Grim Reaper Tournament (Round 1): Kanis vs. snooadie.

[Moridin]

You have a week to check in. Last person to check in posts first. You guys decide the length and time limit. Fights must be 1-5-1 or less. Good luck to all. Any further questions, PM me or leave a post. Also, ref present.

[snoogadie.]

Right, I'm here. You ok with a 1-3-1, Kanis?

[Kanis]

Sure, you go first, i still have another fight to start >.> I forgot about it

[Sirithe]

Here to cheer for Snoog. *sits and watches*

[Sekhmet]

Here to cheer for mr. forgetful (Kanis)

[snoogadie.]

Yeah, almost done. I did about half of it just then, but I have to go out now. Expect it in the next few days ... ish.

[snoogadie.]

Well, here it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a bitterly cold night in the middle of autumn. The city was silent, save for the sound of the wind whisking through the streets, weaving around the buildings and scattering the orange and brown leaves that were spread throughout. The air had the damp smell of pending rain. A streetlight flickered slightly before fizzling out.

Tom glanced slowly at the light that had been providing him some vision in the mostly dark street. He was perched on the gutter, a sword spread out in front of him on the road. He picked it up by the leather bound hilt and held it up, thumbing the edge of the two-and-a-half-foot blade. “Sharp enough…” he thought. Tom stood and took a battle stance, then proceeded to swing the sword in a few basic moves. The blade made a distinct chiming noise as it sliced through the air, the sound that can only be produced by having the sharpest steel. He brought it close to his face and saw his hazy reflection in the unpolished surface.

Tom had only recently acquired this sword and hadn’t had it polished yet. Contrary to popular belief, most swords don’t come polished. One has to do it themselves, which should be pleasurable, if the appreciate what they are doing of course. Tom replaced the sword in its scabbard on his left hip and crouched on the gutter once more. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a stick of gum and threw it in his mouth. He scrunched up the empty packaging and flicked it across the road, watching it bounce a few times on the asphalt before coming to a halt. Tom looked at his watch - 11:32. He sighed and moved into a sitting position on the curb.

He was a tall man, standing at about six feet, fairly well built and aerobically fit. He had to be for what he was about to do. For as long as he could remember, he had always loved sword fighting. His parents got him into fencing, but he didn’t like it much; far too stuck up for him, but he stayed anyway to learn the skills involved in the difficult sport. Nowadays, he was part of an underground fighting syndicate. The idea was simple: put down your name and phone number. When someone wants a fight, they call the boss and ask; he picks out a name and location at random and both fighters meet there to fight … to the death. If you don’t go, you are hunted down and killed. It was the adrenaline rush that Tom loved so much. The fact that he could be killed tonight or any other night was quite a turn on. He slowly looked up and down the street, hoping in vain that this might make his opponent hurry up. It didn’t. Tom grimaced and ran a hand through his thick brown hair. He liked to keep it relatively short, but it was very wiry.

The fight organiser had said 12:00; Tom had come early so he could take a look at the place of battle before he started fighting. It was a typical city street; the road was two lanes wide and about fifty meters long. There were five cars parked in the street, some distance apart from each other. Most of the residences had either parked in an underground car park to keep their car safe, or didn’t have one at all; the city was notoriously busy during the day and one would often be better off riding a bike or walking. There were naked trees on the sidewalk, their leaves making a carpet on the ground around them. Mostly apartment buildings lined the street, with a few general stores scattered in between. The apartment buildings were around sixty years old and each of them had a set of around ten stairs leading up to them. The style had changed a lot since then, but they had a certain charm that stopped people from re-developing the area.

Tom stood up again and walked to the other side of the street. He stopped under one of the few working lampposts and leant against it. He unzipped his matte black leather jacket and pulled out a cigarette and silver Zippo lighter. He spat his gum into the gutter, placed the cigarette in his mouth and flicked the lighter open. He scraped it against his Kevlar motorbike pants to light it, feeling the warmth of the flame on his face as he ignited the cigarette, reminding him of how cold it was tonight. He replaced the lighter in his pocket and took a long drag on the cigarette. After exhaling, the air was smoky and the aroma of the cheap tobacco filled Toms nostrils.

He looked up and down the street once more, then at his watch. 11:48. “Soon…” he thought to himself. He just had to be patient.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought I might move away from the cliche forest setting for something a little different.

[Kanis]

I think i technically lost due to time out.

[snoogadie.]

Well, I've got no issue, really. I sure as hell don't want to win by default either. Unless there is an official time out rule, I'm willing to wait.

[Moridin]

There wasn't but due to lack of participation in almost all fights except the one that's already finished, I'm making a four day post rule. Five seems too long and three too short unless both parties can agree to abide by five. We're still in the first round too and this tourney is taking forever; especially for the Grim Reaper title.

[Xellos]

you know as well as i do that it prolly wont ever finish but we can try..
and that aint fair, i dont get on every week... (j/k)

go kanis?

[Kanis]

Ohh ****s. i forgot this was here, hell i forgot GW
ummm yeah i'll try