Description: It was only a matter of time before this match would happen. Alma and Oswald head off in what begins as a Neo League match and what ends as an alliance - all for the idea of healing the damage done to Hotaru Futaba - and eliminating her corruption at its source... ( Winner: Oswald )
It's been a long time.
The rustle of ferns and leaves in the faint spring breeze makes for the only detectable movement alongside the stairway that leads up to the ruined but picturesque shrine, the muffled chirping of birds and buzzing of insects the only noise-- save for, now, the quiet sound of steps along the lengthy stone walkway. The footfalls are steady but slow, more ponderous than leisurely, as though the walker were preoccupied, deep in thought. One might think that with such an isolated place, its inhabitants and visitors long gone, any memories associated with it would have by now fading into nothing-- but such is not so.
Alma remembers this place.
Surely he is not the only one to have found it, the tall blond muses as he ambles on, but back when he was first making a name for himself, back when he and Jiro had only just met -- and further on even, when Kain had been, in Alma's eyes, a threat to Jiro -- he would train here, when he had nowhere else. Now such days are past, and though he remembers them with fondness, he does not miss them. But there is perhaps an inherent air of nostalgia to a place like this, and for Alma it is magnified, both by his personal ties and by his own sensitive nature.
He can hear others as he nears the building proper, however, and smiles as he sees the Neo League cameras being set up in remote locations, one daring camera operator even up in one of the gnarled old trees. A long time ago for this place, yes, but only days ago since he first met the man he is about to face here. Having quickly climbed the ranks, the League accepted his petition to challenge this specific opponents-- but while maybe proving himself gave him extra clout, Alma have no thought to the rank itself. He suspects he would be challenging this 'Oswald' whatever his ranking.
There's something about that man.
Hands slipped into the pockets of his designer jeans, the fighting model smiles softly as he gazes out at his memories come alive again, one eye shrouded by a long red-tinged bang; one eye seeing the past, and the other seeing the future.
He's changed, and so have the circumstances.
It's all new again.
Oswald had no clue what was waiting for him outside. No, he was inside the building, taking a look around - searching for something. It's anyone's guess as to what, but it's a well known fact that Oswald tends to have the inside track.
There are voices from inside the building as he approaches the brilliant light filtering in through the open door, one voice, talking to himself - or rather into his phone. Hat on his head, perched low on his brow as he strides out, one hand in the side pocket of his jacket.
"I'm certain it is not here. Someone must have been here first." He speak in that powerful and low tone, posture stemming some sort of disappointment, consternation, "I did not miss anything - it was as you described. The vault was simply empty." There's loud squaking coming from the earpiece of the cellphone, making Oswald turn his head away a tad and expression sour further.
"Don't you think I /know/ that? God dammit Emerson, you're the one that sold me the damn info - if you think for a second that you'll be paid for something that isn't there... " Oh now the speaker's really going at it, but Oswald isn't prone to giving much a damn it would seem, "How am I supposed to help her if I can't find a damn clue on this 'Darker Chi' they keep referring... "
And Oswald quiets as he locks eyes with Alma, drawing the phone away from his ear which allows the noisy little thing to permeate what should be silence with an "...oswald? OSWALD?" And a *click* as the phone is snapped shut.
"Well." He says flatly, stowing the phone in his pocket nice and slow as he gives a short nod, "I knew I'd be seeing you soon enough."
"I apologize for interrupting your call, Oswald-san."
Alma had, upon approaching, quietly tilted his gaze to the side and towards the trees, politely ignoring Oswald until the older man had finished his intriguing conversation. The words mean nothing to the youth, but somehow the references to being 'sold' information do not surprise him. This man's apparent ability and, in a word, unusual demeanor speak to a unique past and an interesting present. Yet such specifics do not concern Alma per se; they are none of his business. They are also not the reason he has called Oswald to a match here today.
"Thank you for agreeing to face me."
The cameras have started rolling now, recording the beautiful psychic's quiet words as he stands in the courtyard outside the shrine's main building, the thick flagstones beneath him now worn and broken and interspersed with tufts of grass and sparse bright flowers, speaking to activity long ceased and the transience of human efforts.
