genessia | Fight for your right to parti pris (Backdated to 7/4)

Thankfully, Ted's sense for cliche prepares him for the same, ducking into limbo as the spears sailed overhead. Now that was a weapo he hadn't practiced much with. Vyers had taught him the basics with a variety, but he always drifted back to swordsmanship.

By reflex he grabbed the last one that sailed above, then turned to hurl it at one of the robots like a bolt from Zeus. All possible only by the reflex-enhancing power of life fibers, thank you very much.

He was surrounded by whichever remained, and though of another fun use for the spears. Anticipating a second volley, Ted would try to dodge one, and parry another, then retrieve it and use it as a pole vault to close the gap between his adversary and strike from on high.

That bit of extra oomph is enough to send the spear right into the robot and not only does the tip lodge out from the other side, the force also enough to knock it flat on its back. However it isn't enough to put it out of commission just yet, it manages to get to its feet though with a massive crack diagonally down its body.

The other two have gotten closer and, as such, keep their weapons on hand as they continue to circle in- but Ted is still able to get his acrobatics off since the other, still a distance away, *does* launch another spear which is parried, retrieved, then used to intercept the second, sending it flying back to smash quite ungracefully against the wall!

This leaves the closest, which twirls its spear before stopping its circling to thrust its weapon toward Ted, while the two further apart sling their own weapons at the point he stands.

These robots are made of stern stuff! What did Vyers say about what to do when faced with many adversaries?

Remember, mon ami, sometimes two enemies are better than one!

That's it! Ted barely side stepped out of the fiddle stick, clambered up and over the robot using its elongated spear as a makeshift monkey bar, then used it as a human--er, robot shield to take the brunt of the other two incoming spears.

If it made an adequate pin cushion, Ted would try and see just how much strength the life fibers would grant, attempting to hoist his pinioned foe, then throw the robot right into its fellows.

Ted displays agility that it doesn't appear the robots can keep up with. The movement is quite smooth and his friendly-fire plan goes seemingly without a hitch.

Ted finds it very simple to hoist the closest robot into the air, so once it's slung toward the other two all three are sent flying toward the closest wall, followed by an explosion so massive that it leaves an equally massive tear through the wallpaper to reveal an extremely dark scar along the metal behind it. Sadly none of the leftover weapons survived and all that is left on the floor are chunks of metal.

At the end of the hall opposite of where Ted entered there's a *click* as if the sliding doors were unlocked.

The doors lead to the final, and unnecessarily large and almost completely unoccupied room with a slightly elevated floor roughly fourty yards from the entrance. With the lights dimmed at the furthest distance, Ted may only be able to make out a silhouette of another set of armor seated upon something with a spear-tipped polearm in its right hand. The visible difference from what he had faced before is a sizable V-shaped crest from the helmet.

To his left and right are painted walls, though there are several sliding doors along the way with not a suit of armor to be seen.

Ted raised an arm to shield himself from the blast. Spectacular! He also gains newfound gratitude for the whole show. How much did all this cost, anyway? Satsuki, as ever, is an extremely generous spirit. He almost regretted that he'd have to break one more thing of hers before the day was through. He knew as surely as the sun will rise that there's another foe to be found, as singular and climactic as the first. Shouldn't keep it waiting.

Thrilling destiny lit all his steps as he made his way into the grand hall, presentation pitch perfect. He had to savor every moment of the coming duel's buildup. Instinctively, he knew this would be a test of steel, and drew his frostbrand in recognition. What did the Japanese do at times like this?

He approached, then bowed ceremoniously at whatever lay ahead, then readied his blade, saying what Vyers would've said. "En garde!"

However, Satsuki hadn't quite fulfilled her guarantee yet. A little, perhaps.

As Ted takes the long walk toward his opponent something may not seem quite right. It's quiet. Far too quiet. Alas. He does reach the shadowed being, and by the time he does the room feels cooler. It doesn't move to stand from its seated position. It raises its weapon only to slam it down upon the floor beneath him and instantly all the doors within the room slide open which releases clouds of chilled air.

An small army of Ben K units flood into the room; ten of them in front of Ted, and fifteen from behind. Groups of five from either side charge forward with their spears in hand, and quickly attempt to shift into the circling pattern from before they strike, giving him time to launch an offensive if he choses.

There. Now things have gotten crazy.

