[DRABBLE]
Player: roll_soul/kuna_emie
Subject: Bass
Table: C [ Prompt Table]
Prompt: 22. Rhythm
People always say that cities, the really big cities, had their own rhythm. That there was an underlying beat, some magically matching mixture of traffic, footsteps, and the general pulse of society. This is true: just go to any large city and listen, really listen, and you'll hear it.
What's generally less well known is that battles have their own rhythm. Oh sure, certain fighting styles (especially those from Asia) had their own cadence, moving more like a dance than a fight. But even a street brawl has its own beat, and Bass was attuned to this very well. It came with being built for battle, for the game; hell, it came with being made to be the best. If he couldn't seek out the given tempo of a fight there was no way he'd win.
He stepped back, shifting his weight up into his shoulders so he dropped back, rolling away from a punch thrown by his opponent, another robot who was training like he was for an upcoming "underground" tournament. Bass's hands went to the ground, becoming support for the rest of his body as he snapped his legs up and kangaroo kicked the other robot away, sending him flying across the sandlot.
Punch. Kick. Slam. It all lent itself to the grand rhythm of the fight. They struck his nerves, resounding in his very core and giving him an edge over others that fought wildly and hoped to land a hit. It was times like this where his name was oddly appropriate, because just like a battle, the bass beat of music is visceral, beating out from your very center, supporting the music and giving it its life.
Bass twisted around to dodge another hit, smirking slightly and bringing his elbow up into the robot's chin. His opponent took a beat too long to recover and was sent to the ground again by an expertly placed kick. When he didn't get back up, Bass grinned and breathed out, turning and walking away.
His footsteps sounded loudly against the asphalt thanks to his armor, adding to the rhythm of the city around him as that of the battle faded away.
Subject: Bass
Table: C [ Prompt Table]
Prompt: 22. Rhythm
People always say that cities, the really big cities, had their own rhythm. That there was an underlying beat, some magically matching mixture of traffic, footsteps, and the general pulse of society. This is true: just go to any large city and listen, really listen, and you'll hear it.
What's generally less well known is that battles have their own rhythm. Oh sure, certain fighting styles (especially those from Asia) had their own cadence, moving more like a dance than a fight. But even a street brawl has its own beat, and Bass was attuned to this very well. It came with being built for battle, for the game; hell, it came with being made to be the best. If he couldn't seek out the given tempo of a fight there was no way he'd win.
He stepped back, shifting his weight up into his shoulders so he dropped back, rolling away from a punch thrown by his opponent, another robot who was training like he was for an upcoming "underground" tournament. Bass's hands went to the ground, becoming support for the rest of his body as he snapped his legs up and kangaroo kicked the other robot away, sending him flying across the sandlot.
Punch. Kick. Slam. It all lent itself to the grand rhythm of the fight. They struck his nerves, resounding in his very core and giving him an edge over others that fought wildly and hoped to land a hit. It was times like this where his name was oddly appropriate, because just like a battle, the bass beat of music is visceral, beating out from your very center, supporting the music and giving it its life.
Bass twisted around to dodge another hit, smirking slightly and bringing his elbow up into the robot's chin. His opponent took a beat too long to recover and was sent to the ground again by an expertly placed kick. When he didn't get back up, Bass grinned and breathed out, turning and walking away.
His footsteps sounded loudly against the asphalt thanks to his armor, adding to the rhythm of the city around him as that of the battle faded away.