Courtyard || Surprises are "Fun"! || OPEN

ooc;; GODDAMNIT!I'MBORED!REPLYORSORANISGONNAKICKYOUINTHEFACE!>D
I'm not sure what a front of a school is called, so...I went with courtyard. xD;;

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This was a a surprise, though Soran had expected it was going to happen one of these days. It was that it happened much sooner than expected; nonetheless, Soran was prepared for what was going to unfold before.

From what the Meister could see from where he was standing, a duo of male students, with their testosterone levels flying through the roof, just had to show off their so-called skills to a small group for girls who were standing just a few feet away from the scene of the situation. The attackers, apparently were self-appointed "Meister-&-Weapon" partners, were harassing a obviously weaker group of people there were innocently passing by.

Soran had situated himself rather comfortably behind a column with a book in hand and his bad beside him. He was getting rather annoyed at what was going on; it was mostly that but also that no one was basically doing anything to stop it. With a quick slam of his book and hastily sliding it into his book bag, Soran walked into the fray as he instinctively adjusted his glasses, producing a glare onto his light violet eyes, and stood between the fight.

"You really should pick a fight with someone as your caliber," Soran spoke with a slight sneer in his voice and caught a flying fist to his face from one of the attackers, "Someone like me, for insta-" The Norwegian was unable to finish his sentence as he winced in pain, holding his hand to his left cheek, and stepped back a little to see what had caught him off guard. He hadn't noticed that the Weapon had transformed into what Soran considered a "butter knife" but was able to inflict enough of a mark that Soran had felt pain. He flinched slightly when his removed his hand and revealed a still free-flowing wound, trailing a scarlet trail on his face.

The injured Norwegian hadn't registered what his attackers had said, or rather spewed curses at Soran, as the Meister was very much in the mood to kick someones in the face, or just finish the fight that the others had started. First, it was a swift kick to the stomach of the other Meister, sending him flying off and landing on the ground with a soft thud. His Knife partner, whom the other Meister had dropped in surprise to Soran's attack, had un-transformed and was looking at Soran with rather cowardly eyes.

Soran's eyes, on the other hand, had seemed to turned a darker shade of purple and was filled with a dark void but still somewhat sane. He had become almost unaware of his surroundings, oblivious to the crowd of people that had gathered and those that were in it, as Soran smirked cynically as his now-victim. "Now, you really shouldn't pick on people weaker than for now on. Got it?" He jested slightly with his last words, just as he prepared to bludgeon the Weapon with a nasty kick.

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ooc;; OMG! Personality change much, Will-chan? XD /shot/ I'mtalkingtomyself...I'mgoingcrazy...OTL
I'm also too lazy to change it now, so I'll stick with it for now. =3=)V

"Hey! Quit it!" A call rang through the small clearing and reached about every ear nearby. The voice was loud and bold. The man himself was that and more. A flash of honey-tinted hair was all to be seen as the boy sped up to the two fighting.

The young, yet powerful weapon had a firm glare set upon his face. The way he was looking at the group, he seemed to be more concerned about the weapon. "Back off man, he can't hurt you." He snapped, walking up to Soran. "You're gonna preach about not picking on the weak but you're gonna beat up someone helpless? Not cool." Alfred stood between the two fighters, a blade appearing off his shoulder in defense for what his action of getting between the two could result in.

He could see something in the others eyes that bothered him and made hie weapon blood boil. It was something about the sickening smile on his face. "And if you wanna pick on the weak, then you gotta go through the hero! I've won ten matches in the past four days, if you don't back down, I'll make you eleven." A sneer passed the young adult's face as he locked eyes with the boy he was protecting the other weapon from.

((OOC: FFFF I'm bored too. Sorry for the fail!post D: And I like insane random stuff. Fun fun fun! >D ))

Forced to step back, Soran narrowed his darkened eyes at his new opponent. From what Soran could see, another annoyance and arrogant individual, noting that his new person was also a Weapon, had stepped himself into the small conflict. It was no different from what the Meister was facing just earlier, but Soran's new opponent was clearly on another level, which both excited him yet made him feel a bit uneasy. Of course, Soran new that he was to win this battle that the other had started, so where was his feeling coming from?

"Allow me to correct you," Soran matter-of-factly stated in a rather flat sounding voice as he wiped away the blood that had somewhat stopped flowing from his face. "I, technically, did not "preach" as they interrupted me what I hadn't even finished talking, as well as give me this nasty mark," Pointing with his left hand as the scar he was going to get from this, Soran returned the stare with a stronger glare of...Well, his eyes were slowly turning to a much darker look than earlier, so it was harder to tell what he was felling at the moment.

