[IC] The Journey to a Dream: Alphonse vs ??? [Ranked]

[Rilla]

The cafeteria had gotten too crowded, too many people, too many personalities, too many powers. No, even Liaison was cleaner than this, the man who couldn't be touched allowed only sixteen at max in his little game. Whoever was orchestrating this may have used the blueprint for the architecture, but didn't follow the same plan for organization.

He hated praising that man for anything.

But he had too, he ran a clean game by all appearances, and this - well, this wasn't a clean game. When the gunshot rang off, and the powers flared up, Alphonse took it as his sign to vacate the premises. These people were, for all intents and purposes, unwise to the game being played here. Sadly, even his own teammate, one named Worren, wasn't immune to this. It seemed the Combustion Maven, Terra, was amused but that didn't translate to a political game.

Scarlet scarf laid flat along the back of his robe, Geoffrey and Geovanni scabbarded at his right and left, the man known as Dessembrae, rose and headed out behind the wall of angered competitors. Head hidden beneath the large hat, he said not a word to anyone as he passed them, including a new arrived pair of teammates - the String Trapper and the masked thing. Both were the brains.

His path of quiet steps took him through the lobby, and past a multitude of man, women, and otherwise gendered creatures from all multiverses. He moved with a certain grace, almost as if gliding by each person to avoid a confrontation.

Looming before him were the teleportation chambers, sophisticated pieces of technology that Alphonse would never understand. He knew their function, and that they could be controlled via user interface.

The eyes of The Warrior closed, and the Lobby was left behind.

---

The process of interdimensional and time travelling involved the deconstruction and reconstruction of a person(s), and their reconstitution at their destination.

In Alphonse's case, his reconstitution took place in a lush forest area. Tall trees of mahogany, ironwood, bloodwood, and others were vibrant and full of life. Animals crossed along the ground, soared the sky above the sparcely interrupted canopy, and swung from branch to branch.

Life here was rich. He could feel the ambient Chi of the area flowing almost uninterrupted. This was a place of meditation, a solitude, of reflection.

He walked a mile or so, slipping around vines, under tilted trees, and avoiding other things. He didn't want to disrupt the natural beauty of the area.

Alphonse eventually came upon the closest thing the area had to a clearing, but that wasn't saying much. With extra care and caution, he placed himself on the ground - hat to his left, swords to his right. His robe was shrugged off his upper body, revealing his battle scarred, fit body to the elements surrounding him.

Deep breath.

Calming.

Deep breath.

Release.

Deep breath.

His body tingled as he felt the Chi of his body mingle with the natural Chi of the world. In some respects, he could sense everything happening with the world of this Chi. In others, it was powerful, the most powerful thing he'd ever felt, and he had seen the likes of Existence being manipulated by whim at the hands of a now deceased Paradii.

Situated around him, at distances between five and twenty feet, were the electic mix of aformentioned trees. Bloodwood was among his favorite, as it was as hard as steel, making it a hard tree to cut down.

Peace surrounded him, dancing with his chi and that of nature.

Bliss.

[MelonHead]

He brushed back unruly black hair and winced as a ray of sunlight piercing the thick canopy on high briefly shone into his eyes. He cut a strange visage, one hand occupied with a beautiful but strange black-wood bow, some kind of dark leather of an almost armour-like quality covering his entire body save for the hood he had left down to his misfortune, and a small quiver of arrows at his hip. He could have been mistaken for a huntsman, with his well-built six foot frame and the ease in which he traversed the treacherous terrain of the forest. Save for the fact that he was armed with both a strange stone-dagger and an equally exotic short-sword, weapons of war rather than tools of the hunt. Despite the fact that the lone man was certainly not a huntsman in a conventional sense, such an assumption was not far off the mark.

For he was hunting at that moment, save for that his prey was human.

Of course, the lone figure was a Vampire, out of his haunt in the day despite his severe vulnerability to the sun. Adrian Valdovsk, almost three hundred years old, had decided to break one of the cardinal rules of his race. He had forsaken the safety of his lair as a sudden thirst overcame him like never before, that thirst of course being the overwhelming desire for blood.

He knew in his heart as he set out that happening upon some young woman trawling through the forest was highly unlikely, hell, he was unlikely to find anyone at all. Still, the desire was pulling him, tugging him ever closer to a confrontation which he couldn’t have expected.

