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It is 'I' who have not thought this through?

*Azraels voice sneered from ten feet behind the shadow Roan*

If you were half the person whose appearance you copy, you should know enough about my abilities to know an attack like that is useless against me...

Shyunpo may be enough for evasion, but how am I supposed to damage this thing...

Of course, A Zanpaktou is not the only weapon of a Shinigami, maybe some Kidou (Demon Magic) would do the trick...

*Azrael pointed his index finger at Roan and cried aloud*

Destructive art 4: White Lightning!

*A beam of white spirit enerrgy fired from his finger in a powerful beam, heading straight towards the shadow Roan*

((note that despite the name this is not a lightning attack (as we all know that would be a waste of time razz )))

OOC::

Ok, sorry about the delay, been busy. I also had a reply for you Bard, but it got eaten, and that aggrivated me enough to go have a smoke, and by then the computer had been re-posessed. Here ya go, Trigger's response, take 2.

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Trigger::

As the hulking hell hound went in for the kill, a faint chuckle rang out, through a slight bubble of blood, and Trigger's form was engulfed by his aura. Before the large hell hound could take a bite, Trigger's size shrank, drastically.

As Cerberus' bit into the ground, the lycan now stood between two of its toes, back to his original form. Smirking, he darted off before the beast could realize what had taken place hopfully, and drew his right revolver. As he came out beneath andc behind Cerberus, he spun the chamber and poped a single round into his left arm.

With a loud grunt, and a short lasting aura of purple, he vanished. The round he had injected into himself was a reversed gravity round, making the already agile lycan light as a feather by comparison.

Appearing off to the right at some distance from Sophus, Trigger grinned, as he sailed through the air after appearing. With a stylish side jump, five shots rang out from the revolver, before he rolled across the ground, and quickly ejected the chamber, and searched for the spares he carried.

Five rounds, one a gravity round, not reversed which would slow the siren down, one a venom round, hopfully able to slow him further with illness, one boomer round, that even though not fired first, would reach the siren first due to the large amount of explosive energy packed into it, and finally, two rounds made from a plastic like material that would break on contact, filled with a chemical virus that feasted on globin, as in hemoglobin. This 'man made' virus was originally meant for warfare against cainites, however as every living creature depends on blood, it would work just as well.

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Surt::

Narrowing his eyes on Rake, towering over the abomination, Surt cracked a grin, and with just his right hand, held the beacon out t'ward Rake.

"Take a mouthful then, if you think you can reach me, little man."

And with that, the beacon was swallowed up by thin air, and the aura around him vanished. Moments later, the desert terrain around them was slickened with ice, as snow began to fall, heavier and heavier. Heaving with each breath, Surt's body gradually began to exert more and more heat.

It was then, that a duet of ear splitting howls rang out, and all manner of light that remained vanished. Skoll, the great wolf had devoured the sun, whilst his brother, Hati did so the moon. All of the stars vanished, and a series of crows rang out from Fjalar and Gullinkambi. another crow then shoock the slickened earth, and with it, came up the dead. As both an emmense army of corpses, and a mass of spirits, the dead rose.

Surt then clapped both his hulking hands together, and with that, the chaos and noise fell silent, before he whispered with a forked tongue.

"Fimbulvetr." (The winter of winters.)

Pure white, immposibly frozen temperatures, and shards of ice then flooded out from the demon king's form in all directions. It was more then enough to wash away the current war like a tidal wave.

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Corbin/Ragnarok::

Grinning, Abaddon found himself pleased with the results of this final release of the sword. Brushing his left fingers over the rough scales of his right arm, he listened appreciatively to the sound the sharp scales made, clattering against eachother as he played over them.

Ragnaork's barrier then appeared behind Abaddon, a series of six wings unfurling from around the orb, as it crumbled like an egg shell, Ragnarok already mid lunge with both swords he had picked up.

Opening his right eye, Abaddon spun to slash defensively with his sword, and in result, a ghost like tail appeared, coiled around Abaddon, however as he slashed through the two swords, the tail loosened, before lashing out in sync, representing the immense force exerted, that hurled Ragnarok away.

Coming to a halt, and hover, Ragnarok gave a gasp, as he noticed the large cut across the forearm of his right gauntlet, and the blood seeping out.

