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Post by CJ on Jan 29, 2013 14:32:59 GMT -5
A cowlick of blond hair bounced on the man's head as he rocked back and forth on his heels as he leaned over the counter in the mobile home. It was night and the glow of the three electric bulbs provided a low, orange dim light for its occupants, one for the kitchen and dining table and the third in the living room. A bedroom was hidden away behind a closed door. A large painting called "Renaissance" was hung on the living room wall, depicting dinosaurs roaming across a landscape.
"You're my new favorite, Zuzu," the man said to another sitting at the table. "I gotta say it. A lot of people who do this, they don't have your creativity. Every new fight, you try something new. It makes me giddy to think of how many bullets you took trying to get the good cowboy with your new toys."
He poured sake, soy sauce, ginger, honey and other things into a pan.
"Then, my dear Akki," he grinned, "you smashed her something good."
He struck a piece of salmon with a fork and placed it in the pan. He then placed it in a broiler and moved on.
"Look, your Highness. You keep failing in your methods, ultimately resorting to typical violence, but I think you can do it this time. I think you can really create a truly unique death!"
He shook a bowl of salad nearby and poured some homemade dressing over it. His eyes glanced over at the woman sitting cross-legged on the living room, quietly as she always did, nearby. Her fingers danced as they tapped buttons of her video game controller. Judging by pictures, quaint decorations and the name "Light" etched on several objects, it could be inferred it was her home.
Her 8 bit character fell into a lava pit by accident and roasted. His eyes widened slightly at this and he licked his lips. He shook his head and picked up the salad and placed it before the man at the table with a fork, knife and glass of wine.
"So, what do you say? Are you up for another round, Number Four?"
Henri Alain smiled at him with kind, pale green eyes. Thousand Island dressing was etched on the salad to form a "4."
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Jan 29, 2013 19:38:43 GMT -5
"Stop calling me Zuzu, and don't call me Four."
A monster of a man stood in the mobile home, tall enough and big enough that he was having a hard time of it. The number of weapons he normally had slung across his back every which way were now set on the floor, as he definitely would not have fit with them. Not only was it in stature that his appearance was disconcerting either, as he looked like a giant mummy in a flak vest. Only small amounts of skin could be seen amidst the mass of bandages covering his person, and what skin could be seen looked like someone had taken a blowtorch to it. The same with his head, only, with some amounts of black hair protruding from the wrappings. Everything about him looked like he could tear through the place like paper, but he just stood and listened. Whether he was uncomfortable by this place or the people in it, or he was just impatient, it was clear that he didn't want to be here.
"So, what do you say? Are you up for another round, Number Four?"
"There are none alive on the blue sea who can stop me. Just tell me who else is in the way."
He left his crew for a reason, and it was not without conviction. The world would know they were not to be taken lightly, not to be trifled with.
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Post by CJ on Jan 30, 2013 13:22:22 GMT -5
"Aw, come on, Zuzu," Henri whined. "Relax, would you? Sit down. Being Number Four isn't something to casually brush off. You've done a lot to get to this point."
He took a folder of documents from one of the drawers under the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper. He pushed in front of the man gingerly next to the uneaten salad. It was a map of where he needed to go and at what time.
"Your next target's an oldie. He's not like you, all tough, mighty and ugly. He's reserved, gentlemanly. Even likes my banana nut muffins!"
Henri grinned, but his smile soon changed into a cold frown.
"Thing is, though. I can't stand him. Hasn't killed a single person in his time on the Grand Path. He way he fights, you could get some really unique deaths out of it! But he doesn't and that makes me angry more than anything else."
He shook his head and his usual, giddy grin came back. He rang a bell on the counter and glared up at the man.
"Now eat your dinner so you can properly kill this loser! You said it yourself, Zuzu. You've got work to do!"
Henri slid the plate of salmon, potatoes and asparagus in front of the man. Glazed on the salmon was a great, lovely "Zuzu" and a sideways heart.
(At this point, Kylor should establish the playing field and perhaps introduce his character in a short, brief scene. Then Shark can move his character into the scene.)
