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Warm Up
Feb 26, 2006 23:03:00 GMT -5
Post by Sakabatou on Feb 26, 2006 23:03:00 GMT -5
As soon as his attack was released, Blu noticed the new arrival behind him.
“Good to see you, Ouji. Glad you could come play.”
That would make things simpler. Blu had been sure the spiky-haired one would not stay out of things much longer. He hadn’t been overly worried, but this would at least make everything easier to keep track of.
Meanwhile, the flame wave couldn’t have had a more agreeable effect if it had incinerated his opponent. It didn’t hurt her, but that didn’t matter—it was a weakness. An identical tactic would not work again, of course—but there were many ways to play with fire.
Only a fool would pass up the kind of opportunity presented to Blu, for as the winged woman shied away from the flames, she left herself completely exposed. Rather than make an attempt at a killing blow—she would certainly be expecting that—he acted on a much more interesting idea. Running at her at full speed, he slid beside her. Without stopping, and while the fire was even just filtering into her ring, he grabbed the orb hanging from her belt with the hand that held his lashknife hilt. His other hand, holding the blade of his weapon, sliced at the chain that attached it to her. He couldn’t be sure if it would actually break off of the chain, but he certainly wanted to find out.
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Dota
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Warm Up
Feb 27, 2006 22:16:21 GMT -5
Post by Dota on Feb 27, 2006 22:16:21 GMT -5
She realized where her opponent had run to at the tug to her waist. It seemed he was after her orb. Now…the orb itself would never allow itself to be touched by anyone other than Dota. However, being as Blu had grabbed the chain with the orb, it would go along with him – he’d found a glitch without intention. Dota’s orb would always return to her side if she were to lose hold of it. As though obediently trained, the orb knew to come to rest in the familiar recesses of the belt, made especially for it. And, now out of Dota’s reach, it would remain an orb that would melt through all other hands until its master reclaimed it.
“Well, shit”
She turned in his direction as he slid to a halt, bringing her hands together in front of her. They were positioned as though holding onto something as she pulled them away from one another. Sure enough, a long staff came into view between her hands like some magic trick. At its full length, her hands stopped, securing it in their grasp. It was a rather plain staff, save the head end of it, which had an orb similar in coloration to the morph orb. Encircling it were two rings that left a feeling of those orbiting a planet off in space.
She spun the staff in front of her, planting the bottom of it in the ground. A wave of crimson washed over the green orb on top, as did one over her eyes. It was only for a moment and then the taint of blood faded back to the emerald hue. Her bangs, wings and dress whipped about in the sudden disruption of energy.
The ground around Blu erupted in a tower of ice, much more violently than the gentle greeting she’d given him. The initial layer of ice wasn’t all that impressive. It was just close…intimidating. It stood perpendicular to the ground, leaving it easy to shatter. Its heights climbed two…then three times Blu’s height. A second wave of ice had sprouted in time with the first, this left a minor gap between itself and the first, resulting in a slightly detectable angle that allowed it to widen its base in the earth, thus thickening and sturdying it. A third and fourth wave came out behind the first and second, each with more of an angle. The first wall of ice had begun to lace itself together at its peak, creating a thick, jagged ceiling that cast down refracted rays of sunlight within the icy prison. The air had, upon the rise of the walls, begun to plummet in temperature. The moisture in the air was freezing – that which found itself too close to the walls became a part of the ice, giving birth to spiky protrusions all along what was once a smooth surface. The outer walls could not join the ceiling above, but in a frozen stretch, reached with razor peaks as far as possible. In all, the initial wall was about 4 feet in diameter. The gap that followed doubled that. The second wall doubled that…and so on.
Even as her ice was finalizing its structure, Dota was lifting her staff, bringing it up in an elegant twirl. With a glimmer of the orb, a collection of ice, the length of the staff itself and far more lethal, shot out from behind the ice goddess. They would pierce through the walls with no resistance, stopping only once they reached within the walls of the initial ice column. There weren’t too many ice spears – only 3: one to her left, one to her right and one above. It was a game of chance, Blu did have some space to move in there afterall.