As he walked he appreciated the sights and smells of the forest around him with a clarity only those who had embraced the night and gained the predatory senses of the Vampire could achieve. He opened himself to everything going on around him, and felt almost giddy at the sensation, he raised his arms wide and the bow dangled from his finger-tips. The world washed over him in waves, driving him to the next level of awareness, he even smiled cautiously. Suddenly, he stepped into a patch of light and recoiled as if stung, the scowl returning to his handsome features. It was just like the sun to remind him of his situation.

Bastard.

He spent another hour or so in the woods, before finally deciding to return to his cave and sleep through the rest of the day. He promised himself a great feast when night fell, placating the beast within him with some difficulty, and set off roughly back the way he came. Despite all his bush-craft however he must have wandered off his well-worn path at some point, because he neared the edge of a clearing. For obvious reasons, he was reluctant to advance, but he could smell something which was almost causing him to salivate. Blood, fresh blood, pumping through veins, forced through the heart, thump thump, thump thump, he delighted in it, the heartbeat carried him away to places he had long since forgotten. His fangs emerged almost of their own volition and he grimaced.

What a monster I’ve become

He strolled to the edge of the clearing, remaining cloaked in shadow, lifting his hood to cover his features. He cared not if he was detected, for he wished to toy with his prey, who he quickly noted had discarded his primary means of defence, all the better. He spoke in a soft tone, none the less still audible in the quiet of the forest.

“What brings the swordsman
to this quiet place of peace?
Does he mourn his dead?”

[Rilla]

The ebb and flow of chi urged him in directions, as life danced eternal around him. In tune, now, with the chi he could feel the very life of the blades of grass, the last sparks of same from dying branches. So, when in his reach, he felt the familiar thrum of magic, tainted with the aura of the technically dead, yet full of what some considered unholy life, he was unsurprised when he was approached.

Sky blue eyes reared upward, taking in the attire of his companion, hidden from the splotches of sunlight that shone through the canopy. What he sensed earlier came from this man, his passive familiarity with chi enlightening him to the knowledge the newcomer could manipulate magic, yet not which. Not yet.

Seeing it rude to speak to the man from the ground, he rose as the comer spoke in a strange pattern. He had heard it before, but not so casually spoken. Geoffrey and Geovanni now scabbarded, in his hands, and his height fully erect, he spoke to the man.

"The swordsmen seeks solace from a vengeance where nothing is gained, and everything is lost." Alphonse spoke, while placing Geovanni on his side.

And you, man of the afterlife?" He questioned.

There was little reason for this creature to be out in the world, lest he was on the hunt for his next meal. Alphonse, himself, was partially surprised that he had not simple burned up. The Warrior in him noted the creatures's weapons, including the loosely ready bow.

This was particularly interesting to Alphonse, for why would a creature of the night, not only be out during the day, but need to carry weapons? Almost subconsciously, his grip adjusted on Geoffrey, a slight adjustment, but enough to allow a quick defensive measure if needed.

His chi danced within him, precautionary, but gathering itself for use. He could feel the vortex of energies ready to lash out. Perhaps the man wanted naught but to pass him by, and for that, Alphonse would be grateful. He wanted out of the business, out of the game - but strange murmurings always dragged him back.

This time, it was the color amythest. An odd color. It lashed at him in dreams.

"Wish you to pass, my friend?" He asked, motioning with his blade, simultaneously preparing his grip, as well as scoping out the environment. His chi told him all there was, but the eyes, well, they could tell him more with confidence.

A brisk wind blew, and his scarf danced, his skin tingled, his mind sharpened.

[MelonHead]

Adrian regarded the man silently, his eyes boring holes into Alphonse even as a heat rose up through his cold undead body. Thump Thump… Thump Thump… the heartbeat, the rushing blood, god he wanted it. There was something about how he stood though, this man, he was not easy prey. Adrian was not one to look for a difficult confrontation simply to test himself, he’d rather just drain the life from some defenceless woman and be on his way. Hell, it was usually more satisfying anyway. Did he wish to pass then, to return to his haunt and sleep off the day?

“This is my forest
If any may claim ownership
over such a place.”

He was surprised by the words even as they left his lips. Still, this was his home after all, this intruder should have listened to the stories, he should have known to fear the creature that stalked the dark forest. He looked at Alphonse and suddenly snarled, his fangs bared.

