,” the God Slayer said quietly as the pain in his arm began to fade, giving the limb a firm shake to get rid of the tingling sensation. As he flexed his fingers, the older man suddenly shuffled forward and lunged at him with a spear hand strike. Mythal had just enough time to bring his arm up and knock it away but then his arm stung once more with a refreshed pain. Ryzmir continued his assault, raining punches and hand strikes at the God Slayer from all angles. He was blocked each and every time but each time Mythal made a defensive movement, he was treated to a fresh new pain that seemed to sink right to his bones. Only after he leapt back and gave himself some space did the fight halt.

    “I can also reinforce my own strikes to absorb your defensive ones and throw them back. It doesn’t cause nearly as much damage but blocking both my strength and your own will wear you out eventually,” the man calmly explained, bringing his arms up in a fighting pose. “Tell me; where did you learn your fighting style? It is surprisingly fluid.”

    “Tell ya what; you manage to beat me and I’ll tell ya everythin’ you wanna know,” Mythal snapped back as he shook his arms out. His right arm came up, cloaking itself in the shadow gauntlet he had used prior.

    “Unfortunate, for you won’t be able to answer once I have finished,” Ryzmir stated, turning his hand over on itself and then waving at him, summoning him to continue their battle.

    The back and forth battle raged on, with Mythal attempting to land a strike on a soft or weak spot on the man’s body. Each and every time he was rebuked, his own strength bouncing back to hit him with the same force. It only got worse when Ryzmir began to counter rather than simply take the attacks; letting the God Slayer’s punches and kicks hit home but then immediately moving to land his own strike, mixing it with the rebounding attack. Mythal held his ground as best he could but the injuries on his body were beginning to pile up. Cuts and scrapes adorned his face, neck and arms, bruises and lumps rising out of his flesh all over. After a failed attempt at a sidekick, he was sent spiraling back and landed on his front, his face plastered against the ground.

    “You are a valiant fighter,” Ryzmir stated as he walked towards him slowly. “Were I not your opponent, you might have stood a chance,” he took a moment to look over, just in time to catch Serilda being pinned to the ground and Dovel’s fist beginning the first of many punches upon her form. “Your ally is all but defeated. Dovel will make quick work of her. I do not wish to dally with you either; no need to drag out a beating.”

    “Anyone ever say…” Mythal said, his words muffled against the ground. Slowly he pushed himself up, wavering and nearly falling over as he got to his knees and then his feet. Weakly he stood there, his right arm wrapping itself in his dark magic once more, the limb held out in front of him in defiance. One of his eyes was swollen shut but the other glared with the same fire he always had, his fighting spirit all but quelled. “…you talk too damn much?”

    Ryzmir smiled. “Easy to become a chatty fellow when none can hurt me. My apologies, I’ll end this quickly.” As he brought his arm up, ready to begin his final assault, he watched as the God Slayer’s armored hand turned over. Before he could question it, the gauntlet melted into Mythal’s palm, condensing itself into a ball resting against the interior of his hand. He heard the brief sound of a snap as it was released from Mythal’s fingers. Then his world was darkness as a plume of absolute shadow erupted from the hand, smashing into Ryzmir’s face. He was lifted from the ground and sent sailing through the air, landing with a hand thump as his back impacted the floor. The force of the spell forced him to roll over onto his front and crash into the ground there.

    He got to his feet quickly but… “My eyes!” He exclaimed, his hands reaching up to his face. His vision was as black as the magic that had impacted him, dropping him into an endless darkness.

    “I get it now,” he heard Mythal say from in front of him. He put up his defenses immediately. But the impact came from behind, a knife-edge to the back of his neck. He gasped and stumbled forward, clutching the spot on his neck where Mythal had hit. Actually hit. “Your magic only reinforces where you can see,” the God Slayer said from the side. Ryzmir spun around, a back fist aimed for the spot he thought he’d heard the voice. But he only hit the air, no solid impact on a body.

    Mythal’s arm was cocked back, his flesh bleached a snow white and the charcoal veins popping up from his hand. But sparks of black lightning flashed zapped through the air around the arm, the magical pressure that was radiating off too much for even the air to suffer. He thrust it forward, smashing the palm strike onto the man’s chest above his heart. The thin gap in Ryzmir’s defenses was there, the God Slayer’s strike finding home and releasing a devastating impact onto the major pressure point. All the others in the man’s body erupted in protest and his body seized up, a temporary paralysis from his body suffering damage.

