Post by Dirge on Apr 2, 2020 3:24:39 GMT
Challenge: Curator vs Kassem.
Rules: aetherastate.boards.net/thread/290/compendium-based-combat-knowledge-guide
| Standard Rules.
| Standard Rules.
Time Limit: No time limit.
Tier: Low Powers - 3 to 4.
Kassem Introduction
dulcet v.
The foundational columns of infinity stretched themselves across the horizon in soft oceanic colors that. This auroric phenomena that reigned down in this world was akin to his own Angel Fire but they weren't by-products of his unity. They were the direct reaction to the power that spilled from him, two beings that were torn apart made whole again. It made the third shiver with anxiety and excitement. Brown skin danced with magma like ethereal energy, his pupils were constantly changing between white or black, and the sclera was either opposite of the tint or shade the pupils were. His Gi was torn as he walked from the flaming remnants of his fathers abode. Walking out as the dragon who had nothing, the guards remained as a pillar of flames as their hands remained as well as extended towards the heavens, clapsed in prayer.
He gripped the rather thick polearm in his right hand, each foot fall erupted the ground in molten metals before he stopped in the center of the destroyed town square.
"NEVEAH MOFR NWOD LLAF TNDID LEAHCIM."
A voice called from across the heavens, smashing into him silencing and effectively locking away such potential. Soon, he was standing there angry, seething with the draconic stare from his eyes.
Curator Post 1
And from the heavens came the blinding light.
From the heavens descended coruscating luminescence.
From the heavens fell shards of Heaven.
The sky was cracking.
Bits and pieces reminiscent of glass gave way to a distorted space where amethyst, ruby, and silver lingered; a space where the concept of time existed not for any individual trapped within. Entities caught within were trapped in stasis until the region decided to spit them out whenever and wherever It chose. It lived like any other creature. It breathed like any other creature. It thought unlike any other creature. The Borders of Life and Death saw it fit for this warrior to pierce through the veil separating one universe from the next, tearing through the fabric of time and space to fall to the ground as though enveloped by a pillar of unmarred, snow-white light.
With the booming violence of an extremely close thunderclap, the light impacted against the ground. The terrafirma beneath the warrior's feet was obliterated nigh-immediately, with the powerful radiance growing dimmer as the seconds passed until it had completely faded away. A faint glow remained around the humanoid standing in place roughly twenty meters away from the enraged 'dragon', which shattered into translucent shards much like the shards of the sky had once they crashed throughout the town square. The entirety of his ensemble was crafted of a curious alloy that straddled the line between metal and non-metal, courtesy of a famously wandering crimson-clad traveler. The metallic-looking vest protecting his torso was complemented by a white sleeveless coat, an orange scarf tightly wound about his neck, and a crimson shirt underneath it all. Boots and gloves crafted out of the selfsame leather-like material enshrouded his feet and hands, respectively, yet his pants diverged from the intended color scheme by showcasing a dark olive green. Lastly, a common black leather belt from which his signature weapon hung kept his lower attire in check hosted his signature weapon.
This weapon was none other than Suiryuuen, one of the four legendary blades representing the water element within the Isamahii Gardens. The metallic scabbard of this sword was graced by thousands of microscopic holes, which allowed the blade to breathe in the outside air and revel in the moisture within it. Sporting an entirely invisible blade, the weapon always stood at attention as though possessing a mind of its own; it awaited Curator's steady hand to grasp its handle and unleash it into battle. For the time being, however, the Azure Guardian's right hand rested upon the guard of the weapon whilst his left arm hung loosely upon that respective side of his body. Vibrant cerulean hair shifted with the swordsman as he turned to gaze upon the 'dragon', presenting a series of questions to them.
"... Where am I, who are you, and what year is it?"
These were the typical questions anyone would ask, especially when Curator was perfectly aware of the situation he'd been in. Hopefully, the stranger wouldn't direct the rage painted upon its countenance toward him.
Kassem Post 1
HE WHO TOTES THE BONES OF THE FATHER.
رحمك الل
The Old World Forever Bathed in The Wicked Glow Of Lunae. Dragons Stand With Old Blood Running Through them. Bodies riddled with holes like bullets had run through them. This is the ode to the jungle - you're dancing with something older than the sky. I just hope you can prosper, this is do or die.
Blood, mmmhn, blood is the foundation of the old world, Child. But it carries not the same presence humans have seen it, The Old Blood bypasses the thought that flows through mundane beings when it is seen. The mind attempts at assigning it as something mundane, flashing lights, smoke clouds, or whatever more the mind wants, until the mind breaks. For as long as they've interacted with the universes that come after their old one, it has always been assigned something that it is not. At its core it is power and far more powerful than anything anyone could truly fathom, it is eldritch and so much more. It is what fashioned the dragons, dancing with the fallen macabre shapes of the old world to form grotesque beasts who've evolved to such an extent they eventually blended into the worlds. Aiding mankind as GODS or Kings.
