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Post by {WW}BetaBloodWolf7 on Sept 12, 2010 3:12:46 GMT -5
The noise, the stench of the creature that was now behind him. The swordsman was no longer important.
Mr. Rabbit spun the spear and slammed it against the swordsman's blade. He heard a grunt escape from the swordsman and slammed the spear into the sword again, knocking it to the ground. The swordsman leaped back as Mr. Rabbit attempted a quick jab at his stomach, narrowly avoiding the blade. Mr. Rabbit began spinning the spear again, quickly lashing out at the swordsman, who was now only dodging the attacks but only barely so.
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Post by Shrouded Wolf on Sept 12, 2010 23:26:30 GMT -5
Charles' blood felt like it was approaching boiling point as he was approaching closer and closer towards a fighting frenzy. As he landed on the ground, after his attack missed, he felt a little disappointed and as the swordman's attack left a fairly large cut in his left sleeve, spilling a small amount of blood on his clothes, which simply pissed him off more. Ashura was ready for the battle to cotinue already as flames were blazing out at what seemed to be uncontrollable levels, charring some of the leaves on a nearby shrub.
For a bare moment he stopped with his eyes closed, quietly asking Ashura to release more of its power. He held the blade straight out towards the swordsman and Mr. Rabbit, which caused a small tornado of fire to fly out towards the two and dissipate into thin air right before reaching them.
He quietly muttered to himself, "Hope that guy over there doesn't become a big stew after this is all done and over with." With that, he looked at his sword and the edge of the blade was literally on fire, with the flames turning a darker shade of yellow, orange, and red.
Charles grinned as he went for another attack, this time around, screaming as he charged for the swordsman. As he approached him, he jumped into the air, hit the ground, rolled, and went in for an upwards vertical slash, cutting even through the small amount of ground that he managed to hit in the arc of the attack
OOC: This is kind of the idea that I had for him, once he gets into the fight, he becomes more careless, but... If y'all want me to change this, I can.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Sept 9, 2011 16:19:07 GMT -5
“That how it is, eh?” Aveiro shouted with a grin, and threw himself in a roll to the side. Belwyn’s alchohol met Charles’ flaming uppercut, and the burning liquid was thrown skyward. It rained in sizzling droplets, burning each spot it struck. The leaf litter was set to smoldering by the blazing shower, small fires rising up all around the grim outpost. “Beautiful, the blossoming of flowers in spring. Each one marks a new point of growth, another chance for their originator’s hopes and dreams to come to fruition,” The black veined man stood at the gaping hole left by his chimeric feline, the flames casting his charcoal teeth in red. “Ah, so you’re game now? Jus’ about f*cking time. Here I was thinking you’d wait to see a flock of southbound geese before the moment was right for your migration to the battlefield,” Aveiro spat, the last sentence bitterly mimicking the murky lilt of the shorter man. He still clutched the Assurance in his right hand, his left holding onto a charred slash into his side. “When hunting in a pack, the strongest hunters are the ones that spring at the last moment… After that, all is over except for a bloody, futile struggle for the prey.” “Yeah, yeah. I’d be hacking you to pieces right now, had your larking around not yielded all of these wonderful targets,” Aveiro glanced from person to person, trying to decide on a target. His eyes fell upon Charles, and a grin swept across his bloodied lips. “I’ll take the fiery one. He seems my speed. You and puss can split up the rest… I’ll join you momentarily,” Aveiro inhaled deeply, and took his hand from his side. He stepped back briskly, and threw a slash over his shoulder, his blade gleaming like a meteor ripping through the night air. The blow cut cleanly into the metal siding of the shack. Aveiro planted the tip of his blade in the dirt behind him, and tore the sheet free. With a spin, he flung the jagged steel like a discus at Charles. As his opponent dealt with that attack, he pulled his blade free, and rushed in with an overhead strike. “Very well. The lowest fowl admits his place, and silences his crowing to roost amongst the hens. Meanwhile, the high cockerel defends his roost against all that would threaten it,” Raising his hands, the slight man closed his eyes. Around the clearing, trees began to collapse into desiccated jumbles of timber. “If that is all you can do, it’s best you return to your warren, runt,” Sthenelus growled, and began deliberately striding towards the wizened figure. He clenched an immense fist, the knuckles popping again like the grinding of stones. “When one plants a seed, that is not an end in itself, but merely a preparation for a later task,” The man lowered one bony claw, and a moment later, the surroundings reacted. A gigantic, burning talon, cobbled from the