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Post by trigger on Jan 21, 2012 19:18:26 GMT -5
[OOC; So yeah, here we have it folks, the first 'to Vanguard' battle test! AWESOME. RULES, FOOLS
Got that? AWESOME. LETS GO![/color][/size]
TEACHER BATTLE MAGUS vs GERRARD [/b][/size] {Nova vs Morri}[/color] The Black Wind Howls...[/RIGHT]
Magus wasn't one to turn down a challenge, even if it didn't seem worth his time. If anything, he just wanted to let out some pent up frustration from his tedious welcome around tour through Shibusen.
Good Lord...
He realised he couldn't use his magic here. Mostly likely the School would sick their best on him in an instant. Not that he didn't think he could take them all on, he just wasn't in the mood for pansying around with the Grim Reapers lot, and was't prepared to loose the information that they could yet give him. Magus sighed. He didn't even know if this was going to be worth his time. For once, he hoped so.
The open plateau before the grand entrance of the Academy held stage to many a grand battle. Be it boredom runs at lunch, or old scores to be settled when the last straw was drawn. The Mage stood, the wind atop the epitome of Death City's largest building sent his scarlet cape dancing like a wild flame. With a hand to his side, a uttered something silent. A blue flame formed around his hand, not long before shaping itself into his trusted Scythe, Dreamreaper.
It felt like it had been so long since the sharp edges of this deadly blade has tasted steely blood, but he knew that killing the fellow Professor was...out of the question. He didn't particularly want to kill the taller man, either. Though, he wouldn't think twice about dealing heavy damage if Gerrard saw fit for Magus to receive some himself. Magus knew that, as a Meister, Gerrard probably had Wavelength power on his side. He shook the thought away.
Magus stood in the far left of the expanse, facing Gerrard on the right. The tank of a man seemed stood perfectly still, and just waiting for Gerrard to make his move before he could plan an action course accordingly. This battle could go any way, but Magus knew he wanted to show off.
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Post by gerrard on Jan 23, 2012 15:20:00 GMT -5
A fight, was it? He hadn't fought in so long, it was almost years, perhaps half a decade since he'd had a proper fight with some real meaning behind it. At least, he though this would have meaning. For a while he let himself observe the mages' weapon, a sycthe that had formed out of blue flame. Gerrard tilted his head and wondered slightly. But now was not the time to check his soul, even when there was doubt in his mind. Would Shibusen really take on another witch as a teacher? Magus couldn't be a witch... male witches were almost impossible, so it wasn't as if Magus would be one.
He shook his head and pulled Murmur from its sheathe. The blade was steel and shone in the light. To an observer, it was well kept, to Gerrard, it was misused. He intended to correct that today. The weight of the sword was great, to be expected from a weapon as strong as a broadsword hidden in katana form. In those first few moments of preparation, the blade seemed ungodly heavy in his hands,the weight was immense, but his arms snapped back to the days he used it the most, and soon he could swing it with ease. It whistled as he swung it once, he smiled in confirmation. Perhaps this was going to be a good fight. He might even win this one. Gerrard sighed and looked to Magus, and at this distance he didn't look too intimidating. Then he remembered how much muscle he had on those bones and prepared himself for the worst. His height would give him very little advantage over the other meister, his military prowess would, however, that was is Magus hadn't also had training to match Gerrard's own. If he had, that would cause a fair bit of trouble, and make for a good spar. But with Alice standing to the side, he could not help but feel a tug at his masculinity, suddenly feeling like this was a fight to sustain that title, to keep afresh that he was still, somewhere deep down, a hotblooded male.
"So," Gerrard called over casually, holding his sword with both hands, cracking his neck casually. "We gonna do this thing or what?"
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Post by trigger on Jan 24, 2012 17:34:33 GMT -5
"We gonna do this thing or what?"
Magus, against all odds, grinned, and closed his bloody red eyes. He shifted stance, taking a tall, proud pose, and, with his free hand, the Mage threw his scarlet cape behind him. For an extended moment, he stood perfectly still. A good battle required a clear mind, focus, and energy. Sorting his head and mind for a battle, Magus took a shallow breath, opening his eyes again and looking over the the fellow Professor on the other side of the playing field.
