Private roleplay between Broodcast and Cela, started on 22 January 2021
(Setting: Grasslands. Wildlife minimal, no mammals and mostly consisting of insects. Tall grass with clearings of leveled grass. Little to no trees, two at most within five miles. Air clear, sky blue. Clouds but not too many.)
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Broodcast
The wind blew at about five miles per hour, give or take. The clear air was refreshing as it traveled through their nasal cavities. The sun had been at its peak and light covered the green land like a blanket. So bright and clear. The heat was no where close to moderate, and bordered a sense of chill similar to that of a brisk night. Any silence that had been broken managed to only find restlessness with the wind making the blades of grass move in sequence as it traveled over the land. Its feet deepen their stance into the ground, feeling the dirt and rubble underneath their heels and between their toes.
12 was the first of it’s kind to be involve with any form of combat in humanoid form. It’s feet pointed and grotesque, fit for a predator in the wild as each of the three digits sported sharp black-clawed nails at the tips. It’s hands pail in comparison for while they shared the obsidian-colored nails, five digits similar to an ordinary human opened palm up before closing into a tight fist. Each knuckle cracks on both hands in perfect synchronization. White from their chrysalis-covered helm down to their primal footing, their otherworldly appearance had a visual similarity to the muscle tissue under most humans skin as multiple ripples were visible along the surface of their abnormal pectorals and abdominals.
12 rose it’s arms and spread it’s legs some. As if it wore them before gesturing, titanium-infused metal pauldrons, vambrace, and gauntlets appeared on both limbs. Chased with silver in a Victorian design, similar pieces of armor appeared around the shins.
Inhaling through hidden nostrils due to their organic helm, 12’s muscles visibly expand and grow slightly in size under the armor before reverting back to normal size. The definition and thickness of the skin shows a fortitude and durability in external comprehension in terms of foreign conditions (such as temperature) affected 12 minimally. Not even veins could be seen under muscle. (C)
With their anatomical construction alone through means of appearance, it’s clear while humanoid and standing at a decent six-foot-six that 12’s genetics surpassed a peak human. It holds it right hand in front of it with bent arm. Palm raised upwards, it lets out a sinister hiss similar to that of a hostile snake though deeper in bass. Magical reserve used, a test flame emerges in their palm and raising at about five inches in height before diminishing and being snuffed out with the closing of their hand. Seconds pass, five to be exact, before a blue aura flickers over their whole body. 12 looks forward with anticipation. ((E))
Cela
Blue clouds floated along the air, swimming, sinking, gliding along as the whispers traveled along them. The way the blue moves bringing to mind the way a woman would dance, slowly to entice the eye of someone. However, as a being moved through the clouds, steps silent as the clouds shifted and began to cling to the body of the being. A tilt of her head, the emotionless quirk of her lips as she heard a challenge given to her. She had no intention of denying, even agreeing on their terms. A small twist of her wrist brought the clouds to swirl before her, slamming together to condense into a thick vein in front of her, the portal forming as she steps through it and onto the land of the challenger. Emptiness, she thought with a lift of her brow, her eyes gazing around before the gilded silver landed on the other being.
Another small twist of her wrist and the portal behind her closed with a harsh scream ripping through the air, cutting off as quickly as it started. Moving to the edge of the clearing she stopped and lowered the cowl of the cloak that always shrouded her from view. The intense blue hue of her skin nearly glowed in the light, making the silver highlights in her dark blue braid glimmer as she moved her head. The cloak went to the ground, drifting from her fingers as she removed the twin short swords from her thighs. The belt knives following quickly as she removed the dirks hidden around her body. The throwing knives tied firmly on her upper left arm joined the other weapons, along with both boot knives. She was now weaponless, beyond what she could do with her hands along. A soft murmur even caused the blue mists to lighten, giving a vague blur of the lines of her body. The terms now met, as she stepped away from her weapons
As she took her place before the being, her appearance would now be visible. Scars, cruelly white across her skin, the fitted leather armor that she was attired in. Designed to fit her frame, to shift and move as she did without causing any friction. Half calf boots were tied tightly, and her feet remained firm even as she loosened her knees slightly. Standing at seven foot and two inches tall, Cela gave a towering impression, only enhanced by the wisps of blue that spun off from her. All around her, the soft whispers of the dead could be heard, a calling out, pleas to be saved. At her feet a slightly different coloring showed on the ground, darker and withering within of things trying to escape a perpetual hell. A roll of her shoulders showed the clearly defined muscles of the female. Riding high on her chest bone a oily, harsh black tattoo "LOVE IS PAIN" stained her skin, with a small knife shaped amulet that glinted against the black.
