Understanding Assimilation

[Abomination]

Open to someone active/frequent. Preference to experienced writers, but as long as you're active you're welcome. Oh, and naturally Cyrus The Virus approves of all this.

Luke "Viral" Kraus. That was the name given to him. That was the name he told the monks of Ai'Brone, or at least the Viral part. He could not really accept the same name as his master, and resolved to address himself as Viral wherever he went. The decision to not accept his master's direct order was not an act of free will; it was a construct of his Homunculus self-defense mechanism that prevented him from becoming the people he was assimilating. Such a construct would naturally block out the idea of adopting the subject's name as well. Oddly, this did not conflict with his master's Enslavement spell. His master could continue to call him Luke, but if anyone else were to address him thusly, he would assert his name to be Viral.

Luc Kraus had taught him many things, and in the way of the sword he now found himself able, but there were some things Luc could not teach him. He was not a particularly good teacher, and would rather have Viral find out many things himself. Despite the man's vast intelligence, he could not trace the origins of Viral's Homunculus abilities, including his assimilation ability. Being the perceptive man he is, Luc had at least discovered that the ability stemmed from physical contact with its victim. He instructed Viral to find how to harness the power, and hold onto its activation for longer periods of time. The Homunculus had no idea what Luc had meant with these words, but he had no capacity to contest them. His job was merely to obey, and Luc assured him that his words would reveal themselves to them in a light that makes sense very soon. It was odd that Luc would not be around to see this, but apparently he had urgent business in Raiaera. It mattered not, for he could communicate to the Homunculus through his Whisper ability.

Viral had no preference for arena. The monks lead him into a generic circular arena with concrete floor blocks. All around it were various wooden bleachers and the long hallways of the temple behind those. The hallways had no sides and their tops formed a dome-like structure around the arena, although it extended very little beyond the hallways so both the arena and bleachers were exposed to the full effect of the sunlight. Luc had explained the idea behind The Citadel: It was a place where people could fight to near-death and return unscathed, due to the exceptional healing abilities of the monks. In short, it was where one could go all out and not worry about the repercussions. Viral was very eager to meet his opponent and undergo the process of "assimilation" with him as explained by Luc. The Homunculus had actually little to no recollection of his transformations, but Luc explained that perhaps with an identity, Viral would be able to retain his personality even after assimilation.

He waited for his opponent, which the monks assured would come very soon. Someone strong he hoped, so he could truly test his master's theory.

[Bloodrose]

"There is a face I have not seen in many years." The Ai'Brone standing next to the doorway said softly with a knowing smile. He was a wizened old man, standing perhaps just five feet tall and wearing the robes of his order comfortably. His face around his eyes was so wrinkled that it was amazing he could see anything at all, let alone pick faces out of a crowd.

"Yes." Teric Bloodrose responded dryly, stopping to stand in front of the man. His cane made a soft clicking noise as he planted it firmly on the flagstones that funneled would be combatants into the gaping maw of the Citadel and the wondrous arenas beyond. Decades ago Teric had learned never to question the Ai'Brone, and was well aware of their legendary memories. "It has been many, many years since I last entered this place."

The old monk nodded sagely, his bald head catching some of the morning sun like a polished globe. "Twenty years, more perhaps?"

"More, I seem to recall." Teric replied. In all honesty he couldn't even remember the last time he had stepped confidently into one of the countless arenas the Ai'Brone could seemingly conjure out of thin air. I must have been what, twenty-six, twenty-seven? He pondered silently. Who did I fight back then, Ser Dawkins?

"Ser Dawkins was already dead the last time you graced these halls." The monk interrupted Teric's train of thought effortlessly, as though he could read the old warrior's thoughts by just watching his face. It was unnerving, and Teric wondered just how much the monks really understood of a person just by looking at them...

"Yes, well, all dust under the carpet, isn't it?" Teric retorted, tapping his cane impatiently on the stone floor. He took a deep breath of the cool morning air, trying to refrain from politely requesting that the monk never read his thoughts ever again.

"Indeed." The monk nodded again. "And you are not here to discuss the feats of your youth. You are here for something else?"

"I'm here for a fight." Teric replied plainly, quickly tiring of the monks. Maybe they were the reason I stopped coming here? "I'm trying to start over, in a sense."

At that the monk gave a soft chuckle, his wrinkles shaking in time with the raspy wind rattling through old lungs. "An interesting time to be starting over." The monk said, turning to point towards the entrance. "The second door on the left will give you what you want."

Nodding in thanks, Teric turned and set off through the entrance way and down the main hall towards the door indicated. His iron shod boots clicked and clacked with every step. In his chest the old warrior could feel the familiar feelings of war fermenting, a mixture of confidence and apprehension that twisted itself into a knot and somewhere around his heart and descended slowly to his abdomen. That familiar feeling was more like a friend to Teric than any person, and there was an old adage that said "If you don't fear going into battle, then you are already dead."

Reaching for the second door on the left, Teric grasped the iron ring and closed his eyes. In his mind his pictured a wondrous room filled with velvet carpets, mounds of pillows, fountains of fine wine, and a complete harem of gorgeous young women. With that pleasant image in mind, he pushed the door open with his eyes still firmly shut and stepped inside...

Sounds like iron-shod on stone. Teric thought dismally. Apparently someone had gotten to the room before him, and their ideal battleground was not one fought in the bedroom. Opening his eyes, Teric took in the circular arena with trained precision, noting every bleacher, every hallways, the sunlight, and the non-descript male standing alone in the arena...waiting...

