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Post by Dion on Aug 8, 2022 3:09:46 GMT -5
Dion grunted in both affirmation and frustration at Fark's continued need to try and help his dear friend out of a rut that he wasn't particularly looking to be out of quite yet. As dangerous and volatile his Ki was at the moment, with Celeste's help still being on the table for use, it could still very well be the young man's ticket toward what he had come to covet so dearly since his very childhood- and that, of course, was power. The power to finally defy fate and grasp within his grip what he had been aching for since he was able to understand the concept of it-
And that, was happiness. Throughout Dion's life, every shot at happiness had been halted by his inherently weak constitution, and with this corruption came an opportunity to break the cycle once and for all. Yes, the, means by which he threatened to do so were, suspect in nature- but every other more traditional path taken in the past bore no fruit for him to take advantage of, so he was running out of patience and avenues.
Which was why the witch's help proved invaluable, and why even now he continued to deal with her ridiculous antics in the form of her pitting friend against friend. It wasn't like he was worried about hurting Fark or vice versa, the two men both seemed to be much stronger than either of them had let on in their first meeting. But just the principle of putting pal against pal in a mock fight to the death felt, wrong, to Dion.
Or at least, it would have, were it not for the mental mind bending his magical malefactor continued to do on his brain. To corrupt Dion, this was nothing but a momentary hurdle to hurl himself over, and something he was sure Fark would come to understand later on with proper exposition.
Though, that was something he wasn't getting anytime soon it seemed, as Fark continued his forceful flurry at Dion with untiring vigor. He needed something to knock him down a peg, and thus, as he approached, the battling bartender would oddly enough choose to sheath his blade, and await his opponent's attack head on.
Considering he wasn't planning on doing anything anyways, Fark's attempt at a fake out would mean next to nothing, as Dion would appear to tank the kick to the body head on, with little consequence- besides a bit of torn up clothing, anyways.
Feeling nothing but a slight tinge of pain, Dion would stare Fark down with a continuously serious face (despite wanting somewhat to smirk at him expectantly), stating aloud, "Naught but an itch."
With dominance being properly established, the show offy swordsman would then go on to try and Kiai the opposing man away, awaiting his next move with a self assured expression upon his brow.
And that, was happiness. Throughout Dion's life, every shot at happiness had been halted by his inherently weak constitution, and with this corruption came an opportunity to break the cycle once and for all. Yes, the, means by which he threatened to do so were, suspect in nature- but every other more traditional path taken in the past bore no fruit for him to take advantage of, so he was running out of patience and avenues.
Which was why the witch's help proved invaluable, and why even now he continued to deal with her ridiculous antics in the form of her pitting friend against friend. It wasn't like he was worried about hurting Fark or vice versa, the two men both seemed to be much stronger than either of them had let on in their first meeting. But just the principle of putting pal against pal in a mock fight to the death felt, wrong, to Dion.
Or at least, it would have, were it not for the mental mind bending his magical malefactor continued to do on his brain. To corrupt Dion, this was nothing but a momentary hurdle to hurl himself over, and something he was sure Fark would come to understand later on with proper exposition.
Though, that was something he wasn't getting anytime soon it seemed, as Fark continued his forceful flurry at Dion with untiring vigor. He needed something to knock him down a peg, and thus, as he approached, the battling bartender would oddly enough choose to sheath his blade, and await his opponent's attack head on.
Considering he wasn't planning on doing anything anyways, Fark's attempt at a fake out would mean next to nothing, as Dion would appear to tank the kick to the body head on, with little consequence- besides a bit of torn up clothing, anyways.
Feeling nothing but a slight tinge of pain, Dion would stare Fark down with a continuously serious face (despite wanting somewhat to smirk at him expectantly), stating aloud, "Naught but an itch."
With dominance being properly established, the show offy swordsman would then go on to try and Kiai the opposing man away, awaiting his next move with a self assured expression upon his brow.
PL: 22,000 - KP: 1/6 (-4 for tech usage) - MP: 4/6 (+1 for post, +1 for tech usage) - Damage Level: 25/250% - Stalwart Stone Wall (Medium Sustained Defense) used for a defensive PL of 11,000 - 11,000 < 12,600 = 1,600 damage bleedthrough.
