Teachings of Death : Tenmatsu Tenimi Vs F. Necroticans

Out of Character:

Here is the layout of the arena so you know what is what and the layout. The arena itself is not an arena, more like a clocktower. From the outside it stands almost 50 stories tall, with 4 faces, one on each side of the tower for viewing and destruction. It shows the time of the day no matter how you look at it. The numbers on the tower are each 12 feet tall and 6 feet thick of steel. The glass that holds the numbers up is not glass, it is a type of admantine, a material that looks like glass but is stronger then steel but weaker then titanium. So sending a normal person through the windows will be a hell of a trial; since nothing uner 500 pounds will even crack these windows. Underneath each face, in a row are lined 3 stained glass windows with each side representing something else. For example; the windows to the north represent life and have pictures of life on them Examples being a pregnant woman, a family, and old age. The windows to the south are the opposite of those windows. They represent death, and the windows show Death (aka the Grim Reaper), a casket and tombstone. The windows to the East represent Love; therefore the windows have a heart on one, lovers on the next and a ring on the last. Now the widows to the West represent Hate. And they show fires, violence and weapons. Now the inside is alot, and I mean alot different. Gears, coils, springs, bolts, even the 12 windows are all seen from inside the tower. You can see each of the windows from the middle of the arena and only there. The main gear where you first stand is roughly 15 feet by 15 feet and is 8 feet thick, of wood and steel. At the bottom of this tower is pure concrete, so hitting this floor from above is an instant death, unless you can float, fly, or anything of the sort. And when you enter this tower, the door, which stands roughly 10 feet tall by 5 feet wide vanishes untill only one stands. And when it vanishes, a gear, an odd colored gear appears. A pure jet black gear takes it place, to represent where the door in and out lies.

Standing 7'5, very muscular due to his age and profession. his clothing is torn and battered, The shirt itself is black leather with red blotches all over it, torn and ripped. The pants themselves are same material with red blotches down to the knee then they somehow stop. the pants are of a cargo jean type yet made of leather. Along with the clothes there he also wears a chameleon cloak to help him blend in with the environment. The cloak is jet black yet in certian light it looks blue, in others red. The cloak can button down all the way the front of it, it has sleeves for his arms.

Tenmatsu Tenimi,the Demi-god of death, the newest memeber to the Dajas Pagoda since his last opponent, A Nony Mouse never showed; Which resulted in an auto- forfit. Tenmatsu stood silently at the entrance to the Pagoda, waiting on his first challenger; The feeling is new to him. It feels good, it feels like taking that first breath of air when you wnter the new world.

The time of day was dusk, and at this time the wind is calming down; but still strong enough to sway branches and blow. In the distance wolves are howling, birds are whistling, people are talking and walking around, either eyeing Tenmatsu or going home. It is late so people want to get home before things go bump in the night; such as murders, rapes, robberys the works.

The reason Tenmatsu is standing outside his clock tower is cause he caught wind of fresh meat and decided to test the waters as they say.He heard the name after his last fight at the Pagoda, Against Sorahn. The Aibrone's told him of this person after that fight had been done adn over with. Tenmatsu agreed to fighting him; very happily agreed. The challenger is some kind of person named Damien Avetritus Aequitas, Research shows he is a half- elf. And wouldn't you know, Tenmatsu has a distinct hatred for any kind of elves, the good, the bad or even the ugly; Although you never find an ugly elf.

Now Tenmatsu is never one to turn down any challenge, no matter who they are or what they are.

As the sun vanishes Tenmatsu walks back into his Tower and await his opponent who is about to learn a lesson from Death himself.

"It's only a slight matter of time," Damien Alucius Aequitas whispered in an almost feverish tone, the air heavy with the smell of oil and sea salt. Like the ticking of a clock, the ferry to Scara Brae rocked back and forth on the dark, glassy waves; twice he had tried to count the motions, like the passing of seconds. The slats of the ferry's bench dug almost painfully into his tailbone, the unpleasant sensation growing steadily as the hours had ticked by. With a grunt, the hybrid sat forward, settling his elbows on his knees. His eyes, set in an intense gaze, stayed on the passing ocean beyond, where moon light glimmered like liquid silver in the water.

As always, he held the rusted iron arrow head between thumb and forefinger, occassionally stroking it's gritty, warm surface.

Around him, the other passengers chattered excitedly to one another, or sat with weapons on their knees, as grim and quiet as he. Waves of elation pressed in on him, making him feel almost giddy, and beneath that, something like apprehension...Damien was beginning to grow tired; he'd spent the better part of the little naval journey struggling to block them out. It was almost a job in itself to keep his thoughts from straying from his task - but the strange eye painted on the back of his neck, seeming to hum with winter's cold, helped to a small degree.

Damien's mind briefly flickered to the day before, when he had left one of the many libraries in Corone, having finally grown weary of thumbing through dust caked grimoires and tomes with fragile, yellow pages. He had found nothing to be any help; any mention of drawing a body back from the grave was paired with the words shambling, mindless, and decaying. Never did he hear restore, but only animate. The business of necromancy was an irritating and disgusting one for the hybrid, once that he seemed to be having less patience for each day - despite it being his only visible option.

Even these years later, he could hear the arrow drive its way through his mother's chest.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bench again, grimacing. It wasn't a memory that he enjoyed haunting him, but it always managed to seem to poke it's way into his consciousness sooner or later. Most of the time, he heard it just as he was waking from the previous night's restless sleep and it's hounding nightmares.

