Aidan's smirk grew, as he took a swig from his flask. Fire? Not something to bother him, it was but a tool to bolster and strengthen him. Oh his body was a mass of pain to be sure, acid would do that, but what was pain?
He walked toward metal man, and as he did, every spark of the flames around he gathered, concentrate in the palm of his hand. Aidan was mad, but that came with paranoia. He flicked the fireball away, striking the airborne door, and blowing it away, far off it's path. this was no time to be distracted worrying about getting hit in the head by that thing.
"Of course you read my soul. We are kindred spirits. Fire and steel. Bound by pain. Dance with me my brother."
They brawled. Trading punch with smug grin, and arrogant amused smirk. Maddening laughter erupting from both their throats. There was no class, no technique, no strategy, they were to madmen punching each other face in.
"You seem to be leaking. Let me fix that for you."
Aidan grabbed Metal man's amputated arm, now akin to a flamethrower that shot acid that was on fire. ( Reminder to self, AWESOME idea.)
One quick strike, and he mangle and shattered whatever else was in that forearm, also collapsing the "veins" while he was at it. Oh sure, metal man broke his ribs as the same time, but that was about when Aidan decided to see who's face was hard and headbutted the man of metal. Then he did it again. Then again, and again, and again, again, again, and again. Bleeding, his blood boiling he smashed his head into metal man's face with reckless abandon. The shaking and quivering amplified, and became truly noticeble.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Aidan took a swig from his flask, and casually kicked the mass of Ki and dragonfire away as he got up. Why bother even trying hard for such a simple task. He chuckled as he hopped up, and looked at inferno ever so high and mighty in the skies.
"You say a few years to master a skill that takes a lifetime? That is the attitude I expect from an arrogant fool as yourself." He spat at the ground. His saliva sizzling on the stone beneath his feet. "You think yourself high, and mighty and speak of heritage. Let me tell you of mine."
Aidan laughed. The laughter of a man that had lost his sanity long ago, or rather one that had discarded it. "I. Am. Human. The weakest of races. Short lived, clumsy, weak, and stupid. Born of commoner, from generation to generation, I am an insect before you highness. "
He bowed, Mockingly. His laughter uninterrupted by his word, reverberating deep withing the volcano. He was arrogant this one, and was far from afraid to show it.
"I cannot be match, I am unsurpassed, untouchable, unconquerable, unkillable, indestructible, invincible. Many time have I heard these words. By champions the so called great race, by being of pure power as old as the worlds, by the gods themselves. I have matched, surpassed, touched, conquered, killed, destroyed and vinced them all. I am Aidan Dreiks. Today, I will be you undoing. You should be more careful, after all, you said it yourself, I fight dirty ."
Inferno felt something for a moment, and then the world went black with pain.He had absorbed magma. Rock, heated and melted by Aidan's hand. By Aidan's fire, Aidan's Ki. Having said force explosivly rip itself from the dragon's flesh way a simple matter.
Aidan reached down, and forged. It was a simple matter was such nice strong material provided by Inferno. Now blind inferno had to rely on his other senses. Hearing was a gamble. The volcano churned, and blazed filling the air with loud ambient noise. Aidan was unmoving and silent except for that laughter, that crazed guffaw filling the air further hampering the dragon blooded's hearing. Scent? Pointless with so much sulfur and volcanic gas. Even if that sense was strong enough, he would not get anything by the smell of alcohol off the shirtless man. A scent that was everywhere.
Taste? Now that was just silly. Touch? Well that was hard with him in the air and Aidan way down there. Could he feel the heat the raw fire of the man below? That was his best shot, to aim for that mass of heat, enough to melt the solid back into a workable form.
So he did, gathering a great amount of Ki, and infusing his powerful dragon fire. The wave of sheer power that erupted Blew apart where Aidan was with ease. The hole were he had stood some time ago was immense, a full half of the stone platform destroyed.
"Nothing could have survived that." He breathed out, his strength momentously drained.
"Oh? Did I not mention survive the unsurvivable? My bad." Aidan chuckled from behind him.
Chains of the strongest alloy possible wrapped around inferno's neck, pinned his arms, legs tail, wing together and immobilized him. The purest iron, the strongest carbon, and mythical metals dragged from the very core of the world, heated, fused, combined, molded, and tempered to perfection.
More so then the durability and hardness, was how they felt. Cold. Even in the heat, even with inferno struggling to free himself by strength and fire, they were cold. As the land and it's king worked to heat the chains, Aidan cooled them just as, if not quicker. He fell, and Aidan held on for the ride. His grip on the chains unshakable. Inferno could no right himself, could not adjust his flight, and would fall straight into the magma below, the smaller man was strangely effective weight. As Aidan's laughter continued to reverberated, he whispered into Inferno's ear the moment before they were to strike the world blood.
"I can hold my breath a really long time. How about you?"
The Tournament of Red Lions: Commencement (Round 1)
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Inferno Dragon
- Member
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- Location: Planet Draco
- Has thanked: 1 time
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ooc: you just pissed him off by calling him arrogant.
as they plummited towards the magma below Inferno simply smirked.
"you think too highly of yourself for such a dishonorable fighter. if you weren't such a coward you'd face me head on with no regrets and no dirty tricks. I don't consider myself high and mighty, by my heritage, I meant my mixed dragon and saiyan blood that flows through my veins, not my royal background. that is the furthest thing from my mind when I refer to my skills as a fighter. some things came naturally to me, but many things required many years, even decades of non-stop training, many sorrows, and much bloodshed. I was not handed my gifts, I earned my right to use these skills of mine, my mixed blood made a few things slightly easier, but everything I have learned has come with a heavy price that I have had to pay. I never asked for anything that has happend to me, but fate has forced me time and again to defend my world from warlords, zealots, demons, invaders, monsters of every kind, villains, dark entities and even my uncle on a DAILY basis. I am REQUIRED to be strong to defend my home, this world, from the darkness that constantly tries to take it for it's own. you speak as if you know me, but you know NOTHING!"
the two hit the lava and begin sinking deeper and deeper into the fires of hell's forge. with an explosion of power the chains disintagrate and Aidan is forced off of Inferno. his sipkey crimson hair stands strait up and turns golden, his eyes fade from amber to aqua, a golden aura surrounds him as the magma around the two has been forced outwards creating an air bubble in the magma chamber. Inferno's eyesight has returned from the planet's magma and feels rejuvinated, but his wounds remain unattended.
"this world is rejecting you! and I will ensure that you leave my home PERMANANTLY! I won't hold back any longer!"
as Inferno says this hell's forge remains at least 5,000 degrees and only getting hotter despite Aidan's powers.if it weren't for their shared mastery over fire they would have instantly incinerated before even hitting the magma. Inferno attempts to blast aidan with a ki blast but he easily dodges the ball of energy, grabbing a glob of magma from the edge of the air bubble and attempted to blind inferno yet again, smacking it into his eyes and flash cooling it. but as soon as it is cooled the rock melts into magma again falling back into the magma flow around them.
"your tricks won't work down here."
Inferno draws his katana, the blade surprisingly unaffected by the heat and in one swift movement Aidan's flask of alcohol is cut in two and a deep gash has appeared across his chest as Inferno sheaths his blade.
"if I'm having to feel the pain, you're gonna sober up and endure the pain with me. you have at least six to eight broken ribs and a deep gash across your chest, not to mention those deep scrapes on your back and the massive bruises I gave you from my initial attack. when the alcohol wears off, you're gonna feel it all at once, you'll be lucky if you don't pass out from it."
Inferno then takes a very familiar stance, his hands to his right side, posed as if holding a ball in a semi-crouching position as he began charging a bright ball of blue ki energy that tinted the magma around the two combatants a hugh of purple in its light. Inferno will refuse to break this stance even if he must endure even more pain than he was already in.
"ka...me..."
as they plummited towards the magma below Inferno simply smirked.
"you think too highly of yourself for such a dishonorable fighter. if you weren't such a coward you'd face me head on with no regrets and no dirty tricks. I don't consider myself high and mighty, by my heritage, I meant my mixed dragon and saiyan blood that flows through my veins, not my royal background. that is the furthest thing from my mind when I refer to my skills as a fighter. some things came naturally to me, but many things required many years, even decades of non-stop training, many sorrows, and much bloodshed. I was not handed my gifts, I earned my right to use these skills of mine, my mixed blood made a few things slightly easier, but everything I have learned has come with a heavy price that I have had to pay. I never asked for anything that has happend to me, but fate has forced me time and again to defend my world from warlords, zealots, demons, invaders, monsters of every kind, villains, dark entities and even my uncle on a DAILY basis. I am REQUIRED to be strong to defend my home, this world, from the darkness that constantly tries to take it for it's own. you speak as if you know me, but you know NOTHING!"
the two hit the lava and begin sinking deeper and deeper into the fires of hell's forge. with an explosion of power the chains disintagrate and Aidan is forced off of Inferno. his sipkey crimson hair stands strait up and turns golden, his eyes fade from amber to aqua, a golden aura surrounds him as the magma around the two has been forced outwards creating an air bubble in the magma chamber. Inferno's eyesight has returned from the planet's magma and feels rejuvinated, but his wounds remain unattended.
"this world is rejecting you! and I will ensure that you leave my home PERMANANTLY! I won't hold back any longer!"
as Inferno says this hell's forge remains at least 5,000 degrees and only getting hotter despite Aidan's powers.if it weren't for their shared mastery over fire they would have instantly incinerated before even hitting the magma. Inferno attempts to blast aidan with a ki blast but he easily dodges the ball of energy, grabbing a glob of magma from the edge of the air bubble and attempted to blind inferno yet again, smacking it into his eyes and flash cooling it. but as soon as it is cooled the rock melts into magma again falling back into the magma flow around them.
