Duelists: Centrus, Shenmock
Field: "Coliseum, empty stands crumbling away around us. A ten foot wall separates us from the seats. 25 feet in diameter to keep things close, with a six inch deep gash in the middle that has been filled with a little rain water."
Item Restrictions: No Items Permitted
Equipment Restrictions: none

Let's fight clean, gentlemen.
*rings bell*

The eternal sunset of Mac Anu slowly made its way down the horizon, casting an imminent glow over the river. Few players tended to watch the sun go down in Mac Anu, but some players enjoyed looking at its beauty. The new Fist Fighter by the name of Shenmock was one of the few who looked at it and where might be a better spot than a building top. His legs hung over the building, swinging back and forth as he usually did when he looked at the sunset. He usually came here on weekends to look at its beauty, but not a lot. His mind was a bit troubled, though, as he stared at the glowing sunset. Why had he challenged Centrus to a duel like that? He knew that he really hadn’t exactly won that first time and the second time, well, he didn’t exactly count that because he hadn’t exactly fought with Centrus. The Fist Fighter wanted a real fight where they could actually finish it without any interference with time or computer bugs or anything else. He knew that he didn’t exactly have a huge chance of winning the match, but maybe a bit of practice as a Fist Fighter would do him good. Centrus was the only other Fist Fighter he knew other than that person named Silk. He didn’t really know that guy as much.

Maybe he should’ve known Centrus better since he was in the Eventide Crescendo. Every time there seemed to be a need for something, he was one of the two people there, either helping Nemera or doing something else. He didn’t really know what had happened when the Fist Fighter had been teleported out of the field at a random point in time. It was probably some computer error; those pretty much sucked. Shenmock let out a soft laugh. Maybe he’d learn something from this fight, a move or two about fighting. Centrus was skilled and skilled people tended to teach unskilled people some good skills. That was a lot of skills. The Fist Fighter got up. The match would be starting soon and he didn’t want to be late. Maybe Centrus would be late for his match…maybe. The Fist Fighter slid down the metal ladder and landed gently on the ground. He slowly walked out of the alleyway and into the crowd. There were still as many people. When were people going to stop playing this game? Seriously. He walked on light feet up the steps and to the Chaos Gate. They’d be going to a coliseum for the battle, huh? Golden rings materialized around him and descended, dematerializing his character and leaving only golden dust in its midst. Time for a duel.

The Fist Fighter hadn’t exactly had a good dueling history. He had only fought Baron and Centrus (he counted Hacorie’s match really not much of one because he couldn’t land a hit on the Heavy Blade) and he hadn’t really won any of them. He frowned as golden rings descended on one side of the coliseum. The Fist Fighter would be there soon enough, but in the meantime, he’d just have to wait. He looked over the equipment he had chosen. It was good enough. He flinched as his opponent came into the field. He remembered the smiling face of the Fist Fighter. He was always so cheerful, even in battle. He wasn’t really a fan of happy-go-lucky people, but then again, this guy was the exception because he wasn’t annoying like most of the people. The Fist Fighter didn’t make a move to make his move, but waited almost a full minute before he even moved another muscle.

”So, Centrus? Are you ready for a good full match this time? I wish the best of luck to you.” With that, he raised his fists, prepared for the fight.

He laughed softly. He was in a good mood today, it seemed. He charged on light feet, glad for the speed boost that he had gotten when he had changed classes. He knew it was probably the simplest attack right now, but what else could he do but this? The Fist Fighter leaped into the air, cloak billowing in the soft breeze and his hair sweeping around his head, already starting to spin in a three sixty spin. His right foot was brought forward in the form of a roundhouse kick aimed at the Fist Fighter’s chest. Shenmock could only hope that he could land a hit on his first try, but who knew? This guy was fast and obviously more of a challenge than Baron. He could only hope…

SP: 90/90

The sun set in the Theta Server, and a Fist Fighter sighed in relief. Today seemed to be a good day. Centrus had accomplished much of what he had set out to do, with the exception of one critical thing. A young player, an opponent he had dealt with before, desired a rematch. Shenmock, quite the resourceful man, had recently class changed to Fist Fighter. Cent didn’t know if this had anything to do with why a rematch might be desired, but it was definitely interesting information. This meant that the one real advantage that Shenny had gained over the silver-haired man, reach, was now gone. This could be interesting.