scattered deadwood, rose from the earth, a twisted parody of a growing plant. It seized Zagaroth and flung him from his perch atop the unfortunate leonine beast. Then swinging about, it took aim at Sthenelus. The brute met its swipe with a battering ram of a punch, sparks and cinders exploding out around the point of contact. He took hold of a finger of the gigantic limb, and snapped it off effortlessly, the flames harmlessly searing his leathery skin. He threw it at the caster, the baseball-bat sized dart stopping in midair. “Ah, another one who dares to meddle in nature, albeit from a diametric opposition. The most satisfying kind to take apart,” Something in the man’s demeanor had changed, a harshness that had been absent in his earlier incoherent mumblings. The projectile exploded into dozens of cruelly hooked shards, and flew straight back at the giant. Each one struck with the force of a bullet, bursting into a strobe of embers across Sthenelus’ chest. He swatted the last salvo of them out of the air with his left arm, his manacles taking on the slightest of red glow from the punishment. His strides began becoming more purposeful, soon approaching a lumbering sprint as he rushed the one he dwarfed. The earth shook beneath his feet, flames snuffed beneath his tread. He cocked a fist, readying to mash the defiler of the forest into a fine red paste. A lance of steel shot out of the side of the building, piercing his arm and passing out the other side. Sthenelus choked out a strangled scream, his rush stopping dead. The wind alone from his charge caught the smaller man, and almost swept him off of his feet. “That’s iron forged by man, fool. To those such as yourself, it is an unparalleled venom. One such as myself, an expert in all poisons… would easily be able to figure such,” The man turned away from Sthenelus, leaving him to slump to his knees. His arm remained twisted uncomfortably above his head, slowly turning black around the wound. “And now, the shark trails the blood of the prey, ready to finish its meal,” The defiler finally lowered his other hand, the flaming arm bursting back to motion. It surged towards Zagaroth, the fingertips sharpening and forking into dozens of blades and spikes. The lion, freed of the smaller being that had been ripping into it with gusto, now stood to its full height. Its hackles rose, its nostrils flaring as it inhaled the smoky air. Somewhere, it smelled a familiar note, something that invoked the flash of fleeing prey to its dozens of tangled instincts. A flash of white, a streak of red, bounding to stand before it. This prey… must’ve been totally unaware of its hunter. The cat’s tail twitched back and forth, its slanted pupils focusing on the rabbit. It raised one titanic paw, and brought it streaking down at the snowy ball of fluff. Flames around it roared up as they were fanned by the blow, crackling and sparking and beginning to creep out into the surrounding forest. OOC: Kinda left Belwyn out of the fray, but then again, she is the only one without a clear "Rival" here. I guess it's up to her to tip the scales!
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Post by Ninety on Sept 9, 2011 21:00:58 GMT -5
OOC: You should have waited three more days to post this.
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Post by {WW}BetaBloodWolf7 on Sept 9, 2011 21:03:46 GMT -5
OOC: No. No he really should not have.
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Dec 29, 2011 23:09:06 GMT -5
Zagaroth hit the ground hard, he felt the wind rush out of his body and for a minute he just laid there dazed. Finally gathering his senses Zagaroth struggled to his feet.
"Curse you old man, that actually hurt and it hurts my feelings that you would just dump me off like that, we still aren't done with our fight."
Forming a large rifle out of ice, Zagaroth pointed it at the old man.
"Hey old man, do you know why you're not dead yet? It's because me and that weak little boy don't really see eye to eye, when I take over it's not all the way. The only way to fix that is by one of us being in full control of the other, you should be thankful he's being stubborn."
An evil and slightly crazy look entered Zagaroth's eyes and a smile spread across his face.
"Now eat this old man."
Pulling the trigger, Zagaroth broke out into uncontrollable laughter. A large shell rocketed from the barrel and quickly traveled toward the old man.
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Turning a corner, Flint screamed in frustration as another dead end appeared. He quickly turned around and tried to back track his way to the last cross roads.
"Why is this maze so confusing? I don't remember the elder creating anything this complicated, this is going to be a very long day."
Large spikes suddenly came out of the floor. Beads of sweat formed on Flint's face as they missed him on all sides by only an eighth of an inch.
"What was the elder trying to protect with this stuff? I got to get to that pillar in the middle."
Flint carefully slipped out from the spikes and began to try to decide which path to take next. Finally selecting the one to his right he began to sprint hoping to get to the pillar soon.
