Van>Valvalis:
Vandalesca Musto Fende.
Master strategist, incredible plotter and one of the strongest warriors alive...
...?
---
Valvalis laughed maniacally.
Surely this fool could never strike her whilst she spun!
No one could! He was doomed!
Doo-
----
Van's Celestial Elegy caught Valvalis dead on, perfectly flattening her in one simple blow.
Van stared blankly for a moment, wobbling a bit.
And then, Van fell over.
---
"And that's why you don't stare too closely at a spinning object." Jade shrugged, chuckling.
"...Did he say 'Just as planned.' before falling over?" Luke muttered to himself. "I mean...that...never mind, I'm not thinking about this."
Sometimes an inaccurate attack can get lucky.
Or sometimes you can make your own luck, if you know these things.
Which of these is true with Van?
Who the hell knows.
Kornell>Maria:
Kornell Buster is such a magnificent move.
But where's the <i>love</>?
The strategy, the carefully planned thought that makes a match a real struggle of minds, as well as of body?
---
"...Uh...I don't think you can do that." Maria noted, looking down at her smashed gun.
"I just did." Kornell laughed slightly.
"But it's not legal."
"Legal? What do you mean, legal!? What does law have to do with a battle!?" Kornell was completely baffled.
"I'd argue, but really, the counter argument's not going to be any fun." Maria sighed, as she walked out of the arena.
And so, Kornell won through the strategy of showing people he can break things. Really well.
But in the end, it cost him something.
Namely, thousands of Fol replacing Maria's gun.
What, you thought <i>she</i> was going to pay for that?
Percival>Dias:
The clashing of raw, blistering power.
The beauty of it.
The dramatic flourish of it.
The frightening majesty of it.
---
"...You know, the scary thing is, I'm pretty used to this sort of thing by now." Percival noted, looking down at his long, flowery dress.
Ultimately, Percival's casual attitude, not to mention really trim waistline, was more than enough for him to win this contest.
However, Dias' beautiful hair and great legs have <i>doubled</i> his fangirl quotient. Perhaps he should wear a chinese dress more often?
Nina>Koromaru
And so, the pure power of ressucitating the undead has defeated Koromaru.
Wait, how does that work again?
Well, let's get this straight.
First, Koromaru is a dog posessed of a hellhound. Nay, the mightiest of them.
Hellhounds are demons.
Demons have a great power over the undead.
But how can you have a great power over the undead unless you truly <i>understand</i> them?
Certainly, the keeper of the gates of hell could be said to be, not only a demon, but undead himself.
But then, there are few that can truly be called a demon and undead, are there not?
True enough.
Therefore, Koromaru must be either a vampire or a lich. (Why those? Well, who else could you really see, out of the undead, someone calling a demon? A ghoul? Pff. Zombies? Hah. Skeletons? No.)
Since Koromaru is not, in fact, Godlike, however, those options are out.
Therefore, Koromaru is some form of drat powergaming half-vampire or something ridiculous.
Darned min-maxing mutt.
Colm>Eliwood:
No matter how Eliwood worked it out in his head, he was at a disadvantage.
Colm was faster.
Colm was faster.
Colm....was faster.
There was no way around this advantage.
At least, not without thinking outside of the box.
---
Eliwood's charge would be a thing of legend.
Screaming at the top of his lungs, he leveled Durandal in an unbelievable arc, taking up a massive swath of the arena as he charged towards a stunned Colm.
There are ways of brute, brutal force that can overcome even the fastest speed.
Unfortunately, this wasn't one of them. As Eliwood charged, Colm calmly moved to one side and ducked slightly.
Admitably, this would not have been enough alone, to win a match, but Eliwood forgot something.
He didn't really have brute, brutal force that can overcome even the fastest speed.
As he learned when he attempted to wrestle his horse to a stop without dropping Durandal.
The net result ended with him face-first in an arena wall, one of his arms crushed by Durandal's weight.
The moral of this story is simple.
Eliwood had a strategist <i>for a reason</i>.
Slash>Thomas:
A young lord against a demonic swordsman.
Truly a battle of legendary elegance.
Thomas, dodging, blocking, taking blows on the chin and giving back as good as he got.
Slash, a master of grace, durability and speed, if not power.
Thomas, striking down his opponent with the very last of his strength.
Slash pulling out a sword and stabbing Thomas in the face.
...
Oh, right, two forms. That sucks, doesn't it, Thomas?
Hugo>Lang:
Isthatallyagot!?
<i>Isthatallyagot!?</i>
<i>ISTHATALLYAGOT!?</i>
---
"STOP SAYING THAT STOP SAYING THAT STOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHLKCH!" Hugo shrieked, as he stabbed Lang's corpse repeatedly.
As he'd been doing for the last fifteen minutes.
Sometimes, having bad VA really sucks.
Camus>>>Miki:
The brilliant blaze.
The beautiful dance.
The cheering crowd.
Oh, sure, Camus didn't <i>have</i> to serve as Miki's pyrotechnics in exchange for her throwing the match.
But hey, it was the nice thing to do. Chivalry is important.
Also, he got to set Nikki on fire. That's important too.
