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GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

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GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Remæus on Sun Sep 14, 2008 11:20 am

Image
Kiyoshi Kazami
#28
Image
Spencer
#2

Match #3
versus
NO HOLDS BARRED


AS


Image
Komodo Dragon
Image
Badger

versus
ALL FANGS BARED





First post: Kiyoshi.
Restrictions: Spencer plays a badger, Kiyoshi plays a komodo dragon.
Arena: Watchers stream from once-pristine marble arenas, now strewn with blood, candy wrappers, and spilt soft drinks. The cacophony of their discussion harsh and unseemly. Talk is varied: Who will win the third round? What happened to those who lost the second round? and Dude, where are my pretzels? Despite the death, the carnage, the outright silliness of destruction, the aggregate of conversations are what one might expect after any sporting event.

All the meaning banter ceases when an overpowering torrent of noise bursts from four of the sixteen arenas. Nay, the arenas themselves erupt, numerous thorns of black, adamantine rock shattering the coliseums and writhing upward seventy meters in a bramble of destruction. A low palisade of like material strikes through the ruptured bedrock, forming a barrier a hundred meters in diameter, outside of which spectators now must stand to observe the next round of confrontations. Within it is a dangerous weave of jaggy, razor sharp wires, rocky protrusions, towering obstructions, and deep-cutting rills of oil slicking the uneven, metallic landscape. Littering this is the mess of marble debris from the original arena, the white blocks now speckled with by the spray of dark, viscous fluid bursting from subterranean geysers.

Please remember to be mindful of the Official Tournament Rules.

  • There will be a 30 day time limit on all matches.
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  • Actions will be voided if the poster can not accurately explain them within the post.
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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Fri Sep 19, 2008 8:20 pm

Going to the lounge was a big mistake, opines Spencer, thrashing his muzzle sideways and suffering the distinct vibrato of his snout walloping a gnarled metal beam. As the reverb spreads to his fangs, he recalls the mellow euphony of the contralto, which, along with an exotic liquor, had sublimely pilfered his inhibitions and caused him to succumb to what he can only describe as a hallucinogenic nightmare. Some deviant, probably the masochistic loudmouth who insisted on wrecking the furniture, surely slipped a narcotic into his drink. If so, none of this lunacy is real, he speculates hopefully, squinting at the vicious maze of dark, rigid bands twisting above him and contorting the clear blue sky into a streaked, mottled rag. Presenting the horrific possibility that right now I am being rapaciously violated by the bastard. Not to mention explaining why, in this dream, I am naked and being ridden by a heavy slab. Ugh! Shrugging off a fragmented marble pillar, he further ruminates, It doesn’t explain why I’m imagining myself as an overgrown, fur-covered rodent, though.

Distantly lilting over the rubble, and overpowering his reverie, is what seems to be spectators roaring encouragement for animals in a pit fight, a blare reminiscent of those few seconds in his match against the Xindi when he plunged steel mercilessly down its neck and chest. A profane act; one he would not have even considered years earlier. Had the astounded creature whispered its abjurement? Regardless, this noise is unmistakable. It is a bloodthirsty throng, a herald of war, another round in this ridiculous tournament. Spencer‘s mouth sharpens to a scowl, and he hisses, "Even if it is not, I will treat it so."

Rock slams into the uneven ground behind him and crumbles where it lands. He can feel droplets of oil, descending from the zenith their erupting incubation puddles flung them to, splatter on his already slick pelt. The spray is practically everywhere, further polluting an already foul landscape. Yet, as he pads inaudibly through the inconsistent shade, weaving his way through the mire in search of his prey, Spencer begins to appreciate the repugnant geysers and their offering of camouflage to both scent and sight.

Surmounting a precipice of debris stabbing wearily skyward, much like a jaguar stalking from the jungle canopy, his keen, beady eyes take in the expanse of this peculiar ring of combat. Everything is monochrome, with black becoming an increasingly popular value as the viscous, caliginous fluid pours from the soil. Further away, on the outskirts of mechanical disaster, is a spread of color. The spectators, who will doubtlessly be disappointed by what Spencer anticipates to be a stealth engagement.
conditio sine qua non

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby FutureKiyoshi on Sat Sep 20, 2008 1:00 pm

There was a painful sound crack of bone, one that would make most anyone's skin crawl, or perhaps turn their heads in pain. It was not the sound of bone breaking, but a sudden change in bone structure. Some found themselves elongating, stretching to fit their new designated shape, others shortened, shifted for a quadrupedal stance. While even others manifested themselves at the end of the formerly human soldier; protruding into a long, thick tail. A thin tongue probed the air, the large reptilian head panning back and forth, Kiyoshi was taking his bearings. Now a Komodo dragon, the most drastic change to the Halptide Hawk was his mind set. The change from soft skin to hard scales, the inclusion of a tail, and rather sharp claws was quite different from his normal state, but his thoughts, so cold, so practical, so decisive.

