Control (Broly vs Crono)

Let the energy flow through you Crono. It is like water, do not let it go rampant and destroy unwarranted. Direct it. Dig a trench in your mind and only let it flow through that trench. Let it pool in your palms,and then releas it upon your enemy at your discretion.

No matter how many times Crono mulled over the words of the Cat Hermit, Korin, he struggled with the actual application to the idea. Every time he drew upon his spirit energy, it felt like trying to stop a tsunami with a sandbag. He didn't even open the door fully, for he couldn't over come his fear. All he remembered was the massive smoking crater he left in the mountains. It had been as if an atom bomb went off.

He stared down at his palms. They were covered in thick calluses, dirt seemingly ingrained into his flesh.

This power, it is scary. How am I to avenge you uncle, if I cannot control it?

The Land of Korin was about as remote as you could get. He wasn't afraid of hurting any people. Sure, there would be animals and dinosaurs that would suffer, but that wasn't as bad as if he were to wipe out a small village.

I need to just do this, get it over already.

He raised hand up, aiming at the line of trees across the meadow. It was then he saw how badly he was shaking. Fear. It's just in my head. I got this....

The power inside of him churned, like a hungry dragon waiting to be released. Closing his eyes, he opened the door. And, just as he expected, it erupted. A crimson aura exploded around him, spreading out in all directions, turning the foliage into ash.

Gritting his teeth, he fought against feeling that he was being torn apart from the inside out. It was as if he were trying to wrangle an unruly beast. The ground beneath his feet cracked and split in all directions, forming a spiderweb. As he power continued to climb, hunks of rock and soil floated up around him, suspended by nothing more than his spiritual pressure.

In front of his hand, a small orb of spirit energy began to collect, swelling in size. He let out a joyful cheer; he was doing it. For the first time ever, he was controlling his own spirit energy. But, his elation had proved to be a bad distraction. Like a football player too concerned with showboating, he dropped the proverbial ball. The energy spiraled out of control and... he exploded.

A dome of red spiritual energy spread out for miles in all directions, burning through everything in its path. Crono was at the center of the release, floating up off of the ground. With all of his remaining will, he ushered the energy back into its cage, but by the time he was able get it sealed away, it was too late.

He stood upon a field of death. Gasping for air, he collapsed to his knees, choking on the thick black smoke rising up from ember ridden ground. What in the world was he going to do with himself if he couldn't get something so fundamental down?

---

Actions:

1) Power Up - +18 FP
2) Shock Wave (Rank 2) - +43 FP

WC: 538

Broly had just penetrated the cloud barrier when he caught sight of a massive explosion, rocking the landscape and sending a large pillar of smoke upward toward the sky. The explosion was a blood-red crimson, a heavy contrast to the green landscape it was erupting around, and presented an even more obvious alternative to the soft blue sky it was underneath. His jaw slowly descended, more out of confusion than anything else. He certainly hadn't expected to catch sight of such a thing, and he knew he hadn't been the cause. His energy was more or less contained, excluding a few small tendrils rising lazily off of his chest. Though, those were a brilliantly glowing emerald-esque green, whereas the energy that lay below was more ominous. It wasn't just the color that was dangerous looking, however. It crackled with electricity, as if the user was unable to contain it; as if it'd been an accident. What kind of bastard fucked up the country side on accident?

Broly hadn't yet met a creature with such inclinations, but he could only assume that the experience would provide him with an interesting time. He had just emerged from Kami's tower, after all. Spending the day doing tasks for a rapidly aging, mostly benevolent Namek was not exactly something he took pride in. It was more demeaning than anything else, annoying and completely irrelevant until he received the old man's rewards. Watching intently as the explosion gave way to a rising cloud of smoke, the warrior began his approach. Even though he wasn't being forced to investigate this disturbance, he felt obligated. Something with enough power to demolish a fair portion of forestry and country side was not to be ignored, after all. Besides, it wasn't as though he had something of higher worth to be attending to. Hell, even if he had, they could have screwed off. He'd found something that actually happened to be worth his attention.