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Post by Shrouded Wolf on Jan 5, 2012 4:55:14 GMT -5
Charles had deflected the projectile with his sword, sending it flying off to his right, but in his hot-blooded fury, he had failed to see the attacker behind the badly shaped piece of metal. He brought up Ashura barely in time to avoid getting a major injury from Aviero's slash, but the sword happened to make a gash in his right arm and the force of the oncoming opponent had sent him tumbling to the ground. Charles looked up from the ground, "You cut my arm, you damn bastard!" Then he planted his left hand in the ground and sprang to his feet while saying, "Ah, a challenger approaches. Enough of this." With that, Ashura's flames sputtered and faded away and he re-sheathed his sword in his leather trench coat. From within the coat, he drew out a different sword that had a small bolt of electricity run up the blade as it left its sheath. This sword, also had a long, curved edge...yet, it couldn't be more different from Ashura. While the hilt of Ashura was embroided with rubies and the cross-guard was made from a deep red color with bright yellow and orange stripes, this sword had amethysts and onyxes embedded in its hilt and the cross-guard was purely black. And then, there was the blade itself. Unlike its flaming counterpart, this sword's blade was smooth and there wasn't a single notch or scratch on it. It was a pale white with a vague light blue tint to it and unlike Ashura's jagged edge, this sword's edge was perfectly smooth and was decorated by a wild lightning bolt running parallel to the blade. Charles moved the sword from his right to his left hand and looked over his enemy with a silent, cold glance. Then, suddenly, he launched into an attack with a horizontal cut at his enemy. This time, while Charles' attacks were wild and loud with Ashura in his hands, it was as if he had suddenly become a different person. This attack was cold, swift, and calculated. As his new sword met Aviero's blade, a small bolt of lightning went from the clashing swords, to Aviero himself, towards the nearest target, yet ended up dissipating into thin air as no one was close enough. OOC: Don't worry, the lightning at the end isn't powerful...I'm just getting started.
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Post by {WW}BetaBloodWolf7 on Feb 16, 2012 12:39:51 GMT -5
Mr. Rabbit leapt aside as the titanic paw came crashing down where he had stood moments before. The air reeked of the lion's scent. The scent that every feline on Earth seemed to possess.
He spun to face the beast, bringing his spear against it as well. The lion roared as it's prey escaped and defiantly stood before it, aware of it's hunter.
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Post by Cendra on Feb 29, 2012 21:21:32 GMT -5
Belwyn fell to the ground, gasping for air. It was a difficult task with the phantom feeling of burning metal still at her neck and bruised flesh already rising to the surface of her skin. By the time she recovered from near blackout daze, the fight was well underway. Metal shards flew through the air, one managing to slice a shallow cut on Belwyn's shin resulting in a stumble. She glanced at the wound. It would be a waste of what she had left of her healing supplies to bandage it up. From the look of things, she was going to need every last bit of it before the end. Returning her attention back to the event at hand, she was relieved to see that she seemed to have been forgotten once again. That was good. She worked better when she wasn't the center of anyone's attention. After a quick assessment of everyone, Belwyn formed a plan. Yes, it would be painful. Yes, if it failed she might not be as close to the living as she would prefer, but it was the only way she knew to help. To heal and hurt. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the dull pain in her left leg, she stood. Her eyes locked on the summoner who was distracted by Zagaroth's ice shots. He looked to be close enough to the giant. She could do this. Quickly, before the moment passed, Belwyn sprung into action. Running toward the summoner, she rammed herself as hard as she could into him, knocking him onto his side as they skidded toward Sthenelus. "Just a little farther!" she thought as deep scrapes covered her arms and legs, but the slippery blood did not keep her from having a firm skin contact, in her right hand, with the one beside her. With a heavy grunt Belwyn rose from the ground as quickly as she could when their slide was coming to it's end. They were close enough now! With the giant kneeling in pain on the ground it was easy enough to find a place of contact for her left hand. "Take what you give!!" she screamed to the summoner as pain similar to that which she felt from the sword earlier, shot through her in waves. "Pull it out!" She yelled to Sthenelus. The affects of the poison were being healed, but with the iron still lodged in Sthenelus, Belwyn couldn't break the link she had with either of her contacts. With the way things were, she was giving Sthenelus her strength while taking his injuries as she took the summoner's strength from him and forced him to take the damage, she had absorbed from Sthenelus. But even though Belwyn's physical strength was being returned, her life seemed to leave her in a steady stream. OOC: If that was confusing, she's basically making the summoner (who I can't remember the name of...) take all the injuries that she and Sthenelus have. With Sthenelus continually getting hurt due to the poison iron stuck in his arm, she can't let go because he keeps getting injured right after she heals him. I hope that helps! I know I'm a little rusty... This is the first I've written in months. I hope you guys like it anyway. It was really fun writing it. Practically bouncing in my seat. Hehe...
