tampered | log; in progress

When; Friday, October 10th, late morning or early afternoon.
Rating; PG for now.
Characters; Sakurazuka Seishirou (

sakurazuka_san) and Clow Reed (

i_themagician)
Summary; In one of the first duels of the tournament so far, Clow and Seishirou finally have the opportunity to test their skill against one another. Except, one of them would appear to be at a disadvantage...
Log;

Clow stalked into the center of the dusty arena, eyes on the ground lest there be something there he might trip over. Not that he could really see if there were, but he had a better chance if he were at least looking. Taking his place, he straightened up and looked about him at the strange and enormous unfocused mass that stood in for the rest of the world while he wasn't wearing his glasses. He had stopped just short of begging Lucy to return them but she would hear none of it, apparently not caring that he had a tournament to lose. Yes, you'd think that whatever he had done to get that far in the doghouse with her would have been interesting, but he honestly couldn't remember anything in particular. Pity, that.

Fingering his staff, he waited to feel the presence of his opponent in the arena - soon, now. Even if blinded, the magician did his best to maintain his composure. He managed to only look tense and not nervous or distraught as one might expect to feel in his position. Even as he creased his brows and gave a long sigh, he gave little away.

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It was predetermined - a simple note had informed him that, indeed, there was to be a battle between a spiritualist and a mystic. Well, someone had once said something about a preordained fate, and that was only something he took in stride. Really, predetermination wasn't all it was cracked up to be... perhaps, though, he could make an exception for this instance. At the least, it proved to be an interesting trial.

What seemed to be an anachronism, one small pink petal, floated first into the arena before Clow - close enough that he could see it even in his state. The fool had foregone the glasses... no, he had seen the chain of events. Someone else had them in her possession, and he would have to show some appreciation for this serendipitous handicap. The drizzle, then rain, then downpour of those petals eventually followed, and before long, the black and white appeared. There he stood, moments later, surveying the apparent prey that had been cast in his direction. The mighty Clow Reed - yes, he had heard tales of the man. The prowess, though... well, he could finally explore that.

"Missing something?" came the drawl. An ever-present chuckle followed, and, if the other could see it, he flashed a pleasant smile to his "opponent". He couldn't properly call him that yet; he'd have to prove his worth. "I hope your vision isn't too impaired."

Clow had to make a small effort not to smile. "How astute of you to notice," was all he said before he raised his staff, gripping it tightly - but not to attack. No, not yet. He regarded his opponent with pale, unfocused eyes.

I know this game. You will goad me into making the first move, and he knew this because the vision, nay, the very idea of Seishirou attacking first just didn't come to him. You want it to be my own hand that initiates my failure.

"Get on with it, then."

"What, no friendly greeting...?" There was no absence of that mocking drawl in his voice, and the smile seemed unwilling to fade soon. Oh, of course he'd prod, poke, even coax... it simply was the less inelegant method. Anything cruder, and the effect just wouldn't be the same. The victory would be spoiled, like a fine day spoiled by far too many clouds. Wasn't it sad how some needed more than others?

And Clow, obviously, was the sort that was far above the average.

He could hear the rumble of the audience. A sound of displeasure tinged the entire sound, but it wasn't of importance. A cigarette first. One in his hand, and already he was feeling the urge for some entertainment. Well, that would come with time. If two were determined to lie in the grass, eyeing each other warily, eventually one would lash out. It would simply be base to be the one to attack first. Lack of control - that was the goal.

"I'm rather disappointed," he continued, the drawl seemingly more pronounced. One sly look, and he brought his lighter out. "It's too much to ask for a familiar salutation, is it?" Metallic clink, friction of a spark wheel, and then he was lighting his cigarette. Wait for it.

"Oh." Seishirou would have to try much, much better than that. Clow was making it easy for him, having come to the fight pre-irritated for the other man's convenience, but the difference was only slight. Where normally he might have given Sei a slight, condescending smile he only looked down his nose at the man - or, at least, in his general direction - and resolved to placate him just to get him to shut up and get on with the duel. "Forgive me; I seem to have forgotten my manners. Seishirou Sakurazuka, it is an honor~."

An elaborate and overly formal bow follows - you know, the English sort with all the hand-twirling and whatever. Yes, he's going that extra mile just for you, Seishirou. It would probably be easier just to grab his staff and try to knock him out with it while his head is down.

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