Soran lifted his glasses again, obstructing his darkened eyes with glare, as he slowly slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and slowly turned his back to the Weapon. "Statistics mean nothing now. After all you may have to restart that count of yours," Soran played around with a loose rock on the ground as he spoke. A rather evil looking smirk appeared at the corner of Soran's mouth as he lifted the tiny rock and balanced it at the top of his foot. "Are you willing to lose?"

With that said, Soran kicked the small rock at the other, aiming for his face. Using that as a distraction, Soran made an even bigger distraction and as a cover, he slammed the ground as hard as he could and created a big cloud of dust and debris around the combatants. The Meister used that to travel around the other, ending up behind him and beside the other Weapon that was on the ground, the one that Soran was brawling with originally.

The other had surprisingly was still there and looked at Soran with fearful eyes, but Soran paid no heed at he picked him up with relative ease and threw him into the crowd of people. "This isn't your fight anymore..." The Norwegian murmured to himself before turning around and facing the boy with blades from his shoulders.

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ooc;; LOL! Btw, you can easily tell how bored I am, just from how large I made my post. XD;;
Get ready to get owned! >D I ain't giving this one away!

Alfred stayed still, listening to him with a thin frown appearing on his face. The boy was itching to fight. He may not be able to see souls, but to some extent, he could just feel them, and this boy's soul was something different than the others he had faced. The adrenalin pumping through his veins made his hands tremble. Icy eyes watched the boy, not wanting this kid out of his sight.

He watched the rock atop the boy's foot, his sight shifting every now and again. His eyes widened at the rock being thrown, putting up his arm and catching the rock, surprised as the dust that surrounded the three. 'I can't see... Okay, focus, focus....' Alfred growled and heard the voice behind him and the sound of the other weapon being thrown.

He turned, pivoting on his foot and throwing the rock at the boy and raising his foot as he did so, kicking the opponent's side with all the force of his turning. Alfred took a strong stance on the ground, his arms turning into silver-blue blades. “I'd love to fight, but I'm not getting into trouble without a supervisor again. I'll get all my souls taken away!” He felt anger boil in the pit of his stomach that he may be turning down a fight. “But...” He paused and grit his teeth. “You hurt someone who couldn't hurt you, and as the hero of Shibusen, I defeat all evil, so let's go!” Or, he would fight, not wanting to let go of his title just because of the threat of his souls being taken.

Soran was able to dodge the rock that the other had thrown back at him, but he only had time to bring up his arms up as a shield. He had underestimated the force of the impact and was struggling to prevent himself from being blow over. In the end, as the other stood in front of Soran with his arms in the form of blades, Soran was panting just slightly as he stood up and took up his own stance.

Once again, shifting his glasses, Soran continued to smirk with his hands back into his pockets. "You call that a kick?" As he spoke, he tapped the front of his right shoe on the ground, giving his a rather relaxed stature than before. "I should teach you how to really kick something,"

Soran darted in a zig-zag fashion toward his opponent, just stopping shortly before him. Using his left foot and leg as a pivot, the Meister rotated with his right leg out and crashed it into the side of Alfred. Right on impact, Soran released a large amount of soul wavelength and attempted to kick the other away from him. "Be a good hero and run away, with your tail between your legs," Soran whispered softly yet with a harsh tone as he narrowed his eyes at Alfred. "This is one fight you will not be winning,"

Alfred smirked. “I call it a warm-up!” He couldn't keep his eyes on the boy as he charged forward, cursing himself for not being fast enough to shield himself and feeling the kick in his side, then came the shock. At the impact of the soul-wave, the weapon flew back and skidded a bit on the ground before diving his blade-arm into the ground and forcing himself to his feet.

“You can do those wavelengths too?” Alfred lifted his head, spitting at the ground. “This makes things more fun! Heroes like me don't run! We fight and win!” Though the boy had no plan, he ran forward anyway, not at all trying to confuse his enemy, figuring out something quickly. He lunged forward but did not strike. Blades sprung from his legs, and he sprung over Soran with his extra momentum. In the air, he leaned down and slashed his blades down on his enemy.

ooc;; Okay, I'm pretty sure I interpreted this part wrong, so if I am, I apologize...

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Honestly speaking, Soran wasn't sure what Alfred was going to do until it was too late. The Meister was barely able to duck from the slicing blades; the other was able to produce scarlet lines on Soran's shoulders, which made him clench his teeth in pain but also bubbling with almost pure hatred.

After tenderly holding his injured shoulders for a small moment, Soran retaliated by holding himself into the air with a handstand while aiming both of this feet at the stomach at the Weapon, who was still in the air and not yet touched the ground. "You owe me a new shirt, drittsekk!" Soran literally growled at Alfred before kicking with full force with both his feet; the wavelength he used created a small ripple within the ground, only those close enough to it were able to feel it.