Ted thought the silence appropriately dramatic. No doubt it'd be broken by something fittingly oriental, like mad strumming on a shamisen. He was elated to the pitch of disappointment to find his anticipated duel interrupted by a mad mob of shining spears. If there were torches in the mix, he'd be able to practice evading an angry crowd. A pretty likely scenario.

Boy he wishes he had enough saved up to buy that awesome Arc Projector. Oh well, he said this would be a martial arts exhibit, and the condition still stood. One against many, eh? Boy was he in for a bad time. Help him, Vyers, you're his only hope...

"You're a fine pupil, Ted, but you have one fatal flaw."

-I trust you'll waste no time enlightening me.

"Ne te'n fai pas; you think too much.

-...pffhaha, Vyers, you're joking.

"Non! Oui, there is a time for strategy, but there is a time to cast such foolishness aside. Muscle memory, Ted. A truly great fighter has honed his wits and his strength to such a fine degree, that he knows all he needs far faster than he can think it. Do you not believe? Very well! Come, attack me! I shall observe myself in a mirror with one hand, and fend you off with the other! Allons-y!"

He got the worst of that exchange, literally beating into his head the idea that a supreme warrior can act, and act well, before he thinks. It was time for faith. As the robots circled around him, he didn't take the opportunity to dive into the fray. He closed his eyes and breathed. If he thought of something, it would be a simple strategy. He back-flipped into the fifteen behind him, reducing his exposed sides from four to three as he willingly put his back against the wall. Then he cut loose.

He let his instincts fight for him. No clever maneuvers, no predictions. There was only action and reaction. He trusted in the expertise his teachers gave him. Satsuki, Ike, and Vyers. They had given him the gift of repetition, honing his reflexes and senses to the point that they could respond automatically, as quickly and decisively as the firing of a neuron.

Icy sword in hand, Ted slashed and stabbed at every exposed part. Each robot was taken as it came, and dispatched just as quickly. It was a mad dance with over twenty partners, and yet Ted felt he knew every insane step. His double-edge met and parried the thrusting spears. He caught one in his armpit, then swung the robot around to make a path. But even then, he did not think to innovate. He didn't think at all. There was far too much information for that. He leaped, twirled, spun, and carved his way through the metal and wire, trying proving that his foolish, chilling steel was mightier than their cold, logical programming. Fate would see which prevailed.

Edited 2016-08-09 04:07 (UTC)

The battle is a thing of beauty;

Ted's tactic not only allows him to minimize his blind spots, but also keeps the row furthest back from launching their projectiles willy-nilly to add to the pressure. With the captured robot flung away, he knocks at least seven out of the way leaving him temporarily dealing with merely thirteen.

With the blade he's able to take out the units with two strikes (often leaving them split in half), though the occasional perfect strike allows him to take several down in just one (often resulting in staggering back, accompanied with an explosion).

Eventually the seven knocked aside rejoin the fray as well as the five far in the back that eventually give up on trying to pelt him from afar. However it gets a little sticky once the group is brought down to eleven.

Finding themselves unable to circle Ted, there is a point where the group back off several steps into two rows of firing lines, raise their weapons, then fling them in unison; first from the front, then the rear without signs of stopping.

Their thinning numbers gave Ted the physical and mental room necessary to adjust and slow his tempo. He'd sustained a few wounds in the mad melee; pokes and prods that left him with some minor bruises and bleeds. All flesh wounds, thankfully, and he could still swash as well as ever.

Now the problem was dealing with the spears at hand as well as the perpetual volley from afar. That they came in unison was probably better tidings than a continual assault, else his rhythm would be ruined. Still, it was hard to get in any more licks while the waves of spears fired unceasingly like the tides. Each strike had to be considered in light of the fact that what looked like an opening might just as easily be a pore for a javelin to find its way.

But with fewer numbers came greater opportunities. Ted could let his unconscious frenzy relax and make way for another idea of dubious intelligence. The hints were dropping just as fast as his foes. The explosions. These combustible robots may have the seeds of their own demise built-in. It was worth a try. When an opening was given to slash another in twain, he took the opportunity to fling it towards the back line. If it went as he expected, it'd burst to hell and take its allies with it. In this way, each felled robot would provide a bomb to further cull the far ranks. He'd be sure to save one for their apparent leader, too.