As a timer beeped at him though the sounds of The World, Cent gathered himself to his feet. As he made his way to the Chaos Gate, he couldn’t help but make a quick stop. Swinging by the Grunty Stable, he pulled his usual fast one on the NPC and kidnapped his Grunty. Duke oink!ed a squeal of approval and glee, and the two set off for their next destination. Selecting “Arena” on the Chaos Gate menu, the Fist Fighter let loose a small smile as the triplets that were the warp rings descended around him and his nearly-bovine friend.

He was dumped in a crumbling coliseum, exactly as he had planned. This match was orchestrated from the very beginning, at least in parts. The field was selected to keep everything close. The high walls were to keep Shenny out of the stands, an area that Cent was now approaching. Giving Duke a heft into the stands, he turned back around to face the boy. Happily greeted with words of encouragement, Cent couldn’t help but smile. Shenmock really was a good kid, and this would be a good match.

The boy took of running, leaping into the air. Silver hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. Cent had assumed that the kiddo would have learned from their last battle. As he muttered an “Ap Do,” he used his position to launch himself off to his right side. The preparation time a leap gives, coupled with the added speed bonus would have been enough time for the Banchou to get out of the way of the attack and probably close the distance back in, but he waited.

“Round two, boyo. I’m not pulling any punches.” Cent let his excited muscles carry him exactly where they wanted to be, within striking distance of Shenmock. Using his momentum as best he could, he carried his speed into a punch aimed right at his head. From the sideways vantage he had right now, the punch was directed more at the ear lobe than the temple, but a strike was a strike.

SP:101/115

EDIT: Tag work and a minor SP problem.

The muttered ‘Ap Do’ that he heard from Centrus told him that he was obviously going to miss and get hit in his blind spot. His opponent leaped to the right, avoiding his attack with ease, or so it looked like. The foot had collided with thin air, leaving him to land on the ground without the pleasure of hitting someone in the chest, though his opponent wasn’t quite the person that he liked beating the crap out of (though he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to in the end). The Fist Fighter didn’t have much time before the next attack came at him. The warning that came from his opponent wasn’t exactly very friendly, but their first battle had just been a practice round and the second one had really been the same. The third would be more serious as he saw it. He turned his head, noticing the silver-haired man preparing a punch at his head. His foot had more power and would be the only thing to stop the punch, his own arms being a less powerful force. He lifted his hands up to block, but found that the fist had already found itself colliding with his head before his arms could figure out where the arm was headed.

Shenmock was knocked back a bit, but kept his ground, the blow not proving extremely strong, but still, the power that had been put in the blow seemed harder than before. He put his head up and felt at the huge bump that had been left there. He frowned and prepared his fists. Well, it was now or never if he wanted to land in a good hit on Centrus. He muttered a quick ”Ap Corv” and charged at his opponent, once again. It was a short charge, but the power that he got from sprinting was good enough. His right fist stretched back and the weapon started to glow.

”Kiwami!”

Why had he used a skill so quick into the battle? Well, if he were to win the battle, he’d just have to use all of his skill. I won’t be holding back either… His right fist swung back a bit more before he thrust it forward at his opponent’s chest. What else could he do? It had a good chance at missing because it was so simplistic, but if it would hit, he’d be able to have a better advantage. He jumped back, sure that if there was a counterattack to his skill, it would be now. He might’ve not been in a fighting stance, but he was ready to fight nonetheless. ”Round two shall surely be interesting…” With that, the Fist Fighter braced himself for what was coming. He only hoped that he’d be able to handle it to the best of his ability.

SP: 90 - 15 - 10 + 1 = 66

Ap Corv. The kid had gone there. Just like he had done in their previous duel, the blue-haired player had seemingly seen the skill as a means to compensate for the level difference. In most cases, it would work to a certain degree. It most definitely wouldn’t compensate for a five level difference, that’s for sure, but it would help. The problem, in this situation, sat deeply rooted in the fact that this was not “most cases”. In most cases, players didn’t carry rare armor. Even then, the chances of said armor carrying the appropriate skill to compensate for it were unlikely. In fact, at the Fist Fighter’s current level, only four pieces of armor carried the skill. This was most decidedly not “most cases”. This was a rare case indeed.