Soran fell onto his back first before miserably picking himself onto his feet. The weight that he had placed onto his arms and shoulders had finally paid its toll, and both his arms were in much pain. He used whatever strength left to take off his glasses, finally, and threw them aside. The blood had started to stain one of Soran's favorite shirt, which became fuel that fed his annoyance and strong dislike towards Alfred as Soran stood in a rather clumsy looking stance, some distance away from his opponent.

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ooc;; Huuur...Norwegian curse word...I do love the internet. /shot/

Alfred felt a grin pass his face initially at the feeling of his blades piercing his opponent. He felt nothing initially, a full couple seconds before he felt the impact of Soran slamming his legs into his stomach. At that point the shockwave had already began and he found himself lying back into the air.

The shock startled his soul wavelength and his blade on his left arm dissipated as he coughed up small droplets of blood and hit the ground a bit away from Soran with a loud 'thud'. The dust his fall created cleared and he lay on his side in an awkward position, shaking slightly as he forced himself to get back up.

Another cough and he doubled over slightly, wiping his mouth with his opposite arm, spitting a bit. He felt his back crack and wavered, straightening a bit. "Nice trick." He rasped, his soul wave returning to normal and his arm returned to a scythe. "Let's see if you have more?" The young weapon raced forward and started slashing.

"You really should shut that big mouth of yours," A very annoyed expression grew on Soran's face as watched Alfred run closer to him, and it took Soran all he could to dodge it, taking back steps to avoid the blades. There were a few times that the injured Meister was unable to dodge and had received painful scratches and nicks; both the evasive moves and injuries that Soran was receiving was slowly and steadily making his movements slower as his endurance was dropping quite fast.

Soran was out of breath when he realized that he had placed himself up against a column, accidentally trapping himself. Or so he thought at first, until Soran had decided to do something risky, and it was very much something that he normally wouldn't do. He gave out a exasperated sigh and waited for the split second for Alfred to have dug his blades back into Soran's shoulders.

Within that split second, even with his now ruined shoulders screaming in pain, Soran mustered whatever strength he had left inside his body and lifted Alfred into the air. "Ta denne, drittsekk!" Soran yelled as he brought up his right leg and gave the Weapon a last kick upwards and back, driving the other straight into the column.

Soran wasn't sure if he would've been able to drive the other right through the column; it was possible with the soccer ball he had used back at home, but...Surely it would work on a human? Soran wasn't in mood to figure that out as he slumped onto the ground, quite tired but also happy in a way, as he gave off a smirk, though it slowly crept into a small smile.

Alfred had continued his slashing and trying to keep his strength up. It was obvious Soran was slowing down, and if looked at closely enough, he was too. But he learned how to keep going and not give the opponent an inch during his training sessions. He had him backed into the pole and ran for his chance, feeling his blades sink into skin again.

Then came the surprise, being lifted and slammed into the column, breath being taken completely from his body as it cracked under the impact. Alfred hit the ground first, and the cement column came down after him, arching just barely enough to miss him. His blades were gone when the dust cleared, face down against the cold ground.

The young weapon felt his consciousness return shortly after the dust cleared and he attempted to get up again, falling, then trying again with the same result. He couldn't move, he was too exhausted and stared at Soran who was hardly at all far away, but far enough for Alfred to be at a disadvantage. He grit his teeth and his soul flared, blades busting from his sides and back. These blades were long and went straight for Soran in a last-ditch effort on the American's part.

"I'm not giving up dammit!"

Soran was doing a bit of stumbling around as he struggled to lift himself off the ground, but all were in vain as he just fell back onto the ground and was much too exhausted to continue his attempts. He tried to move his busted shoulders, only to feel the sharp sting and burning pain of torn muscle and broken bones. Perhaps this was taking sparring much too far for what it started out being, but it wasn't like Soran didn't enjoy it.

Okay, so the Weapon very much reminded him of another particular Weapon, wielding an undying pride for what he was, and both of them are terribly annoying. Soran chuckled softly at the fact that he most likely has both of them in his classes, and the two of them would probably squabble about something unnecessary and childish; the Meister would just avoid and deny any relation to the two. So in a sense, Soran had fun with his little brawl that he did, though he probably couldn't say the same for Alfred.

When Soran looked over to Alfred, he had regained consciousness and still had unwavering determination at defeating Soran as Alfred's blades reached closer towards the Norwegian. With a miraculous storage of energy that even Soran didn't thought he had, the Meister used the broken column behind him and used that as a support to bring himself up to his feet. He simply took a few steps back, though he had received a few nicks on the legs a couple times. When he finally had gotten to a distance that Soran deemed safe away from the Weapon, he collapsed onto the ground for a final time. Soran made no more attempts to get back up, and if the other was determined to go at him again, the Norwegian was in hurry to leave.