"I guess niether of them were your true blade, or perhaps one was, though still didn't stand a chance."

"Still you think I need my sword. Well i'm telling you now, cainite."

Throwing up his right hand, he pointed at Abaddon with an odd combination of fingers, runes lit at the tips, and at the same time, the runes appeared on Abaddon's right hand in the shape of a triangle.

"I dont."

Cocking a brow at the triangle on his hand, Abaddon then howled as the symbol exploded, ripping a decent chunk from his hand, forcing him to drop his sword.

"Why you wretched-!"

Abaddon then stopped short, as the explosion of winter weather raced out from Surt, and Ragnarok vanished. Growling, Abaddon spun once more to face the approaching shards and snow, slashing his right hand as he did so, manifesting the clawed talon of Nidhogg, which slashed and batted away the assault, safe guarding him as his eyes scanned for Ragnarok.

((*Shadow Roan*))

*It seemed, like the shadows before it, unphased by any of Azrael's comments or moves... until that is, this one was unleashed. Though its eyes showed no expression - possibly the very reason one could tell it was NOT in fact Roan - it was quite clear words along the lines of 'oh s**t' were running through its head. Twisting aside at teh last moment, Azrael's attack grazed it... however the graze in itself did not instantly close as the other shadows had done and instead it stayed open.
Hissing in annoyance, the shade spread its arms and from nowehere, there were now twenty copies of itself, each an exact replica, even in energy signature. Each weilding the replica Ferago, they attacked Azrael en mass, each whispering cruelties of the past, each seeking those moments Az had endured thanks to Roan in an effort to piss him off. Prehaps the worst however was the whipsers of his death that seemed to be accompanied by the painful images and feelings from that seemingly long-past time*

*It allowed Surt to perform his move, its eyes unimpressed and aloof as the move initiated, the wave of white ice obscurring all. Prehaps Surt had achieved its goal.... prehps one of teh daemons had fallen... but then again... Surt was no Ferago, no Damaris... no DeSeer. And as such.... the build up of snow covering all suddenly shifted, exploding upwards as one wings suddenly thrust its way upwards, followed by a second, then the full form of Rake, its grin crazed with amusement as it settled its wings back on its back, its feet resting lightly on the fresh snow*

Thanks for clearing the other half of the battlefield for us, weakling....

*It laughed, and spread its hands. Around its body, seven blades showed themselves, some insubstantial, some solid*

Tell us, greenhorn, how old are you? How old is Surt and what does he know? What does he know of primal chaos and the storm? Ice? Dont make us laugh. Think of that as strike one. Two more strikes, and you better HOPE we are not still standing afterwards becuase you'll be wishing you'd fucking shot yourself, little demonling, and saved yourself an eternity of agony. You have much to answer for and we're playing debt collector...

*Azrael cursed as all the Spirit Scarves around him flapped an identical grey. As the shades closed in and the electricity built up he could think of only one thing to do, and intelligent was unlikely to be the word for it

Clenching his fists he released a huge wave of firey Energy, powered by Kages rage. His hope was that this power surge would equal or better that of his attackers, being that theirs was only an imitation of Takes power*

I don't have time to let it attack, too many people are in danger and there's still Hades to deal with...

Besides now there's only one...

*Azrael held out his hand and quickly recited a silent chant and then shouted aloud*

DESTRUCTIVE ART 90: BLACK COFFIN!

*A large Cuboid of black energy gathered around the target Roan, and the sides suddenly spike outwards, as if hundreds of swords have been stabbed through it. The coffin disappears and if affected the target will have seemingly recieved hundreds of spirit energy charged sword wounds*

*Azrael shook his head and raised both hands*

Begone from my sight you abomination

DESTRUCTIVE ART 33: BLUE FIRE CRASH DOWN!

* A wide beam of blue spirit energy shot forth from his hands, this kidou being slightly weaker than White lightning, but with a much wider blast area*

*Azrael rapidly drew his Gunblade and held it in front of himself*

Chigasumi no Tate!

*Isodas blade once again grew in size to shield his body from the energy wave, Kage roaring fiercly as he matched the power level to keep Azrael safe

Looking around Azrael could sense something in the air*

What has happened...