“Dek Corv.” Cent sent off his love with a flick of his wrist. The skill would act as a means to negate the Ap the opponent had just used, and even give him a moment to absorb a hit from the child between his Ap wearing off and the Dek doing so. Perhaps it would be a moment of fortuitous grace. Maybe the moment would be wasted. Cent had no way of knowing for sure, short of playing the rest of this tune.

Musical metaphors aside, the boy realized he had taken his mind off of the fight at hand. As the young foe’s hands began to glow the same color as his hair, Cent knew he was in for a bit of trouble. Even with his increased speed, he knew that he was too close to the attack for an effective dodge. With little else to do as an alternative, he did something odd. He jumped, throwing a bit of a hip rotation into the blow. The skill, which had apparently been aimed at his chest, connected with the lower section of his right ribcage.

The impact pushed him back a bit, the distance between the two augmented by Shenmock’s dash backward. Given the relatively close quarters of the arena, there couldn’t be a hell of a lot of distance between them, but it was substantial enough that Cent felt comfortable demonstrating the other skill that lie hidden in his gloves.

His right arm extended, palm down. As it came perpendicular to the rest of his body, he flipped his hand over. Placing his thumb and middle fingers together, he readied himself for just long enough to speak two words. “My turn.” As he snapped, he loosed the power of Thor that ran through his digital veins. The second level electrical tornado began to rise, mimicking the corners of Centrus’s lips.

Round Two was going to be fun.

SP:88/115

Edit: I can spell "thumb." I promise. =D

The two words that combined ‘Dek’ and ‘Corv’ together seemed like some kind of spell that had come from some world beyond his. The once-bulging muscles loosened, leaving them at their small size again, though not too small for an average person. Too bad he couldn’t show off his strength…with a bit of an extra ingredient. He frowned as he saw his opponent’s feat leave the ground. The man was still in range, but he couldn’t land the hit that he had hoped for: one that would’ve done a lot more damage. Instead of the chest, though, his fist slammed itself into the man’s ribcage. He wasn’t sure if he heard a crack or not, but he was sure that he had done at least a bit of damage to Centrus. He was happy that it hit, but then again, it hadn’t done as much damage as he had hoped.

Shenmock stood, thinking about what just happened, arms folded as he watched Centrus. He noticed the small grunty watching the battle at hand. He let out a soft laugh at the humor. This guy seemed nice, but he was sure that this was only the beginning of the battle. He prepared his fist as his opponent slowly stretched his palm out. It didn’t curl into a fist, as one would expect from a Fist Fighter who had just been hit, but instead, his thumb and middle finger met as he lowered it. He snapped once and a frown instantly replaced Shenmock’s ‘fine’ expression. A spell, a level two spell, was coming his way. Was he ready for this kind of thing to happen to him? Well, of course not.

Electricity rumbled through the arena stage, making a screeching sound that made him want to cover his ears. He couldn’t let it hit him with full impact or else he’d be as good as dead. He sighed and took the same tactic as his last match in the duel arena. He’d use a protecting spell and one that gave him a bit more power, giving the armor that he was wearing. He wanted to smile, but he frowned instead, his eyes intensifying with every few seconds. Then he let out a chuckle, crouched down, and dug his hands into the water. Cool water slowly found their way flowing into the ground under them, soon turning into ice that sifted through the dirt until it found a good place in front of the ever-intensifying tornado in front of him.

”Rue Zot!”

His hands were still dug in the ground when the soft rumble came from the ground under him. He hoped that this could hold out against a level two Rai spell, but at least it would help a bit. He pulled his hands out of the ground and sat up, watching ice slowly find its way up to the ground before jutting from the ground at a quick speed in the shape of a thorn. Water and ice swirled around it, making it seem like a dazzling sight. That is, until the tornado of Rai hit it. The crackling tornado of Rai seemed to push its weight into the thorn (although it was technically wind). Lightning shot through the thorn of ice, cutting through and giving the young Fist Fighter quick, electrical shocks. It only took a few seconds for the ice to shatter, revealing the tornado at close up. In other words, that was a bad thing.

