|
Post by Ivan Sahale on Jul 18, 2014 0:55:38 GMT -6
I will hunt you down... The creature was charging wildly towards him, the large man ready to clash with the beast when suddenly the creature was stopped, the fist that would have slammed into Ivans chest surely caving it into his body causing shards of bone to pierce lung, and heart! Instead this attack was stopped, he heard the sound of metal clashing with metal again signaling that the creatures iron hard fist had clashed with something hard. Ivan would look his eyes filled with surprise, was his mind playing tricks on him? No this was very real, it was reinforced when he felt her press against his body the sensation of her warm skin pushed against him, the wet whatever that muck was that now stained his bare chest. Ivan would look down at her feeling her body slip, and push against him as she struggled with the wild beast, the sound of her battle cry rang into his ears. But everything at this moment felt so surreal, he was also very confused he felt himself not fully understanding why she was here, and why she was helping him. After what he had said to her, the way he had treated her when they last saw each other why was she helping him? Was it because she cared? But why would she?
These questions circled in his head but at the end of it all it would e the mighty roar of the monster just before it struck Zero that would break Ivan away from his thoughts, his eyes widened with shock when she saw her body almost double over after the beast struck her. But then from this shock something else came about, like a wild wolf protecting his mate Ivan would bare his teeth grinding them together, his golden eyes sharpened with an intense glare when Zero got off him she moved forward throwing his sword into the ground. The sharpened cleaver easily found its edge digging into the Earth, the large man would walk forward his large hand gripping the reinforced hilt of his cleaver as he tensed his muscles to tear it from where it was. "You bastard..." he whispered with a tone that was heavy with rage, "You son of a bitch!" he snapped glaring at the beast, his eyes glancing at Zero as she grabbed her ribs.
Turning away from the woman he cared for, he focused his golden eyed glare on the four armed beast "YOU, DON'T DARE PUT YOUR HANDS ON HER AGAIN!" he practically roared as he charged forward without a care in his step as he moved towards the beast who seemed eager to welcome its opponent. But this time Ivan was not attacking for the sake of his own survival anymore, he was attacking to protect Zero just as she had protected him he was moving in to protect her, now he was her shield, and her sword! The beast would welcome Ivan with a wild swing, but this time the man ducked with honed reflexes avoiding the swing, and with one mighty stomp of his foot he swung his cleaver upwards severing the arm where the joints met. The black ooze would spill from the wound staining the ground using the momentum of his swing Ivan would slash against this time across the beasts throat, or at least where he assumed its throat was.
The gash was wide, and it was open the creature was overwhelmed, but Ivan was far from done with this thing. His free hand would shoot forward pushing into the gash that was sliced open by his cleaver, Ivans hand felt the warm ooze inside, but he ignored it grabbing hold of the first thing he could Ivan would pull back with what strength he had left tearing out what seemed to be...well whatever part of this things body, but he had torn it out! A gurgled cry escaped the creature as it fell to its knees, once there Ivan raised a leg, and kicked the thing down onto its back then raised his cleaver overhead to let it drop down swiftly. The honed edge digging into the beasts chest slicing the cavity, and burying into its dark flesh.
With his muscular physique colored in ooze, the blade of his cleaver stained black he pulled the sword back, and only then did he turn towards Zero. Ivan stared at her for a moment, his mind ignoring the madness of the battle around them, with a few steps towards her he walked despite his tired he felt, and how dazed his mind was. Once he was in front of Zero, the large man would reach for her face, using his right hands thumb to wipe away a smudge of ooze from her cheek. "Don't die, because we need to talk after this is over" he said to her taking his hand from her features, he was of course referring to how reckless she had been when she jumped in front of him the way she had. Yes, she had saved his ass but he never wanted to see Zero in any danger, she had not come out of that exchange unharmed either. Turning from her Ivan would raise his cleaver onto his shoulder resting the weapon as he eyed the situation around them.
