Clash Fah

Benjamin realized that the creature was flying upwards. Benjamin thought that the creature was trying to dodge his arrows. Then he remembered about his surprise. The arrow locked onto the creature. It followed the creature upwards. Benjamin had a smirk on his face as he followed the arrow upwards. The arrow hit the beast in the wing! Benjamin didn't know how that would affect it though. He hoped that meant the creature couldn't fly anymore. Benjamin waited for the creature to fall down into the water.

James slipped the jabs deftly, dodging to Clash's left like a skilled boxer would to avoid a possible follow-up from Clash's right fist. He didn't move in to attack however, preferring to take the moment to study the imp's movements and get his timings and speed down.
The jabs wouldn't have been debilitating by themselves, but had Clash used his bone powers with them, they might've been troublesome. In addition, from the way he had resisted being thrown back by a powerful two-handed push-strike, the imp clearly possessed hardier physical attributes then the daemonslayer first suspected.
He brought up his right hand again, summoning flame to him once more. This time the flames swirled into his palm and, if Clash allowed it time to form, coalesced itself into the shape of a brilliant sphere, burning like a miniature sun.
One of James's special flame techniques, the Sunsphere.

The creature looked scared. Benjamin said, "Hold your fire!" The men stopped firing. The men grabbed the chests and headed towards the gold. They started filling up the chests. Benjamin had put back his bow, but he was still looking at the creature. The look on the crews faces could tell you how they felt. Their skin was white as snow. Even Benjamin was pretty scared. Benjamin knew it could attack at any moment. He had to be ready.

James would not be deterred. Even if Clash had thrown bone spikes that time, the daemonslayer would have withstood the pain as he took a step back, drawing back both arms and crossing them up before him, both to protect his vitals and to prepare an attack.
A flame lit itself in the palm of his right hand. Two seconds later and the flame doubled, tripled in size until it filled his armored palm, containing far more power then its size suggested. 
Shin Soulchiou Style, Orochi Naga
James lashed out at Clash with his signature technique, sweeping his right hand before him and casting a short-ranged wave of fire from his fist.
The daemonslayer was well-known for two of his fire-based ki techniques, the first of which was the Volcano Fist, a point-blank explosion whilst striking, and the other was this. With an effective range of four feet before it more or less dissipated immediately, Orochi Naga was quite powerful within that range, and it would hit as if James himself had tackled into the imp.
 

The glowing white eyes slide open, and the elf's head falls forward and slightly off center, so as to look Kayla in the eyes. A bored expression adorns his pale blue face, his ruby lips, slightly more purple from the elven wine, drooping with the lack of effort. The musical voice is low, the euphonic tone more subtle.
"You talked to her for all of a minute, Kayla. Speaking from experience, that basically means nothing."

The elf shrugs again, unmoving from his current position. The musical voice rings out again, quieter than before, with hints of both annoyance and bemusement creeping into it. 
"Good thing, too. It gives you just enough time to speak to a nice young woman, get turned down, and get over it, before we move out."

Ashton lost count of his steps, and with no point to orientate with, there was no way to find his way back. The darkness was consuming all, and while at one point he swore that he could see the outline of his hands, it was most likely a trick of his brain aided by a bit of proprioception. Walking aimlessly just wasn't going to get him anywhere, or at least not anywhere significant or meaningful. It was time to reassess and change tactics. If the landscape was empty, he needed markers. 
His arms rise into the air and he pressed his extended index fingers into the darkness. Slowly, at first, his fingers trace through the darkness leaving faint lines of light in their wake. Steadily his pace increases, as the strength of the glow bolsters. Within a few seconds two glyphs float in the darkness, casting an off white light into the abyss. His hands cut through the darkness and meet in front of him, vectors of light join together uniting the two markers. As soon as the markers unite, the shimmer and birth copies, which then shimmer and copy themselves. Within seconds an infinite number of copies materialize indefinitely into the void forming a straight line.  That's x, time for y, and z. Before the thought is completed, he has already started the next set.
Within a minute three lines, one white, one red, and the other blue, of self replicating glyphs mark three relative directions, functionally creating a north, south, east, west, up, and down1. Arching ribbons of green run from the up and down lines, to the east and west line. North and south connect to up and down with yellow ribbons. Finally, east and west connect with north and south with orange lines. Standing at 0,0,0 of his grid, Ashton slowly rotates about, hoping the light of his magic will illuminate something2.