“There is a toll here
There is a price to be paid
I’ll be taking blood.”

His left hand shot up, bow raised, his right diving to the arrows at his hip and neatly drawing one from the quiver. It was nocked to the string before a human could blink an eye. Drawn back with the strength of a Vampire, released in one smooth motion, the arrow span in flight, covering the scant twenty feet between them in an instance, it neatly slotted between trees, driving towards the centre of Alphonse’ chest. His hand dipped low to the quiver even as he loosed, his left foot forward and the muscle of his leg flexed, as if preparing to retreat.

[Rilla]

Twenty feet separated the two men in that forest, a distance not vast by any stretch of the imagination. The man whose chi tasted of the Undead had positioned himself close to Alphonse, with a solid few strides before the blade would be in range.

Was it on purpose?

The man had replied, claiming ownership over all that was here - indicating that Alphonse, himself, were but a trespasser. He had been in such situations before, many ending amicably, with the offending party usually packing up and leaving. Which path would this one follow?

Alphonse shifted, seemingly uneasily, offering a conceding smile - in reality, he was positioning himself for a quick escape, a plan already forming in his mind. If the man were serious about his claim, then Alphonse was subject to death. To survive, he would need to take the bow out of the equation.

Passively, he his sense of the man's chi increased, revealing him to be a capable user of magic, though which type was yet not clear. Inwardly, his magic began to shape, slowly taking form as a human shape, an adequate defensive measure.

Watching his opponent, he immediately noted the snarl from his once friendly comrade. The Warrior in him took over, battle instincts from hundreds of skirmishes, his left foot stepped backwards, leg muscles tensed.

The arrow came with an exquisite speed, but the speed of Alphonse was equally impressive, and his sword lifted. The arrow continued onward, but was met with the sharp edge of his sword. Cut in twine, it aimlessly soared past his body, which had been positioned into a smaller target.

Across the ill-defined clearing, Alphonse could see the owner of this forest had already reached for a second arrow. The man was fast, and sure with his shots. He needed to take care of that.

In a flash, he shot to his right, dodging behind the trees thag littered the clearing, taking away potential lines of sight. He disappeared into the thick forest - formulating a plan to cut away options from the Undead, should he follow.

[MelonHead]

The Vampire had nocked another arrow to the string, after drawing it across the top of his hand and drawing blood, even as Alphonse made good on his escape. He had eight arrows left. Alphonse had nimbly deflected his assault, though Adrian had expected no less of such an opponent, to be struck down by his first strike would be woefully anticlimactic. Still, what Alphonse knew of fighting Vampire kind was questionable, considering his decision to run further into the denser and shadier forest, rather than closing the distance and forcing him into the light of the clearing. Still, Adrian was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“The Hunt awaits me,
What worthy prey I now chase
Fleet of hand and foot.”

It wasn’t particularly comfortable to run with the string drawn, so he loosened it and held his bow low pointed to the ground, the arrow still primed with the soft whispering of his poison spell. With his supernatural qualities it would be a thing of immense ease to re-draw it and shoot when opportunity presented itself, but for now he had to establish line of sight. Adrian immediately headed him off while keeping to the edge of the clearing, running at a straight diagonal to come in about twenty feet behind Alphonse as he ran into the forest, showing surprising speed for a human, as far as the Vampire could tell.

However, Alphonse was at a significant disadvantage here. Adrian knew the forest well, three hundred years as a hunter in both life and death had taught him how to move both quickly and silently through the forest. This was aided now by his experienced application of muffle, a simple spell which none-the-less silenced his footsteps, making him somewhat harder to detect. The Vampire had no way to know that his foe was detecting his energy through the medium of Chi, but for that moment hiding his presence was unnecessary regardless, he hid his footsteps out of sheer habit.

Alphonse had gained a slight lead by not having to avoid patches of sunlight, but Adrian had still drawn close enough that as the nimble warrior darted between trees, he finally ran out of luck and a clear shot presented itself. Such was the nature of the forest, it could be protection for those who sought it, but not forever.

Adrian loosed his arrow from a little over twenty feet away as Alphonse headed towards a tree. He would have to slow down to avoid the obstruction, giving Adrian’s shot its best chance as it flew through the air with unerring accuracy, once again aiming for dead centre, but this time at his back, as it was the easiest target for the Vampire.