She merely nodded at the other, mentally taking herself though what she could see and guess of the being before her before indicating she was ready.
Broodcast
Not one strike but two. Quick practice punches into the air in front of its abdominals, aiming downward and within its own personal space. The speed and force enough to make visible sound. Subtle like the wind when it blows. Noticeable as anything that could pierce the very air would’ve been. The position it took following this had the traits of compact defense with room for far-reaching offense. A style that the creature had practically been programmed in, with a sense of mastery far surpassing that of an adept practitioner.
12 closes their hands into tight and straightened fists, and raises them so that the tops of the knuckles were just above the forehead. Their body’s organic-enforced skin and muscles audibly shift as their forearms point toward the female opponent, elbows adjusting outward slightly. The hips of 12 face forward before walking forth just a few steps as their feet visibly switch between digging into the ground and a light prancing shuffle. The footwork helped get them adjusted to the surroundings on a grounded level.
Their adjustments through feet, toes, and heel finish. In a sprinting dash they close the distance with more than a few steps in their rush. Their arms shift with their body, lowering out of the defensive stance but keeping their arms from fully straightening out. The right leg of 12 reels back after the left foot stomps down to add pressure and balance in their partial stance. The thigh muscle tightens on their right leg as it raises just slightly above their waist. With swiftness and speed that break the air similar to the punches prior, the leg comes down. Foot stiffened as it struck down to her own shin and calf, the intent had been to begin striking low and test the distancing. Keeping the movement linear and fast paced with little to no room for improvisation as the next move in their technique began calculating accordingly.
Cela
Cela remained silent as the intensity of her gaze heightened, the hollow sounds from their hand movements easily heard by Cela in the otherwise silent ground. She braced as they sprang forward, the speed and strength of it raising her respect even as she tensed her core and loosened her hips. Rolling onto the balls of her feet, she jumped into a backflip, avoiding the hit to her legs by mere inch. Their leg, however, hit her braid as she was flipping, causing it to wrap around her arm. The solid thud of her landing, coupled with the grunt from deep in her chest as she steadied herself. Right leg and arm stretched out to the side, her left hand steepled to prevent her from falling and her left leg bent tightly. She raised her head and the quick grin that flashed across her face was only seen for a second before she moved.
Matching her speed to that of the other, she crossed the three feet that seperated them in a second or less. Rather than going for a body hit, she instead rolled forward directly in front of them, her legs reaching out to attempt to twist and trip the being. Her action caused a large dust cloud to pump up from the ground, her larger than normal body size and weight giving an unintentional cover for her movements.
Broodcast
Dealing with an opponent with height advantage proved to be difficult. The arm span as well as leg’s reach stumped their own. Even by a few inches there could be no room for error. The very breeze that picked up from the woman’s legs during the backflip proved formidable. Closing distance could not be an issue for this female opponent. 12 having missed uses the striking leg to regain light footing as the top of the foot plants softly and toes rest but remain ready.
The movements their opponent displayed matched and rivaled that of 12’s own. A frustrating expression of grit teeth emerged on their visible mouth with a sound only describable as machine-like, deep based and formless like that of a fan spinning at high speeds. Just as they could carefully assume rather than precisely calculate without further study. The distance closer absurdly fast. Caution shot through the body. While remaining alert and ready, the best action for 12 has been taken as they bounced their front foot’s toes up to aid in backing up. The goal’s attempt to gain more distance proved fruitful as light footwork followed in linear sequence.
Not taking their sights off of her movements, unsure what the attempted attack could be, it finalized in playing things safe. Cautiously each long striding step of three backwards consisted of flat footing. Each step applied less then half of their weight. The jump back an additional foot and landing with their left leg put out in front. Their leg doesn’t press down with additional weight for balance sake, all weight shifted back to the right. Without further hesitation, another kick shoots out. The hip angles with the kick rather than it being straightened for a frontal kick. The left leg extended out had now raised to coincide the hip’s twist and rather than aiming low, it is raised for mid-section height. The direction of the kick swung inward with out the leg bending at the knee to ensure full distance.
