Information
Time: 4:44PM
Location: Wisconsin
Date August, 29th.
Weather: Slightly humid and clear skies
Temperature: 70°F[/align]

Posting format:
After both fighters have posted, the initial poster will be allowed to make the first strike in their second post.

Format of the fight:
A battle shall end only when one or both fighters lives have expired; however, if their fight last longer than need be their bout will continue whilst everyone else progresses to round two. This way both fighters may play out their feud without seriously inhibiting the tournament’s progression.

Rules:

• Players must be at either side of the road.
• There's no field limit.
• Everything can be manipulated and/or destructible.
• You can not attack in your initial post
• Layout is here
• You are disallowed to edit your post without permission from Mobius and authorized personnel. Once your opponent has posted, the previous post YOU make shall remain untouched unless authorized. I will immediately disqualify you if you edit post after your opponent post (with some exceptions)

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Flavor Text[/SIZE]

Enter a farm: broken and abandoned, it teetered upon the edge of Wisconsin in rusted red coating. An unassuming fixture forever frozen in a tableau of glistening chartreuse, and infinite expanse rich with naught beyond the scenery offered by wheat fields and green pastures. Picturesque if not for a loose aggregate of dilapidated machinery crumbling beneath the weight of age and rainfall, once proud tools of economic progress they have since then been relegated to a sideshow existence. Added to this graveyard of motionless machinery on the west, a barn, while traditional in its dimensions and appearance, elemental influence has reduced its lustrous red coat to a dull hue. Barn doors no longer stood as protectors of the overgrown shed, but as remnants of savage vandalism, leaving them torn and divorced from their charge exposing its hay filled insides. A farmhouse was the final attraction, complete with broken windows and worn surface, an echo of the decay that surrounded it.

It was a simplistic arena, but more than adequate for a wise fighter who knew how to exploit his/her environment. Humble terrain provided each warrior with a plethora of tactics to be implemented at leisure. Whether it was to simply charge recklessly into battle without fear of compromised equilibrium, thanks to dry terrain, or to hide behind one of many rotting tractors in preparation for an ambush. To each his own appeared to be a major focus of this bland battlefield as the opportunities it offered suggested. Malleability to situational variables was another key essence it gave to both fighters.

Poised at the forefront of a dirt road ambiguous in its length, they stood as one of few markers for a site that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. An unlucky victim of poor location attracting only monthly visits from whatever greyhound bus happen to be passing by or even rarer, a drifter. Even then it was a rarity for anyone outside of those few spectators who knew where to look to even acknowledge its presence. Though an unwise place to live, it was ideal for a fated battle set to take place shortly. Two contestants entered, but only one would emerge whilst the other found them self cast into the maw of oblivion.

Choice of transportation was optional, be it by boat, plane, or some metaphysical form of travel, conceived through supernatural means. Drawn by bravery, valor, or something else entirely, it was here they flocked for a prize to be announced only at the tournament’s end. Until such a time came blood sport was the central premise of this game as implied by its purpose and overall scheme. Of course why anyone would want to take up this challenge and traverse the globe simply to fight was another story. The reward for survival this round, however; would be little more than satisfaction one received from tearing asunder their unworthy foe. They would manifest their courage on an elongated path tar from one horizon to the next, cutting a black scar between the barn and limitless wheat. ~Credit to Doll Maker - 2007 Tournament preliminaries

Humans were never good at taking care of their older, unused structures, leaving them abandoned to be worn away by the elements. Why even build such temporary structures that wouldn't ever stand without regular maintenance? Paint wore off; rain waterlogged old wood to swell and rot it, especially in the midwest where spring and summer could be absolutely miserable, humid months filled with high heat and heavy thunderstorms. The fact that this old barn still existed was nothing short of a miracle. Even the machines were likely nonfunctional, simply sitting in the open, their internal workings rusted and stiff from disuse.

It was a wonder even the wheat was still alive.

A boy walked through the crops, looking out over a golden expanse that was ever so dull to his eyes. His attire was strange, out of place for the location and time- brassy, golden metallic armor that fit his form perfectly, as if made to his exact measurements. Spiked shoulders, clawed gauntlets, and an open-faced helm that looked distinctly like the horned crown of a dragon- most of his body was covered in this dazzling armor, the only open spaces being his face and the palms of his hands. Of course, the boy's armor hid his "normal" clothing- underneath was fairly standard, casual attire, a comfortably fitting t-shirt and a pair of old jeans. The only part of his outfit it didn't hide was his bow and quiver, probably for ease of access.

... Boring place, don't you think? Jason thought casually, almost conversationally. A voice answered him.