Hunger gripped the reptilian form. Not only had he not consumed much between his two previous fights, but the transformation processes must have accentuate the condition. Had he been human he might have taken a moment to try and deduce how he had been transformed in the first place. Magic was always the worst, as he had spent a lengthy time as a female because of it. But in this state, his tongue flicked out over and over again and simply thought, I'm hungry. Lifting his head, he saw but one way out of wherever it was that he had been taken to. He stalked slowly through the hole to climb into what appeared to be yet another arena that he had fought upon before.

The loud roar of the crowd were overshadowed by the sound of the marble surface tearing itself apart. The formally pristine well trimmed lawn and majestically white stone surface changed to a dark near demonic battle ground befitting a heavy metal concert. The reptilian head continued to pan side to side as it walked, the newly formed Jacobson's organ helped take in his surroundings. Amongst the harsh sulfurous spouts of flame was something else, something distant. The sensory plaques in his feet felt the black oil as it strode deeper into the new arena.

At this point it seemed, not only had he been changed, but so had the arena, the method of combat and the stakes. Perhaps, Kiyoshi may reflect later that he would have liked to have said “Now this is more like it,” but without the ability to speak, nor want to for that matter, he wouldn't at the time being.
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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Sun Sep 21, 2008 7:52 pm

The faint odor of his prey causes Spencer’s coal-like eyes to shift toward the creature slinking a fair distance away. In response, the black fur around his muzzle pulls back, exposing his sharp incisors; his whiskers twitch involuntarily; and he suppresses a growl reflex that began building in his throat, allowing the pressure to instead disperse slowly through his nasal cavity. An infuriating, but harrowing, reality is that his sentience is ebbing away, bestial instinct overwhelming it with an indomitable current, but that pales as an inward ferocity ensnares his mind. Whoever Spencer once was goes dormant, and a new personality takes over with the swelling of his medulla oblongata and pons. Only the high-level knowledge that the animal below is a threat remains, translating into action - if he is to survive, he must fight. Besides, the notion of feasting on dry, scaly, reptilian flesh is to intoxicating to be ignored.

Covertly, Spencer repeals his acme, slinking onto the last recalled trajectory of the komodo dragon. There, he chooses a plot agreeable to his needs, where there is no severe wash of oil, but, instead, small hunks of strewn marble and the occasional barb of metal. Spencer begins to burrow, aerating the soil as he works his way beneath it with enormous claws and relentlessly swift swipes, leaving behind little indication of his deeds. The ruptured earth, recently churned by the arena’s transformation, appears no different than a hundred other nearby spots.

Within the dark embrace of gritty soil and rough, chilly rock, absorbing each reverberation of movement fluttering throughout the ground, Spencer anticipates the passage of his adversary. It will doubtlessly tread above him, pause to observe its surroundings, and wonder at the lingering musk of a warm, mammalian pelt.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby FutureKiyoshi on Tue Sep 23, 2008 1:49 pm

As he walked forward, there was a sudden fear of losing himself. Kiyoshi's mind began to be dominated by this alter, fabricated persona. He focused as hard as he could, forcing back the near insatiable need of food and gripped onto his humanity. All was not lost. The world became more clear to him, and while he still had the lingering hunger, he remembered what his objective was. Perhaps, it was the remains of the neural pathways that had been shifted to compose the reptilian mind and their basis of being advanced from the beginning, or perhaps the transformation process left the human intellect in tact, but the strong animal senses and urges could easily take over one's mind if they weren't careful. There was no way to be sure.

The Komodo dragon continued to stalk forward. His tongue flicking too and fro, it picking up the recently aerated earth with the Jacobson's organ. He turned his head in the direction from which it came and stepped forward ever so slowly. This wasn't a simple hunt, which part of him at this moment would have preferred some simple carrion. This was a still a battle.

He paid attention to the sensitive scales beneath his feet, awaiting any kind of sensation from below as he began to move forward once more. He assumed his opponent was underground, there wasn't much else to go by, really. He would also probably not come out unless the trap was sprung. There was no fear in his mind, no overly tensed sensations. He was calm and cool, yet as his claws dug into the surface with each step, the sharp weapons treading into the earth, every muscle in his body was ready to move.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Thu Sep 25, 2008 8:16 pm

Even within the close-pressing gloam of his swiftly-crafted burrow, there are observations wheedling deep into Spencer’s subconscious. Distracting ones, born of touch, like the gnash of pebble-laden soil against his heavy pelt, sliding noncommittally across his musculature as if on a liquid bed of countless tides; minuscule grains of silt irritating his whiskers and nostrils, urging him to twitch erratically while trepidation demands he remain absolutely still. Senseless ones, like the splash of a viscous substance bursting from clay pots sculpted through geothermal dynamics originating deep beneath the arena’s surface to speckle the nearby escarpment, flood rills, and defile any remnant of lushness in the bleak terrain; the low groan of shifting anticlines, forcing subterranean cisterns to empty their bowels with tremendous pressure, which subsequently manifests as shimmering black pillars lancing skyward tens of meter; the subtle motion of soil swaying like a mother's arms around him; and insects and worms and small rodents making their way across his fur, all heading in the same direction, as if he were just another heavy stone in the ground to circumnavigate.

