06-28-2017, 08:17 AM
Lightning struck him in the form of terror, true realization overtook the Ace’s senses faster than the daunting swoop of the scythe hitched to Redgrave’s heel. The crackle of energy charged in his hand but was jarred by the boiling pain of mutilation as the slash embedded upon its mark. Agonizing milliseconds passed and the steamrolling burst of magic crippled Dante as he was hurtled across the arena, tossing the whiplashed demon hunter out of sight like a scrap of litter.
Following the slick withdraw of the blade was a fountain of blood gushing out of the wizard’s skin, the pain was that of a sledgehammer carving Gildarts’ steely flesh, skinning him alive with pain that made him wish for the end. “Ugh, I’m getting ttoo old for tthis,” he hacked out a globule of blood as he forced his strength up against the mountain of collapsing gravity on his shoulders.
Dante’s porcelain skin had been cracked like a vase with gore trickling in a stream parting just above his eyebrow. It dribbled past his neck and onto the metallic rim of the demon killer’s restraining electric collar. A scream echoed from beyond the barrier that both proudly standing gladiators had barely given a glimpse to, now Gil was reminded he wasn’t the only one corralled into battle.
“Listten, kid, iff you give up now, I don’tt have tto hurtt ya,” Gildarts dizzily offered as he straightened his hobbled back. Crick! One of the disks clicked back into place. “I hatte going easy.”
“Kid? Easy? Ha, yeah right,” the thirty-ish year old quickly calibrated his next move with the swiftness of his experienced hands, “You’re basically half-dead anyway.”
Kids. These. Days.
A gushing bolt of magic torched invisibly across dirt and slammed into the Nephilim from above, inches before he could evenly mount some bazooka-type gizmo on his forearm. Gildarts had always been against spanking, but this guy was now tasting the dirt he deserved.
The unrelenting devil slayer struggled against the demanding weight of transparent gravity as his veins bulged out of his skin. While he couldn’t quite will himself to stand, Redgrave did have the willpower to concentrate on the enemy that so casually strut toward him, granting him an opportunity.
With one hell of a kick to Dante’s shoulder, beams of sizzling amethyst frizzled forth in an onslaught of lasers, each shrapnel spying the crash mage as their target. Like meteorites, they streaked across the air as wisps of their tails dissipated and they continued to bound forward. Their unsuspecting target trudged on, across his torso was his hollow gauntlet for an arm, the scalding beams sliced into his skin transforming wrinkled burns into thick-pinched scars.
Torment scalded his right thigh, another jeweled beam burned through the bone of his shoulder causing shockwaves of pain to quake through his being, Gildarts toppled over like a crumbling skyscraper and in the crunch of grating his teeth bits of the bone chipped off.
Remember why you fight. The noble mage shook himself free of the torment. There was the power, the triumph over anguish, and then there was the cliché sprightly faces of everyone his magic had ever saved.
The warmage drove on, each speck skimming his skin and filling his pain meter hairs from the brim of overflowing. It was time for this fight to be over. There was no justice in taking his beating any longer. The Ace’s pace stopped as he looked down at his wriggling foe, the unquenchable thirst for fight was still in the devil hunter’s eyes and the mage had the option of stopping everything then and there, but one thing was known for sure, Gildarts had never been known for his peace.
Immediately his shoulders squared naturally as argent light surrounded his united hands, then a bold emblem woven of divine light appeared in front of the auburn-haired master, expanding nearly as tall as he was.
“Itt is a custtom of my guild thatt I offer you tthe chance tto surrender unttil I reach the countt of tthree,” Gildarts stated gravely, his tongue scraping on the sharpened parts of his teeth.
“One.”
“Tch. What, you expect me to grovel to the likes of you and your stutter? Never going to happen,” the gravity binding his opponent was released.
“Two. Even in the face of defeat, will you not surrender? You will lose more than this battle...” Gildarts persuaded, hunting for hope.
Dante stood on his feet against the raging white power of the shielding radius of the spell being targeted at him, “Try me,” and with a readied smile the Son of Sparta declared, “I live for the fight.”
“Three.”
A wave of immeasurable cataclysmic magic combusted with godly howls of thunder and filled the stadium with a glittering blizzard of white.
[spoiler]
Following the slick withdraw of the blade was a fountain of blood gushing out of the wizard’s skin, the pain was that of a sledgehammer carving Gildarts’ steely flesh, skinning him alive with pain that made him wish for the end. “Ugh, I’m getting ttoo old for tthis,” he hacked out a globule of blood as he forced his strength up against the mountain of collapsing gravity on his shoulders.