    But Mythal wasn’t finished. His arms slid forward one after the other, delivering haymakers from each side once to knock the man’s bewildered head around. Then his right arm snaked up in an uppercut that jolted his head up, further dazing him within the darkness. The God Slayer’s leg snapped out in a front kick, that bent the man over, nearly knocking him to his knees. But Mythal slid the man’s head between his legs, wrapped his arms around his torso and lifted him up, planting him on his shoulders. Then with a yell, the God Slayer swung him down in a power bomb, slamming the Ryzmir’s back into the ground and devastating the floor, shattering it into a large and jagged crater. There Ryzmir came to rest, his body bent over itself at an odd angle but the man somehow still alive. His eyes were as equally glazed over as Seschua’s were, indicating just how knocked out he was.

    Mythal fell to his knees right after, panting heavily as he stared at the form of the Reinforcement wizard. His ears were ringing, not allowing him the opportunity to hear the audience cheering or the announcer losing his mind in excitement. Whatever strength Mythal had left was relegated to keeping him from falling over and face planting, his entire body limp save for his torso. He really, really hoped that Serilda had managed to overcome that monster man because at this rate, if he was the victor, he could come over and push Mythal over with a breath.


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    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

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    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
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    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 25th January 2019, 3:24 pm




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    She had managed to look up just in time to see the last bit of the fight between Mythal and Ryzmir as the tides turned and her partner managed to figure out his opponent’s weakness. It wasn’t long after that before they had won, the sounds of cheers drowning out the announcer’s excitement over the results. Serilda breathed out a sigh of relief, unable to stand to even move herself over to Mythal. Instead, she had to wait for some of the arena’s medics to come collect her to bring her back to their private room.

    There was to be a decent break between this last match and the finals, enough time for her and Mythal to recuperate enough as well as for patrons to go place their bets and do general things like get food or use the restroom. Once again, the two of them received healing. It was enough to stave off the worst of the injuries and restore their magic and energy, but Serilda was definitely still quite sore from that last fight -- and probably would be for a while.

    “I might sleep for a week after this is through,” she told Mythal wryly after the healers left. It certainly felt like she could do just that.

    With a sigh she looked back up at the screens in their room. One was showing active replays of the last fight. Serilda winced at the ariel images of her getting pounded like a steak by Dovel. Her vision glanced over to the other monitors, and it was while she was taking a rather unladylike gulp of water that she noticed what the odds were for the next fight. She practically choked on the liquid in her mouth. Coughing to clear her airways, she pointed at the screen. The odds were over a thousand to one against them.

    Just who the hell were they fighting next, she wondered? The only information they knew was his name: Argus Rosenthal. It was just one man they would be fighting, and yet the odds were still so heavily out of their favor? “He’s got to be pretty powerful, and pretty well known,” she said coarsely, still smacking her chest a bit in an attempt to clear it. Their opponent hadn’t even been fighting in the previous matches. As the reigning champion, he was only required to fight during the last round. “I think our client may be the only person even betting on us, even with a two on one.” By those numbers, it seemed that almost no one had any faith that they were going to win, even despite the victories they’d just pulled in the prior two rounds and the ones before that.

    Frankly, this did not bode well for them. This guy had to be pretty insane to get such high confidence despite being outnumbered by two people that had proven themselves powerful wizards as well as fighters. Win or lose, Serilda had a feeling this final round was going to hurt.

    Much sooner than she really felt like it, they were back in the arena. Last round, she told herself, trying to stay positive. This wasn’t a tournament where death was allowed, so she wasn’t worried for her life, just for her body and her sanity. Her and Mythal were the first in the ring, the announcer giving them their introduction before their opponent was even admitted -- yet another bad sign, when they were clearly setting up a grand entrance.

    “And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for! The man that has astounded and awed you for years, who has been undefeated in this tournament since he first joined it! Your reigning champion: Fire Lord, Argus Rosenthal!”

