Heroes: The Road of Good Intentions
- LadyTevar
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#1876
She knew what Legacies was doing. She felt what was driving Blackheart. The team had to move now.
"We don't need to drop down the shaft, Gravitas," Argent said, her voice carrying to the rest of the team. "I can take us down there. Be ready to start fighting immediately. A dozen men, heavily armored, with swords and other melee weapons." She spared a glance towards Blackheart and Legacies, who despite their ferocity were being pushed back, then looked back to the team. "We don't have time for discussion," she stated bluntly, exploding into her dragon form, encircling the team but for the two rearguard and teleporting the team below.
They appeared in the best defensive postion Argent could give them against what was down there: Blast and Tachyon in the center, the Monk and the Angel to either side, Gravitas, Hotfoot and Hydro in the center, the rock-filled elevator shaft at their back so nothing could hit them from behind. It was the best she could do before vanishing back upstairs. The team would have to fight on its own as she retrieved their leader.
Blackheart was one with the demon inside him, and did not show signs of stopping. Kill/Destroy/Protect. No Backing Down. No Stopping. No Surrender. It sang down the link she shared with him like a martial anthem. She had to get him back under control ... back to sanity. "BLACKHEART!" she shouted, wary of approaching him without warning. "Their Leader Is DownStairs!"
Lead us she pushed down the link between them as she snaked forward, yanking shadows from the elevator shaft to shove back the enemy around him, walling them off for a few vital moments. Protect Friends. Kill Enemy. Down/Below/Lower. "Come with me, Blackheart!" the long ebony dragon said, slipping beside him, trusting him not to mistake her for one of the enemy. "I will take you to the team. We need you down there."
She would get Blackheart. Then she would come back for Legacies. Leave none behind
"We don't need to drop down the shaft, Gravitas," Argent said, her voice carrying to the rest of the team. "I can take us down there. Be ready to start fighting immediately. A dozen men, heavily armored, with swords and other melee weapons." She spared a glance towards Blackheart and Legacies, who despite their ferocity were being pushed back, then looked back to the team. "We don't have time for discussion," she stated bluntly, exploding into her dragon form, encircling the team but for the two rearguard and teleporting the team below.
They appeared in the best defensive postion Argent could give them against what was down there: Blast and Tachyon in the center, the Monk and the Angel to either side, Gravitas, Hotfoot and Hydro in the center, the rock-filled elevator shaft at their back so nothing could hit them from behind. It was the best she could do before vanishing back upstairs. The team would have to fight on its own as she retrieved their leader.
Blackheart was one with the demon inside him, and did not show signs of stopping. Kill/Destroy/Protect. No Backing Down. No Stopping. No Surrender. It sang down the link she shared with him like a martial anthem. She had to get him back under control ... back to sanity. "BLACKHEART!" she shouted, wary of approaching him without warning. "Their Leader Is DownStairs!"
Lead us she pushed down the link between them as she snaked forward, yanking shadows from the elevator shaft to shove back the enemy around him, walling them off for a few vital moments. Protect Friends. Kill Enemy. Down/Below/Lower. "Come with me, Blackheart!" the long ebony dragon said, slipping beside him, trusting him not to mistake her for one of the enemy. "I will take you to the team. We need you down there."
She would get Blackheart. Then she would come back for Legacies. Leave none behind
Dogs are Man's Best Friend
Cats are Man's Adorable Little Serial Killers
- Cynical Cat
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#1877
"No!" shouted Blackheart. A skull cracked under the impact of his fist. "We'll still have to fight them anyway. Hit the leader."
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
- LadyTevar
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#1878
It was a moment before she could speak again, as the shadows pulled from the elevator shaft lashed at the incoming flood of demented creatures, slicing limbs and slashing bodies that seemed unstoppable.
"You idiot.." Argent shouted at Blackheart as the shadows took her anger out on the beasties out for blood. "We -don't- have to fight them! The wards are broken! I can teleport all the way to the first floor!" The shadows drew back, then shoved forward again as a solid wall, giving Blackheart a brief breather. "We need you both below. There's no reason to fight and die here. Are you coming?"
"You idiot.." Argent shouted at Blackheart as the shadows took her anger out on the beasties out for blood. "We -don't- have to fight them! The wards are broken! I can teleport all the way to the first floor!" The shadows drew back, then shoved forward again as a solid wall, giving Blackheart a brief breather. "We need you both below. There's no reason to fight and die here. Are you coming?"
Dogs are Man's Best Friend
Cats are Man's Adorable Little Serial Killers
- frigidmagi
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#1879
Blast hit the ground and his knees thankfully automatically flexed. He saw the armored men in front of him and hate coiled in him... Coiled and needed to be unleashed.
Another eye searing torrent leapt from his hands slamming into the armored monsters.
Another eye searing torrent leapt from his hands slamming into the armored monsters.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
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#1880
"They'll hit us from behind if we go below!" Blackheart yelled as he punched one in the throat. "That drop will barely slow them down. And I'm not dying here. Obey orders. Go and kick the bosses ass with the time I'm buying. Go!"
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
- LadyTevar
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#1881
Chinese is a very expressive language, and sounds nearly musical to a non-speaker. Thus, it's only the wave of anger and annoyance that would give Blackheart the hint that Argent was not saying nice happy things about him, his parentage, his personality, and his intelligence/common sense or lack thereof.
"Obey Orders?!" she finally shouted in English, once again using the only shadows she had access to for pushing back the horde once more. "FINE! I was ordered to fetch you." Without another word she lunged for Blackheart and wrapped him up in her coils, transporting away.
She positioned them carefully for their reappearance. Straight in front of Blast would be a Bad Idea. To the rear of the Legion was also a bad idea, as there might be more than the dozen she knew, and Blast might still hit them by accident. Thus, she emerged to the Legion's left, where Blackheart could hit the flank hard...
... once he was done yelling at her for once again teleporting him without permission.
"Obey Orders?!" she finally shouted in English, once again using the only shadows she had access to for pushing back the horde once more. "FINE! I was ordered to fetch you." Without another word she lunged for Blackheart and wrapped him up in her coils, transporting away.
She positioned them carefully for their reappearance. Straight in front of Blast would be a Bad Idea. To the rear of the Legion was also a bad idea, as there might be more than the dozen she knew, and Blast might still hit them by accident. Thus, she emerged to the Legion's left, where Blackheart could hit the flank hard...
... once he was done yelling at her for once again teleporting him without permission.
Dogs are Man's Best Friend
Cats are Man's Adorable Little Serial Killers
#1882
Hotfoot was quick to appraise the situation. Dodging all of the energy blasts would be difficult in the front, but watching for the ones that made it past the blasts could work. The distortion around his body flared again, the plasma resulting from the barrier intensifying. The first thing he did was make sure that nothing was a threat from the sides or rear by means of sweeping the area with his arms and body. If anything was hiding, it would get swept by an incredible heat and, hopefully, at least make some sort of noise.
