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| Rauni Posts: 659/1351 |
Didn’t see through Blank’s diversion, Seticus strike the snowball without knowing it would come to his way. The moment he smack it sideway, it shattered into many piece of snowflakes. At the same time while falling for Blank’s diversion, millions of flakes was used as not only something distracting, but even help Seticus to see what come next. He seem to move every quickly to the side and thrust at a reasonable rate at Blank’s neck.
Whether it hit or not, he would pull the weapon away and swing (With two hands) the weapon so that the end would hit at the back of Black’s face. Such at a fast rate would knock a person out of cold, but he was yet to determine whether his opponent is strong to withstood or perish by such devastating blow. “…” A moment of silence. It wasn’t like any silence you could hear from unexpected attack from your enemy, or the common silence you would hear in the library. It was a silence of the music. The wind chimes stopped suddenly. Seticus seem like he was frozen in the process, but he shook his head. The winds suddenly stop and the snow continues to wander off without knowing their destination. Seticus look at his opponent, preparing just more than a simple attack. If he see that his opponent play against him, he will see that his play-along will be his downfall. |
| AlpoRaggins Posts: 431/793 |
Blank showed his curiosity through body language, as his face was never shown. A white-gloved hand scratched at his long black curls, allowing his opponent his way, no matter how odd they were. He wasn't quite sure what he could do; with that last block, it was only logical to guess that the same sort of stunt would cause the same effect. His surroundings offered him little choice when it came to using something other than his own weapon and skill. He had nothing to throw at the opponent his arsenal was small... or maybe... "Yes!" Blank found out. It wasn't small at all... in fact, it was as endless as the gray skies above and the white field at his feet.
It kept snowing continually, steadily. Blank did the same with his feet. They shuffled in place and then forward, sideways, his arms before him. Suddenly he went head over heels in a sort of frontwards roll. Immediatly when he got his footing, an object came hurtling from where he knelt, directly at his enemy. It went fast and hard in his direction.... ... alas, it was only a snowball. Nice and powdery, no damage could be done. He watched it shatter into billions of flakes around his enemies spear. Using this diversion, Blank made his way to Seticus as fast as he could. The cloud was just dissipating as he swung his blade at the enemy's own weapon. |
| Rauni Posts: 658/1351 |
The moment when Seticus saw Blank making his move, he didn’t seem to care. Just when Blank jumped over Seticus’ body, he quickly reacts toward to Blank’s movement. He charges in just upon when Blank landed and gave him a lunge directly at his body. His reflex was enough to see this coming and even manages to knock it aside, using the bottom part of the spear.
So quick with his weapon, he already has his weapon just close to Blank’s neck. Seticus looks at Blank, with that eye showing nothing but pain. The atmosphere around him was just as the same it was before. He withdraws his weapon, not having to inflict any damages at him. He walks back to his original position but still kept his eye focus on Blank. He didn’t trust his opponent, and yet, he never will. But there was something intriguing about his opponent. He never knew what his face look like, never knew what is his personality, and lastly, the environment has seems to be changed by even a slight feeling to it. “Again.” He spoke as if this was a training match or something. His personality seem to quick-changes, but it may be inaccurate of who he is. Seticus stood there again, waiting for his opponent to attack. This time, there will be no holding back. His spear points at the ground, with his right arm close to touching the spear. His right hand, tightly holding the spear, seems to change as it was possessed. However, with Seticus’ eye, it was no longer full of pain it was once before. It was full of rage, full of power, but he seems to be in control of that. An impossible task, but his body does not compare to any type of human… His opponent only worried his mind. |
| AlpoRaggins Posts: 424/793 |
"That spear..." Blank looked upon it as his dark half quivered within his body, half from anticipation for the battle, half for fear of the evil defeating weapon in his opponents hands. It could do nothing but physical injury so long as he kept himself calm and in balance.
The plains were now blanketed in virgin snow. They were unmoved, clean, covering the entire field. It was almost a shame when Blank made his first bound towards his enemy; the beaten path where his feet were was uncovered after his toes hurled the powder back. The scenerio was in his favor; if he needed, he could Transit through the falling snow to make a quick escape. Too much damage to his body could prove incredibly dangerous. The odds were that something was on the side of his opponent too. He couldn't tell what. This "Seticus" seemed a gentle musician - Blank almost hesitated fighting someone that seemed more docile than himself. Possibly Seticus, too, had a struggle of sorts that made him that way. Blank bounded above Seticus and slid far behind, his body low to the ground, legs spread far and with one arm balancing himself from the fall, the other with the Silver blade at his side. After much sliding on the snow, Blank caught some sort of friction against the ground and made his first true lunge at Seticus, his hollow, feminen voice not muttering a word or a breath beneath his mask. |
| Rauni Posts: 653/1351 |
The musician look at Blank confused. To him, this was something new, something that the musician never tried before. A battle at such beautiful scenery. He scoff at himself, reminding that each battle he fought before was only pure luck. Or was someone there to save him, to guide him?
