Bloodshot
Member
Posts: 311
Affiliation: Chaos and credits, baby.
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Post by Bloodshot on Aug 10, 2015 19:13:41 GMT -8
Unarmed and force use only. No armor.
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Post by Galen on Aug 10, 2015 19:39:47 GMT -8
Weapons:
-Martial Arts
Force Abilities:
-Force Sense
-Telekinesis
-Tutaminis
The rain hammered down upon him as he stood in the center of the courtyard, pelting his exposed chest and arms with an unrelenting torrent of freezing drops, and soaking through the loose pants he wore. He ignored the stinging of the downpour just as he did the cold, opting instead to pay more attention to his warm up routine. He knew the sith he sought would be here, and knew he would be unarmed, though he could not have said why these visions and their knowledge had been granted to him. His mind reached out as his body began to move, stretching and preparing the muscle even as his will took hold of a dozen of the stones that surrounded him, drawing them up from their resting place on the earth as he moved through his kata. The stones spun and twirled as his body danced in tune to a rhythm only he could hear, and it wasn't long before he once again grew still and the stones returned to their resting places.
His breathing was still even and his mind now focused and clear as he settled in to wait, placing his feet at shoulder width and allowing his hands to fall to his sides. It was never a good idea to forego one's warm up exercises, especially when one's opponent was to be a sith of such caliber. The difficulty, however, often came in not knowing when your enemy would arrive, which could leave you growing cold again before the fight actually began. Galen, on the other hand had different fingers, and the distinct advantage of foresight. Unless he very much missed his guess, his opponent would not be dallying for long. In fact, I believe he is already here...
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Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase
Retired High Councilor 
Posts: 749 
Affiliation: To only a meager few, his motives are his own.
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase on Aug 10, 2015 20:55:16 GMT -8
Weapons:
-Martial Arts
Force Abilities:
-Telekinesis
-Tutaminis
-Alter Environment
"Ah, you're here," came the melodic voice of a cloaked figure from the recesses of the ruined edifice, from a forgotten age. Had he been here all along, watching, planning, who was to know? Jud lowered his cowl and revealed the grinning face of a corpse. "I'm to understand that this is a very personal fight?" Jud asked, already knowing the answer as he unclasped the flame emblemmed broach of his cloak; allowing the rain ladenned fabric to flop to the ground with a soggy thud.
The Sith was bare from the waist up. His tunic-style pants and tabi-like boots the only garments on him. His ancient emaciated form seemed crisscrossed by foul Sith enchantments and embedded alchemic amulets; as the man - if he could be called that - flexed his upper body with a series of audible pops. "So, hand to hand?" He spoke. "how intimate," Jud smirked, hopping slightly back and forth, getting himself limbered up. "I'll give you props for the location," The Sith spoke, looking around at the place he knew well before its fall. "It's sentimental..." He managed before locking his eye on his opponent with a smile.
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Post by Galen on Aug 11, 2015 6:31:32 GMT -8
The Miraluka watched his opponent as he stepped from the shadows, though in truth he could no more see the shadows than he could the color of the man's cloak. He could, however, perceive the state of the other man's body, and it was in stark contrast to his own. Where he had spent great amounts of time and effort forging his body into a weapon, forcing it to endure the harshest environments he could find and perform feats that would stagger a mortal man, the body before him was ravaged by time and decay, a corpse in all but function. Rather than think him weak because of it, however, he began to wonder what level of power must be necessary to maintain a body in such a state, and nearly grinned at the answer he felt from the mummy. It had been a long time since he'd been forced to push his limits outside of training, and he had little doubt this opponent was capable of making him do so again.
"You talk as if this was my choice!" He gestured to indicate the courtyard toppling around them. "It was not. This is simply where we have always met." Surely one who had lived for so long and seen so much could understand that. "As for the choice of weapons, well... it seemed appropriate." He made no move to attack the old man, instead sliding his right foot back and raising his hands to a combative posture, angling his body and tucking his chin as he prepared for the fight to come. He held his left hand outstretched and his right just in front of his chin, both palms open and facing his opponent. "Shall we begin?"
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Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 749
Affiliation: To only a meager few, his motives are his own.
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase on Aug 11, 2015 11:20:08 GMT -8
Jud gave the man an inquisitive look before pondering his words with an approving nod. "Miralukains have always fascinated me with their insight." The pun was intentional, but so was the praise. "The last Miralukian I knew went by the name of Tandassii, and much like you; he was strong in body and mind." The Old Sith closed the distance slowly and ever so slightly as he spoke. A little misdirection always went a long way, and he so did like baiting his prey. He was getting that giddy feeling, the excitement of being able to play again; it had been too long. Should I make it fast or slow - he thought to himself as he edged ever closer.