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Post by Kyubey on Jan 31, 2013 3:03:02 GMT -5
Meanwhile...
Ferro Island was not always such a dark place, but with the huge gray clouds passing over it, this day in particular certainly was foreboding. It was a perfectly rectangular island, with small towns on either end, and dense forests and strange rock formations in the middle. As far as islands went, it was small, but it was comfortable, as long as you avoided the dangerous jungle animals that ran about. The rocks were why most came to this otherwise dull land, for they were as majestic as they were impossible. Mountains of twisted, curved shapes dotted the forests of Ferro, with a huge one in the center that seemed to spiral straight upwards, reaching nearly to the heavens. For an island located in the first half of the Grand Line, Ferro certainly was one-of-a-kind. It was at the foot of the center landmark that two unlikely figures were crouched down, in a dried-up riverbed, gazing down at the tiny black stones at their feet, which were unique to that island only.
"Now this here," said the first of them, a dashing young Fishman, "is what this we're all about, Terrence. Gravel of the finest quality! Can't find anything like this anywhere else. Look at how you can see my face reflected even off of the tiniest pieces! And look, you can even see your face, too! This! Is what I've been dreaming of! All my life! What a great day this is!"
"Really, Halvard? So we've finished our journey so soon?"
"Well, no. This is the stuff of brilliance, true, but answer me this! Is just one thing enough to satiate you? Are you truly so simple that you'd be content with just this? If you were given the option to eat only one thing for the rest of your life, would you? I bet you would! Not me! Oh no! The dreamland I'll be making will have all sorts of Gravel, not simply this one kind! Yes, if our journey is to be only this, then it's completely worthless to a great man like myself! One kind of gravel might as well be no kind of gravel, to a Chairman!"
"Uh, alright. I don't get it at all, but alright."
"Also, don't call me Halvard anymore. That's what you call wimps. And folks named Halvard. But I am a Chairman, and you shall call me as such!"
"Chairman of what, Chairman? It's just us here."
"Doesn't matter, we are a club regardless!"
"We are?"
"Sure we are! Who ever said you had to have a bunch of people to have a club? Foolish people, I tell ya! Besides, we aren't just two. We are, as follows: Halvard S. Gravele, The Chairman, and Halvard the Great! Guest starring Terrence! There! Four people! That's a club in anyone's book, right? And I call this club... drumroll, please..."
Terrence did his best to imitate a drumroll, even though he wasn't really expected to.
"The Gravel Club!"
"Leaping lizards! That's the most gravelest name for a gravel club I ever heard!"
"Hm. Wait, no. No it's not."
"It isn't?"
"Nah. It isn't. We need something better. Something catchier. Something harder to say... Hm. Something that shows how devoted we are to the art of gravel appreciation. Something that just screams, 'ENTHUSIASTS!'"
"Then, ah, might I suggest the 'Gravel Enthusiasts Club,' gentlemen? That has a rather nice ring to it, does it not?"
"NO! I HATE IT! I hate all of it! It doesn't fit at all! That was a terrible idea! I feel awful just for having heard it!"
"Well, pardon me then."
"No, we need a real name. Like, the Gravel Enthusiasts Fanclub!"
"Yowzers! Great name, Chairman! The Gravel Enthusiasts Fanclub... yeah, that's a name I can get behind!"
"Oh! How right you are! Such an improvement!"
"Why thank you... whoever you are!"
"It's Terrence, Chairman!"
"No! No nope no! Not you! Other guy! Weird... old... guy."
Standing beside Halvard and Terrence was indeed a slender old man, in his mid sixties. And indeed, he was a bit weird. He had long hair that he kept in a singular braid, and wore a light pink business suit. A thin pair of glasses decorated his clean shaven face. The old man seemed to have dragged in an absurdly large suitcase, but neither Terrence nor Halvard noticed the fellow enter.
"Please, sirs, call me Moisant," the old man said with a bow.
"Okay then, Mr. Moist Ant! Wanna join our club? You helped name it and all."
"Terrence, what are you doing? I'm the only one who can invite people! And he at least has to be some kind of Unit before he becomes a full-time member! That's the rules of the Club, that have been around since the beginning! You don't wanna break the traditions do you? The traditions that got us this far?"