The Mage made the first move, but an odd one.
Instead of charging, dashing, running across to Gerrard, Magus walked. He walked slowly, as if going to meet him in the centre of the battleground. However, his eyes burnt with intent, the Scythe looked perfectly at home in his hand, and him, at home when reading to fight. His pace was deliberate, every step was purposeful and measured to have a growing air of confidence that he hadn't instilled before now. Now, it was like he wanted to be seen, to be watched and observed, rather than passed by and ignored. Like these moments were the ones he lived for.
He stopped, only a few feet away from his opponent. With a fancy display of Scythe-work, the blade ended it's performance held behind him, sending the red cloak with it once again. The look of complete comfort on his face was...off-putting. "Of course, Professor."
[/b] Magus looked Gerrard right in the eyes, confidence unwavering. "In your own time." Gerrard had the soldiers incentive. Looking him in the eye was challenging him, daring him, almost taunting him. The wicked smile on the Warlocks face might have put most at unease, but Gerrard, no. Gerrard was a solider. "Unless you're having second thoughts?" And sometimes they needed...encouragement. [/blockquote]
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Post by gerrard on Jan 26, 2012 14:45:59 GMT -5
Gerrard snorted at the assumption of backing out. He wasn't a man to back down in these conditions, those conditions being a) he wanted to make a good impression on the new professor and b) wanted to look tough for his partner. Only was of those was actually somewhat important, the other wasn't really that great a target, and after a few seconds of thought and a glance to his two-person audience made him realize that this really wasn't a show, more so a proving to the tank of a man in front of him, giving him an awkward smirk.
Gerrard tilted his sword in his hands, slight twists of the wrists to figure out the most powerful grip. He didn't tear his eyes away from Magus, keeping his eyes on fire with his, gazing into deep red. The ton of the colour made him slightly angry. With a narrowing of his eyes and a slight tilt of the head, he considered himself ready to fight- a proper fight, this time. Or so he hoped, it was most likely that he had forgotten everything he had ever learned, that tended to happen.
There was a slight air of tension, a familiar feeling he used to get out in Afghanistan just before they'd break out into a skirmish with new Taliban troops. This time he'd have to break it, because Magus sure wasn't going to. Gerrard made a quick side step, instantly breaking off the glare they had formed, bringing his sword up and swiping as he traveled, quickly stepping back to put distance between him and that huge scythe. There was no point trying to instantly charge into a fight when your opponent was wielding a weapon that could slice tarmac in two, or at least looked like it.
In the instant he made the first swing at Magus, Gerrard's heart leaped into his throat, pounding in his ears violently. His whole body shook with the sudden surge into battle, his legs felt numb for a brief second or two, his thoughts disbanding and dissolving to focus on tactics, of which also sprawled out like a madman's scribbles in his head. For a moment he felt panic, forgetting how to fight in accordance to your enemy's own moves was terrifying, he went to take another step back; ever pace was a second more of thought.
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Post by trigger on Jan 28, 2012 12:13:34 GMT -5
Ahh, that look in Gerrards eyes. He knew it well. The professor adjusted the grip on his sword, maybe it had been a while since he'd last used it. The man of rosewood hair looked prepared to fight, and had worked out that Magus wouldn't be making the first move. In this strange air of tenseness, the Mage felt perfectly at ease.
Then Gerrard made the first move.
He side stepped, brining the sword with him. A slower start, he had to admit, but there was time for picking up the pace later. The mage stepped back, clearing himself of the swinging blade, as Gerrard furthered himself from the Warlock, who grinned. Bringing the Scythe up to a good striking height, he took a launch towards Gerrard, bringing his with him, and swinging it around in an attempt to catch him in the curve.
