I'm willing to oblige, provided I may see your sheet.
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STATUS: A warm fire place, milk tea, and reading old RP'S at five AM. Good Morning, RPG.~ 9 yrs ago
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A warm fire place, milk tea, and reading old RP'S at five AM. Good Morning, RPG.~
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@DLL
Posted.
Posted.
Persian-blue waters reflected sunlight like sparkling diamonds, shimmering stars tracing the light from a bright yellow sun that hovered over the horizon. Corban counted three chained islands in total since he was spit out of space and time onto the outermost beach the day before.
Each landmass bore similar resumes: Many trees, several caves, and various man-made structures, such as bridges connecting them, yet bore no other life than the fish. If looked at from a bird's eye view, the landmasses also formed a geometrically perfect isoceles triangle, something the doctor-mage wasn't entirely sure was a coincidence. Regardless, he appeared thoroughly out of place in the summer water-world. Or perhaps it would be more fitting to say 'it'? It may have been the wide-brimmed pointed hat that it wore upon its head, or the unmatching(yet same-colored) black lab coat, but in this line of work, uniquely dressed characters were a dime a dozen.
The true wow-factor came in his execution of form. 'Corvana' as he affectionately called this body sat with her butt upon a thoroughly bent tree trunk, whom's length extended past the man-made high-rise and over several feet of crystal-blue water. She was physically perfect insofar as Corban was concerned, bearing a form, waist-size, and bust that could only be thought up by a man. Beside her, leaning against her crooked tree was Ishtalle, platinum hair drooping like misting clouds over her form.
"Interesting...." S(he) began. Her fingers curled and flexed, the sand several feet away and below her earthen pedastal beginning to rise and coalesce in similar motions. "I never thought it would drag me in, but now that we've been here a while, I think im beginning to understand."
<Understand what, exactly?>
"This things nature. It bears a unique faculty for the alteration of space, time, and relative dimensions. Each one seems separate from the last. Im also not convinced we're being teleported across a single landmass."
<The atmospheric differences are too exact.Keen eye.>
"This is engineered. It's like a living non-biological entity formed of reality marbles!"
<So its similar to me in some regards, then. We'll have to keep that in mind as the contest plays out.>
"I learn best on the fly, anyways."
The rising sands were clumped and forced together as they were silently transmuted into about a dozen rhinestones of every shape and color, yet never larger than a small rock. They flitted and spun like tops across the sandy shore, kicking up water and quartz in their stride back to their masters. Majority of them were willed into her various pockets, while three -diamond, sapphire, and ruby- were caught between her fingers before she began juggling them.
"Hmm. Do you think this place has Paopu fruit, Ishtalle?"
@DLL
I think I'll be taking first post. Hope ya' don't mind.
I think I'll be taking first post. Hope ya' don't mind.
Hooray for round 2!
Also high fives to I and shawdy for being the only combatants to have a clear winner in their fight!
Also high fives to I and shawdy for being the only combatants to have a clear winner in their fight!
That was what it meant to be a Guardian. To maintain ones ground even in the most explosive of environs. When you are expected to hold a choke point on your own, you had to be a fortress: Immovable. Perhaps that explains Corban's penchant for charging into attacks instead of evading them. He was also borderline suicidal. Whether that effects his decisions or not is for the reader to interpret.
Corban was prepared for the explosive monsoon the moment his star-plasma missed its target. Again, it seemed Jett realized his mistake in charging a guardian head on, and would try for explosive force to compensate for his losses. Luckily, Corban could defend himself with less than Jett put out. Explosions were incredibly wasteful, especially when trying to carpet bomb a single enemy. Imagine all the wasted energy put into the exploding droplets that wouldn't land anywhere near Corban!
"And this is the second time you've failed to commit to close combat and opted to try and explode me, instead. I think I've got a pin on your style now. That will make ablating the armor that much easier."
Two fingers traced an arc across the sky as a shell of ice deeper than a starless night appeared over him. All of the light, motion, and energy of the few explosions unfortunate enough to diffuse around him were drawn into a nigh infinite sink, like a Newton's Cradle into oblivion. The explosions also kicked up a hell of a lot of debris and dust, which Corban would make work in his favor. As the exploding rain faded(unless it's a continuous effect), his iced shell of oxygen collapsed. The carboniferous mist thickened preternaturally, particles of dust morphing and ovulating to better obscure vision. Jett's backward push would also become the nail in his coffin.