"Interesting place you've got here." He offered chattily. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but it will do in a pinch I suppose."

[Abomination]

The sun beamed down brightly upon the arena. It was a clear blue sky, and Viral could feel the heat rising from the stone block floor. He thought again to his mission and stared at his hands. A mere touch could activate this strange ability? He knew he could trust those words, but he was still doubtful. He saw, or more accurately, felt the man come onto the arena. The only one who could give off such a feeling and willingly enter this area would be his opponent, or a lost, but strong stranger. The latter idea wasn't even a possibility in his mind.

He acknowledged the man's words by nodding, and added, "I am Viral." Luc had taught him that such greetings were necessary if one wanted to become renowned in this world.

Viral could tell the man was aged, but he seemed to be wearing entirely too much clothing, like he was hiding something. Battle tactics were another thing taught by Luc, and Viral knew that he had to assess the situation before making any moves. He could plainly see the aura around the man that only he could see, which denoted his power to the Homunculus. It was nowhere near as large as Luc's, but perhaps he would now be able to control his ability. With such elaborate covering though, the Homunculus wondered how he would establish any sort of physical contact with him. Were he not as dim-witted, he could of easy formulated a plan to inspire physical contact without even fighting, but he had only his master's teaching and his own observations to draw on. He had no capacity to draw his own conclusions at this point.

He decided to start off in the same manner as his practice matches with Luc, and that was to draw his sword. The short sword wasn't particularly suited to Viral's fighting style, which was until recently was swinging weapons around wildly, but according to Luc it would aid in turning his own body into a weapon. The sword was not to be considered a separate weapon, but an extension of his own arm. Unfortunately, Viral could take this quite literally.

Of course, Viral had been taught some manners, and after declaring his own name, he asked, "And who might you be?"

[Bloodrose]

Viral? What kind of name is that? Teric pondered, his eyes keenly focused on the short blade being drawn opposite him. His grip around the head of his cane tightened, preparing to whip out the hidden blade at a second's notice should his opponent decide to just attack immediately. Quite surprisingly, the man didn't attack right away, but instead extended his greeting. At least the poor lad's mother taught him some manners. Teric thought. Even if she did give him such an awful name.

"Teric Bloodrose." He announced with some level of pride. "Champio..." He went to add his usual list of titles and accomplishments after announcing his name, but realized rather suddenly that the young man who was his opponent wouldn't care. Nor would he be impressed, for most likely he would imagine Teric to be making up a long list of fake battles and tournaments, so long ago had they taken place. No, I'm starting over. Teric reminded himself. You'll have to earn yourself a new list of titles.

It was at this juncture that the Teric of bygone days would have put longsword to shield in challenge and charged across the arena. Of important note, however, was that the Teric of bygone days was actually capable of hefting longsword and shield without difficulty, and could run like the wind. Hell, in those days he could have stormed a castle, slayed a dragon, and maybe even have torn a volume of histories in half across its width. The Teric of old could have done a lot of things, and would have, but the now old Teric simply stood his ground, observing.

There'll be no jumping and running through the bleachers to gain a height advantage... Ideas and strategies flitted through his head in a constant stream as he looked around. The idea of getting a leg caught in the seats and tearing his old knees was not a pleasant one, and was not something he was eager to risk. Don't really know if these hallways go anywhere, except around? Certainly plenty of sunlight, but nothing really to hide behind... The sun was starting to warm the stone in the arena, and beneath his heavy coat Teric was beginning to perspire...

"Well, come along lad." Teric said casually, beckoning to his opponent with his free hand. "You're not going to make an old man come to you are you?"

[Abomination]

Teric Bloodrose. Viral made a mental note of this name, as instructed by his master. He was now alone, for that was about the extent of his master's instruction. The old man beckoned for Viral to make the first move, which was his original intention anyway.

He held his sword out front with his right arm, its tip pointing at Teric. He was strong enough to hold it steady, and he tried to envision it as just a really pointy and long hand. He could see it, but he could not feel it. It didn't seem real to him if it wasn't part of his body. Nonetheless, he maintained a firm grip as he swung it behind it, its tip making a clanking sound against the ground. He put his left hand on the handle, and put his left foot in front. Bending down and lowering his head, he broke into a spring toward his opponent.

The ground almost sunk as he ran along it, and immediately rose back as he stepped off each one meter block. The monk told him that the arena was 'special', but Viral had not understood what he meant, and foolishly did not press further.

With the sharp tip of the sword just barely off the ground, Viral attempted to close the distance gap between them. Just before reaching his target, he let the blade hit the ground and immediately swung upwards. It was a move more suited to a larger and bulkier weapon, but he did it with a simple short sword, flinging dust from the concrete toward the opponent as the blade flew upwards from the ground. The weaknesses behind such a move were beyond him, but he had an ulterior motive in mind.

[Bloodrose]

One, two... Teric shifted his cane to his left hand as Viral lunged forward. The man came head on, his body lowered into the charge and his weapon trailing point down beside him. Confident, naive, or stupid. The old warrior's mind ticked, listing off the reasons why an opponent would opt for such an attack so early on. There was speed and power in the move, but it left a man with pitifully few swordplay manuevers to choose from...

Rather than take an educated guess at when the strike was coming, Teric allowed Viral's blade to speak to him, watching the tip of the weapon carefully as the young man carried it through his initial charge. As the gap between the two men shortened the blade dropped and hit the ground, and that was all the cue Teric needed. Slash! Went Viral's blade through thin air as Teric sidestepped neatly to his left, letting the upward strike streak by. Clink, whip! Went Teric's swordcane in reply as he twisted the cane-head, unsheathed, and whipped the thin steel blade across his body in one fluid movement.