And through that old blood which acts as life support, dancing as ambroise in the blood of fermenting pygmies, flows the fevering might of the true dragons, into which they undoubtedly megamorph. Their skin reflects their time in the crucible that is "The Womb" and then "Egg" by the bronze color which gives them an unequivocal appearance. A color of which others mistakenly refer to as anything but it's true name often calling it; ذهب. Dragons are ancient and their young often are misunderstood as murderers, killers, thugs, when in truth they uphold the natural balance, to kill them is to commit treason to oneself and the universe as a whole. They are eldritch in nature and monstrous nightmarish presences given form. They aren't to be truly understood because they can't be; beware of those with THE OLD BLOOD.
As was the case with Eirdian, the white. Ilyas, The Gold. And now, Kassem, The Red.
- -----
Kassem was a small thing, to which the term thing was applicable for he was only human in appearance and even that wasn't going to last long. He began to crumble before, Curator had even arrived, his body ripping itself apart into what appeared to be a few trillion threads which wound themselves into the vague shape of his human form. Until, well, he appeared as who he did before again only stronger physically as he fed on his own energies to amplify his own strengths. His clothes augmented until he wore a perfect black gi with eldritch word for "DEMON" formed on it. Of course, because it was the word of The Elders, any being who was not of that lineage would have a reasonably hard time trying to read it because of the outwardly dissociative properties to this realm as a whole. A thin aura of green energy surrounded his skin, protectively as his innards rearranged themselves to begin the battle if needed.
"... Where am I, who are you, and what year is it?"
He spoke but the language sounded more akin to the moans of a million agonized children before he closed his mouth. But he also looked confused as the male stood there, and confusion only angered his kind. His pole-arm shrunk and shortened, a blade that appeared more like ethereal energy manifested at its end and rapidly the ‘wood’ formed a metal blade of some kind. It appeared to be more like bone than anything with cleaver-like features.
Curator Post 1
Ah, shit. One of these guys. They wouldn't speak, they wouldn't address him, they wouldn't attempt to establish any sort of connection whatsoever. To say they weren't communicating would be taking that a little too far, however. This creature was a savage and it showed in his countenance, in his composure, in the way he altered his weapon into something reminiscent of a Stone Age, inefficient bone cleaver. This is what the Border of Life and Death had chosen for him to put down? Perhaps that entity was growing a little too complacent for its own good. Curator was a guardian, but not all problems required his intervention, and this was certainly not one of them. He rationalized that the boy would probably grow to become a terrible threat throughout the Multiverse, but the Azure Guardian simply couldn't see that at the moment. This was someone in the infancy of his development; a babe still sucking on his mother's teat.
So why was it that he felt the need to dispose of the boy?
Perhaps it was hindsight. Perhaps it was the fact that he'd seen creatures like these in the past, human only in appearance. Perhaps the knowledge picked up from that crimson-clad individual was going to be of actual use in this particular scenario. And so, Curator proceeded as he often would, by transitioning into an actual stance. The left arm crossed over his body, allowing his hand to hover over the handle of his sword whilst the right's fingers curled around the scabbard, with the thumb applying a small amount of pressure on the guard. His right leg trailed forward as most of his body's weight rested upon it, with the left remaining behind as a support and the heel elevated from the ground. Slightly crouching, he was finally ready to begin tackling this challenger.
Tiny droplets of clear water descended from the tip of the scabbard and onto the tiny crater beneath his feet, with the dim glow of cerulean enshrouding his frame after a short moment. The Azure Guardian was appealing to the water element by channeling his own mastery through Suiryuuen. This was all part of his own focus regarding the ancient swordsmanship styles bestowed to him. His piercing, analytical gaze remained trained on the would-be opponent, awaiting for the inevitable sign for his sword to sing.
Kassem Post 2
HE WHO TOTES THE BONES OF THE FATHER.
