Setting:
Spoiler (Click to Show)
In addition, Aiman's elemental powers are augmented in this place. He has a seemingly bottomless amount of mana and cannot tire at all when using his elements. However, the singularity of this realm has caused his elements to shuffle and he CANNOT use every element willingly. Everytime the sun rises and sets ONLY ONE element is usable for him. It rotates in this order: Nature, Ice, Fire, Water, Electric, Earth, Wind. Dark and Trance are blocked in this realm and he may not use them.[/spoiler]
Handicap: Aiman's mana does not run out and his elements are augmented at the expense of him not being able to control the order in which they appear. Certain OP elements of his are also locked out for the duration of the round.
Antes :
***Antes are Extra Challenges that add twice the points wagered if successfully pulled off. They come in 3 Flavors (Easy Medium Hard). No two participants can have the same kind of Ante.
_Ai_ has initiated an Easy Ante: A planetary wobble has caused the garden to remain in stasis for a "day". Aiman must win with only 2 of his 7 elements. He can pick which one to start with, but the 2nd one must always be the subsequent one in the pattern. (You can pick Fire then Water but not Fire then Electric)
The Strongest has initiated a Medium Ante: You must showcase every one of Aiman's 7 available elements (in order, mind you) before you can finish the battle. You may start with any element for as long as the sequence is followed.
Bonus for this Round: Early Bird / First to Post their entry
Scoring:
- Votes are worth 5 pts. each.
- CNC-ing an entry gives you 10 pts. Detailed ones get an extra 5 pts. Maximum 3 CnCs per participant.
- Bonus for the Round is 20 pts.
- Fulfilled Antes give 10, 20, 30 pts. and lost 5, 10, 15 pts if failed depending on difficulty
- Judge's Blessing gives 15 points if entry caught the Judge's eye.
Here are the entries:
Walden[spoiler=The Strongest's Entry]Introduce the Challenger
”Congratulations newcomers and latecomers alike! You have just pledged your entrance fee of...your lives!”
Two simple sentences were all it took to fill Walden with a sense of great and terrible anger. The remainder of his pack reacted in similar fashion, sensing Walden's unspoken demand to find and kill the betrayer. But without any reliable means of doing such, the best Walden could content himself with was the howl of the wolves that had not been consumed to keep up his strength. That sound of unbridled rage resonated with something deep within his own soul, and an all-too-familiar red fog began to form before his eyes. And then there was blackness, as he was whisked away by the magic of science.
How long was it that he was left in that blackness, transiting between dimensions like a supernatural commuter? Even the spirit world had more life than this void. Of course, Walden didn't know what was occurring. Instead, he believed himself to be dead. Killed by a traitor's cowardice. The thought was infuriating, yet the recognition that this was the end dulled all feelings of malevolence. What was the point, a little voice from his heart whispered to his soul, now that he was consigned to the same fate as all who would lose their lives? There was no point in anger, now that the Reaper had finally come for Walden.
Speaking of the Reaper, where was he? In fact, the distinct lack of an ominous figure there to claim his eternal soul was not the only thing that was throwing Walden through a loop...something else was off.
Walden sniffed.
The stench of death was nowhere to be found. No, instead, the only thing that Walden could smell was...grass? It was then that Walden felt a rush of other sensations. There was the grass, yes, but this time it was brushing against his skin. A sense of touch...yes, Walden had it, but it seemed that his sense of sight was lo--
No, that wasn't it at all. Walden opened his eyes, and squinted against the sun as it was about noon-time, there in the Imperial Garden.
“This...is not as I recall the spirit plane.” Walden said, speaking the words aloud more to confirm that he did indeed have his sense of hearing. As if that last sense would prove to be the final piece in this complex mess of a puzzle he was beginning to find himself in. Much to his chagrin, it didn't. No, instead it left him feeling even more confused. Had he, Walden, not just been smote? Was this not, in fact, an afterlife?
Walden's mind reeled, attempting to rationalize the situation.
Perhaps it had something to do with his regular communion with spirits. Or his domination of twelve of them. Perhaps it had something to do with what happened when he felt himself consumed by rage. Was the spirit world afraid of him? Or did it look down on him, now. Maybe he had been exiled from it, left in this pocket dimension to be forgotten by both realms. Hmph. Walden looked around the garden. It was peaceful, but plain. It was not a fitting afterlife, he felt. No, it was far more likely that he would go mad from boredom than be able to wait out the end of eternity in contentment.
