The Lord versus The Lady

[Ezio Auditore]

Arena: Flowing green meadows, the wind is gentle as it crosses your face, barely blowing your clothes as it flows past. The grass is long and gentle as your brush your hands through it's green, soft velvety material. In the distance, barely a few miles away is a large hill, from afar it appears to be a normal hill, however, up close you notice that it in fact made of a soft of green but smooth crystal. It is warm under your touch and as you punch it with your fist it shatters easily, revealing a sort of green liquid underneath. You dip the end of a stick into the liquid and find that it is in fact acid. Everything around the hill is just plain, no trees and no animals, just grass.

Battle Start!

 

[Dean Winchester]

(OOC: I have a test on Wednesday, so I'll try to post often)

An ominous wind begins to flood the atmosphere as a malicious figure of a tall man makes his appearance, emerging from a dense fog that gathered in the distance. As the shadowy figure began to distance itself from the fog, his appearance began to become clearer. A pair of black boots with plates covering the area of the toes and ankle was the first to be seen, stomping with heavy steps the ever green blades of grass of the beautiful –yet solitary– field. Later on, the fog began to reveal light tanned man with both of his eyes different in colour; his left eye was emerald light green and his right eye completely jet black. The man’s name was Julius Aurelianus Tenebrae.

He was wearing his brunette hair at shoulder length, split on the middle and left loose at the sides. The man was wearing a black leather coat that reaches the level of his calves, with silver buttons engraved with a lion’s head decorating it. The coat also has the image of a silver cross on the right sleeve, which starts at shoulder length and ends right at the wrist (The coat has several pockets in which Julius keeps small items such as rings, pendants, or keys). He wears a pair of dark brown deerskin fingerless gloves with a thin (1/8 of an inch) metal plate on top of the back of his hand which shifts to his knuckles when he tightens his fists. His coat also has two metallic pauldrons (shoulder pads) which are attached to his coat with screws. The pauldrons have small orifices (three per pauldron) right where the arm joins with the upper part of the torso. Julius’s coat also has small, diamond shaped elbow pads made with a flexible yet durable material and covered with thin steel plates.

Underneath his trench coat, Julius wears a battle hardened breastplate which covers most vital points, mainly the heart. He also wears a reddish turtle neck vest beneath the breastplate, with leather wrapped in the form of an “X” across his chest. He also is seen using black leather pants held with a dark brown leather belt that has a lion’s head plate like emblem on the middle. He is also wearing a silver chain necklace which bears a sword shaped insignia, and a silver ring engraved with arcane runes and a red gemstone embedded on the ring.

Julius is seen armed with a long sword fashioned after a rapier with a full length of 4 feet and 6 inches from the tip of the blade to the opposite side, the pommel. The sword is double edged, and it weights around 9 pounds, and it was forged as full tang, consisting of a single 4 feet 4 inches metal piece (the pommel adds the extra 2 inches to the full length). The tang goes full through the grip and threaded the end for screwing on a pommel. The pommel is shaped in the shape of a sphere, weighting about 4 pounds to add as a counter balance of the remaining 5 pounds that make up the rest of the blade. Immediately follows the grip of the sword, which was made by attaching two iron thin plates and covered by wood and wrapped with a layer of leather. The leather used in the construction of the blade was kept underwater for about 2 hours and then wrapped tightly around the grip. Following up to the hilt lies a 6 inches long cross guard, which has several rings that extend forward from the cross guard piece and knuckle bows that would wrap around the wielder’s hand (or hands of used with both hands) that resemblance several “dragon” like wings. On the very center of the cross guard, at both sides of the blade, lays embedded a crimson stone said to have magical properties such as engulfing the blade with either flames or lightning (refer to Skills Section for more details).

