Open PvP, 1v1 (VIOLENCE PLEASE!!!!)((lol))

[-Dory]

Who?: Anyone. Just someone fight me already. T.T
Power level?: 2000 posts.
Special Rules?: Nope

Where?:

Somewhere far from civilization there is a meadow. For the most part, the common person stays away from it, happily going on with their lives in the peaks of the mountains surrounding the odd flat patch. Rumor has it that the land is known to drive even the most placid of individuals in to madness, but no two rumors can quite agree on the cause. It might be due to a curse... it might be due to a demon... it might even be something in the air; all the same, there's one thing all of the rumors have in common: People have been dying there since towns were formed in the surrounding areas.

A grassy meadow that stretches nearly as far as the eye can see, leaving the mountains to seem dwarfed if one was to stand in the center of it, no wind can find the sheltered circle, leaving it wrapped in an eerie stillness. No animals dare wander these grounds, yet if one were to look very closely at the rocks and trees they pass, one can find the skeletons of them-- mostly deer and wildcat-- flies buzzing in circles around the rotted meat piled in a circle around the frame, meat no scavengers have touched.

In the very center of the clearing is a deep puddle just wide enough for a man to stand in, but unfathomably deep. The water is colored with vivid blacks and grays, and one particularly defined rumor has it that should one stare in to the water for long enough, they will lose themselves in the reflection of their own eyes, and tumble face first in to whatever lies underneath of the glassy surface. A three-bone thick line of what look to be femurs and humeruses ring the pool, with three polished skulls organized in a triangle, facing inward.

The true nature of the clearing is that it does, in fact, cause you toward bouts of violent madness, normally with the aim of replacing the water in the pool with blood, though this is not always the case, and the logic behind the maddened thoughts often shift to suit the individuals personality. No mortal has ever left the circle alive. That's not, of course, to say anything about anything else.


My character::
(I tried to do this in another pvp but then posts stopped coming, and I wanna fight as myself, damnit. >.< Gonna try first person pov on this one.)

Name: Dory
Age: 20
Class: Elemental mage/Dark Mage

[-Dory]

Heeled boots didn't help with the climbing effort, but practice had made the situation a bit easier. There was, after all, some advantages to being short-- and to hating it, I supposed as I finally made the last jump. A cliff face, only three, three and a half feet from the ground that ended in lush emerald grass, almost surreal and fragile as the heels dug in to supple dirt under my weight.

Under any circumstances even vaguely resembling normal, I wouldn't have worn them at all-- not for this-- whatever this was-- but the voice had told me to dress up for the occasion. Of course, I don't normally make a habit of listening to disembodied voices, either. That was my mother's thing, not mine; but we all have our small threads of insanity, and I had happened to be with the damnable woman when the voice had come. She's never taken the answer "no" in all my life, and I was beginning to think it was about time to prove her insanity to be just that. As such, I got to follow the instructions to the letter.

Heeled boots that reached nearly to my knee, patent leather overlapping patent leather, and two pairs of leggings-- not because I was cold, but because I intended to climb. That, at least, had been a good part of the plan. I cursed under my breath as I looked toward them, the black top layer half shredded by rocky crags and and the occasional thorn bush, only to reveal dark blue nylon rather than black. My skirt was still in good condition, layers of pale blue lace that reached to mid thigh, hemmed with white. The corset had seemed, at first, to have been a bad idea, but once I'd begun climbing I realized the error of my initial thought. Corsets never really meant anything for impaired breathing to me, thanks to seven years of chorus worth of a strong diaphragm, but all the buttons had popped off of the white dress shirt, and it hung open over the patent leather. My only interrogation (job interview) shirt. I cursed again.

It didn't really matter, in the end. Proving my mother wrong was worth the three bucks another shirt would cost, though as I shook my head and shifted in to the first step further in to the clearing, I had to acknowledge that the place had a strange aura around it. An aura that induced madness, if one was to listen to the locals. Fucking idiots.