"Any ideas?" he asked Zero looking over his shoulder at her, "....things are pretty damn hectic, so we need to find a way to lop the head off the snake no?" he asked her with a smirk on his features. There was something about working along side her that was, well it made him feel good. Not only that but now that he knew she was here, he was going to watch over her even if she was too proud to accept his help he could care less because she was gonna shut up, and deal with it. He was her cub after all...
| | words 989 tags notes CREATURE #4 - DEAD
| ...escaping is futile... |
made by jasmin - for sir paya use only
|
|
|
Post by NPC1 on Jul 20, 2014 18:23:01 GMT -6
- AGGRESSION - "Your skin, your bones.. your loved ones, your home.. they will all burn." At first, all he could do was grin and cackle deeply at how much he had effected the mummied man. Aggression was never one to play mind games or take part in trickery. Nothing of that sort. But it sure felt like he had strings wrapped around his claws simply pulling.. and pulling at the man that thought himself so strong to rebel against his natural desires. The strings of rage and temptation.
As his enormous feet shoved and caved the ground beneath him step after step while he charged the god and worthless, lonely speaker. "Dirt! Worms! The lot of you!" he growled and extended his jaw open for one, huge, booming set of laughter. He was stopped however, electrifying eyes widened at the sight of the Eastern god's protective power. Aggression's heel stopped her in the dirt and his large arms barely had enough time to fold an 'x' in front of his torso when the beam of light stabbed through the air and shot towards him.
The light was almost unbearable. Glorious, wonderful, admirable power and pain! How magnificent! It burned through the skin of his arms, evaporating the darkness that held their strength. When it stopped.. he gave way and set his knee to the ground. Heavy arms fell at his sides, knuckles smacking against the ground as he sat there - smoking. The grey mist drifted off of his scaulding, bleeding skin. The horns now faced the god and speaker, head hanging down as they curled outward.
"Yes...." the side of his expression showed a crooked, evil smirk. Eyes popped open again and the blue light glew against his lap before Aggression tilted his head back up and cracked his neck side-to-side. "Just.. as I expected--" his leg lifted, stepping forward to make himself stand straight again, "--from a GOD-AH!" the bass ripped from his throat and shook the stone surfaces that crumbled around the now-ruined arena.
"And the ONLY being brave enough to face me!!" now his expression grew angry.. lines formed in his forehead and between his brows to pull them further down and closer together. The lock of his jaw was almost so intense that it might have made a sound. Muscles clenched and retracted everywhere visible on his body... wings lifting and stretching outwards. "Who else...." he stared down the speaker that helped the injured.. the other competitors and audience members helping one another regardless of originating country. Sickening. Did they not see that they would all die? All be burnt by flame, drown in blood, be buried under dirt and ash alike? It was only a matter of time.. "WHO!" he demaded without any apparent joy.
He turned around slowly, seeing the group of standing, selfish dogs that circled around one another. "Some sense... how delightful," his lips tugged downwards in a frown.. and he made eye contact with the blonde who seemed to order them vocally - one of the ring's fighters. "......You..." Aggression raised his left arm with a crooked, jagged, pointing finger at her - a more passionate color flashing into his eyes. "You think... mortal men can save you...? Nothing. Can. Save. You."
In a sudden beat, his wings shot down towards the ground and errupted the dirt of the chaos into a fog of brown that covered nearly the entire vicinity. In seconds, through the lack of visibility, his clawed hand wrapped around the woman's waist before he lifted her and chucked her through the air. Why not? It would only make the speaker and god's job harder! Her body flew against the black-haired man that vowed himself to try and protect the people of his wonderful.. green.. honorable nation as their 'shield'. "On your knees, human scum!"
color: 877797 Shin of GS + Adox
|
|
|
Post by Septem on Jul 24, 2014 7:29:36 GMT -6
- 'RISE' - "I'll be your salvation. If you refuse? I'll send you to Hell" The heaven’s opened up as rain as think and as red as blood stained the earth. Dark clouds crashed together causing a thunderous sound as lightening clawed out like a web across the sky. Red irises scouted the arena, an arena that was turned into a battlefield. A deep hummed escaped her throat, it was laced with a kind of greed mixed with lust for destruction and chaos.