Try not to get complacent, a different voice thought back, seeming stern, but even it had an undercurrent of excited anticipation. We cannot know what else is coming. Even boring can be useful.

"Right you are," Jason muttered, this time aloud. He gave the wheat field another cursory glance- he was of course on the side of the road where the field was smaller, the road in front of him and the barn and farmland behind. Past the road was the seemingly-infinite wheat, itself unremarkable and boring, but also affording little cover aside from the wheat himself. Here, at least, there were strategic hiding spots, but Jason did not foresee having to use them. Finish this quickly, easily- that was his goal. No use spending more than a few minutes of his life on the rabble when he could be out facing more worthy enemies.

The Shapeshifter gave a light sigh, tilting his head upwards with is eyes closed as he breathed for a moment.

Wheat had such an interesting smell.

Let's get started.

The wait would itself have been annoying were Jason not a predatory creature, used to such delays, ever-patiently waiting for the prey to show itself and its weak points. And reveal itself his prey did, after maybe a minute of Jason standing around and breathing in the stale air and smell of old crops. His and his companion's extra sensory capabilities picked up the man first, long before he entered into view, a faint but complex network of electrical impulses bounding towards the scene where battle would be held. Jason kept his eyes closed until his enemy entered a range at which the Shapeshifter could hear his approach.

Sharp green eyes watched the bear of a man with an indifferent expression that could only be described as totally, utterly bored. A well-built body, surely after years of honing it, beginning to stretch and limber up and yet all Jason did to react was watch neutrally. Gauntleted arms crossed as some part of him wanted to walk away from this strangeness in front of him, but he gave no outward indication that he was anything but indifferent to his opposition. Already, Jason's gaze flicked to various parts of his adversary's body, not in admiration but in cold calculation. The fact that his man was so proudly and thoroughly displaying his form and physique only served to allow a latent predator, a dormant wolf, a good look at his prey and any potential weak spots.

... Does he even know I'm here?

But finally the man straightened up, finished with his exercises, and looked directly at his somehow-still-there enemy, an armor-clad teenager. An eager joy and warmness not fitting the situation or bearer was plain as day on his face, to which Jason could only raise an eyebrow to. He would have snorted at what he could only describe as naïveté were he not just wanting to get the battle started. He of course displayed none of his growing impatience, simply giving his enemy a cold smile in return. Some were simply too enthralled by bloodlust and the thrill of battle, he supposed.

The moment Gonad opened his mouth, the crack of lightning interrupted him.

It seemed that Jason's impatience had somewhat won out, or perhaps he wasn't in the habit of recognizing that his opponent was attempting to converse with him when both were clearly there to fight, most likely to the death. A bolt of electricity arced straight for Gonad, a seemingly simple enough attack that probably served to mask what them happened immediately after- no, near-simultaneously. The boy took a step back, away from Gonad- and suddenly he had grown, the golden armor transforming with him so that the protective horned crown now framed the head of a black dragon. Wings that were suddenly somehow there beat against the muggy air and stagnant dirt and crisp wheat as a fully-grown dragon took to the air.

He had to restrain himself from setting the entire wheat field ablaze.

• It is stated by the author: sweat laced chest and struck tremors in the wheat ~ DocDoctor. This conflicts with the statement of Gonad dampening the attack of Jason/Mimrnig's bolt since sweat contains electrolytes which is conductive. This decreases the resistance skin has to electricity
• Though Keileon's attack was not specific; her profile sheet was specific enough for her attack to default. The lightning strike of her Mimring character is comparable to a lightning bolt. This is important because even if the attack wasn't from a specified source Jason can also use Mimring's electricity due to 'Spirit Link - Electroimpery'
• A lightning bolt is between 25ka to 30ka and up to 500 megajoules of energy. The voltage depends the length and because there was no significant distance between both characters then potential for voltage drop is negligible as it is deadly.
• It takes less than an 1amp to kill a human being, and Gonad is no human; although, 1ka is specifically 1000 ampere.
• The heart can fail under such amperage.
• Involuntary muscle contract can happen at high voltage/amperage which can stun a person hence showcasing their inability to move. Upon contact one might as well been dead.
• The voltage of such an strike can go from thousands of kilos to 1 Gigavolt (1 billion volts).
• Gonad's mastery of his muscles allows him to recover from the attack; however, he cannot feasible mitigate it because of the next point.
• Beardforce has a clause stating that it cannot ignore attacks from empowered or "superhuman" entities. Jason, and Mimring, are neither human nor beholden since their abilities are already above a normal human being.
• Beardforce cannot determine the strength of Gonad's adversary before an attack is unleashed as this violates both the Meta-gaming rule and the ban on precognition.
• Gonad's muscle abilities, such as reactive muscle memory surpassing his reflex, was not activated in response to the immediate attack Jason/Mimring unleashed.

