Luxa Magna [v] Ilia Asall

[Dire Wolf]

The darkest of deeds have transpired under the watchful gaze of the light blue fluorescent light. The ancient agony can be felt rolling off the durasteel plating via the two combatant's connection with the force.

Luxa Magna [v] Ilia Asall
Duration: 5 Rounds
Jedi v Dark Jedi
First attack to the Challenger.

3... 2... 1... FIGHT!!!

[starwarsgirl008]

Luxa felt the aura of evil bouncing off the walls of the slim hall. The pure sense of darkness could be seen by anyone. The thin flicker of light from the side brought hope to the Master, but she wasn’t sure it was enough. Her will was the only thing keeping her in the room.

But was her will helping her or harming her? She needed to clear her mind. Luxa slipped off her shoes. Her toes crippled at the feeling of the cool floor. Her eyes closed as she extended her hand. Slowly but surely, her hand touched the wall. Pain struck just as her finger tips hit the surface. The screams of men, women and children. The pain of innocent souls filled Luxa. Yet strangely, she did not withdraw her hand. She knew she could avenge the souls of the past with the destruction of the very evil that had showed them so much hatred.

Soon Luxa had endured as much pain as she could take in. She pulled away her hand, staggering away from the wall. Clasping her wrist, and slowly opening her eyes, she whispered, “Forgive me that I was not there to help you, but I shall now cure the pain you hold in the afterlife.” It calmed her, but did not burn out her determination. All she could do was wait. Many questioned her patience, but Luxa believed an opportunity always presented itself if you sat down and relaxed.

With this in mind, Luxa fell to the floor in the most graceful way. One might compare it to the movement of a feather floating in the air. Shutting her eyes again, she crossed her legs. She lethargically drew her hand up her body to her head tail. The feeling of it brought comfort to her. She stroked the tail, literally feeling the determination within her. She felt the pulse within her purple skin. Sweat appeared on her forehead, but not in the means of nervousness. It was the pure strength of her soul that allowed the sticky substance to crawl down her face in the cold room.

Taking deep breaths, Luxa’s hands returned to her knees. She moved her finger tips across the crease caused by the cross of her legs. Looking deep into her thoughts, she fell into a trance. Not of fear or evil, but of relaxation. Her peaceful meditation was interrupted by the sense of an approaching figure…

[Synth]

Moving to the rhythm of anguished cries echoing through the force, Ilia stepped into the dim lit and thin hall. Fluorescent blue lights aligned the passage, dying his eyes, as if each was a black canvas, with swirls and spins of blue, cerulean and teal. His lips dressed his features in malice, as they showed fragments of a lithe smirk, teeth's reflections also influenced by the colours drifting past the hall's neon blue lights. The pain that literally screeched through the force, as he perceived it, taunted his sanity. Even the darkest emotions he had been able to experience throughout his years in exile, or his years in Nar Shaddaa, Coruscant or Onderon, did not compare to the wail and voice of hundreds upon hundreds of souls reaching unison in their screams; a dark chorus of pain and sorrow inspired a deep and caustic melancholy in the heart of the Dark Jedi, Ilia.


He could feel a presence in the force fluctuate with peace. Amidst the chaos and misery that the durasteel plated walls had witnessed, Ilia could feel the life of a Jedi. A bright light resonating with a pure serenity beyond that was not evanescent or tainted. Ilia could almost grasp that life, that shred of light, the fragments of a being's essence that he perceive with his limited ability of sense. It was beyond the next door. As he approached the motion sensors reacted, setting ablaze ancient mechanisms that worked in chain... like well oiled gears, they moved the durasteel door with a slow pace. Beyond the door, The Jedi could be seen...