Removing his hands from his pockets, Alma will bow slightly, respectfully, and await his opponent's descent to the same level before rising again. "I'm looking forward to seeing your abilities in action," he says, not bothering to introduce himself again since it was not so long ago that they first met, speaking mildly but with a hint of an honest smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I won't hold back, sir, so please..."
~ What manner of man is this 'Oswald'? ~
Feet shifting, Alma tests the ground.
~ From whence issues his strength? ~
Back straightening, he casts his gaze up towards the heavens.
~ How does my strength compare? ~
He breathes deeply of the fresh air, tasting the ambience of this place, letting it soak in and get his own spirit moving, the swirling mixture within him sending tingles up his flesh, causing a light to brighten deep within his hazel eyes.
~ I'm going to find out. ~
He steps forward, and raises his fists.
"...do your best."
COMBATSYS: Alma has started a fight here.
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Alma 0/-------/-------|
This was a change. A good change. So often he's shown utmost respect to his opponents only for the most part repaid in various levels of scoff and disdain. This was a breath of fresh air. "Hmm?" He questions nothing yet asks much as he returns the bow offered to him, though his is a bit more european in nature, "If you wish to thank me for facing you, Alma, best do so by showing me your spirit."
As he rightens, the light glints into the crimson lenses of his glasses, casting a relief off the golden frames as his arms fall to his sides and with the sound of flicking laminated paper, two black-and-red cards appear tween his fingers in each hand. "The spirit of this shrine wilts. It weeps, saddened by the lack of honor... the lack of ... " He pauses to make a motion of his hand, "...presence which has allowed it to decay for this long."
What the heck is he going on about?
"Let us bring this shrine into rebirth. Let us bring this shrine its due honor, by giving it a fight to make legend!" Barely the moment to let that last word leave his mouth as he drives forward in a mad, rapid dash, drawing his body taut as he turns into a one-revolution corkscrew...
COMBATSYS: Oswald has joined the fight here.
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Alma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Oswald
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Oswald's Ace.
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Alma 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Oswald
Alma is in awe.
The young man looks mildly startled at Oswald's first words, but more out of surprise that a man that appears so unreadable should echo his own sentiments so closely, and blinking, he nods once in assent. Alma will indeed show Oswald his spirit-- in a more direct form that most, even fellow fighters, are capable of.
But if something about this man has already caught Alma's interest, then what follows seals his sense of respect. Enthralled, the normally subdued youth stares with widened eyes as Oswald continues with obscure words and cards from nowhere; Alma looks like a child who has never seen a magic trick before. Yet it's not the cards, as unusual as they themselves are, that get his attention.
These words that this man speaks are the words that Alma knows are often too hard to share, too mysterious to be expressed clearly; these are the words that are sometimes best spoken through battle.
Does this man not care whether or not he is understood?
Or does he feel that Alma will understand?
"It's all new," Alma whispers to himself, feeling his heart warm within him.
Fists clenching, a halo of white light, traced with vibrant twisting lines of pinks and purples, begins to suffuse his extremities, the energy echoing again in his eyes, more visibly than before.
"It's all coming alive again."
He rushes to meet the attack.
"Hrnn!"
Grunting as they collide, Alma brings his arms forward and thrusts back at his twisting opponent, attempting to push him away and, if at all possible, off-balance. As he does so, Alma twists himself, and the growing energy around his right leg ignites with the movement, exploding to life itself as Soul Power wreathes a fierce roundhouse kick in the form of raging flames.
"Hraahh!"
Though as calm as ever, the modest young man's shouts remain loud and crisp with purpose.
If the first kick connects, Alma, buoyed up by his own spiritual flames, will rise and unleash two more kicks, slamming flame-enhanced blows into the older man's torso and head, before gracefully floating back down to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Oswald endures Alma's Rising Fury!
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Alma 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Oswald
"Quick!" He utters as the arms come up and push him away, deflecting the worst of the razor-bladed cards, turning him away and to one side. The Gambler tosses himself into a very short roll as the leg ignites and begins his ascent - but it was a toss-up - instead of going in for interference, Oswald takes the hit and rolls with, even as the extra two punishing blows strike him he stands tall. Bruised but tall.