Ruling:
The beardforce cannot scale with an opponent's abilities or, especially, laden abilities as this would violate two rules of the tournament (Metagaming and precognition). Gonad, then, must scale with what was visibly or physically demonstrated or not at all. Gonad referred to his opponent as a "Fancy Boy" before changing his tone to match the electric attack he voluntarily took. That piece is is impotant because Gonad's profile sheet describe having beardforce scaling with the perceived threat of an enemy meaning such a foe was regarded poorly before taking on the attack.

Secondly there is no FRT(Fast Reaction Time) to Gonad other than Beardforce precognitive abilities which is disallowed; hence, we are going off of his muscle memory reacting before he could. We cannot determine his actual FRT speed and because it was not used in his response to Keileon's attack means he took the initial hit and maximum damage it is capable of before readjusting his muscular mastery to adjust. This contradicts Beardforce inability to whether threats and dangerous from powerful foes and thus the immense power of Keileon's defaulted attack on a character whose base strengths are analogies to bears, dead movie stars, and athletic runners means Gonad suffers the severity of a lightning strike BEFORE he activated his muscle master. This is a mistiming of his character's effects. Gonad would have to had initiated his defenses either upon meeting or visual contact with the attack which did not happen. Gonad has a lack of defenses to begin with as stated by Beardforce.

Verdict: After an investigation we are moving for a legitimate OTK (One Turn Kill) in favor of Keileon. Keileon proceeds to the next round.

I accept the loss, but I do want to have my say alongside the above ruling, that both be taken into consideration. There are two sides to every coin, huh?

I was never asked to alter that portion of Gonad's profile, as pertaining to the Beardforce scaling flawlessly with an opponent's full latent power, nor was I notified of such a change. What's more, my profile was misread by the judge, who incorrectly stated that the Beardforce only scales from Gonad's perception of an opponent, when in fact it's based from their full latent power as well. Gonad also recognized the kid as an opponent on sight, and so on sight did the Beardforce activate. I am aware of the no metagaming ruling, but I should have been told before the fight about what changes were implemented to my character. It was an impossible attack to dodge, and without warning Gonad was deprived of his only means to survive the attack. It wasn't a mismatch, but a severe judicial error.

Gonad is susceptible to enemy attacks, doesn't mean they all kill him, particularly if they are straight up impossible to react to and avoid without powerplaying.

Say you have a giant standing three miles tall. He can kill with his breath alone, so powerful is he. Gonad is powerscaled to the might of the giant, able to trade blows with it. Should its breath, effortless and impossible to avoid due to how much of it there is, considered deadly to lesser creatures, be instant doom for Gonad, who is no lesser creature? Is it a full force attack requiring all of the giant's assets to land, as how a punch from Gonad requires the synchronization of his whole body to a task?

That is how I came to my decision to take the blow, rather than dodge it and wind up with a massively hypersonic Gonad. This being a mid tier tournament, I did not consider it reasonable to be able to move in response to lightning.

Think of an armored man with a machine gun facing a naked man wielding only his fists. A good comparison to the Beardforce's application is to think of how physically capable the fistfighter would need to be to stand a perfectly fair chance of beating the armored gunman.

The ultimate purpose of the Beardforce is equalization to the purpose of a fair fight, the very core of Gonad's power. Again, the function of the Beardforce, by its very nature, is to make a fight even-steven for both competitors. If it is not allowed to fulfill that purpose I'm essentially forced to compete with a severe handicap. Was it fair for the Beardforce to grant Gonad, a barehanded melee fighter, a high resistance to electricity, taking into account its redundantly high velocity, range, and spamability? How Jason's entire body was electrified to the touch? Or would it have been more acceptable to move in reaction to lightning? The Beardforce is a simple power, one that doesn't require a working technical knowledge of physics.

I feel that the fight was lopsided in the sudden nerfing of Gonad without my notice and the forced inability to fairly deal with the lightning as a result. An OTK? Yes. Legitimate? Well, hasn't a winner has been declared? Logic enough, I suppose. I must still respect the judge's decision, for in all honesty, I should have anticipated the vast subjectivity of how everyone defines 'fair', misread profiles aside. I had many indications that the Beardforce was too ambitious a power, yet I ignored them with the thought that I could somehow give 'fair' a tangible form. It was a matter both too controversial and too encompassing to be at all practical in a competitive environment such as this one.