"Oh no, I'm not looking to join any causes at the moment. But thank you for asking, Mr. Giant. Really now, it was a pleasure to meet you two, but I'm actually in a bit of a hurry. As are you two, in fact."
"Pfft! Sorry bro, we ain't goin' nowhere. I intend to stay right here with this gravel for at least the next five years."
"While that commitment is astounding, I do not think that is a good idea. There's a nasty storm coming soon, and you'd want to be inside somewhere when it hits. There's a town not too far from here. Leave now and you'd be sure to find an inn long before the storm graces this land."
"HA! Trying to get me to leave this gravel so you can take it for yourself, huh? Sorry pal. You're gonna have to fight me for it? You gonna fight me? HA! Didn't think so. Nobody's strong enough to fight me and walk away, that's for sure."
"Uh, I think Suitcase Unit's right, Chairman. From the way the clouds look, it's gonna start raining in no time."
...
"...Did you just say rain?"
"Oh yes, and a mighty bad rain. An umbrella might be wise, but it looks like you fellas don't have one."
"Uh, um, dammit. Okay. Terrence, grab this gravel and run."
"What? Are we really gonna run away from this?"
"Yes we're gonna fucking run away! Uh, no time to explain! Just save the gravel and go!"
"How much of it?"
"Sheesh, you're acting like there's an answer to that that's not 'all of it.' Take all of it!"
"Er, I can grab a handful, maybe, but not all of it!"
"What? Can your impure soul not handle all the glorious gravel?"
"No, it can, it really can, but your boat's not big enough to hold all this, Chairman! It's gonna sink!"
"What? Really? Crap! Then we'll just have to get a bigger boat later!"
"You can't have a huge boat with only us, though! You'd really need more clubmembers to maintain a bigger ship!"
"Then how about this: We get more people! A bunch more! And a girl!"
Terrence peered at Halvard confusedly. "Why a girl?"
"Because! We just gotta have a girl! Don't you feel it?"
The two friends continued their banter as they started towards the town. Moisant waved merrily at what was only the beginnings of a club, as he turned around and began walking casually in the opposite direction, his suitcase rolling behind him as he strolled up the big spiral rock formation, which was as black as the little gravel pieces below, humming a carefree tune all the while.
"Hm, that fellow is supposed to show up at any minute," Moisant muttered to himself as he began to reach the top. "Oh dear. I hope I'm not late to my own fight. That would be embarrassing. And the last thing, the last thing I'd want to do is to make myself out to be a buffoon in front of this youngster. Little ones these days need to see nothing but the best, or else they won't learn any respect. That's what my grandfather always said. Or was it my uncle..."
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 1, 2013 3:36:34 GMT -5
"That's a nice view. Think so?"
At such a time as when the King caught up with the old man, whether it was during the ascent of the spiral formation or near the peak, he didn't launch into an attack. He just trudged right past him to stand by the edge, and look out over the island. Unlike in the mobile home, he could carry his weapons now, and he did so on his back. Long poles and rods with small cannons and rockets attached, all crisscrossing his back in an intersecting fashion, all aligned in a haphazard manner. If there was some reason as to why they had been set up this way, it wasn't clear, and more actually it just looked like he had taken the mass of munitions and slung them carelessly across his back.
"I've seen nicer, but still, for the blue sea it's fairly impressive."
He stood with his arms crossed as he looked across the verdant greenery of the island, speaking to the old man indirectly. Perhaps it was because he was not afraid of the fellow, or perhaps it was because he honestly didn't expect an attack, but whatever the case he left himself exposed to a perfect sneak attack.
It seemed he was just more interested in seeing the sight and talking, than he was acting cautiously.