"your tricks won't work down here."
Inferno draws his katana, the blade surprisingly unaffected by the heat and in one swift movement Aidan's flask of alcohol is cut in two and a deep gash has appeared across his chest as Inferno sheaths his blade.
"if I'm having to feel the pain, you're gonna sober up and endure the pain with me. you have at least six to eight broken ribs and a deep gash across your chest, not to mention those deep scrapes on your back and the massive bruises I gave you from my initial attack. when the alcohol wears off, you're gonna feel it all at once, you'll be lucky if you don't pass out from it."
Inferno then takes a very familiar stance, his hands to his right side, posed as if holding a ball in a semi-crouching position as he began charging a bright ball of blue ki energy that tinted the magma around the two combatants a hugh of purple in its light. Inferno will refuse to break this stance even if he must endure even more pain than he was already in.
"ka...me..."
beware the power of Bahamut\'s eldest son.
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LOOT
- Banned
- Posts: 22937
- Joined: Mon May 28, 2001 1:00 am
- Location: full time jail
OoC: Man, I'm rusty.
Fear... the conqueror of men. So long as human kind has doubts, they too shall know fear. So long as men know fear, their future will remain a mystery. Will it cause mankind to descend into madness? Or shall it drive them to their greatest of glory in an attempt to best the dreaded feeling? Then again, it could very well cause kingdoms to stay confined in their own area for safety, or drive them in arrogance to their own downfall.
About a hundred feet above the base of a mountain, a small settlement was suddenly thrown into a loop. Consisting of a few hundred of people, this area proved to go against the norm of human population and location. Was it for this reason that chaos suddenly erupted amongst the people? No one there would pay a second as their minds were suddenly rushed with madness, fear, and pain. Windows shattered as bodies were flung out, doors smashed into twine as axes and hammers were brought forth. Fights broke out between the young, the old, the men, the women, the children. Blood poured out of the buildings and mixed with the freshly fallen snow.
This small settlement once called Apoc would be wiped from the map of the earth.
As a young man in his twenties suddenly started to slam a thirty year old male with a sledgehammer, blood and bone scattering across the snow ground, a figure, out of nowhere, was standing behind the hammer wielder. The young man froze, his pupils suddenly shrinking. That feeling... no, it cannot dominate his mind. He twisted his body to the left to face the force that appeared behind him and brought the sledge to a full swing, hoping to connect with the head and kill the stranger, in revenge for suddenly startling him.
He hit nothing.
Then, he hit the floor. Or, at least the man's top torso did.
For the few brief seconds he had left, the young man attempted to look around for his assailant. His view obscured by blood and his once black leather jacket, he was unable to see much. After glancing back at the older man he fell earlier, however, his view fell on what could not have been male or female.
White hair... a red cape... black chain mail... And a giant scythe.
The man's vision faded.
The new being took only a second to assess the situation in his mind. There was little doubt that an alien force caused this village to go mad. The mysterious being took several steps toward the center of the town, wading through a half inch of newly fallen snow mixed with fallen blood. He estimated the number of living people went from 268 to 71. The dark figure gritted his teeth in anger. What sick mind would get a kick out of such genocide? There will be retribution.
No human, beast, or whatever is allowed to invoke the powers of the angels. The angel of Madness will not be pleased with this.
The cloaked being looked to his right, his eyes glowing red, showing no sign of human eyes. His eyes caught sign of a figure not amongst the chaotic people. "My name is Fear. I have come for thee."
Fear... the conqueror of men. So long as human kind has doubts, they too shall know fear. So long as men know fear, their future will remain a mystery. Will it cause mankind to descend into madness? Or shall it drive them to their greatest of glory in an attempt to best the dreaded feeling? Then again, it could very well cause kingdoms to stay confined in their own area for safety, or drive them in arrogance to their own downfall.
About a hundred feet above the base of a mountain, a small settlement was suddenly thrown into a loop. Consisting of a few hundred of people, this area proved to go against the norm of human population and location. Was it for this reason that chaos suddenly erupted amongst the people? No one there would pay a second as their minds were suddenly rushed with madness, fear, and pain. Windows shattered as bodies were flung out, doors smashed into twine as axes and hammers were brought forth. Fights broke out between the young, the old, the men, the women, the children. Blood poured out of the buildings and mixed with the freshly fallen snow.
This small settlement once called Apoc would be wiped from the map of the earth.
As a young man in his twenties suddenly started to slam a thirty year old male with a sledgehammer, blood and bone scattering across the snow ground, a figure, out of nowhere, was standing behind the hammer wielder. The young man froze, his pupils suddenly shrinking. That feeling... no, it cannot dominate his mind. He twisted his body to the left to face the force that appeared behind him and brought the sledge to a full swing, hoping to connect with the head and kill the stranger, in revenge for suddenly startling him.
He hit nothing.
Then, he hit the floor. Or, at least the man's top torso did.
For the few brief seconds he had left, the young man attempted to look around for his assailant. His view obscured by blood and his once black leather jacket, he was unable to see much. After glancing back at the older man he fell earlier, however, his view fell on what could not have been male or female.
White hair... a red cape... black chain mail... And a giant scythe.
The man's vision faded.
The new being took only a second to assess the situation in his mind. There was little doubt that an alien force caused this village to go mad. The mysterious being took several steps toward the center of the town, wading through a half inch of newly fallen snow mixed with fallen blood. He estimated the number of living people went from 268 to 71. The dark figure gritted his teeth in anger. What sick mind would get a kick out of such genocide? There will be retribution.
No human, beast, or whatever is allowed to invoke the powers of the angels. The angel of Madness will not be pleased with this.
The cloaked being looked to his right, his eyes glowing red, showing no sign of human eyes. His eyes caught sign of a figure not amongst the chaotic people. "My name is Fear. I have come for thee."
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Vapor
- Member
- Posts: 5156
- Joined: Tue Oct 25, 2005 1:00 am
- Location: WHERE IT'S AT
- Contact:
OoC: He's the fourth bio down in this post, if you want an idea of the range of his abilities. Its strategy is to move quickly and with agility, but has a weakness in not adapting well to odd environments or fighters.
OoC 2: Also, does your guy have a name? that'd be pretty useful. so would a bio, if it exists
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The White Gear saw no difference in the bricks with his cyclopean electronic eye. But it still didn't want to get hit, so instead of deflecting, it dropped- simply dropped, its wheel-feet rolling out from under him and letting it fall on its back as the bricks flew over it. It swiftly regained composure, with another flick of the wheels returning it to an upright position.
however, it didn't expect the man running up and grabbing onto its shoulder with both hands. This did not seem to be the optimal move in a duel of hand to hand combat, because
Gear's alien metal provided some sort of sturdiness against most flames and heat, but the attacker's heat was intense enough to break its tolerance threshold. The (normally) elegant translucent metal had become molten, and then hardened, rendering most movement of Gears right arm useless. it threw the Gearsword to its left hand, and moved towards the pile. The human who controlled energy heard, in his mind, a mechanized voice:
<<My lust for war is great, and ever-growing. will It be sated with your fervent competition?>>
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OoC 3: Yeah, a mute character is actually really hard and boring to write, so I just pulled telepathy out of nowhere because it kinda almost makes sense with the character's story... This'll make it better. I hope.
OoC 2: Also, does your guy have a name? that'd be pretty useful. so would a bio, if it exists
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The White Gear saw no difference in the bricks with his cyclopean electronic eye. But it still didn't want to get hit, so instead of deflecting, it dropped- simply dropped, its wheel-feet rolling out from under him and letting it fall on its back as the bricks flew over it. It swiftly regained composure, with another flick of the wheels returning it to an upright position.
however, it didn't expect the man running up and grabbing onto its shoulder with both hands. This did not seem to be the optimal move in a duel of hand to hand combat, because
- It puts the attacker within very close range of the opponent.
- Most likely, the attacker won't be able to rip the arm off.
- And Long-range, traditional attacks would be more efficient.
Gear's alien metal provided some sort of sturdiness against most flames and heat, but the attacker's heat was intense enough to break its tolerance threshold. The (normally) elegant translucent metal had become molten, and then hardened, rendering most movement of Gears right arm useless. it threw the Gearsword to its left hand, and moved towards the pile. The human who controlled energy heard, in his mind, a mechanized voice:
<<My lust for war is great, and ever-growing. will It be sated with your fervent competition?>>
------------------------
OoC 3: Yeah, a mute character is actually really hard and boring to write, so I just pulled telepathy out of nowhere because it kinda almost makes sense with the character's story... This'll make it better. I hope.
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Repster
- Member
- Posts: 6130
- Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: J'tun ostie d'Acadien.
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X-3
- Member
- Posts: 24173
- Joined: Wed Jan 28, 2004 2:00 am
- Location: noiɈɒɔo⅃
- Has thanked: 1 time
- Been thanked: 218 times
OoC: I've been without internet for a few days, so I haven't been able to check in. Sorry, Guild, I'll get onto my post.
---
"Hello...brother!" the stranger shouted, before beginning to chuckle.
"You...I remember you! In the restaurants!" Chef Ramsay held his ground, and tightened his grip on the frying pan.