If he'd recall earlier, when he deflected a greater portion of Corban's molecular buckshot, the diamonds were not destroyed, given the force applied was only enough to reapply force instead of powderize. The way they landed formed a rudimentary spell circle several feet across, and Jett would leap right into it. With a snap the rhinestones pockmarking the earth lit up with curtains of light not unlike the tails of an aurora. With Jett in the center, he'd feel his power being dampened. something was plugging his ability to build any form of external magical force. Like the magnetosphere, the powerful dispel circle acted as a magical deterrent.
His pseudo-magic plugged, therefore so too his versatility, he'd have no fancy tricks to escape his doom. Yet again in the middle of the street, this time blinded by his own destruction, he would never see the grass-hued beam come until it was too late and exploded through his sternum like a tank buster.
"My antimagic works fine."
Corban was prepared for the explosive monsoon the moment his star-plasma missed its target. Again, it seemed Jett realized his mistake in charging a guardian head on, and would try for explosive force to compensate for his losses. Luckily, Corban could defend himself with less than Jett put out. Explosions were incredibly wasteful, especially when trying to carpet bomb a single enemy. Imagine all the wasted energy put into the exploding droplets that wouldn't land anywhere near Corban!
"And this is the second time you've failed to commit to close combat and opted to try and explode me, instead. I think I've got a pin on your style now. That will make ablating the armor that much easier."
Two fingers traced an arc across the sky as a shell of ice deeper than a starless night appeared over him. All of the light, motion, and energy of the few explosions unfortunate enough to diffuse around him were drawn into a nigh infinite sink, like a Newton's Cradle into oblivion. The explosions also kicked up a hell of a lot of debris and dust, which Corban would make work in his favor. As the exploding rain faded(unless it's a continuous effect), his iced shell of oxygen collapsed. The carboniferous mist thickened preternaturally, particles of dust morphing and ovulating to better obscure vision. Jett's backward push would also become the nail in his coffin.
If he'd recall earlier, when he deflected a greater portion of Corban's molecular buckshot, the diamonds were not destroyed, given the force applied was only enough to reapply force instead of powderize. The way they landed formed a rudimentary spell circle several feet across, and Jett would leap right into it. With a snap the rhinestones pockmarking the earth lit up with curtains of light not unlike the tails of an aurora. With Jett in the center, he'd feel his power being dampened. something was plugging his ability to build any form of external magical force. Like the magnetosphere, the powerful dispel circle acted as a magical deterrent.
His pseudo-magic plugged, therefore so too his versatility, he'd have no fancy tricks to escape his doom. Yet again in the middle of the street, this time blinded by his own destruction, he would never see the grass-hued beam come until it was too late and exploded through his sternum like a tank buster.
"My antimagic works fine."
Corban watched scrutinously as the man ate his diamond-fullerene storm, not missing the fact he'd drawn blood. How peculiar that he could even still book at his current speed! Corban thought to himself. Each of the decomposed munitions unloaded a small squall of hyper-sharp edges that would flay flesh and tear apart muscle. His wounds may have been small, but in biology depth is more important than surface area. Every nick, cut, and scratch would be more like puncture wounds, and the larger ones would leave ghastly bleeding holes like someone had bitten chunks out of him. Compared to Corban, whom was in prime condition and hermetically sealed within his verdure cocoon, he was quite sluggish.
The familiar feeling of converging energies centered upon Corban, and then those suspicions made reality by the panels and vectors of information displayed from his visor.
-Metamagnetic disturbance detected.-
-Kinetic Dispersal Initiated-
-Phase Complete-
A burst of kinetic force radiated from Corban's shield, which was attached vertically to his back. Conservation of momentum applied here, and the two pushing forces would cancel one another out, or at least almost did. Corban himself was a fulcrum, oddly staying grounded the entire time. Calibrations and quantities of force could easily be ascertained from this distance, so Corban would deflect a majority of Jett's magical push, but allowed just enough through to kickstart a deadly experiment in physics. The free energy was cycled through haptic contact, and funneled into the head of Ishtalle's swiftly icing scabbard. As Corban spun on his heel from a low center, he gripped her hilt with his right hand, Ishtalle appearing as she did before in the imaginative space within his visor.