رحمك الل
For every moment that The Guardian let it happen, it happened, specifically speaking about the refining of whatever muscle-like material that composed the innards of his body. The Will having them reformat themselves to be stronger and let it flow through him at a faster rate, which made his outwards appearance become more Herculean in nature without actually getting much bigger. His teeth revealed themselves as he snarled at the stance of the other, any animal could tell when something was going to attack them or saw them as a threat. But it was up to the animal itself to attack, his pupils completely disappeared and 'veins' popped out from different points of his hardening body and aura, this enhancement would play a pivotal factor in the future of this. His own stance was odd, his feet shoulder width apart with his left leading the right as both formed a sort of L shape in the same direction his chest was facing. He spun the clever into a reverse grip, which in the transition cleaved a scar into the ground, whether it was due to raw speed or something else? Was yet to be revealed. Soon he was off, right foot smashing into the ground kicking up dirt, ash, and a mass of hardening earth the side of a child which flew towards Curator. Which he literally punted towards the other. It's speed was fast enough to pull the 'smoke screen' with it and kick even more up around the man. Within the formation were some odd foriegn motes of light that flickered, multiplied and would carry forth THE FEAR with them. From there he stalked forthwards, specifically northeast of the man, with how his aura worked there was no actual sound, vibrations or any of the sort to appeal to the mundane senses as it completely contained them before dispersing them.
Curator Post 2
All it took for the Azure Guardian to render the 'dragon's' attack useless was a simple shift in his stance. The handle of his sword angled downward before a sudden step forward saw the weapon drawn in a celeritous swing in the same motion. The invisible blade sunk into the earth, following the trajectory of an ascending slash, which saw a hefty portion of the concrete, rock, and dirt fanning debris before him. The smaller pieces saw themselves crashing against the dirt, ash, and hardening earth the young boy had kicked toward him; the larger pieces saw themselves continuing onward, toward the child. The foreign motes of light were snuffed out by some of these pieces, though Curator's analytical gaze followed the boy through the dirt, ash, and debris. It mattered little how much an 'aura' minimized the vibrations produced throughout the air as far as it pertained to his own frame; the air itself was still displaced, the ground itself was still disturbed.
Eliminating everything else, wherever his opponent was not and where the air and sound were fully undisturbed, that's exactly where he was. Think of it as a myriad frequencies becoming completely silent within a specific space. Regardless, amongst the 'smokescreen', Suiryuuen's scabbard was launched directly as though it was nothing more than a projectile, the glint of dim light behind it and seemingly riding the shadow. Closely behind followed the Azure Guardian, angled off to his right in order to attempt to intercept the boy in the midst of his sudden dash. If all went as planned, the subtly shimmering scabbard was going to impact squarely upon the 'dragon's' solar plexus, with him taking advantage of that fact. Otherwise, he'd be able to intercept the boy regardless, ever observant and keeping a relatively safe distance away from the cleaver's reach.
Kassem Post 3
Feign. Feign. Feign. _Focus._ The Dragon, the only true lineage of dragon in the multiverse, had planned and worked to do what he needed to proceed in the fashion that suited him better. The other cutting the stone wasn't an issue nor was him even dispersing anything. The only thing that wouldn't go anywhere were the lights that danced in the smokescreen, they were noticed and thus forth with all Smotritel capabilities the senses that were often and commonly used to sense things were used as a means to introduce something unto lesser beings. Fear. This was generally caused by misunderstanding as to what the motes of light were, and with all weird things it came with an effect and/or price to pay for acknowledging it. In the same sense that spirits could attach themselves to a being who recongizes their existence; often eating the target or possessing them. Once that noticing happens, it actively begins causing victims to doubt everything, lose control of all rational thought, and see visions of their deepest fears. While this would typically result in rapid death due to a person's heart being unable to bear such intense shock, it wouldn't here because the optic nerve was what allowed entry into the part of the brain that controls the fear; the cortex and the amygdala. Seeing as these motes are light-esque and shares most of it's properties, the will would begin to spread that fear across his brain entirely, forcing them to pump ONLY ONE message out before specifically taking over the nervous system attempting at blocking any other information from being received and/or relayed by the brain itself, and even cutting off the spirit who controlled the brain from the brain to backseat drive in their own body.
This was to gain mental control over the body first starting with the main thing fear caused; paralysis. No matter how minute or momentary it was, it happened. The nervous system was also used as a high-speed highway from one part of the body to the other to carry out this paralysis. With that completed the Dragon would have closed the distance, raising his cleaver and coming across with it to cut the mans head clean from his shoulders. It's not like the self-harding male couldn't handle an attack like that and it would have been weird to see his solar plexus literally open up and form a hole to let the weapon-sheathe pass through him. If, in the event the fear didn't work, he still would have slashed across to cut the male in half, the ethereal imprint around the weapon could emerge again, several times larger than the other, less crude and more refined for cutting and if not cutting? Battering, forcing the other to rage doll across the field and into a nearby car, despite his safe distance. To the other? It would appear as if he was hit by the air by how it roared, catching him mid-dash
Curator Post 3
In order to afflict the internal workings of the Azure Guardian's body, the foe would've had to not only go through the thin azure glow enshrouding his frame, but also through his primordial connection to the water element. Anything that managed to get inside him would see itself rapidly neutralized by the purifying qualities inherent to Curator's physiology, and this wasn't merely limited to poisons and toxins. The impulse attempting to pierce through fizzled out as soon as it hit that outer layer covering the guardian, and the moment the dragon attempted to close the distance to slice Curator's head off... Well, let's just say that approach was as ineffective as they came. There was no way for the dragon to know whether the fear would know or not, however, since Curator was as focused as ever and staring intently at the boy as he closed in.
