[Suddenly the air before them blurs-- quite literally blurs, because without his armor Chariot is impossible to track. A streak of silver, that's all he is, blade flashing as he tears into the tree. His precision is a little off, he can't be nearly so exact when he's moving so fast-- but nor is it a sloppy effort. Polnareff watches, a flush on his cheeks-- it's hard, exerting Chariot like this, he doesn't usually make him move so fast because it's tiring-- but he's beyond pleased.
But if Chariot is a force of speed-- and he is, undoubtedly so-- so is Sticky Fingers. When Polnareff manages to tear his gaze away from his Stand, he notes in surprise he's not that much in the lead. Bruno's Stand is more than just quick; he's nearly as fast as Chariot, and suddenly Polnareff wonders if he's going to win at all.
--no, he's definitely going to. It's Silver Chariot-- his claim to fame is speed, and he's not about to be ousted by some Italian punk who thinks too highly of his user. Polnareff grins as his tree falls-- it's just a few seconds ahead of Sticky Fingers, but a few seconds are all he needs.]
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One-- two-- three!
[Suddenly the air before them blurs-- quite literally blurs, because without his armor Chariot is impossible to track. A streak of silver, that's all he is, blade flashing as he tears into the tree. His precision is a little off, he can't be nearly so exact when he's moving so fast-- but nor is it a sloppy effort. Polnareff watches, a flush on his cheeks-- it's hard, exerting Chariot like this, he doesn't usually make him move so fast because it's tiring-- but he's beyond pleased.
But if Chariot is a force of speed-- and he is, undoubtedly so-- so is Sticky Fingers. When Polnareff manages to tear his gaze away from his Stand, he notes in surprise he's not that much in the lead. Bruno's Stand is more than just quick; he's nearly as fast as Chariot, and suddenly Polnareff wonders if he's going to win at all.
--no, he's definitely going to. It's Silver Chariot-- his claim to fame is speed, and he's not about to be ousted by some Italian punk who thinks too highly of his user. Polnareff grins as his tree falls-- it's just a few seconds ahead of Sticky Fingers, but a few seconds are all he needs.]