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

The wind swirled in periodically, streaming through the obstacle course of tall bamboo trees which surrounded the two fighters. On each passing breeze, droves of dead, Autumn leaves would cascade in between the figures standing across from each other. There was just barely enough room between the trees to be able to manuever during the fight, but it would have to prove sufficient. This will either be a very close-quarters battle, or a long range battle which must be played around scores of thin bamboo shafts. Whatever the case, it should prove challenging for both.

Oneironaut stood with his feet - bound in Tabi ninja boots - about shoulder length apart. The rest of his black dogi hung loosely around body, yet tucked securely into the tops of shin and forearm guards. The only things that were showing were his hands - wrapped in black, fingerless gloves - and his head, wearing a black face-wrap that covered his jaw and bridge of his nose only, leaving the eyes and top of his bald head exposed.

Dark brown eyes stared forward at No-Name, his fingers curling inward and outward, pulsing, repeatedly cracking the joints of his knuckles until the sound completely disappeared and his fingers hung relaxed. Above each shoulder, two un-identical sword hilts were visible. One sword was a black and red katana, a red sash coiled down the length of the hilt, and hanging on it's own, to about six inches from the butt. The other sword was much shorter. A tactical weapon. The handle had a cut running vertically along its length, separating one side of the hilt from the other. One his forearms, the guards which kept his body safe also served another purpose. They held an array of shuriken in individual slots. They were all various shapes and designs, but more or less uniform because they were mostly hidden beneath the black fabric slots. With six on each arm, that allowed him safe carriage of twelve deadly throwing weapons, which - with a little precision - could prove to be an extreme asset in this battle.

Giving a slight grin, hidden beneath the black fabric over his face, he called out to No-Name over the soft howl of an passing crosswind, "You ready?"

It was an understatement, but no-name was dressed lightly for the looming battle that lay ahead.

Checking his surroundings, he found it quite surreal how out of place he looked, though every day in the matrix he found the day itself to be more and more un-realistic. It reminded no-name of an anime, with the leaves themselves wanting to play a part in the dramatic battle.

The breeze he found delightful, as it whipped his thick curly hair around his ears and neck, he quite enjoyed this, and reminded himself to sit in a tree and relax once this fight was over. he was wearing a very light and baggy green hoodie that read "celldweller" accross the front, a matching but darker green pair of sweatpants laced his bottom half. Mismatchedly stitched to them were bright blue patches of jean-like material, forming make-shift pockets. Bright red converses on his feet (with a certain steel edged playing card tucked away in the back) and a cat-girl knife in his hands, no-name called back:
"You need to find a better taunt line, O." he said while mocking the winking cat-girl on his knife. "this one is getting a bit old."

He fell down into a low running stance, and bullrushed O as fast he could. he whispered to himself, as quietly as the leaves falling from he trees. "I will NOT lose."

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.