When the bowed little man in the heavy purple robes had approached him outside of the library, he wasn't much surprised. There was a great amount of talk in the back alleys of the half-elf, and the mass of gold he was promising to anyone who would bring him a satisfying method to his mother's ressurection. Of course, there was no reward; all he'd done was set his eyes on some of the biggest mouths of the city and made them see a veritable mountain of gold. Damien had waved him off, uninterested; the old man had looked like the usual crack pot hermits that had been coming to him. He hurriedly told the hybrid of a Forgotten One, an ancient being that had conquered death, to whom raising his mother as fresh as the day of her last birthday would be no trying issue.

'Here, down to me, my boy,' the old man had said, in his dusty, quiet voice, producing a mortar and pestle. He poured a vial of dark blood and a satchel of liviol ashes into the stone bowl, and had ground it into a thick past as Damien watched. 'To Scara Brae, you will go. A display of your aptitude is necessary. When you step foot on the little nation, to the Dajas Pagoda, you will go, where the strong congregate, and you shall kill the warrior who is named on this ticket.' The old man bent closer to the ground, leaving him to wonder if he would finally collapse under the weight of the enormous book on his back, lashed there with tar dipped ropes. Instead, he rose back up, and held out a thin, gray hand, the knuckles heavy and knotted, clutching a peice of parchment between two veined fingers.

"Laaaaand hoooooo!" his odd violet eyes flickered towards the dark horizon, where the isle of Scara Brae drew closer and closer beneath a heavy, contented moon. And beyond it, where even the wisest eyes could not see, his future drew closer.

~

Tenmatsu Tenimi.

Damien turned the ticket over in his hand, but aside from clusters of numbers which meant nothing to him, no other information was given to him. The name reminded him of Akashima. He disliked the Pagoda warrior, already. Anything that even remotely reminded him of his homeland, he hated intensely; be it a passing glance of the emblem on shipping crates, the wafting smell of the unique cuisine from avant garde restaraunts, which provided themselves on their culture. The inner halls of the Pagoda was lit by frosted glass lamps, set high in the stone walls. If they gave off even the slightest amount of heat, he didn't notice; since arriving, the eye of blood and ash had grown even colder, robbing his body of it's warmth.

Passing dark stained oak doors, he glanced at the brass numbers set above them, his scowl growing as time passed, and the numbers on his ticket did not match them. A helpful member of the staff had helped him decode the numerical nonsense, but it did little good. He was still lost.

Grumbling irritably to himself, he nearly passed the door.

"Ah ha!" He cried out in triumph, whipping around and grabbing the door knob. Throwing the door open, he lunged inside, expecting a simple room.He was instantly startled by the complex assembly of brass and copper cogs, springs, and gears pressing in on either side of him, feeling instantly cramped. "Damn...I read the numbers wrong," he growled lowly - and turned to find that the door had vanished. In it's place was a blank wall of red brick and gray mortar. "M-maybe I didn't." Blinking with wide eyes, Damien took a few steps back, then turned around, inching down the clock work hallway.

A few moments later, the uncomfortably close assemblies grew larger, then spread into a large opening. Glancing to his left, he could see the interior of a massive glass clockface. Damien arched a single brow at the pictures splayed across its surface, but said nothing as he stepped onto an enormous gear.His boots thumped against it's wooden surface, and he turned his gaze into the rest of the room - and saw what could only be the heirarch of this particular arena.

Whether it was human, elven, or anything else, he could not be certain. The man was enormous, towering far over the hybrid. It's broad form was lost mostly beneath a cloak, whose color was elusive; with each breath, it seemed to change. The scythe he clutched in one hand was nearly as tall as he, and it's long, wicked blade shown in the moon light filtering through the heavy glass. Instantly, he could feel his mind snagging on something, like iron barbs - hatred.

"Ah...don't like me, do you?" Damien shrugged, and tugged at the cuff of one of his gloves, pulling it tight. "Oh well. Nothing personal, friend," he called out in a mocking tone, and began to search out Tenmatsu's eyes with his own cold gaze.

Quote:

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I just want to say that I really liked how Damian entered the arena, it was a little neat and well written

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Tenmatsu eyes were closed as Damien had entered the fray; But as the wood creeked from each of his footsteps he slowly opened his eyes carefully eyeing Damien like a hawk.

Finally Tenmatsu speaks, mockingly but yet with a serious tone "Trust me, you don't want me to not like you, It is best you have me as a friend and not an enemy." He says eyes shooting open while he is glaring at Damien; looking up and down slowly taking mental notes of potenial threats from the enemy.

With his right hand gripped on his scythe, blade shinning in the moonlight bright as day and the floor creaking, Tenmatsu slowly lifts his scythe up so it is off the floor and points the blade towards the ground; and slowly starts to walk towards Damien.

When he gets within five feet of Damien he brings his scythe up and arched behind his back and then quickly grips it with his left hand so he can hit full force.

The moon glaring behind him also helps Tenamtsu, the light helps conceal him later. But here is the thing, Tenmatsu will only fight between Dusk and Sunrise. And between them hours is when the true Demi-God comes out; And that is something you must either kill him or survive till sunrise...

"Now fight or die Elf!!!" Tenmatsu says as he brings his scythe in to slice Damien's feet off.