n u c l e a r - t i t a n s [Daul vs Drustan] [M]

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n u c l e a r - t i t a n s [Daul vs Drustan] [M]

Post by Drustan on Sun Apr 05, 2015 11:02 pm

Drustan stood to a side of the coliseum pit opposite the entrance of his opponent.  His eyes were closed, as was his mind; a complete, self-imposed sensory deprivation to facilitate the hushing of his mind.  A mental and physical serenity was achieved in the brief moments before the beginning of his match against Daul, who cut an imposing figure both physically and by reputation.  Her exploits and accomplishments had unnerved the young Primoris while he was a Lieutenant under Caden, and just as well angered him.  In the past, he resented her; for reasons that weren’t entirely within her power, Drustan begrudged her existence, and waited patiently for the day that he might remove her from her lofty, comfortable place.  Such emotions were past him now.

His feelings could have been born from some modicum of wariness; respect for her strength turned to jealousy.  These were emotions kept by and large to himself; it seemed unlikely that the Amazonian had ever noticed his feelings bubbling within him; and if she had she’d not made mention of them.  But at some point those feelings had been left in the past.  With wars, battles, and fights for his life rapidly appearing before him, culminating in his promotion to Primoris and the domination of his Dra’sin half over his human half, what he felt for Daul Dra’sen seemed… insignificant.  With his mind a blank template—infinitely dark and shapeless—there was nothing of his former self to grasp in order to fuel his desire to beat Daul… nothing but his pride.  Drustan had new reasons to seek victory in his fight against Daul besides misplaced resentment, though whether it made him stronger had yet to be seen.

The Primoris’ fingers, hands, and forearms appeared as if dunked in a vat of molten metal to then be cooled so upon Drustan’s limbs hung the golden claws and scales of some monstrous beast; a dragon by any other name.  The fingers and talons of the brilliant, golden gauntlets twitched, heralding the opening of Drustan’s eyes, burning a scorching vermillion hot as the furnace that forged the gauntlets on his hands.  The Dwarf-King had poured her genius into the gauntlets like liquid gold, and fashioned them into the likeness of monstrous hands befitting the ferocity of the man who wielded them.  Drustan had acquired experience and practice with the gauntlets since their creation, leaving him with nothing but confidence in his ability to wield them.  As he stared down the spot that would soon behold the visage of the Dra’sinian Amazonian, he was relaxed, and left with nothing but confidence.  With his combat vest and ivory cape, all the accoutrements of a Primoris were upon Drustan, and with his gauntlets finally wielded for the sake of glory, the crown of the Ignis was ready for battle.


Last edited by Drustan on Sat Apr 11, 2015 6:16 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Re: n u c l e a r - t i t a n s [Daul vs Drustan] [M]

Post by Daul on Thu Apr 09, 2015 12:19 am

Not long after the Ignis arrived Daul stepped through the coliseum’s arches; the soles of her boots sinking slightly into pure white sand that provided a sightly contrast to the black and palladium which composed the entire venue. This place was unused for the most part until the emperor himself decreed it open for the Games. And now, he’d made them a circuit.

Trouble in paradise? She’d long since learned to associate her father’s sudden inspiration for sport and bloodletting with deeper meaning that was sometimes so controversial that she daren’t even think it into existence. Such an act would give it power.

Daul halted a few meters after entry; gazing with a calm, unreadable expression at Drustan and managing to never have had more than the faintest idea how he’d formerly propped her up in his time before becoming a Primoris and her equal. Not a hint of his complexities had reached her. Golden eyes dipped to the bangles on his wrist with the briefest flash of impressed curiosity before they then trailed to the stands as if searching for someone. Had she chosen to show up just as it had been promised she’d be welcome?

Alas, the woman on her mind aside she gave another two meters away between herself and her opponent and then stood with her arms loose at her side; her garb seemingly upgraded with a form fitting full suit of reinforced material somewhat similar (though not as advanced) to the smart fabric of the Primoris cape. A black hood was pushed back to reveal short silver hair; the suit only leaving her fingertips and visage visible.

Both arms had been loose at her side and now one rose; her right hand extending toward Drustan casually and then her palm turning to face upward while her fingers beckoned him toward her in a universal gesture.

It was time to entertain the empire.
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Re: n u c l e a r - t i t a n s [Daul vs Drustan] [M]

Post by Drustan on Fri Apr 10, 2015 12:00 am

Drustan held little interest in such petty affairs that dictated he become some one-man circus for the amusement of his Emporer.  As he watched Daul enter the coliseum  with his eyes trained to watch every nuance of her gait, he silently acknowledged that he wanted to fight her, and he’d always wanted to fight her.  However, under the circumstances it was just unfortunate that he could do little more than obey an order.  Like a puppet on metaphorical strings he took to his duty, giving only but a subtle flex of muscle for prep.  

Beads of sweat dotted his brow and rolled down his face, while his tongue wiped over his upper lip and sampled the forming saltiness.  He expected to soon taste the copper twang of blood; he was prepared for the ruthless assault Daul would likely wage on his face.  His jaw clenched in reaction to the throbbing of his cock with excitement, the head swollen and moist--a collection of precum had long since gathered at the tip set to dribble down the length and travel along almost marble carved veins.  However disagreeable the circumstances, Drustan was pleased to finally be meeting the Primoris Potentiae in battle.

At her beckoning, Drustan’s booted right foot lifted and subsequently planted itself firmly into the sand before him, establishing the first of several plodding, methodical steps towards the woman, closing the distance between them at a snail’s pace.  The crowd likely wanted an explosive opening move from one of the combatants, but what the crowd wanted was a distant thought in Drustan’s mind; he was far more concerned with not offering Daul an opening for an easy first strike.  The Amazon’s capabilities weren’t all foreign to the gladiator; her speed and – in particular – her power were at the forefront of Drustan’s considerations on how to approach her.  However, the man wasn’t prone to lengthy considerations; planning had its place, but so did decisive action—this was his preferred method.

It wasn’t until his foot crossed the invisible line separating the middle of the coliseum that Drustan made his first move, magi bubbling from the well of his core and seeping into the veins of his arms like magma in the cracks of a volcano.  The primal substance saturated the golden bangles, though with no visible effect on their construction, though undoubtedly to serve some purpose that would only become apparent when it served Drustan.  With magi humming softly in his arms, Drustan lifted them to defend his torso, fingers curling inward into loose fists, seemingly prepared to box the woman.  When she was finally just a foot outside the striking distance of his arms, his leading right foot was exchanged for his left, knees bent, left hand shooting out for a strong jab to the woman’s chin, the looming threat of a magi infused punch intentionally telegraphed.  
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