The bladed weapon looked like a heavy one, yet Magus made it look as light as one would need to handle it accurately and swiftly. Though, unlike most others, Gerrard would take this in his stride rather than worry about the power in the opponent. He seemed like that kind of person, at any rate. It would probably be in his best interests not to distract himself with petty trivia and rather, just fight.
Landing somewhere behinds the tall teacher, back to his, the Mage swung the blade out behind him, turning himself with it as to avoid a literal back-stab, and to keep Gerrard at a fair distance. Turning to face him, the next move was down to the teacher.
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Post by gerrard on Jan 29, 2012 8:52:35 GMT -5
He'd put enough distance between himself and Magus to see the first attack coming, ducking under it with some degree of skill, although it was mostly a fools timing. He held his breath and went deaf in that brief moment of terror, his heart hammered and to the side, Isaac buried his face into Alice's shoulder who watched on, assured.
The wind whistled as the gigantic blade of the scythe flew over his head, as the mage ran past at an inconceivable rate at which the professor could just manage to observe. Gerrard dived quickly into a forward roll and out of the scythe's reach. The rough cobbles had a profound effect, he stumbled slightly as he stood, staggering back and almost falling. The uneven surface made his back burn. He retained balance and caught his breath, steadying himself with a couple deep breaths.
Magus swung back, making the weapon look like an air ax by the way he wielded it. It almost touched him, but his simple stumble had added that much needed inch from being struck. The wide strike from Magus left Gerrard an opening he couldn't throw away, he rushed forward with strength and speed, keeping his wit about him and his sword closer, only rising to strike when he was close enough to hit. He did not doubt his opponent's speed and strength, but he did not doubt his own either.
He forced the lifted sword down, hoping to land even a tiny hit, something that would boost his morale and get him back into the flow of fighting. If he landed a hit he'd be prepared to take one, but he never liked it the other way around.
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Post by trigger on Jan 30, 2012 16:45:58 GMT -5
When Gerrard managed to dodge his initial attack, for some reason Magus couldn't help but find himself ever more amused and hopeful at the prospect of a good fight. Him hoped, also, that the Teacher would live up to it, and fight back with some sense of energy.
As the Scythes second counter ended it's swing, Magus was met with the Katana the Professor wielded being readied to try to land a strike on the Mage. He knew when the opponent left the opposition a chance to launch their own counter, then again not many would leave the wide stance that Magus had left himself in pass by without at least taking one swing in an attempt to be the first to gain ground.
Given the blade was coming in a downward fashion, Magus twisted his wrist slightly, bringing the black pole of the scythe upwards, catching it in his free hand as to block the falling steel blade.
The blade hit before Magus could properly brace himself for the forthcoming impact of the sword, which knocked the Warlock down slightly. The sharpened blade was mere inches from his forehead. Magus pushed himself upwards, pushing the sword up to. When he'd evened out the forces to keep him stood up, Magus went to kick the Solider in the gut, hopefully putting some more distance between them and giving him another opening to strike on him.
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Post by gerrard on Jan 31, 2012 17:05:22 GMT -5
Magus blocked with a speed almost as inhuman as his previous attack, the shock of the impact of the weapons sent a painful jolt up Gerrard's arm. He held on fast to his weapon despite the pain, forcing his blade down with as much strength as he could afford to waste at the time. Sparks flew as the two blades began to grind against each other, screeching of metal pierced his good ear, making him flinch and twist. The sound was awful, a terrible wail that made his teeth hurt, the frequency resounding through his body.
Magus made another sudden move, one which Gerrard didn't have time to calculate, even when he was hit it took him a while to figure out what had happened. The mage's foot rocketed into his stomach, instantly knocking all of the wind out of him, his legs buckled and he fell to his knees, his sword clattered out of his hands as his muscles gave out briefly. Gerrard keeled over, reaching hopelessly for his sword, his fingers numb and his arms burning. He managed to fumble the hilt of the sword into one hand, lifting it up and digging the tip into the ground.
"You bastard..." He wheezed, forcing the words out, trying to clamber to his feet. The sword kept losing its grip on the stone, and his recovery was slow. He began to panic, his movements more erratic. He dug the blade into the ground again, pushing himself up.
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Post by trigger on Feb 2, 2012 14:41:49 GMT -5
The teacher fell to his knees with the first successful attack. Oh how Magus smiled.
The sound of metal as it clattered to the floor was like music to his ears, Gerrard had fallen down and was unarmed. In a normal fight it would be the perfect opening to swing his scythe and cleave his head from his shoulders. Though, he could not do that here, and strangely, nor did he want to. Even if he expected more from the Meister, he was finding this, almost, fun. After this he might attempt to take the Londoner more seriously.
The Professor managed to grab the hilt of the sword, in an attempt to climb to his feet. The Mage stood, almost casually, before him now, scythe held loosely at his side.
"You Bastard..."
Magus smirked.
"Not quite."
With a swift moment, Magus brought the scythe behind him, before swinging the black re-enforced pole to the side of Gerrards neck. He knew he couldn't kill him, or really do lasting damage. For one he'd have his partner on his case and his kid. And he'd probably get kicked out which, while he could work his way around it, was preferable avoidable. The Warlock darted backwards after, putting yet more ground between them, stood in a more noble pose.
"There's got to be more than that? Show me how a solider really dances"
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Post by gerrard on Feb 4, 2012 17:39:47 GMT -5
The sword slipped once again, this time to Gerrard's relief. The harsh clatter the blade made was, for once, music more than it was noise. The black scythe hilt rushed over his head with enough force to have broken his neck. He reached again for his sword as Magus bounded away, putting more distance between them. The sword felt like a relic in his hand, it was lighter than it should be and for once it felt like a natural object, and extension of his arm. Albeit not a very useful once thus far. It had not served him at any great length yet, he was still trying to use it properly. He needed a gun. Guns were his perfect tool.
After steadying his breathing and clearing his head of all thoughts, Gerrard finally felt a little better. As in he boiled like a kettle or sauce pan. White foam bubbling over the lip of the cauldron in rage and humiliation. Forced to his knees within a couple of seconds? Perhaps not even two minutes, or even sixty seconds. What kind of man was that weak? That pathetic? Perhaps his strength was all an illusion in his head. This was not going to end well.
"There's got to be more than that? Show me how a solider really dances"
Gerrard clambered to his feet, holding the sword by his side, his head lolling back on his shoulders. He exhaled once, loudly. "A soldier doesn't dance," he said simply. "A soldier survives or fails to see another day. I will only take one or the other."
He looked forward, right through Magus' solid form. With a strange, fluid stammer, he began to walk forward. Tempting the mage to attack. The sword's tip clattered against the floor, he rolled his head back, exposing his throat. A free arm hung lose by his side. There was nothing natural about his movements, his lunatic sway as he walked o an odd beat.
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Post by trigger on Feb 18, 2012 15:32:24 GMT -5
"A soldier survives or fails to see another day. I will only take one or the other."
So far, Gerrard had been completely different in battle then Magus had imagined. So much less relentless than he had in mind for a man such as this. He wasn't attacking often, and instead, put on a show. Shibusen was famed for it tangible connection to most things magic related, but only a rare few Teacher were actually touched by it. Magus, regardless of the extent of his inability to access any Meister talents he could have had, knew Gerrard wasn't one of them.
That didn't make him any less interesting, however.
The Warlock's stance seemed to relax, his shoulders dropping slightly. How easy would it be, in a real fight, to rain all hellish fire down in a single command? The reaction would be one of splendid horror. He was limited here, but that didn't make him any less able. Magus knew better then to attack first, but he wanted something a little faster then the current pace of fight, but everything about the way he moved was wrong for it. But he knew he was waiting.
"You do have a way with words..."
Magus lowered his stance, showing all the signs of a launched attack. Bringing the scythe's blade behind him, the next strike was an obvious one.
"But I was promised a battle."
Darting forward to close the gap, landing firmly only a couple of foot away, Magus didn't use the blade of the scythe to strike the Teacher, but rather, used the pole of the weapon as a lance, driving the pointed tip of the shaft to encourage a faster dodge or block. Magus knew he had to tempt the fight now; Gerrard wasn't going to stand and give a fight so easily.