It wasn't the most glamorous counterattack, but the horizontal strike from left to right across his body and directed towards Viral's seemingly unarmored chest should get the message across loud and clear. Teric Bloodrose was not a man to be pushed around or taken lightly...

[Abomination]

The grip on his sword was loose, and the force used to make the swing was lighter than it appeared. Viral was going to get hit, but he was deliberately taking the hit. Although, the old man's movements were much quicker than he thought, so his window of opportunity was very small.

As the old man moved and prepared his attack in one motion, Viral had already let go of his blade with his right hand. He was far behind where he could've been had he been more agile, but brute strength was more his forte. As the sword-cane's blade popped out and whizzed across the air towards Viral, he tried desperately to shift his body move his right foot, which had been ahead of his left while he stabbed upward, towards Teric's new position and step forward.

The blade hit the side of Viral's chest and pierced into his ribcage. As this occurred, he reached out and attempted to grab the hand wielding the weapon. His body hunched over with his arms outstretched, and his right knee was bent forward. He was hoping this would be the extent of physical damage he needed to make physical contact, unaware of the sort of damage he was causing to himself. For Luc's Enslavement spell to make him forget his very instincts was a testament to how little humanity the creature had. He figured Teric would only feel a touch before pulling his weapon back and evading the grab, but it would be all Viral needed. If this failed, his options were to become very limited.

[Bloodrose]

Stupid. Teric thought, selecting that option from his previous list of reasons for the young man's blatant charge. It was a thought that was dangerously short-lived however, as it didn't take long for the old warrior to notice that something was terribly amiss. Viral did not seem to even be attempting to deflect or evade the simple counter-attack, nor was he even holding onto his weapon! The shortsword was completely forgotten as the man seemed to lunge into Teric's lashing blade, taking the thin steel in the ribs as he seemed to scramble for Teric's weapon hand.

What in the name of the Goddess?

His first instinct was revulsion, a semi-involuntary jerk to try and fall away from his surely insane opponent. There was a very sudden fear coursing through the old warrior that the man was rabid with some form of disease or fever. It was not normal for a man to so willingly and so deliberately take a blow to the side of the chest as Viral seemed so willing to do; it seemed more the mark of a wild animal. Yet as Teric tried to free his rapier-like blade from Viral's injured ribs, the wild man's balmy grip closed over Teric's exposed wrist and hand.

"Get away from me, you manky bastard!" Teric shouted, yanking his hand free and pulling his weapon away with it. The blade was red with blood, and the flesh where Viral's grip had fallen over his flesh was numb as if stung. He fell back a few steps, and then a few more until the back of his legs came up against the first row of the wooden bleachers that encircled the dueling area. What did he just do to me? Teric wondered. He switched weapons with his hand and feverishly began wiping his hand on his coat as if trying to wipe off something that wasn't there. Between glancing worriedly at the front and the back of his hand, Teric kept a watchful eye on Viral, wondering what kind of horrors the man might yet beget.

[Abomination]

For some reason, Viral became immediately disgusted at his tactics, or lack thereof. Out of all the ways to procure physical contact, he had to choose this? The old man seemed horrified and backed away like the Homunculus was carrying the plague, bits of flesh and blood forming a line between them as the blade was forcibly pulled out of his body. He held his side, for although he had an unusually high tolerance for pain, he wasn't unaware of it. Unfortunately, there was one thing Luc Kraus was wrong about: Every assimilation did not bring about complete regeneration. While the bleeding stopped and the wound closed, the internal damage was still there.

Speaking of which, he felt like he was in a daze. His arms dropped down and dangled while he seemed severely slouched over. His hair turned a silver color, lost its spikiness, and fell gently forward, partially obscuring his vision when standing upright. His youthful facial features turned into a more mature look that resembled Teric, but still fairly young.

In the middle of this, he realized what was happening when he lifted his head and saw the silver hair in front of him. He began concentrating hard on his name: Viral, Viral, Vi-ra-l...

His clothes turned a deep shade of black, except for his shirt which turned into a dark crimson color. Were even his clothes affected by assimilation? A small, light silvery beard formed underneath his chin, extending to his sideburns. Finally, his eyes turned blue. He was disgusted at these tactics, of all the countless times he's been here he's never done something so foolish! Why, if he could take on that group of mercenaries twenty years ago using such superb swordplay, it was no contest to... what? Why was he here?

The Homunculus had failed. He had once again lost himself in his transformation. He stood upright, raising his head and wiping his loose hair behind his ears. He stared at the old man, who looked positively aghast, and wondered who he was. Looking around the arena, he figured he had been bashed on the head or something, since he couldn't remember why he was here. Ah, something in the back of his mind told him he had a mission, which was an odd thought as he usually called them jobs. It was easy to figure out: this was some sort of mercenary job. It was hard to keep track of all his jobs, they were always so trivial.

Just another day.

He kicked the handle of the sword on the ground and it landed sharply into his hands. He swung it a few times, cutting the air with a new sense of precision. He did not question where his sword-cane had gone, or why he was wearing such an easy-going outfit, but that was of no concern. He wondered why the right side of his chest and some of his ribs hurt so much, noticing the patches of blood in front of him.

"You did this to me, didn't you old man?" He asked, sensing an odd familiarity with the old man.

The familiarity was most likely because the old man was his target for this particular job, although his outfit and weaponry were extremely suspect. He balanced his sword's bottom on the tip of his finger while he was thinking. For some reason, the thought of his name was pounding away at his head.