The stranger was draped in a strange, blood-stained cloak that covered his shadowy features. It was impossible to see what colors this cloak had been in the past. For a second, he seemed a bit taken aback by what the Chef had said. A moment later, he regained his composure before cackling.
"Hahahahaha! Is that any way to face your younger brooooooother?" the cloaked man pointed a bony, dirty finger with an unusually long nail at Ramsay.
"I...don't have a brother. Not one that exaggerates the word brother like that." Ramsay replied, a frown beginning to form. "I think I served you in one of the many restaurants I worked long and hard to improve!"
The cloaked man sighed.
"...I see. You've been so busy that you have forgotten me." the stranger ripped off his cloak, revealing a dirty-brown decaying body with a scowl on it's face. "My name is Ramses! And you are my brother! I will make you remember that fact with my might!" Ramses rushed at the Chef, readying his long, black and sharp nails to strike.
---
"Hello...brother!" the stranger shouted, before beginning to chuckle.
"You...I remember you! In the restaurants!" Chef Ramsay held his ground, and tightened his grip on the frying pan.
The stranger was draped in a strange, blood-stained cloak that covered his shadowy features. It was impossible to see what colors this cloak had been in the past. For a second, he seemed a bit taken aback by what the Chef had said. A moment later, he regained his composure before cackling.
"Hahahahaha! Is that any way to face your younger brooooooother?" the cloaked man pointed a bony, dirty finger with an unusually long nail at Ramsay.
"I...don't have a brother. Not one that exaggerates the word brother like that." Ramsay replied, a frown beginning to form. "I think I served you in one of the many restaurants I worked long and hard to improve!"
The cloaked man sighed.
"...I see. You've been so busy that you have forgotten me." the stranger ripped off his cloak, revealing a dirty-brown decaying body with a scowl on it's face. "My name is Ramses! And you are my brother! I will make you remember that fact with my might!" Ramses rushed at the Chef, readying his long, black and sharp nails to strike.
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Mushi
- Member
- Posts: 6880
- Joined: Thu Apr 20, 2006 10:54 pm
- Location: In a van down by the river.
- Has thanked: 2 times
- Been thanked: 11 times
OoC: Alright, here goes...
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The people of Apoc were known for their kindness to strangers, though their hospitality could be argued not to be out of genuine love for their fellow man, but the product of a collective paranoia that the wandering traveler could be one of their many worshipped spirits testing their piety. So when the scraggly, dark stranger mysteriously appeared in the center of their village one day, they did not hesitate to show him how eager they were to please.
Fear of divine retribution aside, Robert Fritz found them to be positively dull.
“Boring… primitive…” he muttered through a mouthful of goulash, “Decent food, though.” He sat cross-legged on the ground as a small family busily attended to his needs, the young children trying to entertain him with a song they had learned.
“Eh, they’re nice enough folks, shame about the smell.” He mused as he carved through a sausage.
His peaceful dinner was soon interrupted by shouts and loud banging noises from outside, “Huh… someone’s gone batsh*t.”
The father of the family stuck his head out of the window, shouting back… he managed one string of scoldings before his home became the center of attention, a barrage of bricks, rocks, and farm tools soon ended his protests… he stumbled back from the door, then shouted for his family to take shelter in the cellar… his demands were greeted with silence.
He turned to his wife, her face blanched as she backed away from him, her eyes fixated on him as though he were not her husband, but some terrible monstrosity. She shouted at him to stay back, clumsily clutching the knife that just moments ago she had used to carve their dinner. He implored her to do what he said… but was answered with a hysterical scream as his wife ran towards him, sticking the carving knife as deeply into his gut as she could, over and over and again, until he slumped to the ground, blood and puss gurgling from his mouth and wound…
“Huh… now this is a show.” He looked over at the children, who had seen fit to use their dinner utensils to mutilate their dead father’s corpse in ways only the truly imaginative could concoct. He set down his dinner plate, the sausage suddenly less appealing.
He stood up, brushing himself off and shaking out his shaggy black hair, nervously picking at a scab on his arm as he quickly went through a mental checklist…
“Hmm.. lessee here… Wife sees monster, kills husband… kids turn into evil little f*ckers, good men are oblivious…” he glanced at the wife, who had curled into a whimpering ball in the corner as her children, their faces stained with their father’s blood, closed in on her.
“Yep,” he stretched, cracking his neck, “I’ve stepped into some major sh*t.”
He snorted then gathered himself, brushing his hair out of his eyes, his left being obviously mechanical, the red lens focusing on the door. He opened it a crack, the sounds of rioting assailing his ears, the smell of dung and animals being replaced with fresh blood and adrenaline.
He inhaled deeply, “Aaah… It might not be relaxing, but at least it’s something fun.” He grinned a crooked grin, then stole off into the madness, his black strait jacket and boots quickly acquiring a good sprinkling of blood, snow, and bits of flesh of the residents of Apoc. He giggled giddily, then made a mad dash towards someone carrying a large farming tool… and greeted his jaw with the heel of his shoe in a display of unfounded limberness.
“Time to crash this winter bash!”
-------------------------------
The people of Apoc were known for their kindness to strangers, though their hospitality could be argued not to be out of genuine love for their fellow man, but the product of a collective paranoia that the wandering traveler could be one of their many worshipped spirits testing their piety. So when the scraggly, dark stranger mysteriously appeared in the center of their village one day, they did not hesitate to show him how eager they were to please.
Fear of divine retribution aside, Robert Fritz found them to be positively dull.
“Boring… primitive…” he muttered through a mouthful of goulash, “Decent food, though.” He sat cross-legged on the ground as a small family busily attended to his needs, the young children trying to entertain him with a song they had learned.
“Eh, they’re nice enough folks, shame about the smell.” He mused as he carved through a sausage.
His peaceful dinner was soon interrupted by shouts and loud banging noises from outside, “Huh… someone’s gone batsh*t.”
The father of the family stuck his head out of the window, shouting back… he managed one string of scoldings before his home became the center of attention, a barrage of bricks, rocks, and farm tools soon ended his protests… he stumbled back from the door, then shouted for his family to take shelter in the cellar… his demands were greeted with silence.
He turned to his wife, her face blanched as she backed away from him, her eyes fixated on him as though he were not her husband, but some terrible monstrosity. She shouted at him to stay back, clumsily clutching the knife that just moments ago she had used to carve their dinner. He implored her to do what he said… but was answered with a hysterical scream as his wife ran towards him, sticking the carving knife as deeply into his gut as she could, over and over and again, until he slumped to the ground, blood and puss gurgling from his mouth and wound…
“Huh… now this is a show.” He looked over at the children, who had seen fit to use their dinner utensils to mutilate their dead father’s corpse in ways only the truly imaginative could concoct. He set down his dinner plate, the sausage suddenly less appealing.
He stood up, brushing himself off and shaking out his shaggy black hair, nervously picking at a scab on his arm as he quickly went through a mental checklist…
“Hmm.. lessee here… Wife sees monster, kills husband… kids turn into evil little f*ckers, good men are oblivious…” he glanced at the wife, who had curled into a whimpering ball in the corner as her children, their faces stained with their father’s blood, closed in on her.
“Yep,” he stretched, cracking his neck, “I’ve stepped into some major sh*t.”
He snorted then gathered himself, brushing his hair out of his eyes, his left being obviously mechanical, the red lens focusing on the door. He opened it a crack, the sounds of rioting assailing his ears, the smell of dung and animals being replaced with fresh blood and adrenaline.
He inhaled deeply, “Aaah… It might not be relaxing, but at least it’s something fun.” He grinned a crooked grin, then stole off into the madness, his black strait jacket and boots quickly acquiring a good sprinkling of blood, snow, and bits of flesh of the residents of Apoc. He giggled giddily, then made a mad dash towards someone carrying a large farming tool… and greeted his jaw with the heel of his shoe in a display of unfounded limberness.
“Time to crash this winter bash!”
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Metal Man
- Member
- Posts: 17964
- Joined: Sun Apr 23, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: 1592 Miles Away From Here
- Contact:
Metal Man stood and laughed, even as he trembled from an unknown force.
"You think to smash your face into my visor?" He stood there, incredulous, as Aidan's reckless attack had done nothing but embedded sharp pieces of depleted plutonium-alloyed glass into his face.
Aidan simply chuckled, as Metal Man then fell to his knees, the endless throbbing getting worse and ruining his ability to move even further. The blacksmith's turn to smirk was now, for Metal Man was truly stuck. Red warning indicators showed how his joints had begun to fuse due to some unforeseen force.
Aidan wiped a handful of deadly glass shards out of his face. "I am a blacksmith. What do you expect me to do when a bunch of metal starts attacking me?"
Metal Man was silent, for his systems had broken. He was nothing more than a statue, a chunk of ore to be forged. Aidan obliged with a final hit, intending to smash Metal Man into a bunch of dinnerware.
The fires of the forge engorged Metal Man's form, but instead of dinnerware, Aidan got a faceful of molten metal. Much more painful than the glass, the metal had almost willed itself into hideous barbs, which now would probably be stuck in Aidan's eyes, ears, and mouth. The attack had splattered Metal Man's form onto the nearby car, and there, he was reforged, all right. The molten metal consumed the car, glowing. There, it did not turn into dishware... but rather, something else. Broken parts, both human and machine, took new shapes; a spoiler for shoulders, strong bodypanel ankles, tires for shoulderpads, and a cape of interior mats. A shiny glass visor appeared atop the angular windshield-equipped visor, as the gritty under-surface of the car with all its pipes typified this form's body armor. Aidan stared, for this was not what he had wanted. His dishware had turned...