"And so far, I haven't been impressed!"
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Post by gerrard on Mar 6, 2012 16:54:47 GMT -5
It was an intentional predictable attack, Gerrard could see that. The way Magus carried himself was an open warning to the thrust forward with the pole of the massive scythe. There was a moment of hesitation in him, his mind went blank from standing still. He felt light, somewhat distant and dead. Arms and legs dead weights, the sword in his hand light as a feather. It was strange, nothing of importance, just a moment of brain/body disconnection. He though his short sensation would kill him, obviously it wouldn't have been on purpose, Magus was trying to provoke him to attack for reasons he stated so boldly just a few seconds ago. Gerrard caught Magus's eyes briefly as he lunged, and he thought he saw an invitation to jump. Probably just his imagination, but he processed it anyway.
In reaction, Gerrard moved somewhat like a snake, ever so slightly to the left to avoid the scythe and let a powerful kick smash forward towards the mage's chest. Not an attack he was counting on, sure, it probably wouldn't even buy him any time, seeing how his opponent was literally much thicker is muscle than he was. After he did so he spun away and ended up behind Magus, slightly dizzy but had enough bearings to keep still. He stammered and groaned, realizing what a stupid idea the flashy spin had been, not to mention it made him look a little more gay than he actually was. That or he'd look like a rookie ballerina.
"A fight? We are fighting, just... not as violent as it is in the movies," Gerrard said simply with a shrug. He passed Murmur from one hand to the other and then back again, his swings were so lose it looked as if he might end up throwing it away on accident. If that happened, he was sure to look a right fool. He was less worried about looking a fool in front of Magus than he was in front of Alice and Isaac. In fact, he was not worried about looking a fool at all. Instead, he was actually thinking about his tactics, and that his lack of movement was, after all, for a purpose.
Speaking of Alice and Isaac, Alice was sitting rather casually on a stone bench. She had very little worry for Gerrard since, having lived with him, was very used to him never getting seriously injured. That thought ran through her head and then she paused. No, wait. That's a lie. Before she then placed her baby son on her knee and held his tiny hands, the boy paying apparently no attention to the very weak excuse for a brawl that was taking place behind him.
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Post by trigger on Apr 15, 2012 8:05:32 GMT -5
Gerrard had seemed lively enough when he was showing the Mage around the Academy, but now he was nothing like that. Magus found himself extremely disappointed in him, despite his ability to dodge his attacks. Given, he had made some time before he attacked just to get the teacher moving. Gerrard wasn't even fighting. There was no battle here. The teacher wasn't trying to fight. No matter what justification he gave it, there was no battle.
Magus allowed the kick to strike him. The force pushed him back a few inches, but there was no indication of pain, or real damage, and he didn't move as the sword-wielding Professor landed behind him. The Warlock sighed, relaxed, and stood up. He lacked the air of violence he had before when he had been trying to initiate some kind of duel between them. Gerrard had offered, after all, but he wasn't even trying.
It had already been decided that this was a waste of his time.
Turning to Gerrard, he locked his crimson eyes with the swordsman. "I can see this is getting nowhere... -The Scythe vanished in a blue flame as the Mage extended his arm out to his side- "When you really wish for a battle to test me with, please, come and find me." Magus bowed slightly, but not with any real purpose. He stood back up, as proud as ever, and swept back his cape in an overstated fashion. "For one, I don't wish to spend any more time here than needed. I'll see you tomorrow before classes, I suppose"
To say the least, Magus had been sorely disappointed by this so-called 'fight'. Gerrard was not willing to put his soul into a duel, which always took any deal of hardship from the battle. Magus would not waste time or be judged by someone who had proven nothing but lacklustre spirit in a battle they had suggested. By doing this, Gerrard had only proven himself easily beatable, even if Magus wasn't going to risk magic here.
