realityshifted | (no subject)

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tales of the abyss (d2) tear grants

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[It's silent in the woods. Perhaps too silent? The only thing that can be seen is what looks like a pillow that has been carefully placed in the midst of some branches on one of the trees. The pillow itself seems to have some very angry-looking squiggly lines drawn on it, as though it is frowning intensely. There are a few small circles drawn on it, and on the tree itself.

There's a faint crunch, as if someone has stepped on some leaves, but then silence once more. Suddenly, several knives embed themselves in the marked circles. With a neat flip, Tear leaps out of one of the trees, landing in a ready stance with her staff brandished, another knife clenched between her fingers. She stares at the pillow coldly for a moment, before lowering her staff, closing her eyes and exhaling softly.

She walks up to the pillow, jerking out the knives with a practiced ease, then turns away, starting to walk away into the trees once more.]

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[Asch promptly hops out of range, feet touching the side of a nearby tree only briefly. He uses it to up his momentum, launches himself right at the fonist, sword swinging-- hoping to take advantage of the time it takes to recover from a fonic arte.

Let's hope she enjoys some fang with her blade.]

[She drops down, rolling under his sword and him to the glowing ring of sixth fonons from her previous arte. She tenses her stomach for a moment, using her trunk muscles to lever herself upright quickly, all the while absorbing the abundant fonons. The remaining three knives in her hand almost burst with fonic light as she leaps into the air and looses them at him in a repeat of her previous arte, but not quite--]

The power to conquer demons! Fatal Circle!

[Oh, ow. That's... going to hurt. He's not able to move away from that in time, so all he can do is basically stand there with his arm protecting his face as the glyph hits him. Several times.

But it doesn't knock him down, and rather than risk another fonic arte, he sends a shockwave in her direction-- trying to throw her off balance. Even if she dodges that, Asch chases with a flurry of quick slashes from his sword, his free hand charging some energy. If he can just get close enough--]

Raging Blast!

[-- he'll try that.]

[Caught in the casting paralysis, it's all she can do to hold up her staff to attempt to deflect his blows... but the energy blast is another matter entirely. She's thrown backwards from the attack, but manages to catch herself in midair, flipping neatly back down to land on her feet. With a twirl of the staff she hopes to introduce him to her own energy blast...]

Banishing Sorrow!

[Damn, she's deadly at close range too. Asch practically somersaults to avoid that, remaining just out of her staff's reach. He crouches down only for a second and then he spins, launching himself from above, heralding his arrival with a BOOT TO THE HEAD. No, really. It's a hard move for someone like Luke, who can barely throw his weight into an attack without falling over, but Asch is experienced. As soon as his feet touch the ground again he's moving into an arcane arte, trying to sweep Tear's feet with his sword and launch her into the air.

The Plane around them harbors an uneasy sort of quiet, as if the events of this battle might hint at things to come.]

[One of the first things fonists, especially Seventh Fonists, learn is to avoid melee as much as possible. With his foot coming straight at her there is literally nowhere else to go but down... and down she goes, arching her back up high and bending over in what would probably be a spinebreaking move for someone who hadn't spent their entire life training. Using the momentum to push herself up into the air with her hands she manages to avoid the sweeping attack by virtue of not having her legs on the ground at all. She grabs for the knives sheathed on her other leg, raking out with a handful as she attempts to turn herself back upright before she lands.]

[Asch is only halted by the knives for a moment, deflecting any that come near him with his sword. It buys her a few precious moments but not much more. His feet barely touch the grass as he charges forward, greeting her with a wall of fierce slashes from his blade. He can't let her rest even for a second. He knows he'll regret it.]

Edited 2010-11-21 15:13 (UTC)

[His parries manage to drag two of the knives from between her fingers, sending them skittering to the ground. She manages to right herself enough to land roughly, before simply dropping herself to the floor and letting him charge over her, kicking up with her legs in an attempt to catch him by the chest and throw him over her.]

[He doesn't think about it. He's only reacting by instinct now. He sees her drop and realizes she's about to tangle him up. He digs his feet sharply into the ground to stop himself, ground himself, momentum forcing a partial turn. Her feet miss his chest just barely (and that makes him reconsider getting this close again); still, he has the nerve to grab for the nearest ankle and pull with all his might, hoping to at least throw off her balance.