...
Into a 15-foot tall transformer version of his former self, the old rusted 80's Chrysler fully integrated into his frame and making him even more overbearing and smug.
The metallicized voice called down from above. "Well, I guess, you did turn me into slag. ...But who said it couldn't turn around and harm you?"
Aidan moved to make another blow, to banish the monstrosity he hadn't meant to make, but instead he was picked up by a massive hand and lifted up into the air to see the... thing's... face. Half-human, half-car, it stared at Aidan with a bizarre apathy.
"You are the fire, and I am the steel. And the steel has as much a will as the fire. So make the mistake of trying to reforge me again at your peril, blacksmith! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Aidan broke free of the grip, and violently punched the car-man in the face, but it was not enough; Metal Transformer Man lashed out with his still-good hand and swatted Aidan into the floor, then spun his right hand like a drill. Before Aidan could react, a hubcap-sized hole was bored right into the middle of him. The Metal Man merely tossed it away, like some sort of useless tourist relic, before then making a hearty Megatron-esque laugh.
"YOU WORK WITH YOUR PATHETIC HUMAN HANDS, BUT I AM NOT OF YOUR WORLD! REALITY IS BUT PUTTY IN MY HANDS, HANDS OF STEEL! PATHETIC HUMAN! FACE YOUR RECKONING!"
Aidan would move to take cover, at least, if he still could, while the Metal Transformer man's cracked-out hand morphed into a gatling gun. It did not fire bullets; no, it fired rivets. The inefficient, bizarre ammunition type richocheted about, giving the mannequins in a nearby clothing store new ventilation holes and turning the nearby Swiss Chocolate store into Swiss Cheese. Aidan, however, had managed to get the better of Metal Man while he was gloating, and now the man of cursed steel was stomping about, kicking cars through windows and shooting stop signs.
"FEE FIE FO FUM; I SMELL AN UNRULY BUM!"
Aidan was just around the corner of an alley as Metal Man punched through it--what would he do?
"You think to smash your face into my visor?" He stood there, incredulous, as Aidan's reckless attack had done nothing but embedded sharp pieces of depleted plutonium-alloyed glass into his face.
Aidan simply chuckled, as Metal Man then fell to his knees, the endless throbbing getting worse and ruining his ability to move even further. The blacksmith's turn to smirk was now, for Metal Man was truly stuck. Red warning indicators showed how his joints had begun to fuse due to some unforeseen force.
Aidan wiped a handful of deadly glass shards out of his face. "I am a blacksmith. What do you expect me to do when a bunch of metal starts attacking me?"
Metal Man was silent, for his systems had broken. He was nothing more than a statue, a chunk of ore to be forged. Aidan obliged with a final hit, intending to smash Metal Man into a bunch of dinnerware.
The fires of the forge engorged Metal Man's form, but instead of dinnerware, Aidan got a faceful of molten metal. Much more painful than the glass, the metal had almost willed itself into hideous barbs, which now would probably be stuck in Aidan's eyes, ears, and mouth. The attack had splattered Metal Man's form onto the nearby car, and there, he was reforged, all right. The molten metal consumed the car, glowing. There, it did not turn into dishware... but rather, something else. Broken parts, both human and machine, took new shapes; a spoiler for shoulders, strong bodypanel ankles, tires for shoulderpads, and a cape of interior mats. A shiny glass visor appeared atop the angular windshield-equipped visor, as the gritty under-surface of the car with all its pipes typified this form's body armor. Aidan stared, for this was not what he had wanted. His dishware had turned...
...
Into a 15-foot tall transformer version of his former self, the old rusted 80's Chrysler fully integrated into his frame and making him even more overbearing and smug.
The metallicized voice called down from above. "Well, I guess, you did turn me into slag. ...But who said it couldn't turn around and harm you?"
Aidan moved to make another blow, to banish the monstrosity he hadn't meant to make, but instead he was picked up by a massive hand and lifted up into the air to see the... thing's... face. Half-human, half-car, it stared at Aidan with a bizarre apathy.
"You are the fire, and I am the steel. And the steel has as much a will as the fire. So make the mistake of trying to reforge me again at your peril, blacksmith! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Aidan broke free of the grip, and violently punched the car-man in the face, but it was not enough; Metal Transformer Man lashed out with his still-good hand and swatted Aidan into the floor, then spun his right hand like a drill. Before Aidan could react, a hubcap-sized hole was bored right into the middle of him. The Metal Man merely tossed it away, like some sort of useless tourist relic, before then making a hearty Megatron-esque laugh.
"YOU WORK WITH YOUR PATHETIC HUMAN HANDS, BUT I AM NOT OF YOUR WORLD! REALITY IS BUT PUTTY IN MY HANDS, HANDS OF STEEL! PATHETIC HUMAN! FACE YOUR RECKONING!"
Aidan would move to take cover, at least, if he still could, while the Metal Transformer man's cracked-out hand morphed into a gatling gun. It did not fire bullets; no, it fired rivets. The inefficient, bizarre ammunition type richocheted about, giving the mannequins in a nearby clothing store new ventilation holes and turning the nearby Swiss Chocolate store into Swiss Cheese. Aidan, however, had managed to get the better of Metal Man while he was gloating, and now the man of cursed steel was stomping about, kicking cars through windows and shooting stop signs.
"FEE FIE FO FUM; I SMELL AN UNRULY BUM!"
Aidan was just around the corner of an alley as Metal Man punched through it--what would he do?
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Inferno Dragon
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ooc: he's not aiming it at the core he's aiming it at aidan, and he knows better than to unleash it pointing towards the core, he'd keep charging it until he could get a good shot at aidan without risking his planet.Repster wrote:Ooc: So... How does aiming a planet destroying beam of death straight into the core of the world work out for Inferno? Just asking cause that's what's about to happen here.
beware the power of Bahamut\'s eldest son.
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Fairlight Excalibur
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- Posts: 879
- Joined: Sat Nov 28, 2009 6:20 am
- Location: LA
Steel & Stone
RAHHHHHH!! AHHHH!! AAAAAHHH RAAAAAAHHHGgrrrrrRRRRrrrrRRRaaaaGGGGG!!!
Yes. The golem was quite distressed about being ignited. It had no mouth, so exactly where these grunting sounds were coming from was somewhat of a mystery. The creature flailed about, thrashing its arms in a panic, spinning in circles and jumping around in an earthshaking tantrum. The enchanted flame continued to burn through the crystal creature, though burning up the useless crystal was pointless. If the Soul Stone ignited, however, then serious damage would be inflicted.
Kryptonite saw his opening. The panicking golem was losing its form, unable to maintain the semi-humanoid shape that it had taken. As it flailed, the massively armored chest plating also moved around, and within moments the red glow from the exposed Soul Stone again filled the room. The burning embers of the golem's body continue to grow thicker as the tiny chunks of stone sizzled and detached, leaving tiny mineral particles in the air.
“GOT YOU!!”
With about a half a second before the Alastor would shatter the Soul Stone, the bloodthirsty gem had had enough. It abandoned the burning body, hurling all the remaining pieces at the attacker. An explosion of rocks and gemstones rained upon Kryptonite, thwarting his attack as the shrapnel tore into him. He managed to find his footing and braced himself against the nonstop stream of flaming rubble that pelted him. He was on the receiving end of an all-natural gatling gun. The hundreds of pieces of miniature mineral shredded into his body, piercing through his flesh like a chainsaw.
Kryptonite pulled the Alastor up and held it defensively in front of him, with the hilt covering his heart and the blade protecting his head. He then knelt down and covered his face and head with his free arm, hoping to prevent damage to his head, eyes, and heart.
Then he held on for dear life as the rampage continued, with literally thousands of stone fragments smashing (or tearing) into him. The larger pieces pummeled him, smashing into his knees, his chest, his elbows, his neck... he was a target practice dummy for an entire army of superhuman boxers with flaming fists of stone.
The smaller pieces were worse. Instead of smashing, they ripped into him like bullets and tore clean out the other side. Every single rock particle that his flame had created came back with a vengeance, shredding his clothing, his skin, and his bones as they ground into him and exploded behind him in a shower of gore. The blood leaked from his multiple wounds and soaked his clothing until all that he wore soon matched the redness of his cape, while the brilliant blue crystals on the wall were stained a dark red by his precious lifeblood.
After what felt like an eternity in hell, Kryp opened his thankfully undamaged eyes... but he did not like what he saw. The Soul Stone was surrounded by fresh crystals, as it had been gathering new stones to replace the ones it was rejecting. The same figure stood before him that had been there but moments before, sans the fire.
No fooling around this time. The Soul Stone reached out with its golem's arms and literally ripped out a massive crystal formation. The entire cave trembled as the monstrous gem formation was torn loose from the tunnel floor. There was no hesitation or delay as the stone titan flung the boulder down the tunnel at Kryptonite, who immediately started running. His movement was greatly slowed by the enormous bloody hole in his kneecap, but his motivation to get out of the way superceded any pain that he was feeling elsewhere.
He ran very quickly, despite his injuries, and was keeping just ahead of the boulder as it rolled down the tunnel right behind him. He gained speed as he ran, looking for a fork in the tunnel or some other opportunity to lose the boulder behind him, and he after ten seconds of sprinting, he found a fork in the path that afforded him just such an opportunity. He darted down the right tunnel before glancing back....