'I apologise... I am but a mere soldier on the front line... I cannot spare your life, Jedi.' - Perhaps it was quite bold of Ilia to speak such an ill-mannered threat through passive whispers. His voice, carrying a coruscanti' accent, would trail past his vocal chords, left to ripple into the cold and metallic air. He stepped forward regardless of Luxa's reaction, and beneath the shuffle of his robes and the flutter of his steps, he withdrew a sleek silver hilt. It was curved and long, fitting comfortable in his hold as he flourished the blade in the standard Makashi salute. Dark Jedi, renegade, rebel or imperialist, Ilia still held the honour his Master taught him, and only moved forth once he had formally challenged the Jedi by flourishing his blade. The lightsaber's beam erupted past the hilt with a somber hiss, crooning a silent hymn that promised death. As an ephemeral mist bounced off the incandescent blade's omni-directional edge, Ilia held it pointed downwards at his right, his fingers curled around the hilt as his thumb rested along the length of the hilt. Truly a Makashi user upon first sight, Ilia moved with light steps, finally stopping a few feet from the Jedi, only to attack. His form would be positioned so the arm that held his saber would be facing the Jedi, as he swung it upwards. The finesse of his blade was made apparent and obvious as it breezed through the distance, reaching out to tentatively taunt the Jedi with a short and concise slash, one simple and reserved swing that allowed Ilia the space to call back the blade in a moment's notice. It was a taunt, an invitation to the Jedi for her to proceed into battle with him. It was an offering to dance a ballad of death, sung by their hilts, a song by their incandescent blades.

[Dire Wolf]

Round 1

Starwarsgirl008
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: Great post

Synth
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: ^

Total:

SWG008 - 18
Synth - 19

(edit: I noticed that I had the round numbering wrong)

[starwarsgirl008]

The presence of the man deeply disturbed Luxa, but she did not move. Suddenly, the swish of metal rubbing against fabric filtered the small hall, startling Luxa. One would think that after all the battles she fought, a faint noise wouldn’t disturb her, but she knew what the faint noise had caused. The faint noise had struck fear into the souls of harmless creatures. The faint noise turned the bravest man into a mere coward. The faint noise was simply a killer.

Following the faint noise came the buzz of the ignition of the lightsaber. It became harder for Luxa to concentrate, yet still she did not move. She would not be intimidated. The nameless began combat. Luxa had been forced into battle, something she did not like done to her. But anger would not fuel her victory. She rose from her meditation, but did not turn to face the figure.

One thing Luxa learned from her years in the Order was to always take the defensive position. A clear advantage came from the position, as your goal isn’t to necessarily kill your enemy, but prevent them from causing harm. Luxa would wait for the man to attack her. Victory would come easy if this happened.

Yet, something within Luxa compelled her to turn to face the man. How could she resist? She was already in combat physically; she did not want to start a mental duel with herself. She turned majestically, knowing the only way she could turn back is if she claimed victory.

“There is no try; there is only do or do not.” Luxa recalled the words of her Master. She had passed the very words to her young pupils, yet she herself did not sometimes follow it. There was always a third way to do things, and Luxa knew she would try to resort to that third way in this battle.

She faced the man. He towered over her, but Luxa saw pure anger within him. With anger, came foolishness; with foolishness, came mistake; with mistake, came defeat. Luxa did not turn away, nor did she charge toward the man. She simply whispered, “Your victory shall not come easily!”

With that, Luxa’s eyes shut, as a wave of force within her caused her body to squirm. Suddenly, her figure disappeared from the average eye. Luxa had cloaked herself using the Force.

[Synth]

Ilia withdrew his arm upon her disappearance; recoiling his elbow back, allowing his back's muscles to provide the sudden tension and strength as his body was pivoted back, his steps becoming light and concise as they carried him to his retreat. His lightsaber was still held loosely in hand, blue blade pointed forward, even if he did not see or perceive anything but the bittersweet symphony of sorrow and screams that rang beneath the durasteel plated walls. The Jedi disappeared, but Ilia was sure it was not a vision or ghost, not a ghoul of phantom. It a real, living, organic being that disappeared by twisting the force. Upon quickly analysing the situation, he could recall the countless duels with his now defunct Master... His Master would employ similar tactics, and often used The Force to camouflage himself under plain view; to cloak himself.

Force cloak, or camouflage, was a technique Ilia sought to learn. He was proficient at bending light, twisting it, corrupting it, to obscure the fine details, and hide himself in darker atmospheres. But he could not yet perform it upon a moment's notice as the Jedi did. At least, he guessed the Jedi had performed a technique similar to the one he sought to archive to perfection. In the end, The Jedi could also be twisting his mind and playing with it as she saw fit. What was perceived through the body could not be trusted. As a vessel of the force, the body was still flesh, and the flesh is weak. Sighing, Ilia could only wait, while allowing the force to manifest.