Breaking through the cloud of smoke with his breath held, he turned his eyes toward the epicenter of the eruption, searching through the flames and ash for the cause. That was no easy task, as it happened. The creator of this explosion had riddled the place with pocket craters and wildfires, an obvious sign that he was unable to control his energy. Had he been genuinely hoping to train, he'd have reduced their force to a concussive blast, as opposed to an equivalent to lighting a massive propane tank on fire, while standing atop an oil rig. In the middle of a fucking minefield. It had taken him several moments before he finally acquired a lock onto the one responsible, through the ashen remains of the field. Any trees that had been surrounding the guy had been completely leveled, and trees in the distance could be seen uprooted and burning gently. The grass immediately around him still existed, but it was scorched and black; grass did not burn after all.

Everything else was entirely decimated, removed in the purest sense. All that could be seen covering the ground was a base layer of soil, mixed in with a black-sooty substance that wasn't quite ash. It was as if the boy had caused a Volcano to erupt upon his position, but the energy was all from one source. Touching down a few feet away from what looked as though it may have been the original detonation zone, and his new acquaintance, the warrior glanced him up and down. The boy looked tired, confused. Perhaps the friendly neighborhood serial murderer could have been of assistance? Grinning grimly, Broly made his presence known with a quick bark toward the youth, meant both to intimidate and to alert. It wasn't as though he was completely in the dark on the double purpose, and he liked to prove that he was capable of making use of such things.

"Boy! Did you cause that geyser of energy? Was that your inability, or your intent?", he had to admit; he hadn't seen something so destructive since his birth. A legendary super baby popping out of a regular Saiyan woman was not something you wanted to catch on the VHS; never the less, those poor alien fools had thought it prudent to record his birth. Apparently, they had sensed something unusual coming. If they had felt a tingling of the skin, a chill rising up their spines; that wasn't fear they had been feeling. That was excitement, and Broly was feeling it right now. He was genuinely excited to engage this kid, as angry as he must have looked. Then again, Broly always looked like he was pissed off about something or another, not that this one knew that.

It must have been frightening. Blow up half a fucking forest, and then encounter a six foot five Saiyan, staring you down with tendrils of green energy rising off of his musculature.

WC: 822

"Boy! Did you cause that geyser of energy? Was that your inability, or your intent?"

The last thing Crono had been expecting to hear was a voice, all the way out here, in the middle of a smoldering ruin that had once served as a forest. Stifling a cough, he rose again to his feet. He spotted the source of the voice through the hazy smoke and floating ash.

He was a tall man, his body composed of chiseled muscle, like a one of the gods of legend. He had long black hair and seemed to be outfitted with gold jewelry and in outdated clothing.

Is that some sort of Halloween costume?

More alarming than his appearance, was his spiritual energy. Crono felt like he was being crushed by it. He could see it radiating from his body, as if this man had so much power that it simply seeped out of his pores.

I've felt this energy before, Crono thought to himself. The truth was, he had felt a lot of energy signatures out there. They seemed to fade in and out, like small glimpses here and there. His master had told him not to mind others, but sometimes feeling great powers made him curious. One thing was for sure, he wasn't alone. There were many others who had mastered the art of wielding their spiritual energy.

The crispy remnants of the meadow crunched beneath his boots as he crossed the clearing, facing the giant. Crono was relatively short, only coming to the bottom of his pectorals. Both of his azure eyes looked up at him.

“Oh this,” he said glancing to the left and right for a brief moment. He really didn't like looking at the destruction had caused, it was unsettling. “It was an unfortunate accident. I am a student of the Cat Hermit, Korin. My name is Crono. Who are you sir?”

WC: 317
TWC: 855

Crows flew overhead, their black bodies soaring through the sky as if investigating the commotion the child had caused. Grudgingly, Broly could not blame them. This boy was a walking curiosity, with his crimson hair and dangerous energy signature. Though Broly could not sense specifics, he could tell that the boy bore a great strength, one that was stronger than any other human on the planet. He blew Ryouji's energy out of the water, and he certainly topped Ace by miles. He was, quite possibly, the second strongest creature he had encountered here. That woman was obviously the strongest by far, but he had the feeling that he'd yet to experience every surprise the planet had to offer. However, he also knew that one man's heart could only take so much punishment. If he was shocked by more and more humans with such destructive power, his heart would have given out. It was already pounding inside of his skull, excited at the opportunity being presented to him by this bloody-haired youth.

