Show me how to live(Open, level 0-1 please)

[Winterhair]

Vincent did not believe in destiny. Neither did he believe in fate. For him, his own choices brought him to where he went, led him along the path of blood he ofted tread. But yet, as the tall swordsman scanned the towering building before him with swirling silver eyes, he could not shake the feeling that he had been driven here by some unknown force.

It had not been his intention to come to the Citadel, and yet here he was now, standing before it with the wind cutting his skin with the bitter winter cold and his feet nearly frozen from the walk. Snow littered the ground now, winter had come and sneaked up on the city of Radasanth once more. The white, wet flakes fell into his silver hair, and absently Vincent looked up at the clouds in the sky.

The sun would not shine on this day.

Taking a couple steps forward, the blood now rushing back to his feet, he nearly stumbled from the sudden feeling but caught his balance again at the last moment. Outside, his face remained as passive as ever, but inside the swordsman was cursing himself and his clumsiness, regarding it as a weakness. Had his feet been seperate enteties, he would have drawn his blade and struck them down where they stood.

Others noticed his near-fall and started coming to help, but a quick, silver-eyed glare and a snarl from Vincent kept them at bay. He would not be low enough to accept such help from weaklings like them. He was not a weakling. Straightening up, Vincent once against started walking, his footsteps now steady. Slowly but surely he climbed up the stairway to the Citadel, looking at every individual, trying to guage their strength. His efforts were in vain, however, as by the time he reached the top he had not seen anyone worthy of his time.

The problem was those robes. He felt that they hid the monks' true nature, their true power, and a sudden urge to reach out and twist the robes off of one of the nearby monks took a grip of Vincent. However he dealt with that urge appropriately, glaring at another set of whispering monks before tightening the grip on the scabbard that held his blade.

"Welcome, young swordsman." A voice spoke out from behind Vincent. It surprised him, as it came out of completely nowhere. He spun around with his left hand on the hilt of his blade, but all who stood there was a monk with the hood off, revealing a slightly youthful face touched by the curse of knowledge. He frowned as he noticed Vincent's hand, and waved it away. "Please, sir, you are in no danger here, I assure you."

"Fuck you." Vincent spoke now, his tongue uttering the vulgar syllables that came so easily forward. "You're wrong. I'm always in danger." As he spoke a slow smile came over his face that spread wide, and the swordsman's eyes gained a distant look. The monk soon realized that this man was excited by the prospect, of constantly being in danger.

"In any case," the monk continued as if nothing had happened, walking away towards one of the doors in the wall. "...welcome to the Citadel. Do you wish to battle right away, or hear the rules first?"

Even though this had been one of the first times Vincent had been to the Citadel, he was not ignorant and knew full well how the Citadel worked. He switched hands, his right hand now on the hilt and his left holding the scabbard, as he walked forward with that same psychotic smile on his face. "I don't care, just give me someone strong." He told the monk before opening the door and stepping into darkness.

Whoever accepts this is free to choose the arena.

[Rogue Virus]

"You can most likely find him roaming Corone, an island that sits within the country of Althanas," the broad man remarked in a thick voice.

"Correct me if I am wrong, but islands do not lie within land. They lie within water," Felicity said boldly, already irritated that her need of money had to come to this man. He was vile, and she couldn't stand anything about him.

"Don't correct me, wench!" He scolded. "Do you want this money or not?!" Felicity said not a word. "As I thought. You bring me his head, I give you the other half of your pay, got it?" Felicity nodded once. "Good. Now get the hell out of my sight," the man ended, throwing his hand in the air nonchalantly and turning his back to her.

"You're in the right place, this is Althanas," the cat-looking girl said, half occupied with grooming herself. "Though Corone is an island. There's a ferry that takes passengers to and from the mainland. If you follow the edge of the trees, you'll come across a populated area, and one of the folk there can point you in the right direction."

Felicity nodded her head in thanks, and the feline-being purred, sitting back on the ground to continue what she started. The young woman did as she was instructed, following the line of trees that seemingly went on for miles. Felicity was not at all familiar with Althanas; it was her first time here, but perhaps not her last. It all depended on the dealings she could get. From what she could see as of now, it didn't seem too bad - it was remote, or at least this area was, and Felicity liked that in living quarters. As she continued on, finding the trek increasingly boring, it made her wish she had asked how long it was until civilization showed itself. It was early in the morning, and the surroundings were still. Felicity focused on her task ahead, racking around ideas about how to deal with the Elf she was supposed to kill. She did not ask details, she did not care why he was wanted, nor why so quickly. Her job was to kill him and bring back his head. That was the only thing she was concerned about.

By about mid-day, Felicity could see the makings of dwellings. Finally, she thought, building her speed a little. She had not run into one living thing all day, save the catgirl she had asked directions from. Finally, people were in sight. It wasn't long before the young woman was blending into the streets, looking around at the various shops and various creatures roaming. Some disgusted her, some fascinated her, and some made her speechless. Felicity did not wish to get caught in the bustle, and she peered about for the first loner she saw to ask where she could find the ferry to Corone - an old man caught her attention, by himself looking through the glass of a shop.