After the cross guard lays the ricasso, or shoulder of the sword which extends up to 6 inches forward. On the surface of the ricasso, there are two mysterious symbols engraved at both sides rumoured to have been ancient runes for protection and magic. The full hilt is dark red, being the grip the only exception with its colour being brown. After that, we have the section between the ricasso and the Center of Balance, the forte, which is extremely sharp. The blade in general measures about 3 inches from one side of the edge to the other and about 1 inch wide. Lastly we have the part between the Center of Percussion and the point called the foible, which is slightly less sharp than the forte. This full part is shaped after an Isosceles Triangle, so if we were to draw this triangle on top of the section of the Center of Percussion, the foible, and the point, the triangle would have a base of 2 inches while the other two sides would be around 4 inches long. The sword is left sheathed in a scabbard that is tied to his waist belt. Having reached the mysterious hill at the very center, Julius had noticed that the surface of the hill seemed to be as no other. The hill shockingly began to resemblance a giant emerald embedded on the terrain. Odd enough, underneath the transparent surface, an unknown fluid flowed inside of it. Curious, Julius reached the hilt of his sword with his right hand and drew his weapon, striking the surface of the crystal and gashing a deep cut on its surface. Julius then sheathed his weapon, catching up a nearby pebble and, as he tossed it to the liquid, Julius witnessed how the fluid scorched the stone.

Amused, Julius grinned and sighed, realizing the irony of fate for granting a battle in such a treacherous battlefield. Julius gazed upon the emptiness of the silent and grim scenario that lay before him, and with a hollow cold stare he fixed his eyes on the solid blue sky. The above heavens were almost cloudless, with mere patches of white clouds moving swiftly as the gusts dragged them to the east, the point from which he had emerged. He breathed, slowly, and exhaled similarly, almost as if he did not had the slightest ounce of interest of being isolated in this forsaken land. Lips tightly sealed, face almost expressionless, the only thing that flamed inside his eyes was the vast and deepening hollowness of his soul. He tightened is fist, and then he opened them, leaving his hands open and his fingers loosen.

The wind whistled by his ear, catching his brunette hair and making it wave elegantly. Impervious to the scenario before him, Julius awaited patiently for his fated encounter to occur…

 

[Saga]

Wisps of wind, barely even enough to stir the stray strands of deep crimson hair that had drifted across the young girl’s pale face, felt like soft fingers trailing across her skin. Xiong suppressed a shudder at the sensation, her eyes closed to the heavens, head held proud. Her skirt caught a slight updraft, brushing against her thigh as the Warrior let out a gentle sigh that was immediately lost upon the breeze. Slender fingers tugged at the dark belt at her waist, nervously playing with the leather strap as the girl swallowed the anxious lump that had suddenly formed in the depths of her throat, threatening to push upwards into her mouth. Claret would not allow her nerves to get the better of her; her stubborn streak coursing through her like livewire.

A booted foot lifted from the ground, hand moving to scratch at an itch upon her heel before hitting the dirt beneath her feet with an almost soundless thump. Her other hand moved, resting at her wrist, tugging the glove tighter and firmer onto her delicate hand as another sigh, heavier than the last, broke past her cherry coloured lips. Teeth caught plump flesh, releasing very slowly as the Dragon Warrior brought both arms to her sides, deep sapphire eyes finally opening to the brilliant blue sky. That radiant turquoise reflected against her much darker blue irises, lighting them with a soft, cerulean glow as a gentle smile furled the very corners of her mouth.

Pale tanned skin shimmered as the lean woman took a step forward, curling fingers around the folded fan held securely in the loop at her belt. Deep eyes alighted upon the emerald mound, a sparkle of curiosity flashing as her steps took her gradually closer and closer to it. She came to it on the northern face, pace increasing until her outstretched fingertips came to rest upon its surface. It was then that Claret realised it was not any ordinary hill as she had initially thought, but something far more intriguing.

Warm to the touch, the pale green crystal surface felt almost slick beneath the warrior’s fingers and she slid them across it, relishing the ease to which her skin flowed across it. A sudden thought struck her and Xiong balled her fist tightly, bringing it down upon the glossy surface. There was a crack as it connected, a blossoming of aching pain across her knuckles as the crystal split beneath, shattered shards erupting around her hand. The liquid beneath flowed forth slightly, spilling from the wound inflicted upon its container, hissing as it trickled to the soft blades of grass at Claret’s feet.

Alarmed, the young girl took a leaping step backwards, watching as the acid ate away the blades, burning into the earth beneath, charring it black. She felt the knot return to her throat and swallowed it with an audible gulp, eyes darting all around her, finding nothing but an endless terrain of green. Ohh… this doesn’t look too good, she thought, biting her lip as a sly gust of wind caused her flaming red hair to flutter slightly. It was only then that Claret noticed...