...only to find that the stone had rolled down the same tunnel. He took off running again, still hoping for an opportunity to evade the two tons of rock that barreled down the hallway behind him. His options were limited. Although he could hardly see where he was going in this impossibly bright environment, he skidded to a stop when he discerned that he was about to reach a dead end.
He turned around, realizing that running was useless on this incline. It was difficult to gauge the distance or the size of the boulder. It appeared that there was a fairly large opening between the the bottom of the boulder and the edge of the cave that he could possibly slide through, but that would be a very risky move - he could not see the opening clearly, and the Soul Stone was probably waiting on the other side. The better bet would be to unload his strongest attack and blast right through the boulder, though he would have to waste a good amount of mana to do so.
Kryp decided that wasting mana was better than getting the crap knocked out of him. His sword began glowing as he focused an excessive amount of mana into the blade, getting ready to slice the boulder in half and blow the fragments to pieces. He counted the seconds until the boulder would hit him, timing his swing perfectly.
He never got to swing. The Soul Stone golem came rocketing through the gap from the other side of the giant rock, shooting past Kryp in a four ton slide tackle. It extended its arm on the way past, hooking Kryp's feet out from under him as the boulder closed in its last few feet. He tumbled forward as he went airborne while his legs were violently swept away, and collided headfirst into the mammoth boulder. Because he was airborne, he was knocked away rather than flattened and soared backwards down the tunnel lime a ragdoll.
The golem wound up for his swing as the boulder pitched Kryp at it and slammed a huge punch into his back as he landed on its knuckles. The golem lunged forward with the punch, carrying Kryptonite forwards as the unwilling passenger on the tip of its fist.
The punch plowed into the rolling boulder with the swordsman sandwiched in between them, and the boulder exploded from the force as Kryptonite was literally driven through the massive rock by the force of the punch pushing him forward. The crystalline floor of the cave gave way as Kryptonite crashed into it, dropping him, the Soul Stone golem, the exploded boulder, and thousands of pounds of collapsed cave walls through the opening as they entered a freefall.
They landed in a wide open cavern after only a few seconds of falling, while the crumbling walls and showers of debris rained on them from above. Hundreds of pounds of falling rubble slammed into both of them, although the Soul Stone really did not seem to care. The golem simply raised its arms, deflecting the falling chunks with its forearms. Kryptonite would undoubtedly have done the same thing if he were made of diamond hard rocks, but alas, flesh and blood do not do well when caught under a rockslide.
This new cavern was even brighter than the last, and even opening one's eyes would expose them to sheer pain. The golem reoriented itself after the fall, looking around the room and gauging its surroundings before turning back to watch the pile of rocks that contained its opponent.
While the Soul Stone found the new environment relaxing, the adventurer was not enjoying the scenery, because being torn to shreds by flying flaming shrapnel before being slammed headfirst into a two ton boulder followed by being golem-punched in the back and driven facefirst back into the same boulder again only to be crushed through the floor of a cave and dropped forty feet before having hundreds of pounds of rocks and debris bury him alive was somewhat distracting.
RAHHHHHH!! AHHHH!! AAAAAHHH RAAAAAAHHHGgrrrrrRRRRrrrrRRRaaaaGGGGG!!!
Yes. The golem was quite distressed about being ignited. It had no mouth, so exactly where these grunting sounds were coming from was somewhat of a mystery. The creature flailed about, thrashing its arms in a panic, spinning in circles and jumping around in an earthshaking tantrum. The enchanted flame continued to burn through the crystal creature, though burning up the useless crystal was pointless. If the Soul Stone ignited, however, then serious damage would be inflicted.
Kryptonite saw his opening. The panicking golem was losing its form, unable to maintain the semi-humanoid shape that it had taken. As it flailed, the massively armored chest plating also moved around, and within moments the red glow from the exposed Soul Stone again filled the room. The burning embers of the golem's body continue to grow thicker as the tiny chunks of stone sizzled and detached, leaving tiny mineral particles in the air.
“GOT YOU!!”
With about a half a second before the Alastor would shatter the Soul Stone, the bloodthirsty gem had had enough. It abandoned the burning body, hurling all the remaining pieces at the attacker. An explosion of rocks and gemstones rained upon Kryptonite, thwarting his attack as the shrapnel tore into him. He managed to find his footing and braced himself against the nonstop stream of flaming rubble that pelted him. He was on the receiving end of an all-natural gatling gun. The hundreds of pieces of miniature mineral shredded into his body, piercing through his flesh like a chainsaw.
Kryptonite pulled the Alastor up and held it defensively in front of him, with the hilt covering his heart and the blade protecting his head. He then knelt down and covered his face and head with his free arm, hoping to prevent damage to his head, eyes, and heart.
Then he held on for dear life as the rampage continued, with literally thousands of stone fragments smashing (or tearing) into him. The larger pieces pummeled him, smashing into his knees, his chest, his elbows, his neck... he was a target practice dummy for an entire army of superhuman boxers with flaming fists of stone.
The smaller pieces were worse. Instead of smashing, they ripped into him like bullets and tore clean out the other side. Every single rock particle that his flame had created came back with a vengeance, shredding his clothing, his skin, and his bones as they ground into him and exploded behind him in a shower of gore. The blood leaked from his multiple wounds and soaked his clothing until all that he wore soon matched the redness of his cape, while the brilliant blue crystals on the wall were stained a dark red by his precious lifeblood.
After what felt like an eternity in hell, Kryp opened his thankfully undamaged eyes... but he did not like what he saw. The Soul Stone was surrounded by fresh crystals, as it had been gathering new stones to replace the ones it was rejecting. The same figure stood before him that had been there but moments before, sans the fire.
No fooling around this time. The Soul Stone reached out with its golem's arms and literally ripped out a massive crystal formation. The entire cave trembled as the monstrous gem formation was torn loose from the tunnel floor. There was no hesitation or delay as the stone titan flung the boulder down the tunnel at Kryptonite, who immediately started running. His movement was greatly slowed by the enormous bloody hole in his kneecap, but his motivation to get out of the way superceded any pain that he was feeling elsewhere.
He ran very quickly, despite his injuries, and was keeping just ahead of the boulder as it rolled down the tunnel right behind him. He gained speed as he ran, looking for a fork in the tunnel or some other opportunity to lose the boulder behind him, and he after ten seconds of sprinting, he found a fork in the path that afforded him just such an opportunity. He darted down the right tunnel before glancing back....
...only to find that the stone had rolled down the same tunnel. He took off running again, still hoping for an opportunity to evade the two tons of rock that barreled down the hallway behind him. His options were limited. Although he could hardly see where he was going in this impossibly bright environment, he skidded to a stop when he discerned that he was about to reach a dead end.
He turned around, realizing that running was useless on this incline. It was difficult to gauge the distance or the size of the boulder. It appeared that there was a fairly large opening between the the bottom of the boulder and the edge of the cave that he could possibly slide through, but that would be a very risky move - he could not see the opening clearly, and the Soul Stone was probably waiting on the other side. The better bet would be to unload his strongest attack and blast right through the boulder, though he would have to waste a good amount of mana to do so.
Kryp decided that wasting mana was better than getting the crap knocked out of him. His sword began glowing as he focused an excessive amount of mana into the blade, getting ready to slice the boulder in half and blow the fragments to pieces. He counted the seconds until the boulder would hit him, timing his swing perfectly.
He never got to swing. The Soul Stone golem came rocketing through the gap from the other side of the giant rock, shooting past Kryp in a four ton slide tackle. It extended its arm on the way past, hooking Kryp's feet out from under him as the boulder closed in its last few feet. He tumbled forward as he went airborne while his legs were violently swept away, and collided headfirst into the mammoth boulder. Because he was airborne, he was knocked away rather than flattened and soared backwards down the tunnel lime a ragdoll.
The golem wound up for his swing as the boulder pitched Kryp at it and slammed a huge punch into his back as he landed on its knuckles. The golem lunged forward with the punch, carrying Kryptonite forwards as the unwilling passenger on the tip of its fist.
The punch plowed into the rolling boulder with the swordsman sandwiched in between them, and the boulder exploded from the force as Kryptonite was literally driven through the massive rock by the force of the punch pushing him forward. The crystalline floor of the cave gave way as Kryptonite crashed into it, dropping him, the Soul Stone golem, the exploded boulder, and thousands of pounds of collapsed cave walls through the opening as they entered a freefall.
They landed in a wide open cavern after only a few seconds of falling, while the crumbling walls and showers of debris rained on them from above. Hundreds of pounds of falling rubble slammed into both of them, although the Soul Stone really did not seem to care. The golem simply raised its arms, deflecting the falling chunks with its forearms. Kryptonite would undoubtedly have done the same thing if he were made of diamond hard rocks, but alas, flesh and blood do not do well when caught under a rockslide.
This new cavern was even brighter than the last, and even opening one's eyes would expose them to sheer pain. The golem reoriented itself after the fall, looking around the room and gauging its surroundings before turning back to watch the pile of rocks that contained its opponent.
While the Soul Stone found the new environment relaxing, the adventurer was not enjoying the scenery, because being torn to shreds by flying flaming shrapnel before being slammed headfirst into a two ton boulder followed by being golem-punched in the back and driven facefirst back into the same boulder again only to be crushed through the floor of a cave and dropped forty feet before having hundreds of pounds of rocks and debris bury him alive was somewhat distracting.
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Repster
- Member
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- Joined: Tue Jun 06, 2000 1:00 am
- Location: J'tun ostie d'Acadien.
Ooc: Metal Man, I'll get to you when I figure out how to properly deal with being drilled in half. Unless I am misremembering the size of a Chrysler. Average hubcaps around here are roughly the size of Aidan's width.
