Rumble in the streets! (The Imposter vs Dire Hoef Judge - G)

[The Imposter]

The city came out of something akin to an old cinema film. The colours dripped away in the darkness of the night, giving way to only blacks, greys, and whites. The Parisian streets were bustling with folks of all different ages, conversations and laughter filled the atmosphere with a sense of joyous festivities. One in the crowd, seemed to walk against the tide of people, his long coat trailing against the heels of his feet when they kicked up. His lithe gait asynchronous with the rest of the street’s populace, each step picking up tempo. His ears strained and he heard it again, a shriek amongst the noise. His pace increasing once again as he continued to head to the source. A thick cloud swirled about his head emanating from the Lucky Strike that protruded from his lips. Flinn always found himself in situations like this, and as much as he would rely on the nicotine to sooth is stressing mind he found little solace in the skinny white tube.

His walk was more of a jog now, and as he got closer the atmosphere had begun to shift. People were no longer talking of the festivities but instead of what they saw, although it was all indistinguishable to the researcher. Looks of confusion and fear only seemed to become more prevalent as he neared the epicentre. His mind fumbled over itself with all the potential outcomes, as clouded as the air around him it tried to sort itself out. It had been quite some time since he found himself in a position like this, and with the way the fates were treating him he could only imagine how disastrous the situation could be. The cries were louder now, and snapping out of his foggy internal monologue he peered out through the crowd easily catching sight of what was causing the outcry. The figure stood menacingly about twenty-five feet from him.

The alarms in his mind began blaring, similar to how the old cop cars would in the movies. The high pitched sirens tugged at his nerves trying to tell him this was most definitely a time for flight, not fight. A few beads of sweat began to slide his spectacles down the bridge of his nose, so his eyes now peered over them and fixated on who was obviously his opponent. In what could only be described as a self deprecating drag of a cigarette, Flinn called out in his husky voice. The words rising over the fleeing screams of people.

“ ‘ey You! Any particular reason you felt it necessary to cause a ruckus tonight?!”

Maintaining his composure the researcher leaned forward taking one last drag before tossing it to the cobblestone and stamping it out. His eyes darted from the figure to the surroundings and then back again. Alright Flinn, whatever will be will be….

[Dire Hoef]

「BGM」

Emerge Upon the Battlefield

“ ‘ey You! Any particular reason you felt it necessary to cause a ruckus tonight?!”

The hulking figure rolled its shoulders as it slowly stood to its feet; coming up from its right knee. It stood there amongst the prying eyes of the city street, and noticed that all the mortals that stood before him were, in fact, looking at him in awe and fear. It would seem that these mortals never seen this figure before, not in their entire existence. 'All the better,' it thought as its eyes slowly shifted to a smaller mortal, whom had confronted with, what seemed like, hostile intent. The figure's body slowly turned in the direction of the mortal man, checking itself as though it hadn't felt its own flesh for decades. A small chuckle had escaped its lips, but was quickly silenced when it realized why it was here. The King had called for it to fight upon the battlefield, and had never asked what it thought. What it thought was that it had finally achieved paradise after waiting for centuries. But that thought was quickly shot down, and the sense of anger grew within it.

He looked straight into the soulful eyes of the mortal man, and lifted his right arm into the air to call upon the fires of the material realm. "A ruckus? Mortal, you may not know who you speak to, but you'd be wise enough not stand in my way. I'm leaving that infernal place, and I'm going to ensure the King pays for his insolence. I shall make this realm burn with the fires of Hel."

With a sudden flick of his wrist, a fireball leapt from his palm and flew through the air; heating the space around it. Eventually, the fireball made contact with, what looked like, a cafe on the corner of this bustling street. The fireball would crash through the large front window and land inside the cafe, and roughly fifteen seconds later the cafe would erupt into an explosion of glass and fire. Somebody was seen being flung out of another window while engulfed in flames.

Citizens, who had gathered around him watching on in awe and fear , saw the cafe erupt into fire. They looked back at the armored old man, and began to scatter seeing that he was clearly too dangerous to be around.

The armored old man, calling upon another fireball, tossed another projectile in the direction of the lobby of a business firm. That lobby was reduced to a bonfire in mere seconds; several bystanders were seen running out of that bonfire while on fire.

"Stand with me mortal, I do not wish for my first blood to be some puny excuse for a man. Stand with me, and you'll be given power... power to rule this world!"

[The Imposter]

As the regal figure answered Flinn, the researcher couldn't help but get hung up on the creatures language. Mortal, puny, rule the world. Heh...he might be clad in armor but he isn't that much taller. C'mon now focus don't start commentating. You've been offered powers and the world before, you know where it leads, don't even let it settle in your mind...Why is there always some halfwit that crashes nights like this? The balls of flame crested off behind him, and Flinn winced as his ears confirmed the destruction that followed. A chorus of screams rushed into his mind subsequently to the crackling of flames. The song carried with it a dance as people continued to clear out from the street.

OK Flinn. Time to get real, this cranky coot might wipe the floor with you. I mean do you even see that blade? You're on stall duty, hold him off long enough for more people to evacuate. You doubt that he'll leave this standing afterward anyway. Get with it man!

'Sorry, but I can't do that. Guess your "first blood" is going to be a puny ass despite your wishes.'

The researcher's hands had raised up and even made the quotation marks as he spoke, although as he did it he had the sudden idea that his opponent probably had no idea what he was doing. His stance shifted so that his left leg led and his arms moved tighter to his body. His eyes kept moving from side to side as he tried to think up the best strategy to make the first move. What was merely seconds, although it felt longer in the tense atmosphere of the beginning clash, Flinn had reconciled what his first course of action would be. His feet moved inching him forward a step at a time.

He wasn't running or walking though, but rather his feet slid across the street. The distance closing at a painstakingly slow pace but it wasn't without purpose. When he moved halfway between his starting point and where the brutish elder stood his feet anchored firmly in place. The stance he had taken shifted once more as he assumed the Mighty Guard. His right arm raised up and his fist became and open palm. In what was only appropriate in cheesy Kung Fu movies and the Matrix he beckoned his adversary to come and attack.

[Dire Hoef]

「BGM」

War Path

“Sorry, but I can't do that. Guess your "first blood" is going to be a puny ass despite your wishes.”

"Such insolence will mean your death!" He raised his blade into the air to signal his war-stance, and had slowly spread his legs to be shoulder-width apart. His knees were partially bent, and his feet were pointing in the direction of the scrawny man. His head lowered by several centimeters, revealing the fiery slots that would have been his eyes. The air around him heated up to near magmatic temperatures. The ground, in which he stood on, began to melt with the temperatures as they continuously rise. His anger and his power were rising to unforeseen heights.

Before time had ceased to exist, and every bystander would attempt at escaping the combat zone with their lives on the line, Holgath stepped forward. However that step was slowly being leaned into, and eventually the Forbidden Emperor lept forward with murderous intent in the split of second; closing the distance in mere seconds.

In the midst of the leap, Holgath's blade erupted with fire heating the air around it. The fires from the blade were flicking around as if it were a sentient being, and even more so the fires, itself, was a deep shade of fiery red and yellow.

When Holgath closed the distance, he had swung his blade downward in a diagonal motion; attempting to swipe at the target's shoulder to chest region. This area, of which was targeted by the old emperor and if it hit, would be singed severely (cauterizing the wound instantaneously) but even then the target may have the agility in this fight and could dodge the attack. However, it would only depend on what the target decides to do in this set of seconds.