There was only one way to get this nagging sensation out of his head, "I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I feel somewhat compelled to: I am Teric Bloodrose. You won't be alive long enough to tell anyone else though, but there you go."

He decided not to underestimate the old man. After all, they were usually the trickiest opponents of all, if not the fastest or the strongest. Of course, he noticed the old man's disarrayed state earlier, and pressed this advantage by breaking into a sprint with his sword held in front by his right hand, pointing diagonally towards the ground. For some reason, the chest pain did not bother him as much as it should. Did he usually have this high of a tolerance for pain? No matter, as he closed in on his target and was roughly six or seven feet away, he suddenly stopped and unleashed a horizontal Slash technique in Teric's direction. Viral judged figured his opponent would avoid it somehow, and jumped in whatever direction (even if he did not avoid it) Teric seceded to. He followed this movement with a series of short slashes, concentrating on avoiding whatever counter-attack the man might have in store for him. His aim was for the old man's arms and his neck.

[Bloodrose]

Watching Viral's unnatural transformation unfold before his very eyes was one of the most disgusting, and most terrifying things Teric had ever bore witness to in his lifetime. The young man's hair, skin, face, and even his clothes altered themselves in color and appearance until Teric faced his own distorted mirror image. The features were there: the hair, the beard, the eyes, the clothes, but Viral still retained a modicum of his youthful appearance, making his doppelganger image all the more perverse.

You are not me. Teric wanted to shout, as Viral - or whatever he had become - advanced. There was suddenly an overwhelming sense of absurdity on top of the revulsion in Teric's, the real Teric's, gut. Watching a twisted replica of himself charge forward to attack was like being in a dream, and it was only when Viral stopped short and arced back his arm to swing from several feet away that Teric realized the horrible extent of his opponent's metamorphosis.

He's even got my abilities! Teric thought with indignation, even as his battle awareness kicked into high gear. And if he's got my abilities, then it stands to reason that I can figure out what's coming... Attempting to sidestep the slash would have proven pointless, as the horizontal arc emanating from the blade would fan out wide enough to encompass any side-to-side evasion. The key weakness - at least every time Teric has used the meagerly developed skill - was distance, as the power of the arc dissipated rapidly over a short distance...

Shit... The back of Teric's legs struck the low bleacher as he tried to backpedal away from the oncoming strike, having forgotten completely that he had already backed up as far as he could go in his original effort to get away from Viral's feverish grasp. Had he been younger and more agile, Teric might have been able to save himself the fall, but instead he tumbled backwards over the bleacher with a muffled string of curses as the rush of the slash arc passed overhead like a violent gust of wind.

Having successfully avoided his own signature maneuver was no guarantee of safety however, as Viral was right there behind the slash, barreling down on Teric who was now toppled with his legs over the bleacher and scrambling to get up. A furious rain of slashes descended, most of which Teric attempted as best he could to fend off with his thin blade. A couple of the blows found their marks, slicing open the sleeves of his coat, and opening the flesh beneath.

"Viral!" Teric shouted, scrambling to get out of the bleachers as well as out from under his opponent's blows. "Who the hell do you think you are, impersonating me?"

[Abomination]

Viral's blows were being very well deflected, considering the circumstances. His previous hunch about tricky old men was right. In this close-quarter slicing session, he discovered his blade hitting what seemed to be armor under the man's clothing, at least on his chest, as the satisfying slashes at his arms yielded blood. The man's head was clearly given priority with his own blade, but Viral had found that landing any sort of blow in general was difficult. It was as if the man was well versed in this fighting style. Teric scrambled to get away and Viral did not pursue, for a sharp pain came into his head. The man just called him a name he couldn't deny he knew. It also reminded him of the old man's name. Adding to the frustration, the man also called him an impersonator. That wasn't the first time he heard that. In fact, he distinctly remembered his master refer to him in such a manner.

Wait, Viral had no master. He was his own man; a mercenary. He had a job to do!

"Come now, all this chatter is giving me a headache! If you're not going to fight back, at least let me kill you in silence!" Yelled Viral, for some reason desperate to end this as quickly as possible.

Viral ran up the bleachers and sprinted across the flat, wooden board. He jumped down at Teric once he found he could achieve an aerial attack, holding his blade back and prepping another Slash attack. This time, he wanted to make sure the old man's head was severed, and aimed another horizontal Slash at the man's head from an upward angle at a less than two foot range. Upon landing, he would focus primarily on stabbing attacks, with a secondary objective of dislodging the blade from the old man's hands. Attack and parry, attack and parry, constant conditioning of those forces were the basis of his Waterdancing. It would allow him to pour everything into his offense and use speed and grace to dodge any counter-attacks that got through his blade. Unfortunately, he wasn't thinking straight. Such an attack without consideration was very dangerous.

[Bloodrose]

Viral's voice, an almost comical distortion of Teric's own voice, rang in the old man's ears as his opponent taunted and harassed him. I don't honestly talk like that, do I? Teric wanted to ask, but that thought was so horribly detached from the reality of his current situation that it seemed silly to even be thinking it. He was flagging already, his old and worn body straining under the adrenaline and exertions of battle. It was a feeling the retired mercenary hadn't counted on, nor was he accustomed to feeling so diminished after such a short period of time. I'm so horribly out of shape, and wounded to boot! He thought dismally.

The rain of frantic slashes falling on him from above abated as Viral neglected to follow Teric as he scrambled across the floor, desperate to get away. As his opponent took to the bleachers to take the high ground advantage, Teric leapt to his feet as quickly as his disagreeable muscles would allow, and took a defensive stance. At least he doesn't think exactly like me. He breathed in relief as Viral took the air above him. I would have pressed the offensive until the end.