His mind, in its current condition, is incapable of appreciating these commonplace wonders. It is with a fixation on the things directly relating to life and death that he moves forward, so, for the moment, the only sensations Spencer dredges to his consciousness are the vibrations above him, resonating through the dirt with the earnestness of his prey’s predation. He shifts slightly, his muscles tense as he readies himself to lunge, his ears and nerves attuning to the distinct sound and vibration of a large land animal, and, with acuity, he awaits the precise moment to strike. It is not when it the beast is immediately above him, he decides, but when its turns away in frustration, tasting skyward, its tongue extending to succor on the pheromones of what it hopes will be its next meal.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby FutureKiyoshi on Sat Sep 27, 2008 12:25 pm

It was no mere meal that Kiyoshi searched for; victory was his goal. His sensory plaques felt reverberations from behind, quite different from the various other methods of movement around him. An applied memory, more than likely a factor within the transformation process, made Kiyoshi realized that it was some creature, of good size at that, was burrowing upwards from behind at a hasty pace. Such thought patterns were probably induced to allow the combatants to function without potential confusion of having to relearn life in their new state. These would include basic animal instincts, for example.

Luckily for the former genetically engineered human, who was used to utilizing speed at a moments notice in various forms of attacks, the Komodo dragon was known for bursts of speed. His keen claws tore into the delapidated surface, pulling him at a brisk pace. The new arena was Hellish in comparison to the lush green lawn, and smooth white marble from before. The cold reptilian stare came around to where Kiyoshi believed his opponent would surface. His dense tail of powerful muscle and bone moved in preparation to strike, and jaws opened ready for a venomous and bacteria laced bite.

In this moment there was no way to be sure what part of the mind was working. Was it entirely Kiyoshi's drive to win, or was it pure instinct of a predator and prey relationship on a level that had been forced back to the Technocrat's subconscious? It was when he briefly thought about how he'd have to make a report on the phenomenon at a later date, that he knew for sure, he was still in charge.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Mon Sep 29, 2008 7:48 pm

Spencer was not burrowing upward, nor is he, but attentively awaiting - with muscles tense and nerves taught - the slightest indication of advantage regarding the placement of his foe. In lieu of that, he receives a jarring shock. Not receiving from, but sharing with, the gnarly lizard scraping at the dirt above him. With the same startling horror encapsulated in the scene of a wart-besmirched, rat-haired troll flashing her disproportionate bosom at you during gym class, and winking inappropriately, the ground beneath Spencer and Kiyoshi crumbles.

In a more cerebral state, Spencer would easily have anticipated this capsizing: the fleeing vermin and the low groans emanating upward*1 were indicative enough to alert him and, even prior to those, he felt vibrations fluttering throughout the soil.*2 Such is not the case, and even with momentous shifts and raucous spurts announcing inevitable collapse, his present circumstance, where instinct prevails over cunning, made prognostication impossible.

So, too, for his foe, who is ardently contributing to the demise of their disintegrating sod dais by tramping it with weighty steps and tearing it with heavy claws.

Inevitably, the two descend into the center of a sea of debris two-dozen feet in diameter and more than half that in depth, the sinkhole towing in its wash enormous chunks of marble, vicious shrapnel, and barb wire as lethal as any garrote: all to fill in a void caused by oil, transferring itself to the surface and forcing the surface underground. Yet, in confusion’s midst, Spencer’s burrowing prowess, innate to his pedigree, allows him to manipulate the situation in ways his drowning counterpart can hardly fathom. He ascends to a higher position, opens his maw, and dares to shatter the neck of his enemy from behind.
_____________
1: ref p3.p1.s3
2: ref p2.p3.s1

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby FutureKiyoshi on Wed Oct 01, 2008 12:06 pm

It was not the first time Kiyoshi had ever felt the ground below him give way. It usually caused an unsettling feeling as gravity pulled oneself rapidly down below. Yet, he did not even feel this emotion. His head tilted sideways, as he maneuvered his sliding body to land upon a sizable slab of marble that skidded down the side. Peering over it and downward, his tongue flicking relentlessly. The Komodo dragon breathed slowly, calmly as he took in all the stimuli. His razor sharp talons dug into the surface, as he gripped for his life.