Edited 2016-08-11 02:25 (UTC)

The leader in question hadn't budged an inch after signaling for the horde to come in, but rest assured it had been paying attention to Ted's battled to the very end. What this will mean in the future, if it will at all, remains to be seen.

Ted's strategy doesn't go flawless at first, simply knocking them away isn't enough to trigger a detonation. However should he strike just the critical spot before (or even after) launching, the results are predictably better. The explosions, wild and violent as they may be, are enough to temporarily lock-stun the spear flingers and, in the end, make it far simpler for him to take the remaining group out.

The pattern also makes it easy for him to leave one remaining, which is kite-able due to its insistence on trying to thrust its weapon into his sword-swinging foe.

The lights above the shadowed robot finally turn on, and is what finally brings Yamato Man to it's feet, twirls his weapon over his head, then drops into a slightly crouching battle stance. It otherwise doesn't move from its position. Almost makes it too easy a target for Ted to robo-nade, doesn't it?

Also it would be a simple guess as to which robot master is Satsuki's favorite. It's just a shame she doesn't have access to the personality chips.

Fly well, robo-nade! May you soften this dishonorable bolt-bucket as much as his flunkies did Ted. He had no idea what to make of their boss. What sort of duelist summons his gang to weary his foe before their fight commenced? The nerve! Clearly it only had victory, not romance, in mind.

If that's the way it wants to play it, fine! Ted would, with a conspicuous absence of ceremony, follow up his explosion with a helm-breaker, leaping after the makeshift bomb to try and split his foe's head in two. It's a good thing Ted didn't know of Star's affection for this one, otherwise he'd feel sorry for having to break it so soon.

Fly well it does, and there is a moment in which Yamato Man brings his weapon forward before it's lost in the violent explosion. Once it clears and Ted is coming down upon him, he sees the robot master twirling his spear like some sort of helicopter blade.

It's clear that whatever damage was done wasn't enough. And if that weren't enough the speed at which it spins seems to be enough to deflect Ted's overhead blow and, unless he can control his momentum, himself as well.

Either way, unlike Hard Man, this one doesn't leave him much time to breath. It attempts to predict where Ted will land then thrusts his polearm in that direction which double-whammies with the tip of the spear flying in his direction as well.

The deflection sends Ted tumbling head over heels as his force is repelled, in standard martial arts fashion. They're always saying to use one's force against one, and so his enemy had. As he flew back, Ted got the measure of his final opponent. He was not Hard Man; no idle beating post for him to wail on at will. His defenses were too fine for that. So he'd have to be finer, more deliberate, more acute.

In a manner fitting of the attitude, he halted his tumble and kipped up with airy grace. An easy thing to do for one who took himself so lightly. It allowed him enough time to barely sidestep the spear and its child. If he shot at him again, he'd try to swipe the projectile away with his sword. Not because it was easier than simply removing himself, but because it was harder. He needed to hone his accuracy, and fast. As though he were fighting a fan, and needed to stab precisely at the opening between the whirling blades. Or else...was there another way?

There might be. But first he had to close the distance. A frontal assault wouldn't work, so Ted needed to test Yamato's defenses, and see what might. He dove for a piece of rime-encrusted metal, then flung it at his foe. Obviously it wouldn't explode this time, but it would gauge just how keen his spear was. He'd keep his eyes steadily focused on him while rapidly closing the distance, icebrand in hand.

Yamato Man did not fire a second time. In fact, once Ted was out of the way, it didn't make an effort to pursue after him; it was as if something else was more important.

So when the metal is slung in his direction, Yamato Man is already on the move in the direction he fired his weapon to...

.. Retrieve the spearhead, so he could place it back upon the pole. Because of the momentum it isn't too difficult for him to evade the path of the projectile! Still, this also leaves him with his back to his closing in opponent and it just might be the opening Ted needs to lay on some damage.

All right, there isn't any 'might' about it.

That was new. The spears from his fellows were so frequent and seemingly infinite, Ted never would have thought that they needed them back till he saw it with his own two eyes.

There's something like temptation as he considered whether to lay into his backside. A stupid thing to do in any contest of arms, and yet not entirely chivalrous. Then again, his front was well guarded by his whirling spear. This may be the only opportunity to get the upper hand.

Giving in, he lunges with his frostbrand, seeing if he can't made its clockwork a little colder.