"I'll admit," Jud started, grinning maniacally. "It's a nice change of pace from the norm. A duel here, a Force crush there; it becomes tiresome. So, I appreciate the act of allowing me to pulp your face."
"Oh yes, by all means," Jud replied, watching his opponent take up his fighting stance - yet unlike him, Jud continued to walk forward. Hunkering down was never a good strategy, no, one had to be in constant motion. To stay still is to die.
As Jud crossed the threshold of social space (just over a meter) to personal space (just out of arm's length/reach) he erupted into motion, his left leg leading with a vicious sidekick towards the man's leading knee (left). It was a simple yet decisive strike, but testing the waters had to be done.
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Post by Galen on Aug 12, 2015 19:54:28 GMT -8
He felt more than saw his opponent move, awareness flickering on the edge of his perception, a whisper to move even before his mind registered the threat. His body itself began to shift before his mind had fully commanded it where to go, such was the state of his connection to the force. That was the difficulty in attempting to kill a Miraluka. It wasn't that they were more hardy or stronger or more intelligent than a human (though Galen certainly trained hard enough to be all three), it was that their perceptions were so perfectly in tune with their physical bodies that very often, no conscious thought was required in order to evade an attacker. In more functional terms, Galen himself possessed an effective reaction time very near to zero, which had the habit of putting him at a distinct advantage in close combat situations.
He sincerely hoped his opponent had the skill and power to render that advantage moot.
So it was that Galen's feet shifted, left hopping back and right hopping forward as his stance switched, then his left foot rocketed forward to drive toward the other man's abdomen just as his leg kick would have reached its target, had that target not been used to counter with a kick of its own.
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Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase
Retired High Councilor
Posts: 749
Affiliation: To only a meager few, his motives are his own.
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Lord Jud'dayus: The Debase on Aug 15, 2015 20:14:05 GMT -8
So, it wasn't a changing stance, or a slide...but a rather swift and sudden hopping from foot to foot - much like that of a boxer doing fancy footwork to confuse an opponent. Well, that made sense. That could be understood and countered; even at this point with Jud's mid-kicking left leg.
The Miralukian's Left leg came up for his midsection perfectly. Jud's left leg came around, planting his foot down firmly, thus his momentum allowing him to square off towards the man's strike, his legs shoulder width apart. Jud took the kick head on, deadening the blow by giving the strike more surface area to distribute over; thus taking away its' kinetic bite a bit; but still hurting.
"No matter..." The Sith said aloud unconsciously, the pain only helping to fuel his body to greater feats.
As soon as the kick landed Jud's right arm wrapped around just above the ankle on his opponent's leg like a boa constrictor's coils - he held it tightly against his body. His left elbow was already in motion to strike down on the man's knee with such force that it could destroy the joint utterly. As the elbow hammered down Jud's back foot (right) half-stepped forward, giving him the momentum he needed to launch his front knee (left) to drive into the man's groin. With his momentum going forward the Miralukian's balance would be compromised, seeing as the Old Sith's vice-grip on his opponent's useless leg allowed him excellent leverage, plus the after effects of a knee to the groin... unless his opponent was a eunuch?
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Post by Galen on Aug 17, 2015 6:56:43 GMT -8
Too many things at once, my friend. Rather than focusing his skill on performing each singular attack to its fullest, his opponent seemed intent of overwhelming Galen with as many attacks as he could manage at once, and while the leg grab was to be commended, he should have chosen a single attack and stuck with it, rather than putting himself off-balance and out of position.
The moment the grab began to take place, Galen was already in motion, twisting his torso to face away from his opponent, and rotating his leg along with it until his knee faced the ground. His right foot hopped forward as his opponent's did roughly the same, maintaining the distance he sought to close, and he bent the knee away from the elbow strike while simultaneously jerking his foot toward himself in order to dislodge it. Even with the grip his opponent had on the leg, the escape had an exceedingly high chance of success, though Galen doubted he would be able to avoid the elbow strike entirely, and an elbow to the back of the knee was still no laughing matter.
True to his thoughts, the foot slipped free, if only just, and the elbow struck the back of his knee, and though it had lost much of its power in both the extra distance it had to travel and the motion of the joint away from the strike, it still had a heckuva sting to it. Simultaneous to all this, Galen drove his left fist forward, away from both himself and his opponent, apparently striking hard at nothing but air. Appearances were deceiving, however, and the strike was actually being projected back, driving toward his opponent's sole point of support as his left leg rose in a knee strike. The goal of the projected blow was to strike the back of the other man's right knee, driving it out from under him and rendering the knee strike entirely powerless as he collapsed back to the ground and Galen spun to regain his proper footing and face the man once more.
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