“I am the orchestrator of my own destruction.”
She sat still upon the stone pillar, her thick thighs crossed and her body leaning over to see what her chaos was causing. No one had het to challenge her, she thought that Orik - the dragon God would however Aggression seemed to have the all the fun.
“For it is I who reins down fire on my own temple.”
Watching the god, getting a closer look at him in action she could sense it – the doubt, the pain, the fury and the anger. She purred deep in her throat as her red velvet eyes dissected his every move and every emotion that she felt through them. Her lips curling into a grin as he boomed orders to those who pledge to him. A woman though did catch her eye, a witch of the sea it seems – a healer and the bitch of Dym. Septem chuckled for she felt the revenge and hatred seep from the female but that was about all the attention she gave her.
“And it is I who salts the earth so the seeds of good intentions will never grow.”
Aggression and her creatures seemed to have a handle on the destruction but it didn’t mean that Septem herself wouldn’t join the fray. Quite the contrary for as she watched she found something that very much displeased her. One of her pets being made quick work of by a so called champion of good. She frowned and lifted her body up, her form straightening as she stood atop the pillar. Wind gathered around her form as she stepped off the pillar – dark mist and electrical charges surrounded her body as she floated down. The space around her body distorted and she became a blur of movement as she slowly fell to the ground.
“When the turmoil on the inside is hidden by the calm exterior.”
Her form vanished in a dark mass only to reappear before the man that destroyed her pet on his own. Her lips close to his ear as she froze his body with a touch of her finger on his chest. The remnants of darkness dancing about her form as the vision of her body cleared and her form solidified into reality once again.
“It is I who tears down the beautiful façade to reveal the churning black poison underneath.”
Her words were whispered into his ear, a purr as her breath caressed his skin with the aim to raise his senses in that area. It was then that she stepped back from his form, with a flick of her finger and a wink, his body was released from her hold as another body collided with his. The two tangled together as they hit the ground and Septem herself chuckled. “Oh I guess he spotted you too.” She grinned as she moved, her body stalking its way over to the two people. Lowering her body she reached out to the woman, her fingers tracing under her chin as she forced her to look up into her read eyes. “At least this one has a sense of preservation. I like that.” Septem smiled as she stood up. As she did the bodies of the other two floated up beside her. “Orik.” She called to the God, her lips pouting slightly as she spoke. “Play a game?” She grinned as her wrist flicked and the man and woman flew up above the arena and heading out into the forest beyond. She didn’t know where they would rest when the momentum of her energy flicked them through the air. “Catch!”
Shin of GS + Adox
|
|
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2014 8:19:49 GMT -6
This is what it's like--resentment, tried and true. She felt it then, and it was all directed towards that damnable dragon, the speaker: how DARE they. She was in danger, now, a danger that would hurt her if she weren't careful, and Helen could feel her face slipping into a mask of fury: one fisted hand swung into the air and she was about to shout a command for them to focus on the people fighting the monsters. Destroy it all. Domhan Tir is weak, it is weak with a spot the size of a goddamn mile upon the back to strike.
But then a hand, massive, grabbed, and Helen grunted, her hands digging--
Her body was launched through the air and Helen felt a searing rage inside of her. If it killed her to do so, she would tear this pathetic place apart. There was no time for real thought, just the thrumming hatefeel that surged through her, because she was smashed against a man.
Helen felt something give inside of her and grunt-cried, tried to get her hands beneath her. The woman surged up in a rush of fury, trying to get at the man she' been thrown against, but...
There, instead, rippling in her ear, was the voice:
At least this one has a sense of preservation. I like that.