The boy wanted to yell, wanted to screech, but instead held up his hands, doing his best to guard from the remains of the attack. His expression was still a frown and his eyes were closed, trying to protect themselves from the winds. The electricity made his skin extremely shaky and the wind alone landed cut marks on his skin that sent shivers down his spine. He shuddered at the sight of his own blood oozing down his leg and falling down to the coliseum floor, dotting it with its ruby red color. His frown lessened as the tornado seemed to be at an end. It felt like an hour, but it had only been a mere ten seconds or more. He looked toward Centrus, sure that his hair looked like a mess. He shook it a bit, but still kept his gaze on his opponent. He didn’t know what exactly to do at the moment. He didn’t need healing, at least not now, he didn’t. A normal physical attack wouldn’t work well, judging that he had his Ap Do in plain effect. A spell was the only thing that he could do, but which one?

He chose one that would copy Centrus’s previous move, but he didn’t know of anything else he could do. He came to his straight face and lifted his hands up. With two simple claps that a regular person could probably recognize from turning on a light switch, water and ice the same color as his light blue hair materialized in front of his avatar. He actually smiled this time and watched as the winds came around, blowing his hair back a bit like he was at the edge of a cliff, enjoying the ocean breeze. He laughed to himself again, thinking about how the match would turn out. The swirling tornado of ice and water shot forward.

Two could play at this game.

SP: 66 + 1 – 20 – 10 + 1 = 38

Did he…Did he just? Oh God. Why didn’t he… Cent’s mind raced as he watched in awe as the boy implemented his intended damage reduction tactics. In all honesty, the silver-haired Fist Fighter had expected the boy to dodge somehow, but the Rue Zot had not been the way he had expected to see. As the lightning ripped through the spell, a muffled Oink! came from the background. It seemed that even Duke felt the pain from that blast.

As the blue-haired child before him collected himself, Cent didn’t know what to expect out of the boy. He seemed to be the type to learn quickly, something he was glad to see. Shenmock, as goofy as he was, had some mutual acquaintances. Could one really blame Cent for wanting to make sure that the people he knew were safe in his hands? Well, to be honest, Shenny would probably be defended more by them then them by him, but that was a story for later times. What mattered now was the blue aura ripping around the other Fist Fighter as he stood. It seemed that he was learning, or at least adapting to the situation at hand. While neither player had the higher ground, neither could really advance too much without offering the other one a shot as well. It was this circumstance that had led Cent to use his GiRai Rom, and it was the very same that probably drew Shenny into using his Rue Rom.

As the tornado began closing the distance between the two, Cent did all he could. Using what was likely the final seconds of his Ap Do to his advantage, he charged it. Muttering an “Ap Ruem” as he dashed, he prepared himself for the idiotic move he was about to make. His legs carried him faster and faster toward the tornado, toward his merchant of death. All he could do now was remain focused on the plan and do whatever he could to see it through.

As the final inches between them closed, Centrus leapt. He leapt into the spell, watching his health bar get whittled away by the momentary exposure to the attack. Between the spell and the earlier punch, he had taken about one-third of his total health in damage, but the value was definitely a workable one. As his momentum carried him forward, he did something that he prayed the Fist Fighter hadn’t seen coming. The Fist Fighter unfurled his wings.

Having been perfectly in line for the tornado to hit him also meant that he had also been aligned with his opponent at the moment he took off running. Bursting through the tornado had altered his trajectory slightly, but nothing he couldn’t compensate for if he had to. He had no real attack planned, but the force of crashing into the other man would be enough to slam them back into the wall behind them. The best part of physics, momentum.

It was right about then that the idiocy of his plan sunk in. Finding no other appropriate response, he began to scream.

SP:60/115

((Edit: I made a miscalculation in my last post for my SP. I forgot to detract the twenty for the GiRai Rom. It has come out of this post, since both Shenny and I have posted since that post was made. My apologies to Shen and the grader.))

Why, oh why did he just run at my tornado…? The Fist Fighter wasn’t sure why his opponent had just charged at the attack, but he knew for one thing that Centrus was up to something. The tornado of ice and water swirled forward at the man and he hadn’t noticed that he had completely aligned himself with his opponent. That was quite literally always a bad thing to do, especially in a duel. Centrus made a final leap at a few feat away… What the…? His opponent did something that was completely unexpected. He didn’t even know this kind of player would be able to attain the item at all.

