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New link in the top of page "IRC Chat". |
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| User | Post |
| Cairoi Posts: 1104/3807 |
"Sure."
Cairoi twirled the blades effortlessly in his hands, laughing with each rotation. Each spin made the forceful swoosh through the air, loud and easily focusable on. As Cairoi did this, he expended a small amount of concentration for his Terramorphus, calling on the ground beneath Sean. He focused on shattering the solidity of the pavement into shards of rock, then shooting them upwards at an extreme velocity. The close range of the attack, the distracting blur of the blades, and the velocity of the attack nigh guarantee some moderate lacerations. |
| Sean the Wicked Posts: 21/21 |
OoC: Sorry for the delay on such a short post. I've been busy with my clan the Crimson Battalion, but I'll be sure to stay active in this anyway.
IC: Cracking his neck as his gazed lingered upon the face of his opponent, Sean half-heartedly grinned and spoke, “You are quicker than I thought. Perhaps this game will be more interesting than the last.” The air with which Sean spoke was malevolent and dark, yet the aura surrounding him was nothing but that of a good natured soul, and for this reason alone, he confused high caliber opponents. With their lack of judgment for what he would and wouldn’t do, or what he could and couldn’t do, most became so baffled of strategies, they just laid out into him, which was the biggest mistake one could make in a battle against Sean. As he turned his body so that it would face Cairoi, he noticed that passersby’s had stopped (at a considerable distance away obviously) and became taken in by the sword play. “Let’s give them a show, chien, eh?” He said, waving his sword playfully at Cairoi. |
| Cairoi Posts: 991/3807 |
Cairoi watches his enemy with a light-hearted face. The fires in his enemie's hand gave him indication to prep himself to dodge. When his enemy lunged at him, he jumped into the air. He did a skillful front flip and landed softly 10ft from where his enemy stood. He turned around and began taking his gloves off. Laughs escaped from him heartily as he did so.
"It's Kay-roy, man. Cairoi." He had an American accent as well, more than likely his many years spent there responsible. He threw his gloves to the far right of the field with a flick of the arm, and revealed the cross-shaped scars on the back of his hands. His smile was warming as he extended his hands toward his enemy, which caused his sword to twitch as it leaned against the fountain. It flashed white and flew at Cairoi, splitting into two swords. It was no longer one broadsword with both evil and holy energy resting within, but now two identical blades, one with holy energy and one with dark. They were Midi and Minuit, two jagged longswords of an obsidian color and a deadly bite. Cairoi spun the blades in each of his hands before stopping and taking stance. He stood straight, his left side facing Sean. "My time's up? Well then, guess we're going into overtime." |
| Sean the Wicked Posts: 20/21 |
OoC: The character I’m using for this battle is up on my website, so check him out if you like. He took me a long time, so I hope he works well. Again, sorry about these delays, Anfiniti was having a change of hosts and that’s why it was down.
IC: The doors of the Parisian home shot off its hinges as the frail and lifeless body of a middle aged man broke through. Clack. Clack. Clack. Stop. A cloaked man stood adjacent to the man’s body, waiting, just simply...waiting. A light breeze blew through the alleyway and the hood of the cloaked man fell back, and regarding this as a time for change, he allowed the garment to fall completely away, revealing this true form. Long and matted brown hair sat loftily upon his shoulders, of which were a pale white tone, like that of his face, accenting the hazel eyes he had grown so attached to. Ah, the man stirred, a ghastly figure arose from the corpse: translucent and tearful. “It was your time.” The previously cloaked man said, “So be it.” The corpse’s ghost replied, and transpired to the beyond. The man sighed contently as he sat down in the Paris square, a bench next to a beautiful fountain. Holding in his hands a pen and piece of parchment, he looked over it a few times, jabbed it once or twice, and then folded it up and put it away. Gazing up at the sky, he never noticed the fact that people were walking by cursing him, or glaring, or staring at him weird, or some combination; actually, he was lucky he didn’t get arrested, dressed as he was. The odd getup he had on today consisted of a top more suited for a woman (exposed his stomach and lower back) and tight jeans, and as of a few seconds ago, his hair was now in a ponytail. “Cairoi...” He said aloud, probably mispronouncing the name horribly, slaughtering it with his Americanized accent. Cairoi was the last person on his list for the day, but he was there for a reason, supposedly the most dangerous assignment up to date, but he was pretty apathetic about the entire scenario so far. Yawning as he put the paper away and stood, stretching lightly, he made his way to the other side of the fountain and began to head towards the innards of the city...when suddenly... “What’s this?” Sean said, bewildered, as an overwhelming sense of power hit him from behind. Turning without hesitation, his eyes found Cairoi rising from his seat, “Bonjour monsieur.” He said, realizing Sean was approaching him. Stopping at a considerable distance, Sean raised an eyebrow, running through the details and specs in his head, there was no doubt about it: this was the guy. Taking a breath, Sean’s arm extended and his fingers snapped, causing a sudden spark and a burst of flames to envelope his hand, and within seconds, his Wakizashi appeared in hand. “Cairoi. Your time is up.” He said, lunging towards his opponent. |
| Cairoi Posts: 950/3807 |
The lovely streets are a sightseeing smorgasboard here in grand ol' Paris. They are a monument to it's cultral sophistication and maturity, showing a nation with an immortal impression on the world.
The air in the city has a fragrance and taste, and the warm city lights warm the heart. The streets are paved with polished cobblestone, and the buildings are like towering trees, edifices of the urban jungle. A marvelous place to see, to live...and to fight. In the Le Bois de Boulogne, Cairoi sat with patience, listening for his enemy. The lovely scenery made this area a favorite of his throughout the eras, and he was not above sleeping in the trees. As the city slept about them, their electronic lanterns melting the darkness, Cairoi eagerly awaited a fated battle with his new accomplice. He knew that it would shake the foundations of the city, but it was also second nature to counter with the fact that overpopulation was a concern of the population. He wore a black trenchcoat, kept in rather good shape for the amount of weathering it took. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows neatly, to keep them in that position. The collars were medium length but kept down. He wore underneath his trenchchoat clothes of a similar hue. He wore a black t-shirt and pants, but these items of clothing seemingly reflected no light. It gave the agile eye the indication of magic. He also wore on his person black gloves with the fingers cut off, the actual glove going up 1/3 the distance to his elbow. His black boots had hard rubber bottoms, giving him extra traction. His long brown hair was kept in suprisingly good condition today. the back was kept in a ponytail, and the front had naught but a few stray bangs dangling before his face and jade eyes. His smirk was not encased in his normal 5 o' clock shadow, or any stray hairs at all. Next to him on the fountain he rested was his obsidian-colored blade, Diosu. It's jagged edges curled and twisted, but it remeained violently sharp, though Cairoi never physically sharpened it. This, too, was a mystery to those who knew him, but no one dared bring it up with him. He didn't like to talk about himself. He noticed a figure edging closer and stood up from the stone fountain. This was it, this thought racing in his mind. "Bonjour, monsieur." |