Cela
As the dust quickly settled on her, giving her a very monotone look, she twisted her hips and propelled herself upwards until she stood on her feet again. A few stray strands of her hair floated around her face as she bent slightly at the waist, keeping her shoulders, elbows and wrists loosely before her, giving her a nearly humpback look. Tufts of dust rose from their feet with each move, and she rolled her neck.
Being more prepared this time, she allowed the kick to hit her stomach, taking the brunt of it on her hip as she twisted slightly on impact. With a defying quickness, her hands would attempt to grasp their foot and ankle in a tight hold, with the purpose of throwing herself backwards, therefore throwing them behind her with a very solid thump if she was able to fully grasp them.
Broodcast
The momentum had ceased. Contact had been made. Less than a few seconds could be taken to calculate this accordingly, from the fragment of strength applied to their opponent’s reaction. And then it happened. The grapple. The eagerness and hostility built in their stomach, witnessing an opponent take an attack to allow for better possibility to counter. Utter brilliance rooted in fighting instinct.
Although preparing for impact the thought of all the dirt and rubble flying about had been an annoyance. Had they been more dependent on breathing similar to a human they’d be coughing. Suddenly the thought hit them like the impact of being thrown into the ground once her ankle grab had tossed them behind her. Their heavy body didn’t fly far. Upon landing they brought their arms in and tucked the upper body to roll only slightly.
The distance between them did not progress further. The creature exhaled a hiss of disgust as it composed itself. Now in crouched position, not fully facing their opponent as she had been now on their left side due to the angling of their role, it applied a tactic through moderate observation. The application being the action of driving clawed fingers into the ground, burying their left hand into the dirt between them. With a flexing of their arm, 12 hurls an amount of dirt gathered between fingers and a cupped palm. The strength used to toss the dirt at her similar to their prior punches as seen by the swiftness of the arm movement. The hand tilts and empties just as it met eye level with 12, so the dirt traveled farther instead of higher. Even with the decent amount, should it not have made direct contact with her body, debris was still a factor judging by how her movements prior kicked a lot of it up.
Cela
Cela cursed softly as she twisted quickly to face the other being better, a slight favoring in the hip that had been hit. The cloud of dust that had risen on his impact was slowly settling back towards the ground as she kept a close watch on his movements. Knowing she had lacked the needed power of the throw, she did not expect it to have any major impact on the other. The slightest lift of the corner of her lip as she seen what the other being was looking to do. However, rather than turn from the dirt thrown, she ran into the cloud.
Tucking her head down, she calculated the few steps needed to reach the spot she needed. Four smaller steps later, Cela literlly vaulted through the dirt, up and over 12s head. However, rather than only hitting the ground in a landing, she twisted in midair. A hard spin of her torso brought her hips following along with both feet angled towards the back of 12s knees. With only a second at most to move or dodge, if her hit landed, it would offer moderate injury to the right knee or upper thigh. As she landed on her back, she pushed into a back flip so she was back on her feet, however now standing a out two and a half feet behind him*
Broodcast
The pose remained after tossing the dirt, all brain processing activity focused more on her reaction as she attempted to close distance, let alone react to the tossed dirt. Protective but quick to react. It almost caught them off guard with how quick she had been to act. Even more surprised as they tracked her movements to go into the dirt. Senses seem to have little affect to a small amount of air-cluttering debris. The information was taken into consideration as they had to continue watching in order to decide whether attacking or distancing was called for.
That was when the woman’s body hovered above their own head. The spinning of her body seemed to be doing so in a manner for some radical maneuvering. They could not keep track at their position above them. 12’s crouching stance locked in, and it could only brace their lower flexed muscles as bent arms covered their head. Trying to track the woman’s movements caused its body to turn, and their leg to turn outward firstly compared to the rest of the body. Their right leg being the one that extended further than the rest of the body took the hit in the thigh. While the muscles were flexed to intensify a sense of durability and dexterity, the damage still stung. The damage still shook their core. Exhaling to allow it to run its course to the rest of their body, 12 stood up with a bit of a stagger but still stood tall. As a means of rotating to face her and target her, it kicks off of the injured right leg.
The left leg with foot dug in balanced 12 perfectly fine during the pivot rotation backward as their right body swung out. Right arm piercing the wind with its strength as it stiffened and flexed, bending only slightly at an obtuse angle, the hit if contact could be made, more so the backhand or wrist just before becoming the beginning of the forearm.
