"Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome, Winter Frost." The announcer echoed, before the bright lights came on. The audience was in complete silence, the rumor's of Winter's piano skills unheard off.
The whole arena was sold out for the showing, not a single seat left unfilled.
On stage, the white suit shined against the light. His snow white hair combed down, his tie tight against his throat, and his shoes polished and pristine. Winter fiddled with his fingers for a moment, adjusting himself before running his fingers over the keys.
The smooth, perfect piano keys. He flashed a smile at the crowd before placing his fingers over the keys to his piano and beginning to play.
The steady notes seemed to roll off of his fingers, his eyes shut and his gentle smile showing. He let out a huff, a not to distant memory being recalled as he lost himself in the music...
He stood before the armor, the armor's rusted over steel chest plate and helmet heavily contracting with his own. His white vest, dark gray button up long sleeve.
His smooth white skin, his flowing snow hair. He reached his hand down towards his holster, his eyes locked with that of the armor's. The armored man grasped his massive claymore, pulling it out of the ground before it. The armored man arced his weapon back, before bringing it down in a powerful swing.
Winter rolled out of the way, his weapon drawn and spinning the wheel. He steadied his arm, closing his left eye. Several shots were fired, each bullet ricocheting off of his opponent's armor. He barred his teeth, the sentient armor swinging back around and bringing the sword in for a horizontal swing.
winter twirled the trigger guard around his finger, the barrel spinning and contorting into a small dagger's blade. He held it in defense, the blow hitting his blade and knocking him back.
He landed on his back, sliding across the chapel's floor a distance before jumping back onto his feet. He loosened his wrists, narrowing his eyes. He suspected his opponent to not be as durable, or as fast.
He flicked his wrist, the wheel popping out of it's action and unloading the empty shells onto the floor. He could hear all six shells bounce against the marble floor, ringing in his ears.
He reached behind his back, pulling a loader out of his back pocket and reloading the weapon. Flicking it back into place, he pulled down the hammer to fight once more.
He charged forward, unloading three of the weapon's wheel into the Armor's dominant arm. As the sentient armor swung low, Winter dropped to his knees as he ran. He began sliding underneath the armor, shooting several more times before jumping onto his knees.
He spun on his heels, the wheel popping out and the shells ejecting once more. He reached for another loader, only to have the Armored boot's toe hit him right in his cheek while he was vulnerable. The hit had sent him airborne. He flew back twenty feet away, trickles of his blood following and dripping onto the floor.
He fell onto his back once again, his left cheek bleeding profusely and running down his vest. He began to breath out slowly, his anger spiking.
He got back onto his feet, wiping away the blood with his free hand and reaching behind his back for his signature rounds. He pulled another loader, giving it a small kiss before loading it into his weapon.
As the shells entered, the inscriptions began to glow on his weapons. He smirked, charging the armor for round three. The armor swung his sword, Winter jumping onto the blade. He steadied his stance on the blade, his right hand extended and finger on the trigger.
Winter unloaded into the Armor's helmet, bursts of fire exiting the helmet. The armor was taken back, the small holes in the back of it's head dazing it for a moment.
Winter jumped off of the sword, jumping over the sentient armor. He shot several more times, bolts of lightening seemingly piercing the Armor's chest.
It stood there, convulsing as the bolts that held it together began to shoot off in random directions. Barely able to keep itself together, the Armor steadied itself before making another move.
Winter landed, loading another wheel. His left eye shut and his smile shining through his pain, he held the weapon at his hip. His left hand on the hammer, he let out a sharp breath.
He unloaded the newly filled wheel. five of the shots hitting the Armor in both of it's hands, both knees, and finally the head. The hands were pierced, the knees were blown away, and the forehead shot left a tiny hole.
Winter extended his left hand, slowly squeezing it tight. On command, the armor was hoisted into the air, before stretched out and held in place.
Winter took aim with his weapon, steadying his stance for the last shot. his left hand holding the wrist of his right. He squeezed the trigger, the weapon's muzzle glowing and beginning to shine. He smirked in delight, as he let go of the trigger and the shot blew out his ear drums.
The Armor's chest combusted on impact, the remaining bits of armor falling beside the rubble. Winter looked down at his fallen adversary, letting out a huff.
He lost himself for a moment, the song finally finished and the crowd cheering for an encore play. On instinct, he got off of his seat, smiled brightly at his lovely audience, and bowed out of respect. Then proceeded to give them the encore they were desperate to see.
Winter Frost, 17. White.