Tournament Battle #2 Dante & Mora V.s Kuja & Iznan

[Dante]

Dante nodded at what Mora had just done. "Wow... Good thinking, I guess? Dante saw edges opening up at the corners of the cloak, knowing the he woul have to leave that way and no other. He dragged the cleaver and ran towards the edge, hoping that Mora was following him. If not, she was as in as much trouble as the others. Dante did an Indiand Jones duck. Thank God he wasn't wearing a hat.

He looked for any sign of Mora, but saw nothing of her, sighing as he looked at this cleaver. There were no marks to indicate the strands and thier struggle to strangle him, but he knew what had happened and would have to polish the blade at home. He ran to the edges of the arena, leaning against the wall to rest. What if Iznan or Kuja saw the opening? Would they also be out at the same time that Dante was, leaving Mora's plan to back fire? No, he wouldn't think of that. With the pillar of Darkness and the strangling strands, he could only hope that Mora would be the lucky one.

[Frog]

A beam of concentrated red magical light pierced out through the top of the robe as it shrank down, then split into two that moved apart and downward from each other, slicing through the thickest edges of the enlarged trim like a knife through butter despite their thickness. The result was a large chunk of said enlarged end sitting alone on the field some distance behind Kuja with its overhang covering the distance between himself and it. He had passed through the newly constructed "hole" in the giant article of clothing without barely being brushed by any of it. thanks to his precision. Wherever the beams were coming from, however, was already gone by time he was again visible in the light.

"Isn't that obvious, my dear?" he asked Mora, finally looking over at her as if he were actually present at the fight. His smile was entirely self-serving, but also oddly genuine. Despite the fact that she'd used her shield to take the high fall and probably couldn't use it again right away, he still declined to take any offensive actions against the girl. Apparently it was all still in Iznan's hands as far as the Angel of Death was concerned.

[lysander]

[You've triggered my trap card.]

Iznan shivered in horror as Dante sliced through the strands of "industrial silk", and still had the capability to destroy the pillars before him. Following the signature of the strands still wrapped around his cleaver, Iznan felt the other begin to run and then... An opening was available, but it was for an oh so brief moment. Light from the outside world shone through. He had a brief glimmer of hope, believing that there was no way that Dante could escape through such a small gap, and yet the cleaver-wielding annoyance proved him wrong. With Dante's escape, Iznan was confined to a guaranteed failure, to be swept up by the fringes of the cloak into his own destruction.

Or… That’s what would’ve happened, if Dante had not fallen into the one life-or-death trap that had been lain for him. If only the boy had been wiser… Oh well.

In reality, things don’t go so smoothly for the underdogs, and when outmatched against an opponent even the simplest of mistakes wreaks death and demise. In this case, Dante was foolhardy. He assumed he knew the consequences of his own actions when realistically those consequences would be far greater, far more devastating. There was no going back now. There was no saving him.

As Dante swung through the air before him he met no resistance. The strands would not latch onto the blade; indeed, it would pass through them as if trying to beat off a ghost. Because of this, Dante would have no reason to cast his magic to become aware of them, but whether or not he was aware, he was already defeated. Even if Dante cast his notes, they would pass right through the strands, and do nothing. They could not be cut away once they had latched on. They were leaches, and one so foolish to walk into them would experience their full, unbridled brunt with nothing to relieve him.

As Dante swung his cleaver into them, and stepped among them to destroy as many as he could with his spell was when the trap was sprung. Not only was he close enough for twenty of the threads growing from the ground to wrap around him, but the more he moved around in those last few moments the more strands were allowed to cling to him, until all fifty had been gathered on his body. It could have been avoided, if Dante had simply not approached them, but unfortunately that was not the case. This was a solely defensive technique, and so when Dante fell deep into its treacherous snare it was all his own folly.

The entire ordeal took less than seconds to occur.

Dante may have let out a weak scream in his last few seconds as the realization of his actions, or he may have accepted it silently. He might have stumbled around fighting to stay conscious, or dropped to the ground weakly in one great upheaval. No matter how it happened the sum of the equation was the same. With fifty slowing strands wrapped around Dante’s form, complete paralysis and total unconsciousness were the only options left. Not a slight disadvantage, but an absolute vulnerability.

Not even Mora could save him. It was happening so quickly that the cloak had barely just started to be pulled back in. Mora couldn’t even see what was happening, and Dante wouldn’t be able to shout loud enough to tell her a thing with how weak the threads would make him. Mora wouldn’t even know that Dante was in trouble until he was dead. It was a shame. It was depressing. Iznan wondered if Dante felt scared. Iznan wondered if Dante felt alone.

Iznan was on top of Dante before he hit the ground. He had sense the tripping of his trap, and his unnatural speed and reaction time had him in that corner of the arena quicker than could be observed by any onlooker. With a swift kick, he knocked the cleaver upward out of Dante’s hand, catching it. He didn’t want the unconscious and paralyzed enemy to make any dangerous spasms that might compromise his own life.