Walden stood up, feeling somehow rejuvenated. As if he hadn't been fighting in a warehouse moments ago. As a matter of fact, Walden had no idea how much time had passed. He pulled a pocketwatch from his coat, and looked down at the white surface. Simple, metal hands ticked about the simple numerals, revealing something odd. He had been in the warehouse, fighting, for twenty minutes at the most. Yet as he looked up at the sky again, the sun had progressed quite a distance. In fact, as Walden tried to stare at the sun through his fingers, he could make out a very definite progression through the sky. Already, the canopy to this scene was beginning to transform, from a clear blue to a magnificent display of reds and oranges and purples. It quickly became too much for him to handle, but glancing away did little, as already it seemed that night was beginning to fall, and at an alarming rate.
Walden quickened his pace, heading towards the one landmark he could distinguish in this plane. A large tree. As he drew closer to the massive piece of nature's architecture, Walden came to readjust his assessment of the tree's size. It wasn't just large, it was huge. Easily, Walden imagined, one could make a home inside that living tower. For that reason, Walden was disappointed with what he actually found inside the tower.
Rather than the quaint set of wooden furniture, and a little fireplace, that he had been expecting, the tree was hollow. And that was all, at least at that level. It also wasn't hollowed all the way up, instead it appeared to be a rather complicated maze of crawlspaces, ledges, and suspiciously well-made bridges. More suspicious than the bridges, however, was the river located within the tree, which divided it into two distinct regions, regions that were too precisely divided. This was not entirely nature's doing. So where were the ones who had lent a hand to this place? Not a soul was there to be seen. Or so it seemed.
Introduce the Opponent
In truth, there was one other inhabitant in this plane. A youthful looking young man, dressed all in black, with hair just as black. He was high above Walden, at the top of the tree, where it cleared into an impressive view of the Imperial Garden. Up there, in fact, it seemed as if some kind of a fighting ground had been prepared. An impressive platform had been constructed, near the top of the tree, with a single, large hole in the center, an opening leading down to the Yin-Yang symbol below. The platform had been used as a sparring ground, it seemed, and it was well stocked for the occasion.
In fact, it was just as it had once been. Whatever force kept this realm stable, it affected even the supplies. Forming eight points of star was gear useful for training one in elemental powers. They would not offer Aiman any significant advantage, beyond a homefield advantage. Memories of five years of training, here, came flooding back to him. With the flood of memories came the flood of tears, as Aiman's trip through memory lane ended with the final imprint of his masters' sacrifice.
Far, far below, the wracking sobs attracted Walden's attention. The tree, it seemed, would not be too hard for an old man to climb, and so that's just what he started to do. Well, Walden's optimistic guess proved to be more optimistic than honest, and by the time he was a quarter of the way up the tree, it seemed that the sobs had ceased. Nothing bad had happened, no, Aiman had simply gotten over the sight, and he had more than enough time to compose himself, while paying his respects to their memory.
Further up, further, and finally Walden emerged onto the platform, taking in the sights. He had never seen anything quite like it before. It reminded him of what he expected a dojo to look like, but not for any particular martial art. Instead, it was as if some sort of naturalist had purchased a dojo and just set up shop. Some major, easily recognizable elements were there. A bowl of some sort of burning material, perhaps oil; a bowl of water; a bowl that seemed to have been filled with rocks and dirt; a bowl of water, somehow frozen; a bowl that seemed to have been used a grower for some sort of alien fruit-bearing vines; a bowl that didn't seem to contain anything in particular; a bowl that wasn't so much holding anything as emitting the occasional harmless spark of electricity; and a bowl that Walden couldn't see into, instead seeing a point of blackness that did not make much sense in the otherwise well-lit room. And so it was, that Walden began to get an idea of where he was. Not a place to be cast away to die, but perhaps a place where one was sent to grow stronger. It certainly had everything a person would need to prevent oneself from going insane with boredom, or from becoming deceased.
Well, then, if this weren't the afterlife, just manner of place was it? Another moment's consideration lead to a conclusion. That youth, there, looked familiar. Yes, there was little doubt about it, he recognized that one from the warehouse. Which clearly meant...
“The tournament has begun.”