Some robot masters can deflect the powers of ice with the greatest of ease.

Judging by the way the blade plunges into Yamato Man, it goes to show that it is not one of them and is left with a rather large, frosted over gash across its back impact. If anything inside has been frozen it isn't obvious. There's no roar of pain or cry of unfairness; the opponent simply turns around with weapon once more perfectly assembled.

Yamato Man leaps back to try and create some distance between itself and Ted then, after twirling its weapon over its head, hunkers down into a position that suggests he's going to charge- not unlike a scene in a samurai film. For the moment it doesn't make any sudden movements. However a hum does emanate from his body, and eventually steam rises from its body.

Ted flashed a smile as the blade struck true, rejoicing in his solid hit, even if it had been treacherously made from behind. Is he, gasp, becoming a pragmatist? Perish the thought!

Then again, drubbing him with two dozen goons forfeit Yamato Man from all manly honor. Why shouldn't it be slain like a rat? What claim had it to noble combat?

Yet Ted couldn't quite resist the temptation to meet what looked to be a charging bull. Surely it had something fateful in store. And yet, less than honorable thoughts filled his head. He thought back to when Koishi had given him the gauntlets, and what they could be best used for. He closed his eyes, concentrating. His brain tried to work out the physics behind his latest maneuver. If his opponent's back was the surest spot, so be it. All he had to do is find a way to gain permanent access.

He ran forward, with his left arm in front trying to conceal his right. Even now, the spectral hand emanating from the gauntlet was grasping his blade at a distance. He would not show Yamato Man his maneuver till it was too late. His forward rush dared Yamato man to unleash whatever attack it was planning. For his own part, Ted would keep a vigilant eye, attempt an evasion, and then flank. If his mind could manage the task, his left fist and both feet would manage his enemy from the front. From behind would be his sword, ready to finish its work, attached by the mystic telekinesis provided by his right glove. It would be clumsy work, but it might be enough. He would attempt to answer the riddle of whether one man can harry his foe from either side.

The moment Ted took a step forward, Yamato Man charged as well with the spear raised up to shoulder length and at a speed perhaps slightly faster than expected thanks to the time it took to charge- Thankfully Ted didn't concentrate long enough for his opponent to rush at top speed!

Yamato's technique is both hidden and not; it isn't until he's in striking distance that he swings his spear in an upward diagonal arc while also slamming his lead foot downward to force his charge to a screeching halt. Since Ted managed to evade it, the only result is a long gash against the back wall, and the chair it was previously sitting on splits into two.

Ted seems to find himself in just the right position to evade the attack then counter in little time. The blade strikes true, and the moment it sinks in deep enough, a massive cloud of smoke follows, along with several bursts of sparks all while crystalized frost spreads over its back.

Eventually the glow of Ted's opponent's eyes vanish once it entirely becomes an ice statue. But at the very least it's in a very cool pose. Yamato Man would have wanted it that way.

Ted's eyes and and breath showed their awe as he looked upon his frigid foe. Yamato Man had threatened a mortal blow that would have cleaved him asunder, only to be narrowly avoided and paid in kind with an icy stab from behind. Only seconds of drama that Ted would need minutes to fully appreciate.

His foe had looked on, full of hubris from atop his oriental throne as his minions overwhelmed. Then, in poetic irony, he had destroyed his proud perch and received a boreal blade in the back all at once. Dishonor revenged dishonor, and for his treachery, Yamato Man was suitably frozen, as though delivered to the ninth circle of hell. Ted wondered if he shouldn't name his sword Cocytus.

Battle ended and enjoyed, Ted wondered how to pay his last respects to the trials. Victory at last! He knew things would work for his good, of course. The Fool always imagines thus. And yet how sweet it was, even if counted upon. Should he bow? Should he dance? Should he make a speech of gratitude for all who'd combined to support him?

Ah, but he remembered his theology. "Giving thanks always for all things unto God". He quickly knelt down and prayed a prayer of thanks, both for security and for victory. That, at least, must be proper. It was short and sweet.

He rose again, feeling glorious. It was time for impropriety. He hollered. "Star, Moon, Death, the trial has ended! The test is vanquished; victory is here, at long last! Peace and praise to you all; we've won!" It seemed to him a thing worth celebrating communally. Star had armed his flesh with threads of power. Moon had armed his limbs with the armaments of Old Hell. Death had armed his spirit with determination. Victory belonged to their blessed quartet.