(Setting: Grasslands. Wildlife minimal, no mammals and mostly consisting of insects. Tall grass with clearings of leveled grass. Little to no trees, two at most within five miles. Air clear, sky blue. Clouds but not too many.)
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Broodcast
The wind blew at about five miles per hour, give or take. The clear air was refreshing as it traveled through their nasal cavities. The sun had been at its peak and light covered the green land like a blanket. So bright and clear. The heat was no where close to moderate, and bordered a sense of chill similar to that of a brisk night. Any silence that had been broken managed to only find restlessness with the wind making the blades of grass move in sequence as it traveled over the land. Its feet deepen their stance into the ground, feeling the dirt and rubble underneath their heels and between their toes.
12 was the first of it’s kind to be involve with any form of combat in humanoid form. It’s feet pointed and grotesque, fit for a predator in the wild as each of the three digits sported sharp black-clawed nails at the tips. It’s hands pail in comparison for while they shared the obsidian-colored nails, five digits similar to an ordinary human opened palm up before closing into a tight fist. Each knuckle cracks on both hands in perfect synchronization. White from their chrysalis-covered helm down to their primal footing, their otherworldly appearance had a visual similarity to the muscle tissue under most humans skin as multiple ripples were visible along the surface of their abnormal pectorals and abdominals.
12 rose it’s arms and spread it’s legs some. As if it wore them before gesturing, titanium-infused metal pauldrons, vambrace, and gauntlets appeared on both limbs. Chased with silver in a Victorian design, similar pieces of armor appeared around the shins.
Inhaling through hidden nostrils due to their organic helm, 12’s muscles visibly expand and grow slightly in size under the armor before reverting back to normal size. The definition and thickness of the skin shows a fortitude and durability in external comprehension in terms of foreign conditions (such as temperature) affected 12 minimally. Not even veins could be seen under muscle. (C)
With their anatomical construction alone through means of appearance, it’s clear while humanoid and standing at a decent six-foot-six that 12’s genetics surpassed a peak human. It holds it right hand in front of it with bent arm. Palm raised upwards, it lets out a sinister hiss similar to that of a hostile snake though deeper in bass. Magical reserve used, a test flame emerges in their palm and raising at about five inches in height before diminishing and being snuffed out with the closing of their hand. Seconds pass, five to be exact, before a blue aura flickers over their whole body. 12 looks forward with anticipation. ((E))
Cela
Blue clouds floated along the air, swimming, sinking, gliding along as the whispers traveled along them. The way the blue moves bringing to mind the way a woman would dance, slowly to entice the eye of someone. However, as a being moved through the clouds, steps silent as the clouds shifted and began to cling to the body of the being. A tilt of her head, the emotionless quirk of her lips as she heard a challenge given to her. She had no intention of denying, even agreeing on their terms. A small twist of her wrist brought the clouds to swirl before her, slamming together to condense into a thick vein in front of her, the portal forming as she steps through it and onto the land of the challenger. Emptiness, she thought with a lift of her brow, her eyes gazing around before the gilded silver landed on the other being.
Another small twist of her wrist and the portal behind her closed with a harsh scream ripping through the air, cutting off as quickly as it started. Moving to the edge of the clearing she stopped and lowered the cowl of the cloak that always shrouded her from view. The intense blue hue of her skin nearly glowed in the light, making the silver highlights in her dark blue braid glimmer as she moved her head. The cloak went to the ground, drifting from her fingers as she removed the twin short swords from her thighs. The belt knives following quickly as she removed the dirks hidden around her body. The throwing knives tied firmly on her upper left arm joined the other weapons, along with both boot knives. She was now weaponless, beyond what she could do with her hands along. A soft murmur even caused the blue mists to lighten, giving a vague blur of the lines of her body. The terms now met, as she stepped away from her weapons
As she took her place before the being, her appearance would now be visible. Scars, cruelly white across her skin, the fitted leather armor that she was attired in. Designed to fit her frame, to shift and move as she did without causing any friction. Half calf boots were tied tightly, and her feet remained firm even as she loosened her knees slightly. Standing at seven foot and two inches tall, Cela gave a towering impression, only enhanced by the wisps of blue that spun off from her. All around her, the soft whispers of the dead could be heard, a calling out, pleas to be saved. At her feet a slightly different coloring showed on the ground, darker and withering within of things trying to escape a perpetual hell. A roll of her shoulders showed the clearly defined muscles of the female. Riding high on her chest bone a oily, harsh black tattoo "LOVE IS PAIN" stained her skin, with a small knife shaped amulet that glinted against the black.