Helen stared at her, her teeth showing in a wolf-like smirk, her throat working furiously: "More where that came from, I promise you that much." Then again she was flying, but this time there was nobody to land agaisnt. Helen screamed when her body slammed against a tree--
Popping, snapping, inside of her.
She slid down, breathing raggedly, trying, trying to stand, standing, slipping in her own blood--the chest wound was broken open. "F-fuck--" Helen snarled, her head twisted. Breathing came hollow, pained, her broken arm folded against her carefully. Bone was protruding from her skin--
She needed to be healed. Helen grunted low and hobbled, until she found a suitable place where rubble was enough. "You lot!" Helen growl-moaned, her mind shooting white with pain for a moment, "H-help me atop this. Get up on the arena walls--inside, there's a mess, a monster fighting monsters. Some of them are taking on the shapes of humans!"
A blatant lie.
But then again, Helen was furious.
"Take whatever you can find. Throw them down on ANYONE fighting below--" Helen leaned against a broad-shouldered man, wheezed in pain. She whined. Weakness in these gods. "H-here, get that rock, there, yes, throw it at the--the --the blonde in the dress. THE BLONDE IN THE FLORAL DRESS! THE ONE WITH THE BLUE EYES! She's one of them-!" And the rubble rained down.
Helen smiled, teeth clenched tight.
She hoped Domhan Tir burned. With the use of her gun, she could have ended this much faster.
Your country is weak, Orik. That's why she picked it. Superiority doesn't matter when all you have are swords--two people with guns would have torn this whole place apart.
|
|
|
Post by Orik on Jul 28, 2014 6:39:57 GMT -6
Orik felt his hands were tied in this situation. He had very little in the way of option for what he could do. There were too many possible casualties... and he didn't intend to injure them... but even so...
The thing he knew would happen soon did. The monster and her foul pet picked up two humans and flung them into the air... one of them was not within Orik's range even as he stretched his neck and bellowed in disapproval at the treatment of the humans. But the woman's reaching for his shield follower was interceptable... however, she was, surprisingly, faster on the move than he was in this form... and she was far closer.
So what she lacks in pure energy and strength... she makes up for in intensity and speed...
He darted to the side, wings wide and ready to catch Tristan. As he did, he heard the Zhadrahni bitch call to her dogs in the lowest excuse for bullying he'd ever heard and he bellowed out a great roar that shook the very foundations with his rage. The bitch dared to challenge his authority? A human bitch dared to challenge his rule of Declare War on No Creature?!
"I AM DOMHAN TIR! I AM THE MOUNTAINS, THE TREES, THE RIVERS AND THE STORMS! I WILL NOT BE RUN DOWN AND CORNERED! AND NEITHER WILL MY PEOPLE!"
His great eye glowed green over the girl in the flowered dress and instantly a tree sprung up with great branches to protect her from behind, it's roots digging deep in a circle, but there were holes she could climb under should she need to escape. Then great thorns sprung out from the bark of the tree like moss in the direction of the foul bitch, a warning to her and hers of his own waning tolerance. As the Shield slid down from his wing and to the ground, the ground began to shake violently and spikes of earth like small mountains began springing up from the sand to attack the shadowy creatures from beneath, one of the spikes coming up directly at Aggression.
Inhaling a deep, ragged breath that filled his diaphragm, Orik glared into the bleeding colored eyes of Septem, deep voice echoing through the shambles of an arena even as he didn't physically speak.
"...I Deny You Entry Into My Domain... BEGONE!" And when he released his breath, a lighting barrage of blue flame and star fire so bright the day looked dark. The mountains springing up from the ground allowed him the possibility of protecting the sensitive mortals below from the divine magic... but only if they did not venture to rebel against his protection... And Neviah... Hopefully she was doing well... Orik could no longer pinpoint her in the chaos that enveloped his vision.
"YOU ARE NO RIVAL OF MINE!"