For the moment, she wasn’t focusing on the newcomer. He was familiar, yes – but it seemed that Cloud would have to have her back in this case. She was too intent on retrieving her keepsake. The sentimental value was her driving force - even beyond that of its usefulness.
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Warm Up
Feb 28, 2006 0:05:35 GMT -5
Post by Royal Luna on Feb 28, 2006 0:05:35 GMT -5
Gazing upon the Earthlings, she noticed that they were getting some sort of pleasure of watching this crude sense of entertainment. This was an odd concept to her. She never before witnessed such a curious sort. While intensely studying the crowd, an older man approached her.
"My dear, I seem to have noticed that are you are not partaking in the festivities," the prehistoric man muddled with a crackling voice. "Could it be your name is Paige?"
Cocking her head to an angle, she understood the man. However, she did not know his language. Being raised by the Lunistic people, she only knew how to communicate through her mind, which seemed to be a rare talent indeed among humans. The princess answered him with her lips tightly sealed, "No, I'm sorry to inform you that Paige be not my name." Strangely enough, the man was not startled at this.
"Oh, I see, my lady," he said, bowing his head. "A woman with such power as yourself could not be my mortal daughter."
As he hunched his back and turned around to return to his previous space, she read the man's thoughts as easily as one could facial expressions. She understood that this man had received a letter from this "Paige," and had been searching for her throughout the battles. A sad emotion swept over her heart. This man had lost everything, and his only glimmer of hope was a daughter seperated from him in infancy. As the old man, Ageon, settled where he stood before, closed her eyes and as if her spirit floated above, she saw an aerial view of the land. Piercing into the surrounding mortal's minds, she noticed that the question she had asked in her head, "Who be Paige, the daughter of Ageon," was answered. All the mortals who had a grayish light, faded, and a golden pillar appeared in her thoughts. Opening her eyes itensely, she grabbed Ageon by the hand and dragged him behind her, knocking down spectators in their wake. Like a flash of light, they reached the wall where the maiden stood. Ageon looked at the princess who was holding his hand and noticed her smile as he recognized the woman in front of them. As the man reached out for his daughter, the princess quickly sensed a violent collision. Instinctively, she was protected by a barrier. Through her barrier, she saw nothing more than a smoky aftermath. After the debris had settled, a being with a hellish aura caught her attention, rising from the screams, and rushing back into battle. Dropping her barrier, she looked down upon two clutching hands beneath a pile of stone. Holding her heart, she became engulfed with the sorrow of death, and the red hair that rested beneath the pale blonde, crawled up and smothered the golden portion of her locks. Stepping through the tumbled wall, her rage was earth-shattering, and as soon as she had passed through the demolished gate, a man came charging to her with his sword drawn and a battle cry.
"Like Hell, mortal," she said as she tightly snapped her eyes to meet his. The man fell to his knees in horrific screams that were warped and almost demonic. "See your evil," she said with her telepathic voice. The man collapsed.
From here, she fought her way steadily in the direction that the Hellish one had fled.
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Warm Up
Feb 28, 2006 1:42:31 GMT -5
Post by InfiniteStrife on Feb 28, 2006 1:42:31 GMT -5
If it was his intent to waste one of his few, precious days off on the lesser kind, he would have begun participating some time ago. In the circumstances 15 seconds ago, Cloud could have allowed himself to wait this fight out comfortably. Now, there was a fourth. It certainly was not that Cloud considered himself in immediate danger due to that man alone, but he knew all too well what would come to be if he let events play out as they were now: he would be attacked, and while this happened, on the off-chance that Dota may become unable to help in any way, the other would join in. Still, this being considered, he was not worried. While he was proud and brave, he was not stupid. To be without his favored weapon, he would be at a disadvantage. Disadvantages, as any warrior knew, were great to stack on your foe if you could make it so, and doubly worse if they fell upon you. In dealing with contenders such as these, not a single person present could afford too many of those. It was time that he prepared himself.