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 3, 2013 0:05:19 GMT -5
The giant rock formation would have looked vaguely cone-shaped from a distance, twisting up towards the heavens until it came to a sharp pointed end at the very top, like a giant black spike looming just below the heavens. The edges of the cone were just narrow enough for a man to walk on it comfortably, but one still might find movement in general to be fairly restricted, unless they were aiming to slip and fall off. Standing on it would be like walking on a massive spiral staircase, with a smooth even surface, even enough to stand on without falling over but still at a notable incline. No grass or moss grew on these rocks, and they were devoid of life in general, save for the two men who currently stood on the largest one. Although they were made by nothing but the elements, the formations of Ferro Island seemed to be more sculpture than nature, giving them a very mysterious feeling. This was only one of the reasons why Moisant felt so drawn to them.
"You have excellent taste, good sir," said Moisant conversationally. "I've always found the atmosphere on stormy days to be the most wonderful. Do you agree?"
Though Moisant did question the wisdom in a man who left his back to the enemy, he respectfully chose not to take advantage of the opening the King left for him by leaving his back open. Moisant was not the sort of person who would ever punish someone for appreciating beautiful scenery. He did not approach the King, and quietly unzipped his suitcase, before removing a large, hefty glove that fit snugly on his hand.
"Ah, I just love this wind before a storm, the scent it carries, that inexplicable yet so fantastic feeling in the air. It's a warning for some, true, but I guess I'm just too sentimental to really fear a good storm like this one." As he was saying this, the wind seemed to pick up, and would have been blowing especially hard up on such an altitude. Already they would be feeling the first few drops of rain fall, and the clouds above them began to shift, as if the island itself was setting the stage for the fighters. While still looking out at the rustling trees below and the turbulent clouds above, Moisant pulled the second item from his suitcase, a beautifully ornate trident, that seemed to be made to be displayed rather than used, though close inspection would reveal it's sharpness and effectiveness as a weapon.
"Looks as if it's about time for us to begin. Shall we get started right away, or perhaps you'd like to chat for a bit first? I'd hate for our battle to be over before we even got to know each other."
Even with a weapon in his hand, Moisant did not seem incredibly eager to fight. In fact, it did appear that he would have been much happier sitting at the edge of the spiral and conversing with the king, regardless of what he came for. Still, he knew that wouldn't be the case, and they did have a goal to accomplish, unpleasant though it may have been.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 3, 2013 1:32:17 GMT -5
He would have said something like, "Hell no, it isn't a good day unless I can see the sun.", but he didn't. He froze up at the question, as it brought back memories he did not want. Painful memories, of a time when the sun was something to be feared. He didn't like storms, but he couldn't express his true feelings either. Then again, was there any need? He felt his appearance spoke for him.
"Looks as if it's about time for us to begin. Shall we get started right away, or perhaps you'd like to chat for a bit first? I'd hate for our battle to be over before we even got to know each other."
"I didn't come here to get to know anyone. You can walk away if you want, chat with the winds if that pleases you."
The King watched the storm brewing, wind whipping the few tufts of black hair that poked out of the mass of bandages wrapping his face. Rain might be trouble for him, considering what he fought with. He wasn't about to change his battle strategy for the weather though, not right before he needed it.
"I'm in no hurry, but I would like to do what I came here to do. If that is alright with you, Sir."
Eventually at some point he noticed that the other fellow was armed and ready, wondering how long he had been like that. Also how long he could have just attacked or even pushed the King off the cliff. At the very least this guy wasn't as bloodthirsty as most of the others.
"Whatever you want to do. I would also like to not get wet though, and that storm is coming fast."
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 4, 2013 2:39:26 GMT -5
"Chat with the winds? I'd rather not. Much as I love to talk, I love to listen just as much, and I fear that speaking to something that won't ever answer me would only be distressing. No, talking with people, any person, really, is far preferable. It's a shame, though, when your words take on meanings you never meant them to."
Moisant shook his head at the King solemnly. One might have wondered why a man with no clear taste for battle was in the Grand Path in the first place, yet here he was, there of his own free will. Tucking the trident under his arm for a moment, he removed his glasses and placed them in a small case which he kept in his jacket pocket.
"All very well then. I understand. I won't keep you too long. Storms are lovely, true, but they're best viewed from a distance. Let's fight and be done with it."