Scrutinizing the boy, Broly had to wonder how such a large power was condensed into such a small package. The kid barely made it up to his chest, after all. He could probably fit both feet into a single one of the Legendary Warrior's boots, without even the slightest amount of difficulty. Tilting his head as if to better examine the speaking child, Broly absentmindedly listened to his words. He was more concerned with the secret of his power; what had allowed him to hold in such strength? Wouldn't a human burst, be filled to the brim with such incredible strength? He could hardly imagine containing all of his might in such a tiny vessel. Such a fragile one, at that. A simple car crash was enough to do most of their race in, so who was to say he wouldn't implode from his strength before Broly would? Shit, that purple haired one was starting to effect his thought processes.

"Sir?Pfft.", he laughed. No one had ever called him sir before, unless they were begging for their lives. This child was clearly doing nothing of the sort, and for that he was only moderately displeased. While it usually would have pissed him off to see someone so blatantly unafraid of him, this boy was a different case entirely. He was more interesting than he was infuriating, and that was a reasonable cause for Broly to permit his existence. It wasn't as though he felt he could end the child, no, he knew he'd have had his hands full. It was just that the kid's inability to control his might reminded him an awful lot of himself, and especially at such a young age. Well, actually, he could have been forty for all Broly knew. He knew so little about the Human aging cycle that it was insane. Did they end up with gray hair and wrinkles...?Or smooth skin and baby faces?

Either way, they all looked the same to him. It was hard for him to find the variation in anything but hair color.

"I am Broly, child. Your master must be ineffective, for you to tear away the countryside like you have. Care to show me what he's been teaching you, Earth-Boy?", his words were dripping with condescension and easily detectable anticipation. He was eager to see some kind of display of might from the child, no matter how destructive it may prove. It was simply that intriguing, and with the low frequency of intriguing events on the planet, he couldn't be very sure he would find such entertainment again.

WC: 614
TWC: 1,436

"I am Broly, child. Your master must be ineffective, for you to tear away the countryside like you have. Care to show me what he's been teaching you, Earth-Boy?"

Broly, Crono thought. He knew he would have to remember that name. This man was very powerful and from the sounds of it, an outsider. He had refered to Crono as “Earth-Boy.” Crono couldn't help but wonder if he was from another world. Perhaps he came from space? He had read stories about aliens, but never believed they existed. They were supposed to be short and green too, with big eyes. This guy didn't look anything like that, however.

Looks can be deceiving, his uncle had always told him. Do not trust your eyes. Trust your heart.

“Well Master Korin sent me down here to practice what he taught me. I just started training with him recently, so he hasn't had a lot of time to work with me. I'm trying to learn to control my spiritual energy. It gets kind of out of control sometimes,” he said and pointed to the ashen wasteland around him. “My uncle and Master Korin make it look so easy. It's hard for me, I don't want to practice it because if I make a mistake it blows everything up.”

Crono took a few steps back, never turing his back Broly. He fiddled with the hilt of his katana and slid into a stance. He felt uneasy attacking this man at random, but at the same time, from the power he was emitting, he didn't think he would hurt him too much. Maybe it would be a good exercise to face an opponent. Sparring was supposed

“I suppose I can show you a few of the moves I've learned,” Crono said.

Since he was not sure how skilled his opponent was, Crono decided to start it off simple. There was no point in pulling off his best techniques on someone on his first go.

He vanished, leaving behind nothing more than a swirl of ash from the displaced air. When he re-appeared he was directly above Broly and came down with a heel strike aimed at the top of his right shoulder. Hurling himself forward, he did a front flip, facing the big warrior directly. With his other leg, he brought it around in a heavy sweeping kick aimed at Broly's lower torso, hopefully with enough force to send him flying.

---

Actions:

1) Flight + Speed Burst + Strike - +12 FP
2) Flight + Rush Attack - +6 FP

WC: 430
TWC: 1,285

"Let us begin, then child."