Centrus unfurled two wings in the wind. Though the wind cut his HP a little, the man’s wings propelled him faster with the speed of the wind that he had shot forward. The wind dyed down a bit, but Centrus was already out of the wind, gliding toward him. The player stood there, but didn’t leap out of the way because the surprise and the time that his opponent had used it was completely off. The Fist Fighter held up his arms in defense; it was the only thing he could do. He heard a scream from his opponent and they both collided, his avatar immediately losing air for a moment as two bodies collided and smashed into the coliseum wall. His HP went down quite a ways just by the impact, but not enough for him to panic. It was a bit under half now and he was worried that the Fist Fighter would be at an advantage by having him half-pinned, half-smashed, into the wall.

The Fist Fighter would’ve loved to use a spell or skill on the man at this exact second and the second was probably perfect too, but his SP was at a low area and he wanted to conserve it up for other things. He managed to squirm out of the way and jump back. The boy jumped back once again, keeping a good eye on the gash that had been put in the middle. He couldn’t go any farther at that moment and muttered a ‘Repth’ spell under his breath. A blue aura surrounded him, making its way through his wounds to sew them and clot the blood that had been spilled. Though not all of his hit points had been swallowed up, it was enough for the time being. He had to think of a plan of action! Centrus always had something up his sleeve, but what could he do without any spells or skills? He had to make due with his surroundings. There was that gash in the middle, a ten foot wall, some crumbling walls, his opponent’s grunty, there was Centrus, of course, and himself. Nothing to throw or anything like that; only a deep gash and a wall to use…

The gash went half a foot deep, so it’d be enough for someone to trip on. If he could get Centrus’ guard down, then he could easily get some damage in. He’d just have to lure him towards it, so maybe the man could trip or get his foot stuck, or something. It was a plan only an idiot would think of doing, but if it worked, maybe then he had a chance of winning, though he was sure he wouldn’t. He could only get the man’s temper up or get him to come at him. He folded his hands and stood where he was, unmoving, not flinching, just being as still as a statue.

”That was quite a surprise back there, with your wings, Centrus. Quite the rare item.” He chuckled lightly. ”I doubt I could get my hands on something quite that rare, but yeah…" Come on, think, think, think, Shenny, think! He raised his palm as if to gesture towards him. ”Your move…Centrus."

Now all he had to do now was wait for fate to decide whether he won or lost.

SP: 38 + 1 – 10 + 1 = 30

Edit: Tag fixations.

Oh the joys of combat in a digital world. No matter how much leeway one might have made no matter how much of the battle had been fought, and how close victory seemed to being in one’s grasp, a single word can screw the whole thing up. As the blue aura surrounded the already heavily blue-themed character, Cent knew that the battle was beginning anew. Frustrating as it was, it came with the territory. If one was going to survive in The World, they would have to get used to frustrations. Cent knew this rule better than a lot of players, and all of it learned in just one excursion. He sighed and shook his head. Things were about go get going again.

As the former Long Arm’s hand rose, the silver-haired boy prepared to analyze his position for weak points. Every style of martial arts had its strengths and faults, and it was just a matter of finding them. Aikido worked on the principle of using your opponent’s energy, and as such it was a wonderful defense, but useless for the offensive. Tae Kwon Do was very linear, difficult to use against an art that works in spirals. Kung Fu’s various styles were no exception, and whatever this kid was going to throw at him, Cent would be ready.

Shenmock’s palm stood open, then began to clench into what Cent assumed would be a fist. The fingers made it halfway up before going back down and repeating the motion in a “come hither” style. Shenny was beckoning him forward. There was no impending attack. There was nothing to defend against. There was only silence, until the blue-haired boy’s words broke it. The invitation was welcomed, but unnecessary. The problem was that Cent had no idea what to do. As an Oink! rang out through the silence of the arena, the Fist Fighter knew it was time to get to work. He was a leader now, and it was time to be decisive.

Eyes closed, focusing on what he was about to do. A mere second later, they opened wide, and he dashed in to cover the distance between them. Although the space wasn’t considerable, it was enough to work up the run he desired. As the pillars of ice rose from the ground before him, he cursed the cost of the spell. Using the attack as a two-purposed assault was a fun habit of his, and this case was no exception. The man-child used the pillars as a step to jump from, giving him enough air to get above the boy. Cent rotated his body, using his momentum to carry him around so that he would land behind, but facing, Shenny. As he descended, so did his fist. It would be an odd and probably awkward move, but the power of putting one’s whole weight behind something is a considerable one.