Still keeping his trident under his arm, Moisant reached back into his suitcase and removed a single hard black orb, of the same shade and seemingly of the same substance as the spiral he stood on. He placed the sphere on top of its container for just a second, as he turned a small knob that was located at the bottom of his trident. After he was finished with this, he held the weapon in one hand, now keeping it pointed squarely at the King, and holding the orb in his other hand, the one that was gloved. He shifted his body so that his side was turned towards the King, with his head facing his opponent directly.
"Now then," he said calmly, "If you will, let this lonely old man tell you one thing about himself before we begin tearing at one another. As much as I've made some rather unfortunate choices in the past, all in all I still like to fashion myself as something of a gentleman. Manners and basic human courtesy are beginning to slip from us, and in some way I like to uphold them. Therefore, as the one being challenged in this duel, I wish to offer you a choice. Shall I make the first move? Or will you? Either one, I will accept." He smiled warmly, but only for a few seconds, before his face gradually turned hard. "And I shall warn you. That shall be the last courtesy I extend until there is a victor of the duel. I will not hold back in our fight, good sir. And I hope that you will not do the same on account of my age. When one of us wins, it will be of our own strength and wit. That is all."
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 4, 2013 12:52:52 GMT -5
"And I shall warn you. That shall be the last courtesy I extend until there is a victor of the duel. I will not hold back in our fight, good sir. And I hope that you will not do the same on account of my age. When one of us wins, it will be of our own strength and wit. That is all."
"That sounds fair. Come on then, hit me with your best shot."
He wasn't really surprised, but the King was at least intrigued. Most people would have just attacked him by now, and very few if any offered this kind of courtesy when so much was on the line. He had met polite people before, and he had fought them before, but it was not often that he had come across a person with this kind of honor. Therefore it seemed only appropriate that he allow the defender the advantage by moving first.
Thusly he turned to face the old man, back to the storm. Standing with his arms crossed, he waited to see what this person was capable of. Hopefully he wouldn't just try to run forward and push the King off the formation, that would shatter his perceptions of the man.
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 6, 2013 1:57:03 GMT -5
"Finally, you've turned around. Now I can duel you properly. Like you said, I shall make the first move. Truth be told, I hardly ever meet an opponent as decent as you. I wish I could wish you luck, but instead, allow me to say, no matter what the outcome may be, I hope this is a good match. Now then, enough with the chatting. Have at you!"
Given the King's stature, he would find it hard to move around in the narrow space they were on. This proved to be ideal for Moisant, who took his first step forward, and dashed at his opponent at a swift pace, far quicker than anyone might have expected from one of his age. When the King was within range of his trident, Moisant came to a firm and grounded stop, before thrusting his weapon at the King's chest. It was an attack that might have been easily dodged in other circumstances, but in this case the King would have a dangerous lack of space to do so. Moisant was merely testing the King with this attack, hoping to learn more about his enemy from how he would react.
As the fight began, they might have noticed the storm picking up on Ferro Islands. The winds were blowing stronger, the rain was quickening in pace, and in the distance the sound of thunder boomed.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 6, 2013 11:42:01 GMT -5
The King was somewhat caught off guard when Moisant simply stopped before him and telegraphed his attack, assuming the man would have just dashed straight and attempted to skewer him. Well, maybe he hadn't assumed that he would have dashed, given his age, but that was roughly how he would have expected any sort of attack like that to go. This one didn't however, so he had time to react and when Moisant went for the stab, he brought his arm around and simply grabbed the weapon behind the tines and stopped the trident from impaling him.
His arm shook from the initial stress, but soon enough he lifted the end of the trident up so that it was not immediately in his way. Stepping forward, he brought his free hand forward in an open palmed strike aimed at Moisant's chest. The intent was simply to push the old man away, though given the King's monstrous frame this might amount to a very strong punch. It was worth noting that he didn't let go of the trident with his other hand, still holding it aloft, and it was his aim to separate Moisant from his weapon by simply knocking him back and maintaining a grip on said weapon.
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 7, 2013 1:27:54 GMT -5
Moisant was impressed by the King being fast enough to catch the spear before the blow landed. Given his massive size, the older man didn't think it would have been possible for him to react to such a quick stab. If Moisant hadn't taken the time to ground himself before attacking, the fight may have ended right there, as he needed the trident to continue the battle. This fight would at least be fascinating.