Still, my body came to a stop without my consent, unfounded irritation edging at the corners of my consciousness. Even if this place did drive people insane, it was a voice that had told me to come here. That meant I was already insane... didn't it?

My eyes flickered toward the staff that had guided me through the mountain, grip tightening as I looked back toward the clearing. A scattering of unmoving trees stood isolated among the grass and occasional rock, just like in a picture. It was a normal staff when I bought it. Now, as it's bottom most tip touched the earth here, it almost seemed to pulse, warm in my hand.

"Alright, motherfucker..." I muttered, lifting the staff and resuming my steps, eyes narrowing in to slits. "I heard you. Now show your ugly goddamned face."

[-Silvermoon]

((Because you asked oh so kindly and I can never say no because I'm a gentleman and all that stuff))

Char: Nathan
Class: Fire (Earth) Alchemist / Dark Mage
Powers:
**Dark Flame:
Description: Ability to manipulate huge amounts of Fire. This level of alchemy does not require prior contact with the element to wield it.

**Obsidian Armor:
Description: Ability to manipulate huge amounts of rock, sand and earth. This level of alchemy does not require prior contact with the element to wield it.

**Disease
Description: Poisons a single target with a subtle disease, making them weaker every post by a small amount. It can be fatal if left untreated. Can be healed with Esuna.

**Manipulate III
Description: Grants the user the power to fully manipulate the mind of up to 10 npcs for up to 3 posts.

**Famine
Description: Target of Famine will suffer from a dry throat, a headache and feel starved for 1 post. The target will also suffer a decrease in half their physical strength for a total of 4 posts.

**Darkness
Description: A spell that completely banishes light from the caster's immediate area, the higher the power of the caster the bigger area this spell can effect. This includes daylight and light energy, but not fire etc. The effects last for 5 posts.

**Animate
Description: Invoke dark spirits to bring to life an inanimate object or dead body for up to 3 posts. The object is completely under the caster's control, and will obey verbal commands. The object can be no larger than 15 square feet. Can be canceled by Dispel.

**Devastation
Description: A dark wave spreads out from the caster poisoning the ground and sending sharp tremors through it in all directions. The radius for the spell is 50 feet. Characters and other objects caught in the blast are affected by the poison and dark energies as well.

**Unholy Amor
Description: The user is able to create a shield of dark energy or a suit of bone armor around themselves. These act respectively like a Shell spell or Protect spell.



******* Post *******

Why had he agreed to climb this bloody mountain range to find this cursed meadow anyway? Oh yeah because some rich guy had paid him off. Claimed that it was of great interest to find out as to why people disappeared there and well Nathan was expendable as a dumb enough to accept the job without asking enough questions to make the client worried. In hind sight it wasn't that good of an idea. That was the past though and he lived in the present so without much more thought he shook the memories from his head and continued to climb up the mountain side.

The clothing of which he had chosen to wear was that of comfort and purpose over looks. Hiking boots with those useful things that made his feet have the equivalent of clawed feet which made climbing the sometimes vertical walls of his particular mountain oh so much easier. Though his gloves he had regretted, he had chosen fingerless gloves so he would have complete use of his hands but instead his fingers were slowly growing numb from the cold rock. Sometimes he feared he would fall if he didn't find a flat topped rock to rest on and let his hands warm in the comfort of his sweatshirt. Though he was one to prefer hats he was wearing a nice skull cap and sunglasses to make up for it. Glasses to keep the sun out of his eyes and the skull cap to keep his head nice and cozy. The cap was a dark emerald green. Something his father had given him oh so long ago, the glasses were slick and black. The hoody he wore was also black because it was his favorite color and also attracted and absorbed heat which he liked for he preferred to be out in the cold so one needed warm clothing. His pants were winter thickness forest camo pants. He liked the pockets they gave.