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Post by Tout-Perd on May 21, 2012 20:38:45 GMT -5
The defiler had reacted immediately to Zagaroth’s fusillade of ice shells, fangs and talons of burning wood shooting up from the earth to intersect the paths of the projectiles. He cast a pitch black sneer at the fallen king, readying to bring the disembodied, titanic arm into play again.
It was at that moment that the girl hit him from the side, knocking him sprawling. Contrary to what would be expected, he seemed to relish the feeling of being dragged along the cinder strewn earth. His shrill laughter rang in Belwyn’s ear as she bulled him closer to Sthenelus.
“And now a lamb attempts to quell a cobra! Such a stupid beast…” His venous hands clutched in the litter, and a crude spike of embers and metal shards formed in his palm. He raised it to ram it into Belwyn’s ribcage- And then her enchantment struck.
His upper arm seemed almost to explode, curdled blood rolling from the spontaneous wound. The conjured shiv dissolved as he collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe.
Sthenelus looked down to Belwyn, his normally stern gaze betraying a moment of shock. With no further hesitation, he slammed his frying pan-sized hand against the side of the building. With a single shove, he tore himself free of the baneful barb.
“Take me apart, shall you? When you attempted such, you overlooked that my compatriot could put me back together!” Sthenelus roared. He pushed Belwyn behind himself with a single motion, and then lunged forwards. He took a single step, planting one foot heavily, and then kicked with the other. There was a deafening whoosh as his gigantic leg swung forward, striking the defiler where he lay.
The smaller man almost seemed to vanish, going from a standstill to rocketing through the air instantaneously. He spiraled through the air, and clipped a limb from one of the thickly iced trees in his passing. He landed in a bloody, motionless heap. -------- Aveiro locked his joints as the voltage coursed into him. The burns and aftermath of electrocution were painful, but to succumb to it and lose control of his muscles… That could prove even more lethal.
Another swift cut… It seemed that youth had lost his sloppy, improvised style. He’d have to adjust accordingly. Aveiro blocked the slash, and felt his arms tremble, his wrists twitch from the blow. No, he wasn’t going to let him past that easily.
The swordsman broke free of the crossing, jumping back. He darted towards Charles from the side, and bounded at him. He took hold of one of his opponent’s neck, raising his own blade while he was still in the air.
Charles swung at him, and their blades clashed. Aveiro gritted his teeth as the electricity flowed into him again… And then arced back into Charles, who was now grounding the power for him, with an even greater force. Aveiro was thrown back, and tumbled head over heels. He landed on his feet again, but faltered. His movements were shaky, and his blade was clearly trembling. The last shock had hurt, badly, but if his makeshift assault had worked, it should have hit Charles twice as badly.
“Well, that was fun. I’ve been enjoying being zapped like a fucking mosquito so fucking much, I decided to give back,” He grinned at Charles, and managed to force his muscles into abeyance long enough to point the Assurance steadily at his foe.
“How’d you like it?” -------- The feline’s snaking tail twitched slightly, swishing back and forth. Its claws extended from their sheaths, punching into the leaf litter, then retracting again. Though the prey wasn't petrified like any normal rabbit, that would surely change soon.
It lunged, slamming a paw into the earth. Trees shook, people stumbled, and a cloud of dirt exploded upwards under the impact.
Movement. The lion's gigantic golden eyes darted, and fell upon the rabbit standing just out of its reach, still hefting the spear. The beast swept its other paw along the ground, aiming to crush its miniscule adversary.
The leporine warrior bounded over the titanic limb, again dodging just barely. He landed, keeping the spear focused on the predator.
Its tail was no longer twitching bemusedly, its hackles raised. A thick, spiky mane bristled outwards, and a deep, rumbling, demonic yowl began rising from deep within its throat. It pounced, launching a flurry of blows with each paw. The impacts buffeted everything nearby, crumbling some of the dessicated trees and shaking sheet metal from the hideout's walls. One portion of the building caved in outright, creaking as it folded under the battery.
The creature stopped, the fussilade of blows still echoing through the frosted woods. Leaves and twigs, flung swywards by the flurry, now rained freely down upon everybody present. It sniffed the air, trying to discern what had become of its prey. It could smell blood. Lots of blood, actually. Mostly human, but there was an odd scent to a few of the individuals... And no scent of a dead rabbit.