<Target Acquired.>
<Kinetic Drain Initiated.>
<Bose-Einstein condensate detected.>
Just as he would reach the crux of his spin, with the butt of Ishtalle's scabbard facing Jett it would swivel at an upward angle before being fired with all of the energy that could be gathered from the heat in the area, aimed for his chest. With him in mid-charge, inertia and momentum would work against him as the wooden bullet would crash into him like a ton of bricks. It would not pierce, but stop him dead in his tracks and launch him off his feet several dozen inches and do more than knock all of the wind out of him.... Only a few feet or so away from Corban. For all intents and purposes, it's never safe to be within fourteen feet of Corban at any given time.
Even in the case he deflected the sheathe-turned-weapon, the upward angle and force would knock him into the air regardless, due to those pesky laws of physics. Good thing Corban was good at juggling. Following the shot, he rose from out of his spin, Ishtalle's eutactically smooth mirror-face convected wind and ozone in a star-plasma arc that would tear apart the earth at his feet, and strike Jett from his bottom right to his top left.
Corban held the superior ground with Jett limited in the air, and Ishtalle's chigirized edge would cut any makeshift defense into ribbons, and grind any enchantment into dust. Of course, there was always still the beam-rifle, which was aimed and primed in the likelihood he'd try to pull a fast one.
The familiar feeling of converging energies centered upon Corban, and then those suspicions made reality by the panels and vectors of information displayed from his visor.
-Metamagnetic disturbance detected.-
-Kinetic Dispersal Initiated-
-Phase Complete-
A burst of kinetic force radiated from Corban's shield, which was attached vertically to his back. Conservation of momentum applied here, and the two pushing forces would cancel one another out, or at least almost did. Corban himself was a fulcrum, oddly staying grounded the entire time. Calibrations and quantities of force could easily be ascertained from this distance, so Corban would deflect a majority of Jett's magical push, but allowed just enough through to kickstart a deadly experiment in physics. The free energy was cycled through haptic contact, and funneled into the head of Ishtalle's swiftly icing scabbard. As Corban spun on his heel from a low center, he gripped her hilt with his right hand, Ishtalle appearing as she did before in the imaginative space within his visor.
<Target Acquired.>
<Kinetic Drain Initiated.>
<Bose-Einstein condensate detected.>
Just as he would reach the crux of his spin, with the butt of Ishtalle's scabbard facing Jett it would swivel at an upward angle before being fired with all of the energy that could be gathered from the heat in the area, aimed for his chest. With him in mid-charge, inertia and momentum would work against him as the wooden bullet would crash into him like a ton of bricks. It would not pierce, but stop him dead in his tracks and launch him off his feet several dozen inches and do more than knock all of the wind out of him.... Only a few feet or so away from Corban. For all intents and purposes, it's never safe to be within fourteen feet of Corban at any given time.
Even in the case he deflected the sheathe-turned-weapon, the upward angle and force would knock him into the air regardless, due to those pesky laws of physics. Good thing Corban was good at juggling. Following the shot, he rose from out of his spin, Ishtalle's eutactically smooth mirror-face convected wind and ozone in a star-plasma arc that would tear apart the earth at his feet, and strike Jett from his bottom right to his top left.
Corban held the superior ground with Jett limited in the air, and Ishtalle's chigirized edge would cut any makeshift defense into ribbons, and grind any enchantment into dust. Of course, there was always still the beam-rifle, which was aimed and primed in the likelihood he'd try to pull a fast one.
@DLL
Like any science nerd, I highly revere Einstein. They do say that most philosophers who are known well incorporated music and sound heavily into their thinking.
Einstein was a very accomplished violinist.
Like any science nerd, I highly revere Einstein. They do say that most philosophers who are known well incorporated music and sound heavily into their thinking.
Einstein was a very accomplished violinist.
Well, then. I guess it's just I and Shawdus left, now?
