Welcome to Gaia! ::

Description: Though Midus knew there was a storm approaching, instead of closing the ceilings of the fighting arenas, he has instead decided to keep them open to add an interesting aspect to the next round. Instead of a nice, warm sunny day, the fighters would instead be fighting in the harsh condition of ten mile per hour winds that will sometimes gust to thirty mph, heavy rain drops (though not disturbing enough to cause total distraction to sight; maybe 20% reduction), and the occasional thunderbolt lighting up the skies. To help make the arena more comfortable for the fighters, the floor has been turned into low cut grass to help keep traction. However, if the ground is dug up too much, mud and dirt will be added to the terrain.

Despite the weather, the crowd of people have come to watch the fight, wielding umbrellas over their heads.

Special Conditions: Fire is a bit weaker here since it'll be harder to start up one without the rain putting it out. And electricity will get a bigger boost in strength, though it will also short out much faster than if wielded normally by the fighters who possess it.

Field Measurements:
Ring: 70 yard diameter

Ten Count Boundary: As soon as a fighter enters the bleachers, the count begins. The flying rule remains, as well.

As Elliot entered slight and quiet whispers would stir in the crowd, totally inaudible to anyone but their intended listener under the roar of the storm brewing overheard. These whispers would grow and snowball into the loud, yet mixed reactions of the crowd, some hissing, others cheering, most doing what the guy next to him was doing while still wondering who Elliot was.

His previous bout had left him unconscious, defeated by his brother, and partner in crime Bishop, but it was expected. Elliot was always the brains of the outfit. He was a fighter too of course, but to a slightly lesser extent, and so the match that ended with both of them passed out on the floor left Elliot with slightly fewer points.

But today brings a new match. Elliot had eaten his Wheaties and was packing his A-Game. He also brought his weapons, what appeared to be a katana sheathed at his left hip and kama held firmly in his right hand. He ditched the chain that usually accompanied the weapon, and dropped it on the ground, slightly uncoiled. Swinging ten feet of steel over head in a thunderstorm probably wasn't a good call.

Keeping the cloud cover in mind, and knowing how it would affect his abilities, his free hand would tear off his t-shirt, exposing the the tattoo that ran across his back. The calligraphy read "Phlegethon" in black ink across the Hispanic's, brown back, now wet from the rain. His skin felt the touch of rain as well as the few ambient energies of the sun that permeated the clouds. Wearing only his cargo shorts and gym shoes, the lack of clothing would make him lighter and less bogged down then his fully dressed opponent, who was becoming more and more visible with each step.
"A cop?"
Elliot, thought freezing in his steps. Was this a set up? Nah, couldn't be. He spent his whole life avoiding arrest, but making up a tournament just to bring him in seemed a bit too...over the top. So this guy was his opponent? A Durem gang-banger was put up against a pig? Oh hhhhhail naw'. Elliot grinned with anticipation and approached the man who seemed to be dozing off. Elliot kept his guard up as he extended his free hand to the man and introduced himself.
"Name's Elliot Pope."

Elliot grinned as he put the hand away. This guy was on edge, paranoid as all cops seemed to him, though probably not without good reason. TFOA used to be his affiliates, but were now just as much Elliot's enemy as they were Em's. Elliot was brought up in the street as much as he was the dojo, so unlike the others he did have some manners, and often found himself in a conflict of morals. He would alternate from bowing to nut-shots like the flip of a coin.

Seeing the man take-up a fighting stance Elliot would do the same. Stepping back to put some distance between the two, Elliot's right side would lead as his body turned parallel to Em's, his feet hip length apart. He raised his weapon, the kama now in his left hand. Not to strike, but to bring it into view, as if to remind the man that he was so far unarmed. This was the only kind gesture Em would receive. Elliot had usually kept in league with men who killed cops and innocents more often then they brushed their teeth. Elliot rarely took part himself, but still would have no qualms against carving the man up, in fact he looked forward to it.
"Whenever you are. Buena suerte* officer"
He spoke, his tone clearly mocking.


(* "good luck")

Elliot had been building up his own charge of sorts. The sun's energies that broke through clouds were taken in on his bare skin and metabolized. He had been doing so since he entered the ring, but to a much lesser extent, though now, in the calm during the storm he would draw in consciously.

He studied Em for a second. He didn't seem as soaked as he should have been, due to magic no doubt. A waste of energy in Elliot's eyes. So long as he could see his opponent he was fine. His medium length hair helped that for now, curling up as it absorbed the water that fell on his head, keeping most of the excess away from his eyes. The ground wasn't too bad either. If he refrained from the cartwheels and spinning kicks he shouldn't have much of a problem with his footing. The unpredictability of one's movements and reactions in the varying terrain kept things interesting. Leave it to the cop to take the overly safe, boring and predictable route. Yawn.

Elliot watched as the man moved to produce his weapons. As both hands went behind him, Elliot would find his opening. His free, lead hand would release a torrent of red concussive force hurtling towards the man's lower stomach. It looked and acted like a laser of sorts, however instead of burning, it "pushed," like a torrent of water from a fireman's hose. This particular blast pushed with strength stronger than a punch, yet weaker than a kick, over a space the size of a baseball. And it was fast. Real fast. He hoped it would knock the goofy a** smile off the doughnut-eater's face.