She was not alone.

 

[Dean Winchester]

The wind became silent as the man eagerly awaited for his fated encounter; small threads of brunette hair fell over his vivacious dual coloured eyes as he suddenly realized in awe that his so destined adversary had just arrived and more intriguing, she was alone. His arms crossed over his chest, Julius paid little attention to her companion and in disgust, and he gave a scornful look to them. Julius then unfolded his arms and turned to meet his opponents face to face. With his tongue, he began to caress his lower lip almost as if he mimicking someone who is flavoring a delicious meal; this done in an attempt to mock Claret.

Julius then smirked; his arms left hanging loosely as he arched his left eyebrow with an intrigued look in his hollow eyes. The Crownless King’s chest contracted and expanded as his lungs took breathed air in and out; the glimmering lights of a fading sun were reflected on the polished surface of the steel plated breastplate. As time progressed, the fog from which Julius came began to spread all over their surroundings, leaving only visible the terrain that composed the crystallized structure on which Julius was standing. Julius soon began to inspect his adversary, running all over her body with his gaze staring at her from sole to crown. The smooth skin, the thin desirable lips, the innocent blue eyes, the breasts, her curves…all of her essence became to be known easily. Soon after, Julius closed his eyes and curved his neck back, raising his chin and putting his nose high, almost as if he were trying to catch the fragrance of Cleret’s body. The fallen monarch inhaled and exhaled moderately, and after brief moments he smiled.

Julius’s eyelids began to unleash the empty flame of the irises they concealed as he lowered his gaze to look upon Cleret. He looked at her with envy, seeming that he used to love someone so similar to her and, due to his lack of self control; he alone allowed his power to consume him and shattered his own relationship. Bitter by the loss of love with no fruition, Julius only learnt to know the solitary and absinthian road to egoism and narcissism.

Julius’s eyebrows frowned, as his once motionless face suffered from a drastic alteration of his emotional state. His right hand then slowly approached his sheathed sword; his dexterous fingers began to coil around the handle of his weapon. Patiently, the sword was pulled from the scabbard attached to his black leather belt, and swung to the right, left to hang from Julius’s right hand. The gripped tightened as he once again reverted to his usual expressionless facial expression. Knowing the human heart very well whilst having a vast comprehension of the human emotions, it was evident that Julius would rather make his opponents beg for mercy upon being barraged with a non-stopping mental assault.

Then the memories, the hostile and painful flashbacks soared before his eyes. Memories of how much joy he had when loving someone regardless of knowing that someone would not love him back. It was her, the one in his dreams, his thoughts, and the memory of the woman who produced his heart to beat wildly with happiness. Julius began to bite his lips as his free left hand closed tightly. He saw that same happiness in Cleret’s eyes, and his envious soul just sought to choke the life out of that innocence, to swallow all light within darkness. A single tear was produced by his left eye; the glittering drop of sorrow and jealousy fell all over his cheek and landed on his clothes.

Spitefully, Julius lifted his sword and with disdain he aimed the tip of his defiant blade towards Cleret. His eyes showed neither joy, nor hate; Julius was once again lost in the vast emptiness of his demented mind, deluded by false illusions of grandeur and self glorification. The energy began to burst through his veins, fueling his blood with adrenaline and madness.

As his lips slowly began to unseal themselves, the poisonous tongue held captive prepared to spit the first ounces of his venomous words; preparing to launch carefully thought phrases intended to hurt the deepest of feelings.

“I smell your fear, your anguish…I taste your innocence, your beauty…I flavor your hopes, your dreams…I see your delusion, your lies…ah how I abhor you…damned angel”

Julius said addressing to Cleret with disgust as he paused between sentences, as if he were slightly gasping for air when in reality he was containing the surge of madness arousing inside of him.

“Beauty is the greatest of devils…of which I have been a victim. I never wished to be like this, but what other choice might I have had other than to recur to rage? None, for hatred lasts longer than love…and at least, when you are alone no one hurts you.” The bitter tyrant continued his monologue as he gestured with his left hand, exaggerating his emotions and expressions.

