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 Posted: Sat Dec 05, 2009 9:55 pm
A hit!
It seemed as if Tenkai's strike had struck home, and with enough force for Deitric to take to a knee. For a moment it seemed as if Tenkai had dealt a good deal of damage. Of course, after the amount of punishment Deitric could take, to think that an attack like Tenkai's last one would have him down would be a horrible underestimation.
The monk would soon realize how right he was.
!
His eyes widened as he felt the sudden pull on his arm. With Tenkai bracing his weight against his left foot, he'd keep himself from being pulled down. The tribesman's grip was tight, but so was the monk's, and Tenkai's positioning made that easier for him.
But it didn't stop Deitric from pulling himself up.
Gathering all of that power into his fist?
It was just like the move he had done at the start of the round, only now it was ten times stronger. Tenkai was close enough to feel the power surging through the tribesman, and it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. Deitric was putting all of his elemental force behind that attack.
In a word...it was inspiring.
But also very frightening.
Is he really going to use something that dangerous here?
As much as this attack gave Tenkai so many things to think about, the monk couldn't afford even a thought. If that strike struck home, there was no telling what it'd do to him or the stadium.
So as Deitric pulled himself up by his deathgrip on Tenkai's right wrist, Tenkai's left hand adhered to the tribesman's lower back, sliding from the previous spot of impact. The monk pulled Deitric up into his own attack, using the weight on his left leg as a pivot...
And the strike came in...
SHOOM!
The blinding attack shot past Tenkai's right side. The monk's movement and positioning allowed him to evade a direct hit, but this wasn't like the first time. The force alone was as bad enough as a graze, enough to blow the rest of the remaining cloth on his shirt clear off his body. The raw electricity burned through the garment and seared his flesh with their intensity.
It was too bright a flash for him to see, but the monk didn't need sight to do what he needed to do. He already knew what had to be done. Tenkai continued the turn, using the force of Deitric's attack to strengthen the pivot...
"NNNNUUURRRYYYYYAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
...and pushed against Deitric's lower back, grabbing him by the rim of his pants and throwing him into the force of his own attack.
The furious cyclone spiraling from the back of the tribesman's fist as it passed the monk was enough to break their mutual grip. The abrupt break in centrifugal force would send both fighters sailing in opposite directions. For Tenkai, the hurricane force of the punch was enough to blow him away after they let go. For Deitric, the force of Tenkai's push would send him moving with the force of his own attack...
...and both of them would be sent flying into ringposts.
Neither would be the one with the tomahawk wedged into it, so there would be no unexpected serious damage on either of their parts. The cyclone sent the monk spinning into one of the posts, hitting his back hard against it. You would think the sword strapped to his back would help him take the hit, but it only made the impact much harder on his body.
"Guh-!"
Tenkai spat up more blood upon impact before settling against the ringpost.
Deitric, on the other hand, would be sent fist-first into the other ringpost following the momentum of his attack. There was no way of knowing how banged up Deitric would be after such an impact, but Tenkai hoped Mr. Sonners had built the ring sturdy enough to deal with heavy metaphysical powers. If Tenkai was right, the ringpost would be enough to take the impact safely, and leave both fighters at parallel sides of the ring.
After that exchange, the monk would be rather worse for wear. His upper body garment was in singed tatters now, his right side covered by burns. The strap keeping his shoulder armor in place must have been pretty resilient to stay on this whole time, though most of the metal on his body was starting to turn black from all that raw elemental power.
I probably got a lot of internal damage from all of this...My right arm hurts like hell...
For once, Tenkai regretted wearing that gauntlet he wore all the time. It would probably be a lot easier to relax his muscles if he wasn't wearing it. Then again, he'd probably have even more horrible words without that kind of protection.
From there, he would look over to wherever Deitric would be. All of Deitric's attacks seemed to take a bigger toll on him than Tenkai would have thought. Even so, they certainly had a big payoff. The monk had never met such an opponent whose fights left both competitors battered, bruised and beaten.
And although Tenkai couldn't understand why...it all seemed as if that was how it should be.
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Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2009 10:48 am
?!
Deitric felt - or rather, didn't feel - his fist move just inches beyond the intended target. The push-off power of his attack still had the intended effect that the monk had aimed for - the two were thrown apart, slinging each of them into opposing ring-posts.
For his part, the champion - though his vision was still of two spinning worlds, and not one - managed to roll his shoulders and turn in the air, smashing bodily into the ring-post with a thhuunng of rubber and foam covered metal being impacted by something heavy and fast moving, the ropes connected to the post shaking violently.
The man's body bounded off onto his feet, which sent him stumbling back into the post, off-kilter and off-balance. His peripheral vision was still hazy in the backwash of pain and power that surged through his body, and his vision was going back and forth between ultra sharp and showing three of everything around him before finally zeroing in on reality.
The black haired brave stood haggardly, bent over almost as if an invisible weight was bearing down on his shoulders, his breath coming in slow, measured gasps. The light in his eyes hadn't faded - the power was still there, as if he had never thrown the attack. Had he mysteriously conserved his energy? Not quite.
His metaphysical power worked through his strikes in the same way that pressure worked on a mine - without a proper strike, he wouldn't "release" the energy completely, keeping it under wraps until the last second. While he had certainly burnt some in the initial momentum behind the blow, the power that had been reserved for the blow was still there, burning in his hand like fire.
Deitric's left arm hung at his side, but not from pain or overdrawn fatigue from the attack. Almost inhuman vascularity played out beneath his skin - veins spidered out across the limb, leaving ridges along the muscles in pathways for blood to flow. The air around him seemed to contract and expand as if a mirage flickered around him, shifting in time with his heart-beat.
Blood dripped onto the mat from the tribesman's hand where his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palm from how tightly he'd curled the hand into a fist, as if the tighter it became the more power he could wind around it.
The warrior rose up to his full height and began to walk toward his opponent, his arms hanging at his side. His step was slow, paced; measured. There was no where for either of them to go - and no where for him to release the power burning along the inside of his arm except for toward the man in front of him.
[This post was supposed to be up last night, but my internet cuts out at 3:40 and doesn't come back on for several hours, my apologies.]
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