Walden was dumbstruck for a moment. The youth had taken the words right from his mouth. Of course, he seemed an intelligent lad, so it didn't seem so far off the mark that he would have come to the same conclusion. Still, he was surprised by the exact wording of his own thoughts being stated.
The sun hadn't been up for long, but already it seemed the world was getting dark again. How odd.
“My name is Walden. It is a pleasure to meet you...” Walden began. He left a pause, indicating a request that the youth give his own name.
“Aiman.” Walden's opponent answered. Although Walden was sure that they were the only two in the place, the black-haired gladiator didn't have a trace of the sorrow that Walden was sure he'd heard in him during his ascent.
“Well, Aiman, like I said, it's a pleasure to meet you. Shall we establish the rules of engagement now, then? First off, any shooting will be done to the front. I think we can both agree that a shot to the back takes away quite a bit from the experience, no?”
Aiman nodded.
“Alright. Second, I don't believe that this should be a fight to the death. I've seen enough bloodshed for one day, I think.”
This time, Aiman's nod was mixed with a grimace. Walden had a good feeling about this young man. He, at least, hadn't been slaughtering the thugs like cattle. Hadn't he mentioned the blunt edge, too, when he had been swinging that greatsword around?
“Thirdly, I believe that we should both declare our abilities straight off. I apologize if this seems forward, but I would like to start off on as even ground as I can with you. You need not go into specific details, but I hope you will give me an accurate reckoning of your power level.”
“My power level?” Aiman asked, a mischievous grin on his face, “Well, since you don't seem to have the benefit of a scouter, I'll just tell you right now, it's a little over...nine-thousand.”
Walden's look of confusion must have egged Aiman on further, because the black-clad youth burst out laughing at his own joke.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just kidding. I'm an elemental mage. You see these bowls around you? I can control each of the elements represented there. Nature, ice, fire water, electric, earth, wind, dark, and what I like to call trance.” Aiman pointed to each of the respective bowls, but for the last one he pointed to himself, there not being any representation of the “Trance” element present besides himself.
“So, what're ya going to be throwing at me?”
Walden considered Aiman's question for a moment before answering, “I control a pack of wolves from the spirit world. I can use them to attack you, or to improve my own body. If you try my patience too much by breaking the rules of engagement, my wolves will give me the power to tear you apart, and I won't be able to stop myself from taking advantage of that offer.”
The threat that Walden left off with had no effect on Aiman, it seemed. Instead, the black-on-black mage cracked a grin and a joke, “Well, you're a regular Hulk, aren't you?”
The joke went over Walden's head, and again he found Aiman laughing at his own joke. It wasn't the kind of laughter that one would find grating, though. Instead, Walden thought it endearing. Yes, he felt very good about his opponent.
“Alright, then. Now that we know each other's powers, I think that now is a suitable time to begin. Prepare yourself, Aiman! I have calculated your strength and will you fight you to the utmost at its level!”
FIGHT!
With a flourish, Walden threw his jacket backwards, a tear appearing in the air, and several of Walden's spectral wolves leaped through, howling at moon that was already rising to replace the sun. With a wave of his hand, and a command of “To me!”, all but one of the wolves disintegrated, the particles of their corpus seemingly inhaled by Walden. He sighed a sigh of satisfaction and looked up to see Aiman, with light electric currents running along his body and a look of confusion on his face.
...is delayed.
“Hey, that was really cool and all, but can you hold on for a moment? Something's not right. My powers are all wonky.” Aiman apologized, giving a sheepish smile and letting the lightning dissipate. Then he took a stance that looked like something from an anime...and sparks flew, again.
“This isn't right.” the mage complained, waving the spear that he had conjured around himself as if to further emphasize the point. “I wanted my greatsword. What's with this place? It's not at all like how I remembered it. It's like it's in charge of what I can and can't use...and that's everything besides the one thing that I can use. Such a pain.”
“Do you want a few moments?” Walden inquired, his hand was still on the head of his cane, he'd been just about to draw his blade to complete his pre-fight ritual, but now suddenly didn't seem like quite the best time.
“Yeah that'd be great.” Aiman responded, appreciation in his voice.
Aiman stood there, trying to tap into his power over fire again and again to no avail. No, instead he would be rewarded for his efforts with sparks. He spent the whole night doing that. All ten minutes of it, as Walden's watch claimed. The aging gladiator had decided to keep an eye on how time progressed in this place, and was rather surprised, though it made more p