the announcerbooth sits high in orbit wtahcing the arena through a holo projector.......this time the arena was a steel cage with barbed wire around it. no escape from it besides the tournaments teleporters.

"this seems to be a promising first match in this unique tournament!" the announcer said as he pressed a button and teleported J'en Borceni and Jonas Cain to the arena. the robo referee is teleported in for a briefing with the two contendors.


"the rules are simple.....there are none. the winner is decided through judges and who is left standing. and by stanbding i elaborate by saying who is left alive. the winner remains wounded but the loser is revived and healed and sent back to their world/time period or wherever they have been transported from. anything can be used as a weapon.....if you can find one that is......and everything is legal. with that said let the match commense!" the roboref said as he was teleprted out of the ring. the announcer rang the bell and began the match.




((i will only interject during the match if both judges tell me to use an eliminator.))

Not wanting to waste time, Jonas immediately did two back handsprings, putting distance between him and his opponent. He reached to his belt and grabbed a small metal pole, which then rapidly lengthened into a sturdy metal staff. He began to spin his staff in a circle in front of him, spinning faster and faster until it became a blur. Jonas condensed the air particles he was displacing with his movements into a ball in front of his spinning staff. The ball of condensed air grew quickly to the size of a beach ball, at which point Jonas launched it at his opponent's chest.

((Sorry about being a day late))

J'en's opponent seemed more than anxious in regard to this form of contest, a test of mettle like none this Sylvillian ever knew. The mage barely had adequete time to gain his bearings when the monk drew a glimmering staff from his side (which at rest was no larger than his own thumb) and began to spin it at phenominal speeds. Events led to consequences, and it was not long before an orbical concentration of air particles was hurdled at J'en.

"Shoot, shoot-shoot!" The Thaumaturgist muttered to himself in a hesitant panic, the wrinkles on his face augmented by the inherent stress of the situation. He held his arms before him and closed his eyes (only his fore-and-middle fingers were extended); after several seconds, his hands began to quake violently. Molten materials began to precipitate seemingly from thin air before him, slowly forming into a curtain before him. It first covered the desired surface area before him, then expanded to the proper dimensions. Finally, when the barricade was near completion, it let loose a great hiss of steam and precipitate - which is precisely when the sphere of energy collided with the wall.

When the cloud finally dissapated, a transluscent wall obstructed his view of Jonas, as well as fortunately impeding the attack launched upon him. The success with which he succeeded was negligible, however; while the outermost strata of the shield retained its proper specifications, the center concaved inwards at J'en's chest, the innermost surface being no thicker than one's cuticle.

"This is but a taste of what Silicomancy can do; you've yet to see the art's full ingenuity, its finess, its full aptitude. The fools who refuse to recognize me will soon regret ever doing so--" he pointed a menacing finger at Jonas, and had since stepped out from behind his makeshift blockade "--as will you if you do not follow in kind."

His hands then wrapped around a pole or handle that was in no way tangible; once more were his eyes closed and his fore-and-middle fingers extended. Another explosion of steam, and a long-handled mallet lay heavily in his grip (the handle exceptionally smooth as to aviod lacerating his hand). J'en was not yet prepared to assault the monk before him, as evident from the perspiration forming on his forehead; he was at least more prepared than what he was several minutes ago, which was…not at all.

Jonas did not expect his attack to do much damage. If it had, this would not have been much of a fight.

"Your hocus-pocus is no match for the power of the Shaolin. You face a thousand years of collective wisdom and skill. Your 'aptitude' cannot possibly compare to the power of Shaolin Combat Energy!"

With that, Jonas held out his staff in front of him. He drew the mage's blockade towards him, bits of molten material coming together to form an orb at the head of his staff. Once the energy of the barrier had been fully transferred, Jonas let out a short yell, and shards of the orb began to shoot out at the mage at the speed of bullets, and at the rate of a machine gun.

"…Hocus-pocus?" Even J'en, the target of ridicule, could not help but laugh at this pitiful attempt to break his spirit. "Though you'd be the last to make my word seriously, I can assure you this is no simple trickery. I will demonstrate this yet, and you will understand!"

