This post opens the second round of the Member's Choice Tournament!
We have Nine participants who fought tooth and nail to win the previous round and are still fighting to see which fighter is the best! We wish all of our contestants the best of luck! The winner contestant moves on to the next match, the losing member will be given a consolation prize. In the event that this match does last until the end date, the members will decide which members moves on. There is a 3 day [72 hours] time limit between posts.
Something strange was happening above the Coliseum. Black clouds were gathering at an unusually fast rate, what on earth could be going on up there? Fear not, you wont have to ponder for long. After completely smothering the sky, the black clouds would spontaneously burst into a dazzling shade of gold! The golden clouds would begin to stretch and churn before finally bursting to reveal a magnificent tangle of golden circles with strange text in an unknown language swirling around them. The entangled circles spiraled upwards to create a mountain of sorts, and on top of this mountain sat a knight in golden armor upon a jewel encrusted throne. The knight looked down to the arena below, and spoke down to the combatants within. They would not have trouble hearing him, his voice was booming and clearer than a mid-day spring.
"Greetings, salutations, hello! I couldn't help but notice that you are having a little battle royal down here, and well I just had to come down and tell you that you're doing it all wrong! This arena you're fighting in, it's so...straight forward! Just looking at this environment of yours put me to sleep! And so I have decided to help you! From now on, every round shall be under my watchful eye! Each of you shall now fight in distinct arenas of my choosing! Isn't-That-GRAND!? Yes, yes it is! So be prepared, and preform well! I shall be watching!"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Knight's Throne shall remain in the sky for the rest of the tournament. Each match shall now have a unique arena.
ELSA AND SILV YOUR ARENA HAS BEEN CHOSEN!
Only moments after the two combatants would enter the normal battle arena, the entirety of Olympus Coliseum would fade and be replaced by a Gothic temple that resembled The Interior of a Catholic Church. The two opponents would stand in between the rows of stone pews as pale lights shined down from the multitude of bizarre stained glass windows that lined the walls. At the front of the temple stood an alter, and over looking the alter stood a grotesque gargoyle statue, its right claw outstretched as if expecting an offering.
So the second round had come. Silv was definitely glad she had gotten back in a tournament and the last round simply did not... cut it. The girl was a natural evasion expert if anything, but Silv preferred a more straightforward style of fighting. As such, reading the next name... A Queen? Someone named Elsa was her next opponent, was this like a paladin sort of Queen or the kind of weaklings some people have.
As she thought about it, the Archduke, Kam’lanaut, was a grand fighter, so perhaps this was something similar. Bah, like I can think of what sort I will fight here, Silv didn’t care much longer and moved towards the arena. Having entered, she watched for the next opponent to come.
When things were set, suddenly something appeared in the sky and some guy in a throne appeared. What now? She did recall the matches where things happened, like some kinds of magic being blocked or one of your senses were blocked, was this something similar? But no, suddenly the arena changed around them and what was a moment ago an arena was now the inside of... a church? You place a Heartless, a being of Darkness, a murderer and a destroyer at that, in a freaking church?
Darkness started to be gathered in Silv’s axe as she started preparing the Dark Beleaguer. “Well, whichever,” she supposed as she looked around and raised an eyebrow at the statue, “your offering will be your destruction,” she said with a grin. It did make the girl wonder how anyone was spectating with the ceiling in place.
She stood at the threshold to the arena, her arms wrapped around herself, the thick stone walls of the lobby surrounding her lit only by the gentle flickering of a pair of torches, one on each end. The dim orange light caught on the shards of ice that made up the front of her corset, making them flash and sparkle in ways she felt she did not. And yet shone she had, somehow, with the judges of her first match against the noble and chivalrous Judge Magister Zargabaath. Shone she had despite her attempted murder on half the audience when she’d sent that stone pillar crashing into the stands. Shone she had even when she’d broken her fingers and found herself pinned beneath her opponent.
Shone she had, he’d said, the night he took her out to dinner with a smile and the same grace he’d shown her in the Coliseum. Grace that reminded her of home, of Anna… of her kingdom. Of where she should be and what she should be doing, neither of which involved being here, doing this, standing at the mouth of the arena for a second time trying to prove something to herself that wouldn’t even matter to her if she were back in Arendelle.