    Serilda had never heard the crowd so loud before. It was absolutely deafening. The door opposite them in the arena opened and out he walked. He wore a suit of dark armor with a purple robe and a black cloak with a red interior. There was a mask covering his face, leaving only a slit across his eyes that was just big enough to make out how red and inhuman they were. He had a veritable mane of long black hair, and at his hip was a sheathed sword in a gold scabbard. He walked forward confidently to the cheering of the crowd, ignoring them entirely to approach the pair before him. Argus stopped a couple feet away from them and bowed his head respectfully. “I thank you for this fight, and wish you luck.”

    Well, that was… different. None of their previous opponents had been cordial. She chanced only a quick glance at Mythal to convey her surprise before bowing her own head to return the gesture. “Same to you as well.”

    She already had her sword withdrawn, as she had in the last match. Argus left his in the scabbard, which left Serilda unsure as to whether he was being confident or just plain cocky. Given how respectful he’d been just now, however, she was inclined to believe the former. This put her further on edge.

    The only plus side here was that they didn’t really need to strategize anything beforehand. Serilda and Mythal had gone up against single opponents together so many times at this point that they had certain rhythms to fighting together. They knew one another’s strengths and did their best to play them up for each other. Mythal needed to get in close for the majority of his fighting, so Serilda would focus on throwing the man off his guard.

    Reaching into her magic, she forced the air out of the man’s lungs. His eyes widened in surprise and one of his hands went to his throat as he suddenly began to want for air. It was about the only advantage they were going to get, and it didn’t last long. Argus retaliated by showcasing how he’d earned his title. He suddenly burst into flames that stretched high above him and out several feet around him -- enough to burn both herself and Mythal.

    Serilda cried out and shyed back from the flames out of instinct, though not quickly enough to keep herself from being scorched. She quickly put out the couple smaller fires that began to smoulder on her clothes to keep them from growing and incinerating her outfit; the last thing she needed was to wind up fighting naked again, this time in front of thousands of people. He was still having a hard time breathing, thank gods, but that aura of flame was going to be a pain in the ass to work around...

    Words: 6133/8000


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Mythal Ragnos
    Mythal Ragnos

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    Lineage : Heir to Darkness
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    Age : 36
    Mentor : Nessa Cordelia Lux (Former)
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    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Kami No Ken Sutairu O Taosu
    Second Skill: Kingdom Darkness Embodiment
    Third Skill: Soul Stone/Trickster's Illusions

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Mythal Ragnos 25th January 2019, 8:01 pm

    I've been out there and seen the things she's made


    It seemed both he and Serilda had been beaten to pulps, enough that neither one of them could move to get to the other. The God Slayer managed to turn his head enough to look over at her, her body and face bloodied and beaten. But she was still there, breathing and staring back at him. He still couldn’t quite hear anything but the sounds were starting to creep in past whatever barrier had been placed in them. The arena medics were down soon enough to help them both to their feet, giving them just enough healing to get them moving before extracting them. Once they were back in their private room, they were treated by the healing magic; knitting their wounds together once more and removing the ailments. Their muscles would surely be sore for days to come, which made the possibility of any awkward interactions over the rest of the weekend pretty slim. At least that was something, right?

    Mythal was sitting on the floor, his back pressed up against the wall, as he tried to meditate his pain away. The Midian monks knew how to constrict and widen the blood flow so that soreness could be treated but it was something he had never truly mastered. He could aid certain parts of his body and then others were never treated to it at all. He sighed but opened his eyes when Serilda spoke up, the crimson orbs wearily glancing towards the Voidwalker. She was pointing at the lacrima screen and he followed her indication, his eyes widening to full height as he read the numbers. The audience had little to no faith in them; all the bets were best suited to be placed on this… Argus Rosenthal.

    “Frankly,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to her. “I’d bet against us two. We just barely survived the last two rounds. If they’re all puttin’ jewel against us that much…” he let out a small sigh and shook his head. “Don’t matter. We’ll follow this through to the end, no matter what.” What other choice did they have? They could, technically, surrender before the final match began but then what was the point of fighting and winning those other bouts? It would be all for naught. At least if they lost, they lost with some dignity and honor. That suited him better than simply giving up.