As for you inferno, I really can't do much about this... I want to, but I can't. It's not in Aidan's nature to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, without a proper reason anyway.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Tic Toc." Aidan's voice roared out.
"You really are a bloody idjit aren't you?" Aidan chuckled, tears of the deepest sorrow in his eye, as he sat down . Inferno's aura was what kept the magma away from the two, and somehow provided a breathable atmosphere amid the toxic fumes. He reached into the core, and began taking in power. Might as well use what was right at hand to ease his eventual recovery. Not to mention gather up enough power for a little... surprise.
"Tic Toc." Disjointed from the rest of his word Aidan's insane voice wracked with sobs drowned out that of the churning magma.
"I am sober ya dumb ****. Pain simply lost it's edge a long long time ago. Besides, you obviously never got in a real fight drunk, it sobers you up right quick. But here's where your stupidity really comes into play you son of a fat whore. I'm here. Your there. Behind me is your precious little home. I don't give a whore's ashes about this place. You do. You won't pull the trigger. If you move, this air pocket moves, and I move with it. You try and move without it? Your dealing with magma, I can swim pretty damn fast and don't need to fancy stance either. You run up... well, I'm gonna bloody well stay put. You already have enough power built up to take this place out. If I stay between you, and it, I'm perfectly safe. Doesn't matter what angle you try to get, the damage you do will kill countless innocent, and create unimaginable natural disasters maiming more
"Tic Toc."
"How long can you keep this up? Your draining yourself every moment." He laughed and sobbed like a small child that had it's ice cream dumped on the ground by a stupid doody head meanie face. He waited, laughed and cried. Slowly, ever so slowly gathering up the strength he would eventually need.
"Tic Toc."
As for you inferno, I really can't do much about this... I want to, but I can't. It's not in Aidan's nature to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, without a proper reason anyway.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-
"Tic Toc." Aidan's voice roared out.
"You really are a bloody idjit aren't you?" Aidan chuckled, tears of the deepest sorrow in his eye, as he sat down . Inferno's aura was what kept the magma away from the two, and somehow provided a breathable atmosphere amid the toxic fumes. He reached into the core, and began taking in power. Might as well use what was right at hand to ease his eventual recovery. Not to mention gather up enough power for a little... surprise.
"Tic Toc." Disjointed from the rest of his word Aidan's insane voice wracked with sobs drowned out that of the churning magma.
"I am sober ya dumb ****. Pain simply lost it's edge a long long time ago. Besides, you obviously never got in a real fight drunk, it sobers you up right quick. But here's where your stupidity really comes into play you son of a fat whore. I'm here. Your there. Behind me is your precious little home. I don't give a whore's ashes about this place. You do. You won't pull the trigger. If you move, this air pocket moves, and I move with it. You try and move without it? Your dealing with magma, I can swim pretty damn fast and don't need to fancy stance either. You run up... well, I'm gonna bloody well stay put. You already have enough power built up to take this place out. If I stay between you, and it, I'm perfectly safe. Doesn't matter what angle you try to get, the damage you do will kill countless innocent, and create unimaginable natural disasters maiming more
"Tic Toc."
"How long can you keep this up? Your draining yourself every moment." He laughed and sobbed like a small child that had it's ice cream dumped on the ground by a stupid doody head meanie face. He waited, laughed and cried. Slowly, ever so slowly gathering up the strength he would eventually need.
"Tic Toc."
When our world is burning.
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
When all run like the cowards they are.
I shall stand in the inferno, and fight until I am consumed
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Inferno Dragon
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- Joined: Mon Jul 30, 2001 1:00 am
- Location: Planet Draco
- Has thanked: 1 time
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"Ha... Me..."
the blue orb of ki in Inferno's hands grew brighter and brighter as more of Inferno's energy flowed into the ball of ki. yes it did take a great ammount of energy to build up this powerful attack, but because of inferno's years upon years of training, this attack was barely tapping into 15% of Inferno's energy reserves. Inferno smirked as he instantly teleported behind aidan, putting himself between aidan and the world's core.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
Inferno thrust his clawed fingers deep into aidan's back and pointed him and the ball of energy towards the mouth of hell's forge and unleashed the destructive beam of blue ki, forcing Aidan and the beam through the magma at unbearable speeds. The ground on the surface trembled violently as lava spewed skyward from hell's forge followed by a beam of blue ki that could be seen from all the cities of Draco. Aidan continued rocketing into the sky until the beam of ki disappated, falling back to draco at near terminal velocity and crashing into the ground next to hell's forge, ki burns all over his body and bleeding profusely from the holes in his back at the center of a deep crater created from his impact. the core energy he had absorbed was knocked out of him upon impact and rejoined with the planet. once the beam disapates, Inferno turns to the core and infuses his energy into it, repairing what damage may have been done on accident and purging it, and the world, of aidan's energy to prevent him from taking controll of anything here. finished, Inferno flies at maximum speed to the mouth of hell's forge, riding the magma flow out of the mouth of the volcano and leaping from the lava to the solid ground below. he looked down to the crater below from the volcano's rim, hoping Aidan wouldn't get up from that attack, but readied himself just in case aidan were to try one last ditch effort against the dragon king.
"like I said, you're tricks don't work anymore. I saw what you did to the core of my home, I purged your energy from the core and the rest of this world and that impact drove what energy you stole out of you. you're finished!"
the blue orb of ki in Inferno's hands grew brighter and brighter as more of Inferno's energy flowed into the ball of ki. yes it did take a great ammount of energy to build up this powerful attack, but because of inferno's years upon years of training, this attack was barely tapping into 15% of Inferno's energy reserves. Inferno smirked as he instantly teleported behind aidan, putting himself between aidan and the world's core.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!"
Inferno thrust his clawed fingers deep into aidan's back and pointed him and the ball of energy towards the mouth of hell's forge and unleashed the destructive beam of blue ki, forcing Aidan and the beam through the magma at unbearable speeds. The ground on the surface trembled violently as lava spewed skyward from hell's forge followed by a beam of blue ki that could be seen from all the cities of Draco. Aidan continued rocketing into the sky until the beam of ki disappated, falling back to draco at near terminal velocity and crashing into the ground next to hell's forge, ki burns all over his body and bleeding profusely from the holes in his back at the center of a deep crater created from his impact. the core energy he had absorbed was knocked out of him upon impact and rejoined with the planet. once the beam disapates, Inferno turns to the core and infuses his energy into it, repairing what damage may have been done on accident and purging it, and the world, of aidan's energy to prevent him from taking controll of anything here. finished, Inferno flies at maximum speed to the mouth of hell's forge, riding the magma flow out of the mouth of the volcano and leaping from the lava to the solid ground below. he looked down to the crater below from the volcano's rim, hoping Aidan wouldn't get up from that attack, but readied himself just in case aidan were to try one last ditch effort against the dragon king.
"like I said, you're tricks don't work anymore. I saw what you did to the core of my home, I purged your energy from the core and the rest of this world and that impact drove what energy you stole out of you. you're finished!"
beware the power of Bahamut\'s eldest son.
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Metal Man
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OOC: Ah... that is about the size I meant, though I was thinking it might leave some fringes on the edge, but... yeah. Even then, it's a huge hole, so feel free to think on it. </EvilAttack>
Super Smash Quest: Fighting evil since 2002.
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Bad Dragonite
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OOC: Don't worry X-3 I've got the same problem. Todays the last day for the cd or whatever to come in the mail for my home dial up. If it doesn't then AAT gon need some woop-a**...Yeah...
I can't reply at this exact moment, but I'll work on it on the way home and then... God willing, I'll post it.
AT&T U SUCK! [angry face!!] I'm now online with Netzero [lolpwned] I'll have a reply up later, life calls at the moment, sorry..
I can't reply at this exact moment, but I'll work on it on the way home and then... God willing, I'll post it.
AT&T U SUCK! [angry face!!] I'm now online with Netzero [lolpwned] I'll have a reply up later, life calls at the moment, sorry..
-I'm Vgfian
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Dhampir
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LOOT
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As if by miracle, the cloaked figure cape flew off, disappearing into a ray of light. Fear saw not of the man's face, but rather of his boots. While the strength of the kick did not cause injury, it was the sudden nature of the attack that got to him the most. That, and it kinda hurt. While he landed on his back, he quickly did a backward roll and was on his feet in no time. "Ye who would dare bathe in the waters of chaos, the only fate fitting of such actions is true fear." Standing before Robert was a man of almost unworldly stature. Covering his chest was chain mail, made of what appeared to be rings of titanium. Fear's eyes narrowed as he looked on his opposing force. "Any words in attempt to redeem your corrupted soul, mortal?"
"Not really," replied the stranger. "I would like to say that's quite the medieval armor on you. Rather unfitting for this time." He gave a small thump to the left side of his head. "Might not be fair fight for ya."
Fear snorted. He stuck the blade of his scythe into the blood soaked ground, then proceeded to scoop up a rather generous portion of fresh snow. "The most primitive means of defense always has a way of deflecting the most advanced of attacks. Certainly, there's always the opposite as well." He proceeded to chuck the powdery snow forward, smacking the chaotic man's eyes. Blinded for merely a second, he made a gesture to wipe the snow off, but was too late as he heard the stranger running towards him. Robert sidestepped to his right, but suddenly found his right eye meeting with Fear's left fist. The mere force of the punch sent him spiraling into a nearby bench.