As the others were preoccupied in their own battle and foolish comments, the space at Cloud’s left side would began to blur in a mirage-like effect one might see in the barren desert. Following this, the grass below it quickly caught fire and turned to ash. The very earth itself there split apart into approximately a two-foot long crevice, from which black smoke and embers spewed forth. It was not altogether too different from the entrance of the one who joined right after Cloud. Only now, instead of souls of the damned, lava was purged from the bowels of the Earth, flowing over into the arena. From this fissure he would receive his sword. It rose perfectly upright, handle first, as though this had been intended since the dawn of time. The sword itself stopped at Cloud’s waist level, still partially in the ground.
Though the blade was on his right side, and Cloud dominant with his right hand, his left hand reached over to take hold of it. As his hand found itself wrapped around the handle, the glove that protected that hand was incinerated instantly where he made direct contact, and eventually the entire glove was burned away until nothing remained on his arm. It made a noticeable hissing sound as the blade literally seared his flesh where he held it.
While one could only speculate upon the qualities of Cloud’s blade, this is what one may have assumed: firstly, that it was not made of any sort of metal or precious material. It appeared to be a more solid version of what accompanied its entrance: lava. It was not segmented anywhere. Blade, hilt, and handle were one piece, ironically like a sculpture of a sword carved from ice. The whole of it was a deep, harsh red that was overshadowed by upper layer of a black burn. The texture could be described as volcanic rock, albeit an active volcano. Thus, secondly seen, the entire weapon itself was absurdly hot. Even now, in the midst of the dramatic drop in temperature due to the sub-zero will of his wife, it radiated a heat such that a dark smoke continually poured off of it, especially from the markings that were seemingly scorched onto the blade. Even though he still stood outside the perimeter of Dota’s ice field, the other contenders would most certainly be able to feel the heat from where they stood — especially Dota. If she had not taken notice of the lava before, the heat from the blade alone would suffice to beg her attention. If one was particularly attentive, they would have seen that the icy structure encasing Dota’s foe was beginning to slowly form beads of water on all of its walls. However, Cloud himself was not immune to this effect. Third, Cloud had this time chosen a weapon that was not unequivocally sharp — in fact, its edges were blunt. They were more or less an inch and a half, and flat. Assuredly, he did not require razor-sharp edges for it to be lethal. Lastly, and quite possibly the most important aspect of all, was the symbol scorched onto the face of the blade just next to the handle: a meteor.
With his left hand clutching the sword, he swung it with all his might back to his left side. As the blade ripped through the air, an intense green glow, similar to that of his eyes, trailed off the end of it. His swing had generated some sort of wave energy, releasing a wicked noise close to that of a thunderclap, and shot out in the exact angle and direction. It was in the same sense that a bullet fires from a gun, only it was just slightly slower, giving minimal time to react, and had a much larger chance of hitting its target, as it was about eight feet wide — the full range of his swing. Dota had seen this technique plenty of times, but even she would realize that this one had a burning trail behind the first wave, as if the heat from his blade had latched onto the energy that erupted forth. Though he had full choice of three targets, he meant to only hit two. Since he could not determine exactly where the first man stood in the ice cage, he had to take the best possible angle to get the best chance of hitting both him, and the newcomer, which was at a slight incline, higher on Cloud’s right side.
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Warm Up
Feb 28, 2006 20:56:15 GMT -5
Post by Trunks on Feb 28, 2006 20:56:15 GMT -5
The second that the spiky haired man grabbed the handle of the sword Ouji knew there was going to be trouble. As if it were instinct driving him he jumped into the air, leaving the image of his former position. Immediately he whistled and the sound echoed off the walls of the mountain. Quickly he continued his ascent. In the distance the beating of what sounded like a bass drum could be heard and then a piercing screech of a bird. With both hands in front of him he tossed the katana in the direction of the flying spears of ice. He knew that he would only be able to hit one, two if he was lucky, but he needed to help. At the peak of his jump his phoenix flew beneath his feet. With no hesitation Ouji began running down the back of his large bird. Nothing around him moved as he ran the same speed but opposite direction of his phoenix. With only feet left the young warrior crouched and then rolled off the back of the legendary animal. This little trip wasn’t without reason. Between each finger on both hands was a feather. With a quick and fierce flip of his wrist these dagger like feathers were sailing straight at the man in black and the woman he remembered as Dota. Finally, Ouji landed in a crouched position but contiued to slide from the momentum. Both hands scraped the ground as he turned himself to face the action and see what happened next.