"Another?" his eyes narrow at the very tail end of the attack, his body landing on feet as Alma does, noting the manifest of energy that gripped Alma's form, "Just how many possess these 'flames'..." He leaps forward with a short but quick hop, arms looping out to clinch at the young man's shoulders to draw them in for knee to the chest.
Kain, Kyo, Batsu, Jiro at one point... and Alma. If so many could manifest their chi like Hotaru did then there was a chance he could learn how to tap the depth of this power as well...
COMBATSYS: Alma endures Oswald's Medium Throw.
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Alma 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Oswald
Alma grits his teeth as he lands just in time to be grabbed by his resilient adversary-- but rather than pull away, his instinct is instead to draw close, bracing himself as best he can as he takes the fierce knee strike to his gut. The breath still whooshes out of his lungs, but Alma remains in close proximity to his opponent; so long as he doesn't know what Oswald can do with those strange cards, the better it is that he has the initiative.
But it's more than strategy that keeps him there. The urge towards the so-called clash of souls that for Alma is so vaunted, it burns brighter than ever when faced with this man. He is pulled toward his opponent, and the thought of backing off, of losing any momentum, of missing any chance to collide whole-heartedly and without reservation against this mysterious fighter's spirit--
"Hmmn...!"
It does not bear thinking of.
In the throes of combat, Alma does not have the words to express this, and so instead he seeks to do so with his flame. Even as Oswald still grips his shoulders, the young man's right hand blazes up in a great gout of white flame, which he seeks to slam into his opponent's chest. The fire will not scorch, but it will burn-- burn straight through to an enemy's mind, sending the same sense of pain through the body, yet penetrating not flesh but one's very self.
Alma will pierce this man's veneer--
"Uryaah!"
--and see beyond his own reflection in those red glasses.
COMBATSYS: Oswald fails to reflect Self Expression from Alma with Heart.
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Alma 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Oswald
It was through that clinch that the next attack was shrouded, and he has just enough time to speak, "You possess a skill I can only dream of! An understanding of something /deeper/ than the physical!" The powerful knee is delivered as Alma's charge and strike is screened, leaving him far too late in awareness when the hand strike his chest - sending him in a short but painful vertical launch, parallel to the ground for a good five feet.
What was left of his attempt to defend is nothing but a light little card, dancing whimsically on the wind as gravity takes hold of it. He just got to taste that power first hand - and as Alma wished, the glasses are gone, lost somewhere in the flight and blow - leaving him to stare into the blood-crimson irises of his eyes, just as red as the lenses ever were.
"If I understood it... maybe..." His eyes narrow as he brings himself up from his feet, rolling his right shoulder as he slides his stance wide and readies himself, "Alma. I know you not - but already I envy you."
Alma actually blushes.
The red on his light-bronze cheeks is as clear as that of Oswald's eyes; the only sign that this remains a battle is that his gaze does not stray from Oswald's own, whereas otherwise the mild-mannered youth might avert his own. "Sir, I..."
He swallows once, fists clenching before him again.
"...I'll strive to be worthy of that!"
Though his power only awakened those years ago under tremendous emotional pressure, still Alma has never imagined that he somehow deserved this gift, or that he earned it. He is well aware that psychic power, with all its unusual strengths and qualities, is not in itself something to be envied except by one who craves its obvious potential for destruction-- and, though much else remains unclear, he does not detect such a desire in Oswald. Such needs are colorful in auras, and often the easiest to spot. Still, with such a great potential, much can be done, for others and within oneself.
If Oswald has seen, in that strike, all the work and care Alma has put into making himself a person worthy of his own capabilities, of the possibilities his life has to offer--
"Here I come!"
Then this, Alma is convinced, is a great man.
Even more earnest that before, respect and resolve as one within his eyes, brightened with the glittering of that strange power, the younger fighter lunges forward, weaving in, thrusting a knee forward and abruptly lowering it, a flowing dance of feints that finally blurs into several jabs and a fierce forward punch, putting all of his energy into his movements, putting all the pressure he can on his foe.
Who knows, under such pressure, what will emerge?
COMBATSYS: Oswald dodges Alma's Strong Punch.
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Alma 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Oswald
Even as Alma rushes toward him, Oswald cannot help but gnash his teeth and shake his head. That power... he could spot it now. It was not just 'hide and seek' manifest - no - it was in his eyes. It was in his body. This power was part of this young man's very /essence/.
