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Post by valekin on Mar 30, 2007 13:24:17 GMT -8
The maniac Valekin Von Kaluskov XII would be found standing upon the roof of a warehouse. He stood atop the building waiting for a new opponent. He had beaten his last one, and nearly killed Kiff. If it wasn't for the good Doctor, Kiff would be pushing up dasies. Anyway, our well loved maniac was wearing practically his usual. The Panzer-1 gloves over his hands, yet not his fingers. His trench coat with the rolled up sleeves, and the tail that went down to nearly his ankles. The pair of black leather pants, and his Panzer Boots.
The right Panzer glove glowed a light crimson. It's bloodlust rivaled his very own. The maniac longed to sink his hands in the guts of his opponents. Seeking their still beating hearts for sustenance. He was a monster, and this tournament was only feeding his drive for slaughter.
He stood alone on the roof of the warehouse. Flat as it would be, it was still slippery. The slats that covered the top were meant for water to pour off of. Yet they would support a battle.
Hye ha ha ha ha ha ha ha....
HYE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA![/i]
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Post by Keith on Mar 30, 2007 15:24:58 GMT -8
His last fight in this tournament of shards was a little too close for comfort. But as a bonus, Keith managed to get a glimpse on what his last opponent's Qi was like. It was something to increase offense and defensive capabilities from what Keith had deduced. Meaning it gives your blows extra "POW" and your defenses extra fortitude. Keith was slightly in pain but his shard caused the Qi disruption to subside.
However, Keith's shard started to glow as it seemed to be close to another shard. Which had led him to the rooftop of a warehouse. He had time to kill before meeting Cliff at the bar at 8 tonight. Might as well test out his shard's abilities and capabilities in this next fight.
This tournament to Keith was about adaptability. To live, one must learn to adapt under any situation or circumstance. Failure to adapt means a possible end or maybe death. And Keith wasn't ready to be "finished" just yet.
Approaching the warehouse, Keith would either take the stairs if there were any or climb up the ladder. It seemed that his shard glowed even more the closer it got to another shard. Keith's next opponent was pretty damn close.
I should be pretty close...
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Post by valekin on Mar 30, 2007 15:38:19 GMT -8
There was an access ladder on the northern side of the building. Valekin's shard began to glow a bright crimson. It could sense the shard and blood of the human being coming to him. A gust of wind blew over the building, and threw aside his hair. Both eyes ellipsed, but the left glowed a faint purple for a moment. Then it faded. It was the poltergeist Klaus, that haunted his mind.
In all actuality, it wasn't really a ghost. But a mere shadow of a memory that wouldn't die. On the edge of madness, Valekin began to hear Klaus' voice. It was part of the reason why he had gone insane.
HYE HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!
The mad laughter of Valekin reverberated in the immediate vicinity. He knew his opponent could hear him, yet he couldn't control himself. The mere suggestion of bloodshed made him burst out into laughter. His right hand slipped behind his back for a second, where something precious was hidden. After giving it a squeeze, he let it go. And continued his mad laughter.
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Post by Keith on Mar 30, 2007 15:53:51 GMT -8
Keith raised a brow for a bit. Same laughter with the same hint of a Eastern European accent. Maybe it was his imagination because there's plenty of people in SoCal that are of East European descent or nationality. Making his way to the rooftop, Keith stood on top and faced his opponent.
His last opponent was right. Each fight and each fighter is different. Meaning you have to take each fight seriously. Keith was calm and quiet and he allowed his new opponent to have his fit of insane laughter. Didn't know what he was laughing about but it didn't matter.
What mattered was that this person was going to be his opponent. It was time to fight.
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Post by valekin on Mar 30, 2007 16:13:03 GMT -8
The metal soled boots rasped and clinked across the roof as he closed the distance between himself and the midpoint between him and his enemy. His trench coat billowed behind him, as well as his long hair. An idiotic smirk was on his face, baring two of four sharpened canines. His elliptical eyes focused on his opponent.
He began to salivate.
The bloodlust was becoming uncontrollable. His senses were washed in a dream, he could smell the death on himself, the blood pumping through his enemy's veins. The sea. He could feel it all. He stopped four meters from his opponent, and grinned. Both hands went up near his face, lax fingers. From that arm stance, he could go into any number of strikes. His left leg preceeded his right, and his knee was up, being his heel was up off the ground.
"Only a dead man come near, no one will shed a tear, for no one holds us dear, now you will give into fear."
Hye ha ha ha!