When the initial sweep was done, he went to the next stage of his attack. He looked at where the blasters were aiming their attacks, then moved in to attack the areas that were not getting covered. At first, he started on the left side of the corridor. The punches were strong, much stronger than he should have been, but little stronger than a heavyweight fighter. The bulk of the damage came from the distortion surrounding his body interacting with the targets. He kept an eye on the other side of the corridor, ready to zip over and stop the enemies that tried to advance towards the rest of the team when the way between wasn't filled with violent energies from the rest of the team.
When the initial sweep was done, he went to the next stage of his attack. He looked at where the blasters were aiming their attacks, then moved in to attack the areas that were not getting covered. At first, he started on the left side of the corridor. The punches were strong, much stronger than he should have been, but little stronger than a heavyweight fighter. The bulk of the damage came from the distortion surrounding his body interacting with the targets. He kept an eye on the other side of the corridor, ready to zip over and stop the enemies that tried to advance towards the rest of the team when the way between wasn't filled with violent energies from the rest of the team.
- B4UTRUST
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#1883
When the team landed below the armored hulks were spread out in front of them. They were covered from head to toe in their armor that appeared to be char black and blood red, though beneath it all a close observer could see that it was once perhaps a very lighter shade of red and silver, and that it had probably been burned and darkened to those colors by some form of intense heat. The armor itself was adorned with no symbols of rank or title, but rather with the accoutrements expected from one of the Fallen. Blood-blackened spikes and bleached-white skulls admist other grisly fetishes and trophies. They stood their ground as the heroes appeared, unmoving at the moment, as if they were waiting for an order.
The one closest to the group absorbed the majority of Blast's punishment as the violent streams of energy slammed into the giant, rocking it. The armor on its chest was melted to so much slag from the barrage as it crossed its arms to stave off further damage. The gauntlets too began to smoke and liquify under the punishing heat.
Hotfoot's speedy barrage of punches served to knock them only slightly off balance and only for a second at most before they regained their center. The punches were strong for an unarmed fighter and would probably have severely hurt a lesser foe. But against such ancient titans as these it barely fazed them. Where the superheated fists struck the armor sizzled slightly and was burnt, barely noticible admist the darkness of the metal.
Further back behind the others one of them raised their hand and with a sudden move clenched their hand shut. From within the elevator shaft there was an explosion in the rocks, blasting large chunks of it free, sending them flying outwards into the rear of the team. This was followed by another swift movement of his other arm rising, two fingers pointed upwards. The ground in front of the Black and Tach erupted, throwing more stone into the air.
It was apparently the signal the team had been waiting for as almost all of them rushed the team then. When they closed within range their weapons moved with deadly grace to engage their enemies. The three that didn't charge fell back to cover their comrade who could project explosions.
The one closest to the group absorbed the majority of Blast's punishment as the violent streams of energy slammed into the giant, rocking it. The armor on its chest was melted to so much slag from the barrage as it crossed its arms to stave off further damage. The gauntlets too began to smoke and liquify under the punishing heat.
Hotfoot's speedy barrage of punches served to knock them only slightly off balance and only for a second at most before they regained their center. The punches were strong for an unarmed fighter and would probably have severely hurt a lesser foe. But against such ancient titans as these it barely fazed them. Where the superheated fists struck the armor sizzled slightly and was burnt, barely noticible admist the darkness of the metal.
Further back behind the others one of them raised their hand and with a sudden move clenched their hand shut. From within the elevator shaft there was an explosion in the rocks, blasting large chunks of it free, sending them flying outwards into the rear of the team. This was followed by another swift movement of his other arm rising, two fingers pointed upwards. The ground in front of the Black and Tach erupted, throwing more stone into the air.
It was apparently the signal the team had been waiting for as almost all of them rushed the team then. When they closed within range their weapons moved with deadly grace to engage their enemies. The three that didn't charge fell back to cover their comrade who could project explosions.
Saint Annihilus - Patron Saint of Dealing with Stupid Customers
- General Havoc
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#1884
Hydro had remained silent for a long time.
He did not understand where he was, or what he was doing here, but these were truly incidental questions now, for the flesh beasts he had fallen in among he had originally conceived of as interesting case studies, to be observed, and their movements and natures cataloged.
Now he was beginning to think otherwise.
Obviously they were here for a reason, they had explained it as the need to fight something or other, some force that was their enemy for reasons that no doubt made sense to those initiated fully into meta-flesh beast culture. There was talk of a place called 'Hell', and creatures called 'demons', that were apparently pyronic entities, though so far, the only pyronic entity Hydro had encountered here (save the one he had killed) was the meta-flesh beast named Hotfoot. Instead they had come across an increasingly weird assortment of what looked to be flesh beasts, but were clearly either badly mutated, or... something else altogether, most of which he had not had a chance to identify or catalog, because the metas had reduced them all to ash.
He had imagined this a fascinating opportunity. Now he was becoming worried.
Where were they? And who were these meta-flesh beasts? They killed... they killed almost reflexively it seemed. Granted, the first flesh beast had attacked them, but the second one they appeared to know, if he had interpreted their conversation correctly, and yet they incinerated it anyway, speaking of illusions and tricks and traps and whatnot, and then moved along with the offhand comment that he should avoid breaking any more wards... as though water on the ground could determine the locking mechanism of a door or not.
Under normal circumstances, he would have found this fascinating. In a way he did he supposed, but right now he was becoming more and more disturbed. Several of the flesh beasts did not appear to know one another well, and there was tension between them. They slaughtered everything they came across that even slightly inconvenienced them, but they had not killed him nor tried to, indeed they had assisted him when the pyronic entity had attacked. From this, he had deduced that they were likely telling the truth about their enmity with the pyronics, the 'demons', but why would such creatures, who barely trusted one another to avoid unleashing their powers, agree to permit him to acompany them, indeed they had suggested it!
... and why did he keep getting flashes of strange thoughts and feelings, fear and anger and a sensation that felt like being boiled alive again, but different entirely, one unpleasant and vile that sent shivers over his surface and bubbles rippling through him.
What in the name of the Great Singularity had he fallen into the middle of?
These were not normal flesh beasts, that much was clear. Were all metas like this? Impulsive? Violent? Dominance-obsessed? He had resolved that perhaps this was a good juncture to remain a silent observer for a change. There was too much at work here that he did not understand. They had come to another vertical transportation device, and were preparing to move down it. This did not seem an opportune moment to ask questions of anyone, which normally would not have stopped him, but he was beginning to worry about whether or not he should even be associating with these flesh beasts. They might, after all, be planning to bring him to their own containment facility after all. He could not rule out the possibility that several of them commanded the power to do this, particularly the one that spoke with such... authority. He had no sooner decided on this course of action, than several things occurred at once.
Violent things.