The musician closes his eye, trying to take a deep breath, and trying to focus on the battle. The winds began to whisper through his ears, speaking as if it contains untold secrets. However, as much he want to learns, he didn’t get what he wants. It was something else instead, for its intentional reason. The winds began to flow gently and smoothes the musician’s body. Little did anyone that could know, the musician has his secret that was yet to be unexplained. The musician prepares himself. He wasn’t going to give up without a reason, just like that day where he woke up from a battlefield from a long rest. He wasn’t going to have someone kill him. He is going to see until the end. “I am… Seticus.” Being so quiet and somewhat sincere (can be found if his eye was closely examined), he stood still, waiting for his opponent to response. The spear he pulled out recently was masterly crafted made, just for him to wield. The material contains the crystal structure, crafted so perfectly that it takes what it seems like forever to do. Along with the crystal spear, the weapon smith decided to add in silver material to give the spear an extraordinary look, that it seem like it was considered one of the legendary weapon that was made to stop all evil. Seticus stood there waiting, each passing moment, until his opponent make any sudden movement. The snow fall so gently, the winds flow at ease, the lantern flickers calmly, and everything was normal… Until now. |
| AlpoRaggins Posts: 417/793 |
Blank Harmony had a different definition of "inner struggle" than many of the strange men and woman he had met since his creation. He was two beings in one, and despite his name, sometimes the Harmony was simply not there. The two would communicate and debate on what to do with an enemy. One always wanted the worst of routes, the other wanted to stray from battle as much as he could. But, in the end, both had to always agree on a simple vow: "Fight, but let live". Fighting kept the negative half of Blank sated, while the mercy appeased the positive. If there was reason for battle, Blank was forced into it in order to keep his body from splitting once again and causing what happened when the two forces were not one.
Harmonious was the sounds and sights of nature in the Plains of Spirit. As for Blank, a deep bloodlust gnawed at the throat beneath his blue scarves that nearly reached the ground. His shoe prints had left angry looking points in the light snow, and his bell-cuffed suit pants had barely gathered snow to his surprise. A suit was not fit for the body, as the cold steel of his Silver Rapier was not good for his hands, even if they were in a thin glove. The most shocking thing that one would find, his breath could be seen, as if it were coming from the mask on his face, whiter than the snow that fell before him. No eyes, no nose, the breath and his black curling hair that fell to his shoulders showed the only form of life for this man had within him. Blank stopped in an area where few trees grew. The lanterns were freshly lit and burning cheerfully. A person sat on the bench before him but stood when Blank came into a certain range. He had been playing the flute; it was that sound, and the mysterious lights of the field that guided Blank to this place. Before turning to see Blank among the trees, the hooded person, who's voice gave Blank the idea that it was a man he was fighting, mentioned a word or two about knowing one's skill. Blank's skill was unrefined still; he didn't have the speed or stamina of a god, like many of his past enemies. His movements were lazy and drunken, purposefully. Better to be comfortable and flexible than stiff and always having a certain set up on how to attack. Drunken Fencing, did his last enemy call it? It didn't have name to him. Fighting was fighting, and he did it to survive. Blank didn't do anything acrobatic to meet his enemy. He only gave him this simple phrase: "I've came upon an opponent who speaks some sort of sense. You are ready to contend with me; I trust you will stick to your own words and make this a fair fight." |
| Rauni Posts: 652/1351 |
The moon glittered and pierce the dark sky, the dark snow falls willingly and flow along with the wind, and the snow-filled plain with few trees that captures the beauty of the scenery, with the fresh airs provided and many mountains off from the distance. Few lanterns are hung on the tree branches, glittering a warm light and guiding the passage toward the mountain.
A person sat on a bench with a flute, playing every single along. The harmony is captured along with the wind, and somewhere, a wind chime began to play smoothly, just as the musician was playing along with the wind. The moonlights shine the field, the snow reveal the trace of beauty that was blessed by the moon, and the harmony of the wind. Clearly, the magic was at work here. Not for that long, the few green lights fly everywhere on the dim-plain, playing along with the snow but never land toward to the ground. Fireflies, it is usually rare to see them on an exotic night such like this. The musician stands up and places his flute on the bench. He saw his spear sticking out from the hard cold ground, but at the time like this, who would surely fight? No matter, the musician took off the hood of his, revealing long green hair. The hair extends to the back and halfway to the butt but when it did, it gathered up on his hood. Few of the hair came from the front, covering the left part of his face. His right eye was green as well, but only brighter. It reveals the peace of the person’s soul. He doesn’t look more than 20 years old. The right eye that musician show no memories or love. It didn’t show any sign of remorse, or even worse, it never shows any sign of emotion. Despite what lies deep inside of his eye, he smiled and cherished himself to find the lost life of himself. The musician looks over at his flute, thinking over about a song he remember that one particular day. He nodded his head. Only how long has it been since he long forgotten, nobody yet to know it. Too much of trying to remember his life, he gave a sigh. The cold atmosphere creates a vapor of gas from his mouth, and soon escapes from being visible. He stood for a brief moment to regain his control, and continues toward to his spear. “A warrior may seek a sword to gain honor through it, but let us know that honor are gained by fight a fair fight. Never doubt your own skills.” The musician yet hasn’t to look around, but felt the presence of someone. He can felt the even slight change in the atmosphere. He pulled the spear from the ground without any problem, and waits patiently for his opponent. |