James had no way to defend against the claws piercing into him from behind, but he had no intention of retreating to begin with. He coughed blood as the fingers lanced through him, but he did not stop. When Varina transformed her head into a true monster's maw, he simply smirked regardless of the pain.
It was a familiar situation for the daemonslayer, about to be chowed down upon by some kind of giant beast or monster. It was a situation that he never, ever feared.
The flames around him seemed to disappear as they coalesced around his right fist instead, the daemonslayer focusing all of his power there, and as Varina lunged forward to decapitate him with her jaws, James simply sought to clock her in the mouth as hard as he could. It was a strategy that previously garnered him both ridicule and acclaim, so laughably simple, yet devastatingly effective under the right circumstances.
Because James didn't seek to just punch her, he struck directly at the inside of her upper jawline. Her face might've been guarded by armored scales, but the instead of her mouth was squishy, and order of a magnitude more delicate even with the teeth. His armored, flaming fist would likely plow right through her teeth and into the soft flesh of the roof of her mouth, and while his right arm would still be savaged by the bite (especially by the lower teeth), he was more then willing to bet it would hurt a hell of a lot more for her then for him. It was the sort of move that only a madman could pull off.

When the imp threw out his right hand, James automatically covered up like a boxer. What he was most concerned about were more bone shards, and not the blood that splashed harmlessly across his arms.
Unless the imp's blood was acidic or something of course, that would suck. Claws were something he was more familiar with.
The daemonslayer defended himself expertly against the slashes, guarding well using the armored gloves he wore taking the brunt of the claw strikes. Light grooves were drawn in them from the fierceness of Clash's assault, but they held firm, and when the imp started to lift his right leg, James saw an opening for his counter-attack.
He brought both hands down on the incoming kick, not to hurt the imp, but to knock down the leg, and immediately leaned forth and lashed out with a forceful two-handed shove to the imp's midsection, to knock him back. With luck, he'd be unbalanced from the kick attempt, but the goal was to put a little breathing room between him and Clash's bone extensions.

James landed cleanly, but was immediately beset by the imp's counterattack. Bringing both hands up to grasp the bone saber, he managed to stop it mere centimeters from piercing through him. Had he not been wearing his custom gloves, blood would have been drawn just from the effort James expended holding onto the skeletal blade. As it was, the imp could probably throw his weight behind the attack and push through, but James didn't intend to give him the chance to try it out.
Seeing that the bone saber was a part of the imp, James tested out the idea that as a part of him, it could hurt him. Much like breaking the antlers on a stag, or a bull's horns, the daemonslayer let go with one armored fist, and brought it down on the bone saber, seeking to at least crack it, if not break it.

As Varina was getting up, James reached over to grab the woman by the hair on the back of her head.
Although her knife strike would find purchase in his side, his other hand shot over and gripped her wrist tightly, ensuring she could not twist it easily, or escape from him.
With a roar, the Slayer dragged her head down to meet his rising right knee. It was going to hurt.

"I mean you no harm," said the sprite, even as an arrow flew by its head, narrowly missing its skull, and landed quivering in the ground be-hind it.
 
The imp flapped its three-foot-long wings, and with a powerful gust of air, took flight to-ward the heavens, spiraling up-ward to get out of the range of the crew's projectiles, using its wings as a buffering shield between the crew and it.

Hearing the sound of the woman's voice, the angel imp hunkered over, lifting its shield.
 
Because the pale woman in the porcelain dress was so close, the imp could not get his javelin, which, when measured, was nearly nine feet long, between he and she before she sprang at his neck; in fact, the imp did not even try to, but simply let the light weapon clatter to the floor.
 
As the female sprang, the angel imp collapsed to his knees, wrapping him-self in his feathery white wings whilst moving his left fore-arm to put his shield between the left side of his neck and the female's bite. Each of his wings measured three feet long for a grand total of six feet in span.
 
The angelic imp ran his right hand through his bleach-white hair, covering the right side of his neck, the back of which his wings originated from, before stretching out his bony claws in an attempt to catch the woman by the face should she break through his defense and attack from that side.
 
She wanted to taste his flesh; he was on to her.

"Do not be afraid," said a sprite descending from the clouds. "It is only gold. I have hundreds of millions of gold and infinite treasure in my home-land, which I can provide you. I can guide you there, if you will only listen." Flapping its three-foot-long wings, the tiny angel sprite touched down on dry land, staring at the large ship, curious as to what the crew members would do.