The cat heard a slight twitch behind it, and spun in a motion that seemed simply impossible for a behemoth like it. The white rabbit was there, still pointing that spear, still with that same unshaking resolve, still unmarred by any crimson except for the tie around his neck.
The lion threw itself forwards with a noise that sounded more like a rushing flame than an angry hiss. It locked its titanic fangs around the haft of the spear, seizing it from the side. With a wrenching twist, it turned its head, attempting to fling its prey high into the air.
Once it lost its footing and weapon, surely its life would follow soon after.
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on Jun 7, 2012 21:54:45 GMT -5
With the old man now laying against a tree in a bloody pulp Zagaroth could breath a little easier. However, the lion and the other man were still standing. The rifle in Zagaroth's hands disappeared and he quickly ran back toward the building. Before his civilizations destruction they were assassins so they didn't like being in the open for too long. Quickly reaching the outside of the building, he looked for an opening in the collapsed wall. Unable to find one, he grabbed a sheet of metal and ripped it free from the wall. Slipping inside he replaced the sheet and froze the corners in place. Zagaroth wandered around the building for a few minutes without meeting anyone. Most of the enemies had already been crushed by the lion or were outside fighting. Eventually he arrived in a room more elevated than the rest. It appeared that construction on this room had been completed recently because scaffolding still stood in one of the corners. The scaffolding's shaky construction slowed Zagaroth's climb. Reaching the top he froze a small rectangle of metal in the wall. Punching the frozen patch Zagaroth created a new hole in the building. A 50 caliber sniper rifle quickly formed on the scaffolding and Zagaroth lay down, putting his eye to the scope. Through the scope he saw the battle raging on. Everyone looked like ants except for the giant and the lion.
"What did that old man say about gods and ants again?" Zagaroth said to himself with an evil grin and a chuckle.
John worked for the people who owned the building in the woods. Earlier that day the possibility of an attack hadn't even occurred to him, but somehow he now found himself outside their base in the woods fighting along side the people he worked with.
"Hey Frank how you......" Johns question was cut short as he saw Frank fly back into a tree with a large hole in his chest. In horror John watched more people around him suffer the same fate.
John ran toward the trees in a panic yelling "GET TO COVER!" his cries were cut off as he met the same fate as his companions.
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Flint ran down endless corridors, never seeming to get any closer to the pillar in the middle. Finally he just stopped and sat down to take a break. When his breathing finally calmed down he became more aware of his surroundings. Listening intently he heard a small song playing within the maze. Deciding to abandon his search for a way to the pillar, he instead headed for the song which drifted sweetly down the passage. This time he walked instead of running so that he wouldn't lose the song. Passing by a pair of daggers he picked them up suspecting there might be yet another monster closer to the music.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 20, 2013 12:17:55 GMT -5
Charles staggered from the shock, feeling his legs buckling and his jaw snap shut entirely free of his control. He clenched his sword tighter, the motion a mire of his instinctive training, a fleeting hope that it would shield him better against its own attacks, and a twitch born of the aftermath of the jolt he had taken.
He could feel it tugging at his mind, and he let it pull him along. The spasms began abating, his muscles feeling more like coiled steel than the rampaging inferno he’d been just moments prior. His vision was clear, focused on every detail of his opponent with no regard for the absolute pandemonium that was being unleashed around him. The thick white smoke of the burning trees, the thundering footfalls of the leonine titan, the pain from his myriad cuts and injuries… All were muted, faded, irrelevant.
He dashed at Aveiro, the movement kicking up a spray of cinders and woodchips behind him. He slashed, aiming for the swordsman’s throat, a blindingly fast stroke.
Aveiro stumbled back. He’d just barely avoided the swing, and then he had to fade back again to avoid the perfectly executed backswing.
He found himself pressured by this new rhythm that Charles had fallen into; wild swings and bombardments of flame were easy enough to dodge, despite their inherent danger. This current method of attack, though, was anything but. Charles was making swift, almost surgical cuts with each swing, putting no real power into each blow. The lack of force wasn’t an issue for him, though, because even the merest touch would sear the opponent.
Aveiro ducked a slash, and then threw himself past his opponent. He tumbled into a crouch, turning as he landed to regard his enemy. Charles took another graceful swing as he about-faced, the motion so smooth that it seemed his arms had been made to deliver it. Aveiro raised his sheath to block it, pearlescent chips spraying as it shattered. Another shock coursed through him, diminished by his scabbard’s poor conductivity, but painful nonetheless.