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Post by Keith on Mar 30, 2007 16:33:17 GMT -8
"Only a dead man come near, no one will shed a tear, for no one holds us dear, now you will give into fear."
Lovely rhyme...
Keith paid attention to the glove that was glowing a bright crimson. Like the color of glowing blood. Seemed that his opponent was lusting for blood. At this moment, Keith's blood. Keith was going to have to play this fight cautiously and intelligently.
Was he going to make the first strike? No. Since this guy was out for blood, Keith was going to make him "earn" it. If the guy tried anything funny, Keith would have to fuck him up severely. Keith casually adjusted his black shades and kept his eyes on his opponent.
He would allow this person to come up to him and attempt to spill his blood.
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Post by valekin on Mar 30, 2007 16:41:44 GMT -8
The first strike would be Valekin's he couldn't wait. He was eager. He took a few steps and closed the ground before he was within range. He sent a quick jab with a balled fist toward his enemy's face. Unknown to Keith, this was a Shadow Claw strike. Which is basically a feign. The strike's only force was in it's speed and mass. Sure, it'd really hurt if Keith got hit in the mouth, or nose. But it wouldn't be as bad as the strike that was going to follow it.
His left hand had dropped to his right hip and went behind it quickly. Was that the sound of metal vibrating against leather? Why yes it was. Just as the jab would be coming back, eight inches of carbon steel would be arching for Keith's guts. Add that on to his arm length, and the boy was well within range to be disemboweled. Of course, the movement wasn't as fast as it could have been if Valekin were sane.
"Bring on the flood of thy enemy's blood!"
Hye ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
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Post by Keith on Mar 30, 2007 17:14:45 GMT -8
As soon as the crazed opponent got close enough, Keith was going to just let him have it. Keith could see a balled fist coming in his direction. To Keith, it wasn't that fast. Despite the lack of speed, Keith wasn't going to take any chances. Keith's biggest advantage was his speed and you could bet your sweet cherry ass that he was going to take full advantage of his speed.
Before the punch or whatever was going to hit, Keith would take the initiative and launch a counter attack. Quickly, Keith would bring his right leg foward and strike his opponent in the abdomen with a hard front snap kick. With Keith's speed and his opponent being close enough, the kick should connect.
Whether the kick connects or not, Keith would bring his leg back and launch another hard and fast front snap kick to his opponent's gut, bring it back and launch a hard front snap kick to the solar plexus.
After getting a taste of his last opponent's Qi, Keith wasn't going to hold back nor pull any punches. Any opponent Keith comes across, he was going to just let them have it.
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Post by valekin on Mar 30, 2007 17:41:05 GMT -8
Unfortunately, that wasn't Valekin's Qi. It was merely a technique. Cue the villain theme song. Things just went south for everyone. This has happened before. People have constantly made the mistake of kicking at him higher than his hips. He pivoted on his left foot before the kick could hit him. And with that lightning quick movement, an agile right arm had moved to cradle the leg that had snapped at him. Left hand, as free as a bird.
"Oh what a nightmare you live in now."
Valekin smiled, his elliptical eyes focused. He struck terror into the hearts of his enemies. And now Keith was just getting a taste as he hit the tip of the iceberg. Now it would all be up to his opponent. Lose, or well... procrastinate, and give the maniac time to get the blade into his hands that was still hidden.
The move he had made would pin the leg between Valekin's right arm, and his belly. Leaving the rest of Keith's body wide open for attack.
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Post by Keith on Mar 31, 2007 0:15:33 GMT -8
"Oh what a nightmare you live in now."
It seemed that his opponent was going to try something funny by attempting to grab his right leg with the right arm. The movement was somewhat fast but Keith was much faster. Before the crazed lunatic could grab his leg, Keith would quickly pull his leg back to safety.
His opponent's right arm was still out. With lightning speed and reflexes, Keith would throw a hard uppercut with his left hand. The strike would be aimed for his opponent's right elbow joint. Should the strike connect, his opponent should feel pain within his right arm.
A direct hit with the right amount of strength should break the elbow and render the arm useless. Keith didn't feel like being cut up and served as a sacrifice. So, Keith was planning to hurt his opponent as much as possible.
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Post by valekin on Mar 31, 2007 7:04:29 GMT -8
As soon as the grab failed, Valekin's left arm had drawn the knife. Eight inches of curved serrated carbon steel glittered in the light. The uppercut that had been going for his right elbow would be met by the blade coming at it in a downstroke, which, if it met the fist or not, would arch up for a diagonal right to left upward slash. A smirk fell across the maniac's lips.