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Warm Up
Mar 2, 2006 22:49:52 GMT -5
Post by Sakabatou on Mar 2, 2006 22:49:52 GMT -5
A cage... why was it always a cage? Albeit, this one was rather different from all the other implements that had confined him, but it was a cage nonetheless. If one more person tried to lock him in somewhere, Blu was going to start thinking that people didn’t like him. Come to think of it, it usually seemed to be the women that wanted him locked away...
Of course, if there was anything in the world Blu was prepared for, it was cages. Well, actually, it was being slapped by the targets of his affection. But after that was definitely cages. Rolling up his right sleeve, Blu was greeted by the rough brown of the self-given scar on his shoulder. The imprint was shaped, of course, as a kanji. Specifically, it was the symbol representing the word “fade.” In contrast to his normally quick-scrawled kanji, written in the cursive-like Sosho script, this was carved in the properly ornate Kaisho print—a significant amount of time had gone into this, and Blu was exceptionally proud of it. The collagen scar tissue of the kanji served more purpose than simply to prevent the symbol’s healing, as well. It also held traces of several catalysts—pegasus, ogre, dragon, chocobo, zoran, angelic, and more; several rare bloods had been injected into the symbol directly after it had been carved, and several more as Blu had acquired them. To say the least, it was the most expensive injury Blu had ever taken. But to be sure, the most useful as well.
By the time the cage had completely grown around him, Blu had already run a finger through some of his fresh blood—he certainly had enough wounds to provide it by now—and allowed that to flow through the scar. Placing his hand over the scar (a pointless motion, but one he performed out of habit), Blu spoke the word “fade,” and his body obeyed. The process was not instantaneous—it took just over two seconds overall. His body turned from opaque, to transparent, to completely invisible. And so, Blu once again entered the immaterial realm.
Immediately, his vision changed. The details of the world around him became murky, as if viewed underwater with very low light. He now existed between the two planes of their current dimension: the plane of matter and the plane of energy. He was within neither, and so could be affected by neither. The only downside being that, an organism composed of matter himself, exposure to the immaterial realm tended to be rather unhealthy for Blu, to the point of being quite fatal in prolonged or repeated doses.
There was one big upside to solid cages like this one—Blu could use his “fade” kanji without revealing it to his opponents, who could see nothing through the walls. Having entered the immaterial realm, and prepared to simply walk through the icy barrier, Blu was met with a complication. Unlike the dark murkiness of everything else, the walls surrounding him shone like sunlight. This was interesting—Blu had assumed the ice that his opponent continually assailed him with was simply condensed air moisture. This meant that it was trans-planar; some hybrid of physical matter and pure elemental energy. This girl was no mere ice mage.
Shrugging, Blu walked through the wall anyways. He really had no idea what would happen, but at this point the girl had conjured her ice spears, so he would be finding out one way or the other. As he entered the wall, he felt something of a slight tugging all over his body, but was otherwise unhindered, so moved to pass through completely. Turning back after he exited the wall, Blu was mildly distressed to see himself on the other side. And to see the self that was looking at the other self from the other side. He was seeing—existing, really—from both (semi-transparent, he noted) bodies at once. Had his matter form and energy form been separated by the ice?
At this point, several things happened at once. The winged girl launched her spears, Ouji threw his katana, and the spiky-haired man’s sword shot out some kind of energy attack. As the saiyajin’s sword destroyed two of the ice spears—the ones from above and behind the Blu within the cage—and then stabbed upright into the earth, the energy projectile from the sword tore through that Blu. The kanji mage experienced an extremely disorienting wave of nausea as his energy form (it had to be, otherwise the energy attack would have been harmless), destabilized by the beam, re-coalesced with his matter form outside the cage, dropping him violently (mentally, anyhow) and immediately back into the normal material plane.
Pure luck was the one thing that saved Blu. The nausea of being pulled so unexpectedly back into the normal realm floored him, and the third ice spear passed over him with all but a foot of clearance. Hurrying to stand up, Blu slapped himself in the face in an attempt to clear his head, all too aware of the disadvantage his position put him at.
