(Closed) Deceuer Catch All

[mirshikar]

Who: Asura + Plotted CR
When: Deceuer
Where: Various locations in Aefenglom, the Outer City, and the Wilde.
What: Quest and event threads, along with a healthy dose of clowning. I'm always down for building new CR, so if you'd like a thread starter, feel free to hmu @ the Dec plotting post!
Warnings: Light violence.

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[mirshikar]

[ Truth be told, Asura is largely unconcerned with determining a victor of the night: he is invested only in Avenger; in learning how those who hail from other worlds might carry themselves in a fight. And Avenger? They're fast, more nimble than the King can claim to be. Though they are of similar height, Avenger boasts a wiry build (from what little Asura is able to make out between flashes of firelight) where the King himself is heavy with corded muscle through the shoulders and back, equipped with armored scale to absorb the impact of sudden strikes—

—much like the one he greets (heedless, without a care) after abandoning his rooftop perch, pitching himself forward with a surge of momentum (Asura's haste belying his languid demeanor) to meet with the downswing of Avenger's first foray into the light. It will connect, that opening move, and Asura will be given a better idea of his opponent's strength for it as he recovers with a grin that speaks to his love for combat, every facet of it. From the sting of injury to the thrill which swells in its wake.

With a wave of his taloned hand, Asura gives life to a second bout of magic: a dozen spheres of flame, shaped anew and set into a ring encircling the both of them. It's no Crown of Clashing Fire (there are no thorns; no burning briar to truly bar either contender from escape), but it will do—and with its rise, perhaps the King will even be able to glimpse his partner's (first in dance, now in a spar) face for the very first time. ]

[ressusciter]

[there's no doubt from the blow that he's strong - fitting for someone who spoke about learning different disciplines, who chose hand to hand as a method of combat. a strength cultivated through years of hard work, hidden beneath his taste for clothes that conceal, but it's too easily accepted for him to feel like it's so quick as to be anything but calculated.

enough of this, then, enough hiding, and the coat that had been so essential in keeping him in shadows, he discards, at the right time for the firelight to reveal him to the King. white hair and golden eyes, and a fierce smile to be engaged in combat such as this, against someone who might actually give him challenge so that he has to truly think during.

and now that it's all begun, he laughs before he dashes in again, coming from the opposite side as he did before and looking for a low opening to strike out at.]

[mirshikar]

[ And there it is, the big reveal, arriving with the whir! and whish! of a coat swiftly discarded, the dark fabric falling as a curtain before its owner with a measure of flair that Asura can appreciate—vocally, a low whistle upon the King's lips as pale hair and acute, golden eyes flash, reflecting the firelight. So this is the person who'd been his dance partner at the masquerade, Avenger who wore a smile nearly befitting of Summer but so too chose to cling to the shadows like one of the Silent Arrow. What an unexpected surprise...! ]

So this is the face that you wanted to hide? [ Intense and fierce, nowhere near so restrained as Avenger's behavior had been at the gala. But then, Asura knows there's no soul alive who doesn't wear many masks, many faces for the world at large—the King himself is no exception, as forward and as brash as he is on any given day, especially when he's up against someone who can hit hard enough to r e a l l y make him feel it. ]

Think it suits you more than that mask and coat of yours.

[ This time, the King evades Avenger's strike (no, he won't be so easy to hit again), though he remains close, putting no distance between them because...! This is good, old-fashioned hand-to-hand, isn't it? No further magic will be employed on Asura's part, now that they're in the thick of things, and where he can grapple with Avenger, he will. That's why Asura will make to seize Avenger by the shirt-collar with one taloned hand, and take hold of the man's wrist with another if the maneuver is successful, twisting back the arm to lock the joint of the elbow.

It'll likely only hold the other man for a moment, but it's a break in the fight, one allowing for banter. And surely, Avenger's got something to say, hasn't he? ]

[ressusciter]

[like this, he feels less like he was stripped of something in the transition between worlds. less like the guarded persona of the Count, something refined and cultivated, and more like the old him who faced down storms without batting an eye. these changes might be seeping into him, altering him, but his spirit feels untouched, and his frustrations can be shelved for a while.

one can do any number of tricks with a blade, with a gun. with one's body, honesty is forced, and deception is more of a trial to get off. his arm is grabbed, twisted into immobility, but it's nothing that will keep him pinned for long.]

More than dancing?

[he still has a free arm to slip underneath, to push to break that hold on his collar so he can twist and use the grip on his wrist to pull Asura forward. trying to upset his balance enough that when Dantes throws a roundhouse kick to that side, he'll either have to absorb it or let go to avoid it. regardless of the response, he knows he can step and bring his heel down towards the other's instep as a follow.]

[mirshikar]

[ S m o o t h. Asura goes where he is beckoned, following Avenger's pull if only to see where it might lead—and that is toward the beginnings of a kick, the other man's shift of motion (a raise of knee, a sharp pivot) telling the King all he needs to know: it's time to cede his grasp upon Avenger's wrist and seek another avenue to guide his partner down.

But before the King has the chance to launch an offensive, Avenger is close at hand, their heel a spindle driven into the leather of Asura's boot (destabilizing and wickedly swift). Stopping in his tracks (Asura, he has no need to pursue Avenger when he already shares such close proximity with the man), he huffs out a breath (a laugh), and grins as he makes to drive an elbow solidly into Avenger's chest, the strike driven by an (only somewhat) outrageous rotation of Asura's core body (stemming from the hips).

And whether the thrown elbow lands or simply forces Avenger back, Asura still finds room to articulate— ] When we danced, it was all my rhythm and none of your own.

[ —before pressing forward (leading with his alternate foot), intent on serving up a right hook to catch Avenger with (nicely, because Asura has manners, with talons pressed into the palm of his own hand to prevent them from catching flesh). ]

But this side of you? [ The Avenger who answers Asura with quick ripostes and deliberate returns? ] I can sure appreciate it.

[ No matter what comes next. ]

this tag got eaten by the holidays i'm so sorry

[ressusciter]

[he pulls back to avoid the elbow, just out of its radius so he can stay near, plot his followup. yet there's a hook coming right at him, and he decides to take it with his arm, letting his forearm absorb the blow. it's good, solid - tells him enough about the other's obvious strength, and it makes him grin in return, sharp and bright.]

Back then, I had to play nice.

[but now? now he's free to act as he pleases. now he's free to move forward, stepping right back into personal space before he's throwing an uppercut towards Asura's jaw.]