There was just one issue. "Now...how do I get out of here?"

The moment Ted stopped speaking, a section of the ceiling above the throne area opens up, which lowers a turf-floored lift to the ground. Ideally Ted would want to hop onto that (and no handlebars, of course) to get a free ride back up to the surface where Satsuki, and likely the rest of his company, would be waiting for him.

Truth be told, the fight didn't go the way Satsuki has expected, but she was neither pleased or displeased with the results of the battle. She wanted to see him pushed to his very limit, and in her opinion she hadn't witnessed that. Still, the overall performance was beyond a passing mark.

Anyhow, it probably isn't any surprise at all to Ted that, when he sees her, she isn't smiling. "We witnessed the battle in its entirety. Well done, Satchel."

Ted's beaming, though it dimmed somewhat when he saw Satsuki without such a smile. Then again, she was the stoic. Perhaps she saw it as her duty to temper his enthusiasm, or something.

"Thank you," he said, still resonating with the afterglow of success. He truly did feel accomplished, and Satsuki's compliment, however formal, served to confirm every wonderful thing. There was only one thing left: the long-awaited 3-star uniform. But he wouldn't ask for it; he couldn't. Oh, he wanted to. Every inch of him was begging for the reward. But he knew it would be given in the fullness of time, and he wouldn't diminish the glory of it for the world with impatience. For now he smiled at the company, eager to embrace and give assurance all.

The feeling of accomplishment isn't something that Satsuki is going to shoot down, of course. She's placed a bit of hope in him even though he doesn't work for her- It wouldn't be the first though, that honor goes to someone else, even if their relationship is.. Rather rocky at the moment.

That's a story for another time.

Satsuki raises her left hand, within it a white jewelbox, which she holds out to Ted. BUT FIRST she goes into a long winded speech about inspiration, power, hard work. All that good stuff. Eventually, that comes to and end.

"Theodore Satchel. In due time your new uniform will be granted as promised. Today, however, I would like to present this symbol of proof to commemorate your achievement."

She opens the box, inside be a pin which Ted may or may not recognize designed as a set of three stars.

Ted's not one to miss out on long-winded speeches. He listens with all eagerness and no duty, drinking in every word. He was a little disappointed not to be able to show off his prize to his loved ones whose support made it possible, but good things come to those who wait. Eyes aglow, he looks at the pin. "It's...it's beautiful." His eyes hardly felt worthy to look upon it.

He let out a trembling laugh, when joy and awe dance around one another. "It's...a cross. No, it's three crosses; a Trinity! Oh, thank you, Star!" He can't control himself, he's coming in to embrace Satsuki, his brilliant, shining Star.

Well that actually makes Satsuki rather happy, even if her expression doesn't show it. While it is true she likes to hear herself talk, she doesn't get as many opportunities to bellow out a good address outside of the morning classes- And speaking of which it won't be long before the students and faculty will be arriving.

The other surprise is the joyful reaction of the pin. She can't help but feel there is a slight misunderstanding of what they're supposed to represent but why ruin a good thing at this point? Whatever it ends up meaning to him could be seen as its own importance.

Then, there is the issue of the embrace. Were she a cat she'd go into full hackling mode but, thankfully there is a counter-plan. In fact she never thought the day would come where she would actually have to initiate Operation: Interrupting Koishi Hugs.

"Komeiji." She murmurs, with an edge of urgency in her tone. But now lets just hope Koishi actually intercepts the hug rather than sandwich her between them.

Koishi had been there watching the whole time, sitting quietly in full uniform. She would only interfere if she was needed but all of this action was getting her more and more excited... but she had to stay put... but she was excited! ...but she had to stay put...

And then Satsuki called for her.

With that single utterance a green missile shot toward the two and attaching herself to Ted, tentacles and all, nearly knocking him over and successfully intercepting the dreaded hug Satsuki as about to receive.

"Mister Spaaades!" She laughed. "I'm so proud of you! You did so well! It's absolutely amazing!" And on and on and on, lifting him off the ground and spinning him around until he was more than a little dizzy.

It probably would have been fine if he wasn't being lifted so high!

Re: Contrary to popular belief, I am alive.

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