The Irishman's eyes stay transfixed on Alma's as the punches and feints come sailing in and it's a mere movement, his head and shoulders twist aside when the trust blow comes, but not once does his eyes leave his opponent's.
"You are not like Futaba. You have power - but you harness it well!" the words aren't loud this time, as the punch brings Alma's head close enough to Oswald to allow him to speak naturally, "There is no poison of hate in your veins - not yet." And his body completes the turn with the dodge, bringing and elbow up as he circles, and bringing it down sharply, aiming to strike Alma between the shoulder blades if the punch draws him past...
COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Medium Strike from Oswald with Divine Intervention EX.
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Alma 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Oswald
Alma's spirit soars.
Nothing is lost with the failure of any of his strikes to connect; he savors every moment of seeing his skilled opponent in action. Inspired by the rhythm of this intense combat, the youth feels beyond all concerns of victory or defeat, of proving himself or testing his might-- he feels compelled only to forge a testament to his being in the heat of this battle, to express the fullness of his self, even if that means weakness as well as strength. Feeling the grace of those with unshakable faith, Alma does not even have to think as Oswald strikes again.
The words are heard, but Alma is beyond reacting to them right now; caught up in the moment, his widened eyes flash again as he slaps the strike to the side roughly and thrusts a hand to Oswald's body again, this time sending a focused piercing beam of light at him and, by all appearances, shooting him straight through, the force of the blow carrying the older fighter away somewhat. The purity of this place resonates with him, finding a home within the purity of Alma's heart; this was once a seat of the divine, and they bring it alive again together, it intervenes to give him the edge he needs.
Only then does he truly hear the words that Oswald spoke.
"Not yet...? Futaba...?"
He takes a step forward, his stance not slackening but his composed visage shifting slightly to express his confusion and concern.
"I would never presume to be immune to the taints of fear and desire that breed hatred, but-- are you referring to... Hotaru Futaba?"
That can't be, right?
"I haven't seen her in a little while," he admits, looking a little more concerned as he realizes that, "but she's one of my... closest friends. She's very strong and wise... why would you mention her...?"
It's hard to tell where Oswald's blow ends and Alma's begins, but the moral of the story is that Oswald is indeed the lesser off of the pair when all is said and done. The spire of light impaling him and sending him twisting away and down to his knees, but quickly up once more shortly after. He had avoided the torture of the Maou Satsujinken, but wasn't quite so lucky with that blast-through-the-body.
"Futaba?" He grunts the question through the burning pulse of pain the attack left behind, filling his body with vivid energy, though not entirely welcome, "Hotaru is prisoner to her hatred - rotting from the inside out." Hips lips curl into a sneer as he rights himself a little more proper now, slowly taking a deep breath and letting it hiss out of him to try and bury the pain away with.
"Someone." He almost spits the word out, "A /She/ has ... twisted her. Broke into her mind and has decided to wrap puppet's strings around her throat. I daresay even her very /soul/." While it's unclear if there's even a connection whatsoever between Oswald and Hotaru Futaba, there is one thing for certain - this sort of thing has his blood boiling. There's something about the very nature of the idea that makes him bristle.
"A vile wench has turned her into an axiom of torment. I have seen her seek nothing more than to send her opponents trashing - I have seen her scoff and turn her back on those she held dear. I've seen her strike her opponents down like a bloodthirsty gladiator, using a corrupt energy of orange and red... a aura of malice... just for the sick pleasure of hearing them scream."
Wordy fellow when you get him talking on something that pisses him off, isn't he? Oswald isn't getting much a breather from this pause-and-parlay, though, even if he takes a breath, "I believe I may have shaken her from her path - but this task is far from finished. She seeks power, and I plan to give her what she needs to break free of this 'drug' she was fed." Of course he means it in a metaphoric sense...
"If you truly are her close friend, then I trust you will accept my offer to help me in my mission." His eyes narrow now - scrutiny, pause, wanting to see if this man was lying about his relation. Alma didn't seem the type to be so underhanded, though...
COMBATSYS: Oswald focuses on his next action.
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Oswald
Alma listens.