"Garsh," said Clash, "you weigh almost two tons! It is going to be like fighting an olyphant; you're a giant! You got my name right! Clash, at your service. I'm a holy man. How you know of me I do not know, but," he put his right index and middle fingers together, touched them to his fore-head and he said, "in the words of Ertai Vexic and God the Father, Jehovah, or El-Shaddai, as some call Him, dominion and godliness, my furry friend!
 
"A demi-God, eh? Have you ever heard of Catsohori? He once compared me to those who can mediate between human and divine at will. Either way, I'm a full-human, beasty, and since you're in season, let us get this show on the road! Um, uh, it's not like I ever killed any-one, so I don't think I deserve the death penalty, so don't try to shock me to death or any-thing, okay? Can we agree to a non-lethal spar? I brought my mixed martial arts gloves," he said as he pulled the instruments out of his pockets and strapped them on, "and while they sting a bit to be punched with, they're perfectly safe."

Sitting lotus at about the center of the tatami mats, the young Lord appeared to be meditating. His breathing was calm and slow, constant, all three of his eyes closed. Thought he wore nothing on his upper body, his lower body was covered by a simply pure white pair of single weave keikogi pants. His feet like his entire upper body were bare. How long he had been here like this was an unknown, and how much longer he would be was also an unknown. However, the latter was clearly up to his partner. Though he wasn't sure why, he had mild concern for today's training with Her. Sure she was capable, but he would be very upset with himself should she be harmed beyond a certain degree. He was even confused about why he was so concerned for her to that degree. It wasn't like he would terribly maim or kill her, his wife, his Empress, meaning ultimately she'd be okay. But for some irrational reason, he was overly concerned. His confusion was an obvious indication that he still had quite a bit to learn about the small part of himself that was still human. 
@Akako Akari

(OOC: I'll use TRUE Benaires for this one, as his Split forms are busy in other storylines)
 
He hadn't used his true form in a very long time; he was always splitting his form, thereby stretching his abilities a tad bit to the point where he would be a bit confused. Never the less, he was still planting those hind paws onto the ground, as his nostrils took in the scent of another person in the distance. He was not skilled much in perfection; he was simply about brute strength, and most of the time that was not enough. He had almost killed The Parallax, as that one fight seemed to be nothing more than a warm-up, if that. It ended so quickly, with Ben basically stopping the fight overall due to Claudius suffering from broken ribs. He would have to train more if he was going match up the Caliber of a DAICHON.
He was to finally focus on this man; he looked pretty small when compared to ben's massive size and weight. Would this prove to be a disadvantage to even HIM? He had done this before when his other split form fought against Daniel Composition of Third World Enterprises. That fight was still going on, as he could sense himself about to go in for the twin as it were. "I'm fighting THIS puny human? Aw come on......he looks like an appetizer for me. Well, I'd better see what he can do then; I came all of the way here, so no need for theatrics then huh?"
 
He was to stop about 24 feet away from the stranger now; this was something benaires liked to do often; distance himself from an initiation of an attack from anyone. He wanted to set his ground, gather his data perhaps. He could feel the air pressure all around him; the breezes were kissing his furry ensemble gently. Reaching for his satchel, the mighty DAICHON was to toss it to the side for now: he would not need any healing potions or any other kind of trickery; this was a match for the win, for which the monstrous beast could take with ease. Or was Benaires being too confident already? It would take more than just specific magicks and speed to topple this big tree, as his opponent would learn soon enough. Electrical arcs began racing from the tips of his tails and up wards along his body, finally arcing to the tips of his four ears. Was he setting up something already? He was simply refreshing his electrical abilities should he need to do a direct attack on this man. Ben was beginning to get accustomed to checking his abilities before he even started fighting, just to get an idea of how we was going to approach this encounter. It was perhaps to have some kind of an attack or defense plan should something go terribly wrong.
 
"Let's get his show on the road then benny boy.." He thought to himself.
 
 
 
 

O_O
 
Ben thought to himself, "He is engaging in actual conversation? Ookkaayyy...weirdo......I'm used to just fighting and pummeling someone or SOMETHING, but I guess introducing myself would be more mannerful...."
 
