onyx tests ish
Jul 5, 2016 5:22:01 GMT -5
Post by Onyx on Jul 5, 2016 5:22:01 GMT -5
F l i n t A r c hD i s t r i c t 1 | C a r e e r | S i x t e e n
When he retrieved his free hand back, it still had red, crimson blood on it. The bleeding had slowed now. Flint grunted when he took a step, pain still flared from his leg. But, after a few more steps, he adapted to move against it. He regained his earlier stance, one grasping the handle of his sword tightly. "Everything suits me, honey. See how hot I look when I am soaked." His grin only grew wider every time he spoke. "And, that was such a dirty move but I guess it makes us even." Flint knew that she clearly understood his words, the implication in it. And with that, he charged again. But, the thought of her knowing him better did not really occur into his head. Perhaps it was because of the pain and the need to attack her again. It was even now but he wanted more, being even did not satisfy him nor, he guessed, his mentor.
Every step was heavy and painful. The wound stung between his steps but as he got nearer to his opponent, the pain went numb. His teeth was gritted, two front ones looking like fangs when he parted his lips to let out a battle yell, right before he strike at her. He had always enjoyed how much duels seem to look like dances. Their feet planted steadily to the ground while their swords, bedazzling under the cool raindrops. Numerous light beams bounced off from the metal surface of his sword during his way towards her.
If they were placed to engage in combat inside an ordinary, normal arena, he would have felt as if he was weary. But, the rain refreshed him every single time. Water splatters when his feet lands on the ground and every slash seems to have sliced the water particles in the air. He swung his blade vertically, a quick, incoming slash from beneath. He thought, for a second, that he saw blood split into the air and blend with the pure rain water.
"Oh, that's why I thought that I smelled alcohol when I first came here" He replied, his words clearly mocking her name. His tone was the same as before, taunting with a blend of sarcasm. "And, fourteen years is a looong time. You must be getting old and rusty." He recalled that she had told him that. As soon as the words left his lips, they crooked into a smirk, just an attempt to the other snap back with an angry retort.
My mouth will be the death of me, He thought to himself, but it will be worth it. His eyes were remained on Qila.
His gaze was steady on his opponent yet burning with the flames of excitement combined with competitiveness. It was something that always rise inside his chest and appears inside his eyes before he walks into a battle. He doesn't consider it as a weak point, it was quite the opposite. The feeling drove him to cling tight to his main goal- winning -and this enhanced the swings of his swords, his agility and endurance. He felt relentless, not having the need to rest till he achieved his goals. The excitement, on the other hand, made the duels more enjoyable.
Then, his feet strode towards her. Perhaps she had been caught off guard. He had done the attack and at the moment, she seems to have re-entered her body from her imaginary land of sarcasm and had taken into knowledge, the crimson gash on her shoulder. Not wasting any time, he stepped back, just to escape a quick swing of her sword that she could've made anytime now. Seeing the plastered smile on her face fade, created one on his. His sword still outstretched besides him, he chuckled lightly. "Hey now, no hard feelings, alright?"
The change was fast: from smiling sarcastically at him to a tempered growl like a wild animal. It impressed him even although the expression on his face did not imply it. His smirk had decreased into a smug smile. Then, as if within a blink, pain flared up from his right leg.When his eyes opened, he was greeted by a dazzling flash and the sight of the sick gash on his right calf. Flint winced and screamed- rather in surprise than pain -she was swift. The smile on his face died, only a few seconds, before growing into something more: a grin.
"Impressive." He said, accompanied by a chuckle from himself. His free hand had flew automatically to apply pressure on the injury. The water helped him in this situation. The raindrops washed down the red blood from the wound and it slipped out of his fingers: a large volume of crimson liquid. Blood combined with water made it easily seem like he was losing a large quantity of blood. The dark red water was beneath him in a mini puddle that was beginning to spread. His palm pressed the wound and he bit his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a cry. A coppery, metallic taste started to appear in his mouth.
My mouth will be the death of me, He thought to himself, but it will be worth it. His eyes were remained on Qila.
His gaze was steady on his opponent yet burning with the flames of excitement combined with competitiveness. It was something that always rise inside his chest and appears inside his eyes before he walks into a battle. He doesn't consider it as a weak point, it was quite the opposite. The feeling drove him to cling tight to his main goal- winning -and this enhanced the swings of his swords, his agility and endurance. He felt relentless, not having the need to rest till he achieved his goals. The excitement, on the other hand, made the duels more enjoyable.