WORDS: 464 TAGGED: Domhan Tir MADE BY SIRIUS OF GANGNAM STYLE
|
|
|
Post by Gareth MacKay on Aug 4, 2014 8:59:10 GMT -6
The beast was distracted. Another warrior had baited the creature out and away from Gareth. He rose to his feet, bandages covered in the creature’s viscous blood. A black war fresco painted with random precision. His once off-white face bandages were a sickly deep gray and Gareth could smell the creature’s being quite clearly. It stunk of death and vengeance and anger and he knew the smell all too well so he began tearing at his face like a meth addict in withdraw. The bandages became coming loose and finally he tore them off and his head emerged from his cocoon very publicly. He could not bear the smell clouding so much. His skin was pale and glistened with smeared sweat.
The girl who shot lightning had thrown the creature against a wall—how, he didn’t know. It wasn’t important. All that mattered was him killing this thing. He would. He had to kill it. It fumbled around blinded by the loss of its blood. Hanging on to its artificial existence feebly and pointlessly. He would survive today. He would see tomorrow because he was stronger than this thing—never mind his help. This would be his kill. He paid no attention to Septem or Aggression or the flying Zhadrahni or anything else outside of his tunnel vision. Even Orik was beyond his focus.
His sword was in-between the creature and him. Gareth sheathed his knife in a shell of scabbard and black fluid and he picked up his sword. He held it in both hands in front of himself. “I’m going to shove this sword so far up its ass its words are going to have to tiptoe past my grip. I’ll be damned if I’m running from this thing,” Gareth grunted to Miyoku. Through the scars his face seemed young. His eyes seemed old but his voice seemed young as well and the angry ignorance of youth betrayed his words’ age as well.
Gareth smelled its blood again and bared his teeth. He tried his hardest but his mouth began contorting into a violent grin that sharpened his canines. He starting running then galloping and then fully sprinting at the creature while it was regaining its ability to move. Dripping with its own blood. Limping from the injuries already imposed. He could feel puppet strings being pulled from the barbarous behemoth behind him but he didn’t care. If only this thing had died before it had made him feel weak, then perhaps he would not have felt this way. But it had made him powerless for a moment and he was determined to erase that moment by erasing this creature. Gareth swung his sword at the creature. The beast was fast but it was not as fast as it had been and so its hand fruitlessly attempted to grab his blade before it had reached its neck. Each knife wound had weakened the interstitial tissue for his sword. The rubbery skin that once deflected blades had no choice but to accept his steel. Its head violently whipped against his sword’s motion and then back with it, knocking its vision into a spiral. He chopped again. He screamed as he released the weakness that he had felt early. He chopped a third time. The creature’s head held on by a few inches of skin and flipped around like a loose lighter cap as he was slicing through it. The black fluid oozed out from a loose artery like a geyser spewing corn syrup. It whispered an unintelligible moan. No more than the last remnants of ephemeral breath escaping its mortal prison. Gareth brought his sword back across his body for the final strike. This creature would be decapitated for no other reason than to see its head roll in the dust and blood.
A nascent peak erupted from the ground beneath the creature and crucified it. The sharpened stone moved up from between the legs and through the body and reappeared up out of neck like an ersatz face. Spouting tendrils of flesh and blood. They rained down for a fleeting moment around the area. Its body hung limp and lifeless from the giant stone spear in effigy to his bloodlust. Gareth got up and screamed into the clouded skies like a prayer to an absent god. That was his kill. He was robbed. He turned around and looked for a culprit or scapegoat or just something else to beat. His deranged eyes looked over at Aggression. He knew that something about his presence only exacerbated his anger into hedonistic frenzy. That had to be it. That hulking mass of ugly flesh and obscene being. He robbed him of his kill and enslaved Gareth to his own anger and he would kill him for it.