Very violent things.
Figures appeared from behind, others from below. Sounds of immediate combat erupted from all sides as several of the metas attacked reptilian flesh beasts streaming out of every direction. Several others engaged in remorseless fighting with Maker-knew-what below them. Hydro, not expecting such a thing, hesitated, unable to ascertain what was going on. That a battle had erupted was not hard to determine. What was happening within it was harder to follow.
What to do now? That was the real question.
Before he could generate an answer to it, the entire world vanished into shadow, and re-appeared in another place. It took Hydro a distressingly long time to realize that he had just changed physical locations, and as to how he had done this, spontaneously, in conjunction with almost all of the other meta-flesh beasts, and without his having physically traversed the intervening space...
... well you suggest an answer!
And now all of a sudden there were more flesh beasts here, though that term would have to be taken on faith, as Hydro could not actually detect any flesh within them. They were covered, core to extremities, in metal plates that served as armor of some kind, and many of them wielded large metallic bladed implements that Hydro had once taken to be cultural tools, and had learned only after having them immersed within his body many times were actually meant to be tools for causing harm to other flesh-beasts. One of them absorbed a blast of energy from the appropriately-named "Blast" that Hydro could simply tell should have been able to reduce the figure to ash and vapor, but it did not, while the one called "Hotfoot" beat with its extremities upon another figure, barely even shaking it. And then one of the figures from the back raised its limbs, and gestured with them, and there was the sound of an explosion from behind and rocks flew out at the meta-flesh beasts and at Hydro, propelled by the blast that had apparently materialized out of thin air. One of the larger rocks struck him dead on, and he exploded into sheets of water that were cast about in every direction, causing him absolutely no harm, but furthering his disorientation, and even as this happened, further waves of fear and aggression and Maker-knew-what-else flowed into his mind, feelings plainly not his own, but what in the name of all that existed did that mean? And where were they coming from? And what was causing them? And what was this place? And who were these meta-flesh beasts?!
Confused, lost, unable to understand what was happening, or process anything that was going on, Hydro's frustration exploded within him, and he reacted as only a frustrated water elemental could react. Nothing here made any sort of sense. Nothing obeyed the rules he was accustomed to.
He lashed out.
The puddle of water spread across the floor in which the combatants swayed and fought exploded all at once to life, leaping up off the ground like a lake disturbed by an underground explosion. Water vaulted into the air as though gravity had taken leave for a time, and coalesced into a solid stream that rose up, up, up towards the ceiling, and turned, and dove downwards with all the force of a pressure hose at full blast, straight at the figure who had caused the rocks to explode.
Several armored hulks lashed out at Hydro with metallic implements, but the slashes struck only water, and passed through with no effect whatsoever, and he flowed around and past them, paying them no mind. An instant later, a mass of enraged, frothing water, screaming like a tea kettle the size of a pipe organ, boiling and freezing by turns, barreled into the figure in question with the force of a pressurized geyser, and tried to force itself down the creature's throat, and into its lungs.
Fire could warm, and fire could burn. Air yielded oxygen, but it also yielded storms. Earth brought forth crops as easily as it did volcanos and landslides, and like the other elements, water, so vital to life, when brought to a fever pitch, and commanded to do so, could prove just as vital to the process of death.
One did not anger water itself without consequence.
He did not understand where he was, or what he was doing here, but these were truly incidental questions now, for the flesh beasts he had fallen in among he had originally conceived of as interesting case studies, to be observed, and their movements and natures cataloged.
Now he was beginning to think otherwise.
Obviously they were here for a reason, they had explained it as the need to fight something or other, some force that was their enemy for reasons that no doubt made sense to those initiated fully into meta-flesh beast culture. There was talk of a place called 'Hell', and creatures called 'demons', that were apparently pyronic entities, though so far, the only pyronic entity Hydro had encountered here (save the one he had killed) was the meta-flesh beast named Hotfoot. Instead they had come across an increasingly weird assortment of what looked to be flesh beasts, but were clearly either badly mutated, or... something else altogether, most of which he had not had a chance to identify or catalog, because the metas had reduced them all to ash.
He had imagined this a fascinating opportunity. Now he was becoming worried.
Where were they? And who were these meta-flesh beasts? They killed... they killed almost reflexively it seemed. Granted, the first flesh beast had attacked them, but the second one they appeared to know, if he had interpreted their conversation correctly, and yet they incinerated it anyway, speaking of illusions and tricks and traps and whatnot, and then moved along with the offhand comment that he should avoid breaking any more wards... as though water on the ground could determine the locking mechanism of a door or not.
Under normal circumstances, he would have found this fascinating. In a way he did he supposed, but right now he was becoming more and more disturbed. Several of the flesh beasts did not appear to know one another well, and there was tension between them. They slaughtered everything they came across that even slightly inconvenienced them, but they had not killed him nor tried to, indeed they had assisted him when the pyronic entity had attacked. From this, he had deduced that they were likely telling the truth about their enmity with the pyronics, the 'demons', but why would such creatures, who barely trusted one another to avoid unleashing their powers, agree to permit him to acompany them, indeed they had suggested it!
... and why did he keep getting flashes of strange thoughts and feelings, fear and anger and a sensation that felt like being boiled alive again, but different entirely, one unpleasant and vile that sent shivers over his surface and bubbles rippling through him.
What in the name of the Great Singularity had he fallen into the middle of?
These were not normal flesh beasts, that much was clear. Were all metas like this? Impulsive? Violent? Dominance-obsessed? He had resolved that perhaps this was a good juncture to remain a silent observer for a change. There was too much at work here that he did not understand. They had come to another vertical transportation device, and were preparing to move down it. This did not seem an opportune moment to ask questions of anyone, which normally would not have stopped him, but he was beginning to worry about whether or not he should even be associating with these flesh beasts. They might, after all, be planning to bring him to their own containment facility after all. He could not rule out the possibility that several of them commanded the power to do this, particularly the one that spoke with such... authority. He had no sooner decided on this course of action, than several things occurred at once.
Violent things.
Very violent things.
Figures appeared from behind, others from below. Sounds of immediate combat erupted from all sides as several of the metas attacked reptilian flesh beasts streaming out of every direction. Several others engaged in remorseless fighting with Maker-knew-what below them. Hydro, not expecting such a thing, hesitated, unable to ascertain what was going on. That a battle had erupted was not hard to determine. What was happening within it was harder to follow.
What to do now? That was the real question.
Before he could generate an answer to it, the entire world vanished into shadow, and re-appeared in another place. It took Hydro a distressingly long time to realize that he had just changed physical locations, and as to how he had done this, spontaneously, in conjunction with almost all of the other meta-flesh beasts, and without his having physically traversed the intervening space...
... well you suggest an answer!