What was she still doing here?
“Y’alright, kiddo?” asked the satyr from where he stood, leaning against the wall opposite her. “They’re waitin’ for yah.”
She glanced at him. She took him in for a moment, eyeing his stubby little legs — those of a horse — though she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to let the image really sink in. She looked back to the arena, eyes narrowing through the sunlight at her opponent, who was just emerging from the opposite gate. She sighed heavily and nodded.
“Go get ‘em,” he said, offering a smile and gesturing towards the battlefield.
She hesitated. For a moment, she wanted only to rest against the stone, feel the movement of her newly repaired fingers against her side, but she knew she couldn’t. She stepped out onto the arena, her arms still folded across her front, head tilted down so that her eyes could watch the slow procession of stones as she walked. She glanced up at her opponent as she came to a stop at the edge of the intended battlefield, as she had against Zargabaath, and saw that she was a woman with long, silver hair and functional clothing.
The crowds cheered wildly for her — she could hear the familiar chants of “Elsa! Elsa! Elsa!” amidst a wave of other shouts, cries and whistles. She glanced up to them now, and with a pang of guilt realized the change: much of the audience had split into four equidistant segments on both sides of the arena, leaving empty spaces where the four stone pillars lining each side of the battlefield could potentially fall if another attack like her Ice Shield charging against them sent them falling into the crowds as one had in her last match.
She didn’t notice the ice spreading out from her feet at the sight, creeping across the stones to start building its web of destruction anew.
She scanned the audience, hoping once again that she’d spot the face she looked for everywhere — on the streets of every world she visited, in the darkness before she went to sleep at night, in her dreams… when nightmares didn’t plague her. She caught the faces of mothers holding their children, toughened men sitting stoically amidst gaggles of chattering teenagers in long, flowing white outfits and figures wearing helmets and armour — perhaps guards or armed forces from the city — before she found him, sitting near the front with his men. Zargabaath, his flowing hair falling over his face and steel-blue eyes shining in the sunlight. He was watching her, calmly, sat back in his chair amidst his ‘chaps’ as he called them, his hands in his lap, just below her eye level.
She gave him a small smile. He returned it and lifted one of his hands to reveal something long and thin, topped by a crimson bulb trapped between his fingers.
She caught his gaze and when she did, he stood just as calmly, tipped the pointed end of the flower towards her and, with a practiced flick, sent the rose flying down over the few rows in front of him to an excited cheer from the crowd. The rose found its mark, and landed just a few feet from her own. Her smile widened minutely as she bent down to pick it up, raising it to her nose to smell its sweet scent before glancing back up at him. He only nodded.
She swept the audience for the only other person she knew was here. Aerynn, the aegyl she’d met in Traverse Town what felt like ages ago, with whom she’d had the pleasure of spending some time aboard Zargabaath’s ship over the last week, resting and recovering. There was no sign of her in the audience, however, and as Elsa’s eyes continued to sweep the crowds in search of her, slowly turning her body so as to be able to glance the entire arena, she caught her at the last moment — sitting atop the entrance from which she’d just exited onto the arena, staring down at her. She locked eyes with the girl. They stared at each other for what, she was sure, felt a lot longer than it actually was before, hesitantly, the aegyl lifted one of her wings.
Elsa only nodded before turning back to her opponent.
When things began to change, Elsa wasn’t quite sure how to take it all. The clouds went from a dark grey to a dazzling gold in mere seconds. Soon, a knight in golden armour rose above the Coliseum, sitting tall and proud on the throne atop the mountain that now loomed over Athens, voice booming as he decreed the arena unfit for his amusement. She barely had time to process this as walls, tall, crumbling and ancient, rose up around them, glass shrieking its way into existence as massive, circular windows carved themselves into the sides of their new surroundings, blocking out the screams and shouts of the audience entirely. As a roof formed overhead, blocking out any light that didn’t stream in through the colourful displays, Elsa found herself looking towards her opponent across long lines of stone pews.