Focusing the force through his body, Ilia's breath became passive and gentle. Perhaps she was mistaken to feel rage, or anger, coming from Ilia. Dark Jedi or not, he kept his emotions in check, even if he believed they were the greatest catalyst for power. He projected sorrow and melancholy; he was a mirror, and his aura was a reflection of the emotions that bounced off the durasteel halls. His stance relaxed, as he lowered his blade to his side, tip pointed down at the floor diagonally. Feet were spread apart evenly, and his left hand reached out to nothing but the force. The Force was gathered to his fingertips, manipulated by his will. The scarce air around them would beckon his call, and even the fluorescent blue lights that lit the hall would succumb to his will. The light twisted, refracted around his fingertips, until it would finally expand in an even sphere, creating a barrier before the Dark Jedi. Impenetrable by normal means and wide, the bubble, the barrier, began to squeeze against the walls, threatening to envelop the rest of the small hall. If the Jedi was to advance or move against the barrier, or even go as far as trying to use her own influence in the force to dismantle it, Ilia would be warned of her position, and alerted of her intentions. Patience was a swordman's virtue, his master taught him, and Ilia believed it to be true... so he waited, patiently... with his left hand held out, barrier erected.

'Do not deceive me, Jedi. '

Ilia remained uneasy... but allowed the barrier to expand regardless. It would only take a moment's notice to strike and engage the Jedi with his sabre, but he needed to locate her first. The Jedi was obviously of a calibre much higher than his own, more skilled; a Master of her arts, while he was a mere Knight... a phantasmagoric dark-side replica of a Jedi Sentinel.

[Dire Wolf]

Round 2

Starwarsgirl008
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 3/5
Bonus: -1/2
Comments: Great post, but you have to attack him

Synth
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: -1/2
Comments: as always, ^

Total:

SWG008 - 34
Synth - 36

[starwarsgirl008]

Luxa watched as her enemy backed away. She simply stood where she was, knowing the outcome of the battle would lead to one of the two creatures getting injured. She could only bow her head. Her body wanted to cry, but her will would not let her. Her lips trembled as she mumbled out, “Sorry.”

Luxa waved her hands, disabling the cloak. Energy seemed to flow threw her, as if The Force used in the cloak was now transferred into Luxa. She stepped forward, extending both of her hands. A ripple was seen in the air, as Luxa maneuvered The Force into a massive block. She hesitated as she was about to shoot it at her enemy, but knew it was the only way. And so, she released The Force upon her enemy. She turned, not wanting to see him slam into the wall.

After a loud thud, Luxa turned to see what she had created. But the man was more powerful than she had expected. He limped to his feet, and then acted as though he had not been hit. It would take more to gain a victory.

She drew her hand to her side, pulling her lightsaber to her grip. It was a cool, yet comfortable feeling for Luxa to hold her weapon. She had worked to construct it in just the right way, and now she would get to use it again.

Her right hand rose to the top of the hilt, as her left slid to the bottom. She ignited the blade, as a yellow luminescence brightened the room. Holding the blade next to her leg she called upon her enemy, “You started this, I will end it!” With that, she sprinted toward the man. She halted as she came to his front. She was about to idolize her best form, Shii-Cho.

Her attack consisted of various horizontal and vertical strikes. Re-calling her training, she headed for the six target points: head, right side, left side, back, right leg, left leg. And so, she found immense strength as she slashed at the man’s head.

[Synth]

[[ OOC: Yeah, I'll go along with my char stumbling. But normally, the reaction would be different. Try not to control my character too much ^^; ]]



- As the Jedi dissolved her cloak, Ilia watched with interest. He could feel the force pulled and concentrated around her, pulled back into her flesh, through her flesh, as if she had absorbed the very Force she had used to conceal herself beneath plain sight. Then The Force would fall under her Mastery and will, pulled together in what seemed to be a tight block.