The lord halted his speech, grasping the time in his hands and meditating for a moment. Julius then suspired as he continued “The only problem of walking the same path as I is that you grow so used to hatred and anger that it leaves you empty. So Cleret…” The swordsman lowered his gaze and fixed his eyes on the glass surface.

“Are you willing to save me? Will you become an assassin just to satisfy your lust for victory? Will you lionize me and grant me martyrdom by becoming the demonized anger of death? If so…in the end we are not different. But who truly knows what is right and what is wrong when we are mere puppets of emotions!? The Crownless King voiced out vivaciously as he inhaled and exhaled hastily.

“Even someone who follows the path of rage is a mere instrument of human feelings, hence why I wish to pursue now the path of emptiness. To become a hollow shell, an unbiased judge and jury. But enough of derailed conversations! You are me, and I am you. We have come for the same purpose, and that is to engage… in battle of course…” Julius then elevated his sight and gazed upon Cleret once more. Sighing, he commented -“Hmm who knows…maybe in some other time I may have opted to choose my lips rather than a sword to disable your defenses…because I must admit…you have a beautiful mouth. If your lips are a sin… oh how I would have let myself to be baptized in damnation for giving into such an irresistible sin. Oh my, how have I given into lust…but enough talk! On guard my executioner! Stand up my angel of death. Let us dance the waltz of demise!” The flirty prince finalized with shocking, statements as he prepared to fight Cleret.

 

[Saga]

Brilliantly blue eyes rose to meet the dichromatic duo bore by Claret Xiong’s challenger. The female warrior kept her expression placid as she watched him drag his tongue along his lower lip, despite the urge to grimace at the motion. Brows furrowed very slightly at the man as her head tilted an inch to the right, piercing eyes watching him with a curious gleam echoing deep within. This man… was not someone Claret could underestimate. The way he held himself spoke volumes about the type of challenge he might give her, the strength he could possess. Claret was used to well-built men, but there was something chillingly intimidating about the one now before her.

She locked her eyes with his; a shudder running the length of her spine at the feeling they gave her. Cold, such cold eyes, devoid of all those emotions Claret associated with being human. Such a chilling stare, Xiong almost felt as though he could see right to the very core of her soul and in that instance, she felt violated. Her soul, her very being and the essence that made her what she was… it all felt laid bare under this man’s bicoloured gaze. Claret’s eyes never left the man as his own checked her over. Again that feeling of complete nakedness washed over her, leaving her feeling vulnerable and cold to the touch; something she discovered as she folded her arms in an attempt to protect herself. Only a small respite as he removed his hollow eyes from her but she grasped it, took a silent, but deep breath of air as she tried to cleanse herself of that awful, defective feeling. The Dragon Warrior loathed the way this man looked upon her form. The way his eyes bore into her… how could she feel pure and whole now that such a man had glanced upon her?

A small jolt surged through the girl’s body as a sword was drawn and startled eyes followed its path to the man’s right. Taking a steadying breath, a small knot forming in her throat, Claret turned her face up once more to gaze at him. Her brows furrowed deeper, more in confusion than anything. Just who was this swordsman? But she knew asking herself would yield no answers and so she waited, arms tight across her chest, fingers of her left hand toying anxiously with the fan at her waist.

How much safer she’d feel if only she was here. Oh, how much more at ease the Warrior would feel it if was not just herself facing this monster of a man with his dirty eyes. Lips grew taut at the thoughts of the girl, the one who used the art of archery with deadly results. It hadn’t been that long since Claret had lost her, surely? She could no longer remember. These memories… they would only serve to make her weak. Such weakness at this point could prove disastrous. Whilst she longed for her friend to be at her side, bow drawn, Xiong pushed her firmly from her thoughts. A true warrior was what Claret saw herself as now. She was alone in this world… just like she had been born into it. Heaven be damned if she was going to fail here, not now!

An obstinate look flashed in Claret’s pool like eyes as the man pointed his blade towards her and an all too familiar sensation flowered upon the girl’s lightly tanned cheeks. The initial flush of pink was a mere warning to the hot-blood surging through her veins, pumping with every terrified thump of her heart. Oh how truly frightened she was, but Claret was not going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing her intimidated. Her opponent embodied everything she abhorred in the opposite gender. He came off as proud, too proud, something Xiong found to be repulsive. There was also something else… though the girl could not quite place her finger on what it was. Yet she got the feeling this man would love to see the intense fear that was churning her stomach. The Warrior, however, was reckless and even in the face of such terror, would never back down.