Time seemed to slow around him as Teric followed Viral's flight, watching carefully the way he carried himself though the air and held his blade. Another Slash attack was on the way, of which he was almost certain, as this new Viral's movements and actions so mimicked his own. Any doubt residing deep in the recesses of his mind were fueled by the slight differences that separated the two of them - as though Viral had decided to mirror most of the old warrior's traits but not a certain few. He was still, if ever so slightly, the Viral that started this battle even though he didn't look it.

"Fight fire with fire." Teric might have mumbled, had the time been available to him.

Slash! Rather than wait for the hawk diving atop him from above to make its strike, Teric whipped his arm over and down in a vertical slash-strike that unleashed it's arc along Viral's flight-path. The muscles in his arm burned and ached from the sudden strain, but Teric managed to get the arc off less than seconds before Viral might have unleashed his own. From the five or six foot range rapidly closing between them the strike might not cut the man, or overly hurt him even, but the force of the arc from that distance might at least knock the doppelganger for a loop...

[Abomination]

Viral swooped down, a grin sprawled across his face as he imagined the look on the old man's face after this. His descent was interrupted by a very familiar movement from the old man, and it was too late by the time he realized what it was. He held his sword in front of him, and the Slash knocked it out of his grip and sent it flying all the way to the outside edge of one of the four hallways surrounding the arena, where it hit a suspicious button before falling to the ground. The button was what the monk was talking about: a way to make the fight more interesting. A gate below the concrete blocks began opening up, and the blocks were all falling into deep, boiling water from the middle and out in two directions, causing water to burst through the cracks of all the remaining blocks and for a wave of water to crash into the circular limit of the arena, splashing onto the wooden bleachers. When the gate was opened completely, the blocks came back up as if some flotation device was installed in them, but dipped into the water slowly showing them to be easily plunged by any sort of weight put upon them. Thus, it was dangerous to stand on them for more than a few seconds. Whether or not this was to cause the fighters to battle in a continuous manner was unknown.

As for Viral, after his sword was knocked away the technique continued on its death path and met Viral's upper chest. He lost his breath almost instantly and was sent flying back in the direction he came from, like a bull had headbutted him right in his lungs and heart. He found himself hitting the ground between two of the upper bleachers, his legs landing on the bleachers themselves. From Teric's point of view, he would only see Viral's two legs hanging off a flat seat, for the bleachers had wooden walls between each seat.

The Homunculus was more than shocked from the attack itself; he was astonished at the man who launched it. He immediately knew, from his new sense of perception, that the old man was the true Teric, the true wielder of that technique. He imagined that even if his attack would gone off, it would be dissipated by the better version. The wound in his side reopened, with blood spilling out in bursts. Blood trickled from his upper chest where his shirt was ripped, with a large flesh wound across his chest, even though the strike was mostly blunt. He could tell that his version was nothing more than a cheap imitation. In that moment of clarity, he realized who he was. With that, his perception of reality came into focus and memories flooded his mind. He knew, from Teric's own history, that he was not the real Teric. I know how... how to beat him now... The old man's weaknesses were laid out to him. Was this what it meant to have a full assimilation? Not just copy, but to actively use his opponent's own faults against him. As well as this clearness, he once again found his need to serve his master questionable. This activity was very harmful to his survival, why was he doing it? In fact, why follow such a man who would so carelessly throw Viral to his doom?

This moment of utter self-actualization was interrupted by limitation. The short-term assimilation had ended, and all his facial hair fell off. His hair fell out until his old hairstyle remained, although now silver and four inches long. His eyes turned a blueish-emerald, and his clothes remained their new color, although still very ripped. Finally, his facial features more or less returned to their previous incarnation. His feelings were in disarray as the memories faded from his mind, his knowledge of the man washing away. Any sort of plan he could've mustered now was gone. He tried to get himself up and noticed the sharp pain in his side, and the muscle strain in his arms. Below him, he saw the splotches of blood. He had lost far too much of it already, what was he to do now? His mission was technically over, but he was not content in the least. Could he have beaten this man? He noticed his sword all the way to the corner of the area, and once again cursed the annoyance of such a weapon. An extension of his arm? What sort of extension was it when it fell off so easily? His anger found its way to the surface, and he looked at Teric.

"Let's continue," he stated in his original voice, although now tainted with a slightly raspy accent.

He pulled his right arm back, like he was going to punch Teric, although the old man was clearly very far away from him. An extension of my arm? I'll show you... Suddenly, he punched the air, and found that his punch had not ended. In fact, his entire arm was stretching in an inhuman manner towards Teric. He felt the bones and flesh inside expanding like rubber, and he had to brace his body so that it wasn't dragged with the fist. He could not stop the attack until it hit a block or his actual intended target. This attack was inspired by Teric's Slash attack, although unconsciously. He did not know it yet, but this was the first sign of his inhumanity. He was an object, and his human abilities were merely the result of his human assimilations. His own carnivorous, sharp teeth was proof enough that he could've been entirely demonic.

[Bloodrose]

Wet, wounded, and thoroughly displeased, Teric stared daggers at his young opponent as the man struggled to regain his feet several tiers of bleachers above. Hot beads of water steamed menacingly as they slowly soaked into the thick material of the old warrior's coat, and burned mildly on his scalp through his hair. Normally Teric might have started at the sudden change in his battleground, but the surprise lurking beneath the arena floor was just one more absurdity to heap onto the growing heap of absurdities he had witnessed this day. Besides, the surprise lurking in the bleachers above was far more pressing a matter than the grinding and cracking stones bobbing in the water behind him...