    After some time that seemed far too soon, they were called for the last match. As they walked in, the crowd was as loud as it had ever been. It was hard to tell if they were cheering the two newbies that had made it this far or if they were incensed in excitement to watch their reigning champion bring low two of the newest challengers. Mythal took a solid minute to look around the moving bodies in the stands, their jubilation practically an energy at this point. He glanced over at Serilda one more time before the announcer swung into the announcement of their names once more. He looked across the field to find… no one there. Had the other guy even come in yet? His answer came a moment later as the lights dimmed and the audience screeched even louder. They were chanting something; two words that melded together so unevenly he couldn’t pick out what it was at first. It wasn’t until the announcer finished his declaration of their opponent’s title that it all made much more sense.

    Fire Lord. It was repeated over and over like a practiced spell and indeed, there were torches on the walls of the coliseum that were now just lighting up. This was a big deal; enough that the entire arena was going wild. He reached back and pulled his sword up and in front of him, prepared for anything now. The door gave out a loud creak and opened, stretching forth its mighty hinges to reveal their opponent. A man that bore a mask of the blackest steel, that covered all of his face and erupted five spikes on its top, almost like a crown. Unearthly eyes stared back at them through the grate, an opening bar between the bottom and top halves for his eyes. He had a long, perfected black cloak that ran over his shoulders and down over his back, the interior a burnt, coppery red. Below that was a purple trench coat with golden buttons running down the interior and a martial arts gi that covered the rest of his bod. A sword was tucked into his sash, buried inside a golden scabbard with a round jewel on its pommel. He walked right up to them without hesitation, both he and Serilda on guard in case he decided to attack. But rather than that, he simply bowed and thanked them for the opportunity to fight, granting them each a word of luck.

    Wow, a moment of respect. That was… strange, considering everyone else had just outright attacked them. He gave the man a curt nod, granting the same respect he showed them. And just like that, it seemed they were ready to battle. Without a word between them, they each prepared to attack in their own way. Serilda, always the crowd controller, reached out and closed off the man’s oxygen, disorienting him and hindering him right off the bat. Now it was Mythal’s turn to hit him hard and fast, proving that they weren’t just pushovers to put over the crowd and champion. But before he could even move, an aura of flames erupted from him that spread out so high and far that it burned his arm right away. He snarled and leapt back, his left arm singed from the flames. He looked at it and shook it, trying to clear away the tingling, hot sensation.

    “Well now we know why he hasn’t been beat. No one can get near ‘em,” Mythal snarled, loud enough for Serilda to hear. He focused magic into his Curse and swung it forward, releasing a wave shadow magic at the man. It soared through the outer flames but then crashed into a new fiery creation that sprang up from his magic. “Son of a bitch…” he grumbled as he pressed the button on his weapon. It unfolded itself, the gears whirring as it took up a new look – that of a scythe. He swung it forward to test it and then focused more magic into it. Then came the swipes that unleashed crystalline forms of his magic, soaring forward through the fire and crashing into the wall of flames he had created. Seven of the shards embedded themselves into the wall and then detonated as Mythal slammed the end of his weapon into the ground.

    There was a brief pause in combat as the smoke swirled around Argus… but then his flames reignited with even more anger than before. The God Slayer was forced back a few more steps, snarling again. “He’ll just keep wearing our magic down until we ain’t got anythin’ to hit him with,” he mumbled. If they tried to run through the flames, they’d be severely burned. Not like they had anything that could quench the thirst of the inferno…

    Though maybe Serilda could create a brief opening for him. His dashed over to the Voidwalker, swinging around behind her without stopping. As he went, he spoke quietly, only loud enough for her to hear. “I have an idea. Distract him and then when you see me goin’ at him, use yer magic to weaken those flames. I don’t need ‘em out – just not enough to burn me to a crisp. Trust me.” Then he was running off to the side, swinging his scythe a few more times to send blades of magical energy at him. His shield continued to move, following the attacks, even as he turned his body to face Serilda but kept his gaze on Mythal. The God Slayer ran down the way, giving himself a lot more room than he would supposedly need. Once he had reached the far wall, he flicked the button on his scythe and turned it back into its sword form.