She merely nodded at the other, mentally taking herself though what she could see and guess of the being before her before indicating she was ready.
Broodcast
Not one strike but two. Quick practice punches into the air in front of its abdominals, aiming downward and within its own personal space. The speed and force enough to make visible sound. Subtle like the wind when it blows. Noticeable as anything that could pierce the very air would’ve been. The position it took following this had the traits of compact defense with room for far-reaching offense. A style that the creature had practically been programmed in, with a sense of mastery far surpassing that of an adept practitioner.
12 closes their hands into tight and straightened fists, and raises them so that the tops of the knuckles were just above the forehead. Their body’s organic-enforced skin and muscles audibly shift as their forearms point toward the female opponent, elbows adjusting outward slightly. The hips of 12 face forward before walking forth just a few steps as their feet visibly switch between digging into the ground and a light prancing shuffle. The footwork helped get them adjusted to the surroundings on a grounded level.
Their adjustments through feet, toes, and heel finish. In a sprinting dash they close the distance with more than a few steps in their rush. Their arms shift with their body, lowering out of the defensive stance but keeping their arms from fully straightening out. The right leg of 12 reels back after the left foot stomps down to add pressure and balance in their partial stance. The thigh muscle tightens on their right leg as it raises just slightly above their waist. With swiftness and speed that break the air similar to the punches prior, the leg comes down. Foot stiffened as it struck down to her own shin and calf, the intent had been to begin striking low and test the distancing. Keeping the movement linear and fast paced with little to no room for improvisation as the next move in their technique began calculating accordingly.
Cela
Cela remained silent as the intensity of her gaze heightened, the hollow sounds from their hand movements easily heard by Cela in the otherwise silent ground. She braced as they sprang forward, the speed and strength of it raising her respect even as she tensed her core and loosened her hips. Rolling onto the balls of her feet, she jumped into a backflip, avoiding the hit to her legs by mere inch. Their leg, however, hit her braid as she was flipping, causing it to wrap around her arm. The solid thud of her landing, coupled with the grunt from deep in her chest as she steadied herself. Right leg and arm stretched out to the side, her left hand steepled to prevent her from falling and her left leg bent tightly. She raised her head and the quick grin that flashed across her face was only seen for a second before she moved.
Matching her speed to that of the other, she crossed the three feet that seperated them in a second or less. Rather than going for a body hit, she instead rolled forward directly in front of them, her legs reaching out to attempt to twist and trip the being. Her action caused a large dust cloud to pump up from the ground, her larger than normal body size and weight giving an unintentional cover for her movements.
Broodcast
Dealing with an opponent with height advantage proved to be difficult. The arm span as well as leg’s reach stumped their own. Even by a few inches there could be no room for error. The very breeze that picked up from the woman’s legs during the backflip proved formidable. Closing distance could not be an issue for this female opponent. 12 having missed uses the striking leg to regain light footing as the top of the foot plants softly and toes rest but remain ready.
The movements their opponent displayed matched and rivaled that of 12’s own. A frustrating expression of grit teeth emerged on their visible mouth with a sound only describable as machine-like, deep based and formless like that of a fan spinning at high speeds. Just as they could carefully assume rather than precisely calculate without further study. The distance closer absurdly fast. Caution shot through the body. While remaining alert and ready, the best action for 12 has been taken as they bounced their front foot’s toes up to aid in backing up. The goal’s attempt to gain more distance proved fruitful as light footwork followed in linear sequence.
Not taking their sights off of her movements, unsure what the attempted attack could be, it finalized in playing things safe. Cautiously each long striding step of three backwards consisted of flat footing. Each step applied less then half of their weight. The jump back an additional foot and landing with their left leg put out in front. Their leg doesn’t press down with additional weight for balance sake, all weight shifted back to the right. Without further hesitation, another kick shoots out. The hip angles with the kick rather than it being straightened for a frontal kick. The left leg extended out had now raised to coincide the hip’s twist and rather than aiming low, it is raised for mid-section height. The direction of the kick swung inward with out the leg bending at the knee to ensure full distance.