And now all of a sudden there were more flesh beasts here, though that term would have to be taken on faith, as Hydro could not actually detect any flesh within them. They were covered, core to extremities, in metal plates that served as armor of some kind, and many of them wielded large metallic bladed implements that Hydro had once taken to be cultural tools, and had learned only after having them immersed within his body many times were actually meant to be tools for causing harm to other flesh-beasts. One of them absorbed a blast of energy from the appropriately-named "Blast" that Hydro could simply tell should have been able to reduce the figure to ash and vapor, but it did not, while the one called "Hotfoot" beat with its extremities upon another figure, barely even shaking it. And then one of the figures from the back raised its limbs, and gestured with them, and there was the sound of an explosion from behind and rocks flew out at the meta-flesh beasts and at Hydro, propelled by the blast that had apparently materialized out of thin air. One of the larger rocks struck him dead on, and he exploded into sheets of water that were cast about in every direction, causing him absolutely no harm, but furthering his disorientation, and even as this happened, further waves of fear and aggression and Maker-knew-what-else flowed into his mind, feelings plainly not his own, but what in the name of all that existed did that mean? And where were they coming from? And what was causing them? And what was this place? And who were these meta-flesh beasts?!
Confused, lost, unable to understand what was happening, or process anything that was going on, Hydro's frustration exploded within him, and he reacted as only a frustrated water elemental could react. Nothing here made any sort of sense. Nothing obeyed the rules he was accustomed to.
He lashed out.
The puddle of water spread across the floor in which the combatants swayed and fought exploded all at once to life, leaping up off the ground like a lake disturbed by an underground explosion. Water vaulted into the air as though gravity had taken leave for a time, and coalesced into a solid stream that rose up, up, up towards the ceiling, and turned, and dove downwards with all the force of a pressure hose at full blast, straight at the figure who had caused the rocks to explode.
Several armored hulks lashed out at Hydro with metallic implements, but the slashes struck only water, and passed through with no effect whatsoever, and he flowed around and past them, paying them no mind. An instant later, a mass of enraged, frothing water, screaming like a tea kettle the size of a pipe organ, boiling and freezing by turns, barreled into the figure in question with the force of a pressurized geyser, and tried to force itself down the creature's throat, and into its lungs.
Fire could warm, and fire could burn. Air yielded oxygen, but it also yielded storms. Earth brought forth crops as easily as it did volcanos and landslides, and like the other elements, water, so vital to life, when brought to a fever pitch, and commanded to do so, could prove just as vital to the process of death.
One did not anger water itself without consequence.
Gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair...
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
Havoc: "So basically if you side against him, he summons Cthulu."
Hotfoot: "Yes, which is reasonable."
- Cynical Cat
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#1885
It felt like he had been stabbed in the heart with an icicle. She had sworn she would obey orders. She had sworn she wouldn't teleport him against his will again. The bloodshed and horror in New York might have occurred even if she hadn't moved him, but by teleporting him he hadn't had a chance to stop it.
She had done worse this time. Legacies was now alone up there. Two against that horde was a tough fight. One against that horde was a virtual death sentence. She had yanked him out of the fight, abandoning one of his people to his death. And for what? So he could fight foes whose armour could withstand his strongest attack. There were no words for this.
Betrayal was an old companion. Welcoming embraces melted away to become cold stares and mistrust and then outright hatred. It was the story of his life. The pain was old and familiar. It was almost comforting. Black threads connected themselves to more brain cells.
Another part of his brain did not know betrayal because it did not know companionship in the same way it did not know love or mercy. Such things it knew secondhand, tasted like an exotic delicacy. It knew loneliness, although it did not dislike the sensation. That was normal. David Gray's pain was nothing to it because it did not consider such things painful.
Splinters of memories mixed. A small boy, reading comics beneath the covers with a flashlight. An ancient being, twisting in the darkness near the event horizon of one of the first black holes. The cold stare of a fat man in a recliner as he raised a beer to his lips. Unimaginable power used as a weapon while tearing unflesh with talons and fangs. The measuring stares of children eyeing a new arrival. Swimming through the corona of a star. A teenager looking to the sky and seeing the future he would chose for himself. The joy of rending an opponent and consuming all that it ever was.
Two different beings, coming together. Mixing and blending for years. A human mind and an inhuman will. New memories and ancient recollections blending. Human potential and alien power. Monstrous instincts and impulses and heroic ideals. Flesh and unflesh touching. Changing. Joining. Symbiosis. Merging. Fusion. Unity.
Doubt was gone. Weakness was gone. The internal war was over. He moved like a striking spider. They were stronger than he was and their armour could resist his most potent attack. One would outmatch him and they were many.
He seized a limb and twisted. Even the strongest being had comparatively vulnerable joints. His flash vision blazed, stabbing at the armpit joint, sliding over armour and probing for a weakspot. A voice as hollow as the void and possessing the heat of a blazing star came from Blackheart's throat. "Save Legacies."
She had done worse this time. Legacies was now alone up there. Two against that horde was a tough fight. One against that horde was a virtual death sentence. She had yanked him out of the fight, abandoning one of his people to his death. And for what? So he could fight foes whose armour could withstand his strongest attack. There were no words for this.
Betrayal was an old companion. Welcoming embraces melted away to become cold stares and mistrust and then outright hatred. It was the story of his life. The pain was old and familiar. It was almost comforting. Black threads connected themselves to more brain cells.
Another part of his brain did not know betrayal because it did not know companionship in the same way it did not know love or mercy. Such things it knew secondhand, tasted like an exotic delicacy. It knew loneliness, although it did not dislike the sensation. That was normal. David Gray's pain was nothing to it because it did not consider such things painful.
Splinters of memories mixed. A small boy, reading comics beneath the covers with a flashlight. An ancient being, twisting in the darkness near the event horizon of one of the first black holes. The cold stare of a fat man in a recliner as he raised a beer to his lips. Unimaginable power used as a weapon while tearing unflesh with talons and fangs. The measuring stares of children eyeing a new arrival. Swimming through the corona of a star. A teenager looking to the sky and seeing the future he would chose for himself. The joy of rending an opponent and consuming all that it ever was.
Two different beings, coming together. Mixing and blending for years. A human mind and an inhuman will. New memories and ancient recollections blending. Human potential and alien power. Monstrous instincts and impulses and heroic ideals. Flesh and unflesh touching. Changing. Joining. Symbiosis. Merging. Fusion. Unity.
Doubt was gone. Weakness was gone. The internal war was over. He moved like a striking spider. They were stronger than he was and their armour could resist his most potent attack. One would outmatch him and they were many.
He seized a limb and twisted. Even the strongest being had comparatively vulnerable joints. His flash vision blazed, stabbing at the armpit joint, sliding over armour and probing for a weakspot. A voice as hollow as the void and possessing the heat of a blazing star came from Blackheart's throat. "Save Legacies."