"Heh... poor bench never stood a chance" the strange man muttered. Fear raised an eyebrow at this strange mumbling. "Then again..." Robert rose up to his feet, his face's features finally sinking into Fear's mind.
"Neither did you, Mr. Glowing Eyes."
"Not really," replied the stranger. "I would like to say that's quite the medieval armor on you. Rather unfitting for this time." He gave a small thump to the left side of his head. "Might not be fair fight for ya."
Fear snorted. He stuck the blade of his scythe into the blood soaked ground, then proceeded to scoop up a rather generous portion of fresh snow. "The most primitive means of defense always has a way of deflecting the most advanced of attacks. Certainly, there's always the opposite as well." He proceeded to chuck the powdery snow forward, smacking the chaotic man's eyes. Blinded for merely a second, he made a gesture to wipe the snow off, but was too late as he heard the stranger running towards him. Robert sidestepped to his right, but suddenly found his right eye meeting with Fear's left fist. The mere force of the punch sent him spiraling into a nearby bench.
"Heh... poor bench never stood a chance" the strange man muttered. Fear raised an eyebrow at this strange mumbling. "Then again..." Robert rose up to his feet, his face's features finally sinking into Fear's mind.
"Neither did you, Mr. Glowing Eyes."
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Mushi
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Fritz quickly shook himself out, “Well that was a good wallop…” he grinned and raised his fists, his sleeves draped over them.
“Put up your dukes. Come on!” he wiped his bloodied face on his arm, “I’m gonna bop you!” He made whooshing noises as he hopped over, dodging and weaving from imaginary blows.
Fear was not amused. Robert’s odd dance was interrupted by a flash of the scythe, which forced him to the ground lest he be cut in two. The cutting edge nicked his nose, his eye lens focusing on it for the fraction of a second it took to pass over him. He crab-crawled backward out of the scythe’s reach.
“Whoa! Don’t go swingin’ your gardening tools at me!” he shouted as he turned to face Fear, still on all fours, “I am not wheat, or alfalfa!” he giggled to himself, “Alfalfa...”
He grinned at Fear, “Hey… Wanna see something real neat?” He stood up, narrowly avoiding getting harvested again, then sneered through clenched teeth…
“Watch the birdie…” he hummed softly as his eye lens focused in on the scythe-wielder, the area around his eye sizzling and sparking from the heat being focused…
“You payin attention!?” he screamed, “Cause here it comes!” he began laughing uncontrollably, both from the searing pain as what could only be a malfunction in his mechanical eye cooked his face and from his growing excitement at what was about to happen… not even he really knew at this point.
“Are you seeing this!?” he cackled, taking a firm stance, his eye aimed right at Fear…
The once-cloaked figure wasn’t having any of it. With a deliberate and almost arrogant step it approached Robert, and with a faint grunt swung the scythe…
The curved blade made short work of Fritz’s midsection, carving through it… with a sickening squelch and a sharp crack, his torso went flying to the side, his arms flailing as he went headfirst into a snow bank. His lower half stood up for a few tense seconds before slumping into the blood-soaked snow.
A stream of curses rose up from the snow, piercing the momentary silence…
“Those were my walking legs!” he screeched in agony, “How am I supposed to fulfill my dream of completing a marathon now!?” his teeth were clenched to the point of cracking, his face strained… then he slowly grinned, a hi-pitched tone signaling the end of his eye’s charging sequence…
He struggled viciously to right himself, his eye scanning feverishly, until finally he caught sight of Fear…
“There you are…” he cooed… Then screamed as a focused beam of light shot out from the lens, a laser beam capable of cutting through sheet metal aiming to take revenge on Fear… he was aiming to cut across his mid-section.
Legs for legs.
“Put up your dukes. Come on!” he wiped his bloodied face on his arm, “I’m gonna bop you!” He made whooshing noises as he hopped over, dodging and weaving from imaginary blows.
Fear was not amused. Robert’s odd dance was interrupted by a flash of the scythe, which forced him to the ground lest he be cut in two. The cutting edge nicked his nose, his eye lens focusing on it for the fraction of a second it took to pass over him. He crab-crawled backward out of the scythe’s reach.
“Whoa! Don’t go swingin’ your gardening tools at me!” he shouted as he turned to face Fear, still on all fours, “I am not wheat, or alfalfa!” he giggled to himself, “Alfalfa...”
He grinned at Fear, “Hey… Wanna see something real neat?” He stood up, narrowly avoiding getting harvested again, then sneered through clenched teeth…
“Watch the birdie…” he hummed softly as his eye lens focused in on the scythe-wielder, the area around his eye sizzling and sparking from the heat being focused…
“You payin attention!?” he screamed, “Cause here it comes!” he began laughing uncontrollably, both from the searing pain as what could only be a malfunction in his mechanical eye cooked his face and from his growing excitement at what was about to happen… not even he really knew at this point.
“Are you seeing this!?” he cackled, taking a firm stance, his eye aimed right at Fear…
The once-cloaked figure wasn’t having any of it. With a deliberate and almost arrogant step it approached Robert, and with a faint grunt swung the scythe…
The curved blade made short work of Fritz’s midsection, carving through it… with a sickening squelch and a sharp crack, his torso went flying to the side, his arms flailing as he went headfirst into a snow bank. His lower half stood up for a few tense seconds before slumping into the blood-soaked snow.
A stream of curses rose up from the snow, piercing the momentary silence…
“Those were my walking legs!” he screeched in agony, “How am I supposed to fulfill my dream of completing a marathon now!?” his teeth were clenched to the point of cracking, his face strained… then he slowly grinned, a hi-pitched tone signaling the end of his eye’s charging sequence…
He struggled viciously to right himself, his eye scanning feverishly, until finally he caught sight of Fear…
“There you are…” he cooed… Then screamed as a focused beam of light shot out from the lens, a laser beam capable of cutting through sheet metal aiming to take revenge on Fear… he was aiming to cut across his mid-section.
Legs for legs.
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Bad Dragonite
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The lengthy nails of Ramses' two hands embedded themselves into his long lost brother's chest cavity and found themselves emerging from the other side along with fresh streams of blood. It must have felt somewhat disgusting to the decaying man - the feeling of the other man's soft, mushy lung tissue running down his nails - the warmth of it touching his cold, dead fingertips.
The chef's eyes shifted. His older body weakened. His arms and legs went limp. The black iron frying pan and the large blade hit the floor with their own individual clangs. The only thing holding Ramsey up was the other man's blackened claws.
"My my, how disappointing, brother. I thought one of my own would have put up a better fight. " Ramses chuckled as he yanked his hands from his brother's torso after watching the lights leave his eyes. A stream of blood shot from the chef's back and splattered on the cake he had DIED for, ruining its perfection.
Ramses looked down upon his fallen victim, " Perhaps you really weren't my bro-"
His speech was interrupted by a shifting sound coming from near the cake. A black puddle formed near the seven layered masterpiece. It soon formed into a quasi-humanoid shape of an inky black color. Actually it seemed to be covered in an inky mess that dripped off of it. The creature was on top of the table crouching and observing the blood stain on the cake.
Just as Ramses began to move, the creature, whatever it was, jerked its head so that its gaze was now on Ramses. It had no flesh. Its body seemed to be made of this ink like substance. Its eyes (or at least what seemed like eyes, even though there were no actual organic eyes there, rather they were just two lights), glowed with a pale green light and seemed to show no emotion or personality. The creature's mouth(?) was opened fairly wide, tooth like projections of the same black coloration lined its mouth, thou you couldn't really tell that easily due to the blackness of the nothing that was held within.
Any confidence Ramses had might have been crushed had he not been stricken with enough fear to distract him from it. This fear was immediately replaced by the thought of having a good challenge.
"My what a neat trick," he said.
The creature's head tilted a bit.
"To bad your life must NOW END!"
Ramses lunged at the ink man, nails extended. The ink man, unlike the chef, acrobatically moved out of the way of the attack and with its clawed, hand-like appendages, grabbed Ramses' wrist and easily forced his needle-sharp digits deep into the man's skin. As he flipped over Ramses he raked the skin all the way up to the shoulder, not being mindful of the forearm muscles, blood vessels, bicep, or any other piece of anatomy he tore and sliced through on his way there.
Ramses immediately reacted to the pain with a yell and by swinging his good arm around in an attempt to jab the oily, ink made man through the torso with his black nails. The ink man rolled backward to avoid contact and landed in a crouching position across the room; his arms were outstretched in a threatening manner and his large blade like claws stretched outward.
Ramses paid no attention to the ribbons of flesh and muscle hanging from his limp arm, to the blood spewing out of the large wound, or to the pain that came therefrom. No, he was more focused on mindlessly attacking this thing with his nails of death in revenge. He ran towards the ink man and just before reaching it, the oily creature spat a green ... substance on the man's upper torso. The slime resembled sewage in both sight and smell. Ramses didn't care though, and he also didn't notice the burning sensation or the hissing sound coming from his chest and shoulder. No, it didn't break his focus at all. Ramses forced not only his nails, but the entirety of both of his hands through the taller creature's abdomen. Despite what you might think it was lukewarm on the inside, room temperature in fact. The ink thing reacted with a high pitched squawk of pain. Ramses' eyes were widened by insanity as a smile curled on his lips. It was a satisfying reaction from the creature.
"Ive got you now," he whispered, " let's see if that oil burns."
He flung the black creature across the room. It landed on a stove that had been left on and forgotten. The creature gave out a scream as it combusted spontaneously. It flailed around hitting everything nearby and causing a huge ruckus.
