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Flay Gunnar (Mana Khemia: Alchemists of Al-Revis) |
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Quickly! To the Flaypionship! Yes, dear viewers, the moment we have all waited for has arrived! With Flay Gunnar in the Middle Championship, it is a strike for truth and justice everywhere! By the look of his opponent, it is long overdue. Liars and cheaters shouldn't prosper! Flay will have to turn this poor, misguided youth around by force - and it IS necessary! Sure, Nash can throw around a status or two, but if Flay gets a turn and lays down a Bursting Star, it will be taking down Nash long after Flay may or may not have been statused! The judges will have fun with this one, but surely they will side with truth, justice and the Flay Gunnar way! |
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Finally, the big break! Nash Rumack, Vane's star student, bedazzled the opposition into oblivion and has reached the glorious finals! And this couldn't be any easier: Flay Gunnar, the Flayvor of Evil, may do quite a number with three stars, but he's clearly ill-equipped to handle Nash's array of deadly status ailments! Flay certainly can't stop them all, and just about any of them will make the match unwinnable for the young alchemist. Does he want to sleep forever? Lose his thunderous voice? Turn into a statue? Be plunged into confusion? Nash can provide that and more! All he needs is a fingersnap and the deadly magical words: "Special Delivery!" |
Taishyr "IMPOSSIBLE! ME?" Flay moaned, falling to his knees as Nash stood above him, laughing. "See? This is the price of your arrogance, Flay Gunnar! Now, see what your hubris has brought into this world!" Chris sat in the judging booth, watching with a near-bored out of her skull expression on her face. "Damnit, Geddoe, Hugo. You don't get to bail on this sort of thing and shaft me with it..." Then, a bit louder, glancing out the window of the booth, "Relm Arrowny, mind judging this match for us?" Turning the mike off, she muttered, "I'm going to go get a beer and beat and beat Griffin-Boy and Eyepatch up..." Relm sauntered down onto the arena floor, carefully examining the results of the match. "Well. Flay Gunnar's piece is... well. I don't know how to put this. It's atrocious. Something you'd see when a post-modernist belched." "Haha!" Nash laughed as Flay hung his head. Relm turned a critical eye to Nash. "Meanwhile, yours just looks like three spheres on top of each other. Ugly, but not as bad as Flay's. You win." "U... u... UGLY?!" Nash stuttered as Relm sauntered out, before shaking his head. "A... win's a win, I guess?" Flay Gunnar: 12 |
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