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
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#1886
Blackheart's feelings of betrayal stabbed at Li Na with equal ferocity, blazing down the link she'd set. It hurt, far worse than the rock shrapnel that sliced across the shadowy skin of her dragon form, opening cuts that touched her true flesh. Did he not realize she'd never leave Legacies alone? Did he not know she was planning to go back even now?
Then the Daemonheart made the last connections and merged with Blackheart, sending a chill down her spine that cowed her. Symbiosis. Fusion. Unity.
That he didn't kill her then and there did not reassure her, cowering back from him like a whipped dog before a raging master. The order given in that blazingly empty voice she knew was meant for herself alone.
She fled to the shadows. Once there, she launched herself up the elevator shaft, pulling the shadows within around her as armor and weapon as she burst out from the shattered entrance above.
Save Legacies. Emperor of Heaven save her if she failed ... because the BlackDæmon would not accept failure anymore.
Then the Daemonheart made the last connections and merged with Blackheart, sending a chill down her spine that cowed her. Symbiosis. Fusion. Unity.
That he didn't kill her then and there did not reassure her, cowering back from him like a whipped dog before a raging master. The order given in that blazingly empty voice she knew was meant for herself alone.
She fled to the shadows. Once there, she launched herself up the elevator shaft, pulling the shadows within around her as armor and weapon as she burst out from the shattered entrance above.
Save Legacies. Emperor of Heaven save her if she failed ... because the BlackDæmon would not accept failure anymore.
Last edited by LadyTevar on Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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#1887
The flow of energy that had momentarily linked him to Blast and allowed him to feed the meta's fountain of power ceased. The link was severed for a multitude of reasons, chief among them being that he could not adequately feed Blast energy and continue to be effective himself. Furthermore, with Blackheart and Legacies moving into the mix their avenues of destruction were limited. The situation was dire but not immediately fatal, although he admitted that the situation could at the first mistake spiral out of control.
The trick was not to make that mistake. He stopped firing for a second in order to "flicker" in place a blink that took him exactly to his current position. It was a wasted expenditure of energy but it was necessary, for the blinking process bestowed with it an enhanced perception of time. He needed every advantage he could get. Although he had the capability to shape energy to form various cutting instruments, melee was not his strong point.
The armor of their enemies seemed to be quite good at keeping torrents of energy at bay. As such, widescale and diffuse attacks seemed to be relatively pointless. He settled as a sniper would, and he began to assault joints. Emerald lances of energy each no more than half an inch in diameter blossomed and covered the distance between Tachyon and his intended targets in fractions of a second. They were concentrated attacks akin to a punching dagger seeking to pierce through a bullet proof vest.
Still, even as those terrible lances of energy were spat out in search of weakness and pain he could feel at the edges of his perception the encroaching feeling of exhaustion. The feeling was faint but he understood that at this rate, he would be reaching his limits in minutes. He could no longer afford to be careless. The pain in his right arm was dull and constant, he was getting used to it. As long as he did not move his arm too much it was little more than a nuisance and thankfully his powers allowed him to project energy from anywhere he wished. He was not looking forward to seeing his arm after all this was over.
Assuming they all survived. His mind seemed to whisper. Yes, there was always that.
He was far too preoccupied with deftly managing his depleting resources of strength to notice the sensations that suddenly slithered through his link to Argent. The process of finding a suitable target, condensing his power to a suitable degree and then shaping it into a half inch dagger of energy and projecting it was a process that was currently utilizing the bulk of his attention. In conjunction with the ever present sensation of encroaching exhaustion and the pain in his arm they forged a flood of information that his brain was busily trying to process. Nothing short of tangible physical harm to Argent would be able to slither past his near absolute concentration on the task at hand.
edit: reading comprehension ftl
The trick was not to make that mistake. He stopped firing for a second in order to "flicker" in place a blink that took him exactly to his current position. It was a wasted expenditure of energy but it was necessary, for the blinking process bestowed with it an enhanced perception of time. He needed every advantage he could get. Although he had the capability to shape energy to form various cutting instruments, melee was not his strong point.
The armor of their enemies seemed to be quite good at keeping torrents of energy at bay. As such, widescale and diffuse attacks seemed to be relatively pointless. He settled as a sniper would, and he began to assault joints. Emerald lances of energy each no more than half an inch in diameter blossomed and covered the distance between Tachyon and his intended targets in fractions of a second. They were concentrated attacks akin to a punching dagger seeking to pierce through a bullet proof vest.
Still, even as those terrible lances of energy were spat out in search of weakness and pain he could feel at the edges of his perception the encroaching feeling of exhaustion. The feeling was faint but he understood that at this rate, he would be reaching his limits in minutes. He could no longer afford to be careless. The pain in his right arm was dull and constant, he was getting used to it. As long as he did not move his arm too much it was little more than a nuisance and thankfully his powers allowed him to project energy from anywhere he wished. He was not looking forward to seeing his arm after all this was over.
Assuming they all survived. His mind seemed to whisper. Yes, there was always that.
He was far too preoccupied with deftly managing his depleting resources of strength to notice the sensations that suddenly slithered through his link to Argent. The process of finding a suitable target, condensing his power to a suitable degree and then shaping it into a half inch dagger of energy and projecting it was a process that was currently utilizing the bulk of his attention. In conjunction with the ever present sensation of encroaching exhaustion and the pain in his arm they forged a flood of information that his brain was busily trying to process. Nothing short of tangible physical harm to Argent would be able to slither past his near absolute concentration on the task at hand.
edit: reading comprehension ftl
Last edited by Marcao on Sun Jan 06, 2008 3:09 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
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"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
#1888
Legacies did not notice Blackheart's disappearance at first, but soon it became apparent that he was alone in his battle. Legacies only slowed his continual plowing through the ranks of the minor creatures long enough to make certain Blackheart had not fallen to them before he continued.
Facing a greater influx now Legacies increased the speed of his attacks, burning himself out faster, straining both body and symbiote to it's maximum capability. The smaller creatures died in droves, their corpses not even seeming to slow Legacies as he plowed into their ranks. One long blade managed to slide past his defenses and dive deep into the silver figures side. For it's trouble the creature was crushed under the force of a symbiotic mace and sent flying against a wall which shuddered with the impact.
Seeing he was making little progress now Legacies tried a different approach. Tendrils lashed out into the ceiling, ripping and tearing through it as though it were nothing, in moments a good portion of the cieling became unstable and threatened to collapse. Hopefully blocking the way to the rest of the team.
As the ceiling bagan to collapse, Legacies launched himself forward again, it was time to greet whatever was making the loud thumps.
Facing a greater influx now Legacies increased the speed of his attacks, burning himself out faster, straining both body and symbiote to it's maximum capability. The smaller creatures died in droves, their corpses not even seeming to slow Legacies as he plowed into their ranks. One long blade managed to slide past his defenses and dive deep into the silver figures side. For it's trouble the creature was crushed under the force of a symbiotic mace and sent flying against a wall which shuddered with the impact.