    “This is gon’ hurt,” He mumbled before he leapt into the air, his body wrapped up in shadow and changing him into his crow form. He flapped his wings aggressively, soaring into the sky as quickly as possible. When he reached a place that was right at the announcer’s box level, he pulled his wings in close and toppled beak over body, dropping limp. His rate of speed increased as gravity took hold of him, yanking him aggressively down towards the earth. He made it look like he was going to impact too until the last possible moment, his wings unfolding and arcing his trajectory back towards Argus. He turned back into Mythal, his magic coursing through his body at such an intense rate that his arms were pale white from the magical magnitude. He boosted his speed further, racing right at the Fire Lord with every bit of magical buffing he could make.

    Argus stood his ground but increased his flames, making them even more unbearable. If his opponent got too close, he would practically be rendered to ash. But just as Mythal was approaching the outer flames, there was a sudden dampening. The air around his flames changed and the inferno lessened, much to his surprise. His eyes widened as Mythal burst through the fire, his right arm back and armored in the gauntlet. With the mixture of speed and strength, the God Slayer’s fist hitting Argus’ chest plate sounded like a massive gong had just been rung. There was a moment of dead air, as the Fire Lord’s armor cracked and began to snap and break all over, somehow connected all throughout. Then he was soaring backwards like a top, his pained yell silencing the crowd. When he hit the wall, he did it with such force that the entire stadium shook.

    Mythal hit the ground almost at the same time, his face, neck and arms covered in soot and mild burns. He was breathing but only one of his eyes was opened, his body unable to move itself. He’d put everything into that attack, in hopes of taking the man out. But the way he was still grunting and the sound of rocks crumbling, he was afraid that wasn’t the case. He only hoped that the punch had been enough to weaken him, that Serilda might be able to finish him off.

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    Let me tell you, they are fear.


    _____________________________________________________________________________________

    Serilda Sinclair
    Serilda Sinclair

    Ice Queen


    Ice Queen

    Developer/GFX Artist- Main Account- Gain An Artifact- Quality Badge Level 1- Quality Badge Level 2- Quality Badge Level 3- God Of Ishgar- Ten Wizard Saint Member- Guild Master- Custom Slayer- God Slayer- Z-Rank- Y-Rank- X-Rank- H-Rank- S-Rank- A-Rank- Wanderer- So Extra- EXP Grinder- Job Creator- Working Together- Forever Solo- Christian Minecraft Server- Teaming Up!- Limited Edition- Hired Help- Unknown Powerhouse- Unknown Legend- Helper- Guild Creator- Achiever- Expert Achiever- Over Achiever- Buddy Buddy- Obligatory Beach Episode- Shipped- Dank Memer- Taskmaster- Richie Rich- Rich- Veteran Level 2- Veteran Level 1- Character History!- Magic Application Approved!- Obtain A Secondary Magic!- Get A Pet!- Character Application Approved!- Complete Your First Job!- Obtain A Lineage!- Join A Faction!- Tertiary Magic- Senior [500]- Novice [250]- 1st Place Event/Contest Winner- X-Mas Event Participant- Motor City Rush- Best GFX Artist Award- Player 
    Lineage : Scion of the Void King
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    Posts : 1447
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    Character Sheet
    First Skill: Voidwalking
    Second Skill: Sword of Wrath
    Third Skill: Cruorthurgy

    King (And Queen) of Fighters Empty Re: King (And Queen) of Fighters

    Post by Serilda Sinclair 27th January 2019, 6:45 am




    "Character counts most when duty calls."




    Mythal was equally burned as Serilda was by the armor’s aura of flames, backing up with her and shaking his arms to quell the stinging in his flesh. Her partner swung his sword and sent a wave of shadows toward the man, but the magic was swallowed by the flames. She frowned while Mythal swore, both of them trying to figure out how to best approach this. Watching carefully as she calculated, Mythal swapped Curse out for its scythe form and tried another attack, which was just as fruitless as the first.

    A new wave of fire exploded around the man, even more hot than the last one. Serilda grimaced and stepped back along with Mythal. “This is going to get old fast,” she grumbled to her partner. She fully agreed with his statement that all Argus had to do was wait for them to use up all their magic at this rate, but it seemed Mythal had an idea. He suggested she weaken the flames, which she could certainly do with one of her spells but it was a spell she didn’t use often while fighting with Mythal because it would affect him too. Still, he seemed keen on doing it and she knew he wouldn’t suggest it if he didn’t think it was their best shot.