With his barrier still erected, Ilia braced himself as she shot a blast of the force towards him, only to turn as if not to see him be hit. Jedi were weak; neglecting their emotions at the cost of strength. Ilia allowed his presence to manifest through his mastery of 'protection' through the force. The barrier was reinforced by the sudden disappointment, frustration, and slight hints of anger, as he saw the jedi turn away from her own carefully ministered attack. What seemed to be a block of the force impacted his barrier, dispersing its energy throughout the spherical shield of the force. It broke through, dismantling, breaking, Ilia's barrier, only to dissipate into what seemed to be a shockwave of clashing energies. It hit Ilia, forcing him back. His quick feet shuffled to balance his upper body, drawing a linear path backwards, keeping him steady and firm, while being light and nimble. Makashi footwork was part of his nature already, and it allowed him to sustain the heavy blow dealt by the Jedi. He stumbled, almost falling, but immediately regained composure as he planted his right foot behind him. It acted as a column, keeping him standing, as his upper leaned forward, his lips parting to bellow a thunderous scream, a hollow threat of death to the Jedi.


'Are you ashamed of the power you have achieved, Jedi? Why do you turn as you attack? Why do you hesitate? Is the knowledge you've gained spent in vain?


As she proceeded with her blade, it casted xanthic warm tossed over Ilia's features once her blade advanced towards him. As it came down in a series of horizontal and vertical strikes, Ilia retaliated with his own blade. The somber blade combed the air, directing Ilia's anger through his body, finally climaxing in the clash of their lightsabers. Instead of creating an impenetrable defense or an offensive front, Ilia let his blade dance upon the Jedi's. His blade would tilt back and forth to tease the Jedi's with split moments of friction, following inertia to deviate and redirect the Jedi's blade. It was Makashi, pure Makashi. It was fairly easy for Ilia to allow his curved hilt to cast an awkward angle upon his blade, as he handled it like a feather, brushing away the jedi's offences. The Jedi used Shii-Cho, and to Ilia it seemed to be only 'one level up' in the difficulty of the Velocities his master taught him when he was learning Shii-Cho years back. The only thing that took him by surprised was the Jedi's strength as she slashed towards his head.

As she did so, Ilia was inspired by the adrenaline of a fight. The Force surged through his body, channelled through his muscles. His steps, concise as always, led him forward as his back's muscles carried the weight of his arms, shooting forth. His elbow, once tense, released and the energy seemed to flow to his wrist, which snapped with a quick movement, leading his blade to parry the Jedi's. His free hand, unused until now, rose to support his hilt. The blades met. Holding the hilt with both hands, Ilia added extra support to his parry, and even attempted to push his blade forth. In the same fluid movement, Ilia attempted to brush his blade over the Jedi's, to have it follow the rhythm of the battle and slip along the yellow blade, carried towards the hilt, and the Jedi's grip.

Perhaps Makashi lacked strength, and the raw force and inertia that later styles emphasised upon. But Ilia took it upon himself to reinforce his swordsmanship by building an unbreakable body supported by the force. He would demonstrate his efforts as his body was inclined towards her blade, arms pushing his own blade upon hers, it would dance through the surface of the opponent's blade, stepping above the sparks both untouchable swords created. It would, under the perfect circumstance, tear the finger's from the Jedi's hand and incapacitate the adversary's hilt in the process.

[Dire Wolf]

Round 3

Starwarsgirl008
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 2/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: You cannot say that your attack hit him

Synth
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: Good post

Total:

SWG008 - 50
Synth - 55

[starwarsgirl008]

Luxa realized her mistake of charging the enemy, as she was nowhere near victory. In fact, her enemy was putting up a good fight. Luxa needed a plan to win. Backing off, and unleashing various parries, she devised the perfect idea. As long as her opponent was lost in his emotions, she would prove victorious.

Glancing down at her fight, she noticed her shoes were still off. It seems the cool feeling of the floor left her mind after the duel started. Perfect. Her plane could now be put into action.

After blocking away one more attack, Luxa pulled down her saber, eliminating the yellow glow from the room. She ran backward from her opponent, saying, “I do not need my ligh…” Suddenly, as she intended, her feet became tangled and she shot backward to the ground.

Her body crashed against the metal floor. The shock wasn’t that bad, as she was ready for the fall, but Luxa did endure a few bruises, but the excitement of battle eliminated the pain. As she fell, she purposely allowed her lightsaber to be thrown from her hands. The weapon flew through the air, clashing against the wall. The ding of metal hitting metal filled the room, as the saber fell to the ground, rolling a few inches before coming to a halt.

