C.H.I.M.E.R.A. Corps. Rest & Revelations! Sept 17, 2015 14:49:38 GMT -5
Post by Vio on Sept 17, 2015 14:49:38 GMT -5
If this was a real duel, I wouldn't stand much of a chance... His skill with a sword is much greater than mine... Once, twice, three times more did the two blades of wood connect, filling the gymnasium with the sharp clacking of sturdy timbers. Though this was most definitely no fight to the death, as she was more than well aware of, Mari Anette could not help but feel unsettled by the strength and skill that her opponent unveiled. Such grace and elegance, speed and power, and yet this was only a fraction of Ensign Miyami's potentional. Only a small sliver of what he was truly capable of doing. A man who had trained in the way of the sword for an unknown period of time, whether he learned quickly or slowly did not matter at present, for both offence and defence were more than a match for Mahogani. Neither side had landed a clean blow as of yet, despite the consistent exchanges in attack and the increasingly varied methods involved. Neither side was willing to give an inch, incapable of identifying weaknesses save for the obvious limitation of steely strings. Should those thin threads ever be severed, the bond between puppet and puppeteer would be broken. Just one vital string, and a good half of her power could be removed from play.
But, we needn't worry about that now... He's not aiming for the strings... Steadying her thoughts upon what was true about this clash of skill, the quiet carpenter drowned out all other sounds. The murmurings of the audience, the call of Egon, even the sounds of her own mind. All she needed to listen to were the hums of steely strings as they danced in the air between herself and her companion, the gentlest of quivers more than enough to alert her to changes in pressure and movement. From wooden sword and matted floor, through carven physique and shimmering silver, into fingers of flesh and bone. This was the strength of the bond on display, rosé eyes never once leaving the form of Suriko, never once looking at anything save for him and his sword. The rest of her body, every inch of muscle and nerve, was dedicated to feeling what the regal redwood felt. Their bodies were one, bound through the medium of sound - through the goal of a performance of grandeur. A relationship akin to that of a pianist's and his or her piano, channeled through swift and elegant dancing of the fingertips.
He's coming in for another attack, but... This time, it's up to you, Mahogani... Delicate digits plucking upon finest cords, Miss Anette recalled the very first time she had used this technique; a risky gambit which had resulted in a victory against what may or may not have been a truly formidable foe. An undead monstrosity of brittle bone and rusted iron, one of the most frightening sights she had ever beared witness to, and yet this very motion had been responsible for the defeat of such a demon. This same method was still a mystery, its truths entombed within the puzzles and riddles etched upon the pages of her grandfather's journals, and only a small portion of it was available for her to grasp. In the air an unheard voice sang a haunting melody, fingers continuing to dance their tips across the silvery slivers that commanded it, a gentle humming that instilled energy abundant into the slight wooden frame of the samurai doll. In a flash did Suriko's blade fly forward and down, aiming to strike against the intricate idol's shoulder, and yet the girl with hair of cherry blossom did not move her wrists. Instead, she closed her eyes gently, like a butterfly closing its wings.
-CLACK--CLACK--CLACK-A barrage of strikes unleashed in a matter of seconds, demonstrating the aptitude and swordsmanship that CHIMERA's very own Suriko Miyami possessed, each and every strike did connect with solid wood. Not a single blow evaded by the small swordswoman, and yet the silence around them said it all. Upon delicate lips did the faintest smile dance, the song of the sword reverberating through lengths of warbling wire, proving a point despite the eyes of the mousy maiden being closed. She did not need to see it when she, more so than any man or woman present, could feel it. Not a single blow had been evaded, but not a single blow had landed, either. Without so much as a flick of the wrist by her controller, the amber-eyed angel had been able to parry each of the strikes aimed at her with unnerving speed and grace, the beautifully carved wooden katana dancing from left to right in order to repel the offensive might of a man twice her height.
If anyone knows how to use a sword, it's you... You know better than I do, right? Eyes opening once more, the pallid puppeteer allowed the sights and sounds of her environment to pour back into her, stance loosening somewhat as all traces of tension and apprehension escaped from her. Success in defence, as well as in attack. It seemed that the style known as A Bene Placito was quite literally the style of the performer, and the performer in question was easily as adept with a blade as her opponent. In truth Mahogani's actions were quite simple, as were the strikes incorporated by the opposing swordsman, a simple marionette incapable of predicting complex actions - or any action at all, for that matter. Offence had been met with offence, but it just so happened that such basic swordplay was some of the most influential in the world, a design likely incorporated in the original construction of that white-faced warrior woman.
"I... Uh... I th-think we can call it a draw?" Confidence wavering as she spoke, Mari was well aware of the skill that she and Suriko possessed as individuals, even if her modesty preventing her from agreeing with such statements when made by others. If anything, this test of skill had proven that to her, and dragging such a duel on served little to no purpose...So, I've grown super tired of waiting and decided to skip Suriko, though I had to resort to some NPCing in order to work this post out. I think closing out this thread may be a wise idea? Yes? No?