The full impact this utterance had was hard to measure, however, for at the time J'en's own barrier of glass dissapated and instead collected in a sphere at the head of Jonas' staff. As they then began to fire as miniature, jagged shards, He came to realize the mallet in his hand was quite useless; what good is such a weapon if you cannot close the distance with your opponent? Time to redesign, then, J'en thought to himself, swiftly shifting into a sprint as to dodge J'en's fire. Circling the Shaolin monk, he held his right hand near the head of his mallet, which quickly heated up and began to form into a whole new shape with great surface area. When it was cooled by yet another great burst of steam, J'en was knelt behind this new object: a giant glass parasol.

"Maybe I'm not as powerful as you, and not at all well-versed in the way of the Shaolin, but we'll see who is more resourceful," J'en quipped in a distracting manner as his left hand discreetly formed a very jagged and serrated obsidian dirk; one of the Thaumaturgist's personal favorites. Nothing cute quite like glass, after all.

Jonas turned to face the mage, who now held a glass parasol and an obsidian dirk.

"Cute. Very cute."

Jonas held out his hand, and the glass dirk shattered into countless tiny pieces.

"But you'll have to make something more sturdy than glass to fight me."

Jonas retracted his hand, then thrust it out again slightly to the left of the wizard. A high wind picked up behind the mage, catching his parasol and pulling him very rapidly towards the stadium wall.

"…You've go to be kidding me!" J'en shouted in disbelief, delicately brushing fragments of the former obsidian dagger off his hand. Not only had this monk spotted his seemingly concealed weapon, but he had also disarmed him with a mere wave of his hand? Who was he, and why was he so intent on defeating, nay, destroying him?

Suddenly, he could feel himself being dragged forward, and the parasol scraped and crackled against the ground as it slid steadily towards the wall. J'en's royal blue robes fluttered more and more violently, and the umbrella picked up the sudden gust of wind along with a great burst of speed. J'en was then dragged to his feet as the stadium wall quickly loomed before him. Try as he might to slow himself or impede this crude conveyence, it was to no avail. Fortunately, genius struck at the very last minute:

Let go.

The parasol then tumbled violently towards the stadium wall, sans one passenger. With a suprisingly mild crash, the glass shattered into several thousand pieces; even the handle was dashed. J'en bent over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily: he was summoning much too frequently, it (along with the running and whatnot he had been doing; J'en was not the fittest of individuals) was fatiguing him far more than he desired. But what more could he do? It's not as if he could reuse material he had previously summo--

Wait, he could reuse materials as such! Why couldn't he?!

It had completely slipped his mind that he had simply restructured his mallet to act as a parasol! The process of recycling summoned matter was a lot less taxing than conjuring the material and then transmutating it. J'en sauntered to the pile of shattered material, holding his hands forward and creating for himself a pair of gauntlets with very large spines eminating from the knuckles; these spines were in very similar fashion to his former obsidian dagger: very jagged and ready to leave shards of itself embedded in any wounds it created. Lunging himself at Jonas with his newly acquired armament, he sweptly his right fist underhandedly at the follower of the Shaoilin's admoninal area.

Jonas sighed with exasperation.

"What did I just finish saying about GLASS?!"

Jonas merely held out his hand again, and again, the gauntlet exploded, this time imbedding pieces in the mages hand. Jonas looked the mage in the eyes.

"You just don't listen, do you?"

With that, he began to hit the mage in the face repeatedly with his staff. Each blow struck hard, with full force behind it.

J'en's current stroke of brilliance had so swiftly turned to his greatest blunder: the gauntlets he wore, made of recycled glass material, had since shattered, embedding hundreds of serrated shards of glass within the flesh of his hands. His pupils constricted erratically and his mouth was agape in pain; the 'laugh-lines' of his cheeks had taken on a sharper, darker definition that expressed all but joy.

He stared at his maimed hands in disbelief. Blood and glass alike glistened in the light of the sun. This fighter, whoever he was, and why he was ever here, had completely had found means of overcoming, exploiting, and outright cancelling out his greatest strength! There seemed to be no rhyme of reason to the source of his abilities, and overcoming his relentless attacks would be increasingly diffic--

Thoof!