His expressions, normally so soft and undemonstrative even in the throes of his great passions, shift wildly as he stands, listening to his opponent speak, seemingly having forgotten himself that this is being recorded for no doubt deeply confused viewers at home. First his eyes narrow, but not in suspicion. Perhaps it will appear merely naive, but Oswald should be able to tell from the sincerity in the young man's eyes that he seems to automatically trust the older man's words, that he could not be lying-- from his own estimation, he has already seen enough of the man's character to judge this could not be so. What is next is to reconcile this image of a hateful, twisted Hotaru with the gentle, kind girl he knows.
Yet he finds that he can do so, his mind returning to that most fateful memory, that moment where he repaired the damage to Hotaru's mind that had been inflicted during her battles in Thailand, when in the process of soothing her tormented soul and releasing that which she had been forced to forget he accidentally shared his own darkness, less a true secret than a possibility: that he could be jealous of the place she has in Jiro's heart. Yet she forgave him without saying anything, and even accepted him as her brother, and he was given yet another great gift by life, a gift that he could never say he earned, one that to this day makes him wish only to fall on his knees in thanks for such a blessing, that the stars would so align to give him such happiness and such an opportunity to be of aid to her.
He promised.
But it remains true that Hotaru, for all her great resolve, has been susceptible to such suggestion. Searching his own heart, Alma must admit that she is vulnerable even to /his/ own powers; were it not so, he might not have been able to heal her so well, but neither would her enemy perhaps have been able to manipulate her. To think that she might be manipulated again-- it is not out of the question. And to accept him as her brother, while a beautiful sign of the trust and love between them and the bond they share--
"She seeks power?..."
--means that she has needs still left unfulfilled.
"...Hotaru..."
Where is her real brother? And what has his absence done to her? What does she fear, what has she yet failed to acheive, even when surrounded by her friends, even when giving a place in their team and a job helping others similarly in need of peers? Even Alma, with all his unconditional faith in her, cannot deny, upon reflection, that she might have succumbed...
"...I've failed her."
Those words are quiet, and not the words of a man wrapping himself up in his own grief or shame; they are quiet statement of fact, as he casts his gaze aside for the first time, his head bowed in thought and in recognition of his personal inability to prevent this.
"I still can't protect the ones I love, after all this..."
Hotaru... Jiro... father... mother...
"...but... even if I have to sacrifice everything..."
When Alma looks up again, his face is so serious as to be grim.
"I wouldn't be myself if I didn't aid her."
Straightening, he steps forward toward Oswald.
"So long as your goal is to save Hotaru from herself, we are allies."
Alma smiles slightly, a man's smile, and as he does, his clothes begin to ripple faintly around him, the light in his eyes returning to burn stronger than ever before, his body standing firm and tall.
"I'll show you my resolve..."
Now, Oswald, show him yours.
COMBATSYS: Alma gathers his will.
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Alma 1/-======/=======|=======\=------\1 Oswald
Allies. It's been a long, long time since Oswald has heard those words. Twenty years of being a loner - trusting no one - and suddenly out of nowhere he gains 'one'. It always starts with 'one'. Having lost everything that had value to him in the end of Ireland's expansive conflict a part of him had stayed behind. Maybe he regained a piece just now. Maybe, just maybe.
"I do not know where this 'Gato' is. But given what I have heard between informants and her compatriots, her brother would not much be bothered." He flinches a bit a the clothing ripples about Alma's body shaking his head once more - it was unnerving.
"Ally or not, Alma, don't play the martyr with me. You haven't failed yet, not until your last breath, not until the moment you drift into endless torpor." The knuckles grow white as his fingers squeeze in hard into fists, then relax as his whole body seems to draw in for a moment, "Let there be a mark for our sins, then."
His eyes close as his hands rest easy at his side, deck of trumps in one hand, and nothing in the other. Thumbing through cards without so much as moving more than his fingers, he stops on one... and gives a nod. "Alma. Do not betray me." The words are simple - a warning? A covenant? A simple request? Whatever the case may be, his form blurs with a brief pluse of dark mist, forming echoing shadowy images behind him as he comes in for a new assault, in haste...
COMBATSYS: Oswald successfully hits Alma with Joker'.
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Alma 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|===----\-------\0 Oswald
Alma wanted his best. Oswald does what he can to ensure he does not disappoint.