He jumped away on shaky legs, putting a gap between him and the formerly berserk swordsman.
“I just have to ask…” Aveiro panted, “You changed so much just by switching weapons. Are you wielding the swords, or are they wielding you?”
“Does it matter?” Charles deadpanned, instantly closing the distance. His swing was so quick as to be almost invisible, but for the light glinting off of the blade.
Aveiro sidestepped by a matter of inches, and then planted his heel against Charles’ ribcage, giving him a solid boot to the side. He vaulted back, and continued backpedaling. The kick, though hasty in execution, had been delivered to a vulnerable point under his enemy’s arm. Aveiro may as well have booted his opponent directly in the lung.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t actually matter. Unless I find some way of breaking your sword, then there is no difference between the two on the field of battle,” Aveiro eyed the other warrior cagily. He was slumped over, spluttering, but with his newfound control, it could be only a split second before he renewed the assault.
A part of his mind began warning him to flee, began ruing his decision to get involved. The vast majority of the remainder shouted it down instantly. This puzzle was exactly the thrill that he lived for! Anybody could kill somebody, that was easy. Morons without But Powers- Powers! Each one was unique, a miraculous chance occurrence that was imbued with abilities vastly beyond the ken of human experience. To slay one of them, you had to intuit their unique vulnerabilities, find some way of reaching it with your own capabilities, and all the while, manage to weather the various storms they unleashed upon you.
To kill somebody… Aveiro was no stranger to violence and killings. He’d taken many lives, but that was business. To take down a Power though, wasn’t just recreation. It was absolute elation!
That feeling of solving a stubborn math problem, where everything just clicked perfectly into place, magnifying the scope of that a hundredfold, drawn out to the fullest through the life affirmation of a near death experience, and manifesting it through the lens of an achievement akin to cresting Mount Everest, that was the closest he could come to expressing that utterly unique thrill! It might be ignominious presently, doing work that was considered amoral and was unquestionably dangerous, but Aveiro could deal. He had an addiction, but considering the places it took him, he was totally okay with it.
A chill sweeping down his back snapped Aveiro back to the present. Right, Charles. That was his problem to solve now. After that, he’d be free to take his pick. The bruiser was quite boring, and wasn’t worth regarding, but the girl’s powers would be yet another delightful puzzle, one he’d enjoy solving-
No, no, no. Charles. The guy with a sword, straight ahead of him. That was his riddle to solve right now, and if he didn’t succeed, he’d be S.O.L. for the others. He hadn’t missed much in his musings, though. Despite being too winded to charge after him, the man had maintained an unfaltering grasp upon his blade. He’d been ready to parry any follow up attacks, and with that wicked taser of a blade, it would only take a single touch of his weapon to put Aveiro back on the defensive.
Clearly, the only way to win was refusing to let Charles use that blade in any capacity.
Aveiro dashed in, and stopped short. He put his full momentum into a glorious punt, and launched a rock the size of his fist directly at Charles’ face. A fluid, graceful sweep cleaved through the rock. The halves tumbled by to either side of Charles.
It was then that Aveiro took a lunging slash at the other swordsman from the side, his blade clipping the man’s shoulder. Charles’ eyes narrowed, and he threw a sweeping strike aimed at his enemy’s legs.
Aveiro jumped over the attack, and then threw an elbow into Charles’ jaw. Before he could recover equilibrium, Aveiro snagged him by the collar. He yanked Charles towards him, and met him with a brutal headbutt.
His quarry staggered back, obviously in pain but still not taking his hands from his weapon. Shame, that.
Aveiro brought the Assurance down in a sweeping overhead strike, and Charles moved to parry it instantly. It was then that Aveiro ended his feint and spun back, throwing a roundhouse kick into the hilt of his opponent’s weapon. The thick rubber sole of his boot protected him against the shock, letting him finally put his full strength into a strike against it.
It slipped out of Charles’ grasp, finally leaving him open to attack.
“Crap!” He reached for Ashura, only to have Aveiro’s blade flick between his hand and his weapon. Had he been quicker on the draw, he’d have lost his fingers then and there.
“I’m done with your fancy swords, punk, and done with you,” Aveiro planted his boot against Charles’ chest and drove him to the ground. He hit hard, feeling his breath get knocked out of him yet again. Rocks dug into his back, and what felt like an especially sharp one jabbed him in the side.
“Any last words?” The Assurance was held directly over Charles’ throat, a six-inch drop away from ending his life.