Then, his feet strode towards her. Perhaps she had been caught off guard. He had done the attack and at the moment, she seems to have re-entered her body from her imaginary land of sarcasm and had taken into knowledge, the crimson gash on her shoulder. Not wasting any time, he stepped back, just to escape a quick swing of her sword that she could've made anytime now. Seeing the plastered smile on her face fade, created one on his. His sword still outstretched besides him, he chuckled lightly. "Hey now, no hard feelings, alright?"
The change was fast: from smiling sarcastically at him to a tempered growl like a wild animal. It impressed him even although the expression on his face did not imply it. His smirk had decreased into a smug smile. Then, as if within a blink, pain flared up from his right leg.When his eyes opened, he was greeted by a dazzling flash and the sight of the sick gash on his right calf. Flint winced and screamed- rather in surprise than pain -she was swift. The smile on his face died, only a few seconds, before growing into something more: a grin.
"Impressive." He said, accompanied by a chuckle from himself. His free hand had flew automatically to apply pressure on the injury. The water helped him in this situation. The raindrops washed down the red blood from the wound and it slipped out of his fingers: a large volume of crimson liquid. Blood combined with water made it easily seem like he was losing a large quantity of blood. The dark red water was beneath him in a mini puddle that was beginning to spread. His palm pressed the wound and he bit his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a cry. A coppery, metallic taste started to appear in his mouth.
When he retrieved his free hand back, it still had red, crimson blood on it. The bleeding had slowed now. Flint grunted when he took a step, pain still flared from his leg. But, after a few more steps, he adapted to move against it. He regained his earlier stance, one grasping the handle of his sword tightly. "Everything suits me, honey. See how hot I look when I am soaked." His grin only grew wider every time he spoke. "And, that was such a dirty move but I guess it makes us even." Flint knew that she clearly understood his words, the implication in it. And with that, he charged again. But, the thought of her knowing him better did not really occur into his head. Perhaps it was because of the pain and the need to attack her again. It was even now but he wanted more, being even did not satisfy him nor, he guessed, his mentor.
Every step was heavy and painful. The wound stung between his steps but as he got nearer to his opponent, the pain went numb. His teeth was gritted, two front ones looking like fangs when he parted his lips to let out a battle yell, right before he strike at her. He had always enjoyed how much duels seem to look like dances. Their feet planted steadily to the ground while their swords, bedazzling under the cool raindrops. Numerous light beams bounced off from the metal surface of his sword during his way towards her.
If they were placed to engage in combat inside an ordinary, normal arena, he would have felt as if he was weary. But, the rain refreshed him every single time. Water splatters when his feet lands on the ground and every slash seems to have sliced the water particles in the air. He swung his blade vertically, a quick, incoming slash from beneath. He thought, for a second, that he saw blood split into the air and blend with the pure rain water.
words:853;
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[div style="text-align:left;"][div style="font-size:12px;text-align:center;"][span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:13.3333px;border-radius:360px;border-width:3px;"][img src="http://67.media.tumblr.com/avatar_98399452e05b_128.png" style="font-family:Verdana, Arial;font-size:13.3333px;max-width:100%;border-radius:360px;border:3px solid rgb(117, 33, 165);"][/span][font face="impact" color="#e4d3ff"][font][font size="6"]F l i n t [i]A[/i] r c h[/font][/font][span style="font-size:13.3333px;border-radius:360px;border-width:3px;"][img style="font-size:13.3333px;max-width:100%;border-radius:360px;border:3px solid rgb(117, 33, 165);" src="http://67.media.tumblr.com/avatar_98399452e05b_128.png"][/span][/font][/div][div][div style="text-align:center;"][font face="impact"][font size="4" style="color:rgb(228, 211, 255);"]D i s t r i c t 1 | C a r e e r | S i x t e e n
[/font][/font][div style="opacity:0.9;padding:10px;background-image:initial;background-attachment:initial;background-color:rgb(232, 232, 232);background-position:initial;background-repeat:initial;"][div style="text-align:right;"][div style="text-align:justify;"][div style="text-align:justify;"][font size="1" color="#000000"][font style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"][b]"Oh, that's why I thought that I smelled alcohol when I first came [/b]here"[b] [/b]He replied, his words clearly mocking her name. His tone was the same as before, taunting with a blend of sarcasm. "And, fourteen years is a looong time. You must be getting old and rusty." He recalled that she had told him that. As soon as the words left his lips, they crooked into a smirk, just an attempt to the other snap back with an angry retort.