Most of the other creatures had moved on, avoiding the peril, through the various opening and closing pathways of now mostly soft dirt. Heavy rocks of various sizes would jarringly shift, closing pathways, threatening to crush inhabitants. This added sense of fear, and sudden self preservation wouldn't resonate in Kiyoshi's mind.

His tail lifted into the air, every muscle throughout his body ready for action. As a tactician, Kiyoshi new the advantages of the high ground. Most learned that early on, and if his opponent hadn't been driven off like the others trying to avoid the calamity he would probably try for an attack from there, amiss the descending pit, That, was of course, Kiyoshi thought, if he was thinking from a human stand point. He wasn't quite sure how animal instincts would stack up to even a mind that wasn't engineered specifically for combat, but never the less, he stayed alert.

The battle, if you could even call it that from this point, wasn't over. He figured that he would have been teleported out of there and reverted back to his human form if his opponent had been crushed. Through a great deal of luck, as such was always possible in any reality, nothing similar had happened to him. He had remained atop his ride, as cataclysmic as it all had been. It was as he neared the bottom, that the attack finally came from above. The vicious snarl of the rodent came from behind. The dragon's tail snapped across. The tense, sturdy muscles would slam into the creature, jarring it out of the way. Now, wasting no time, Kiyoshi would turn to face his opponent, lunging forward with his forelimbs, the knives at each tip of his former fingers wanting nothing more than to tear into the furred flesh. The serrated blades housed in his reptilian mouth were doused in his own saliva, as he began to lash out and bite.

NOTE: When you miss an obvious attack, and I tell you, you cannot edit in a dodge.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Sat Oct 04, 2008 11:59 am

Within the tumult of collapsing soil, already vanishing beneath successive waves of dirt as the earthen walls crumble into the locus of destruction, Spencer managed to stave off vertigo and avoided the dangers lurking throughout the crushing ruin. Not only that, but he placed himself in a superior position to his enemy, and, seeing his foe’s struggle to divine his position, struck out.

Successfully.

Spencer’s enormous fangs instantly rip through the heavy scales along his enemy’s neck, grinding through a gap in its spinal column and steadily grinding deeper to, inevitably, separate the upper vertebrae. His jaw clamps shut, the transverse condyle firmly locking into the long cavity of his cranium, making it impossible to shake him off. As he continues to apply pressure to his, perhaps lethal, bite, he begins to shifts his weight overtop his enemy, hopefully preventing their further movement, although the silt, clay, and loam pouring down around them is already executing a fine job at that.

In reality, were Spencer to abandon his foe at this juncture, it would be crippled to a point where any escape from their burial, which is the logical and unavoidable fate of things at the bottom of the pit, is impossible; the paralysis, resulting from Spencer’s attack, will make them unable to move, and the crushing ground and lack of available air will slowly siphon the life out of its body.

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Re: GT2008 Round 3: #2 Spencer versus #28 Kiyoshi

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Circ on Tue Oct 07, 2008 7:08 pm

Crackling, gasping, and trembling emanate from below as Spencer grinds his jaw around the lizard’s neck, causing its vertebrae to crumble. He can feel the spasms rippling through its failing flesh, from snout to tail, indicative of immense pain; the paroxysms caressing his belly as his weight smothers it, forcing the air from its rasping lungs and hastening its final breath. It is soon dead. With his teeth still clamping firmly into its decimated spine, Spencer’s posterior claws churn, pulling him from the earthen tomb in reverse order. A long, grueling extraction. When he finally reaches the surface, thin trails of dirt fall from the creases in his pelt.

Spencer tosses the lizard aside in disgust, flexing his jaw muscles in an effort to relax them from the strain they had just been through. He rattles his head, and, on opening his eyes, is astonished to see there is no reptilian monstrosity before him, but a man, the hilt of the seax extending out the back of his neck.

“I guess the drugs wore off, or maybe this is just the next round,” he muses, patting the dust off his fatigues.

He stands there a while, wondering if some next insanity is waiting to transpire, but it doesn’t. The only new stimuli is cheering lilting over the harsh landscape of the arena, perhaps coming from the crowd encircling the next. No threat seeps into his consciousness, no looming uncertainty. It is just him and a dead body, each resting comfortably in a glorified junkyard. Dragging the corpse closer by the ankle, he inspects its possessions. Some sort of container full of miscellaneous equipment, two handguns, and yet another blade. Nothing really noteworthy. A lot of ammunition. Extracting the seax from the back of the guy’s head, Spencer wipes the gray matter off the blade and carts it, and the rest of his loot, out of the arena.

“Maybe one of these days I’ll acquire something actually useful,” Spencer mutters.

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