“Alright boyo, this is how it goes.”

SP: 42/115

Cent’s grunty gave out a loud oink that resounded through the empty stands of the coliseum. The Fist Fighter had no idea what to do, but waited for his opponent to charge at him. Whatever the style, whatever the spell, he’d counterattack it no problem this time! His positive attitude was really a thought saying Shenny, get some kind of tactic or you’re screwed, spells won’t save you all the time. He expected that Centrus would maybe use a skill and direct it at him, but he wasn’t sure. His opponent started to move forward in a sprint. He flinched as a blue aura surrounded him, his silver hair falling back as he ran forward. He held up his hands, but only found that the Rue spell wasn’t directed at him. He caught on in a second, seeing that it was leverage for Centrus. He frowned. An air attack, huh? How the heck was he supposed to counter that?

A cold air came through the area and left the Fist Fighter to watch as water slithered around from the crevices in the coliseum walls. The water fell into one place before Centrus and Shenmock was left to watch as the ice formed up, letting Centrus make one long stride up before he propelled himself up into the sky. I could always just run in the direction he came. It would really just destroy the whole purpose and leave him with some wasted spell points. There’s the other option of sending off a spell at him since he left himself open. Though that punch he’s aiming at me isn’t going to block itself. Then again, I’m trying to refrain from using spells, so just guarding and counterattacking would be fine. Satisfied with his dumb plan, he looked up and watched the silver-haired man came down. He raised his left arm up, working to guard against the attack. Fist collided with arm and he felt his hit points whittle down. He grimaced, but knew that since he was in close range, he might as well attack.

Leaning down and pushing his weight into his upper leg, he swung it around to trip his opponent. It wasn’t the best move in the world, not the slightest, but it was a move at that. If he could get the man down on the ground, he’d have free reign to get his hit points down, but if the Fist Fighter jumped into the air and gave him some kind of spin kick or something, he’d be quite screwed. He looked up at the blue sky, white puffy clouds drifting across the endless skyline. ‘The World’ amazed him so much.

SP: 30 + 2 = 32

A leg sweep.

A Fist Fighter, as a rule, has many options available to them at any given time. In compensation for their lack of heavy, long, or magical weaponry, the Fist Fighter is graced with being more dexterous than other classes. Their controls are a bit tighter, and their actions are a bit smoother. Their punches sure as hell pack a little more power than the average punch. They are a versatile class, one designed to be a counterbalance to the armed classes that define the rest of the class system. So, with so many options available, Centrus was forced to wonder why it was that the blue-haired boy went for a leg sweep.

The move itself requires too much preparation. The lowering of the weight and the rotation of the hip give away what you are planning long before your leg even comes out to catch the opponent. Seven years he had been training, and not once had he fallen for a leg sweep. As auspicious as this occasion was, it did not call for the lowering of his guard. Today would not be the day that a leg sweep caught him. “Sorry, Shenny my boy. Not today.”

The talk had to be quick, most of his time needed to be devoted to action. Ian’s body was still coursing with adrenaline from his last attack, a decently successful assault on Shenmock’s HP. As the leg rotated in an attempt to trip Cent up, the former Heavy Blade used his position to his advantage. Jumping back, he threw one leg up to catch his momentum on the wall behind him. Pushing off, the Fist Fighter used his momentum to carry his other outstretched leg in the direction of his opponent.

Whether or not the leg actually connected with the abdomen of the newly class-changed Fighter was unimportant. What mattered right then was showing the child how to use the class properly. Shenmock was not a vet, nor was Centrus by any means, but through this experience they could push each other to find new ways to play. To top it off, they could learn problem-solving skills, as demonstrated by Centrus’s cast of Dek Corv.

“Okay, kiddo. This’ll be over soon, so show me what we’re working with.”

SP: 29/115

Why can’t I touch this guy? He always manages to make it out of an attack…then again, he’s the vet in this situation…more than me at least.