“Sure…” Charles gasped, “It was fun while it lasted… But I’m just too good at this.”
He raised his hand to grasp the Assurance, the blade biting through skin and drawing blood. With a grunt, he twisted, letting his blade that he’d fallen upon stab into him.
“What?” Was all that Aveiro could remark before there was a blinding flash and clap of thunder. He was blown off his feet, landing a good eight feet away.
Charles gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t deny that he was tough, but channeling the full voltage of his blade through his own body was far from a pleasant experience. He glanced over at Aveiro, who’d clearly been rendered unconscious from the blast. Still, the swordsman writhed and twitched, smoke rising from his clothing.
Charles managed to roll to his feet, and used his good hand to yank his sword’s tip from his side. Fortunately, the blast had cauterized most of his injuries, so blood loss wasn’t going to be an issue. On the other hand, he had a feeling that Belwyn would have quite a few things to say when she was patching him up.
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Post by Cendra on Mar 21, 2013 11:47:34 GMT -5
Belwyn fell on her forearms and knees when Sthenelus swept her out of immediate danger. With gasping breaths she tried to gain back control over her own shaking body. The pain and wounds may have been gone, but the suddenness of such injuries had still sent her mind, body and spirit into overtime. Never before had she attempted anything quite so severe. She wouldn't be able to do much else with her powers for the time being. It was hard enough already to not just pass out.
“Those wounds would be fatal even without the giant's attacks.” She thought. Her breathing slowed and shaking quelled enough for her to resume a halfhearted sitting position. She cringed when she saw the still body. To know she had helped bring someone to such an end sickened her, but she couldn't say his passing didn't bring her some feeling relief as well. In the end she knew it had to be done. When one strays from the light for so long, it is rare they ever return.
“But wait, his body isn't completely still..." His bloody sides still rose and fell with ragged breaths. Just as she went to take a closer look, a bright flash and shaking boom resonated through the air sending a second wave of adrenaline through her veins. Belwyn turned to the direction of the disturbance and what she saw there made her breath stop. Charles impaled on his own sword was the last thing she thought she would see and she had to look away when he went to remove it. Suddenly she was thankful that she had over stocked on her herbs and oils, because he sure looked like he was going to need them.
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Post by {WW}BetaBloodWolf7 on Jan 1, 2014 1:41:46 GMT -5
His feet left the ground as the lion wrenched its head, throwing Mr. Rabbit into the air. It spat the spear out with a snarl, raise a fore-paw, and batted the rabbit into a tree. He lay still... finally the natural order had been restored! The beast licked its chops, ready to at last sate itself.
Pain flared throughout Mr. Rabbit's body as he lay in front of the tree. He shifted slightly and opened his eyes. Several feet away was the feline, frozen in mid step.
Quickly, while the lion was astonished, Mr. Rabbit picked himself up and sprung towards his spear. The beast roared in anger once again as he picked it up. The tufts around the blade were torn, and a huge crack ran through it. Now the beast was charging, eyes filled with rage. Mr. Rabbit smacked the blade against the ground, snapping the broken end off, planted the butt into the ground, and braced for the beast.
It slammed into the broken shaft, the momentum of its charge driving it deeper in. He snarled and snapped, pushing to reach its prey. Finally it fell, struggling to reach the rabbit until it died.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 7, 2016 22:06:40 GMT -5
A crackling, burbling noise came from the fallen form of the Defiler. The shattered lump of mangled flesh rocked and lurched, slowly rolling over until the seemingly dead figure had risen to its knees.
“To think-“ The man’s sentence was cut off by ragged coughing, streams of blood pouring from his lips. He fell forwards on his hands, retching until he coughed up more blood, clotted with yellowed teeth.
“All the bee’s labors are in vain when idiot bears ruin their nest…” He heaved, using his intact arm to hold himself halfway upright. His dark, veiny eyes met Belwyn’s gaze, and his thin, blotchy lips drew back to reveal his savaged gums in a delirious grin.
“After such an insult, what recourse has the bee, except to lay down its life with a sting of vengeance?” The warped elf staggered to his feet, raising his shattered arm with his remaining limb. Crackling, a current of black lightning sparked from the black veins of his stump and coursed to his linked hands. It grew into a barely contained sphere of dark mana, seemingly pulsing in tune with the fiend’s blood. He let loose a quavering howl of rage, and the sphere shot free of his hands, and into the sky above, showing like an umbral twin to the sun. The defiler’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell forward. He gave one last wet cough as he collapsed.