    Serilda nodded in understanding and reset her stance. Raising a hand above her head, she focused her magic into the air and used one of her few spells that had a vocal incantation. “Empty Chill!” Constraining the effects of the spell to the battle grounds of the arena so the people in the audience wouldn’t get hurt by it, the air around them suddenly thinned as a vast majority of the oxygen left it. The flames of Argus’ aura died significantly from the lack of fuel, and his breath was made all the more choking by the fact that she was doubly cutting him off from air.

    Mythal switched to his crow transformation and leaped into the air, getting up as high as she could. Serilda had worked with him long enough that she had a feeling about what he was going to try to do, so she prepared herself to be ready to assist him. He was going for a hard hit while the flames were mostly cooled, and she could make sure he hit all the harder. As soon as he transformed back into human form, his fist cocked back and swallowed in his black gauntlet, Serilda took a crucial fraction of a second to warp his fists. Using her tempering spell, she hardened his limbs even further, giving them just a bit more bite.

    Argus looked absolutely shocked by the turn of events, and had almost no time to retaliate before Mythal’s fist slammed into his armor, unleashing a body shaking thump like they’d all been standing near a massive church bell as it had been rung. The man’s armor cracked and broke apart as he went flying across the stadium. Mythal dropped to his knees; he had expended pretty much all of his energy into that one attack in order to get rid of their opponent’s armor so they could get close enough to hit him.

    Or, well, so she could get close enough. He was too wiped to do anymore this fight, she feared, and unfortunately that one strike -- as heinously powerful as it was -- had not been enough to take Argus out entirely. Their opponent struggled back to his feet, still gasping for breath on all fronts. Serilda was at a slight advantage while her Empty Chill spell was active, but it would not last very long. She needed to act quickly.

    Argus withdrew his sword and eyed his opponents with intelligence rather than rage, which made the woman wary. This wasn’t a man that was going to lose himself to arrogance or frustration. It seemed like he was trying to decide whether he wanted to go for the opponent still standing, or take out the one that was almost down for the count while he had an opportunity. With a grunt, he swung his sword at her. Since he was several meters away from her, Serilda could only assume he’d launched a spell of some kind at her, but she felt nothing register on her magical senses. While fire had a physical form, albeit a thin one, heat did not.

    The wave slammed into her and agony surged across her body. She bit off a scream and tightened her jaw, fighting past it as best she could. Her pale skin turned a rosie color from the heat, and sweat began to drip down her face. It was not good that he could use his sword from a distance, particularly if he got it into his mind to use Mythal as bait. Her partner probably wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time.

    Thankfully, the Slayer had made it much easier for her to get close to the man. Shifting the makeup of her own blade, she hardened it like she’d done to Mythal’s fists. Then, she dropped her Dead Space spell. All sound cut out completely in the arena, which heavily disoriented everyone except for herself and Mythal, who had gotten accustomed to the trick by now. Serilda dropped below the ground and out of sight, rushing toward her opponent who turned in circles to try and guess where she would pop back up.

    She managed to get behind him and landed a strike across his back. He stumbled forward only briefly before what could have only been decades of intense physical training kicked his instincts in. In a flash much quicker than any person had a right to do so, Argus reacted by turning and bearing his own sword down on her. Serilda lifted her blade and parried the attack, knocking it to the side and sweeping the weapon up to try and get him on the front. He masterfully brought his own sword back around and deflected her blow, following it with another cut of his own.

    The cut itself had been a feint, however. While she spent her focus engaging him physically, he sent out another wave of heat from his weapon. Serilda screamed from the agony, though the sound got swallowed up by the nothingness of the Dead Space. Well fine, if he was going to utilize magic, she would too -- as long as her Empty Chill was activated, she could cast spells easier anyway.