In order for her plan to work, Luxa needed to act as though she were unconscious. Shutting her eyes, she fell into deep meditation, hoping her enemy would fall for the ploy. The only thing left to do was wait…

[Synth]

'Do you mock me, Jedi? - Ilia felt disappointment and taunted, completely thrown off by the Jedi's sudden turn. Amidst the engagement she turned, and ran? Of course, Ilia was nothing more than a pathetic rancor from which you could run away by pretending to be unconscious, or dead.

He could feel the tension in The Force. The air around him was so thick, too dense. His breath was passive, but slow and heavy, and his steps as light as always as he stepped forward. His saber, held at his right, vibrated with the anticipation of claiming life. Only one stroke, one brush of his sabre, would erase the very matter that held the Jedi's body together... the very cells that composed her being. He approached cautiously, gauging the distance and considering his actions. She seemed to be knocked out, but she was a Jedi... though not as skilled as he originally thought.

Ilia reached out through The Force. His saber was still in hand, but his left hand hovered above her form. He played with the strings of The Force that flowed around him, inserting his metaphysical fingertips into whatever aura, presence, he could perceive flowing freely from the Jedi. As he did so, he squeezed tightly upon The Force... making a compact ring, a tight threshold and cage left to fall upon the Jedi's body and neck. Ilia attempted to grasp her life through the force. Life, itself, was a malleable thing... it only took practice and skill with the force to erase it, or a brutal disposition to kill, plus the necessary resources (i.e; weapons, etc). Now, with the Jedi before him, Ilia considered and pondered: What better weapon than the force itself? - He attempted to rip the breath from her lung, to squeeze upon her neck. To place death's choke hold upon her as a collar; as unbreakable chains that would tie him down to his will... and his will was her death, and her passing.

Without hesitation, Ilia closed his hand... And in concert with his clenching fist, The Force itself would fall like a hammer of irony upon the Jedi's neck, if she didn't take the necessary precautions and stopped Ilia from continuing to claim her life. Even as he performed (attempted) such a cruel technique, choking someone through the force, he did it slowly and with all the patience he could muster... All while allowing his emotions to manifest through his presence in the force, fuelling his unrequited sorrow. I apologise, but I truly cannot spare your life, Jedi...' Perhaps it was easier to apologise, for a second time, to an inanimate body, than a flailing Jedi upon the verge of death and humiliation.

Ilia would lift his left hand, as if to pull the Jedi's upper body from the ground if only a few inches... Then raised his right arm, only to bring it down with his weight, to cleave the head clean off of the Jedi's body. The lightsaber would come down with its length and reach obscured by the ghostly trails of blue light that it provoked with each movement. It would become liquid and soft, like a whip, and then finally materialise upon meeting with the Jedi's flesh... If it did connect.




[[Pardon the typoes]]

[Dire Wolf]

Round 4

Starwarsgirl008
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 1/2
Comments: You put yourself at a seroius disadvantage, you get an extra point in fairness

Synth
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 5/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments: Good post, I like the description of force choke and the attempted beheading ^^

Total:

SWG008 - 68
Synth - 75

[starwarsgirl008]

Luxa remained still, deep in The Force. Her plan still in action, her patience needed to remain strong. The steps of her opponent walking closer to Luxa were nothing more than blurs in her mind. Her concentration was not deep enough to sense this. It wasn’t important to her.

As Luxa relaxed, images appeared in her mind. The beautiful sand dunes of Ryloth surrounded her, as she sank her bare feet into the warm sand. The blue sky was shown above her, and all was great. But suddenly, a ship appeared. The sky dispersed under the sheen of the massive plate of metal. Luxa wanted to glance up, but strangely couldn’t. A grip appeared on her neck, slowly thickening, as Luxa maneuvered her hands to stop the pain. She fell to the ground, as the tan sand turned black. She was being controlled. She could only struggle as her body was forced into a sitting position.

Luxa’s eyes shot open. Her purple eyes stared at the face of the man that stood in front of her. She was seconds from a major defeat, one she had to avoid. The plan she once had was long gone. It had left with the gentle memories in Luxa’s mind. She turned to her mind, only to realize it was clouded by the dark side. Her dream on Ryloth was dead, and Luxa would be too if she did not act. Then she remembered.

She struggled to attempt to leave the grip of her opponent. She tilted her body to her left. The clash of an object on the metal floor allowed Luxa to smile in her time of desperation.