Seeing he was making little progress now Legacies tried a different approach. Tendrils lashed out into the ceiling, ripping and tearing through it as though it were nothing, in moments a good portion of the cieling became unstable and threatened to collapse. Hopefully blocking the way to the rest of the team.
As the ceiling bagan to collapse, Legacies launched himself forward again, it was time to greet whatever was making the loud thumps.
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#1889
Argent swirled out of the elevator shaft to look upon a charnel house. The mangled bloody corpses left by Blackheart and Legacies' counterattack lay spawled in the hallway, several meters back from the elevator. To Argent's relief, the blood and bodies obscured the ever-present lights shining from floor, walls, and ceiling, giving her far more shadows to play with than before.
She moved into those shadows, a visible, moving hump raising the shadow's surface as she passed like an orca cruising the shallows near a beach. Not quite deep enough to hold her completely, the shadows would also make her more vulnerable to attack, but that was a chance she had to take. Save Legacies the fusion of Blackheart and Daemon had ordered. Argent did not want to think about what would happen if she failed.
She caught sight of Legacies as he attacked the ceiling, digging in and tearing it apart before leaping on down the hall to avoid the falling debris. "Legacies! Wait!"
She could tell he didn't hear, and she was forced to pause and finish off the creatures not slain by the rockfall to keep them from continuing to the elevator. Their minds, whether simple by birth or made that way by their confinement here, seemed locked in a fight/flight mode; fighting her only because she was stopping them from fleeing.
Argent suddenly had a very bad feeling about the source of the louder thumping sounds heading in the direction Legacies vanished.
She moved into those shadows, a visible, moving hump raising the shadow's surface as she passed like an orca cruising the shallows near a beach. Not quite deep enough to hold her completely, the shadows would also make her more vulnerable to attack, but that was a chance she had to take. Save Legacies the fusion of Blackheart and Daemon had ordered. Argent did not want to think about what would happen if she failed.
She caught sight of Legacies as he attacked the ceiling, digging in and tearing it apart before leaping on down the hall to avoid the falling debris. "Legacies! Wait!"
She could tell he didn't hear, and she was forced to pause and finish off the creatures not slain by the rockfall to keep them from continuing to the elevator. Their minds, whether simple by birth or made that way by their confinement here, seemed locked in a fight/flight mode; fighting her only because she was stopping them from fleeing.
Argent suddenly had a very bad feeling about the source of the louder thumping sounds heading in the direction Legacies vanished.
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#1890
Large sections of the ceiling cracked and ripped free, falling onto the masses that Legacies fought. Many were smashed and killed instantly by the debris while others layed trapped and pinned, suffering greatly before dying of their wounds.
Legacies' search for the source of the sound was a short one. As he rounded a corner into one of the cross corridors he was greeted by the sight of another horde of the monsters running straight at them. Though, unlike the others they didn't bother to attack him. They ran as fas as they could, streaming past him, running in abject fear of something.
That something stormed around the corner at the far end of the corridor. A small group of the things were massed at its feet, assaulting it. The it in question stood over twenty foot tall and was chissled like some tiny god made form. It was completely hairless and to all appearances, equally sexless. The thing had two sets of arms and when it stepped the ground shook. Several chains hung suspended from piercings covering the creature's body. The thick iron chains swayed and moved as it did, their broken ends scraping the ground at times. Each link of the giant chains were nearly as thick as a man's waist.
The creatures at its feet attacking it had done damage to it already, though the true extent was unknown at this distance. Dozens of streams of blood flowed from wounds across its body. In its wake the crushed bodies of its foes lay broken. As one of the otherwise huge manbeasts assaulted it, it grabbed the body and tore it in two. With a flick of each arm it sent the two halves splattering into the walls on either side of it.
With an single kick it sent another of the beasts flying, sailing through the air to smack messily into the wall behind Legacies. Blood and gore streaked the wall as the body slid to the floor, crumpling into a broken, boneless pile.
It bent slightly at the waist and backhanded a half dozen of the creatures away from it, clearing a path before it. It continued its advance down the hall, killing anything in its path.
----------------
The battle below seemed to be fairing quite well for the regrouped team.
Blackheart surged forward and applied a creative tactic to the situation by jointlocking one of the hell knights. With the arm twisted to the point of breaking it struggled to strike at Blackheart, to pry itself free of the monsterous grip applied. The flash vision seemed like it once again would fail to pierce the thick demonplate. As Blackheart concentrated his assault on the weak points in the armor, it began to work. The flash beam bore through the armor and began to vaporize the entity inside. Whatever flesh was contained within was cooked, as the armor fell lifeless.
Tach's focused assault proved to be fairly effective. Dagger-like beams of light managed to break through and pierce the armor after a few seconds of concentrated attack. The bodies contained within found themselves with multiple holes in their armor and flesh. It didn't outright kill them, but it hurt them.
Hydro's barrage slammed into the armored figure, the sheer force and pressure exerted crumpling the thick plates around the barrel chest. It fell beneath the onslaught, the water pouring over it. It didn't immediately move after the attack stopped, suggesting that it was either dead(or as dead as a demon truely gets, at any rate) or severely injured. Either was quite likely, given the damage to the armor. Entire sections were crumpled and broken.
Legacies' search for the source of the sound was a short one. As he rounded a corner into one of the cross corridors he was greeted by the sight of another horde of the monsters running straight at them. Though, unlike the others they didn't bother to attack him. They ran as fas as they could, streaming past him, running in abject fear of something.
That something stormed around the corner at the far end of the corridor. A small group of the things were massed at its feet, assaulting it. The it in question stood over twenty foot tall and was chissled like some tiny god made form. It was completely hairless and to all appearances, equally sexless. The thing had two sets of arms and when it stepped the ground shook. Several chains hung suspended from piercings covering the creature's body. The thick iron chains swayed and moved as it did, their broken ends scraping the ground at times. Each link of the giant chains were nearly as thick as a man's waist.
The creatures at its feet attacking it had done damage to it already, though the true extent was unknown at this distance. Dozens of streams of blood flowed from wounds across its body. In its wake the crushed bodies of its foes lay broken. As one of the otherwise huge manbeasts assaulted it, it grabbed the body and tore it in two. With a flick of each arm it sent the two halves splattering into the walls on either side of it.
With an single kick it sent another of the beasts flying, sailing through the air to smack messily into the wall behind Legacies. Blood and gore streaked the wall as the body slid to the floor, crumpling into a broken, boneless pile.
It bent slightly at the waist and backhanded a half dozen of the creatures away from it, clearing a path before it. It continued its advance down the hall, killing anything in its path.
----------------
The battle below seemed to be fairing quite well for the regrouped team.