He's gone and transformed again. Teric noted as he took in Viral's third, newest body. He had become a sort of amalgamation it seemed, retaining some of the old warrior's traits while melding back into something resembling his original look. The clothing was still Teric's, and the wounds were still those Teric had inflicted, but there was an odd sort of disassociation in Viral's eyes that was unnerving.

"Let's continue, he says." Teric mumbled low enough so that he was only speaking to himself, tightening his grip around the handle of his weapon. He had shifted the weapon to his left hand, as the blood dripping down his right arm to his fingertips was making his grip slippery.

Watching Viral pull back as if to throw a punch would have been almost comical, were it not for the long list of odd behavior Teric had already seen demonstrated by his opponent. The gap between the two of them was sizeable enough that leaping to punch was out of the question, and other than his transformations, Teric hadn't seen any signs of magical powers in the lad. Forward came Viral's arm, and out stretched the limb like a piece of clay with the man's fist mounted on the end of it.

You have got to be kidding... Teric thought, exasperated. His iron-shod boots gripped tight against the slick, damp floor between the bleachers as the old warrior put his nimble Waterdancing steps to use, sidestepping the gummy arm to the left as it sailed on by uncontrollably, looking for a target. There was a split-second of hesitation in Teric's heart, but as it passed the thin steel of his weapon whipped around in an arc, directed by Teric's hand to swing down and slice through the elongating appendage.

[Abomination]

Viral didn't feel his fist connect with anything. In fact, he couldn't even feel his fist anymore. He was leaning back, his left hand holding his right shoulder which felt like it was about to pop out. The elongated arm returned to him, although there was nothing beyond the middle of his bicep. He stared at the stub in disbelief for a few moments, his mouth open and his eyebrows firmly pressed together. Then, like being pierced by a thousand cold daggers, the realization and pain set in. He thought it was over; he was going to bleed to death. Yet, he found that gallons of blood were not pouring out of his deformed arm. He looked at it closer and saw something odd happening inside. He was more disgusted by this strange activity than the idea of lacking a hand.

His detached fist had hit the ground far behind Teric, causing a dust explosion and sending the dismembered limb into the wall, falling near the sword. Viral concentrated on moving his arm and he felt the feeling of earth. Then, he felt his right hand being cut by something sharp.

I can still feel it? Viral thought, probably slightly less disturbed out about this than Teric. He started flailing his right arm around, attempting to do something, and before he knew it, his sword was flying at him. He caught it by the hilt, and after some one-armed scrambling about, pointed it at Teric. This man meant to cause some serious damage to him, well... more serious damage, although Viral had not factored in that he has been on the offensive this whole time. The Homunculus had not yet considered that other people have feelings and not just desire to control or kill. His right arm pulsed, and his lost the feeling of his fist, however temporary it was. He pulled the malformed limb out of the coat right before it went limp on the inside of it. Whatever had occurred to it had rendered it immobile. His vision became slightly blurry at times, but he shook it off each time. Despite all reason not to, he smiled. A proud, defiant smile fueled by adrenaline and the pain of his wounds. He remembered the feeling, the strangely demonic feeling he inherited from a previous assimilation. His sharp teeth were shown with this wide smile, and in his eyes a flame roared. He lifted his sword, as if to strike down, and right as he chopped down, his right arm lifted itself. Now he had no arm at all, just a small bump from his shoulder. The near-limp appendage would've only served to hinder him. He took off his coat and tossed it asunder, so that nothing would slow him down.

Teric was apparently in no mood to talk to anyone, much less Viral. Despite the assimilation being completed, Viral could feel the disappointment in the old man's eyes. Although, that might just be the annoyance after being dumped into boiling water like some sort of overgrown lobster. Either way, Viral somehow knew what Teric had come here for, and felt compelled to deliver. He didn't know what this feeling was, as he was feeling it for the first time. Sportsmanship? Vengeance? Euphoria? ...Honor? He blamed himself entirely for this whole affair, and wanted nothing more than redemption. This was of course impossible at this point.

The veins in his left arm were almost popping out, the grip on his sword so tight his hand was becoming bruised. He felt like going all-out, and not stopping until one of them would fall. From now on, his body would supply the remainder of its energy. There was nothing he could say to Teric now. Nothing he could say would make this situation any less ridiculous. The only possible conversation he could have was with his sword. He jumped to a lower bleacher, the blood from his boots splattering onto the wood, and once again broke into a sprint towards Teric. With all his wounds, he had a very short time to actually fight before he simply passed out, but he wanted to make it count. To dislodge Teric's blade from his hands was his primary tactic, aiming his sword strikes at various locations. A success of such a plan was questionable, as he had to concentrate hard just to stay awake.

[Bloodrose]

Just give it up. Teric wanted to shout. That Viral had somehow reacquired his sword, a feat that in any other battle might have seemed utterly and ridiculously impossible, registered itself in the old warrior's mind as only a minor inconvenience. It wasn't like Viral, in any of his forms, had demonstrated any decent caliber of skill with the blade whatsoever. The young lad had been doing his best when mimicking Teric himself, and that was before losing an arm...

I'm stuck in a rigged room with a lunatic. He thought, thoroughly frustrated. Watching Viral lop off the remainder of his own arm and then toss aside his coat, a smile plastered across his face, in any other fight would have been terribly unnerving. Atop all of the other ludicrous behavior Viral had demonstrated, though, the move only indicated that the man was preparing for yet another mindless assault. He has absolutely no regard for his own life, or his own body. He's just going to keep coming until one of us is dead...