Broly thought he was watching intently as the child vanished. Apparently, he hadn't been watching intently enough. The boy faded from view directly before his eyes, his stance markedly formal. It was clear he had been trained in some form of martial arts, like most of the fighters on this planet. Broly, happened to be the exact opposite. He was never trained in the ways of Martial Arts, nor had he ever been taught a formal fighting style. He just fought the only way he knew how; a feral style that made use of his incredible strength and agility. Some thought it made him unpredictable, but he knew there really was a predictability behind it. One could only get so far based on instinct, as it happened. This boy though, he seemed to be a living surprise factory. Not many warriors managed to evade Broly's eyes anymore. Shit, if he hadn't acquired a knowledge of his blind spots, he would have been totally in the dark toward any type of assault coming his way.

The boy was short. It was natural he would strike from above; after all, who would expect it? Broly would, as it appeared. His head cocked back, turning upward to face the child who was now descending upon him with, somehow, no ill intent. Gasping out of instinct, the warrior did his best to evade the blow. His body slid to the left, fading from view for the briefest moment. At least, it appeared that way. In reality, they were both moving too quickly to be seen by the normal eye; the kid wouldn't likely lose track of him that way, as he appeared to be far faster than Broly could have ever been. The leg still made contact with it's target, the larger fighter's shoulder. Gritting his teeth to avoid making a sound, Broly stepped backward as the crimson haired one flipped over his shoulder, body twirling through the air like he was some sort of god damned acrobat.

Though he had to admire the boy's agility, he was not very impressed by his physical power. The attack had been staggering by the average man's standards, and would have likely pounded a child into dust. Broly however, was far stronger than the average man. He kept this in mind as the youth advanced upon him directly, no plan in mind. His hands were still at his waist, open palmed so that he could move more freely. He wouldn't get anywhere by trying to stand up and fight with this child. The kid would run circles around him before he could react, unless he played things off properly. He would need near perfect timing, something only his spur of the moment mind could bring him. It was times like this that he wished he possessed some kind of tactical genius; some type of mental ability that allowed him clarity in even the most stressful of moments. He may have applied it here, for example.

The kid's body entered his guard, too low for any type of intervening action. As he saw the boy's leg begin to move, he reacted as quickly as possible. The strike was heading toward his center of balance; so he would let it slam into him. He flexed all of the muscles in his lower body, hashing his legs in the direction the kid wanted him to go sliding. Utilizing his superior body strength brought out the energy within him, forcing the tendrils of energy to react more violently as the boy's leg slammed hard into his lower-upper body. He slid an inch, but reacted in a way that he hoped the boy would not see coming. Utilizing the hand (which he had barely been able to pull back in time) that had been at his waist area, the elder fighter reached out at the boy's withdrawing leg, his body thrusting forward as energy exploded free of his body. To the average eye, he would appear to be little but a blur, his body moving at top speed. He was intent on catching this annoying child.

Not that he was pissing him off on purpose, but the point still stood.

Ash was being kicked up in his wake, shooting into the air as if water displaced by a jet ski. It wasn't like the boy's graceful swirl, it was it's own form. A marker of his wild nature, unrefined style and reckless abandon. Broly was of a different mold from this child; where he was even tempered, friendly, Broly was easily enraged and ready to engage. Though, it wasn't his fault. Some would blame it on his parentage; after all, trying to murder your son several times did not make him a very happy camper. Well, unless he was some kind of sick bastard or something, but Broly liked to picture himself as relatively sane. By Saiyan Standards, anyway.

With his other hand, he cocked a fully loaded fist of energy. Regardless of whether or not he managed to grab hold of the child, he would hopefully catch him with his other hand. Holding it back as he dove forward originally, he prepared to soar even further forward with his second attempt at connecting with his opponent. The adrenaline flowing through his veins allowed him the chance to move optimally, while temporarily ignoring the pain from the youth's blows. He knew that he would feel it later, however. It wouldn't bruise or anything, but it would certainly leave an area of tender (as tender as Broly could be, at any rate) skin. After all, it had contained enough force to shatter a grown man's bones. Unfortunately for the child, this punch he had prepared contained more force. That was probably the secret behind the elder fighter's still growing smile. Or was it a menacing smirk? With Broly's personality, it was hard to tell. Then again, not many people grinned innocently with the intent to smash someone's fuckin' face in.

His right hand came out in a round house-like punch as he emerged from his sudden burst of speed, with the energy dripping free marking it as a rapidly ticking time bomb. As soon as it made impact, it would detonate with a flash of emerald energy and power. It was designed to make use of both his power and his energy to yield a high-power strike, that was lethal on several different levels.

WC: 1,079
TWC: 2,515

Sub Actions:
Take Blow (Strike 1)
Take Blow (Strike 2)

Actions:
1. Power Up (+30% Strength and Ki): + 12 FP
2. Speed Burst (+35% Agility) + Grapple Attempt: 18 FP
3. Flight + Surging Punch: 31 FP (+10% Strength)

Total FP Gain: 51
Total Stat Boosts for this turn: +40% Strength (Power Up + Surging Punch),+35% Agility (Speed Burst/Action 2) +30% Ki

Crono was baffled, to say the least.He is smiling? Maybe he's one of those psycho serial killers you see in the movies, he thought to himself as he withdrew his leg after his final kick had landed.

He knew by the slight throbbing in his own legs, that the kicks had hurt Broly, but he could also see that the strange warrior was relishing it. Maybe it was the thrill of a challenge? Crono certainly hoped so. It would be weird to fight someone who became happy from being kicked.

Broly's hand grabbed Crono's leg; it was like a giant sea monster grabbing a helpless victim to pull them beneath the depths in a horror movie. Crono could feel the beefy fingers digging into the muscle of his calf, and he knew right off the bat that it would easily leave a deep bruise. Before he wriggle free of the grip, he was hit by a sledge hammer. Stunned by the feeling that his chest was caving in, Crono realized that it had not been a sledge hammer, merely the man's fist. The flare of green energy coming off of it did not bode well either, as the pain was about to get even worse.

At the apex of the punch, it exploded into a plume of emerald light so bright that it nearly blinded the young teen. He felt himself hurtling through the air and streamers of smoke spiraled off of his form. Eventually, gravity did its dirty work and he collided with the ground, proceeding to skip across the ashen wasteland like a stone across a pond.

Had he been a normal teen, Crono would have most likely have been dead. If not dead, then KO'd. Instead, he clamored to his feet. Both of his legs were a bit shaky, but he was able to stabilize himself after a second.

“An exploding punch?” he said as he dusted off his clothes. “I didn't know you could do that. I have to learn that one.”

His uncle had taught him that there were three ways to utilize one's spirit energy. The art of reinforcement (making one's body stronger through use,) projection (energy blasts and the like,) and manipulation. The art of manipulation was unlike the first two. While Crono had struggled with projection, he had mastered reinforcement and was decent with manipulation. Sure, he couldn't shoot a blast or make his punches explode, but he had something else up his sleeve that he doubted Broly would see coming.

With a roar, he dashed across the smoldering plain, kicking up a cloud of ash in his wake. He charged straight at Broly, not stopping, not slowing down. If anything, he increased his running speed as he neared. At the last second, he projected an illusion of himself making a head on strike, a full bore punch aimed at Broly's face. The illusion would surely pass through Broly, like a ghost. However, in reality, he had vanished from sight and was coming down on Broly's right flank with a hammer blow aimed at his jaw.

Within range now, he proceeded to turn his attack into an onslaught. He started throwing punches as fast as he could, his arms moving so fast they were a mere blur. With Broly being such a big target, he focused the rain of punches on his upper body, attempting to riddle the face and chest. He wasn't as strong as Broly, but he knew if he were persistent enough and did enough damage, he might bring the giant down.

After the hopeful peppering, he jumped back, landing on the ground. He resumed his stance and waited for the next round, which he knew was surely coming.