And no, he does not want a pantyshot. Her boots coming off might be a problem though.

THIS POST IS DUMB ENJOY IT]

[LIKE SHE CARES ABOUT PANTYSHOTS THIS IS SRS BZNS BATTLAN TIMEZ]

[ANYWAYS he can grab onto her ankle and pull all he wants. Hell, she'll let him have her boot if he really wants it too. She's busy right now. She tenses herself up, aligning her back properly so that she has a straight airway from her diaphragm up to her throat. Fixing her eyes straight on him, she slams open her Seventh fonon fon slots and starts charging up]

O melody beckoning toward the abyss...

[His eyes widen to a deadly shade of green as she starts her incantation. He drops her foot, feeling the seconds tick by slower than time passing on the Plane. Too slow, he's telling himself. Too slow! He steps forward, jams his foot beneath her side to flip her over. If it worked-- if he had enough time-- he'd have a sword to her throat and a boot in her stomach. Hard to breathe like that, right? But even as he begins the action, he knows it's not fast enough; the first note of the hymn makes him hesitate.]

[Timing, timing was everything for using any of the Fonic Hymns in combat applications - casting them left one helpless if not properly prepared for after all. Knowing just when to do it was a skill she had honed out of necessity... she doesn't even wince as she feels his boot digging into her back. It won't matter if she can finish this, now...]

Tue rei ze croa riou tue ze...

Edited 2010-11-21 16:07 (UTC)

[He groans, already feeling the haunting melody draining all will to fight. He drops his sword, falls to one knee.]

D... damn.

[And then he passes out. Contrary to popular belief, he looks just as pissed off while forced asleep as he does when awake.]

{She slowly pulls herself back into a sitting position. With the excitement of battle wearing off, she can feel the bruises forming and burns chafing roughly against her uniform.

At least now she has a moment to actually rest. She lets herself down on her back again, closing her eyes before casting one last time.]

O healing power... First Aid!

[The soft green glow diffuses through her, closing wounds as it goes. After a few moments she sits back up again, feeling much better. She moves to quickly gather her scattered knives before standing next to him, one foot on his chest and one hand plus knife snug up against his throat. A wake-up present, one could say.]

Edited 2010-11-21 16:17 (UTC)

[He feels like he got hit by the Tartarus. For a minute he's completely defenseless, almost /normal/, eyelids fluttering and a soft sleepy groan leaking from his lips-- and then he's alive, tense, fingers clutching grass instead of his sword and he realizes again that he's lost.]

Ggh—!

[And he's still defenseless.

He focuses on Tear. Admitting defeat is hard. She could even kill him if she wanted. However, any hope of stopping Van would die as well. He doesn't say anything, just waits for her to release him or kill him, whatever she feels like doing.

It would be a pain in the ass if he died. He can't die right now, he can't.]

Edited 2010-11-21 16:30 (UTC)

[For one brief moment she can imagine it's Van. Then she makes eye contact and instead of blue it's green, and the moment is lost. She's almost... disappointed. She jerks her hand away, stepping off of him and to the side where she simply clenches and releases her fists as though it will change things. He's not Van and he'd never be Van, and even winning this training bout feels hollow and empty because it wasn't the real thing.

She should be grateful, of course. It was the first time since basic that she'd had an actual sparring partner. She turns back to him, taking a moment to charge up another round of Seventh fonons to repay him for his troubles.]

[Asch gets to his feet somehow. He's not expecting to be healed and he doesn't ask for it, simply sheaths his sword with a snap and tries to ignore his burns.]

He's quicker than that. You can't afford to hesitate.

[Disappointment leads straight to anger.]

You were holding back.

It was a spar.

[It's a lame excuse but he doesn't give a damn.]

That's no excuse. And that's a poor training as well!

Shut up! Don't insult my training!

[... Oh my. Sore spot there, Asch?]

If you're going to hold back I may as well just fight the pillow again.

Be thankful I fought you at all.

[Maaan, they were getting along so well, too.]

You can ask that trash you're traveling with next time.

You weren't taking me seriously!

Ugh, you sound just like him. If you want to be taken seriously, then act like it! If you aren't strong enough, then get stronger! No one will ever listen to you if you don't!