(ooc: heyyyyy youuuuss guuuuuuyyss! if anyone remembers me, the cat's back after too long an absence. for all the newbies- WELCOME! anywho down to business: this is an rpg that is largely based on fighting and-for right now- is an experiment of mine on description- more details later. anywho, a large amount will be surrealistic fighting, but by no means does this overshadow the plot or the need for some long runs of plot development. it is set in a time and world unrelated to ours- all you need to know is that there is no machinery, lasers, helicopters, guns, blasters or any combination thereof. there is little magic, as it is rare at least at the rpg's beginning, and a lot of surrealistic fighting. an example which will later turn into my character is written below. please feel free to join in with something pertaining to training set inside the arena- again see the passage below, so as to get all the characters down, until further notice.
thnx again for reading, i hope you enjoy, and i have to say it's good to be back
)
The skyline was unhindered by clouds, the sun shone down brightly upon the fighter, and a wind from the north stirred the dust around his feet. Arid, cold weather pervaded this season in which was being held the competition that brought the youth of not quite twenty years to the rink on which he was standing. In this arena, the boy’s future would be decided by his performance in the fight, for, if he should be one of ten victors, he shall acquire the ability to be schooled by the grandmaster of his nation. This was his chance to achieve what he had always wished for: the position of guardianship of the nation; if he could win the competition, if he could receive the great knowledge that the grandmaster had to offer, he would surely acquire the position. It was only by becoming guardian that the young fighter could learn all that his mind had hungered for since the birth of his- unnatural- abilities only a few years ago. More importantly, it was the only way he could ensure that what happened at that time could never happen again. Yes, this youth would pore his entire heart into these upcoming fights, for he had his dream to obtain. That is why he came to the arena early to train- why he is challenging a squad of three dummies, enchanted to move like men.
The northerly wind settled and the sun cast a long shadow on the ground, the boy’s much shorter than the dummies. The enchanted barrel-chested, blank-faced enigmas were seven feet tall, towering over the youth’s stature of barely over six feet. Their shoulders were wider than most men’s, and their legs were like tree stumps. These arena dummies were known to be tougher than most of the competitors who will join the competition; they were aggressive, and, despite their great stature, extremely quick, prone to breaking the tiled floors in a stomping rampage or cracking the grey stone wall in a whirling barrage of club-like fists. They were clay titans, and they were most absolutely outnumbered.
The whirled their torsos on the clay hips, spinning their fists into a frenzy like a top with two enormous weights, cutting through the air a deep breathy noise. In an instant they lunged at the boy. He crouched and suddenly his tall, proud, almost lanky frame, diminished into tight, drooping stance in which every joint was bent and his head lowered, giving the youth a look of contemplative pain. His hands were outstretched towards the swiftly coming adversaries, the fingers gnarled. In one step the three clay mannequins would be on him; the boy swung his head to the right, and his whole body followed, even more puppet-like than his adversaries. He placed his hands on the ground and flipped backwards, once, twice, three times, each arch growing larger as the dummies drew ever nearer. On the fourth flips, the highest of each, one dummy came under his feet, anticipating gravity to prompt an unfortunate landing. Instead, the north wind softly stirring his long brown hair, the boy flipped once more in the air, his body now rigidly straight. As his feet touched the mannequin’s head, the joints once again began to bend like a puppet whose strings have gone lax; under this landing, the titan crumbled into dust.
The two remaining overshot the youth and whirled past him (he bent backwards, head almost touching the ground, to avoid the barrage of fists), but soon recovered and re-launched themselves. This time the boy’s snakelike neck swerved the head to the left, and again the puppet-like body followed, placing his body between the two coming opponents. As they passed by him, his body still in the air, he swiped inward with his outstretched right leg, tripping the massive body, while wrapping a limp arm about the other’s leg. As the tripped dummy rolled in the dust, the other stopped, but too late. Weaving his body in and out of the legs, up the left arm, and around the head, the boy had confounded the clay titan; as his feet reached the neck, his knees clamped the sides of the massive neck, and the boy rolled backwards. When the dummy smashed the ground head-first, it added its scattered broken-pot remains to the arena’s dusty floor.
The boy still kneeled with a cracked dummy head between his knees, his arms out horizontally, going limp at the elbow, his back arched. Crack the tile floor busted under the weight of a furious blow from the remaining dummy. The dummy head looked up from the dust cloud he had created on the floor to see the boy’s body still intact and falling towards him. The young fighter had positioned his body mid-leap to land directly in front of the clay titan. As he dropped, his body became parallel to the ground, his legs pointing at the marionette.
The following attack occurred very slowly. This was the most basic of the abilities that fighters like this youth wield- to manipulate the laws of nature which rule each other human being: gravity, inertia, etc. Around the boy’s falling body, all became nearly still, except his legs. He kicked up to the titan’s wide neck with a pointed toe once, twice, three times in a triangle, and then, as all things around him slowed almost to a complete and utter stop, both heels gripped the massive neck. The boy did a tight barrel roll mid-air, he arms and legs crossed, the neck between the two legs’ ankles giving way, spinning into dust atop the massive shoulders with a sharp and resounding Crack.
Nature’s laws resumed their power, the enchanted dummy sank headless to his knees, and the tumbled to the ground in a heap of broken mess, and the boy landed from the spin on his right leg and arm. As his left leg and arm touched the ground, he paused in a crawling position. Then he lifted his head, the somewhat long brown strands dangling recklessly over his eyes, and brought his body slowly up into standing. From his legs up, each joint became firm- normal- again.