"Pardon me, but could you point me in the direction of the ferry that--"

"Oh! Corone yer lookin' fer, eh?!"

"Well, yes, in fact, I--"

"'Dem swords on yer back says yous lookin' for Radasanth! Only reason anyone ever go to that ther island is to fight, anyway."

"No, sir, I just need--"

"I used ter fight in mah day, girlie. Oh. I did. I'd win er few, too! I remember this one time, I was fightin' this meeeean bastard from, er... er... ah, it don't matter! I beat him with his own staff! Ah hah!"

"That's... fascinating, but I just--"

"Now, yer gonna travel down this road here, see? Right down there, and yous gonna make a left. Left! A left where you see an old statue of some feller. Keep goin' and the ferry'll come into view quick as day! Once off the ferry, Radasanth will be straight ahead of ya. The Citadel ain't too far off from there! Good luck, girlie!"

Felicity opened her mouth to speak, but there were no words. She didn't bother, seeing how he was already moving past her to look at the next shop. She took his directions, hoping they were legit since his head didn't seem so, and sure enough, with a swift left at the end of the road, the ferry came into view. People were boarding, and it seemed it was leaving shortly. Running as quickly as she could, Felicity was able to catch it before it left dock. She took a seat in a corner to catch her breath, watching as the mainland slowly got smaller. What was this Citadel the man had spoken of? Fighting? A place to battle? In mid-thought, she began listening into conversations, hearing a few more speak of the Citadel. It was in fact, a battle ground. And from the sounds of it, an extensive, well-known one. Thoughts of fighting filled her head, now, instead of finding the elf she was supposed to behead. The island of Corone was coming into view and Felicity's head danced with thoughts of battling. Once able to get off the ferry, she followed the crowd heading towards the Citadel, now completely dismissing her task at hand.

It wasn't long before she stood at the base of a large domain, people passing her up the steps into different passages. Felicity watched them move, and followed a pair towards a monk, who pointed them to one of the said passages. Before Felicity could say a would, he pointed her towards one of the ways inside. She nodded her head and approached, wondering who or what awaited her behind the door. Her hand reached, and the door opened, and in the blink of an eye, she was standing on the top of a large building, dusk around her. It was quiet, and the sky was a deep blue, save the horizon was orange and yellow. The wind was blowing softly, and as she adjusted to her surroundings, she looked for a fighter as well.

[Winterhair]

Fear was not something that Vincent expected to find as he stepped through the door. And yet, fear was what he found when his leather sandals kissed the pavement of this tall, tall arena.

His eyes were drawn down. He looked over the edge, and saw that his stomach had dropped along with his sight. His vision blurred as, unconciously, he stepped backwards, eyes drawn to the edge as he distanced himself from it. He didn't even notice the dusk sky, or the other buildings sorrounding the one he was standing upon. He didn't even turn around as a portal opened in the air, cutting a swath through it and letting a woman, with dark brown hair and twin blades upon her back, step out, her back to the swordsman.

It was not until Vincent heard the step of the woman's shoes on the pavement that he snapped out of his revery. In instinct, his left hand flew to the hilt of his blade, which he held sheathed and ready in its scabbard in his right. He dragged his right foot as he spun around in that direction, a look of wild glee momentarily fleeting across his face as he forgot his fear of the height for the moment and became focused on the idea of fighting a strong opponent. That look was replaced with a look of confusion, then anger swirled in his silver eyes.

"What the FUCK!?" He roared, and his voice soared through the air. His left hand released its grip on the hilt as he straightened, running it through his silver hair as glared at the woman's back. "I asked for someone friggin' strong, not a pussy." He turned his back to her now, glaring off into the sky as now his hand left his hair and became a fist as he shook it upwards. "Bastards, give me somethin' strong or I'll come up there and kill ya myself!"

[Rogue Virus]

The immediate roar of an angry voice made Felicity turn on her heel quickly. A man stood with his back to her, his fist threatening the empty sky. I asked for someone friggin' strong, not a pussy. Felicity rolled her eyes at the man's obvious narrow-mindedness. Where men all the same? Did they believe women could not be equals, possibly even more advanced? This concept alone made her wish to fight him even more, just to prove a point that even if she could not beat him, she would put a few dents in his ego. He was obviously quite infuriated with the monk's choice of fighter for him, for he didn't let up on the threats. Instead of wasting energy on yelling at him to hurry his rant, her gaze wandered back to her surroundings. Felicity found it important to simply be familiar with her surroundings. She took steps away from her opponent, peering over the edge of the nearest side. "Poles extending outward," Felicity said to herself. She then walked to the opposite side, as well as the one behind her, and made a note that there were poles on each of the sides, and she assumed there would be one where the other fighter stood as well.

"I can stand here all evening. Let me know when you're ego has come back to solid ground," Felicity said over the soft breeze. She continued looking around, noticing the distance of the other buildings from the one they were on.