The ice that had escaped her feet at seeing the crowds divided as they were had never stopped. In fact, they’d only accelerated, unbeknownst to Elsa, who was so used to the tingling she felt beneath her skin as ice coursed through her body and too absorbed in her guilt and her search for her friends that she’d failed to notice it. And now, as she stood alone, face-to-face with her opponent — Silv, she recalled seeing on the roster — in the semi-darkness of the church, the lengths to which her magic had gone on its own betrayed itself.
A quarter of the church, from the ceiling they couldn’t see through the darkness, down the dismal walls to the uneven stone floor was covered in a thick layer of glistening ice.
1. Elsa's apprehension about the battle activates her Flurry ability, which covers one quarter of the church interior in a thick layer of frost and ice. This reflects her emotions but otherwise does no damage nor does it dramatically affect the surrounding area. Passive ability.
Slowly her axe was lowered as her eyes went bigger, "are you turning this entire place into ice? Are you some kind of skater despite the dress?" she asked somewhat skeptical. Her eyes went over all the ice on the other side, it was easy enough to break, sure, but if things kept getting frozen, the former merchant didn't want to find out.
No, Silv instead, preferred the straightforward manner of combat, not that that seemed quite possible if you were sliding around. Sure, she could slide and attack, but the chances were that she would slide to the other side of the place before she could turn back, which wasn't such a nice thing. I'm not a stupid ranged fighter, she thought annoyed, despite having ranged techniques and spells.
Since while the battle had begun the girl had only been freezing her part of the cathedral, Silv walked forward and stepped onto the ice that had formed around Elsa. Since she wasn't exactly hurrying, she didn't see the chances of sliding off that quickly, she placed her axe behind her head with one arm as Darkness gathered around and into her axe for the Dark Beleaguer. Placing her other arm over the handle, she held the axe well placed behind her head as she walked calm towards Elsa.
"You're a caster, yes? What's with the dress?" Silv was quite open as things were.
As the roof closed over their heads, the sounds of the audience were drowned out by the walls and silence fell over the two of them — silence interrupted only by the low groans and cracks of her ice as it continue to spread, creeping across the floor, walls and ceiling as Elsa stood, her eyes locked on her opponent, trying to process what had just happened. Where had that golden knight come from? What was did he aim to achieve by interfering in the tournament? From the gasps that had risen from the crowd, it wasn’t something their spectators had been expecting either. The thought did little to ease the storm that whirred around her heart, fuelled by her fear and shock, which held her in place, frozen, atop a web of her own ice on her side of the cathedral. Her free hand raised to her chest, fingers curling around the material.
In the newfound silence, she could hear her breath, feel it, as her chest rose and fell rather quickly beneath her hand, the frightened rasps that escaped her lips not likely to go unheard in the dead emptiness of the air that filled the cathedral. Her eyes slipped away from her opponent’s, turning instead to the haphazard array of stones that made up the cathedral floor.
Conceal, don’t feel… don’t let her know what you can do… don’t let her see your fear… she told herself, trying to beat the raging storm that ensnared her heart into submission, to pull herself away from the panic that had overwhelmed her at the knight’s arrival in the sky and the sudden shift of environments that had reminded her too much of being pulled away from home, of familiar surroundings suddenly being torn away, much like her defences and comforts had been since she was thrown into this mess.
How many times already had she been tricked so far on this journey of hers? How many times had she been manipulated? Tempted by offers that promised everything she wanted and more, only to be pulled into darkness once again to be used and tormented? Why did the world want nothing more than to see her suffer… over, and over, and over again?
Instinctively, she took a step back. The sound her heel made as it came down onto her own sheet of ice let a shrill ting fill the cathedral, captured by the silence that had swallowed them and made ten times louder in its wake, much like it had her breath. She gasped softly, stopping herself. Her eyes flicked back up to her opponent, widening slightly. She could feel her heart jump and pound in her chest. Ice creaked somewhere high above them as her powers continued to encroach on her opponent’s side of the church, slowly reaching closer and closer as it spread, pulling itself along the length of the wall as it aimed to claim a whole half of the church.
It’s alright… it’s alright… she thought. Everything is fine, Elsa… this is a good thing. The church walls will protect the audience… your ice can go wherever it wants, it’s not going to hurt anyone but your opponent… remember what you’re here for. What you’re trying to prove.