The clash was caused by a secondary lightsaber Luxa had received in her past years. Reaching her left hand to her side, she clasped the metal hilt. Her fingers curled as she spoke, “Foolish child! Don’t you know that the dark side never wins?”

She ignited the saber. The purple blade made the room glow again. Jumping to her fight, Luxa would now utilize Soresu. Although she had not mastered the resilience form, it was one of her favorites. It took advantage of defensive positions until opportunity presented itself.

Meeting her opponent, Luxa would begin the last part of the duel.

[Synth]

In one fell swing, Ilia had brought down his blade to behead the Jedi, but was unsuccessful. Ilia's blade met the resistance of a new saber brought to play. The Jedi was foolish to consider herself free of Ilia's grasp. The grip would only tighten as Ilia was surprised. His left hand, moving back and away from her, turned as his left foot slid back to appoint his right arm's weight, shoulder, and back, further down upon his blue blade to allow gravity to strengthen the blow itself. Simultaneously, during the swing, Ilia would pull the Jedi's head towards the trajectory of his blade. It did not suffice to kill her. Like a vermin, the Jedi didn't seem to die so easily.

Moving his arm back, Ilia recalled his blade as light steps led him back. The Jedi mounted a defensive form, Soresu most likely, as if ready to await an onslaught of rage and fury coming from Ilia. But Ilia refrained. Instead, offering a smile, he chose to refute the callous words she spit before rising. 'It is not about wining, or losing.'[/color] With disgust written across his smile, Ilia allowed his coruscanti' accent, the accent he once tried to erase, manifest through his sorrow and voice.. 'Light, or dark... To deny yourself of the darkness that is inherent is your being is the same as denying your body of its nature. Don't you feel fear? Do you deny yourself the right to feel fear? Or do you embrace your fear, to overcome in the process? Likewise, I embrace the sorrow echoing past these walls. Their screams tear at my head. Countless victims were slaughtered beneath where we stand now. I hear their cries, I hear the sorrow rippling through the Force. I embrace the sorrow, the melancholy, the pain and the angst. I will not shun them, instead, I embrace them... and with them, I shall slay you. You should thank me, Jedi. Upon your death you shall be more powerful than you ever imagine. Come, Jedi. Allow me to grant you freedom.'[/color] - Smiling, Ilia lifted his left hand; its fingers were loosely curled. Once again they tightened into a grasp, holding the silhouette of the Jedi's neck within his grasp. The Force would once again fall around her neck as chains. Did Ilia ever truly release his grip on her? Did Luxa ever release herself from his grip? It would be unsure. Regardless, Ilia allowed The Force to once again manifest as he stepped forth, stabbing his blade forward.


The blue lightsaber he wielded was pushed forth as a lance. Casting the very oxygen off from its surface, making it burn and roll off its intangible edge as it cleaved through the air, threatening to simply slide past Luxa's soresu stance and impale her stomach... As his blade was motioned towards her, Ilia pulled on his left hand, as if to pull her in through The Force, rather than choke her. Either way, whether or not she'd fall victim to his mastery of the force, Ilia proceeded with caution. His blade would be nimble and lithe, yet devious and deceitful; it would plant lies through each diminutive and false movement erupting from beneath Ilia's robes, his shoulder would roll as if to attack but the blade would remain immobile. He would cast light swings in mid trajectory only to brush her sabre away from his form, and then retaliate with light stabs, gentle taps of his blade coming down as a hammer threatening to peel her skin off the flesh. Ilia charged... and each blow was a threat to her life. By attacking while she used Soresu, Ilia could manipulate her movements which were most likely to be purely defensive. And through that manipulation he would twist the angle of his own blade by allowing his grip to slip closer to the curvature of his lightsaber, adding a macabre element of surprise to his swordsmanship. Every swing seemed to threaten to curl past Luxa's defences...

Their fate and destiny was uncertain. But it was obvious the fight would endure. Ilia continued with his customary patience and grace, an ethereal and fleeting anger moving his body past the limitations and restrictions of the flesh.

[Dire Wolf]

Round 5

Starwarsgirl008
Effort: 4/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 4/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments:

Synth
Effort: 5/5
Fairness: 5/5
Detail: 5/5
Coolness: 4/5
Bonus: 0/2
Comments:

Total:

SWG008 - 85
Synth - 94