There was a deafening whoosh, and the flames of the forest began bowing inwards to the clearing. Threads of fire arched into the air, lacing the sky as they knotted around the sphere. Cinders began rising up from the earth, flitting about like giant fireflies. The shack began screeching, nails and screws getting yanked free as if a giant magnet was tugging them loose. The steel sheeting began peeling loose in jagged curls, resembling the edges of an immense sawblade as they trailed upwards into the sky.
The man’s surviving minions found their weapons yanked out of their hands and shooting into the maelstrom. The guns went off at random as they plunged into the inferno, sending bullets whizzing in all directions. The debris had formed into a churning vortex of glowing steel, roaring flame, and smoldering ashes, piercingly screaming as the shattered metal ground against itself with unearthly fury.
Sthenelus raised his battered head quietly, regarding the huge comet of white-hot dregs that had been formed from sculpting the entirety of the forest fire around a heart of iron. The immense heap of blazing scrap began to fall, plummeting towards the center of the ravaged glade.
“By the Lord and Lady of the Fey Courts,” He murmured, and lowered his gaze. When the defiler’s attack landed, there wouldn’t be a single one of them left alive.
“And so, it ends like this.”
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Shoni
Joyeuse Insurgency
Posts: 191
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Post by Shoni on May 23, 2016 2:17:32 GMT -5
The song slowly grew louder as Flint wandered through the corridor. Its haunting resonance echoed throughout the stone maze. The hallway began to grow wider until it opened into a large room. The elusive ice pillar towered in the center and a small girl danced around its base as a black and white ragdoll sat nearby. The girl’s blonde hair hung from her head in loose curls that bounced as she skipped and sang. Each note seemed to send Flint back to an earlier time before there was any violence in the world and he felt a peace falling over him. Taking slow deliberate steps he approached the icy column that he had been so desperate to find. The girl briefly stopped singing and turned to the boy.
“You can’t go near there. You’ll die if you do.”
Ignoring the girls words, Flint reached a hand toward the pillar. He could feel the cold radiating off its shiny surface. As his fingers passed over the brightly glowing runes that surrounded the columns base, small fragments of ice began to violently swirl through the air within the runic circle. The frozen swarm tore at his flesh as Flint tried to push his hand toward the storms center. Sweat dripped down his face and he could feel his head becoming light. His vision suddenly became blurry and he collapsed onto the floor. Closing his eyes Flint could feel the warm blood spilling onto the floor from his left arm. The skin had been shredded into ribbons from his fingertips to his elbow. Slowly reopening his eyes Flint could make out the fuzzy shapes of the girls and ragdoll standing over him. The ragdolls eyes now glowed a deep purple and black mist drifted from his stitched mouth as he opened it to speak. “Stupid boy it’s not your time. I can’t have you dying just yet.”
Flint could feel his consciousness fade as the ragdoll touched his forehead.
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The metal that covered Zagaroth’s perch was rapidly disappearing as the large fiery ball in the sky grew larger and larger. The scaffolding below him began to creak as the pieces twisted and shook trying to contribute to the impending doom. Jumping down from his vantage point Zagaroth walked toward the old man’s lifeless body.
“What kind of god dies so easily?” He asked with a mocking grin. “I thought we were all ants that had come to be slaughtered.”
Stopping over the body, Zagaroth squatted down close to his ear and whispered. “You robbed me of the joy of killing you myself. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to kill a god.”
Returning to his feet Zagaroth thrust a shaft of ice through the back of the old man’s head.
“And now it’s time for the king to outlive the god.”
The airs temperature began to drop as Zagaroth walked through the field, stopping below the growing ball of fire and steel. Each step he took caused ice pillars to erupt from the ground around him. The pillars floated into the air and began to swirl around Zagaroth. Crashing into each other the pillars took the shape of a large serpentine dragon. Its icy scales shimmered beneath the roaring flames and its roar shook the forest. The dragon’s body circled its master in loose coils, its flow seemed to match the motions Zagaroth made with his index fingers. As he controlled the dragon Zagaroth could feel his arm begin to bleed. “What the hell is Flint doing?” He thought to himself; his left arm was rapidly becoming shredded into a bloody mess.
Flying toward the artificial comet, the dragon opened it mouth widely. The two forces collided in a brilliant flash of light and a deafening explosion. Snow flakes and small pieces of metal plummeted to earth as Zagaroth collapsed. His eyes faded from grey to blue as he watched blood from his left arm soak into the soil turning the nearby snow red.
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