"A-hem.......uhm...I go by the name of Benaires. You SMELL familiar........................strange.....My weight is variable, but average is about 3, 450 pounds 14 ounces. My height varies, but in this form, it's about eight feet and nine inches.....Why with all of the 21 questions? You do not know how to read Energy Signatures DO you friend? Oh never mind that. Martial Arts? Uhm.....I studied Mantis Fist and Jinx Palm, but I usually just beat the hell out of people or electrocute them to death. I can generate up to one million Amperes of Electrical current. Most of the time, I'm clumsily making headway through a fight. I just make it LOOK fancy if that's what you are asking. You SMELL familiar......do I KNOW you? I knew of someone named Clash....
 
He was rather an oddball; he was brash and rather testy; a brawler....sentient in his speech too. He was a nice guy. I haven't seen him in YEARS....Okay, enough chit-chat friend; You wanted me, now you are going to GET me...Please prepare thyself. You are about to fight a BEAST with Morals; almost a Demi-god if you will."
Ben sure knew how to guild the lilies!!!
 
 

Some-where on the out-skirts of a mountainous forest dotted with trees long-dead for the first, second and third months of winter, a brown-eyed youth stood alone atop a rocky precipice, warming his muscles up for the battle to come by running in place and rubbing his bare hands together. The youth had a scraggly, close-shaven beard and long, wavy, bleached-white hair, which he greased back to prevent his adversary's hands or claws finding purchase in his tresses. He weighed a meager one hundred and seventy-five pounds in his extra large white tee-shirt, bleach-white pants and generic white shoes. He stood five feet nine inches tall and had the build of an amateur body-builder. Around his neck, he sported a white, wooden cross clasped to a cheap chain neck-lace. He knelt to his right knee, bowed his head and, holding the cross in his right hand, worshipped the Lord.
 
He kissed the cross and started to pray. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. Even should ten thousand men compass me round about, I will not be afraid. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." He let the cross dangle from his neck and pressed his right palm against the soil from which a boulder protruded. His right hand curled in-to a loose fist, gentle debris falling to the earth betwixt the cracks in his fingers. Today could be his last on this earth. "Thank you, God."

With her back to the wall, Gully slumped to the ground beside Tia's southern gate.
With a certain level of serenity after the battle at Palgard, she unfolded the layers of her emerald green cloak. To her thin stomach, which gurgled quietly, she hugged two large brown gloves. Her nose popped up and she gazed into the distance before glancing side to side to check for watchers. She didn't care that she had likely been spotted by the Watch; as far as she knew, Tia was open to trade and travelers, and she had approached calmly enough. She just needed a little time . . .
Sitting the gloves to her left, Gully drew her sword from the same side with her left hand. With a wince, she used the end of the blade to pop the black gauntlet fastened to her left hand off at the wrist. She switched hands and with a little more trouble pried the second gauntlet from her hardened skin. The enchanted blade hummed quietly but was unable to cut her.
The black gauntlets lying between her curled-up knees, she slipped the other pair of gloves over her hand. Her head snapped up, eyes blazing white as the fiery-red cosmic energy of the magical items consumed and bonded with her. Glimmering, tangible threads of energy swirled around her, one beam feeding through her chest, seeming to go nowhere but into her, as if the beam dissipated upon contact with the wall behind her. Like Doji's Gloves, Aramus' Gauntlets hardened her skin.
Her head bowed forward and her eyes closed as the aura of serenity returned to her. The orbs in the back of her gauntlets pulsed softly before the red glow died out. She shifted in her suit of black armor and cast a sidelong glance down at her left pauldron. Effortlessly, but with a bit of a wince at the pieces that had fused to her now hardened skin, she peeled off layers of the damaged suit, pulling the breastplate over her head before removing her greaves and other pieces.


* * *

With the remnants of her armor gathered under her cloak and her weapons hid in the giant folds of the fabric, Gully sauntered into Tia, seeking a place where she could rest and eat. The tall, broad, armed silhouettes of members of the Watch roamed the walls behind her. She remained casually aware of the Watch's presence, her head turning as she entered the city, heading toward the nearest tavern.

A certain newlywed couple rendezvous in the midst of a quite, well kept yet empty dojo. Their goal is to continue training in order to continue growth both individually and together. However, as opposed to their more usual regiment, this would be a training session focused more towards the martial arts spectrum of things. Sometimes, one has no choice but to get up close and personal despite their forte. In such cases, one must be prepared to defend their life, even if they had nothing more than tooth and nail.
@Akako Akari