J'en's neck jerked violently as the side of his mouth was harshly struck by the butt of Jonas' staff. Another blow landed, this time to the direct right of his nose, below his eye. A third, his left brow. Each attack sent the mage hobbling backwards, stumbling blindly and aching for solid footing. His eyes became blackened; his cheeks bruised; his mouth bleeding. Action had to be taken; J'en couldn't take much more of this.

With all abandon for the injury of his hands, J'en grabbed the end of the staff after the last blow had connected and pulled it harshly beyond his shoulder. He then grasped at Jonas' hands, which were still tightly grasping the weapon, and began to seal his hands to the staff with porcelain; his hands were fortunately not damaged enough to interrupt and impede his casting. Hoping to take advantage of any possible suprise he caught the monk in, he fondled for his head through his half-shut eyes, hoping to seal it in an orb of glass.

Jonas looked down at his hands, which were being sealed to the staff with porcelain. He was in disbelief. Why didn't this mage understand that glass was so utterly fragile?!

He quickly backflipped away from the mage, kicking him square in the face as he did so. He saw that the mage was already bruised and bloodied, but Jonas wasn't going to show any mercy now. He looked down at the thin porcelain seal that his hands were encased in. He let out a short yell, and the seal exploded, sending shards of porcelian everywhere. Most of the shards bounced off of his kevlar-reinforced robes, but a few sliced across his right cheek, leaving him with three claw-like cuts on his face.

Jonas decided to try and end the fight now. He focused his energy into a tight ball, then let the orb of condensed energy draw up his staff, forming a white glow around his staff and hands. When the white light became so intense that the staff could no longer be seen, Jonas took his chance. He lunged at the mage, swinging his staff with all his might. The staff, enhanced with pure energy, hit the mage square in the jaw.

The announcer looked happy as he got word from the officials*not the judges* to poush.....the red.....button.

"well, this match is going to get a lot better" he said. "our first eliminator is going to be making an appearance here and........NOW!" he said as he slammed his palm down on the red button. with that a huge beam of light forms in between the two warriors separating them.the beam stayed for a few moments and then dissapeared only leaving smoke behind. nothing could be seen from the smoke but all that could be heard was "kak....arot....." over and over again. after about thirty second the large powerhouse known as brolly shot out of the shadow with blood red eyes.....something that had been done to him to make everyone he saw look like kakarot(goku) towards jonas. brolly grabbed him by the head and swung him into the steel cage wall making him get stuck on the barbed wire. he then commenced to pummel the hell out of jonas.

Jonas thanked god for his kevlar, which was absorbing at least some of the impact of Brolly's unrelenting blows. However, if he kept this up, Jonas' bones would be breaking soon. He had to think of something fast.

Jonas concentrated with all his might on drastically lowering the air pressure behind Brolly. It took him about 15 seconds to do so. When he was finished, 110mph winds blew up around Jonas and Brolly, pushing Brolly back and pulling Jonas off of the wall. The whirlwind died down qucikly, and Jonas got to his feet. His lip was bleeding, and so were his hands, which had been caught on the barbed wire. He would no doubt be covered in bruises the next day.

Jonas may have been bruised and bloodied physically, but his attitude had not changed. He did his best to smile through his pain.

"Finally, a challenge."

With that, Jonas piointed his staff behind him at the barbed wire fencing. Part of the top row of wire ripped off and flew quickly towards Jonas. It twirled gracefully in front of Jonas like a living creature. He then pointed his staff at Brolly, at which point the barbed wire shot out and wrapped itself tightly around Brolly, digging into his skin.

The announcer pressed the button again and brolly dissapeared and so did the two warriors.

"the match is over! now its time for the judges to go deliberate and choose a winner" the announcer said as the two warriors appeared battered and bloodied infront of the judges.

I'd like to step in here. I want to call this match on account of me being a jackass. Either give the win to James, or if you want, we can do a rematch. I don't care either way.