After what felt like days of climbing, wait it had been. Why the hell hadn't he taken a helicopter here again? Oh yeah money. Fucking economy, he blamed the president for the lack of treasure hunter hiring money wasters. Though he had taken on other jobs, many people didn't have the 'unique' talents he possessed. Well anyway he finally climbed over the top of a cliff and found himself at the clearing he had heard so much about. It was not very land markish. Walking towards the center he pulled back a sleeve to look at his watch, flipping back a protective cap that doubled as a compass he doubled checked his direction. Yup he was headed the right way.

Then he noticed her, a woman about 5' tall with unique looking hair. She was dressed very nicely with high heels. She was so pretty and he couldn't help but wonder if he could get her number. Slowly he began walking towards her. Damn she had such a nice face, he'd love to beat it in. Wait did he really just think about beating her skull in? Damn what the hell was that thought? Shaking his head he shrugged off the strange feeling and tried to ignore it while walking towards her.

"Hey you there!!! How did you get up here?! Didn't you miss the whole like... mountain range?!" He half laughed, half shouted. Hey Nathan was never one to question why there were random people to talk to when he was bored and lonely.

[-Dory]

Timing is essential with damn close to everything. You can't put popcorn in the microwave for twenty minutes instead of two, you can't conveniently forget to turn off the sink faucet when you're getting ready to do the dishes, you can't hit the brake ten minutes after you blow through a red light, and you can't yell at the random stranger you found in a cursed meadow more than five minutes after she announces "Show you're ugly face". It just wouldn't hold the same irony.

Normally I'd've grinned at it at least, I noted with some disinterest as I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms, steps slowing to a stop.

"Could ask you the same thing!" I called back dryly. Never really been much of a people person, especially when the situation doesn't exactly call for it. Even when the situation -does- call for it, I tend more toward analysis than conversation. Hide behind one person or another, watch peoples eyes, let them forget I exist for just a moment and glean everything I can. Keeps me active, up to date on who's going to try to screw me over next. Then again, it hasn't been easy lately. As effortlessly as people forget about something so small, quiet, and stationary, some people simply refuse to. Other people follow those peoples eyes, and next thing I know-- Reputation!

God damn it all.

Still, there was no reputation here. No roommates to hide behind here, either. All the same, I couldn't help my nature. The stranger was wearing boots-- specialized boots for climbing. He'd thought ahead. Camo... experience, paranoia, or a delusion of badassery. Could've meant either of the three. Black hoodie, skull hat, and fingerless gloves along with the fact that it was old school camo? Probably delusional. The sunglasses, of course, were a pain in the ass. Even if he had been close enough to gauge his eyes, I wouldn't have had a shot. All summed up, it could've been worse. Hell, it -could- have been one of my exes, and my whole plan would be shot. I wouldn't have been able to deny -that- killing instinct.

Not that ignoring it now was easy. Dory's anger quickly, and to startling standards. Apparently for no reason, here. Strange. Should probably keep an eye on that one.

"So what're you here for?" I shifted in to movement again, eyes moving beyond him as I gave up on the analysis. I had a reason to be here, god damnit. If this voice thing wasn't just a hallucination, someone was going to have to put down the source, and-- yay for paranormal activity studies-- I was best candidate I knew for the job. Fuck my life. "Morbid curiousity?" my eyes flickered back toward him. More likely: "Getting paid for it?" I shook my head, fingers tightening reflexively around my staff. "Do yourself a favor, and just leave. There's some shit going on here, and I don't want a record."

[-Silvermoon]

Ever get the strange feeling that every little thing you did was being watched and assessed? Well it was coming on strong suddenly. The way her eyes looked at him, half watching half something else. It just made a cold chill run up his spine. Looking around he made his own little assessment. This place wasn't natural, too flat, too... orderly. How the fuck in the middle of a mountain range did this place turn fucking flat. A glacier had caused this thing, flattening up the north but leaving a nice pile of rubble they called mountains. Or maybe this was the result of two plates pressing against each other. Who the fuck cared?

