Cross Effects > Areas
Great Dojo
yinsukin:
Young Man
Dust kicked up as the man brushed himself off. One for the shoulders, another for the chest and one last one for the back. With a whip of his head, he threw his ponytail back behind him and stared down his opponent.
"Your pretty good to have me do a desperate maneuver. Your mistake was thinking i'd just roll over for you," he said, pointing a finger to the heavens and closing his eyes. "We in the dojo district aim for the greatest heights and I am no exception."
The young man had seen him fight. This was obviously another redirection maneuver. So rather than see with his eyes, the young man would look with his third eye. The third eye was a concept more abstract in nature, a concept that refered to the sixth sense that develops into a real sensory ability once enough meditation was done. By being aware of his surroundings, a true master of the third eye technique could dodge attacks only by "sensing the truest blow." However, that was something only Sethrol and the other higher level fighters in his dojo knew.
Something was approaching his face so he ducked. Another strike aimed for his jugular so he blocked it with an upper frame block while moving backwards to keep out of range. Another blow went to his liver and was met with a knee to the forearm. The stomach strike? He simply stepped back out of range of the strike.
The dome had closed in. There was no longer room to move. In a sense his strategy was now working against him. The large dome had been reduced from a gym sized sphere to a classroom sized one, giving only enough room to do the most basic maneuver. At first, it appeared that his magic had backfired. However.....
What did he have back then that Mira had? Why did he lose so badly? The young man thought about it every night before sleeping, every day before training and before each bite of his food. At last, in this moment, the young man may have found the answer.
"Show me your fighting spirit!" he yelled, taking a horse stance. The young man's chest tightened, his abs flexing as they braced for possible impact. The chi around him intensified, steaming as it rose into the sky. "A trickster like you won't survive without any backbone! Lets see how you do when you can't run!"
Kotomine_Rin:
Vega
You dog... you're making this fun. No way, was this a smile that crawled up his lips? Running through the darkness like a shadow, he was as silent as a ghost even when rapture was overtaking his heart.
And zipping towards his foe, Vega's stance lowered as he performed a flurry of hand signs. This style of ninjutsu was one he designed himself, using the psychological pressure his hands created in order to breed confusion through these feints. As he advanced into the man's range like a bullet, it was impossible to tell what would strike first.
His left, or his right?
Each hand could instantly overturn that man's strikes or pierce him. Even if his body could take the blows, the blood loss and pain of being cut was a psychological pressure few unarmed men could exude. And if he hit a pressure point, the pendulum would swing in his favor.
He started with the claw, focusing on flashy slashes and carving as much of his surroundings in his way to make the man focus on the weapon's deadliness. Setting it on fire while in such a dark environment, he forced the attention to be drawn on to the weapon, then struck a deadly blow with his bare hand. This planted the seeds of paranoia, because it made his next attack that more uncertain - and its outcome appear even more dire. His claws, his hands, none of them were his real weapon. It was the threat they burrowed into the minds of his enemies that caused the slightest delay.
But one thing was certain, his hands were a weapon that must not be allowed to reach that man.
So what is it? Left, or right?
yinsukin:
Young Man
The young man couldn't see the handsigns. It didn't matter. The "truest strike" was the one sensed. People who have mastered this technique could differentiate between the less committed slashes and the bare fisted attacks, but the young man couldn't. Thats why all his body relaxed and he let his mind go still. With the mind calm, logic flourished, because that was all that remained. Left, right, under, above: where would the next strike be?
It didn't matter. He was in range.
Magical power gathered in the young man's palm, coating his fist in a bright light. There was no point in attempting a premature strike. His body sensed that. Whereever the fist came from, he would sense it. The truest attack was the one that would become evident. When that happened, it would be blocked and a decisive blow would be struck.
Mira I have my answer for when I see you...
Kotomine_Rin:
Vega
Hands darted like snakes and shot at the man like bullets - and with no mercy, the strike revealed itself. These terrifying feints were going straight for his eyes to gouge them!
Only for the ghost to vanish like a cloud, as if its momentum changed in an instant. Normally, there is a slight delay when changing from offense to defense, but Vega's movements were almost like water. He could shift his form and direction instantly! So the attack simply never came, and Vega stepped to the man's side.
Even if it was wise, awaiting for Vega's move meant delaying his own - and only let Vega move further through his guard. Whatever attack or guard would follow, Vega was already one step ahead.
An upward slash cracked the air to meet the man's liver. It was definitely his left!
yinsukin:
Young Man
Nothing, not even a flinch. The fingers that stopped inches from his face before fading into the wind didn't even seem to register. Thats because it didn't. The young man was blind to everything but intent to strike. That is why the man was also able to so easily get through his strafing. Vega easily slipped inside the man's guard, the young man simply frowning with his eyes closed.
I can see it!
The sheer weight of his intent to attack overwhelmed his body. Vega's entire body became visible to his third eye. Arms, weapons, eye position, even weird hairs he had on his body. Nothing would could surprise him. It was in this moment he realized the fatal mistake of this style that he trained so hard to learn. IT granted him near perfect sensory understanding in the moment before the strike, but the man was already inside of his guard! He wouldn't be able to block!
A fist shot forward like a rocket, slamming into his body with enough force to punch a hole in reinforced steel. Is that you would not yield to your own weakness! To be born strong does not mean you are strong! To be born weak does not mean you are weak!
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