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Dota
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Warm Up
Mar 3, 2006 19:30:33 GMT -5
Post by Dota on Mar 3, 2006 19:30:33 GMT -5
With the overall chaos, Dota didn’t really get the chance to observe the reappearance of Blu. It looked to her as though he’d managed to survive the blast of the blade beam which had succeeded in continuing on to shatter her entire ice prison. Not only that, but her ice projectiles had been interrupted. The katana that stabbed into the ground between her and what remained of the ice prison was noted – a quick survey of her surroundings (without actually averting her gaze) had identified Ouji. Still, Dota pursued her original prey, for she knew it was unwise to bounce between battles. She would tire quicker while her opponents bought recovery time for one another.
She brought her hands together, sending the rod back into the oblivion from where it had come. At her initial leap towards the dazed man, Dota found Ouji was, in fact, planning on causing more trouble. Several feathers that had assumed deadly rigidness now picked up where the katana had left off. Rather than expending her energy and concentration on avoiding the daggers, Dota allowed the closest to pierce her left shoulder. She hadn’t been sure what to fully expect, though she figured Ouji was not completely helpless. The fiery and holy properties of the beast allowed the quills to not only penetrate the ice goddess’ flesh, but to cause an injury as though she had been a mere mortal. From the top of her left shoulder trickled a flow of blood. For the duration it was on her skin, the blood remained liquid. The drops that managed to free themselves would ultimately freeze upon the blades of grass below. This was not true for larger quantities, but no one had drawn that much from her just yet.
Even as the feathers dug into her, Dota had thrown her right hand out in an arc, from the ground to beyond her side…in the direction from where the sword lay over to where Ouji had skidded to a halt. The sword showed no resistance – it ripped backwards, freeing itself from the ground in a spray of dirt. With a midair spin, it flew at Ouji blade-first.
“Irritating” she growled as she continued on.
Though the setback was brief, it still padded Blu for her advance. Having sent Ouji a sword to deal with, Dota cleared the gap between her and her target in a single bound as she’d originally intended. She was wary of this lash knife scenario. Never before had she had the pleasure of combating with or against such a weapon. She was down her own preferred weapon and hoped that the lack of distance would restrict the usefulness of the chain, though the knife was still a bother.
Dropping low in her landing, Dota offered a fist to the gut of her already-nauseated opponent. Maybe it was best if she didn’t succeed in this strike, taking into consideration Blu’s current condition. Probably no one cared to see what he’d begun digesting recently.
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Post by InfiniteStrife on Mar 6, 2006 0:08:21 GMT -5
He always half expected his blade beams to be evaded in some manner — but a direct hit was not always his motive. Although he hoped for it to shatter the ice prison and the prisoner therein, he had not depended entirely on it.
The smug one wielding the katana dodged first, and quickly. This disappointed Cloud, but if any fight ended in the first attack, it probably wasn't worth drawing his blade. He merely watched as the first one took evasive action and called forth, of all things, a Phoenix. Two could play at this game, but he'd give the man a fighting chance for now. He was ready for a firestorm, but all he got was feathers. Feathers, simply, never did very much, but coming from a creature such as the Phoenix, Cloud did not want to test the waters that badly. With the sword still to his left from the swing prior, he crouched and let it cover him — it was just wide enough to save him from any impending explosion as it may have been. Explosion it was not, however, and when Cloud saw the feathers merely pierce Dota, he heard a fast collection of tings — the feathers clashing with the broader side of his blade — he knew he was safe enough. He stood quickly to retaliate.
Here he saw the other one exit his cage. It frustrated him to no end that it was not through the means of blood and/or broken bones. This one had phased through it. If there was one particular skill set that he hated above all else, it was the teleportation kind. Regardless, he seemed exceedingly disoriented, and thus, Dota was in the clear to take her shot. This being so, Cloud could focus on the other.
With his own sword being flung back at him, he would have enough to deal with. This gave Cloud hisadvantage. He swept the sword back up over the opposite shoulder, and in doing so, had dragged it along the ground, superheating into another pool of lava which was flung straight at his opponent. He leapt from his position, sword poised to make its mark in his victim's clavicle.