The more and more he thought about it. The more it made him wanna burn the place to the ground and scream sweet blasphemies to the heavens. Damn god and his creation, who was he to dictate his life? Did the fool think that he could create something and assume that it would move to his beck and call? Nathan was no man's dog and he would do what he fucking felt like. Who was god and society to say about it? If he wanted to spend each night getting wasted and waking up each morning with a random stranger it was his choice wasn't it? Hell why did he take on this job? He had fucking powers! Cities could burn at his command! The very ground he walked on was just clay for him to mold as he saw fit. He was better than a human, he was a god in his own right. All he lacked was a group of stupid followers to do as he wished. That's what he would do. Start a cult that worshiped him and he would have his own harem! Damn the world! The world would be his! However he'd start with the harem. He'd need women, lots of women. Who would he recruit first. Well he was alone and that girl didn't look at all too bad or strong. Oh who gave a fuck? He'd tap it.

Chuckling with a voice he didn't recognize, darkness rose to his command. It engulfed him and when it retreated he was no longer wearing the clothes on which he had arrived. It was all armor made of bleach white bones. It gave him a demonic look but there was a touch he didn't like. Running his hand over his face he felt the armor protecting it form to made the skull smile demonically. It's teeth now sharp, small gaps to let him breath and talk clearly. Two horns also grew from the helmet's for head, nothing large, just a nice little detail to add to the over all thought on things.

Holding out his hands to the side, the earth rose up and engulfed his forearms and up. Laughing as fire then engulfed the earth. It blackened and fell away as it was spent. Then the rock shrunk. It was clamping down around itself. Pressuring itself to become tighter and tighter then suddenly it collapsed after a moment. What remained was his hands and forearms untouched and two rather nasty looking diamond blades. Their design was simple. About a 2 and a half foot blade with a small hill that doubled as brass knuckles. They were dirty fighting weapons which he would enjoy using. Cracking his neck he took a step towards the smaller woman.

"Com'ere girly... I wanna play a game..."

[-Dory]

As my eyes moved beyond the strange man, content that he had been adequately dismissed, something in the air seemed to change. Like a sirens call that wrapped around the subconscious recesses of the deepest parts of my mind, something snapped. The ground trembled under my feet, the staff in my hand resonating with it. It pulsed with excitement, snaking hot ice through my veins and up my arms. I stopped moving again, head slowly, hesitantly turning to look as only-natural fear began it's slow descent in to my mind.

The tips of my fingers had blackened, a small tendril of what almost looked like paint winding around each one and joining at the back of my hand to wind around my wrist.

My eyes widened. Shock. Terror.

The earth behind me crunched, and I spun around, reflexively drawing the staff diagonally before me only to find that the stranger had been engulfed in rock. More tendrils spread from where my second hand touched the staff, whispy smoke wrapping around my fingers and my wrist. I tried to drop the weapon to no avail, metal stuck to my palms as my fingers splayed and I looked up.

The face of a black wolf rushed toward me-- toward me-- toward me-- through me, like nothing more than wind.

Except I didn't want to drop the staff anymore. Spreading my stance, evening my weight over slightly bent knees, I watched the rocks shrink, almost eagerly. The instructions whispered through my mind, his voice almost tangible as sanity began to slip. "Everyone always thinks it's either in the arms or the legs. Use your entire body."

The ground was growing distant, arms around my waist (Or rather, some distant part of me realized, the illusion of them), lifting me. Breath against the cusp of my ear-- "Usually, a black dog indicates a demonic presense." He spoke again. Alarm bells.

But then the stranger spoke. Rage swallowed fear.

"Go fuck yourself." I did not hear the voice that escaped my body, but his as suddenly the pressure moved from my waist to my hands, guiding as I spun the staff before me, kicking off of air and drifting back as though through water.

"The trick behind staff fighting," The hallucination whispered, gently, "Isn't force. It's momentum. Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast."