DW Tournament : Archon Jon vs Andrews 'Tarin' Tarinson

Clouds billowed over the horizon, as if the world just ended there. In a world of their own perceptions, it did. The island of their battle was set, the pair destined to fight as if some cosmic force was compelling them. There would be no death, only the triumph of victory and the bitter salt of defeat for purposes far beyond any of the combatants.

Archon sailed to the scene, standing on a small pile of flotsam slowly floating through the sea. The figure resembled a martial art teacher of some sort, clad in bluish indigo dojo clothes, his arms crossed with a blade at his side. He waited for the flotsam to hit the sand before walking off it, turning towards his opponent.

He wasn't impressed by what he saw.

"I imagine this'll be over shortly." He grinned at his opponent, drawing the blade as the clouds started to back away from the horizon, darkening by the second.

Andrew 'Tarin' Tarinson glared grumpily at his surroundings before finally concluding inan aged yet tough voice; "I hate this place." He wore ragged clothes, constisting of a shirt, some trousers, a pair of boots, and a tatty old waist coat, had bronzed skin with the occasional pinkish scar, a face as if it was made of stone and chin bristle, and thin, short, white, hair drooping all around his head. He then noticed his oppenent, and imedietly made a dash for him, at a speed rarely seen among most elderly men. "All right let's get this over with, I wana see if the next round is gonna be in a nicer place than this dump." Tarin grumbled, pulling back his arm for a straight forward punch.

Archon cocked his eyebrow. "Place looks rather nice to me." Then he witnessed the man charge at him, gunning for a simple punch. "Really, now?" His eyes started to close as the angry pensioner neared him, ending the charge with a punch.

Archon carelessly sidestepped the attack to the right, not bothering to properly open his eyes before doing do. However, he was now by the side of the man, facing him. He brought his sword above his head, cutting down at his shoulder blades. "Are you truly this weak?"

"Shut up brat! You should respect ya elders, especially if they know several way to kick ya ass from this postion!" Tarin grumbled, before lifting the foot closest to Archon, and attempting to side stomp at his stomache, while elbowing back to try and push the sword away from himself. "Children and amatures should stick to stones!" He gloated, believing he has the upper hand.

"So many years, so little skill..." Archon mused as his hand directed the foot to the side. He decided to go with the momentum of the elbow, sleekly sliding backwards as he settled into something resembling a fencing position. He glanced at the skies. The storm was gathering. This man was going down soon enough.

"Flow of the Wind.." The tiniest movement of his feet sent him sliding towards his opponent, not really stepping, but simply sliding upon the sand. His blade lashed out diagonally at the man's neck, automatically flowing back into a defensive position without even slowing down.

Andrew fell back in suprise at the sudden attack, narrowly managing to avoid the sword slash that would of decapitated him. "Bloomin heck he's quick! Better take him out and quick!" Tarin babbled to himself, before quickly getting back on his feet and then suddenly started to move lighter on his toes, and practised a few punches as if he was an amature boxer, and quickly struck at Archon with a series of jabs, hooks, and uppercuts.

Archon slid sideways as he allowed his sword to swing to his side with his left hand free. His left hand swung lazily, but incredibly precisely to null the impact of the blows. As the first one hit his hand, his masterful technique propelled it in the path of the second attack the old man providing the force to block his own attacks.

Then, as the attack started to waver down, Archon moved abruptly, moving slightly back and to the side from the old man as his sword hand swung to cut him in the ribs with a wide cleaving blow.

After Tarins onslaught stopped, he barely managed to register the blade heading to his ribs, but luckily he ducked down and pushed the the blade upwards with the palms of his hands on the flat side, making it only graze him slightly on the top of his head, as well as cutting off a few hairs. "Hey, this ain't always gonna grow back you know! Now sit still so i can pummel ya!" Tarin barked at the swordsman, spinning round on the heel of one foot and atempting to leg sweep with the other, struggling to keep his balance.

"And why would I do that?" Archon mockingly questioned as he tapped speed from the ground to a slight move backwards to avoid the foot trying to trip him. His movement stopped as he spun the sword in his hand, swiftly cutting at the extended leg. He knew that it didn't have nearly enough force to actually sever it, but all hits counted. In his stance, he hoped to wear the opponent out with continuous damage... or maybe... He glanced at the skies again. The wind had changed direction, and the sky was darkening. A rainy day was fast approaching.

Tarin watched helplessly as he saw his leg being cut into by Archon's blade, and grimanced with a mixture of anger, pain, annoyance and embarrisment. "Awww crap, thats gonna leave another scar!" He grumbled as he quickly pulled his leg away from the sword, before glaring at the sky and going on to say; "And it's going to bloomin rain too! Oh this just get's better and better dosen't it!" Tarin then hoped on his healthy leg before carefully placing his injured leg back on ground, and then quickly batted the sword back with the flat of his hand, grabbed the swordsman and attempted to headbutt him. If this goes on for long i'm gonna have more than a few cuts, next time a limb, gets a slashing, time to use devil fruit Tarin thought to himself, determind to show the swordsman athing or two.

Archon intentionally threw himself back as the headbutt hit him, flying to the ground, flipping from the ground to a standing position just at the end of the slide. Then he leaped forward once more in a fleche movement, sliding past the other warrior as he executed a swift cut at chest level. This time, the sheer momentum should leave a deep wound. Then, at the end of his charge, he spun back towards the old man in a guarding position. "You can't win." He taunted. "You've seen nothing yet."

Tarin struggled to leap back from the sword slash and ended up with a large cut on his chest through his ragged shirt, but luckily due to the distance he put between them wasn't too deep, though still a serious wound. "Crap! This is why I hate fighting swordsmen!" He growled before wincing in pain as he leapt in the air, put his hands together so his knuckels where in a row, and attempted to knuckle hammer his foe from above.

Archon suddenly changed stance, stepping forward as he brought his sword to his side. His elbow-joint was at a 90 degree angle as he put his hand into a fist, The attack didn't get the time to connect properly as Archon stepped under it, ducking the hammerblow by walking straight into Tarin with a fisted hand blocking him. Then he stabbed at Tarin's gut with the blade. "Too easy..." This fight was going more and more in his favor. Most of his attacks were landing, and he had taken little damage. And the storm was coming. That would spell his final triumph.

Tarin panicked as he saw the sword head for his guts, managed to calm himself before lifting himself over Archon by pushing against his arm and landed behind him. "Ha! I'll show ya that youth and talent is no match for age and treachery!" Tarin gloated at his minor advantage, before spitting in Archons eye's and attempting to kcik him in the groin. "You don't get points for playing fair brat!" He gloated once more.

The old man appeared to have learned something. Archon had really thought this to be the final blow, but no. He turned to face his adversary, only to face a contempt-filled wad of spit in his forehead. This sudden change stunned him for a bit, and he didn't quite react in time.

Archon doubled over as he stumbled back, managing to keep his sword in some sort of guard. "You.. bastard..." He grunted out before raising his head in a pained but triumphant smile. Thunder roared somewhere nearby, and suddenly, the discharge decided to go down in Tarin's general location. Archon continued to back off as the spot about half a meter from Tarin was suddenly struck by a full-fledged blast of lightning, the storm having gathered from nothing in the minute they were fighting. Archon glanced at his sword. "How about that, you crotchety old bastard?!"

Tarin fell back, covered in soot and his clothes burnt as well as himself to a degree, smoke still rising from his body. He then awkwardly picked himself up and then bellowed at him in pure rage; "Oh for fuck's sake you really are a pansy using weather to fight for ya! Plus you completely ruined my faviroute waistcoat! Thats it time to teach ya how to respect elders!" He then suddenly started to grow in size and replace his scared skin with gree scales, his hands turned to claws, and his mouth grew outwards to a ridiculous length, with rows of sharp teeth. As the transformation was finished, he was twice the height of what he was before, 5'9. "Tokage Tokage no mi; Crocodile!" Tarin announced his devil fruit proudly, before leaping up in the air and aiming his elbow down at his foe.

"That's fighting dirty for ya!" Archon bellowed back, springing back to avoid the blow as he drew his blade to his left side. Just at the end of the swing, he slashed at the air a total of four times, sending 4 blades of air towards Tarin, each lower than the last. The first one was sent at neck level, aiming to decapitate him. The second was sent towards his abdomen, the third towards his waist and the last towards his knees, a much easier task with the suddenly enlarged size of his opponent.

Tarin landed with a thud, leaving some cracks on where his elbow landed. As he looked up at his target he noticed a few strange 'slashes' where heading towards him. He clumsily ducked under the first, and then ducked even lower for the second. "Man, the air slash thing always confuses me, right now to show ya a Tarin original!" the old man said cockily, before leaping over the last two 'slashes', to right next to his opponent, attempting to hold him in an arm lock.

As the crocodile monstrosity leaped at him, Archon once again took a fencing position, trying to thrust the blade into his opponent's throat while keeping him at bay with the threat of death. The rain heralded new thunder, but he couldn't strike yet. Lightning tended to affect a fair area and he wasn't nearly clear. He couldn't strike until he had managed to get further away. Hopefully, the blade would force him to back away.

Tarin stopped his attack, leaping back, putting quiet some distance between them. I wonder, since this is a dream, do all physics apply? he thought to himself while breathing heavily, showing his exhaustion, and suddenly came up with a plan. He then bent down and shoved his hands into the ground he then started to rip a chunck of the ground up and threw it at Archon, and then as he did, rushed at the swordsman with his arm out, planning to 'clothesline' him.

Archon leaped backwards as the chunk of ground flew at him just as lightning crashed down in Tarin's path as he ran. The lightning singed him slightly as he hadn't gotten quite as far as he would have needed. He started to scramble up to standing position as the charge started to subside. "Just die already will you?" Archon shouted. The guy was really tough. Hopefully, the second bolt of lightning had done him in.

Tarin wasn't hit quiet as badly as the first time, but he didn't need to, as he was now lying on the ground writhing in pain. "Damit! I can't lie around here! Cmon legs move!" he growled angrily at himself, dragging himself along towards his opponent, snapping at his ankles with his long razor toother mouth.

Archon stepped back to taunt his opponent one last time. "So high and mighty with your geezer credo, and now you're crawling. Do you realize how pathetic you look? Do you realize how hopeless this is for you?" Archon leaped over the crawling hybrid crocodile as he turned to stab him in the the back as the final coup-de-gras.

"Oh big whoop, you killed an old man with out weapons! Bet you can't wait to tell ya friends about that, brat!" Tarin spat out spitefully, before finally being impaled by his opponent, dropping his head and his eyes going cold, and therefore lost the battle.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Tarin then woke up lazily, sat up, and scratched himself. He looked out of the window of the inn room he was staying in and noticed it was still night. "Hm! That was a pointless dream, though wierdly realistic, guess i shouldn't enter any contests some time soon then. Well back to sleep!" as he chatted to himself, he slowly became more and more tired, and eventualy fell back down snoring.

"I don't brag." Archon solemnly stated as he walked away from the body that was already fading away, the perceptions guiding it having disappeared from the dreamworld. Archon had no reason to be here any longer. He had won. He walked away, somehow fading into the dreamstuff as the world disappeared when its inhabitants left. Soon, a new one would take it's place.

[Thread over.]