That’s right. She was here to prove something… wasn’t she? Advancing to the next round, beating Zargabaath—
She glanced down at her hand. The rose, still resting gingerly between her fingertips, glowed through the sheen of ice that had enveloped it, even in the semi-darkness of the church’s Gothic interior. She stared down at it, turning it gently to examine the bud’s lush red petals and brilliant green stem through the ice. It was beautiful… almost too beautiful, as if it had been plucked from a painting, the likes of which had lined many a hallway back in the royal castle of Arendelle. She'd ruined those with her ice, too.
She wasn’t sure why, even now, he reminded her of it. Of home. Perhaps it was his mannerisms: the way he bowed to her out of respect, the chivalrous way in which he’d pinned her down in their match so that she wouldn’t hurt herself against his armour or the way, in the midst of their fight, he’d invited her out to dinner… which, to her surprise, she’d enjoyed and managed to get through — for the most part — without her powers running rampant.
When he’d invited her to stay aboard his ship for the remainder of the tournament, she hadn’t been sure what to think. Enclosing herself in a giant, floating airship with no easy way back down to the ground had been a tough pill to swallow at first. She could still remember her first, panicked thoughts when he’d mentioned it over dinner: What would happen if she suddenly found herself getting uncomfortable and frost started to slip out from her feet? What would happen if she had nightmares and her demons coated her room — or worse, the entire ship — with her ice? She had thought of declining, of slipping away at the end of the night to disappear into the nearby woods and construct a place to sleep out of ice, as she usually did upon arrival in new worlds, but… there was something enticing about his offer. Something about being in his company, knowing that he respected her and understood her want, her need to prove to herself that she was capable of using her powers for good and to protect those she could… had coaxed her to lower her defences, to reach out when she would have normally shied away… to accept his offer, and allow herself to be whisked away into the sky.
She gazed down at the rose and smiled softly, remembering the supportive words he’d left her with as he and the chaps delivered her to the arena.
Thank you, she thought to herself. To him. For believing in me… and for giving me this chance.
She nodded to herself.
She took a deep breath.
I won’t let you down…
She gripped the frozen rose tightly for a moment, before throwing her hand out to the side, letting go. The rose glided gracefully through the air as it arched to the floor, landing with a clink and rolling upon impact to rest against the wall.
… either of you.
Her ice groaned to a halt just short of freezing half of the cathedral. By now, many rows of stone pews had been covered entirely in a thick, glossy sheen, ice reaching over the backrests and gliding down over armrests and benches to hang in long, pointed icicles, transforming the pews from simple seats into works of art — beautiful, frigid and deadly works of art. Ice, undeterred in its ambition to claim everything its frosty fingers could reach, had climbed up the massive stone pillars that rose to hold up the ceiling, encased the vicar’s box in a cube that stuck out from the wall of the nave and even turned the second floor balcony, the likes of which made its way around the entirety of the church, into a miniature speed-skating rink.
She pulled her gaze away from the flower, steeled by Zargabaath’s words and her own promises, to come to rest in earnest on her opponent, who was speaking to her, her eyes wide, mighty axe hanging at her side as she approached Elsa. The Snow Queen watched as her opponent — a woman of respectable height with long, silver hair, colourful clothes — or was it armour? Before, she’d called them “functional,” but upon closer inspection, the woman wore what looked like armoured pads over her shoulders — crossed the length of the church towards her, slowing as she approached the encroaching sheet of ice.
At the woman’s words, Elsa only frowned slightly, fighting the urge to look away, to keep her guilt in check. She scrambled to push away thoughts of the ball room back home, covered in thick layers of ice not unlike those that threatened to envelope the cathedral, on the night that ruined her life.
“It just… sort of happens,” she said, opening and closing the hand at her side. The other remained clutched at the fabric over her chest. She allowed a little smile to cross her lips. “But I don’t mind skating at all.”
One foot, then another came down onto the ice as the woman carefully and firmly planted herself in place, checking her balance and traction. Then she raised her axe up behind her head.