[/font][font face="trebuchet ms"][i]My mouth will be the death of me, [/i]He thought to himself, [i]but it will be worth it. [/i]His eyes were remained on Qila.
His gaze was steady on his opponent yet burning with the flames of excitement combined with competitiveness. It was something that always rise inside his chest and appears inside his eyes before he walks into a battle. He doesn't consider it as a weak point, it was quite the opposite. The feeling drove him to cling tight to his main goal- winning -and this enhanced the swings of his swords, his agility and endurance. He felt relentless, not having the need to rest till he achieved his goals. The excitement, on the other hand, made the duels more enjoyable.
[/font][font face="trebuchet ms"]Then, his feet strode towards her. Perhaps she had been caught off guard. He had done the attack and at the moment, she seems to have re-entered her body from her imaginary land of sarcasm and had taken into knowledge, the crimson gash on her shoulder. Not wasting any time, he stepped back, just to escape a quick swing of her sword that she could've made anytime now. Seeing the plastered smile on her face fade, created one on his. His sword still outstretched besides him, he chuckled lightly. "Hey now, no hard feelings, alright?"
The change was fast: from smiling sarcastically at him to a tempered growl like a wild animal. It impressed him even although the expression on his face did not imply it. His smirk had decreased into a smug smile. Then, as if within a blink, pain flared up from his right leg.[/font][span style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"]When his eyes opened, he was greeted by a dazzling flash and the sight of the sick gash on his right calf. [/span][span style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"]Flint winced and screamed- rather in surprise than pain -she was [i]swift[/i]. The smile on his face died, only a few seconds, before growing into something more: a grin.
"Impressive." He said, accompanied by a chuckle from himself. His free hand had flew automatically to apply pressure on the injury. The water helped him in this situation. The raindrops washed down the red blood from the wound and it slipped out of his fingers: a large volume of crimson liquid. Blood combined with water made it easily seem like he was losing a large quantity of blood. The dark red water was beneath him in a mini puddle that was beginning to spread. His palm pressed the wound and he bit his lower lip to prevent himself from letting out a cry. A coppery, metallic taste started to appear in his mouth. [/span][/font][/div][div style="text-align:justify;"][font color="#000000" size="1"]
[font face="trebuchet ms"]When he retrieved his free hand back, it still had red, crimson blood on it. The bleeding had slowed now. Flint grunted when he took a step, pain still flared from his leg. But, after a few more steps, he adapted to move against it. He regained his earlier stance, one grasping the handle of his sword tightly. "Everything suits me, honey. See how hot I look when I am soaked." His grin only grew wider every time he spoke. "And, that was such a dirty move but I guess it makes us even." Flint knew that she clearly understood his words, the implication in it. And with that, he charged again. But, the thought of her knowing him better did not really occur into his head. Perhaps it was because of the pain and the need to attack her again. It was even now but he wanted more, being even did not satisfy him nor, he guessed, his mentor.
Every step was heavy and painful. The wound stung between his steps but as he got nearer to his opponent, the pain went numb. His teeth was gritted, two front ones looking like fangs when he parted his lips to let out a battle yell, right before he strike at her. He had always enjoyed how much duels seem to look like dances. Their feet planted steadily to the ground while their swords, bedazzling under the cool raindrops. Numerous light beams bounced off from the metal surface of his sword during his way towards her.
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[font face="trebuchet ms"]If they were placed to engage in combat inside an ordinary, normal arena, he would have felt as if he was weary. But, the rain refreshed him every single time. Water splatters when his feet lands on the ground and every slash seems to have sliced the water particles in the air. He swung his blade vertically, a quick, incoming slash from beneath. He thought, for a second, that he saw blood split into the air and blend with the pure rain water.[/font]
[/font][/div][/div][/div][div style="text-align:center;"][font size="1" color="#000000" face="courier new"]words:853;[/font][/div][/div][img src="https://66.media.tumblr.com/c428c5acfcf09a1bf2620d160527d4f9/tumblr_o7tlauRWSv1t5bp2mo1_500.jpg" alt="" style="text-align:justify;font-size:12px;font-family:'comic sans ms';color:rgb(228, 211, 255);max-width:100%;background-color:initial;"]
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