The motion he had used gave himself away enough that Centrus could easily evade it. The motion Centrus used was something that he should’ve realized before: he could easily make a speedy income with a wall behind him. Instead of dancing back and pressing off the wall for some kind of ramming attack (the boy really didn’t expect to see that coming from someone so skilled with the class), the silver-haired Fist Fighter jumped back, his foot coming behind him for the momentum. Just as he launched himself off the wall, his foot came out in a flying kick motion. Though the attack was well set out and something that Shenmock recognized as a good tactic, he knew that the man had left himself open in one way, though he doubted that Centrus would really expect him to use anything like that.

He ducked down and dug his fists into the ground, ice already moving across the dirt towards the Fist Fighter’s leg. If he could shoot a pillar of ice up at him, he could easily knock him off balance, allowing him for a relatively strong attack. He couldn’t get too excited, though, as he knew that the attack wasn’t going anywhere near finishing his opponent off. He had his hopes up, though. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as the ice pillar shot up in front of him. For all he knew, the Fist Fighter could’ve canceled the spell out or somehow changed his position in mid-air. ”Not today, Cent,” he countered. Just as the ice pillar shot up, his emerald eyes flashed open and he was up on the ice pillar, launching himself into the air.

He prayed his attack would work and snapped his eyes shut again, though his character didn’t seem to lose its sense of direction. His hands were up in the air already, hoping to grab onto his opponent’s legs and bring him down into the coliseum wall. His hands weren’t quite that strong, though, as Centrus had countered with a cast of Dek Corv right before his spell had come. He started to come down and roll forward, bringing air or body into the wall, though he wasn’t sure. He hit the ground and stood stock-still, his emerald eyes open and waiting for whatever counterattack would come. He just hoped his one plan would work…

”And please don’t get in the habit of calling me Shenny. It’s just not the best nickname.”

SP: 32 + 2 – 20 = 14

The Fist Fighter was a bit awestruck, to say the least. While his kick had been what he considered a decent means of counter-attacking the boy’s leg sweep, Cent had sure as hell not been expecting the ground beneath him burst upward with ice pillars. What had he been expecting even less? The answer was simple: For Shenmock to follow them up into the air. The blue-haired child had managed to catch a ride on his Rue Zot, using it as a means of getting within the proper distance to cause serious disadvantage to the now ragdoll of a player. Shen’s arms caught hold of a leg, sending Cent down into the now thrashed wall of the coliseum.

The Fist Fighter coughed more out of habit than the necessity, given the amount of dust and debris settling around him. Through the haze, he was able to make out the outline of the other player. Quick calculations were made, Centrus hoping that his depth perception was what it used to be. The other fighter remained motionless, save for the few words that flowed from his digital lips. The silver-haired man muttered just loud enough to be heard. “I happen to think the name is appropriate, but if you don’t like it I’ll respect that.” No sooner had the words left his mouth did the air around Shenmock begin to crackle. “We could try Smock,” the player choked out as he began to stand, “Or even Kiddo.”

As the GiRai Rom erupted, the Fist Fighter counted himself lucky that he had been able to track down the gloves he now wore. A part of a rather short list of what he truly desired, the Thor’s Spiked Gloves were his pride and joy as a Mid Class. The lightning swirled around where he hoped the boy remained, and Cent knew this was his only chance to bring in the final strike. Gripping his Black Tonfa tightly, the boy blew the hair out of his eyes. This was going to be fun.

He charged the boy, throwing caution to the wind. If this was going to be won, it was going to be decided in this next moment. As the Tonfa sought their target, all Cent could do was smile. This was fun. He was actually enjoying himself for the first time since he class changed. He was finally doing what he had started playing The World to do, and that was to lose himself in a moment. To be reckless, and see how it worked out for him. As his strike came closer to the blue-headed boy, two words were whispered in Shen’s direction.

“Thank you."
---
SP: 11/115

[Note: The Black Tonfa does carry the Death skill on it. While there is no way to force it to activate in a duel, I also can't let ya forget that it's there. xP]

His attack was a success, yet he really didn’t think he had done enough damage. It was obvious it wasn’t going to kill him, but he had expected more of a reaction from the silver-haired fist fighter who was now standing in front of him. Dust rose for a moment and the rubble under his feet seemed to blow a bit. His opponent coughed a bit and stood. He could only see the outline, yet he really couldn’t hear much of what was happening. There were no curses muttered, no spells thrown at him in some sudden counterattack, nothing, for that split second.