[Rilla]

The thing a warrior learns quickly, oft within their first few bouts, if they are lucky enough to survive, is that all parties fall into a specific role. This is often based off strategy, but some are unfortunate enough to be forced to play a role. Those forced, lose, those not - win. Alphonse was in the latter.

His run through the forest put him in what many considered a disadvantageous defensive position. After all, he was being pursued by an Undead, who showed remarkable chasing skill, armed with a bow and arrow. To an outside observer, he was indeed in trouble - to Alphonse, his opponent had already lost.

Alphonse's quickly darted off between the trees and beneath the branches, being tracked by, and tracking, the 'owner' of this forest. Oh, Adrian was quick and seemed to know this forest to a startking degree, but Alphonse was capable of tracking him by his chi pattern. In fact, he could discern some basic information about the chi manipulations he used. One stuck out to him, one that hinted at the ability to coerce a foe. Not many undead held such skills, one - however - did.

Vampire.

His chi senses told him where his opponent was based off Chi signatures. He hsd stopped running, why would he do that?

A tree loomed in front of Alphonse, his target, but instincts took over. He swept to the left, swinging his body along that circle, a moment before the arrow whizzed by him and embedded itself in the tree. So close it came that he could feel the wind cutting by.

Sharpshooter!

Alphonse changed tactics by stopping, and adjusting his body to face his hunter. He shifted his right foot forward, keeping a small target and placing his sword to the fore. It seemed that the only long range skills the Undead possessed was his bow, and twice now that had proved fruitless. Would he forego it for a more close up tactic? Legs muscles tensed, body loose, ready to move offensively or defensively Alphonse stared in the direction of Adrian, challenging him to attack once more.

[MelonHead]

The arrow loosed from his bow, specks of blood falling in its wake as it cut its deadly path towards the swordsman’s unprotected back. That should have been it, game over, hunt complete…

Something subtle in the way Alphonse moved told Adrian that the impossible was about to happen just before it actually happened. He was used to animals doing something similar, their bodies stiffening as they caught the scent of the hunter just before the arrow was loosed, giving them that slim chance to survive. Alphonse was apparently embracing his inner hare, because he too had sensed the hunter and now with an impressive burst of speed and agility he was avoiding his death by a hairs-breadth. Adrian began to consider how this was possible, but further evaluation had to be put on hold briefly.

The arrow-head shattered as it hit the tree, one of the traits of obsidian tipped arrows, potentially splattering the swordsman with sharp shards of rock as a reminder of how close he had come to finding himself on the end of the arrow. Adrian snarled as he saw all this happen in quick-time, his reflexes far beyond any human, he stopped himself with a single over-step, leaving him perhaps eighteen feet from his now stationary foe. Simultaneous to stopping he reactively dropped his right hand to his hip-quiver and nimbly drew another two arrows, unfortunately without time to spare to poison the head. Adrian hadn’t had much time to evaluate his prey as of yet, but what he had quickly discerned was that he seemed to be using an eastern sword, probably a Katana though Adrian hadn’t seen one for a fairly long time. The assassin in him was keenly aware of his own limitations, and what fights to pick. Getting into close combat with a Katana was likely to get his head separated from his shoulders, considering the range disadvantage he faced with only a short-sword and dagger at hand.

With all this in mind another arrow was once again nocked to the string, with another arrow held loose in his right hand, the Vampire more than happy to try and even the playing field by first inhibiting the swordsman’s ability to fight with an arrow wound. Alphonse was likely to rush him, considering there was still a clear line of sight between the two between three trees, through which Adrian had fired his first arrow. The swordsman would find himself in trouble this time though, Adrian knew his capabilities, and his limitations.

He fired again, at about the same time the swordsman had managed to enter a defensive stance, aiming for his foe’s right thigh a little off to his right hand side. It was an awkward position to block an arrow, even with a shield, though his opponent had already proved capable enough to actually reliably defend against arrows with his sword alone. This in itself was amazing to the Vampire, though he wasn’t one to show it.

However, Adrian wasn’t quite finished as he speedily nocked the second arrow as his first took flight, having it prepared at about the same moment his opponent would be forced to deal with the first attack. The second would come immediately after, exploiting the defence to increase the likelihood of a successful attack, this time launching an arrow at Alphonse’ chest, aiming to perforate his left lung. He would see if the swordsman could match the speed of a Vampiric Hunter’s arrows.