The man of blue hair turned away, and headed towards the long staircase of Shibusen. He didn't know what he'd do with the rest of his deadly boring day. He would prefer to head into the Academies Library, but the school was full of kids, and he'd look more than a little suspicious.
How disappointing...
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Post by gerrard on Apr 15, 2012 12:07:24 GMT -5
Gerrard could only smile when Magus gave up. It was something he hadn't planned on, but it please him none the less. He stood and sheathed his sword, and began to walk back up to Magus. Even though he'd meant to be insulting and spiteful, that was his way, that was who he was. Gerrard wasn't in the mood to get angry, in fact, he wasn't in the mood to get annoyed. He had, however, annoyed Magus at that was evident now.
Gerrard winked and Alice and she laughed, rocking Isaac in her arms and turning to the door, smiling to herself. She waited at the door, watching with some anticipation.
Gerrard put his hand on Magus's shoulder and smiled wickedly. "You don't like style very much do you? It's not all hack and slash."" Gerrard frowned and sighed. "You didn't eve land than many attacks and you say it wasn't challenging? If it hadn't been challenging, wouldn't I have been on my knees begging for mercy?" Gerrard's eyes narrowed and he pushed Magus forward. "FUS RO DAH!" The light of the soul wave rushed out from his hand. He intended to re-start this fight, and pissing off his opponent seemed like a rather good idea. Once the blast had finished he intended to draw his sword and jump back, preparing to take an attack from the scythe Magus used.
(Sorry the post is short, couldn't really do much XD)
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Post by trigger on Apr 18, 2012 1:29:11 GMT -5
In the back of his head, Magus had known that Gerrard would retaliate explosively. Most of him had assumed otherwise though and just because he was near he'd forgotten that you can never 'assume' when it comes to enemies you've never fought before. And, when he thought about the next few seconds, he realised why he shouldn't be foolish here, either. Just judging this place by the masses was an ignorant move. They had tricks here he could never do, a certain magic. The one thing he'd truly ever consider a weakness of crippling effect.
Soul Wavelength.
The blue light seemed to seep into his soul and attack him violently and relentlessly. It was a strange, stabbing pain. Sharp and unlike any other pain he'd felt, but not the most painful thing. That fact couldn't make it hurt any less, however. The Warlock tried to stand fast against the natural force of the attack, but the riddling pain weakened his concentration, and even he was send tumbling to the ground a few feet, close the the stairs of the Academy.
The crimson eyes failed to burn as brightly in the aftermath of the counter attack he'd stupidly allowed for. He regathered what strength he could for the time being, Dreamreapers' flames seemed skittish and unstable as it appeared in Magus' hand. The Scythe served as a tool to help the Mage back up, trying to hold back a choking cough from his throat. Magus eyed the teacher with narrow eyes, breathing slow and heavy.
"Hnn...y-you..."
He couldn't hold his composure for too long, after that, the ripping cough burnt up his throat. The hand he'd brought up to stop the liquid crimson seemed dyed again in a bright ruby red, a trail of blood in the corner of his mouth. He stared for a moment. That attack wasn't the most powerful out there. Nevertheless, he had to carry on fighting. Magus was not one to buckle so easily. But if Gerrard decided to risk that again so soon after, the odds were not so sure that the soul-locked ex-Prince could carry on.
"Y-you got...me. Ahh-haah... Fair Play...But-"
The Mage took a painful breath, and forced himself to regain his composure, standing up again like the proud warrior he had been before. The weight if the weapon in his hand re-established that.
"-I'm not finished yet."
Magus growled the the Teacher in a rasping voice. He agreed he himself had made a foolish move but that did not mean he was willing to back out. There was a silence for a short while between the to. It lasted for all of a few second before Magus made an obvious attack just to get his bearing again, charging at Gerrard and swinging his Scythe around with what seemed like inhuman speed. Of course, he could not land this attack. It would cause too much damage.
But the move that the Teacher had made, however, would do nothing to issue the fight again, or even to annoy the Warlock, but only serve as a reminder that not everyone here could be judged on such shallow terms.
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