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Post by Trunks on Mar 6, 2006 7:11:31 GMT -5
Somehow he knew that the feathers would hurt Dota. Something in the back of his mind told him that the healing properties of the Phoenix would harm her. Maybe his phoenix would have to come into play later. Now though he had to deal with other things. Although he liked his katana, catching it with the blade through his stomach didn’t really sound like a good plan. On top of that, having lave thrown into his face didn’t sound good either. Ouji slowly lifted himself onto on hand throwing his feet into the air. As the katana got closer He pushed off with his hand and arching his back. The blade just barely cleared the saiyan, coming so close that his black shirt that he was wearing now had a new fairly large vent cut across the back. When he came back down from his jump he lifted his hand in front of him. Soon after, the lava stopped right in front of him as if there was an invisible wall. Where the lava hit his shield the energy cracked like little bolts of lightning. Although he raised his shield several drops still landed on the sleeve of his shirt immediately burning its way through. Dropping his shield he brought up his hand to wipe away the ash that was there.
“You two are going to have to buy me some new clothes.”
Suddenly, something caught his attention up above. The spiky haired individual decided that he would try a more direct attack on the saiyan samurai. Thrusting with his feet Ouji dove back landing on his feet several feet away near a wall of flames.
“First of all, hasn’t anyone ever told you not to attack from the front? And second, who do you think you are with the blonde spiky hair, a super saiyan? Here let me show you how it’s done.”
The saiyan’s aura began to glow gold.
Meanwhile, Ouji’s phoenix circled around. Its intentions seemed to be to sweep around and pick him up again but a rogue katana stopped that from happening. As the bird came down the blade flew past Ouji and past the leg of the phoenix finally landing in the trunk of a tree. Blood slowly dripped from the edge onto the base of the tree and ground where grass quickly sprouted. In pain the phoenix screeched. Now instead of flying for Ouji it again took off into the air. Its blood fell into the battlefield. Many of the fallen mortals would again see the light of day due to the injury caused to this bird. The black eyes of the legendary bird were soon engulfed in a sea of red. The other legends that it was a bird of fire became obviously true as its entire body burst into flames. Pointing its head down it again headed for Ouji but this time not to pick him up. As it approached the ground the heat from its body caused the earth to catch on fire in a wall of ten foot flames. It quickly flew around the four opponents creating their own personal ring of fire. They still had plenty of room to jump, throw and pummel but now they weren’t going to be bothered. The flames on the bird died down as it flew off into the sun. The words of Ouji echoed inside the mind of the Phoenix “Thank you”
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Warm Up
Mar 6, 2006 13:44:28 GMT -5
Post by Sakabatou on Mar 6, 2006 13:44:28 GMT -5
Though the distractions were momentary, the Phoenix’s feathers and Ouji’s katana served to give Blu the time he needed to defend himself against the winged one’s advance. Planting his lashknife hilt vertically into the earth just as she reached him, her fist impacted against solid steel instead of his rather less-solid gut.
At this point, he had seen Ouji’s katana wound the Phoenix, which was soon to fly overhead. It was obvious that the bird had done this purposefully—such a gift from Ouji could surely not be wasted. As his opponent’s fist connected uselessly with his weapon, Blu spun himself around, planting a foot firmly on her back, and forcing her into the ground. As he did this, he pulled an empty vial from his robe, expertly catching a large dollop of the falling Phoenix blood within the vial. As the vials were designed to allow liquids in, but prevent them from spilling out (accordingly, the only way to access the blood inside was to smash the vial), Blu simply tossed it back into his inner-robe pocket, unworried about its contents. He would have to remember to thank Ouji.
This maneuver requiring only one hand, the kanji mage split his attention between catching the blood and dealing his retribution to the purple-haired girl. His free hand (the morph orb and lashknife were on the ground where he had dropped them, unneeded for the moment but not forgotten) grabbed the top of her wing, where the bone would run under the down. Holding it tightly, he kicked the joint where the wing bent, with force intended to break the two bones that connected there.
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