Centrus started to speak and the words actually brought a smile to the Fist Fighter’s face. Those witty comments always came from Centrus; it was just the way his opponent was. The boy stretched for a second, as if to act bored, and then prepared himself for what was to come. His sentence ended and then, the spell that he had been expecting came. He could only brace himself for what was to come. He really didn’t know what he could do to counter it. It was the wind: it would pull him in and throw him out of the way. In between that, lightning would pierce his arms and make his character scream in agony. It wasn’t a pretty process, but he knew that it wasn’t the last thing that the Fist Fighter would throw at him.

The blue-haired Fist Fighter threw his arms up. His spell points were low enough that he couldn’t use anything. A healing spell would only get countered by one of Centrus’. He rose his arms and was shoved back a ways with the electricity and wind that crackled together. Something else made the process even more painful for his character; the fact that he had stepped on ice and that he was partially wet. The boy stood on shaky legs, moans and groans coming out as his legs shook. Okay, so what if he had done a bit more damage to him with the added water…

Then, the Fist Fighter came at him, his silver hair coming behind him. The Black Tonfa was in his hand and he was charging forward, ready for what seemed like the finishing blow. If it was just a simple hit, sure, it would be the finishing blow, but he had seen at a shop once that that weapon held the ability ‘Death’, one that allowed something like killing your opponent; not quite, but it took out a big portion of your hit points. It probably applied near the middle or near the end of someone’s life, whenever it was dire. It obviously applied right now, the time when his opponent needed it most. There was a smack, a crunch, and a yelp as the tonfa connected with his chest and sent him crumbling to the ground, his hit points whittling away to their last breath.

He was motionless, his emerald eyes watching the sky and then narrowing to the sight of the man’s grunty. He forced a smile and sighed. His character was already starting to gray. ”I think Shenny’ll do fine, Cent,” he muttered to Cent as he grayed. There he was, going out and challenging someone to a duel. It had been a fun experience, but in the end, that fun experience had ended with him losing the match to Centrus. It was two to one now…and that one had had snagged was hardly anything. Still, he didn’t frown and kept his smile up even as his character closed his eyes.

”Thanks to you, too,” he muttered back just as he disappeared.

SP: 14 + 1 = 15

Edit: Edited for 'Death' explanation.

Great job to both of you. As I expressed to Centrus, I really had to scrutinize to find the problems with the duel. It was a slow start, but in the end it picked up quite nicely.

You're both Fist-Fighters, supposedly specializing in hand-to-hand combat. And yet for the first half of the duel, the entire thing revolved around magics. You were both docked a half-point in tactics for this, because I was expecting something out of a Jet-Li or Jackie Chan movie, and you didn't meet my expectations. Additionally, neither of you tracked your HP in a manner that I could see until about halfway through, so half a point from fairness from both of you.

WINNER: Centrus
+3 Sports Drink

Centrus: 9.2
Tactics - 9
Fairness - 9
SP Regulation - 9
Quality - 9
Technicality - 10

- As I said over IM, it's a good idea to mimic Shenmock's calculating of SP at the end of every duel post. It helps to prevent slip-ups like the one you had.

Shenmock: 8.7
Tactics - 7
Fairness - 9
SP Regulation - 10
Quality - 7.5
Technicality - 10

- As a note, the GiRai Rom wouldn't have killed you. It would've taken a significant chunk out of your health--say 1/2 to 2/3--but you wouldn't have died from it.
- Additionally, there is no travel time for spells cast in The World. Rom spells erupt outward from the target and spin, landing multiple low-yield hits on the targets in its range, and Zot spells erupt upwards from the ground beneath the target. Activation is nearly instantaneous with the casting of the spell at the target location - no traveling between the caster and the target.
- Spells can't cancel each other out unless they're cast with the same SP and are of opposing elements. In other words, even through your flawed perception of how the spells worked, your Rue Zot wouldn't have broken.
- Centrus also tells me that you don't understand the auto-skill, "Death." Basically, a weapon or armor with death as its skill has a higher probability of dealing a lethal blow: something translated in the game as taking between 80% and 95% of your max HP in a single hit. It'll only kill you if it's activated and you're below that range. Oh, and when it activates is completely random.
- The attack with the Rue Zot shooting Cent into the air was just barely not a force-hit. Be careful of those.