Back in the day, that thought might not have stirred in Teric the types of feelings that it did in him now. A younger Teric of old would have settled away that knowledge somewhere in the back of his mind and dispatched his callous opponent with due prejudice. As a man grows older though, the value of a life can seemingly increase. Age brings with it a distinct understanding of just how much a man throws away by dying early, and to see someone as young as Viral appeared to be acting so heartless was truly demoralizing.

A man who dies in the Citadel might not stay dead, but not even the greatest monks of the Ai'Brone could fix a man already dead on the inside...

Come on then, you waste... Teric eyed his opponent with an increasingly sympathetic gaze, wiggling the fingers on his right hand. Without words, as words had apparently become meaningless at this juncture, Viral came thundering down the bleachers in another of his typical charges. Up came Teric's hand, outstretched in Viral's direction, as the old man closed his eyes and called to mind the half-assed fireball spell that never resulted in anything resembling a fireball...

Bang! The thunderous crack of air escaping the vacuum created by a failed fireball spell resounded through the arena, ringing in Teric's ears while at the same time a blinding white flash illuminated the backs of his eyelids. As soon as the flash passed Teric's eyes were open again, looking past the smoke with weapon readied to parry in case Viral was neither blinded or stunned by the maneuver...

[Abomination]

The blurry figure of Teric came closer and closer, his figure coming into focus amidst the indistinguishable background terrain. Right as Viral appeared to be within striking range, he heard a sharp, loud cracking noise and his eyes widened for a brief moment before everything turned white and his eyes felt like they were burning. Spinning about, still on one of the lower bleachers, he swung around at an invisible target, his eyes squinting and his teeth gnashing. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the ground beneath him, as he stepped off the bleacher and fell down to the arena below.

His body hit one of the stone blocks hard, and it plopped deep into the boiling water. When the block bobbed back up to the surface, there was no trace of Viral at all. Underneath the blocks, an unconscious Viral floated listlessly. While out like a light, he demonstrated for the second time this battle his subconscious ability to retain techniques used against him. The first time was the metalbending used to retrieve his sword. He had thought that his dismembered hand had somehow tossed the sword to him, but that was a misconception. The unconscious will of his severed arm, right before death, used Luc's technique to bring it back to him.

He had used Luc's Whisper to communicate to Teric in a sort of stream of consciousness, directly into the old man's mind, "Next time... we meet... you'll get... what you wanted..."

A cool silence passed before the next message, but with it came with an aura of malevolence totally unknown to Viral's waking life, "Until then, don't die old man. I plan to return back to you what you have done to me tenfold." They were words followed by a chilling laughter, which slowly quieted into nothing.

The stones slowly stopped bobbing up and down, and the water became still.

[Bloodrose]

Everything I did to him, he brought on himself. Teric reflected. His eyes diligently scanned the bobbing floor of the arena, beneath which Viral's body had mysteriously disappeared. While he had never been one to take the final threats of vanquished enemies very seriously, Teric took Viral's words to heart, tucking them away for later. If that boy gets a handle on himself, and somehow disciplines all of those ridiculous skills of his...he'll be one very dangerous opponent...

Despite half-expecting Viral to reappear, somehow spitting fire from his eyes and lightning from his fingertips, the boy did not. Instead the arena began to shimmer and move as though viewed on a hot, muggy day. Teric looked around carefully, watching for any sudden movements, but instead found himself standing in the main Citadel hall alongside the wrinkled old monk from earlier in the day.

"Woah..." Disoriented from the sudden transition, Teric went to catch himself, and inadvertantly stuck his cane into the ground to regain his balance. Damn it all. The old warrior thought, expecting to see the bent tip of his cane blade. Instead he found his cane mysteriouly put back together, and completely unharmed.

"Nice to see you in one piece." The Ai'Brone said pleasantly, smiling. "Did you enjoy your return to the Citadel?"

"Enjoy wouldn't be my word of choice." Teric retorted. "If I never run into someone the likes of Viral again, it will be to soon..."

[Abomination]

Some time passed after Teric left. The monks couldn't quite find Viral with their magic, so they assumed he either melted away or somehow left on his own. After all, it wasn't unusual for fighters here to have their own transportation abilities. Using their strange abilities, the monks cleaned the arena up and restored it good as new, all except for the device Viral accidentally triggered, which they preferred to simply reverse by triggering it once more. As one monk went to push the button, his acutely refined external senses noticed a disturbance. He looked back at the arena and noticed that the blocks were smacking against each other, with bursts of water escaping between them. The monk began to wonder if there was something down there, after all. He suddenly felt it. Someone was down there.

Before he could intervene, he saw a mound rise out of the watery arena near the edge, the blocks rising as if a huge cone was pushing them up from underneath. Then, the block at the tip of the cone launched itself high up into the air, crashing into the bleachers and tearing them in half, wood pieces and splinters flying in all directions. The water settled, and in the hole near the edge where the block once was, a red right hand came out reaching, and dropped down to meet and grasp the ground along the edge of the arena. Grabbing the earth below, the arm was followed by the rest of Viral's body and his other arm. All his clothes appeared to be melted off, and his figure was entirely intact with all wounds healed. His red skin appeared to be more demonic than the result of any boiling, and it glistened in the sunlight like a jewel. He lied there, taking deep breaths, his upper body half lying on the ground while the rest of him was still underwater. His eyes were completely white.