Elsa’s eyes widened. Her eyes were drawn to the axe, massive, shining and deadly sharp, sucking in darkness from every nook and cranny in which it resided — which, given the size of the cathedral, the fact that darkness completely shielded the roof and that every little shadow cast by the pews, the columns and the alter only contributed not only to the horrific atmosphere of the place but also, it seemed, to the strength of her opponent’s weapon.
She took another step back, ignoring the ringing of her heels against the ice as the woman approached, walking in confident strides now that she’d stabilized herself on the ice, weapon raised with deadly intent above her head.
“Stay away,” said Elsa, her voice rattling more than she would have liked, as she raised her free hand towards the woman. Anxious to restore the distance she’d once enjoyed, the Snow Queen lowered her hand before lifting it up into the air, conjuring an Ice Shield before her. Without hesitation, she threw her hand forward again, a burst of icy magic firing from her palm and striking the Shield. Hurtled into motion from the strike, the Ice Shield flew across the sheet of ice that now covered almost half of the cathedral floor at a remarkable speed, heading straight for Silv. If it hit, the thick sheet of ice would collide against the woman, potentially causing damage or an injury depending on where it struck on her body, before pushing her back along the ice the way she’d come, propelled by the strength of Elsa’s icy jet, all the way back to the stairs that led to the alter, potentially forcing her to fall back and injure herself on the steps. If it failed to hit, the Ice Shield would continue along the ice, past the woman, until it slid down the centre aisle, collided with the bottom step that led to the alter, fall against the steps and shatter into a thousand glittering pieces.
Either way, Elsa would take another step back and a few more deep breaths, her eyes glancing up between the many pillars, arches and pews that lined the length of the cathedral. She had an idea… though she wasn’t quite sure how well she wanted it to work.
1. Elsa conjured an Ice Shield, a thick slab of spiked ice, in front of her. She then used a simple but powerful icy jet to propel the Shield in Silv’s direction. It will travel faster on the ice and has a high chance of knocking Silv off-balance and to the floor if it hits. If it does strike her, it will carry her, by means of the jet, into the steps in front of the alter, potentially causing damage.
Her stare became more dull as she watched the opposing woman. Even from the sound of things, Silv would assume the girl was more here for 'fun' than for a match. She didn't even look much for a fighter, "then go skating, not fighting. Or want me to send you off flying to whatever frozen place you came from?" She asked, complete with disgust in her voice.
The woman was moving a bit back when Silv was getting nearer until she suddenly spawned a shield with a command to her to 'stay away'. It's not a fight if we stayed away, she flipped her axe back from her back, assuming she could just continue and maybe even go around the shield when it started moving. "Shields are for defense, not that I care," she said as she raised her arm, creating an orb in her hand. Then clutching her hand together, crushing the orb as she made her hand a fist, a powerful shockwave was sent all around Silv. Since Dark Seed didn't cause any movement for herself, she wouldn't exactly slip away.
While having performed this trick, she kept holding up her arm as her fist became a palm and she spun it. Leaving tracks of Darkness, she suddenly fired a stream of Darkness towards the shield that was crumbling from the shockwave and further away behind it: Elsa. Her Memory of Dark shot through the shield, destroying it and continued its way towards the Queen in a straight line. Her entire concept of combat was straightforward after all.
The axe in her other arm kept on gathering Darkness throughout the ordeal.
action i. used dark seed to halt and destroy part of the shield action ii. used memory of dark to destroy the shield and attack elsa action iii. continued charging dark beleaguer
active dark beleaguer - 3 post charged
cooldowns dark seed - 3 posts memory of dark - 2 posts
TAGS: elsa NOTES: before i made this post i asked elsa on whether the attacks would destroy the shield, she told me yes, so this is with elsa's approval
Queen Elsa has failed to post within the 72 hour post limit.
Queen Elsa's loss has been recorded.
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After years of fighting, a calm eventually washed over the worlds with the death of the previous threats. However, those walls of peace were all crashing down with the warning of a future threat. Though, the warning comes with much skepticism.
Could every keyblader be destroyed?
We'd like to announce our newest Staff member, Zidane! He has been accepted as out new graphic mod! Congratulations!
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She knows all controls all. Beware of her witchcraft!