In the instant Xiong decided she would speak, the man’s voice echoed towards her, venom in his tone so poisonous that she almost buckled beneath the psychological weight of the words hurled towards her. Apprehension dawned upon Claret’s delicate face as each syllable hit her like a bullet, piercing her mentally until she felt certain this swordsman could see right into her mind as though she was some sort of holey sieve of human thought. Xiong held no delusion… surely? A fierce grimace of hatred pulled her usually pretty face into an expression worn only by the most animalistic of fighters. The deformed expression was quickly warped back into one of calm serenity, her eyes only betraying the sudden inferno of anger that was broiling at her core. Typically calm blue eyes danced with searing fury at this man who saw her as a damned angel.

She wished he would finish, that his cruel and yet seductive words would stop. Claret was drawn to his tones, the way his voice rose and fell. Music… it reminded her of a… a dirge of the damned. How she wanted to drag herself away from it’s alluring melody, but she could not. Xiong was lost to him, fear unlike that she had ever felt before welling in her stomach. The anger remained, bubbling like a volcano, only increasing the more she lost her senses to this cruel shell of a human. For whilst her mind was seduced, her instincts were not and it was only these that prevented her from stepping before him and kneeling like some miserable servant before their arrogant master. Never had the warrior felt so strongly the urge to succumb to something as simple as words.

The girl heard her name and obediently her face lifted towards his. Again, words so filled with dark seduction washed over her, tones of the deepest desire a human could give. At least, that is what fell upon Xiong’s ears at least. Claret Xiong, The Dragon Warrior, was a pure soul untainted by the touch of man; and yet, here she was, laid naked and open like an innocent flower awaiting the bee to pollinate it. No longer would she think of herself as clean for this swordsman, whoever he was, had polluted her with his gaze and intoxicated her with his voice.

Sin. Exactly what was sin? What did the human mind truly class as a mortal sin? Was something as trivial as sin so easy to define? Claret mused over this thought for a moment, face scrunched in thought as the swordsman finally finished his speech. Now the talking had ended, she did not feel so helpless and that seething wrath at the pit of her stomach swelled, exploded through her body as finally she flipped the twin fans from their holding slings. Head tilted to one side, she surveyed the man before her through bloodthirsty eyes.

“Your tongue is poison, swordsman,” she hissed, teeth grating as she spoke. “You speak naught but lies and deceit! You almost had me… I’ll admit…” a small smirk quirked the corner of her mouth. “And though my senses seek to betray me, I shall destroy you before you can intoxicate me further.” Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Claret laughed softly at that thought as the crimson fan flicked open, golden dragon crest blazing beneath the natural light. “We shall dance… but it shall be your demise, and not mine.” Her final word was punctuated by the snapping of the black fan as she flicked her wrist. Claret’s body flowed gracefully towards the ground, strong legs spread either side of her, angry eyes fixed upon her opponent. “With a bark like yours, surely you know how to bite.”

 

[Dean Winchester]

The man clearly had shown little remorse in mentally deflowering the innocence of his female adversary; the virginal woman seemed clearly affected by the viper’s venom as the words sank deep into her mind like the fangs of a serpent digging into the tender flesh. Long he had sought the experience of returning the humiliation he had felt once, and given that the chance lay before his very, bicolored, gleaming eyes, the poisonous fiend was not willing to let this opportunity slip through his grasp. The man leaned his head to his right, the voluminous brunette hair followed with the silky threads resting upon his right shoulder. As the fallen monarch’s dichromatic sight deprived Cleret and her beauty of its former innocence, the man felt himself nourished by the stench of fear and hatred that emanated from the pores of her smooth Caucasian skin, almost as if he were enjoying an aphrodisiac. Of course, her angelic appearance could not be denied however; Julius was not willing to allow himself to be deceived and victimized by Cleret’s attractiveness.