Given their close quarters, and the fact that the King had one hand occupied with the spear, Moisant was easily able to predict the King's next action, given their limited options for movement. As the King thrust his palm forward, Moisant threw the orb he was holding up into the air, freeing his gloved hand, and caught the strike before it landed. The King would notice that, despite the force behind the blow, Moisant's body didn't seem to shake at all, and he remained in his grounded stance. Having prevented himself from being forced backwards, he twisted the trident, attempting to wrench it back from the King's control, and would then try to bring it downwards to stab the man. Given the unfavorable position of the weapon, the attack wouldn't do very much good, but Moisant hoped he would at least be able to pierce the King's shoulder and preferably put himself back into a favorable position.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 7, 2013 12:37:55 GMT -5
Moisant's ploy worked, insofar as he was able to wrest the trident from the King's grip. The next attack as well, worked and stabbed him right in the shoulder. The problem though was that because of the flak vest he was wearing, it was impossible to tell the extent the attack actually had on the man himself. The trident pierced the vest and stuck in, but there wasn't a gushing of blood or anything, and the King didn't respond to the attack.
Since Moisant had stopped the strike from his palm though, Asuza simply clamped his hand down on the old man's in a death grip, and with his free hand grabbed the pole of the trident further up than he had before (given that it was now partly sticking out of him). Holding onto these two, he simply pushed forward now in a bull rush. The intent was to dash towards the wall, and smash the old man against the rock formation.
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Post by Kyubey on Feb 9, 2013 3:34:14 GMT -5
Moisant was trapped as Asuza charged forward. The old man was greatly impressed by the King's pure physical ability, and how he was able to stay so stoic and levelheaded. If it was a contest of merely brute force, Moisant would have been completely outdone right there. Already he knew that there was no avoiding getting smashed against the wall, that was a blow he would just have to take, for all his immediate options were smartly blocked off. Moisant raised his legs upwards into a kicking position, to fight back against the charge, but at best it would probably just slow down the King a little, enough so the impact wouldn't kill him.
Moisant knew he had only a few good seconds before he made contact with the wall, seconds he had to use well, lest he begin to fall behind in the match. His hand ran down the shaft of the trident, until it reached the bottom, where the knob was located. He gave the strange little knob a twist, and then sharply pulled the trident towards himself. This would be roughly the same time that the black orb he sent into the air before would be making its descent.
The trident began to emit a faint, highly specialized magnetic signal, which resonated with the sphere, and it began to race at a high speed towards the weapon, responding to the pull of Moisant's hand, as well as the speed of Asuza's charge. At the moment Moisant hit the wall of the spiral, coughing with blood and feeling the pain shoot across his body, the magnetic sphere would also possibly collide with Asuza, hitting with a force similar to that of a cannonball.
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Post by Shark a' Pult on Feb 10, 2013 0:58:36 GMT -5
The King had noticed the strange sphere which the old man tossed in the air, but when it didn't do anything he just pushed it behind more important details to focus on. He remained aware of it, but he certainly didn't expect it to fly at him in an attack, let alone the speed and force with which it did. Given his potion, he could not avoid it so easily.
When the sphere collided, there was an audible crack as something inside the King either broke or was dislocated. The sphere hit him right in the side, but even with the flak jacket on, the force was more than enough to cause serious harm. As such, Asuza was sent careening off to the side in a ghastly tumble, to the extent where he almost fell right off the side of the formation altogether. Had he not managed to catch the edge just barely, he probably would have been done for, as a fall from this height would surely be fatal.
Given his physical stature as well as all of his equipment, even the King had a hard time hanging on for all his strength, and he only managed to pull himself up to his chest with his arms on the ledge. He was not able to fully get onto the level of the formation he had been though, but he didn't let Moisant get in a free cheap shot. Breaking a chunk off the ledge, Asuza promptly hurled it at the old man with the usual extreme force attributed to the King. In doing so however, he lost his grip again, and slid back a bit so that about only his arms and shoulders were visible from the level of formation that Moisant was still on. Also his head was exposed, of course.
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