Elliot would then rush in to follow up, he exact movements depending on his opponent's reaction to his surprise attack.


(.67 charge*)

The mofo had dodged his surprise attack, but it was all good. Ell was about to be all over this guy like stink on pig.

While Em was busy breaking his wide horse stance to swiftly dodge a beam of energy, Elliot was advancing, running, though being careful not to lose footing. He intended to follow-up on his attack as previously stated. Though it didn't hit, it at least helped to stall him long enough for Elliot to cover the distance. Not a total waste.

His feet took to the earth as he ran against the downpour, the droplets crashing against his bare skin, feeling like hundreds of tiny cold bullets and he were some unstoppable hulk. A hulk that stood 5'11. He paid little mind to them, by now he was getting used to it, tuning it out. As he ran a secondary energy would begin to build up inside of him. The rise was minor for now, but would continue to swell over time with more movement.

Em had just drawn his weapon when Elliot was upon him. He sought to ventilate the officer, via the scythe he bore in his left hand. His swing would come at an angle to Em's right collar bone, bringing his free hand to his waist just after he torqued. He rode off the momentum caused by the swinging of his arms back and fourth as he ran, adding strength and speed to his attack. Even still, the hella dulled point probably wouldn't dig to far into the man's body, a couple inches maybe however it would shatter the collar bone. Em could continue his charge, or he could defend, though it was unlikely he could do both efficiently.
(Edit:
Charges:
.67 - Concussive
.25 - Secondary)

All at once Elliot's body would resonate as if a human tuning fork. Trembles shot through his body as he felt light headed, trying his damnedest to resist from passing out from the battle cry. He was no stranger to pain, his last match proved his almost super human tolerance, pressing on to fight with two broken limbs, but this was new. His sight went slightly hazy, his ears rung. It sucked, but he wasn't the only one that was going to suffer from the attack.

Elliot kept a steadfast grip on his weapon, dealing with the pain, knowing it would pay off tenfold.

"FWACK!!"

Elliot's kama plunged into Em's right collar, closer to the shoulder. The vibrations had taken a lot of the strength out of the attack, though Ell still had momentum on his side. Initially penetrating about an inch and a half or so after breaking the bone, the vibrations in the blade would widen, and worsen the damage, acting like a small jackhammer essentially, and it didn't stop there...

Clumsily hurling forward Elliot would collide with Em, the height difference and Elliot's position causing his forehead to crash into the the pig's snout. Then, with a mix of anger, and pure reaction Elliot would discharge an optic blast straight into Em's grill. The blast would empty a good deal of Elliot's reserved energy into the man's mouth, along with his front row of teeth.
Let's see him dodge a laser at point blank.

"PEYUUUUUU"

Officer down.

(Charges:
.47 Concussive
.25 Secondary)

(How is it impossible? Because it's cloudy? Maybe you're misunderstanding my abilities. He get's his energy from the sunlight, much like a solar cell. Which still operate to some extent even on the darkest of days. In my profile to Vintrict I listed that so long as there is enough light to see his powers can still work, just to a lesser degree, which is why after three posts he still doesn't have a full post's worth of charge in him. You can't just ignore attack because you don't like them. Also you mentioned in your post nothing of a "retard" mode, just shaking, and that he could keep his grip on his weapon, but it would just hurt him. You can't pull an "LOL NO" after his strike hits you, which it would considering it was already raised and coming down with no physical defense. You said it would maybe redden his skin, so how does it jump to "Split the entire palm down the middle" and force me to loose my grip? How do you know my character can fight through the millisecond of pain it would take to swing the weapon? Where I'm from they call that puppeteering amigo. In fact, you really didn't give any specific effects leaving it up to me to fill in the blanks, :

S'okay though.)


Em obviously wasn't looking too well, or maybe he was just underestimating Elliot. As stated before, he was one tough hombre, the scientific upgrades made him so. He still had some wits about him, though still missing a few marbles. But even without, he was hungry for this money, like any other man who grew up with holes in their shoes and nothing in their stomachs.

Anyway as he let go of his kama, since apparently some other worldly force dictated he should, the hand would continue forward, brushing briefly with Em as he moved, long enough for...

"Bzzzrt-kak-kak!!"

Elliot used the terrain to his advantage, as he had been planning.
A thick ribbon of azure would bridge Elliot's finger tip and Em's body, conveying within it nearly an amp of electricity, nearly deadly for a human, surely paralyzing for the dhamp-something. The energy had been built up as an artificial defense mechanism. There would be no additional pooling, no sensing, at least not until it was too late, jumping between the forms almost automatically, like licking the third rail. It would just be residing in Elliot one second and charging all over Em's soaked body the next, making him foam at the mouth like a rabid dog. Kinda sucks.

Em would convulse, and loose control of his muscles as his body would fry and pop, the scent of burning fabric and flesh hitting Elliot's nose, causeing a smile to curl across his mouth as he began to come out of his shakeyness.

.67 Concussive
.0 - Electricity