‘Success,’ he thought.
thnx again for reading, i hope you enjoy, and i have to say it's good to be back
)The skyline was unhindered by clouds, the sun shone down brightly upon the fighter, and a wind from the north stirred the dust around his feet. Arid, cold weather pervaded this season in which was being held the competition that brought the youth of not quite twenty years to the rink on which he was standing. In this arena, the boy’s future would be decided by his performance in the fight, for, if he should be one of ten victors, he shall acquire the ability to be schooled by the grandmaster of his nation. This was his chance to achieve what he had always wished for: the position of guardianship of the nation; if he could win the competition, if he could receive the great knowledge that the grandmaster had to offer, he would surely acquire the position. It was only by becoming guardian that the young fighter could learn all that his mind had hungered for since the birth of his- unnatural- abilities only a few years ago. More importantly, it was the only way he could ensure that what happened at that time could never happen again. Yes, this youth would pore his entire heart into these upcoming fights, for he had his dream to obtain. That is why he came to the arena early to train- why he is challenging a squad of three dummies, enchanted to move like men.
The northerly wind settled and the sun cast a long shadow on the ground, the boy’s much shorter than the dummies. The enchanted barrel-chested, blank-faced enigmas were seven feet tall, towering over the youth’s stature of barely over six feet. Their shoulders were wider than most men’s, and their legs were like tree stumps. These arena dummies were known to be tougher than most of the competitors who will join the competition; they were aggressive, and, despite their great stature, extremely quick, prone to breaking the tiled floors in a stomping rampage or cracking the grey stone wall in a whirling barrage of club-like fists. They were clay titans, and they were most absolutely outnumbered.
The whirled their torsos on the clay hips, spinning their fists into a frenzy like a top with two enormous weights, cutting through the air a deep breathy noise. In an instant they lunged at the boy. He crouched and suddenly his tall, proud, almost lanky frame, diminished into tight, drooping stance in which every joint was bent and his head lowered, giving the youth a look of contemplative pain. His hands were outstretched towards the swiftly coming adversaries, the fingers gnarled. In one step the three clay mannequins would be on him; the boy swung his head to the right, and his whole body followed, even more puppet-like than his adversaries. He placed his hands on the ground and flipped backwards, once, twice, three times, each arch growing larger as the dummies drew ever nearer. On the fourth flips, the highest of each, one dummy came under his feet, anticipating gravity to prompt an unfortunate landing. Instead, the north wind softly stirring his long brown hair, the boy flipped once more in the air, his body now rigidly straight. As his feet touched the mannequin’s head, the joints once again began to bend like a puppet whose strings have gone lax; under this landing, the titan crumbled into dust.
The two remaining overshot the youth and whirled past him (he bent backwards, head almost touching the ground, to avoid the barrage of fists), but soon recovered and re-launched themselves. This time the boy’s snakelike neck swerved the head to the left, and again the puppet-like body followed, placing his body between the two coming opponents. As they passed by him, his body still in the air, he swiped inward with his outstretched right leg, tripping the massive body, while wrapping a limp arm about the other’s leg. As the tripped dummy rolled in the dust, the other stopped, but too late. Weaving his body in and out of the legs, up the left arm, and around the head, the boy had confounded the clay titan; as his feet reached the neck, his knees clamped the sides of the massive neck, and the boy rolled backwards. When the dummy smashed the ground head-first, it added its scattered broken-pot remains to the arena’s dusty floor.
The boy still kneeled with a cracked dummy head between his knees, his arms out horizontally, going limp at the elbow, his back arched. Crack the tile floor busted under the weight of a furious blow from the remaining dummy. The dummy head looked up from the dust cloud he had created on the floor to see the boy’s body still intact and falling towards him. The young fighter had positioned his body mid-leap to land directly in front of the clay titan. As he dropped, his body became parallel to the ground, his legs pointing at the marionette.
The following attack occurred very slowly. This was the most basic of the abilities that fighters like this youth wield- to manipulate the laws of nature which rule each other human being: gravity, inertia, etc. Around the boy’s falling body, all became nearly still, except his legs. He kicked up to the titan’s wide neck with a pointed toe once, twice, three times in a triangle, and then, as all things around him slowed almost to a complete and utter stop, both heels gripped the massive neck. The boy did a tight barrel roll mid-air, he arms and legs crossed, the neck between the two legs’ ankles giving way, spinning into dust atop the massive shoulders with a sharp and resounding Crack.
Nature’s laws resumed their power, the enchanted dummy sank headless to his knees, and the tumbled to the ground in a heap of broken mess, and the boy landed from the spin on his right leg and arm. As his left leg and arm touched the ground, he paused in a crawling position. Then he lifted his head, the somewhat long brown strands dangling recklessly over his eyes, and brought his body slowly up into standing. From his legs up, each joint became firm- normal- again.
‘Success,’ he thought.
late as usual, but I'm kind of confused about this Cheshire, is their weapons? I understand that there is little magic, thats fine, and it seems to be in an arena, but is the fight against the different players? Basically, what does surrealistic mean again? I don't think I've learned that one, 7th grade isn't that big on vocab words. Sorry for the purely OOC post, I will edit and add IC when I get an answer.))