The monk quickly ran over to him and checked out the situation, seeking to restore him to his previous form. He thought it was extremely odd that he could not detect him underwater before. Was he in a different form entirely down there, or was he somehow connected to the water? Also, what was that burst of strength just now? The monk, of course, was not concerned with such conjectures. His job, as well as all monks, was to be a simple observer and healer. This sort of healing would not be instant, though.

While it would take a bit of time to heal Viral of his present condition, in the end, his equipment was not entirely restored. His body appeared as it was at the end of his latest assimilation. While his clothes, with Teric's added marking of color of course, were brought back, his sword was conspicuously missing. It had been a while since Teric left, so they did not know if he took it or not, and it was not left back in the arena. They decided to leave him without it, unaware that it was with him already... assimilated within his body.

[Call me J]

For those of you who don’t like suspense, Bloodrose is the winner of this battle. It was a good thread between two unique characters, and it made for an enjoyable read because of its uniqueness. Well done both of you.

Bloodrose- 58.5

• STORY ~ 15/30

Continuity (6) ~ I got a really good sense of your character early on, and I liked the way that he thought about his past experiences before eventually deciding that it would be better that he said nothing about them. It really helped me understand the degree of change that your character was facing, and the degree to which he was out of his depths. The way you ended this thread was a bit weak in terms of communicating what it meant for Teric in a larger context. You made it clear he found Viral frustrating, but outside of that, the implications of the battle were left unsaid.

Setting (6) ~ I really liked the way that you had a good sense of where your character was in this battle, especially when he fell down the bleachers. I would have liked a little more strategic calculation by Teric after the first few posts, especially since you made it clear that his experience and cunning were going to be his advantages over Viral.

Pacing (3) ~ I really don’t feel you did a good job of having much, if any, flow to this battle. You seemed to be letting Homunculus do all of the story telling, which is not a good thing. A good battle has two characters writing a story together, with both of them bringing their character’s behavior into the thread.

• CHARACTER ~ 18.5/30

Dialogue (5.5) ~ I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to give you a five or a six here, so I split the difference. I found the verbal dialogue to be quite average in many ways, but I did like that it conveyed your character’s frustrations. Also, I would have liked it better if your emotions had been reflected in non-verbal communication also.

Action (7) ~ My only real complaint here relates a bit to continuity, but I felt that for the most part, Teric was only reacting to the behavior that Viral had exhibited in the last post. I felt that you didn’t really consider much how the beginning of the battle was going to affect Teric, outside of his mounting frustration. This is a somewhat minor issue, but I have to harp on the minor issues here because this was a pretty strong category for you. You have a character who, as an old man, has some constraints many others don’t face, but you have a very good understanding of the advantages and disadvantages he should have over a more youthful character.

Persona (6) ~ I like Teric. He is a unique character and the kind of person we want on the forum. However, I feel that you really left far too much unexplained here, and that a few more details here and there could have really pumped the score up. There is a point where details can damage pacing, but you’re nowhere near there yet.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 19/30

Mechanics (8) ~ You seem to have a good command of the English language. The few mistakes I saw seemed more like careless little errors than severe ones.

Technique (2) ~ I felt you could have been more adventurous here. Try to use literary devices, with time you’ll find that they’re quite easy and rewarding.

Clarity (9) ~ I found that your posts were always very clear and succinct. The only reason I didn’t give you a full ten in this category was because I felt sometimes you erred for brevity over story. This is not the way you want to be brief.

• Wild Card (6) ~ Overall, I would say you have a good command of your character, but you need to work on your storytelling. This isn’t a flaw that you can’t overcome with time. I look forward to reading your threads when you’ve managed to do this.

Homunculus- 57

• STORY ~ 18/30

Continuity (8) ~ You did a really good job at this throughout the thread. I really loved the way you brought in your character’s past experiences.

Setting (4) ~ While you described a physical setting, it didn’t really factor into your thread. It almost seemed as you picked the setting that you did so it wouldn’t play a part in your thread. Why deny yourself a tool that you can use to make your story better?

Pacing (6) ~ I feel you did a much better job of pacing here. I generally felt like there was a concrete story you were trying to tell and it progressed with every post you made. Well done.

• CHARACTER ~ 18/30

Dialogue (4) ~ I was less than impressed with the dialogue here, especially considering how fun dialogue can be for Viral. Here it wasn’t really even clear if his assimilations affected his speech patterns at all. At times it seems like you were trying to copy Teric, but then you either got lazy, or that wasn’t what you were trying to do. I feel like you have something that can be really neat if it’s what you’re going for, but the execution wasn’t as great as it could have been.

Action (7) ~ This was a very strong area for you. I really loved the way that Viral ended up with the accidental Mr. Fantastic punch. It was both funny and completely in character.

Persona (7) ~ Viral is a very strong character and you’re developing a good sense of how to play him.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 15/30

Mechanics (6) ~ There were a bunch of spelling mistakes here, and none of them were the ones that spell check would have caught. Normally, I don’t really take points away for this, but you made quite a few of them in inopportune places, such as had vs has.

Technique (2) ~ See Bloodrose’s comment for this category.

Clarity (7) ~ I didn’t have that many problems here, but sometimes it seemed like you were cramming a few too many ideas into the same paragraph in a way that required me to reread paragraphs just to make sure I could figure out what was going on. This wasn’t a perpetual problem, but it poked up a few times.

• Wild Card (6) ~ This is another character I very much like. One of the real treats of this battle was seeing two unique characters going against each other.

Spoils

Bloodrose receives 525 EXP and 110 GP
Homunculus receives 150 EXP and 150 GP

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!