”I won’t kill you with your own weapon. I’ll leave you that dignity.”

[/color] He whispered into the other’s ear. One of his own small, silver blades appeared between his fingers and was drawn across Dante’s throat, cutting not only his jugular and carotid, but carrying over to slice open his wind pipe. Iznan would not take chances with an enemy who had fought valiantly. He might bleed to death, he might die of asphyxiation, or he might drown in his own blood, but even still... Dante would live for a few more seconds, maybe a minute if lucky. But why?

Iznan did as Dante had done, checking the pillar for structural weakness towards the base, and then slashing it threw in a just so way that it fell to the column of darkness. It was exactly what Dante had been doing. He went to the other pillar and did the same thing. It was a mimicry of what Dante had been doing less than moments ago. That was why he’d kept Dante alive for an added few seconds. So that the column of darkness would remain and Mora would not be clued in that her partner had met his untimely demise.

As the cloak was pulled inwards, and Kuja blew a hole through it, Iznan followed after as if it had been perfectly coordinated. Only his reaction time had allowed him to be on the other side of the cloak just a blink behind the powerful man before him. ”That’s one of them Mister.”[/color] He cracked his neck to the side, spinning the cleaver around in his hands. ”You still want me to deal with her as well, I take it?”[/color][/blockquote][/size]

[longer than I intended. That's what I get for trying to take a break.]

[Dante]

OOC: Dante is dead, so, Good luck Mora. Good battle everyone, I can't wait for another tournament that you guys will be in. I'll beat you next time, you bastards.

[Rocket!]

[OOC]

Hmmm....

Wouldn't the robe've been tight enough to prevent any movement? Like the cutting through it bit?

And why not have done the cutting earlier? I'm curious in that regard, especially given the whole bit where the robe's been there and all.

However, I knew from the start Mora wouldn't make it far. She's just not developed enough, and I can say the same for my own RPing abilities-- I haven't done much in the way of fighting.

As is such, I don't plan on pushing the matter.

However, I'm going to ask that you kick major butt in the next round. I'll be rooting!

[END OOC]


Mora froze. Dante hadn't given the signal for continuing the plan. And yet, the pillars kept falling.

The plan was that, after the robe, they'd charge the people when charged. Even if he'd changed his mind, he would've let her know.

If he was fighting, she'dve heard something...

And then both guys came from the (theoretically) unescapable robe trick... with Izzy's big fat smile. Either he was a big fan of wit, or...

Cue the awkward silence.

...

. . .

Slowly, Mora brought her hands in the air.

"If I give, will you guys not go about killing me?"

[Frog]

[ He didn't cut it before with his ability for cutting stuff that's tough to cut because he didn't care until it actually started coming at him in a way that would force him to move. And since Dante, your partner, was posting as if still running around cutting pillars was possible we assumed it wasn't going to actually be pressing down on us until he or you indicated specifically, which wasn't until he went for the escape. If we were in error to interpret as such then I offer my apologies. ]

"If you please Iznan dear," said the man in the thong to his partner. Kuja inwardly thought that the boy had done all right, though gave himself just as much credit for their progress so far.

Then their opponent forfeited.

'My my, one less soul for the Angel of Death to harvest. But her time will come eventually,' the Mystic thought with a melancholy look. Up in the sky what looked like a giant eye many miles above seemed to blink amidst blurring cloud cover before vanishing.

"I am merciful," was all he said.

[angelous]

Even though I'm in some trouble, or so to speak, I'm still mod of this tournament. The reason why I'm not intervening on your part Rocket is because the robe you used had no ability to do what you made it do, nor did you. Brezzen and Kuja were kind enough not to do anything about it, because I was going to either:

a) dq you

or

b) hurt you badly

[Rocket!]

Woah there Arke! I was just pointing out a few thoughts I had. I can hardly give up and ask for modding in the same post, right?

No worries. I forfeit.

...did I spell that right? >.>

Kick butt in the next round, guys! I'll be watching and learning!

[END MORA]

[lysander]

"It'd be my pleasure." Iznan smirked, stepping up to the plate. This Mora person hadn't really gotten on his nerves at all, but he could always get some good fun out of a one on one fight, or maybe a fun execution. It seemed to be pretty obvious which team would be advancing to the final rounds. With a casual saunter, one of Iznan's hands was shoved in his pockets. With the other, he tossed the cleaver over his shoulder, and one of his short knives appeared between his fingers. As if by a string, it slipped downward in the air, and as he rolled his wrist, the knife swung in an arrogantly intimidating manner.

That's when Mora forfeited. Iznan looked back and forth to see the verdict of the presiding officials. And with their consent, Mora was officially out of the tournament. The trickster threw his knife down and kicked the ground in a sort of frustration. "Awww, come on, man! Don't get my hopes up like that." He breathed out an indignant pout, and folded his arms over his chest. "Fine, fine. Just root us on in the next round."

[/color] He turned his back to the other, waving his hand dismissively. Mora was no longer a threat, and so there was no reason to fear the gun-toting maniac.[/size][/blockquote]