Orik released his holy fire and Gareth had refused to stand behind any cover. The sight was something marvelous. Holy rage crystallized. The sight was also blinding. Even the sun seemed only a small spark flickering in the face of Orik’s breath. Even though Gareth only received a glimpse it was more than enough to send him reeling backwards. He stumbled around trying to reclaim his vision by rubbing his eyes with hand and dirt. Black spots blinked. In. Out. Slowly fading away revealing the scene and the carnage in front of him and Gareth could not help but feel powerless again. But he was not pinned down by an inferior creature; he was emasculated by a vastly superior power. A purifying power.
He would not feel weak again. He would not feel powerless again. Sparks flew around Gareth and he ran towards Aggression who sat doubled over and pinned to the ground by Orik's earthen tether. His body began erupting into flames as if he sweat gasoline. "I'm going to kill you. I'm going to melt down your metal and throw your charred flesh down into the sewers for the rats to eat." His clothes became redundant as a cloak of orange and white fire coated Gareth, fueled by his pure hatred for the thing. His back sprouted two stumps of fire that seemed malformed bones or wings or some alien limb. He didn't care if it was righteous or not. Justification was inconsequential. It had become his birthright to lop off Aggression's head.
There he sat, slumped over like an animal caught in a trap trying fruitlessly to escape. He was an idiot. Gareth's sword became an extension of his fire and he aimed it at Aggression indiscriminately. Like a child who discovered fire. He aimed at empty skin and exposed dermis and metal armor alike. He would burn this creature in his own holy fire and in the ashes Gareth would find peace. Brynne's fire. He would be her left hand by proxy.
Aggression's skin did not buckle too much at Gareth's inferior fire. But his battle scars defeated themselves. His skin began to smoke as the metal heated red then orange then white in a violent rainbow and Gareth kept sending his fire upon them. He could see the nascent bubbles of burning flesh around the metal and he could smell its unholy meat cook but Gareth only inhaled deeper. Aggression let loose a shrieking wail like a predator who had realized he had finally become prey. Who realized the futility of hunting this particular quarry. It was mournful and painful but most of all it was the grunt of something that was too stupid to save itself. Aggression slid deeper onto Orik's pillar. The ant would kill the god.
OOC: Permission given by Red to lightly describe Aggression's reaction. |
|
|
|
Post by Allen Kierser on Aug 6, 2014 23:08:12 GMT -6
The lovely little sunbeams are dancing everywhere I’m letting in the sunshine for both of us to share
Some guardian shield had murdered one of the infernal pestilences and that left...four? Three? His glasses had gotten splattered with blood in the last few minutes, the crimson liquid intermittently catching the light, and it was making it difficult to focus. And then there was the water...honestly, it just drew his attention away from the fighting completely. It went to people - grievously injured and some merely wounded, but those to lesser degree - and it fucking frustrated because he couldn't understand how it worked. Using his gift brought no further comprehension and after trying to figure how the ability worked for a half-minute he gave it up (at least for the time being, he'd wonder later). He watched one burst over a woman near him; the wound closed alright, around the jagged edge of a rib protruding from her shirt. Ick. Keeping a careful eye on the events around him, and on the confused creature (currently tearing at loose, dying skin, so great), he slunk over to the woman. Secure that she wasn't cognizant enough to retain any memory of his face, he pushed her shirt just over the broken rib. Open, compound fracture. Ouch. Allen reset the bone, having persuaded her skin to open again. It fit neatly in her chest; the water was assisting - how, goddammit, he sighed and let it go - with the damage to her lung. He patted her on the shoulder, adjusting her shirt so it covered her stomach. "You'll be just fine, assuming those monsters don't kill us all." he said. He crouched back on his heels, attempting to follow the action. The rag-tag ensemble of gifted were gaining ground, what he might call a tentative upper hand if not for that the main threats were still breathing even. Must be their version of live theater. And - oh! Great, they had deigned to speak again. Allen was really