It's a blindingly, bewilderingly fast motion, in a split second the distance between Alma and Oswald is nil, hand at his throat as the world behind him shrinks in perspective.
The first harsh reality of the hold is the strike of the back of Alma's head to /something/, a huge stone-foundation high wooden Shinto Torii, enough to daze and buy him a moment he needs... The sound of steel piercing stone is the first new invasion of the senses, a single, loud *CHINK* as the Gambler's body leaps back in a surprisingly graceful somersault, a good ten feet away.
"May you be at rest."
A flurry, a veritable /torrent/ of blades draws in from thin air as Oswald's arms fly into a frenzy, the bladed cards of spaded suits fly in from all angles.
"Do not forget heaven's song!"
Still black now as the second seem to come in from below, ricocheting from the ground or even growing minds of their own to swoop down with the winds and arch up to his legs.
", do not forget that prayer."
Suits of crimson now, the diamonds cut like their name sakes, coming in from above as the cards are cast skyborne, swooping down like fell birds of prey...
"Do not forget yourself!"
Suits of the heart fill in the gaps on each side, splaying arms to the great arch that marks this holy territory, masking his approach now as the rain of blades is finished leaving deathly silence save the striking of the hard soles of his shoes on the stones....
His body turns again, much like the first battle, but this time his arm sweeps low to pick up that card first cast away - the Joker, bringing it up for a single, final cut to the body from low left to crown right, holding it up in the air before letting it loose, carried on the wind.
"I release you from your burdens."
A mark for our sins.
Alma felt fully prepared, his power rising up within him and profounding enhancing his awareness of the world around him-- but there was no way he could ever be prepared for what comes next. Neither his body nor his mind are quick enough to keep up with Oswald's magnificient technique, the cameras capturing what Alma himself can only experience as an agonizing blur. Still he hears every word, each ringing shout somehow all the clearer for that his other senses are completely overloaded and overwhelmed.
"Aaahnn--!"
Clothes shredding from the rain of blades, streaks of blood emerging from his taut frame, still Alma is frozen in place by the ceaseless barrage of attacks, each card in the deck slicing through him, each cut--
"...nnngghh..."
--a mark for his sins.
Alma slumps slowly to his knees, and collapses on the ground, as though a marionette whose strings have been cut, a shell that the soul has left behind. Here is his chance, now, to accept Oswald's gift: to be released from his burdens, and be at peace, far now from the suffering of life's incessant, inevitable chaos.
"...haven't..."
Yet still--
"...failed yet..."
--still he strives.
Alma rises, indomitable.
"...don't know... about you... but..."
He turns slowly, to meet the older man's eyes.
"...I'll never betray..."
And smiles.
"...myself."
Slowly, quietly, Alma raises his right hand, as though cupping an invisible orb, his eerie gaze never leaving Oswald's own-- and then snaps once, the sound echoing out to break the silence of the sacred forest.
The only warning before a geyser of sworling power explodes until Oswald's feet, pinks and purples twisting and consuming one another and aiming to batter Oswald himself within the raging storm of their wild abandon, the pure unbridled force of Alma's passion for life and the proof of his integrity, is the sudden flash in Alma's eyes.
COMBATSYS: Oswald reflects Full Confession from Alma with Four Suits.
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Alma 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Oswald
Was Oswald simply prepared? What was this moment of relaxation that befell him. Staring back into the eyes of the kneeling warrior as he brought that invisible orb to bear only to snap and build that geyser builds at the nexus of his feet?
"There is no sin between us, son." He says quietly as that snap overtakes all silence, as if his words could cut through that great moment on its own voilition, the cards that were thrown from before almost perfectly risen through the air from the building force. Waiting, waiting... until that undenyable force begins to split stone and cause his own clothing to rustle, then his arms give a very quick 'one-two' flick, whip like motions, two cards in each hand.
He almost looks for a second like some sort of mage casting a spell as he lets the cards splay out between his fingers as that sphere screams toward him, only to be completely lost somewhere in a vortex driven by the cards that form a north-south cross before him. "With this, I show you the strength of my spirit. As you wished it."
The cards are brought together as his palms come in too, neatly stacked as they suddenly shatter like glass, and the sphere manifests once more - though this time its master approaches...