" Heh. Maybe he wasn't that strong," Ramses said while checking his wound, the acidic stuff from earlier now gone, along with quite a few layers of skin "Better get that looked a- huh?" The monstrous screeching had stopped.
Ramses looked over at the stove to see the once raging flames now dying down. It was soon at a smolder save for one small flame. The black abomination sat up and glared at Ramses, its eyes now glowing a bright red. The small flame was on the tip of its claw. The oily creature held its hand in front of itself, opened its mouth, and spat another bit of black substance out. The glob flew as fast as a bullet, went through the flame, combusted, and splattered on Ramses' face. He clawed at his face to get the stuff off, but only got little bits off at a time. The oily humanoid leaped at Ramses. It grabbed his already injured arm, but didn't stop flying by, it used its momentum in an attempt to fling Ramses, whom he now considered an enemy, and no longer just another insignificant morsel to prey upon. The momentum worked and Ramses went flying through the door into the casino, but not all of him. As the ink blob man flung Ramses, he twisted the man's wounded arm, and the stress after the acid was to much. First the man whipped around, dislocating his shoulder and wrist. Then half a second later the bone near the man's bicep had been stressed and broken down enough by the acid that it snapped off like a twig. The flesh, muscles, and ligaments lasted a bit longer, but quickly tore like a bunch of old stressed rubber bands. The last to tear were the blood vessels, the tore like boiled noodle, then fell to a dangle from the arm. The blood spilled from the stump left. Ramses screamed as he hit the swinging door and came to a skidding stop on the marble floor of the casino, just a few feet from a group of slot machines, a black-jack table, and a bar with a startled bartender. The flames on his face finally died out.
The demonic ink-blot wasn't done yet, though. He spat more of the flammable goo on the bicep of the arm. and set it ablaze. Then he leaped over to Ramses, and before Ramses could react, he began beating the man in the head with his own disembodied arm. One-two-three, the bicep came down like a hammer on his face, the flaps of tissue slapping Ramses in the face leaving disgusting streaks of fluids thereupon with every blow. The flames really didn't seem to have any real purpose, perhaps to keep the other man from taking his own arm back, perhaps it just enjoyed the flames, or maybe it was some other thing. The blackened bits from the arm flew off with each swing. The creature kept primitively beating at the opponent, and once he got about nine hits in, there was a gunshot and part of the creature's shoulder seemed to disappear. It dropped the arm and looked to see two security guards, both aiming at him. Its shoulder
"FREEZE!" one of them yelled.
The oily man looked back down at Ramses, his nose broken and bleeding, but his face surprisingly not nearly as damaged as it should have been. Most of his features remained in tact. Then the oil thing looked back at the guards and gave out a screech.
It seemed to fly across the room, dodging most of the bullets, save for one that went straight through his chest, the wound sealed itself with more oily mess. The creature faked left then went behind the two like a shadow to their right. He bit one of the guards jugular vein in the neck sending blood flying into the air, and he sliced the other guard's head almost completely off with his claw.
During this distraction, Ramses was readying his next attack. He was going to get revenge on this slime-ball and this incident with the guards presented the perfect opportunity...
The chef's eyes shifted. His older body weakened. His arms and legs went limp. The black iron frying pan and the large blade hit the floor with their own individual clangs. The only thing holding Ramsey up was the other man's blackened claws.
"My my, how disappointing, brother. I thought one of my own would have put up a better fight. " Ramses chuckled as he yanked his hands from his brother's torso after watching the lights leave his eyes. A stream of blood shot from the chef's back and splattered on the cake he had DIED for, ruining its perfection.
Ramses looked down upon his fallen victim, " Perhaps you really weren't my bro-"
His speech was interrupted by a shifting sound coming from near the cake. A black puddle formed near the seven layered masterpiece. It soon formed into a quasi-humanoid shape of an inky black color. Actually it seemed to be covered in an inky mess that dripped off of it. The creature was on top of the table crouching and observing the blood stain on the cake.
Just as Ramses began to move, the creature, whatever it was, jerked its head so that its gaze was now on Ramses. It had no flesh. Its body seemed to be made of this ink like substance. Its eyes (or at least what seemed like eyes, even though there were no actual organic eyes there, rather they were just two lights), glowed with a pale green light and seemed to show no emotion or personality. The creature's mouth(?) was opened fairly wide, tooth like projections of the same black coloration lined its mouth, thou you couldn't really tell that easily due to the blackness of the nothing that was held within.
Any confidence Ramses had might have been crushed had he not been stricken with enough fear to distract him from it. This fear was immediately replaced by the thought of having a good challenge.
"My what a neat trick," he said.
The creature's head tilted a bit.
"To bad your life must NOW END!"
Ramses lunged at the ink man, nails extended. The ink man, unlike the chef, acrobatically moved out of the way of the attack and with its clawed, hand-like appendages, grabbed Ramses' wrist and easily forced his needle-sharp digits deep into the man's skin. As he flipped over Ramses he raked the skin all the way up to the shoulder, not being mindful of the forearm muscles, blood vessels, bicep, or any other piece of anatomy he tore and sliced through on his way there.
Ramses immediately reacted to the pain with a yell and by swinging his good arm around in an attempt to jab the oily, ink made man through the torso with his black nails. The ink man rolled backward to avoid contact and landed in a crouching position across the room; his arms were outstretched in a threatening manner and his large blade like claws stretched outward.
Ramses paid no attention to the ribbons of flesh and muscle hanging from his limp arm, to the blood spewing out of the large wound, or to the pain that came therefrom. No, he was more focused on mindlessly attacking this thing with his nails of death in revenge. He ran towards the ink man and just before reaching it, the oily creature spat a green ... substance on the man's upper torso. The slime resembled sewage in both sight and smell. Ramses didn't care though, and he also didn't notice the burning sensation or the hissing sound coming from his chest and shoulder. No, it didn't break his focus at all. Ramses forced not only his nails, but the entirety of both of his hands through the taller creature's abdomen. Despite what you might think it was lukewarm on the inside, room temperature in fact. The ink thing reacted with a high pitched squawk of pain. Ramses' eyes were widened by insanity as a smile curled on his lips. It was a satisfying reaction from the creature.
"Ive got you now," he whispered, " let's see if that oil burns."
He flung the black creature across the room. It landed on a stove that had been left on and forgotten. The creature gave out a scream as it combusted spontaneously. It flailed around hitting everything nearby and causing a huge ruckus.
" Heh. Maybe he wasn't that strong," Ramses said while checking his wound, the acidic stuff from earlier now gone, along with quite a few layers of skin "Better get that looked a- huh?" The monstrous screeching had stopped.
Ramses looked over at the stove to see the once raging flames now dying down. It was soon at a smolder save for one small flame. The black abomination sat up and glared at Ramses, its eyes now glowing a bright red. The small flame was on the tip of its claw. The oily creature held its hand in front of itself, opened its mouth, and spat another bit of black substance out. The glob flew as fast as a bullet, went through the flame, combusted, and splattered on Ramses' face. He clawed at his face to get the stuff off, but only got little bits off at a time. The oily humanoid leaped at Ramses. It grabbed his already injured arm, but didn't stop flying by, it used its momentum in an attempt to fling Ramses, whom he now considered an enemy, and no longer just another insignificant morsel to prey upon. The momentum worked and Ramses went flying through the door into the casino, but not all of him. As the ink blob man flung Ramses, he twisted the man's wounded arm, and the stress after the acid was to much. First the man whipped around, dislocating his shoulder and wrist. Then half a second later the bone near the man's bicep had been stressed and broken down enough by the acid that it snapped off like a twig. The flesh, muscles, and ligaments lasted a bit longer, but quickly tore like a bunch of old stressed rubber bands. The last to tear were the blood vessels, the tore like boiled noodle, then fell to a dangle from the arm. The blood spilled from the stump left. Ramses screamed as he hit the swinging door and came to a skidding stop on the marble floor of the casino, just a few feet from a group of slot machines, a black-jack table, and a bar with a startled bartender. The flames on his face finally died out.
The demonic ink-blot wasn't done yet, though. He spat more of the flammable goo on the bicep of the arm. and set it ablaze. Then he leaped over to Ramses, and before Ramses could react, he began beating the man in the head with his own disembodied arm. One-two-three, the bicep came down like a hammer on his face, the flaps of tissue slapping Ramses in the face leaving disgusting streaks of fluids thereupon with every blow. The flames really didn't seem to have any real purpose, perhaps to keep the other man from taking his own arm back, perhaps it just enjoyed the flames, or maybe it was some other thing. The blackened bits from the arm flew off with each swing. The creature kept primitively beating at the opponent, and once he got about nine hits in, there was a gunshot and part of the creature's shoulder seemed to disappear. It dropped the arm and looked to see two security guards, both aiming at him. Its shoulder
"FREEZE!" one of them yelled.
The oily man looked back down at Ramses, his nose broken and bleeding, but his face surprisingly not nearly as damaged as it should have been. Most of his features remained in tact. Then the oil thing looked back at the guards and gave out a screech.
It seemed to fly across the room, dodging most of the bullets, save for one that went straight through his chest, the wound sealed itself with more oily mess. The creature faked left then went behind the two like a shadow to their right. He bit one of the guards jugular vein in the neck sending blood flying into the air, and he sliced the other guard's head almost completely off with his claw.
During this distraction, Ramses was readying his next attack. He was going to get revenge on this slime-ball and this incident with the guards presented the perfect opportunity...
-I'm Vgfian