Blackheart surged forward and applied a creative tactic to the situation by jointlocking one of the hell knights. With the arm twisted to the point of breaking it struggled to strike at Blackheart, to pry itself free of the monsterous grip applied. The flash vision seemed like it once again would fail to pierce the thick demonplate. As Blackheart concentrated his assault on the weak points in the armor, it began to work. The flash beam bore through the armor and began to vaporize the entity inside. Whatever flesh was contained within was cooked, as the armor fell lifeless.
Tach's focused assault proved to be fairly effective. Dagger-like beams of light managed to break through and pierce the armor after a few seconds of concentrated attack. The bodies contained within found themselves with multiple holes in their armor and flesh. It didn't outright kill them, but it hurt them.
Hydro's barrage slammed into the armored figure, the sheer force and pressure exerted crumpling the thick plates around the barrel chest. It fell beneath the onslaught, the water pouring over it. It didn't immediately move after the attack stopped, suggesting that it was either dead(or as dead as a demon truely gets, at any rate) or severely injured. Either was quite likely, given the damage to the armor. Entire sections were crumpled and broken.
Saint Annihilus - Patron Saint of Dealing with Stupid Customers
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#1891
Hector held his borrowed rifle one-handed, as though it were a pistol. Firing it, the muscles in his meaty forearm rippled, keeping it aimed straight through brute strength. Sending armor-piercing rounds at the ones in the back, he launched himself at the nearest unengaged enemy, only dropping the gun at the last second. Again, raw physical power was the modus operandi. A palm strike delived to the jaw had the look of some kind of trained fighting style. Hector seized his enemy's arms and hopped, planting his feet against the armored man's chest. This one was clearly no trained form, as only someone obscenely strong such as Hector or Blackheart could hope to make it work.
Pushing against the thick armored chestplate, he tried to rip both of his enemy's arms out of their sockets.
Pushing against the thick armored chestplate, he tried to rip both of his enemy's arms out of their sockets.
Remember: Die angry, and leave a heavy corpse.
"A + B = KNIFE!"
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"A + B = KNIFE!"
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#1892
Blackheart's foe fell. The metahuman rolled free of the corpse and threw a diving tackle at the armoured fighter at the rear of the line. Take him out and the enemy would be beset from both sides. Sounded good in theory. Now to try it in practice.
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
#1893
Legacies pulled the dagger from it's silvery sheath and swung it in a near blur. Moments later the silver figure yelled out "Fire!", and a half-dozen green arrows flew from the dagger, zooming towards the great lumbering beast. Legacies prepared for another shot of green arrows as thick tendrils lashed out, digging into the wall around him and ripping out giant chunks of stone, hurling them towards the giant creature's head.
"Hmmm, we think you may finally be a challenge." spoke the silver creature as it prepared for a counterattack.
"Hmmm, we think you may finally be a challenge." spoke the silver creature as it prepared for a counterattack.
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#1894
"Legacies!"
The silver form vanished around the corner even as Argent called for him, leaving her facing the swarm of terrified monstrosities as they ran for shelter from something she had yet to see. Unfortunately, the direction they were running to would lead them to the elevator shaft, and to the team.
She had to save Legacies.
She had to guard the team's rear.
Legacies was ahead and fighting strongly
The monsters were too close to the team.
Which would Legacies have done?
Where the ceiling had fallen, the ambient light of the hallway was broken, thrown into shadow. The piles of masonry and even the bodies on the softly-lit floor added more shadows to hide within and strike. Argent used it well; shadow blades sliced and severed, tendrils caught and squeezed, as the obsidian and silver dragon fought the horde unaided.
The monsters fought back, claws scoring her shadow-flesh as Argent slid from shadow to shadow and target to target. She ignored as much of it as she could, cushioned somewhat by the nature of her dragon-form, but a few of the blows drew true blood as she killed as quickly and as many as possible.
Only once these were dead could she follow Legacies.
The silver form vanished around the corner even as Argent called for him, leaving her facing the swarm of terrified monstrosities as they ran for shelter from something she had yet to see. Unfortunately, the direction they were running to would lead them to the elevator shaft, and to the team.
She had to save Legacies.
She had to guard the team's rear.
Legacies was ahead and fighting strongly
The monsters were too close to the team.
Which would Legacies have done?
Where the ceiling had fallen, the ambient light of the hallway was broken, thrown into shadow. The piles of masonry and even the bodies on the softly-lit floor added more shadows to hide within and strike. Argent used it well; shadow blades sliced and severed, tendrils caught and squeezed, as the obsidian and silver dragon fought the horde unaided.
The monsters fought back, claws scoring her shadow-flesh as Argent slid from shadow to shadow and target to target. She ignored as much of it as she could, cushioned somewhat by the nature of her dragon-form, but a few of the blows drew true blood as she killed as quickly and as many as possible.
Only once these were dead could she follow Legacies.
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#1895
Blackheart's tackle took the demon warrior off his feet. They landed in a tangle. Incredible strong hands closed around Blackheart's arms. He tried to brake free. They held him pinned. The demon warrior laughed and smashed him hard against the wall. Cracks spider webbed away from Blackheart's body.
The demon swung him against the other wall. The corridor shook. Blackheart's body slumped down the wall, leaving a smear of blood. The demon grabbed him by the ankles, raised his body over its shoulders and slammed him into the floor. Blackheart's head lolled.
The demon's boot smashed down into his short ribs. They broke with a loud crack. The pain jolted him back to consciousness. Agony and cruel laughter greated him. His gaze locked with the eyeslit of the demon's armour.
The hallway was briefly illuminated by stark white light. Smoke rose from the demon's helmet and then the headless corpse fell. "Impressive," said a voice behind him.
Armoured hands closed around his skull. Jagged blades slid out from the thumbs of the demon's gauntlets. "No more of that," the demon said and pressed his thumbs down. A ragged scream and bloody froth came from Blackheart's lips to match the spray of the blood and optical fluid from his eyes.
The demon swung him against the other wall. The corridor shook. Blackheart's body slumped down the wall, leaving a smear of blood. The demon grabbed him by the ankles, raised his body over its shoulders and slammed him into the floor. Blackheart's head lolled.
The demon's boot smashed down into his short ribs. They broke with a loud crack. The pain jolted him back to consciousness. Agony and cruel laughter greated him. His gaze locked with the eyeslit of the demon's armour.
The hallway was briefly illuminated by stark white light. Smoke rose from the demon's helmet and then the headless corpse fell. "Impressive," said a voice behind him.
Armoured hands closed around his skull. Jagged blades slid out from the thumbs of the demon's gauntlets. "No more of that," the demon said and pressed his thumbs down. A ragged scream and bloody froth came from Blackheart's lips to match the spray of the blood and optical fluid from his eyes.
It's not that I'm unforgiving, it's that most of the people who wrong me are unrepentant assholes.
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#1896
Blast targeted the demon attacking Blackheart and opened fire. His hand swept forward and eye burning silent brightness leapt from it towards the demon.
"Die!" Blast snarled.
