In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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There aren't enough praises in the world I'd like to give to wonderful coders for the Proboards community. The following have contributed to World Destiny in some way: W3 Schools for countless how-tos and countless of other souls who have helped get WD up to where it is.
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Rules Mods are Merlin, Sephiroth, and Tifa Any of the mods can mod Sephiroth and Tifa cannot mod their own fights Complain if someone is being unfair Any flavor post can be made anytime 1 week to post or you loose If you need more than a week in between posts, let me or a mod know.
Posting Order Rook Edgar Any Mod Rook Edgar Etc.
All fights take place on the Game Grid. NO BREAKING THE GRID!
In a shimmer of light and data, Rook appeared on the Grid. He took a moment to examine himself, and the soft pearl-blue glow his skin now gave off. His clothing glowed blue, except his red undershirt, which gave off an almost purple hue under his vest. Looking up at his shaggy bangs, he realized, with much disdain, that his trademark red hair had been muted greatly.
He shook his head wildly for a moment, both loosening up for the fight ahead, and shaking his hair from his face. Tightly balling his hands into fists, a few knuckles cracked, and he rotated his shoulders before drooping down into a preparatory offensive stance, and waiting.
Technology, Edgar had noticed, varied significantly from world to world. His own, before it had been destroyed, had been primarily steam powered, with gears and pipes and valves. Some worlds were much more primitive, some having just natural tools.
And then the was Radiant Garden, and its computer system. Edgar had never even heard of a computer before he left his world, but they seemed to be fairly common. Edgar had taken to them rather well. But the idea of being /inside/ the computer itself was a strange one, to say the least.
Nevertheless, there was Edgar, royal blue robes glowing in the strange light of this digital world. The tournament seemed like something some of his friends might enter, if they had heard of it. Sabin, Cyan, and Shadow, perhaps.
However, the red-haired teen that stood across from him was none of those. Well, he was here anyways. Might as well try and win this.
Grinning slightly, Edgar gave his opponent a small bow, out of formality. "Edgar." And with that said, the blond king brought up the Autocrossbow, readying himself for the fight to come.
Tifa fiddled some dials on her machine. This fight was between Rook and a man she had never heard of before with what looked like an extremely dangerous crossbow. With luck it wouldn't break anything.
"Round Four, Rook competing with Edgar Figaro, may now commence."
Rook eyed the crossbow, his eyelids twitching to remind him of the immidiate threat it posed. It's a good thing he was quick. Not fast enough to out move a crossbow, but quick enough to out-maneuver its shooter.
He didn't move much from his 'ready' stance, only enough to give his opponent a quick salute. "Rook." With that, he immediately lunged forward, closing the gap between them within moments, ducking and weaving his upper body to avoid fire. Once within striking range, he dropped to the ground sliding along and shoving himself upwards with both hands and thrusting a heavy punch at Edgar's left upper arm.
He kept moving, and hit or miss, he had to stay as far from being a sitting duck as he could. Dodge-rolling after the attack, he limbed to his feet, and arced around in a wide circle, pacing himself, and keeping an eye on his opponent.
Edgar had not expected the teen to move quite so fast, and he just barely to have enough time to soften the blow, though it still connected. So the kid was fast, hm? He could be fast, too. "Haste." As he spoke the word, and the spell went into effect, the blue glow that surrounded the king turned a violent crimson. A bit strange, but there was no time to consider it.
Time to put the Autocrossbow to use. Taking just a tiny moment to aim - aim wasn't /that/ important - Edgar squeezed the trigger down all the way, and immediately the weapon began launching a steady stream of steel bolts towards the redhead's feet, trailing him as he moved. For him, it was now keep moving, or put new meaning to the word "holy". Of course, after the fight, he'd be just fine - that was why they were in this system, or so he was told.
He couldn't quite keep a grin from his face. This should be fun. Hopefully, some of the ladies were watching.
It was barely audible. A whisper Rook would have otherwise had to strain to hear. "Haste." A spell? So soon? Either someone didn't have enough confidence in their own abilities, or put far too much stock in powers that didn't come naturally. Either way, it was a weakness as much as a strength.
