[It's all too easy to duck and dodge some kind of sign that he's some great person and living up to the legacy of martial nobility left to him by his vaulted ancestor. He hasn't felt like he's living up to anything for a long time. Everything he touches seems to get messed up because he can't get out of his own damn way. He's so sick of himself.
How many times will his other selves take up the slack when he tries to retreat? He's drawn to Monsun's shores like a siren calls to sailors. It's an out and he takes it. The light turns emerald green and the world he'd been trapped in gives way to the familiar scuffed and battered by battle and age apartment rooftop he's known all his life. Buildings rise all around him. They're empty, some are crumbling with age. He is the noble, meant to wait and that's exactly what he does.
It's all he's good at. Dirk rests the dull edge of his sword against his shoulder as the scuff of sneakers briefly catch his attention. Lightning cracks briefly illuminating the trio standing together under the ugly sky. The roof is wide and flat, the perfect kind of place to throw down. If there had been railings they rusted and fell apart long, long ago. The exit from the roof is shut tight and a heavy sense of anticipation and danger fills the air.
No one speaks. They stand silently until intruded upon. The sandy haired blond teenager that looks so much like Dirk turns and walks to the right side of the roof. The girl with sharp horns and a shark tooth kind of smile walks away to the left. She plants her cane tip down on the roof. Dirk walks slowly back to the edge of the roof and studies the intruder.]
No. I'm not going anywhere. [Maroon light ripples and spreads up his arms like the lightning spreading over the thick dark green clouds.]
There's only one way you'll get me to listen to anything. [Dirk stabs a finger at his opponent, sword held in his right hand. He brings the blade up, closing both hands around the hilt and launches forward in a blur of speed.
Dirk Strider | Open
How many times will his other selves take up the slack when he tries to retreat? He's drawn to Monsun's shores like a siren calls to sailors. It's an out and he takes it. The light turns emerald green and the world he'd been trapped in gives way to the familiar scuffed and battered by battle and age apartment roof top he's known all his life. Buildings rise all around him. They're empty, some are crumbling with age. He is the noble, meant to wait and that's exactly what he does.
It's all he's good at. Dirk rests the dull edge of his sword against his shoulder as the scuff of sneakers briefly catch his attention. Lightning cracks briefly illuminating the trio standing together under the ugly sky. The roof is wide and flat, the perfect kind of place to throw down. If there had been railings they rusted and fell apart long, long ago. The exit from the roof is shut tight and a heavy sense of anticipation and danger fills the air.
No one speaks. They stand silently until intruded upon. The sandy haired blond teenager that looks so much like Dirk turns and walks to the right side of the roof. The girl with sharp horns and a shark tooth kind of smile walks away to the left. She plants her cane tip down on the roof. Dirk walks slowly back to the edge of the roof and studies the intruder.]
No. I'm not going anywhere. [Maroon light ripples and spreads up his arms like the lightning spreading over the thick dark green clouds.]
There's only one way you'll get me to listen to anything. [Dirk stabs a finger at his opponent, sword held in his right hand. He brings the blade up, closing both hands around the hilt and launches forward in a blur of speed.
[S] Dirk: Reject.
ooc: Room and move set are here.]