"Die!" Blast snarled.
"it takes two sides to end a war but only one to start one. And those who do not have swords may still die upon them." Tolken
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#1897
As below, so above, as two of the team continued to fight alone against the demons freed from their rooms. Argent danced from shadow to shadow, using what little cover they gave to keep the demons off-guard and unable to strike her. Then pain made the shadow dragon solid momentarily -- not hers, but another's agony screaming down the link inside Argent's mind. The demons around her took advantage, slicing the draconic shadowform with jagged claws as they tried to escape the doom chasing them. Long slices appeared upon the shadow-dragon's body, over lesser wounds dealt before, cutting deeper to the more human body sheltering within the shadows.
Her own pain mixed with the phantom agony of Blackheart's broken ribs, yet Argent did not let it reflect back down her links to the team. She would not let it touch them or distract them. She needed the pain far more. The demons around her were nearly emotionless, knowing only fear and hunger. She had been unable to make them empathize with her until now, unable to get inside their hearts and minds. Now, she had the weapon to break them.
As she'd done in Chicago, Argent reached down the link to Blackheart, echoing his screams as his eyes were pulped by the armored demon he fought. She pulled on his pain, drawing all but a ghost of it away, down into herself -- and out again, cranking the stolen pain up to eleven and feeding it to the demons fighting around her. Almost as one, they fell to the ground, clawing their own eyes out in shared agony as Argent looped the sensation over and over again inside their psyches, killing them from within.
Her own pain mixed with the phantom agony of Blackheart's broken ribs, yet Argent did not let it reflect back down her links to the team. She would not let it touch them or distract them. She needed the pain far more. The demons around her were nearly emotionless, knowing only fear and hunger. She had been unable to make them empathize with her until now, unable to get inside their hearts and minds. Now, she had the weapon to break them.
As she'd done in Chicago, Argent reached down the link to Blackheart, echoing his screams as his eyes were pulped by the armored demon he fought. She pulled on his pain, drawing all but a ghost of it away, down into herself -- and out again, cranking the stolen pain up to eleven and feeding it to the demons fighting around her. Almost as one, they fell to the ground, clawing their own eyes out in shared agony as Argent looped the sensation over and over again inside their psyches, killing them from within.
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#1898
The demons fighting the main group fell one by one to the onslaught. They made a fight for every inch gained but eventually it was done. As the last armor-clad body fell the hallway fell quiet. Tendrils of smoke rose from some of the charred sets of armor and the stench of something burning choked the air. The walls and floor were slick with blood and other fluids where they weren't cratered, dented, or blackened.
------------
Above, the battle for the duo did not fare so well. The hordes fell about Argent as she emotionally crippled them much like an insane overly-protective mother to her only son. However, instead of confining them to their rooms for their own good she sentenced them to a private hell of pain made manifest inside their minds, inescapable and unstoppable by their likes.
Clutching heads, rending flesh with nails and ripping their own eyes from their sockets in a vain effort to cease the endless searing torture that flooded their minds and bodies were common reactions in her presence this day. But their numbers seemed endless, and while a woman's rage and anger is surely unto like a tiny hell, vast and bountiful, it is not nearly so infinite.
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Legacies' light arrows struck the mammoth beast and faded, leaving obvious signs of the body being pierced as tiny drops of blood began to flow. It seemingly ignored this damage, viewing it as minor or even negligible. Another of the creatures surrounding it was crushed beneath its feet as it advanced ceaselessly. It grabbed one of the beastmen that attempted to claw its way up the giant's leg and slammed it into the rough wall next to it. The body was embeded into the stone in a nice, neat hole.
With a kick of its leg it send a couple of the less attentive horde members flying towards Legacies.
------------
Above, the battle for the duo did not fare so well. The hordes fell about Argent as she emotionally crippled them much like an insane overly-protective mother to her only son. However, instead of confining them to their rooms for their own good she sentenced them to a private hell of pain made manifest inside their minds, inescapable and unstoppable by their likes.
Clutching heads, rending flesh with nails and ripping their own eyes from their sockets in a vain effort to cease the endless searing torture that flooded their minds and bodies were common reactions in her presence this day. But their numbers seemed endless, and while a woman's rage and anger is surely unto like a tiny hell, vast and bountiful, it is not nearly so infinite.
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Legacies' light arrows struck the mammoth beast and faded, leaving obvious signs of the body being pierced as tiny drops of blood began to flow. It seemingly ignored this damage, viewing it as minor or even negligible. Another of the creatures surrounding it was crushed beneath its feet as it advanced ceaselessly. It grabbed one of the beastmen that attempted to claw its way up the giant's leg and slammed it into the rough wall next to it. The body was embeded into the stone in a nice, neat hole.
With a kick of its leg it send a couple of the less attentive horde members flying towards Legacies.
Saint Annihilus - Patron Saint of Dealing with Stupid Customers
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#1899
Michael looked around the group, then to a hatch in the floor. "It is time." He said, looking back at hte group. "Contact your shadow demon to take your team and get out. You're journey here is at an end." He said. The angel bent down opening the hatch.
As the hatch opened, Michael look to Mirage team. "I will wait till you have gone before I destroy this place." He said, standing again.
As the hatch opened, Michael look to Mirage team. "I will wait till you have gone before I destroy this place." He said, standing again.
Last edited by Agent Fisher on Thu Jan 31, 2008 7:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Morpheus:I remember that I am here not because of the path that lies before me but because of the path that lies behind me.
#1900
He wasn’t exactly sure of what was going on around him. In a fight it was not a good place to be, but at the moment he could hardly fight against the temptation to focus fully on what was occurring before him. He was going instincts painfully aware that he could not afford to not focus completely on the task at hand. It was at this point a matter of survival for more than the apparent reason.
He had released so far an impressive torrent of energy. He had fought before, but never quite to this extent. The conflicts in his prior memory were sudden and brief, like the last breath of a dying star before it turned into a supernova. He could not recall a single instance where he had released so much energy over such a prolonged duration. He could not afford to waste an ounce of his power and as such he focused on the crafting of his condensed energy bolts and releasing them towards their target. It was something that he was becoming quite proficient at.
“Why won’t you die!?â€
He had released so far an impressive torrent of energy. He had fought before, but never quite to this extent. The conflicts in his prior memory were sudden and brief, like the last breath of a dying star before it turned into a supernova. He could not recall a single instance where he had released so much energy over such a prolonged duration. He could not afford to waste an ounce of his power and as such he focused on the crafting of his condensed energy bolts and releasing them towards their target. It was something that he was becoming quite proficient at.
“Why won’t you die!?â€
The Peddler of Half Truths.
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood
"Not OP, therefore weakest." - Cynical Cat (May 2016)
"A dog doesn’t need to show his teeth as long as his growl’s deep enough, his food bowl is full and he knows where all the bones are buried." - Frank Underwood