Rook darted in a wide circle around his target, trying his best to avoid the constant stream of arrows he felt whizzing past him by sheer hairlengths, bobbing, weaving, in a jagged line, before ducking down, skidding, and shoving himself backwards. He landed on his back, and rolled to his feet again before rushing right for Edgar again at full-speed. Within a few yardsof him, Rook dropped, sliding at his crossbow-weilding foe, and thrusting a hard kick at Edgar's kneecap.
Either way now, Edgar would react and Rook was laying on his back directly beneath him. He needed time. The redhead took a quick, deep breath, and held his hand over his heart. It began to glow with a shimmering white light, the light jumping from his chest and into his palm. He looked at Edgar with a defiant stare.
"Light up the darkness..." He closed his eyes and clapped his hands together once as the light exploded brilliantly in his hands, creating a blinding glare in its wake that burned white against the shielding of Rook's eyelids. With what little time that might have given him, he scrambled backwards on his hands and knees a few feet before climbing to a standing position, his back now unintentionally showing as he tried to regain his bearings.
In fighting one on one, standing still and trailing the opponent with your eyes makes it harder for them to surprise you. As such, it didn't take much to recognize the charge for what it was, and while the sudden change into a kick might have caused problems, Edgar had already given himself sufficient time to get out of the way.
Whatever it was that came next, though, Edgar hadn't been expecting. The brilliant flash took him by surprise, and Edgar staggered back a few steps. Still, his own Flash tool was similar in nature, and he'd been accidentally exposed to it a few times, tinkering around with it. The light was a nuisance, but Edgar recovered quickly, accustomed to the feeling.
After a few moments, it became clear that the redhead had left his back open to the king. Now, some would say it was undignified to strike at an opponent's back. However, honor was one thing, but not taking the chance while he had it was just plain stupid. The Autocrossbow had emptied its clip, and reloading would take too long, as would holstering it, and time was crucial here and now. Instead, the blond dropped the tool, drew the sword at his waist, and made a lunging thrust towards Rook.
If this struck home, it could very well mean the end for Edgar's opponent. If not... well, they'd just have to wait and see.
Staring down into that flash was more than at least one of the judges was willing to do; Sephiroth was just an observer, not a combatant. Still, it abated just as soon as it had come.
Rook blinked to an alert state and turned around, barely quick enough to bend backwards to avoid the slash. He brought up his knee to Edgar's chest, and shoved him away, "Magic, crossbows, swords..? Doesn't anyone have stock in fair fights anymore?"
Leaping forward, he swiveled and dealt a heavy backhand, spun and elbowed his opponent in the stomach, bringing his clenched fist upright and to Edgar's chin. Fearing the sword, he parried backwards a few steps to stay out of range. Rook had his own tricks up his sleeve, but he was rarely so quick to play them.
Rook's knee caught the king in the chest, and Edgar slip back a few feet. The redhead wasted no time in pressing the attack, giving the blond just barely enough time to lean away from the first blow, and block the second with the flat of his blade, off hand bracing the sword across his body. The uppercut just barely clipped his jaw, and Edgar slid back another foot from the force of the blows.
So the kid was fast. What he needed to do was slow him down long enough to land a blow, and he had just the thing to do it. Edgar dashed forward once again, sword at the ready in his right hand. With any luck, Rook would be focused enough on the weapon to not notice his left hand going for his pocket and pulling out a small device: The Flash. Just before he reached striking range, he set it off, jamming his eyes shut as he did so, producing a blinding flash of light. With any luck it would disorient his opponent just long enough for the sword, which he swung at the spot Rook had been in when he closed his eyes, to connect.
Fair is a matter of opinion. Some would call a swordfight completely fair; I would say it can depend on the swords. A short sword against the Buster sword... not quite.
Additionally, all fights' fairness depend on the levels and experience of the fighters. Nonetheless... Clear.
((It wasn't a complaint. It was a general in-fight quip to mock his enemy. Don't read too much into it.))
The light caught Rook by suprise, and instinctively, he shielded his eyes and turned away. Far too vulnerable, he realized too late, even in knocking Edgar back, and reeling away from the bright offensive, there was still enough length for the sword to connect with his forearm as Rook brought it up to shield his face, and left a large cut in his skin. He could feel it wasn't too deep, but not tending to it could prove too much to handle.
Pulling his arm away, he dropped down to his knees, kicking his leg out in a spinning sweep to try and knock Edgar to the ground, he held his unwounded arm to his chest, another bright light beginning to form.