fight for freedom, win for glory [ epic ]
Jun 14, 2019 9:39:06 GMT -7
Post by neko bo beko on Jun 14, 2019 9:39:06 GMT -7
Looking over his shoulder to the cloaked figure supervising him, TEvin would see little that he had not already seen. The masked clone of the announcer was motionless with his firm grip on the angry boy's shoulder but with a strange, distinct feeling of distance. He wouldn't see the clone's eyes shift down in the same moment to glimpse him as well though, or the smirk that broke his face in two when TEv looked away.
Where TEvin was ready to begin, the old man was far beyond the beginning of the battle, looking forward into the end of it and settling himself with how it would go down, considering the many rivulets of possibilities stemming from this single beginning. He was tired and admittedly old, but he knew his role in TEvin's plan was important even if he was not at the center. A small part of him wanted to triumph himself, but judging by the crazy eyed dirty man in the cages above, nobody was allowed to leave no matter how many times they won. The champion was a bloodthirsty and exploitative title and Joichiro was hoping that the angry boy could break its cycle.
In the end, Joichiro knew his place. Previously he'd thought TEvin and the crazy one were immature for thinking the way they did, but now he knew that this was the kind of revolution his generation feared wrongfully. Still, as TEvin approached with a new wave of oppressive energy, so too the old man fell into his role to play. In the blink of an eye, he'd swept low in a crescent shape around TEvin to avoid the lackluster attempt at his core with those sharp toys. They clatter across the tile arena as Joichiro stands behind TEvin's back now, moving faster than a man of his bones and skin should. Although he was seeing the world in black and white, the old man's aura shone brightly, filling most of monochrome with his color, brilliantly and nearly youthful.
"So we shall," he agreed, gathering a healthy amount of chakra in his forearms, tendrils of chakra licking his finger tips as he attempts a sharp and sudden open-handed jab to the small of the Kamyuja's back, targeting tenketsu points. If he were unable to avoid such a close encounter attempt, TEvin would be in a searing yet nonlethal pain, blown forward a couple meters. In the moment after Joichiro's first attempt, a second attempt came in quick succession, this time more condensed, like a bullet of force. In tandem the old man jotted in another crescent moon shape to put a small distance between him and the angry boy. From above, there was a shrill noise, barely audible below. It was lost in the sea of screaming and cheering of the stadium.
So far, nothing was out of the ordinary between the old man and TEvin. The council above watched closely but from a place of privilege. Still, they suspected nothing. Still above, Kane was antsy, watching closely not only with joy and excitement, anticipating the death of someone but hopefully not his new thing, but also for a sign. He was squinting but wide eyed, hooting yet suffocated by wait. He wanted to fight. What was the angry boy waiting for?