Dante’s porcelain skin had been cracked like a vase with gore trickling in a stream parting just above his eyebrow. It dribbled past his neck and onto the metallic rim of the demon killer’s restraining electric collar. A scream echoed from beyond the barrier that both proudly standing gladiators had barely given a glimpse to, now Gil was reminded he wasn’t the only one corralled into battle.
“Listten, kid, iff you give up now, I don’tt have tto hurtt ya,” Gildarts dizzily offered as he straightened his hobbled back. Crick! One of the disks clicked back into place. “I hatte going easy.”
“Kid? Easy? Ha, yeah right,” the thirty-ish year old quickly calibrated his next move with the swiftness of his experienced hands, “You’re basically half-dead anyway.”
Kids. These. Days.
A gushing bolt of magic torched invisibly across dirt and slammed into the Nephilim from above, inches before he could evenly mount some bazooka-type gizmo on his forearm. Gildarts had always been against spanking, but this guy was now tasting the dirt he deserved.
The unrelenting devil slayer struggled against the demanding weight of transparent gravity as his veins bulged out of his skin. While he couldn’t quite will himself to stand, Redgrave did have the willpower to concentrate on the enemy that so casually strut toward him, granting him an opportunity.
With one hell of a kick to Dante’s shoulder, beams of sizzling amethyst frizzled forth in an onslaught of lasers, each shrapnel spying the crash mage as their target. Like meteorites, they streaked across the air as wisps of their tails dissipated and they continued to bound forward. Their unsuspecting target trudged on, across his torso was his hollow gauntlet for an arm, the scalding beams sliced into his skin transforming wrinkled burns into thick-pinched scars.
Torment scalded his right thigh, another jeweled beam burned through the bone of his shoulder causing shockwaves of pain to quake through his being, Gildarts toppled over like a crumbling skyscraper and in the crunch of grating his teeth bits of the bone chipped off.
Remember why you fight. The noble mage shook himself free of the torment. There was the power, the triumph over anguish, and then there was the cliché sprightly faces of everyone his magic had ever saved.
The warmage drove on, each speck skimming his skin and filling his pain meter hairs from the brim of overflowing. It was time for this fight to be over. There was no justice in taking his beating any longer. The Ace’s pace stopped as he looked down at his wriggling foe, the unquenchable thirst for fight was still in the devil hunter’s eyes and the mage had the option of stopping everything then and there, but one thing was known for sure, Gildarts had never been known for his peace.
Immediately his shoulders squared naturally as argent light surrounded his united hands, then a bold emblem woven of divine light appeared in front of the auburn-haired master, expanding nearly as tall as he was.
“Itt is a custtom of my guild thatt I offer you tthe chance tto surrender unttil I reach the countt of tthree,” Gildarts stated gravely, his tongue scraping on the sharpened parts of his teeth.
“One.”
“Tch. What, you expect me to grovel to the likes of you and your stutter? Never going to happen,” the gravity binding his opponent was released.
“Two. Even in the face of defeat, will you not surrender? You will lose more than this battle...” Gildarts persuaded, hunting for hope.
Dante stood on his feet against the raging white power of the shielding radius of the spell being targeted at him, “Try me,” and with a readied smile the Son of Sparta declared, “I live for the fight.”
“Three.”
A wave of immeasurable cataclysmic magic combusted with godly howls of thunder and filled the stadium with a glittering blizzard of white.
[spoiler]
Quote:800 words on the dot![/spoiler]
Wall was used to deflect the oncoming attack but the side of Gil’s organic bicep got pretty sliced up about an inch deep (like the part where you see people get tattoos, directly THERE) with the Gilga heel/leg blades. The blade sunk in and immediately lurched back out.
Gildarts stretched his back and used Advanced Regen for 1 SP.
Dante is pinned with Gil’s Atlas move and invaluable dramatic tension builds.
Demon slayer uses this opportunity to aim Nightmare-β at Gil (laser version, birdshot style)
Shrapnel of lasers from the above move hit G in the shoulder, thigh, and one hit his silver arm. There were various other mentions of sizzling of burns.
For the finale, Gildarts used T3 Super move: Fairy Law (3 SP)
(also I tried to frame it like dante was going to counter)
Used SP this round: 4
SP remaining 5/11
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus