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(+2)

My Opening Move

The arena falls silent as I step in, wielding my pen like a sword. “Nevernotny,” I say with a calm confidence, “prepare yourself. I don’t just fight to win—I fight to dominate.” With a flourish, I draw a circle in the dirt, signaling the start of the battle. The crowd erupts into cheers.

I leap forward, my pen slashing through the air. It’s not just ink—it’s strategy, precision, and power. I aim for a clever feint, forcing nevernotny to react, then twist my weapon to deliver a surprise strike.

Thoughts on nevernotny (My Opponent)

nevernotny is no slouch, and I respect them for stepping into the ring with me.

  • They’ve got this resilience about them, like they’ll keep fighting no matter what, which makes them a worthy opponent.
  • They also have sharp instincts—you can tell they’re always thinking two moves ahead, ready to exploit any weakness in their opponent's strategy.
  • Plus, they’ve got style. Even when under pressure, they find a way to add flair to their moves. It’s going to be a challenge to match wits and skill with someone like them, but I’m ready.

LETS DO THIS!!

(+3)

I twist out of the way at the last second, jumping back  smoothly to put space between me and my opponent, it's a calculated move, giving me time to access my adversary, "Hasna2009," I state, my eyes narrowing, "Your drive is admirable, but mine is for love, you will not push me down, and I will win, if not for myself than for what I fight for,"

I raise my erasable pen, pointing it at them, the tip aimed at their chest, beckoning them closer, "I am prepared to win," it's taunt, a move to access them, how they react will dictate the rest of the battle. 

Thoughts on Hasna2009

They are calm, but cocky, they have an intelligence I must be wary of. I must keep my hand hidden and my cards right.

  • They nearly caught me off guard, they surprise strike could've hurt if I didn't dodge
  • They are a strategist, they have a calculated intelligence which could become bothersome
  • They focus more on power than appearance, admirable, smart

"Let us dance." 

The crowd holds its breath as nevernotny’s words echo through the arena, their erasable pen raised in defiance. I take a measured step forward, my smirk unwavering as I meet their narrowed gaze, something about the fire in their eyes making my heart skip—just for a moment.

"Love, you say?" I reply, my voice steady but tinged with challenge. "Admirable indeed. But love without victory is nothing but a dream unfulfilled. And I…" I twirl my pen effortlessly in my hand, the motion smooth as silk, "…I don’t dream—I act."

My stance shifts slightly, calculated and deliberate. I study the way their pen points toward me, a test, a taunt. I answer with one of my own. Slowly, I draw an elegant line in the air with my pen, the ink glowing faintly like the stroke of a brush. My eyes lock with theirs, unyielding yet carrying the barest flicker of something softer, something I quickly suppress.

"If you think you can dictate the rhythm of this dance, you’ve underestimated me."

I lunge forward, closing the space between us with unexpected speed. My pen slashes downward in a feint, but it’s my follow-up move that matters—I pivot to the side, aiming a precise jab toward their flank, an attack that’s sharp yet light, designed not to harm but to test their reflexes and resolve. As I pass close enough, I catch a hint of their determination—a presence that’s both infuriating and, dare I admit, intriguing.

"Show me," I challenge, my tone daring and edged with amusement. "Show me how far love can carry you."

The crowd erupts once more, their cheers ringing through the arena as the tension between us crackles like electricity. My smirk deepens, and for a fleeting second, I wonder if I want them to win more than I care to admit—or if I just want to see how much further this can go.

(+1)

I turn at the last second, dodging the flank attack, as much as it merely brushes against me. I assess them up and down, chuckling, “You are a man of actions, but actions can not exist without the dreams. For the dream show what we could do, actions show what we did.” I finally prepare myself for a strike twirling my own pen in my hands

“A dance is a push and pull, give and take,” I wave my pen in the air, the ink spreads across the air like a silken magic, a distraction, an illusion, obscuring my appearance for as I continue. “And I am prepared to take everything, and give it all for love. I will show you. How love can destroy, create, how it can make or break. Because love is a dance,”

Finally I appear, a side attack my pen aimed at their chest cavity, “Though you may not think it, I am the one leading,”

The crowd  roads, on the edge of their seats, preparing, waiting watching, wondering. Can Hasna2009 escape the deceptive attack? Or will they take the blunt of the force head on…

The crowd holds its breath as nevernotny’s words echo through the arena, their erasable pen raised in defiance. I take a measured step forward, my smirk unwavering as I meet their narrowed gaze.

"Love, you say?" I reply, my voice steady but tinged with challenge. "Admirable indeed. But love without victory is nothing but a dream unfulfilled. And I…" I twirl my pen effortlessly in my hand, the motion smooth as silk, "…I don’t dream—I act."

My stance shifts slightly, calculated and deliberate. I study the way their pen points toward me, a test, a taunt. I answer with one of my own. Slowly, I draw an elegant line in the air with my pen, the ink glowing faintly like the stroke of a brush. My eyes lock with theirs, unyielding.

"If you think you can dictate the rhythm of this dance, you’ve underestimated me."

I lunge forward, closing the space between us with unexpected speed. My pen slashes downward in a feint, but it’s my follow-up move that matters—I pivot to the side, aiming a precise jab toward their flank, an attack that’s sharp yet light, designed not to harm but to test their reflexes and resolve.

"Show me," I challenge, my tone daring and edged with amusement. "Show me how far love can carry you."

The crowd erupts once more, their cheers ringing through the arena as the tension between us crackles like electricity. The game has only just begun.

I point the pen directly at her, challenging, "You will see, prepare yourself," her eyes narrow, as she uncaps the pen, ready, she dodges the flank attack with ease, kicking back to through Hasna2009 off balance, again I prepare to strike, but as soon as it seems I am a about to strike I move backwards, creating distance.

"I do not underestimate you, I assess, and what I see is someone, who's going to lose," The pen dances across the air, a hypnotic display of ink shining like light, made to distract.

In the midst of the illusion I head at them straight on, a parrying attack, meant to surprise, to assess, to lessen her stamina, how will Hasna2009 hold up to this...

The crowd erupts as nevernotny’s attack grazes my side, but I recover quickly, spinning to face them with a smirk.

"You’re bold," I say, sweeping my pen in a wide arc to clear the shimmering ink. "But boldness alone won’t win this."

I step forward, closing the gap they created, each stroke of my pen deliberate, testing their defenses. My eyes lock with theirs, a flicker of admiration breaking through my focus.

"Let’s see how much further you can push me," I add, my voice calm but charged. The crowd roars, but all I hear is the rhythm of our battle as it rages on. Until i trip on the air and fall on the gorund i look up to see nevernotny..

I point my pen at her, directly over her heart, I smirk, "This, is how far love can take me." I muse, my guard up, no surprise attacks will best me, and I know that I have won.*

"It seems I pay have pushed you to far, however," I cock my head to the side and I muse, I press the tip of my pen to her chest, a warning, "I suggest you surrender now, or I will not be afraid to make you fall unconscious,"

"Choose carefully,"