Xeonon Solomon
The First Order
Posts: 2,206
Affiliation: First Order
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Post by Xeonon Solomon on Jan 1, 2014 13:50:02 GMT -8
Who: Lord Nexus vs. Miras
Where: A dull wind blows the sand in waves across the arena floor as the crowd stamps it's feet in impatience to see this match. Normal people taking time out of their day to watch as two men fight and die for their pleasure. There was intensity in the air, an electric feeling of surging bloodlust running through the audience turned mob. The Durasteel walls stand high and strong with Togorian Headhunters standing atop them, more to prevent rioting than to keep cowardly fighters within the arena. Spreading inward from the walls the sands are riddled with rocks of all sizes and shapes, potential weapons or hiding places for some. And in the center sits the emblem of the Xendorian Guard, polished and smooth, visible from any corner of the arena. At either end of the arena doors open to elevators which lead below to the armory and storage area for the arena. Standing out from the seats the judges dias looks down upon the field, obscured in shadow but lurking figures sit in waiting, holding the lives of the competitors in the palm of their hands. This was a place of blood and combat, a place where fate was tested by those who dare to challenge it. This was the Airéine na Comhrac Dorchadas.
Rules: Lightsabers Only, No Armor, Top Ten Force,
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Miras
Member
Posts: 91
Affiliation: Watchmen
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Post by Miras on Jan 30, 2014 13:49:35 GMT -8
The chanting of the spectators reverberated in Miras' chest as he stepped out of the turbolift and into the circular pit. Grinding a heel into the sand to get a feel for his footing, the Jedi advanced toward the center of the arena. Gray eyes cast about aimlessly, endlessly observing, analyzing, and filing away details for later use. The crowd was in a frenzy of bloodlust, screaming for their champions. Men and women of all ages jumped and jostled one another and fought to get closer to the ring. With a snort of disdain, Miras noted that the murder in their hearts would be a powerful tool, should one decide to use it. He took a deep breath, letting his eyelids droop for a fraction of a second as he retreated inward, finding his center and forcing himself to focus. He didn't need to be distracted with such temptation while in battle.
Rolling his neck first and then his shoulders, the Jedi loosened his scrawny frame, prepping himself for combat. Dressed in his usual attire- a Modal Nodes t-shirt, baggy cargo shorts, and sneakers- he didn't exactly cut the most intimidating of figures. Still, he exuded an air of intensity, and his somber gray eyes glittered with an anger that surged just beneath the surface. His lightsaber was clipped on his right hip, and his DL-44 blaster pistol was holstered on his left, but he neglected to reach for either. Instead he opted to first see what he was dealing with, and then formulate an appropriate strategy.
Miras opened himself to the force, attuning himself to its fluctuations and nuances. Its ebbs and flows were as familiar to him as his own body, and in that way he prepared it for use. Emotionless gaze settling on the opposite entrance, the Jedi awaited his opponent.
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