Master vs. Derek

Ah, how i'm going to enjoy this...

Hybrid.

My AL version of Derek against whoever you got.

Bring it on.

[align=center]Footsteps of a Titan[/align]

The casual footsteps, crushing the small expenditures of the mammoth oaks towering about him, foretold the nature of the apathetic advance. Slow, calculating steps, reaching bounds over miniscule universes that continued their non-existant traversings of daily rituals. All unaware, uncapable of understanding that the nonchalant deity would most likey lay ruin to their metropolis, and the entire area surrounding it, if the thought simply crossed his mind.

That cursory being, that towering personage, human-esque only in appearance, passed over it all. Simply disregarding all that underfoot, yet knowing it's underlying composition and it's neccessity for the oncoming battle. Pointless to others, yet capable of disrupting the presently known plane of reality in well experienced hands. Those hands, their owner, their central being that passed down the orders for those and every other juggernaught of devastation within his grasp, kept those formidably trained eyes staring straight to the eventual battle ground; a friend's final resting place.

Passing through the foliage, those well prepared instruments of genocide lifted, errupting through the vegetation with a simple brushing of the hand. Seemingly without touch, yet igniting none the less against the faint orange containment that encased the extended hand. Leaving in remnants nothing but a disintegrating flow of ashes before the unseen array of floating nanites picked them apart, seperating neccesities from waste.

As the end of his venture fell upon those eyes, those horrible jade eyes that seemed to only fuel the eerie invisible aura that followed, a small trace of lines etched over his body's extent to halt him in his tracks. Passing, falling away, the simple coalition of dead or dying skin cells broke apart, disrupting the almost perfect outline of the fighter.

In a sudden outbreak of energy, the surrounding forest was ablaze in a mixture of crimson and orange. Encasing the single occupant that stood within it's burning embrance, the fires lifted, fueled by an unseen agent that caused their flames to reach higher and higher as their fragrant smoke tinged the senses of those in close radius.

From within a disclosed area of flames, a lone figure advanced to that faintly visible cirled that still contained living grass. Passing amongst the inferno, disregarding it without a blinkg of the eye, as the fires tinged the skin of Master. Finally, he stepped out of the flames, quite sure that Master himself would be surprised.

Derek hesitated before the ring's burning reach, staring calmly towards the crimson haired Master that had readied his blade. Had he been sensed? Possible, yet not likely. Although, it was apparent he was prepared for battle. He never was one to let other's down...

"It's been a damn long while since i've seen you 'round, Master. never really liked that name neither, always made me think that you wanted to glorify yourself over others by reducing them to speak to you with such a title. Instead, I shall call you............Bob! Ah, yes, that's a grand name. Quit suiting for one of your physical past, don't you agree?", that same smirk, that same damn smirk slid across those thin lips of Derek as that southern accent simply rolled off the tounge, calm and cool as it ever had. Even his attire hadn't changed, it appeared nothing at all had.

"It's a grand story, really. Instead, I think i'll save the small talk and simply say, even death couldn't keep me away from this fight. So, before we break out the tissues for the dignified welcomes, I think it's time we finally settled the old score. What'cha' say, pal?", gifting only a wink to accompany his facial expression, Derek lifted his right hand to grip the brim of that famous black cowboy hat residing atop of his head. Tucking his opposite arm across his waist, he bowed slightly while tipping the hat in juction, even the forecast of shadow over his face unable to hide that arrogant smirk.

[align=center]Pointless Words[/align]

The gentle swaying of the carefully orange tinted flames danced about the two as each kept and unwavering glare against the other. The moment for words had passed, and it was simply boiling down to the simplistic notion of who would issue the first strike.

Derek's posture shifted slightly as his lips tightened unnoticeably, as his microscopic assassins danced around the downward reach of Bob’s legs, tracing their miniscule markings across the heels of his boots. It was a reach, yet if Bob had intended to use any type of magic in this battle, the unseen placement of the negating runes atop of his own boots would render them useless; pretty much the way Derek himself liked to fight.

The unabridged information of their current surroundings displayed within the mind of Derek, inked upon a list of other pointless minerals, yet offering the same sufficing assurance that nothing else was available within close reach of Bob himself. It was simply boiled down to whatever Bob had within his own grasp against his attire, and nothing more.

Upon mental compliance from the nanites themselves, their work increased by ten fold as their mirroring of his own power overtook their capabilities, speeding up their somewhat menial task before subjectively combining their work. Mending atoms together from the floating ash, the hazing smoke, the burning timbers, and several other associative contributions from various deposits, their newly prepared works of devastation rose from the flames unnoticed.

Bounding in leaps, the flames snaked their way from the inferno itself, coiling against the ground before their arrival at the heels of Bob himself. Curling upwards at impossible speeds, their vicious wrapping of heat encircled the limbs of Bob, tearing his body back from his standing point into the fiery embrace of hellish fury they had prepared at his back.

Once within reach, the fires themselves leapt from Bob’s surroundings to perform their encompassing wave of well over 400 degrees of pain as they washed over his body entirely, their adaptive shielding allowing only the oxygen necessary for sustaining their burn, and the pain dealt against Bob himself, in or out.