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Oswald's Reflected Full Confession.
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Alma 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Oswald
Incredible.
An ultimate expression of Alma's power is turned against him, and the dazed young man can only watch as the attack is returned, Oswald's true mastery revealing itself once again. An explosion of dust erupts as, immediately after the older fighter's powerful decisive blow, yet another deadly strike is turned on the young warrior.
"...No sin..."
But when the dust clears, somehow, Alma is still standing.
"...I'm glad."
Those hazel eyes, before so clear and bright, are dull and dimmed now, yet when he smiles it is soft and peaceful, that of one unafraid of his fate.
"Thank you, Oswald, for showing me all this."
Even now, after all this, Alma's soul burns, its power channeling into his right hand, which he brings forward gracefully before him as though making an offering.
"I won't have any regrets..."
His offering, in this case, is a blast of white fire laced with bright colors that darts through the air, hungrily seeking out Oswald's body-- and his spirit.
"...and I'll give everything for those and that which I love."
COMBATSYS: Oswald blocks Alma's Sacred Wave.
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Alma 1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0 Oswald
No such trump cards left, Oswald braces in and turtles, arms coming up before him as his ankles anchor as best they can on the stone. His body weathers the hungry flames and raging torrent of energy, and though his place has shifted back a half foot, Oswald is still well and standing.
There were no more words he needed to speak for now as his legs uncoil from the semi crouch the wave had them take, launching him into the air, though not very high. A simple leap meant to bring him closer, the actual attack only taking place once he lands, as the leg uses the momentum from the jump and land to try and sweep Alma's legs from under him.... his clothes still smoking from the great wave unleased...
COMBATSYS: Oswald successfully hits Alma with Light Kick.
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Alma 1/--=====/=======|=------\-------\0 Oswald
Alma's peaceful smile does not fade, even as Oswald blocks the attack and lunges in-- indeed, after a moment, it becomes obvious that Alma doesn't seem to be actually looking at Oswald, that his gaze is directed somewhere completely different.
He's barely conscious.
There is thus no way he is dodging the attack; he doesn't even seem to see it coming. Wordlessly he falls as Oswald finishes what he started, legs swept out from under him... yet as he does, seemingly out of pure reflex, unaware of his own actions, he reaches out with his right hand. The movement is gentle, fluid, as of one suspended in water.
But if it can grasp hold of Oswald, even for a moment...
COMBATSYS: Alma can no longer fight.
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Oswald 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Oswald dodges Alma's Absolution.
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Oswald 0/-------/------=|
Beware grasping hands when that which is barely concious reach.
He had seen that motion from Hotaru, and just as Alma's arm was reaching out - even as he slowly, wistfully falls to the ground - Oswald's own instincts and reflexes react.
Sidestepping, the wrist of that right arm is grasped snug, the left arm slung quickly underneath Alma's shoulders just in the mere moments before his head would crack against the stones. No, he fought with everything he had, and gave Oswald exactly what he wished, not just a demonstration but an out right /experience/ of this power he possessed. There was no need to be ungentlemanly about this.
"Enough..." He speaks low and quiet, keeping that arm well clenched to prevent him from doing anything involountary for now, until his senses would trickle back in, "We've proven ourselves to each other. We have won, Alma." His body is gently laid down to the stones now, as the sound of the medics rushing up the stairs are heard. "I will leave you a way to find me - but I request we speak together first before you speak with the Futaba girl. I have much to bring you up to speed on - and I believe it will make you better prepared."
Half-knelt at his side, Oswald plucks a card from inside the semi-burned jacket, even the corner of the card is partially singed from weathering the great attacks, "You are a man of infinite potential. I am honored to have fought you this day." He places the card square on his chest than takes that hand that attempted that final grasp upon it, "Seek me out if you see it fit. And beware those that try to poison your spirit with hatred."
Rising now, Oswald casts a shadow over Alma, looking down and with a brief motion of his head, gives him a farewell nod. "Alma Towazu. I will remember that name until the day I die." And as the medics rush up the stairs, Oswald walks down and away...
COMBATSYS: Oswald has ended the fight here.
Log created on 01:39:07 03/25/2008 by Oswald, and last modified on 11:27:45 03/25/2008.