Post by Casual on Nov 19, 2009 19:59:40 GMT -5
It was one of the most refreshing feelings Jarzec had ever felt. It was like the weight of the galaxy was lifted from his shoulders. It was as if he were floating. He hardly even noticed Tsubasa’s punch as the drain was dulling his pain. Bruises recovered and his facial cut closed, and some of his pain was dulled away, as Tsu fell to his knees. It wasn’t all too much, but with it came confidence, and a renewed sense of vigor. With it he felt he stood a chance, he could really fight back. He felt a burning sensation in his hands, and decided that he would just use what energy he was draining to fight it back. That way, even if he wasn’t healing per se, he was draining Tsu’s energy twice as fast. A sneer rose up to his face at the notion. His excitement, however, was short lived.
All of a sudden, in a great flourish of Force and body, Tsubasa rose to his feet, hand upon Jarzec’s throat. In one motion, he threw Jarzec into a tree, his nourishment now cut off. As he hit the tree upon his back, anger swelled up inside him like never before. It was the culmination of losses and frustration. How he could not match this man’s blade, and how even when he did get a good shot in, Tsubasa always managed to recover, dignified and ready to rumble, it just made Jarzec almost literally sick with anger. It was such a heavy anger, it swelled and burned around him. He had never felt such a thing before, after all, he had never faced such an opponent before. This man was tempered and forged in battle, and all Jarzec knew of were principles and techniques. For a brief moment in time, both Jarzec and Tsubasa could be seen, brooding over their disdain for one another, and the same message crossed their mind: It was now do or die.
Before Jarzec could respond, Tsubasa struck first, and he mentally cursed himself for yet again being the one to attack first. The only difference was, he had true confidence, and a better understanding of who he was up against. That could make all the difference. Tsu’s blade flew down at Jarzec’s feet. His confidence swelled even greater as he dodged it. He felt at the top of his game. That was until the other end of the wan-shen came up and decked him in the stomach. The strike dropped Jarzec’s overconfidence like an Ewok in a drinking game. What soon followed was a combination of a blade to the neck and a sweeping kick at his feet. Jarzec blocked the blow to his neck with his blade, and before he could respond, Tsu’s kick hit Jarzec dead on in his legs, but he didn’t falter. The pain shot through him, raging at him to fall down and lessen the pain, but instead he stood, focusing as much of the Force into his body as he could handle. He was going to make one last stand.
He tried with all he had in him to defend the rain of strikes that assailed him. The blunted end of the staff danced around him, mocking him and taunting him, while Tsu’s fists flew this way and that. He took on a few new fresh bruises to replace the ones he’d lost. It was then that Tsu abruptly spun the wan-shen, blade ready to rend and tear flesh. Jarzec responded with an attempted jump, thrusting his legs up behind him to get a hold on the tree with his feet, his arms hanging down that he may gain the momentum he needed. The blade flew, fast, true and strong. It was within this strike that Jarzec’s left arm was cut off in the attack. Time seemed to stand still.
There stood Tsu, blade following through the strike, as Jarzec’s arm from the elbow down was in mid-drop towards the ground. Jarzec, himself, had both feet planted on the tree behind him, body almost completely horizontal, knees bent. The loss of his arm only served to bring Jarzec’s anger to devastating high for himself. Never had he experienced so much hate for one man. Never had he known such physical and emotional anguish at once. He no longer had an arm. It was in this moment that he would release it all. An attack that pushed out virtually all the Force he had in his body. Then, the chains of time fell.
Jarzec pushed off the tree, using a bit of Force push to propel himself even more. His lightsaber raised above his left shoulder, coming down for a sweeping diagonal blow. Sparks raced along his hand, eyes shone a filthy tainted yellow. As he yelled his battle cry, he put the best Force Scream into it as he could, however mediocre it may be. The Force surged out of him in his last, most desperate plea to kill for the sake of his own life.
All of a sudden, in a great flourish of Force and body, Tsubasa rose to his feet, hand upon Jarzec’s throat. In one motion, he threw Jarzec into a tree, his nourishment now cut off. As he hit the tree upon his back, anger swelled up inside him like never before. It was the culmination of losses and frustration. How he could not match this man’s blade, and how even when he did get a good shot in, Tsubasa always managed to recover, dignified and ready to rumble, it just made Jarzec almost literally sick with anger. It was such a heavy anger, it swelled and burned around him. He had never felt such a thing before, after all, he had never faced such an opponent before. This man was tempered and forged in battle, and all Jarzec knew of were principles and techniques. For a brief moment in time, both Jarzec and Tsubasa could be seen, brooding over their disdain for one another, and the same message crossed their mind: It was now do or die.
Before Jarzec could respond, Tsubasa struck first, and he mentally cursed himself for yet again being the one to attack first. The only difference was, he had true confidence, and a better understanding of who he was up against. That could make all the difference. Tsu’s blade flew down at Jarzec’s feet. His confidence swelled even greater as he dodged it. He felt at the top of his game. That was until the other end of the wan-shen came up and decked him in the stomach. The strike dropped Jarzec’s overconfidence like an Ewok in a drinking game. What soon followed was a combination of a blade to the neck and a sweeping kick at his feet. Jarzec blocked the blow to his neck with his blade, and before he could respond, Tsu’s kick hit Jarzec dead on in his legs, but he didn’t falter. The pain shot through him, raging at him to fall down and lessen the pain, but instead he stood, focusing as much of the Force into his body as he could handle. He was going to make one last stand.
He tried with all he had in him to defend the rain of strikes that assailed him. The blunted end of the staff danced around him, mocking him and taunting him, while Tsu’s fists flew this way and that. He took on a few new fresh bruises to replace the ones he’d lost. It was then that Tsu abruptly spun the wan-shen, blade ready to rend and tear flesh. Jarzec responded with an attempted jump, thrusting his legs up behind him to get a hold on the tree with his feet, his arms hanging down that he may gain the momentum he needed. The blade flew, fast, true and strong. It was within this strike that Jarzec’s left arm was cut off in the attack. Time seemed to stand still.
There stood Tsu, blade following through the strike, as Jarzec’s arm from the elbow down was in mid-drop towards the ground. Jarzec, himself, had both feet planted on the tree behind him, body almost completely horizontal, knees bent. The loss of his arm only served to bring Jarzec’s anger to devastating high for himself. Never had he experienced so much hate for one man. Never had he known such physical and emotional anguish at once. He no longer had an arm. It was in this moment that he would release it all. An attack that pushed out virtually all the Force he had in his body. Then, the chains of time fell.
Jarzec pushed off the tree, using a bit of Force push to propel himself even more. His lightsaber raised above his left shoulder, coming down for a sweeping diagonal blow. Sparks raced along his hand, eyes shone a filthy tainted yellow. As he yelled his battle cry, he put the best Force Scream into it as he could, however mediocre it may be. The Force surged out of him in his last, most desperate plea to kill for the sake of his own life.