In other news, scientists have listened to the vibrational waves within a black hole for the first time.
Music is everywhere.
In other news, scientists have listened to the vibrational waves within a black hole for the first time.
Music is everywhere.
Subversion was a technique often employed by the Guardian, and it was incredibly rare that one would think it wise to attempt it in on him. Corban was a knower of all, yet master of few, and of those masteries he made it a point to punish those who would challenge that mastery or try to subvert him in predictable ways. If one were going to defeat Corban, they'd need to think far outside the box... In hindsight, guarding was probably not the best option to take against a guardian.
~Projected walls of force, hm? It's either a spell, or some kind of telekinetic barrier. We've seen both before.~
<Then we can deal with it the same way.>
~Precisely. Why work on a case-by-case when you can have one technique good for many uses!?~
A percentage of the buckshot would be successfully deflected in sparkling arcs that would pockmark the ground with steaming, hyper expensive rhinestones as opposed to skewering Corban. A strange thing, indeed. The missing numbers in that equation would punch through his barrier like bullets through water. His crystals were insulated against magic and its subsidiaries from the outside, yet highly receptive from within. The larger fragments would not be deflected, but pass through to pierce and pepper the man within with crystalline bullets. Upon impact, the flechettes would rapidly decompose, creating more exacerbated, spread wounds. If he did not protect his face, he'd find that there was an incredibly large chance that hed come out of his little cocoon blinded by diamond shards, as well.
At the same time, Corban primed the barrel of his rifle, aimed for the man dealing with a crystal buckshot -and wherever he may relocate to-. The inner spell-circuitry lead like the roots of a tree to the crystal nexus that lay at the center, inscribed with complex arcane algorithms. The trigger was pulled and the spell-crystal was triggered, releasing a highly compressed stream of abjurative, sky-blue energy.
When met with physical or magical opposition, the Disruptor beam would implode into a blast arc. When met with thicker material such as earth or steel, the beam would produce an arc and then a thinner secondary beam. More focused piercing power would penetrate the thickest defenses. When met with something soft like aerogel, the beam would widen into a wide '>' shape that would wash over the material like a wave. If his barrier was still up, he'd find it turned against him two-fold. If not, he was still in clear sight, in the middle of the street, and thoroughly occupied with armor-piercing, rapidly decomposing crystal shrapnel.
"I don't think so. I still haven't even begun thinking two steps ahead, yet."
~Projected walls of force, hm? It's either a spell, or some kind of telekinetic barrier. We've seen both before.~
<Then we can deal with it the same way.>
~Precisely. Why work on a case-by-case when you can have one technique good for many uses!?~
A percentage of the buckshot would be successfully deflected in sparkling arcs that would pockmark the ground with steaming, hyper expensive rhinestones as opposed to skewering Corban. A strange thing, indeed. The missing numbers in that equation would punch through his barrier like bullets through water. His crystals were insulated against magic and its subsidiaries from the outside, yet highly receptive from within. The larger fragments would not be deflected, but pass through to pierce and pepper the man within with crystalline bullets. Upon impact, the flechettes would rapidly decompose, creating more exacerbated, spread wounds. If he did not protect his face, he'd find that there was an incredibly large chance that hed come out of his little cocoon blinded by diamond shards, as well.
At the same time, Corban primed the barrel of his rifle, aimed for the man dealing with a crystal buckshot -and wherever he may relocate to-. The inner spell-circuitry lead like the roots of a tree to the crystal nexus that lay at the center, inscribed with complex arcane algorithms. The trigger was pulled and the spell-crystal was triggered, releasing a highly compressed stream of abjurative, sky-blue energy.
When met with physical or magical opposition, the Disruptor beam would implode into a blast arc. When met with thicker material such as earth or steel, the beam would produce an arc and then a thinner secondary beam. More focused piercing power would penetrate the thickest defenses. When met with something soft like aerogel, the beam would widen into a wide '>' shape that would wash over the material like a wave. If his barrier was still up, he'd find it turned against him two-fold. If not, he was still in clear sight, in the middle of the street, and thoroughly occupied with armor-piercing, rapidly decomposing crystal shrapnel.
"I don't think so. I still haven't even begun thinking two steps ahead, yet."
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