The horizontal slash attempted by the 'dragon' was simply ducked in the blink of an eye at the very last possible second to ensure full commitment. The cleaver did not even manage to graze the Azure Guardian's cerulean locks as a horizontal slice of his own was executed with Suiryuuen's invisible blade, from right to left, across the boy's abdomen. The temperature around the sword seemed to drop heavily when the blade touched the flesh and cloth, not only inflicting cutting wounds, but also intense frostbite. The spot where Suiryuuen's scabbard had impacted against began to intently freeze the boy little by little, though whether that would be deadlier than the wound inflicted upon the 'dragon's' abdomen was yet to be seen.
Kassem Post 4
Last moment. He hadn't noticed the importance of the weapon, the bone of the father was a weapon that reformatted itself to its own whims. Once he ducked under it, the blueprint augmented it again to form another blade to cleave him in two as he was ducked down. Three blades? Yes, it was within the power of the blade, it made weapons and it didn't matter the angle or quantity of them. So, no matter how you sliced it, he was running into one of the blades. Not only this the scabbard would have never touched the man, due to the hole that was mentioned prior.
Curator Post 4
Unfortunately, there hadn't been any hole allowing the 'dragon' to avoid the scabbard. There had been the acceptance of the scabbard impacting against the boy's solar plexus, due to the fact that he could handle it. It would, indeed, have been weird to see a hole form upon his chest, but since it didn't happen, any weirdness due to that fact was immediately omitted. Regardless, this meant that the boy had to deal with the invisible blade trailing along his abdomen. As for the downward slices attempted by the cleaver, they'd crash against an icy surface product of the glow enshrouding the Azure Guardian growing physical in the blink of an eye. The moisture within the air solidified, flash-froze, aided by the contact of the newborn blade birthed forth from the cleaver with the faint luminescence, though this was not the work of Curator himself, but rather of his blade. Suiryuuen did, after all, possess a mind of its own. While the Azure Guardian was engaged in cleaving the boy in twain, so too was his blade protecting himself.
Kassem Post 5
Sliced? Eh, not so sure, but not dead. One had to remember he had hardened skin and a skin-tight aura that was also hardening around him. Whether or not one wanted to remember that was there, wasn't up to him. But it was. He became a mass of threads that outstretched themselves all around, coiling around the weapon, the holder and everything else 'pon impact. Legs of course still standing there, each 'tentacle' holding this same aura that attempted to coil around The Curator. Freezing didn't matter so long as THE WILL counteracted temperature changes of the body itself by streaming itself through the body. Flash freeze? Counteracted by a wave of raw heat and angel-fire, leading to a raw explosion within their vicinity to which his body once again could handle because of the elemental affinity over the other. Heat, Temperature, Angel-Fire so on and so forth.
Curator Post 5
All that was left was to end this excuse of a 'dragon.' Willpower could attempt to counteract the freezing temperatures all it wanted, but it wouldn't have the same strength when the length, weight, and density of each 'tentacle' was extremely minimal when compared to the swordsman, who remained whole. But it was time to recapitulate what had actually happened. With the invisible blade cutting through the boy's midsection, the first few tentacles began to wrap around the invisible blade in vain, as they were rapidly frozen in continuous fashion. Fire commonly had the upper hand against ice in that the raw heat and combustion could melt it, though the more steam that was produced by the clash of opposites, the more material Curator would have to ultimately snuff out the heat. First and foremost, Suiryuuen sliced through the boy, which was a fact at this point in time. Secondly, the moisture the weapon had been picking up as Curator focused was released in a pressurized blast from the glow enshrouding him, and from the weapon itself, ensuring that all the tentacles were doused as well as the remainder of the would-be opponent. Ultimately, this ensured no explosion actually occurred, instead scattering the tentacles from his body and weapon whilst drenching the opposition. Each and every single scattered tentacle would inevitably be encased in a gelid prison beneath the weight of Curator's and Suiryuuen's elemental connection. As for the remainder of the 'dragon', well... He couldn't certainly say whether two legs and a crotch constituted an actual creature anymore.
Kassem Post 6
With the thought of victory on the others mind, the battlefield simply. . . faded. So did the rest of the creature and all its 'frozen' bits and pieces.
Fight ended with Curator as the victor.
