Thread: Matrix Spar: Oneironaut vs. No-Name (2)

His lips pursed slightly at the comment, his grin shifting to a playful smirk, accompanied by a subtle shrug of his shoulders as he cooly let the remark slide. "Maybe so. Perhaps, after I've beaten you, you can help me think of one." He almost chuckled to himself, but his eyes locked upon no-name, who was now rushing in like a freight train. Instead of taking to a stance, himself, he just stood there. It was obvious he was going to allow no-name to charge in, just to see how the man was going to fight this battle - feel him out for a bit. In these last few moments before impact, his eyes then darted about his surroundings, taking in a layout of the land. He looked for gaps between the trees that were larger than others, and checked for any stumps or other hazards that might hinder a run through the thicket. Closer and closer no-name got, and Oneironaut just stood there, hands down near his sides, finally curled into resolute fists - waiting for the initial attack.

To say the least, no-name was unsettled by Oneironaut's stance, or lack thereof!.

In order to refine his movements, he had to control himself, he had no idea what Oneironaut was going to pull. no-name slowed to a very brisk walk, disliking the situation more and more, he slowed down, and eventually stopped, standing less than 10 meters from Oneironaut, and with a furrowed brow, waited.

It was unlike no-name to wait, and he knew it. he was on his toes, jumpy. Knowing Oneironaut's resourcefulness, no-name knew his opponent would notice this and take advantage of it. In an attempt to hide his jittery state, no-name pulled a pair of dark shaded glasses from his pocket, and gingerly put them over his eyes, flattening his hair uncomfortably to his ears. And waited.

This time, Oneironaut did chuckle, the elevating of his cheeks clearly visible, beneath the veil of black cloth on his face. He thought it was classic, the way no-name came rushing in, gung ho, just before slowing to an obviously cautious halt.

"Not having second thoughts, are we?" Oneironaut's non-stance never changed. He seemed so utterly relaxed. Maybe under more dire circumstances, he would have been goaded into making the first move, but he remembered how he was more the aggressor in their last battle, and he wanted to see no-name play the offensive, for once. "You know, if you wanna just jack out now, I won't hold it against you. We'll call it a draw. I won't tell anyone." Again he chuckled, devilishly, taunting him with a sarcastic altruism.

no-name spat to the ground, 'bastard' he called out.

Not a single weapon on Oneironaut's side had been un-sheathed, and yet no-name was already losing. Angered with himself for being so obvious, he flicked the glasses he had just put on, letting them fall away into the lush dense forest.

Trying to clear his head, no-name backed up another 6 feet and sat down. He had to let Oneironaut make the first move. This was the only way he knew how to fight, even when he had rushed forward he was expecting some kind of counter measure, to which he would of course provide his own. This lack of movement had unseated no-name.

This was supposed to be a fight, a battle, a war. And in its own way, it was. only their mouths were the weapons, and brains the users.

Sitting on the green soft grass beneath him, no-name pulled his favorite past time from a pocket on his thigh. The ornate mirror he was holding was over a hundred years old, used at one point by the queens of england. no-name's vanity was more of a hinderance than an asset, but that didnt make it any less fun.

Staring at his own dark hair, seeing it sway methodically in the breeze, no-name calmed himself. One eye slightly bluer than the other, his green eyes peered into each other through the mirror. He saw a face not rugged, but not a pretty face. Shaking his hair slowly left to right with the wind, no-name smiled and breathed out heavily.

In his own state of zen, no-name tuned himself to nature, letting his ears and fingers see for him. Letting him almost hear Oneironaut's smirking breathing, ready to spring up with his heightened senses. no-name stuffed away his mirror and once again, waited.

Again, he laughed - not necessarily arrogantly, but as if genuinely enjoying no-name's reactions to the situation. "Oh, come on..." He chuckled through his words and slowly began walking forward, lightly, not particularly trying to hide his footsteps, but simply stressing an unthreatening pace; still a good 15 yards from him. "You're not really going to make me chase you all over the digital world, are you? You're going to have to put some pressure on me some time, ya know."

Smirking, he stopped a little less than 5 yards from him - a position to where a good forward dash could bring one quickly within striking distance. His hands never left his sides, fingers having now completely relaxed. They hung lifeless beside him - harmless, at first glance. Oneironaut's eyes kept an indirect lock on the knife in no-name's hand, knowing that it could easily come flying his way, in the passing seconds.

"I can be just as patient as you. Hell, as far as I'm concerned, we can sit here all day and meditate. I'm cool with that, too...but I figured you called me here to fight." The smirk transformed into a grin, egging him on. Oneironaut took a few nonchalant steps to the left, drawing his arms up and crossing them over his chest. Seeming to drop all stance, he shifted his left shoulder and leaned back against one of the thin bamboo trees behind him. He stood, propped at an angle, gazing lazily down at no-name.

"If I knew we were just going to be out here enjoying nature...I'd have brought a joint with me."

Calmly ignoring Oneironaut's taunting, no-name slowly got up, fingers as relaxed as his opponents. His mind cleared, emptied of un-needed thoughts, no-name was finally ready to fight.

His knife floating loosely in his grasp, no-name shook the hair away from his eyes and stared down Oneironaut with what he hoped was a smile.

With the speed of someone working on instinct, no-name swung his knife to the left, letting its blade connect with and slice through the trunk of a firm young bamboo stalk. With his opposite hand grabbing said stalk, and hurling it like a javelin at Oneironaut. It was quickly followed by a razor edged knife behind it, no-name immeaditly re-armed himself with two more identical knives, and bounced forward, now with a mindset about defense and counter measures

Uttering a single word, its sole consonant floating through the leaves with a darker malice than the trees could ever dream of, no-name began the fight.

"Now."

Aha. That's more like it.

The words were no more than thoughts, the only hint of their existence being the expanding grin on his face - hidden beneath the black ninja mask. Watching no-name stand up, his mind began racing, keeping an analytical pace while observing his opponent's gestures. Still, his left shoulder blade leaned back upon the bamboo stalk behind him - the picture of nonchalance. But, on the inside, the gears had begun turning. He knew things were finally about to take off.

In one strong sweep of no-name's hand, Oneironaut now had a large shard of bamboo flying in his direction. The contented grin stretched further, growing much more mischievous with the lowering of his eyebrows. His body wheeled around to the right, rotating himself around behind the stalk that he'd been leaning against just as the stalk no-name threw came whizzing right passed him. Completing the rotation, he found himself on the opposite side of the vertical stalk as he had been, rushing straight toward no-name, whose follow-up knife went the way of the bamboo javelin; missing the oncoming Oneironaut. The passing blade stabbing into the thin tree he had been leaning against earlier.

The wind practically screamed in his ears, during his dash toward no-name. He was satisfied, for the most part, and didn't really care whether or not no-named planned to take the offensive - or just defend - from here on out. All he wanted was for him to at least get things rolling. Crossing the short distance in very few seconds, Oneironaut reached his right hand up over his shoulder, flicking the hilt strap off of the short, black sword with his thumb. His left forearm was raised in front of his eyes, guiding him on his quick path toward his adversary, right hand zig-zagging down in front of him then coming to rest with a reverse grip on his weapon. Blade angled at the floor, he crossed in front of no-name instead of running directly to him. He took a bounding step, planting the ball of his booted foot down upon the surface of a strong stalk off to no-name's left, maybe seven feet from the ground, and then ricocheted off into no-name's direction. Coming toward his forward left side, Oneironaut led with the sole of a boot, aiming a missile of a flying kick high at no-name's left cheek. His blade, however, remained at his front, ready to defend.