Actions:

-Take hit Action #2
1) Flight + Illusion Attack + Rush Attack - +18 FP
2) Flight + Machine Gun Fist (Rank 2) - +32 FP
3) Flight + Machine Gun Fist (Rank 2) - +32 FP

161 FP gained total.

WC: 660
TWC: 1,945

Broly disregarded the boy's words. He doubted he'd actually go through the trouble of learning a technique, just because he'd seen someone use it in battle. It was enough to make him scoff, honestly. The boy was relatively amusing, to say the least. He couldn't lie to himself in that respect, but it wasn't as though he was amusing in a good way. Had he been a nice, respectful old man, he'd have enjoyed the hell out of the child's company. However, as things stood: Broly was anything but a nice respectful old man. He was more of the, "I'm a violent old bastard", archetype. At least, so people told him before he proceeded to curb stomp their skulls. Then again, he didn't usually pay much mind to the common place rabble he destroyed daily. So, was their opinion really all that trustworthy? Forgoing the fact that he tended to disregard the opinions of others in the first place, he doubted the opinion of the dying mattered very much anyway.

The boy's voice rose over the breeze, as he came flying toward the Legendary Warrior. His speed was, once again, impressive. There was no way Broly could have caught him on a straight away, but when he was coming right at him? It was like child's play. Or so it should have been; something about this child made him seem like he was far more than met the eye. Was it the dazzling speed, the distinctive style he carried himself with? Whatever the hell it was, Broly was not very pleased by the fact that he was coming directly at him. Then again, he'd come at him directly before, only to dive away in a sudden feint. That alone was enough to put him on guard. Not physically, of course. He wouldn't bother with such a formal thing as an actual stance; it was just a fancy way of positioning your body. He doubted it really effected the battle very much. After all, standing like a special ed child did little to help anyone.

Still, he did raise a forearm to distance himself from the youth as he closed the gap between them. He didn't want to leave the chance of a lucky blow open, otherwise he would risk being rocked by a fighter who was weaker than him. Or rather, weaker physically. The boy's destructive energy was a monument to the conditional superiority Broly held, though he would never admit it aloud. As the boy's image slid through his guard, Broly felt his head recoil. Not from the force of a blow, but from the pure shock. That had been one hell of a feint, the boy had managed to goad him into. Blinking and releasing a blast of breath from his nose, he was subsequently caught unaware by the hammer blow. Spittle flew free of his lips as he felt his body stumble to the side, his feet tripping over one another as the blow was followed through with. He was obviously capable of putting his strength into an attack, when the situation required it. However, that had been an attack with both hands. It wasn't as though he had been able to apply such force into every blow.

He turned his head to respond, his arm cocking back at his waist as if readying for a response. Unfortunately, the boy was ready for him. Broly's arms raised just in time to avoid an onslaught of machine gun-like madness. Instead of using them to retaliate, he brought them up over his chest and face, trying to protect his body from such a dangerous barrage. The boy's strength was easily apparent now and it was no longer anything he could ignore. He couldn't tell if the child was just thriving off of the moment, or if he was naturally this powerful all along, but it was certainly starting to piss him off. Like many things that pissed him off, Broly could only endure their presence for a few seconds at the most. He was already growing tired of this child, as interesting as he was. Broly did not enjoy being beaten upon, regardless of how likely he was to be hit. With this child, that likelihood was very high. Blows were still managing to slip through his block, sliding in around his arms.

Each one that made contact stung and hurt, forcing blood to drip from his teeth and lips as more and more made contact with his jawline. He had to give it to the child; he knew how to throw a punch. Broly could feel the rush of energy he'd had before fading was the barrage continued, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the child stopped. The tendrils of energy that had been rising from his chest earlier now began to siphon his energy toward the fighter's hand, slowly concentrating to form a solid-enough line of ki energy. It extended freely from his fist for several inches, effectively forming a blade of emerald light that seemed far less lethal than it actually was. In reality, it was capable of severing limbs without much difficulty, but unless it connected cleanly, there wasn't much danger to be had. At worst, a passing touch from the blade would only leave a cut or a wound. However, a stab to the bowels? Yeah. That'd be fatal.

Broly dropped his block as Crono's first assault subsided. At first, he would manage to do some damage before another attack came. However, as he saw the boy's fist cocking back once more, he knew he'd made a dangerous mistake. He was forced to grit his teeth and tense his muscles as the onslaught was renewed, each stinging blow tagging deep into his chest and jaw. The boy was a capable opponent, certainly. He was capable of devastating melee strikes, and blinding speeds that Broly knew he was nowhere near as proficient at providing. However, was he lethal? Many warriors were strong, many warriors were dangerous. But were they capable of killing a man, of applying lethal force without remorse? Judging from the way the boy was striking, it appeared that he was not fighting with an intent to kill. Hopefully, that would prove to be as dangerous a mistake as Broly's own.

As the cutting punches subsided, Broly pushed his body forward, following the retreating child back. If he managed to hustle, he would strike before he was ready to defend himself. If he failed to hustle, he may at least have gotten lucky and landed a lethal blow. However, Broly was not one to fail to hustle; he was a firm believer in the motto, "Good things come to those who wait; namely, what's left behind by those who hustle". Here it was displayed perfectly in his actions, which he did his damnedest not to waste. He was trying to beat the boy within an inch of his life, if not end it. He wasn't going to be striking out with the intent to make him feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, unless that was a result of internal bleeding. Even then, the feeling wasn't intentional. It wasn't as though Broly had ever experienced internal bleeding before.

Nor was he eager to. This boy however, may well have ended up with such an affliction. Broly's arm jabbed out, striking toward his opponent with lethal intent. The blade of energy sizzled as it cut through the air, an ominous sign of he boy's possible fate. Should the blade connect, it would have at least left a scratch upon the boy's skin. That was all Broly was looking for; to draw blood from his opponent, to incite any sort of panic. He thrived on it, lived in it. The men who died at his feet were the men who broke down mid battle, the men who were too weak minded to man up and face him. Hell, even those who faced him and tried to stand their ground were often swept away in the endless tide that was his power. It wasn't that they had been unable, it was just that he had been more than apt to sentence them to an early grave.

"Try this, child!", the warrior's words left his mouth before he could consider them, as he struck again through the air, with the hopes of brutally maiming the child before him.

WC: 1,410
TWC: 3,925

Sub Actions:
Take Hit (Action 1)
Take Hit (Action 3)

Actions:
1. Block @ Action 2: + 16 FP
2. Flight + Ki Blade + Strike: + 13 FP
3. Ki Blade Strike: + 13 FP

Total FP Gain: 42 FP
No stat boosts this turn.

Crono's hands throbbed with pain. There was no waiting for Broly to make his move, he was already in mid lunge. The young warrior he could feel the shaking in his body. From the release of his ki energy and his last barrage of punches, he had used up a lot of his spiritual energy. It wouldn't be long before he was fully fatigued and he feared that after that point he would be ripe for the slaughter.

The malice in Broly's eyes was evident of the punishment he was hoping to mete on Crono. The red-haired teen braced himself, but wasn't sure what to make of the sizzling protrusion of emerald spiritual energy coming off of his hand. It was flat, almost like a blade; the longer he looked at it the more he feared that it was, in fact, some sort of energy sword.

Could he stop such an attack? No, dodging seemed like the only option. If it were a blade, it would tear through his flesh like knife through a soft loaf of bread.

And it did. Crono couldn't have reacted any slower. Despite how quick the mind worked, he was still in lingering thought, trying to decide what action to take, when the energy blade carved into his left bicep and cut across his chest. It left a small groove in his right bicep as he spun away, preventing the loss of that entire arm.

The pain wasn't there. Well, not the way he imagined it to be. It was a sort of deep tissue pain, a dull sensation that let him know that damage had been done. That was okay, at least he wasn't bleeding out. Most likely because the heat off of the energy blade had cauterized the wound immediately. He had gotten lucky, very lucky, that is. Had he not started to move out of the way, the blade would have cut him in two pieces.

Despite the fact that he had almost died, he couldn't let it slow him down. Broly was already bringing his arm up for a second slash, and this time he couldn't be caught contemplating on what he should do. He needed to act; now.