beginning to appreciate their eloquence, the clear care in the way they spoke, the utter modesty. The woman being thrown was truly the cherry on top, a testament to the sheer class of the false gods. The bleach-white flare of pain caught his attention; the woman, the one from Zhadrah. Not beyond his reach to sense, and if she were inclined to come closer, back into the stadium maybe, but her location was fuzzy. Well, her injury wasn't going to kill her. Debilitate her in the future, sure, if she didn't find a talented doctor. Disrespecting the country like that, however. Orik reacted with an...appropriate? amount of outrage. Allen couldn't definitely say either way. Miniscule peaks were interesting in theory and made him slightly nauseous to watch them erupt in reality - a latent vertigo triggered by the eight-hundred (he was being fucking conservative with that estimate) things going on around him? The death of a creature, its unfamiliar blood still blood enough, served to ground him, reminded him to be wary of the other monster slinking in the background, only to be blurred by the firey man and the pulse of pain and the rush of neurotransmitters like clouds of gnats. Dying was always a flurry of activity in Allen's perspective and this time, it seemed like others could at least see a glimpse of that, Aggression wildly struggling. Seeing as that particular problem was being dealt with by people that were decidedly not him, thank fortune, Allen sought out the creature he'd altered. Rock pierced through its upper arm, adding to the pool of black blood that it was crouched. Immobilized for a moment. He'd little doubt the damn thing would tear its arm clean off to escape in seconds.
|
|
|
Post by Neviah Athen on Aug 21, 2014 10:58:26 GMT -6
Around her the arena shifted with Orik's hand at work when he made the same rise up from the ground as if a floating island. Great. Nevah couldn't focus on the fact she knew she was above regular ground but had this been any other time she'd be freaking out over the fact, seeing as the woman suffered from a case of vertigo.
The girl gritted her teeth as she held the staff in her hands and gritted her teeth. As much as she needed to keep her composure her emotions were a chaotic mess of feelings and pain. Her hands reached for her hair, slowly pushing a few threads of hair out from in front of her eyes before she let out a deep sigh. Dym was gone and she was going to get revenge one way or another.
This was it. Her mission to help the injured mattered more now but even so Neviah needed to let out a scream for what happened at some point. After all of this was done she would retreat to the confines of her home. Now however, she would look down at the crack that she had opened on the ground and slowly placed her staff back in. A rather odd motion but as she did so the staff would start to once again pull water from the underground yet again, there she was doing her thing.
This was going to be draining on the speaker. Letting her energies pour in she cause water to spurt out again and this time the same would envelope her staff and her form for a moment before her eyes flashed open and she gritted her teeth. The water would then shape itself and flew out towards the same creature Gareth was targeting. The water was highly pressurized and worked like a high velocity jet stream, aimed at the creature with high velocity and precision.
|
|
|
Post by Sylas Sage on Aug 21, 2014 21:39:14 GMT -6
The newcomer that joined the fray had a most strange power and as she seemed to be charging an attack of some kind, Sylas felt a strange power pulling at something in the air he couldn't see. It looked almost as if she was draining the electricity from the ground..? If that made sense. What did make sense was the beast flying toward the wall as if pushed by some strange force. She addressed him, and he was enraged. He felt like it she saw him only as a burden who couldn't protect himself. He clenched his teeth in anger, rising from the ground. He would not be looked down upon.
Orik's wrath called forth spiked mountains from the ground, one of which impaled the beast and the bandaged man seemed to go into a fury.Orik stole his kill. He charged the beast swinging relentlessly at its head. Cleaving with murderous intent and all Sylas could do was watch wide-eyed.. Was this pity for the beast? No, the beast seemed not to have a soul of its own. What Sylas was taken back by was the shear HATRED behind the blows of that man. Hatred fueling a man to do something Sylas had not known it was in a man to do. His wrath made him become a monster on the battlefield.