Julius’s delusive smiled followed, as the monarch’s cold stare attempted to portray innocence and playfulness through the hailing blue light glistening from within his irises. He then saw his adversary drawing a fan like weapons and in awe, Julius sighed seductively, tilting his neck back to a straight position with his hair following and landing on top of his back. Little did he knew that, just like Cleret, he was slowly succumbing to his own desires, betraying the oath of bitterness and emotionless he so wished to portray.

Julius heart beat increased, the rhythm of his pulse becoming wild and unbound. He sought and sought for moments the reason, the emotion, which triggered the desire he was experimenting. Cleret was nothing out of the extraordinaire despite her unquestionable physical enchantment, yet there was something in that profound, chaste bluish gaze which felt so alluring. Something within her reminded Julius the memories of that lost love, being this mere comparison a slight source of weakness in the monarch’s mind. Julius felt disgust, his lips tightened as his facial expression became less kind and more aggressive. Still, he haltingly reversed to the dazed stare, feeling infected by this viral attraction. The man shook his head from left to right, trying to rid himself of the impure thoughts that were taking over him.

For an instant, he remained silent as his adversary replied with quite an unrestrained animosity, a thing which began to amuse him and empower his lust. Julius soon began to avoid the woman’s stare, trying to pretend indifference to her charming beauty and instead, he focused his thoughts on the emerald green fluids being held captive by the crystallized surface. Evidently, this was an effete attempt to strike Cleret in her woman pride.

“First my dear, the name of your muse is Julius and second, you are not that beautiful. In fact, you might be this kind of angel face who wishes to delude men and toy with them as if we were part of some sort of sick game. What you feel now is a mere assault to your pride, having experienced the disgrace I had endured firsthand. Now the roles are reversed, ironically, and the seducer has become seduced. Oh woe me! How I am treated so harshly by this angelical fiend…” Julius continued his usual soliloquy as he endeavored to break her already weakened emotional state. The schemer’s left hand was placed on the breastplate covering his chest, as if he were mimicking a heart ache. “Amusing…really…” The man then lowered his left arm and gave out a faint laugh, obviously wishing to continue the mockery.

“Let me propose you something: If you lose, you shall become my bride…and if I am defeated, then I shall become your slave. Of course, either way I win for the fate will grant me the honor of holding you within my delicate embrace. In the end, all I wish…is a kiss…” Julius voiced melodiously, almost gorgeously as his eyes were partially covered by his eyelids. His gaze now seemed more provocative rather than annoyed.

As an angel of delusion, Julius extended his left hand forward almost as if he were waiting for her to grab his hand in order to be pulled to his chest and have her body folded by his tender arms. Seeing no action, the viper lowered his left arm and subsequently, the man withdrew his weapon, sheathing it back in the scabbard as he slowly, yet defiantly, approached the ferocious female. As he became nearer, the essence of his perfume would become more and more imposing, acting as another weapon of seduction.

Soon enough, he was within Cleret’s range, standing firmly before her, meeting eye to eye. He passed his tongue from left to right, moistening his lips, imagining how he would taste her sweet and fascinating mouth. He leaned his neck forward, becoming threateningly and dangerously close to her face, only being separated by the fans she held. “All…I want…is a kiss…is it so hard to grant my humble request?” Julius whispered slowly as he locked his eyes on the oceanic beauty and purity held captive within Cleret’s eyes. Now, what will be her reaction?

 

[Dean Winchester]

D'awwww come on! Let's continue this even if the tournament is over. Please?

 

[AlchemistFox]

I dont see why not.
Ill postpone the judging of it, so we can get at least SOME battling in here ^^

Not sure how long I will let it go on for, but I might just break in with a sudden judging or something ^^

So, sure thing, you may continue this battle for a little while.
GET TO FOOKING BATTLING ALREADY! ^^

 

[Saga]

Righto. Gimme a little time to just sort other things out first. I'll hopefully post by the end of the weekend. =3

Even if you do jump in and judge Fox, we can still just finish it off afterwards, just for personal fulfillment etc. xD

 

[AlchemistFox]

Yep, for all that I care, even after the "judgment" has fallen, you can just "convert" it to a RPB instead of a tournament fight, so carry on then.

I look forward to reading some actual fighting ^^

 

[Dean Winchester]

Then after this battle has been finished, how about doing a fatal three-away battle?