The thought that dawned upon him was a lesson his uncle had taught him during the early stages of his training. There were certain points, places rather, where the spiritual energy pooled within the body. If they were hit hard enough it could disrupt the flow.

Crono was already close to Broly, well within striking range, even for his much shorter limbs. He quickly pressed his fingers against his thumbs, forming his hand into something resembling a snake head rather than a fist. Lashing out with all the speed his tired body could muster, he sent four jabs to pressure points on Broly's arm and back. They weren't just ordinary strikes. The young teen packed as much spiritual energy as he could into the tips of the fingers, without risking another explosion that is. Someone with Broly's size and strength would require a full effort if he wanted his attack to work. If successful, the technique would easily make the energy blade sputter out and save Crono from being split in two.

He kept moving forward, sending out a pulse of energy to launch himself up and out of melee range, fearing that perhaps another slash might be coming his way. He twisted around in mid-air and came to a grinding halt behind Broly, kicking up a wash of ash and coals.

The red haired teen was clearly gasping for air, fatigue starting to set in. He took a small respite to catch his breath and calm his shaking body.

“I think I've shown you enough for one day,” he said, glancing down to the blackened line across his torso. “It seems you've shown me a bit more than I've shown you. It was an honor to spar a warrior of your caliber. But, I do not wish to take this any further than I have to. Master Korin is awaiting my return.”

Actions:

-Take hit; action #2.
1) Pressure Points to stop Action #2. - +18 FP

-End Spar?

179 FP gained total.

WC: 677
TWC: 2,622

Broly's blade fizzled out in the air, as Crono swung around behind him. The warrior watched calmly as his blade fizzled out in the air, his wrist suddenly hanging limp. Actually, his entire arm seemed to go limp. It slowly fell to his side, energy leaving it entirely. He wasn't foolish enough to try and move it; he had dealt with similar tactics before. However, he was displeased with allowing himself to be carried away. Perhaps this child needed more evaluation, some more checking into before he attempted to remove life from him entirely. The kid was certainly strong enough to survive an assault by the Legendary Super Saiyan, but that wasn't always enough to garner his long term survival. Broly was only weaker over all at the moment, and with his strength growing with every passing day...Well, who knew where they would stand in a week? Letting his arm hang limp at his side, Broly did his best to stand straight up, a task that proved more difficult than originally intended.

Apparently, the child had also peppered his back with those fancy jabs. He snorted briefly, turning his body to face the young warrior, who was now speaking directly to him. Broly found himself lost to the boy's words, focusing now on a separate train of thought. He had been lost after the word 'spar'; the boy had thought this a friendly battle? That was interesting. Had he been going all out, then? If not, it appeared he had even more to offer Broly than originally assumed. Narrowing his eyes at the child in a way that made him seem just as serious as he really was, Broly relaxed his fists. He would try to send this child to hell another day. Something about this boy seemed wrong; he had complimented the warrior. That was not something that happened every day, but it did little to alter his perspective on Humanity itself. This child was commending his skill, and yet it sounded more like a warning at the same time. The words hung in his head briefly, as he considered them: 'You've shown me more than I've shown you'. Did that mean he had more to reveal?

"We will need to continue with this...Another time, human. Perhaps you can show me what you've held in."

He could only assume that the boy was hiding his strength; from what he had seen however, it wasn't too far fetched. The boy could have likely tried to finish him with that feint from earlier, taking advantage of his speed to try to shove his fist through the warrior's lower back. Briefly turning his dark eyes to the crimson haired child's hands, he wondered about the true strength inside of them. What burdens did he bear, that his fists were so powerful? Broly bore the burdens of a failed childhood, a life of violence and war. He'd seen things that would drive a man to the breaking point; he'd seen men beg for their lives. He'd seen them offer everything they had, as if it would help them survive somehow. The truth was, Broly didn't care for material things or the like. All he cared for was power and might, something this boy seemed to possess in fine quality. However, he didn't want to treasure or enhance this child's power.

He wanted to compare it to his own, to see what could be done with it. Broly was after all, one of the more curious of his kind. One could have called him "Curious Broly", like the monkey. Only about a million times more deadly.

WC: 602
TWC: 4,527