He turned his face. Even though, he didn't agree with the man's choice to let anger overcome him ,this needed to be done to ensure the safety of all these innocent people here. Sylas looked around at the chaos of the situation. He was of no use here anymore, he had to be needed somewhere else. He ran across the arena and something caught his eye. The woman, who he assumed was the speaker of Aquavia due to her semi-godly presence, was doing something strange with her staff and she seemed to draw water from the ground and envelop her form with it. She seemed to will the water to do her bidding and sent it forward with alarming power. An idea dawned on the young swordsman. Water was a conductor of electricity. The attack was fast, so he had to draw power within him quickly. He closed his eyes and gave in to his rage and feeling of uselessness from before. When his eyes open again, they'd be glowing emerald. Lightning burst to life around his form sending up dust and causing the sound of minor thunder. He focused all the energy he could muster in the short time to his right arm where it spiraled down his arm and gathered on his palm. He aimed at the stream of water and released the wrath of the storm from his finger tips. Vibrant, white-hot streaks of electricity tore through the atmosphere as if it were made of paper.The light illuminated the dark corners of the battleground and, the audible repercussion of his lightning bounced off the walls of the arena and would cripple the ears of anyone too close.
Although he was a mere human and could not have the power to come close to a speakers, he had hopes that the energies would move together and strike the monstrosity that was Aggression with double the intensity. He had to redeem himself for his previous weakness.
|
|
|
Post by Zero Valentine on Aug 26, 2014 22:37:57 GMT -6
I FEEL THE DARKNESS IN ME TRYING TO TAKE MY SOUL The beast regained its composure, it roared as it looked from her to Ivan – Zero never taking her eyes of it though she was acutely aware of Ivan’s presence next to her that when he whispered words she caught them. With her left arm still close to her ribs she turned slightly to catch his glance at her with a look in his eyes that she wasn’t familiar with. It puzzled her that he looked at her that way and it shocked her even more when he yelled and charged past her. What did he mean? He yelled because she got hurt? Did he really care about her more than just their multiple one night stands? It confused her but she soon shook her head and got rid of the thoughts, regain some composure she actually noticed that her rage had slightly subsided and she was fully back in control – it also meant that the blow to her ribs was beginning to hurt.
She watched him for a second before biting her lip and pushing off her heels, charging in after Ivan. He had planted his feet on the ground and brought his sword up to greet the beast arm – Zero knew this was her chance for it was solely focused on Ivan. She raced passed them both and jumped up on its leg and then onto its back where she dug in her blade just as Ivan hacked through its arm. It reared up in what she could only presume was pain, a pain that she too was feeling in her ribs but she didn’t release her grip on her blade that dug into its back. Ivan shifted then and sliced at the thing, he fist drawing out of the beast with black ooze covering it. There was a muffled roar and it fell to its knee with indicated to Zero that it was time to vacate the things back. She did so swiftly, jumping back from it and watching as Ivan dealt the final fatal blow.
When he turned to face her she was silent, he came towards her and in that moment she wasn’t there in the arena so was somewhere else where only he existed. She could see he was tired and beaten but there he stopped in front of her, his hand reaching to her cheek she was stunned and didn’t move. Talk Staring at him as he turned she had to tear her eyes from his back and then to the area around them. It was a mess, she caught the glimpse of two people who went flying overhead and the woman, that God killer. She stared at her and clenched the hilt of her blade – Zero knew better than to charge her then and there, that demon was no fight she could begin to match in now.
Next thing she knew there was a mighty roar and Zero’s eyes widened as Orik moved the earth to defend and fight at the same time. The larger beast now pinned to the ground and Orik blasting this bright light from his mouth. Zero actually turned to Ivan, he was badly beaten and she wasn’t sure how much more his body could take even if his mind wouldn’t admit it. It was then that she felt the warm sensation of blood on her arm and when she looked down she noted a slice over her skin. Looking in the directing the throwing knife came from she saw a few people charging towards her “What?... Ivan!” She turned to face them, they weren’t monsters at all, they were people.
notes:Killed creature 4 with Ivan - Zero is no longer edging on rage
|
|