    Tearing a chunk of ground out of the arena floor behind him, Serilda flicked her free wrist and sent a massive boulder straight for Argus’ back. His only indication that she’d done anything at all was that he could feel the ground beneath his feet tremble as it broke apart. Chancing a glance behind him, his eyes went wide and he quickly dove out of the way. But, Serilda followed him with the rock, using the fingers of her free hand to direct her shots and keep him busy. He desperately focused to fight back against both spell and sword as she combined the two attacks to assault him on two fronts.

    What he didn’t know was that she was working on a third, as well. His sword was an excellent make, and she needed to concentrate on it in order to worm her magic fingers into its nooks and crannies. Her focus on that meant that she wasn’t at her best defensively or offensively, and soon he caught on that she was preparing something else for him -- though he couldn’t tell what. Knowing that it would be prudent to stop her, he chose to ignore the boulder and jump forward to close the distance between them and engage her in close combat, looking to overwhelm her. To an extent it did work because she wound up having to drop the boulder and focus more heavily on her sword play.

    However, she kept her main center of concentration on his weapon, accepting each strike he gave her as sacrifice for what would come. Her efforts paid off, and soon his sword burst apart in his hand, the pieces of it crumbling to the ground at his feet. Argus grasped the air in shock, trying to process the fact that both his armor and his weapon had been destroyed. He had nothing now to protect himself from her.

    Serilda didn’t hesitate. Her scimitar snapped out and sliced him along his shoulder, and then his arm on the way back. He reached forward with his fists, refusing to give up just because he was unarmed, and proceeded to try and brawl with her. It was a choice she respected, wanting to go down swinging. She immediately pushed that sentiment from her mind, knowing that it was foolish to assume this fight was already over. This man hadn’t been the reigning champion for years running without reason.

    Sure enough, he did have some hand to hand training to go along with the rest of his prowess. He wasn’t just a fighter that relied on his weapon and armor to see him through a battle. Serilda couldn’t tell if it was necessarily Midian training or not, but she wasn’t exactly skilled in such techniques to truly be able to recognize them. They seemed different from Mythal’s style, though based on similar movements.

    A fluid counter from him caught her off guard and she found herself weaponless, Moonlight in her opponent’s hand. The sword wasn’t attuned to her in any way so there really wasn’t anything preventing him from being able to use it on her. If he attacked her with it, it would cut her and drain her energy just as much as it would her enemies. Serilda was hardly capable in hand to hand combat outside of very basic techniques, let along going unarmed against an armed opponent.

    This is not good, she thought to herself. She took hold of the scimitar with her magic, hoping to wrest it from his grasp, but Argus held it firmly. He must have been watching the previous battle and knew she could control it with her magic, and preemptively set himself ready to fight such an attempt. Argus took only a moment to adjust his stance to compensate for its weight before he took a swing. Serilda scrambled back, trying to stay out of the way but he just continued in a forward assault. The first strike he would have landed went through her, but a couple after that did land before she finally shot herself up into the sky.

    Serilda hovered over him, angry now that he’d attacked her with her own sword. She stretched both her hands before her and the air around Argus began to stir. A number of small sized cyclones swirled to life in the arena, one directly beneath her opponent, visible only because they picked up the dirt from the ground and sucked it into their currents. They tossed him up into the air and she launched a spike of highly pressurized air at him that rent the flesh on his chest. He fell backward only to land on another whirlwind in the stadium, tossing him back into the air. Over and over this repeated until he finally loosened his grip enough on her sword that she was able to wrench it from him.

    The weapon flew out of his hand and back to hers, where it still dripped with a mixture of both their bloods. Argus fell back to the ground, the cyclones dying out. Serilda could feel exhausting dragging her down. She had used up entirely too much magic just now, casting more spells in a row than she was really used to doing. She needed to end this now, while she still had the strength.

    She hadn’t even noticed that her Dead Space spell had finally lifted, paying no attention to the sounds of the crowd screaming. Positioning herself in the air with the blade of the sword pointed back along her arm, Serilda mirrored Mythal’s move and dropped down on Argus from above. The man got the chance to turn his face just in time to kiss the pommel of the weapon as her body slammed into his, forming a massive crater in the center of the arena. After a moment she wobbled to her knees, and looked at the results through blurred eyes. Argus was out cold.

    They had won.

    Words: 8229/8000


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      Current date/time is 5th November 2024, 6:53 am