[Winterhair]

The woman's soft voice carried over to Vincent's ears, and for a minute he was silent as he turned towards her. Swirling silver eyes glared balefully at the woman as he stood, facing her now, with his blade still in its scabbard. Then he spoke, an irritated tick resonating within the cords of his voice. "If you think your so tough, bitch, come over here and prove it." And on that note he drew his blade, a thin rasping sound emanating from the blade sliding against the ivory bone of the scabbard. Grasping his black coat with two fingers that weren't busy clutching the sheath, he slid out of it like butter and tossed it to the side casually, and it fell into a black puddle of cloth about ten feet away on the concrete. His left foot drifted backwards, as did his left hand holding his blade, and he held the bone sheath in his right hand vertically in front of him while he bent his right knee.

This was his classic fighting position, but there was something off about it. He wasn't tense, like he always was whenvever the bloodlust of battle came over him, and his muscles were loose and relaxed. While he did not realize this himself, this created a serious detrement to his fighting style. While for others, a loose, relaxed position might have been beneficial, his sword style relied on his natural strength and beserk status, and so, without knowing, he had immediately placed himself at a disadvantage.

Underestimating the twin-blade using woman before him was not a good idea. Nonetheless, in his mind, she wasn't worth his time, and while he wasn't much of a thinker, in the back of his head he found himself wondering why he had even assumed this position. Maybe it was his in-born fighter's blood, or his anger that had led him to this.

But, in a couple moments, it would not matter. This bloody showdown was about to begin.

Thanks for taking up my battle. If there is anything you'd like to ask or want to clarify, go ahead and AIM me or PM me.

[Rogue Virus]

The fighter in front of her reminded Felicity of a man she had once noticed in passing. Though he held the company of only himself, he talked as if he were entertaining someone else, and yelled as if to grab the attention of an invisible crowd. The vague memory of the encounter and the similarity of the two made a soft grin tug at her upper lip. He seemed so angry and antsy for no reason, though who was she to assume he had no reason for being overly enthused about fighting. His stance made Felicity anxious to know if his bite... for lack of a better word, matched his bark. Felicity wasn't very worldly; she barely knew anything about herself. Did those who posed in such a way really know what they were doing? Was it an ancient technique? Did he make it up? Does it help him? Hurt him?

"Well let's find out," she said virtually inaudibly to herself.

Felicity nodded once slowly, and as her head raised, her hands reached over her shoulders to grasp the broad swords on her back. She now held the rather large weapons down on either side of her. To her opponent, or to anyone, she must have looked a bit strange. Felicity was not scrawny or weak, but she was not like the burly men that usually held only one broadsword. With simple ease, she twirled them both in her hand, then tilted her head to the side, looking at him. I'll show you what a girl can do with a sword.

"Your move, pawn," Felicity uttered against the soft wind.

[Winterhair]

The wind shifted, and the woman who had drawn the two broadswords had spoken. Her words carried over to Vincent even through the distance.

Now this was a, what he considered, pleasant surprise. The girl had just lifted two broadswords off of her back with one hand each, and had twirled them like they weighed next to nothing. Vincent reconsidered her strength, and smiled as he straightened up slightly. "Well, that's new." He said to himself, but his words were loud enough so that the girl across the way could probably hear his words. "I've never seen a girl do that before. Maybe this'll be fun after all..." And, as if that were the starting gunshot for the battle, he ran forward with a startling speed, his huge form racing forward and his ivory sheath held in his left hand now in front of him.

He got to her, and wasted no time. His long, 5-foot blade swung around at a fast pace from where he held it behind him, as too cut the girl diagonally. He himself was crouched low to the ground, and with his sheath in the other he also attacked, making it a jab to the stomach instead.

[Rogue Virus]

It was not in Felicity's plan to be cut in half by his blade, but as she moved out of its path, the sharp jab in her side of his sheath caught her. Not even seeing it come out at her, it caused her to lose a bit of balance and stumble out of his way. That was rather annoying, she said to herself, quickly regaining her balance. She noticed that her opponent didn't seem to lose his much and quickly wished to make a strike at him before he could stand to full height again. Though, she became stuck to her spot, and wasn't sure how to approach him. Her swords were larger than he and she could swing them as if they weighed the same as his, but when they would pass over her face, there were a few seconds of time where she could not see her opponent. This was unnerving since he seemed to be quite fast.

Instead of attacking him, now, Felicity decided it may be better just to see how he worked. How fast he really was, if she could match his speed, what it would take to defeat him as easily as possible. That way, she would not put herself in a weak spot. He already got a nice jab at her, and she didn't want him getting many more, if any. At least that contact didn't cause blood loss; just a bruise, maybe. Her first fight in the Citadel, she did not wish to lose, especially in such a fashion. No, she would wait it out, play cat and mouse if she had to until she could understand his ways just a bit better. She stepped back from him, looking at her distance from the opposite side of the building so she could judge how far she was from the edge behind her. Felicity refused to take her eyes away from him.