"You remind me of someone who does and would do stupid things..." Soran sighed as he laid himself onto the ground comfortably, "Don't do anythings stupid that'll prevent you from walking or even living again,"

Alfred blinked at him and his blades disappeared. He felt his arms give out from beneath him and his face hit the cold ground. It was probably the best fall he'd had all day. He may feel completely drained and numb, but at least he had the satisfaction of knowing Soran was down for the count as well.

"You're good..." The weapon muttered around the ground, tilting his head up to rest on his chin, making it easier to speak. "And doing stupid stuff and taking risks is all a part of life." He grinned lightly, trying to curl an arm beneath his chin for comfort.

The weapon sighed and started to chuckle. "You're good. What's your name, cuz I'm Alfred F. Jones." He was going to consider this a draw.

"And, you're quite an idiot," Soran continued to lay on his back, speaking upwards toward the sky in general. It doesn't really surprise Soran as much as it did in the past, but he'd been getting the feeling that he somehow attracts the same type of people wherever he does; most of them being the dumb and stupid types.

Alfred F. Jones...An American name, which meant that this Weapon very much fit the stereotypes of what an American was. Once again, Soran groaned at his misfortune at how he seems the attract the same types of people. One was enough, but the Norwegian was unsure how he was going to live with knowing two noisy idiots; both of them even goes to the same school as Soran.

"Soran. My name's Soran Erikson," The Meister spoke matter-of-factly, with a hint of his usual sarcasim, "If you forget it, I'm going to have to beat to a pulp, the next time we meet," Soran chuckled slightly and readjusted himself just slightly on the ground, since he was for certain that he was going to be there for a while.

Hopefully, no teacher was going to catch to the two injured students outside, both just sprawled on the ground with rather serious wounds...Right?

Alfred flashed the boy a million-watt grin. His grin was goofy and stupid. Something you felt like you wanted to just punch upon seeing, but at the same time, the smile was contagious and it infected you with the good feeling the other had. "I've been called that more than once." Alfred chuckled, still keeping his stupid smile.

"Soran huh?" The weapon blinked. "That's a strange name, you must be from somewhere else, right?" He asked, feeling like he had made another friend even in someone who acted like his enemy at first. Soran was a strong person who gave him a run for his money and he felt compelled to, when he was feeling up to walk, train to be better than him.

"Ah, I sometimes forget names, but never faces, and I doubt you could beat me, but I'll try my hardest to remember." A laugh filled the clearing. It was annoying, but had the same traits as his smile. It just made you happy when you heard it.

He continued to chuckle even as he clenched his fists and pushed himself up with surprising access of strength that he was surprised he had. He sat against the fallen pillar, lolling his head back with a large sigh that lifted his chest visibly and deflated in a noisy way. "I'm calling this a tie." He smirked, turning his head to look over at Soran.

The other's stupid looking grin made Soran have an urge to kick it off his face, as he sometimes wanted to do with Mathias. Alfred's laugh was about the same too, and if Soran wasn't on the ground, he'd be up to kick him hard in the face, hopefully shutting him up for a good while.

"I'm from Norway; it's located just north of Europe," Soran was compelled to add the last part. If Alfred was a stereotypical American, he was going to need help with locating countries outside of America. Though, Soran somehow wondering if the Weapon even knew where Europe was...There was only one way to find out.

Soran was satisfied with calling this a tie; as long it wasn't a loss on his part, he wouldn't be complaining."Fine fine, whatever," His sarcastic tone could be heard as he was finally able to bring himself to his feet, although he was slowly stumbling along rather than walking. He was able to get himself to the broken pillar that Alfred was sitting at and placed a hand onto it as support. Soran gave out a hand and was willing to help the other get to the nurse's office, as it was probably best for the two of them.

It was also to see if Soran was correct on his assumption; to test whether or not if the souls of the two hyperactive, idiotic people were the same; the Meister lacked the ability to see souls, though he could catch at least a small glimpse of what it was through touch.

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ooc;; This is unrelated to this, but...Have you seen Admin-sama? I'm worried that she's left, along with some other people...

The young weapon watched Soran now out of curiosity, not as in battle. He could recall hearing about Norway or something once if he remembered correctly.

Alfred blinked to him, smirking. "Oh yeah? I remember this guy told me he was from around there. And I know Europe." He chuckled and willingly took Soran's hand, his energy drained. The blond tried his best not to put all his weight on Soran and have them both tumble over.

He got to his feet a bit warily, using the pillar to keep him up and from falling flat on his face. Tut he released his death grip on the pillar to try and regain his footing. "Never really been there, but I bet when I get better missions I'll be sent to places like that." He grinned.



((No, haven't. But I dunno if anyone left, it could be the fact school is ending still for some, other it's over and summer is a huge time-eater.))