The metal plated boots rapped on the roof as he stepped towards his opponent carefully. His twisted mind reeled, so focused upon his enemy. That knife was without a doubt sharp, and very dangerous. His arcs and cuts were always extremely precise.
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Post by Keith on Mar 31, 2007 12:30:35 GMT -8
OOC: Is the knife in the Fencing Grip or Reverse/Commando Grip?
It was slightly too late as Keith's left forearm met with the blade from his opponent's knife. So it couldn't be helped that Keith wasn't able to avoid getting slashed by a knife. Seemed that his opponent was well armed and definitely knew how to use a knife in a fight.
However, one would have to be careful. Because there really is no such thing as knife fighting. The knife is a tool of assassination and not fighting. Assassinations are quick and straight to the point, killing, nothing more and nothing less. It seemed that his opponent's intention was to kill thus which is why he had the knife.
Because this person had a knife alone, Keith was going to have to be extra careful. No matter how fast you are, how strong you are, how intelligent you are, or how wise you are, everybody's susceptible to a knife strike. Keith was by far no exception to that. As soon as Keith felt his left forearm get slashed by the knife, he would instinctively throw a hard front snap kick with the right leg aimed for the abdomen.
Keith would use the speed and force of the kick to push his opponent back while doing some damage. At the same time, Keith would step back a few steps. He would be losing blood. Which meant, Keith would have to end the fight as soon as possible. But with his opponent's psychological state, it would be easier said than done.
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Post by valekin on Mar 31, 2007 12:40:09 GMT -8
(Fencing grip.)
The blood sprayed onto Valekin, and his shard reacted. Just as he got kicked, he staggered back, and moved foreward as if nothing had happened. The blood that had sprayed onto him from the knife's slash had been absorbed, and replenished him. Valekin was like a tank now. The swirling pools of deep blue focused now. He was gaining ground. Pushing his enemy back towards the ladder.
"Come now friend, I want your flesh to rend!"
With that ridiculous smirk on his face, he stepped forward and the blade bit toward his opponent's midsection. Upon further examination of the strike. One could deduce that it was a feign. Valekin wasn't some new blade wielder. He was apparently well versed in fencing, and dueling. With that knife, the tide of the battle turned. From a stalemate; dodge for dodge, catch for catch. Miss for miss. To the form of Check.
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Post by Keith on Mar 31, 2007 12:59:50 GMT -8
This was pretty interesting... Keith saw that his opponent had absorbed his blood and had gotten stronger. His opponent seemed to be "vampirish." He wasn't bleeding that badly, but Keith didn't want his opponent to absorb anymore of his blood. So, he'd have to be pretty damn careful for the rest of this fight.
"Come now friend, I want your flesh to rend!"
This was an interesting predicament. But the fight would be far from over. It wouldn't be over until Keith says it will be over. Though it made his opponent like a tank, did it make him heavy like a tank? Keith wouldn't know. Now the knife strike came at his midsection.
In a fast response, Keith would quickly grab the opponent's wrist to prevent himself from getting stabbed. Result should be a Morote Dori with both hands grabbing the wrist. It would take a lot of strength and effort to just throw an opponent. However, with the attempted stab with a fencing grip, the opponent had already provided the movement and momentum.
Should Keith manage to execute the Morote Dori, Keith would use the deranged psycho's own momentum against himself and throw him off the edge of the warehouse rooftop. This was one of the reasons the style of Aikido was created, to defend against people armed with swords, knives, and other blades. The style is an offshoot of Japanese Jiu-Jitsu. But Aikido focuses more on counter-attacks, pressure points, a bit of throwing, and defending against attackers with bladed weapons.
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Post by valekin on Mar 31, 2007 13:13:42 GMT -8
Unfortunate that he didn't see that it twas indeed a feign. Fencers utilize feigns to trick their opponents into a bad position. Of course, this bad position, was one where Keith's arms would be out, trying to grab Valekins. With a slight recoiling of Valekin's arm, and the reversing of grip, he had done his opponent in. With two quick wrist movements. The blades of the knife would drag across both of his opponent's wrists before he could get a hold on him.
Should he cut his opponent, blood would be in short supply for Keith with the total cuts. Things weren't really going so well for Keith were they? Had he met his match? The danger level had seriously spiked. How far was Keith prepared to go to win? He could retreat from the roof. Or he could continue to fight Valekin with injuries. While the insane Serb remained unscathed.
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