Cela
As the dust quickly settled on her, giving her a very monotone look, she twisted her hips and propelled herself upwards until she stood on her feet again. A few stray strands of her hair floated around her face as she bent slightly at the waist, keeping her shoulders, elbows and wrists loosely before her, giving her a nearly humpback look. Tufts of dust rose from their feet with each move, and she rolled her neck.
Being more prepared this time, she allowed the kick to hit her stomach, taking the brunt of it on her hip as she twisted slightly on impact. With a defying quickness, her hands would attempt to grasp their foot and ankle in a tight hold, with the purpose of throwing herself backwards, therefore throwing them behind her with a very solid thump if she was able to fully grasp them.
Broodcast
The momentum had ceased. Contact had been made. Less than a few seconds could be taken to calculate this accordingly, from the fragment of strength applied to their opponent’s reaction. And then it happened. The grapple. The eagerness and hostility built in their stomach, witnessing an opponent take an attack to allow for better possibility to counter. Utter brilliance rooted in fighting instinct.
Although preparing for impact the thought of all the dirt and rubble flying about had been an annoyance. Had they been more dependent on breathing similar to a human they’d be coughing. Suddenly the thought hit them like the impact of being thrown into the ground once her ankle grab had tossed them behind her. Their heavy body didn’t fly far. Upon landing they brought their arms in and tucked the upper body to roll only slightly.
The distance between them did not progress further. The creature exhaled a hiss of disgust as it composed itself. Now in crouched position, not fully facing their opponent as she had been now on their left side due to the angling of their role, it applied a tactic through moderate observation. The application being the action of driving clawed fingers into the ground, burying their left hand into the dirt between them. With a flexing of their arm, 12 hurls an amount of dirt gathered between fingers and a cupped palm. The strength used to toss the dirt at her similar to their prior punches as seen by the swiftness of the arm movement. The hand tilts and empties just as it met eye level with 12, so the dirt traveled farther instead of higher. Even with the decent amount, should it not have made direct contact with her body, debris was still a factor judging by how her movements prior kicked a lot of it up.
Cela
Cela cursed softly as she twisted quickly to face the other being better, a slight favoring in the hip that had been hit. The cloud of dust that had risen on his impact was slowly settling back towards the ground as she kept a close watch on his movements. Knowing she had lacked the needed power of the throw, she did not expect it to have any major impact on the other. The slightest lift of the corner of her lip as she seen what the other being was looking to do. However, rather than turn from the dirt thrown, she ran into the cloud.
Tucking her head down, she calculated the few steps needed to reach the spot she needed. Four smaller steps later, Cela literlly vaulted through the dirt, up and over 12s head. However, rather than only hitting the ground in a landing, she twisted in midair. A hard spin of her torso brought her hips following along with both feet angled towards the back of 12s knees. With only a second at most to move or dodge, if her hit landed, it would offer moderate injury to the right knee or upper thigh. As she landed on her back, she pushed into a back flip so she was back on her feet, however now standing a out two and a half feet behind him*
Broodcast
The pose remained after tossing the dirt, all brain processing activity focused more on her reaction as she attempted to close distance, let alone react to the tossed dirt. Protective but quick to react. It almost caught them off guard with how quick she had been to act. Even more surprised as they tracked her movements to go into the dirt. Senses seem to have little affect to a small amount of air-cluttering debris. The information was taken into consideration as they had to continue watching in order to decide whether attacking or distancing was called for.
That was when the woman’s body hovered above their own head. The spinning of her body seemed to be doing so in a manner for some radical maneuvering. They could not keep track at their position above them. 12’s crouching stance locked in, and it could only brace their lower flexed muscles as bent arms covered their head. Trying to track the woman’s movements caused its body to turn, and their leg to turn outward firstly compared to the rest of the body. Their right leg being the one that extended further than the rest of the body took the hit in the thigh. While the muscles were flexed to intensify a sense of durability and dexterity, the damage still stung. The damage still shook their core. Exhaling to allow it to run its course to the rest of their body, 12 stood up with a bit of a stagger but still stood tall. As a means of rotating to face her and target her, it kicks off of the injured right leg.
The left leg with foot dug in balanced 12 perfectly fine during the pivot rotation backward as their right body swung out. Right arm piercing the wind with its strength as it stiffened and flexed, bending only slightly at an obtuse angle, the hit if contact could be made, more so the backhand or wrist just before becoming the beginning of the forearm.
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