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 Posted: Fri Dec 01, 2006 12:23 pm
::Walter slipped the scroll from the inside pocket of his hooded coat, and his face turned deathly serious. While Walters face usually carries a measure of formalily and general serious, for the moment it seemed as i what he was about to say or discuss, in no context, could even be slightly misconstrued as a laughing matter.::
In a few moments, I'm going to ask you to disregard that warning and do just that.
::He popped open a seal on the red leather scroll releasing a billow of steam.::
The fire god will rise up within you, as I foretold, you will be clothed in his armor. From whatever prison he was held in, he will be set free. He will fill you with a burning rage, amplifying your own anger until it consumes you entirely. Your blood will burn like liquid fire. Your body will become a vessel directly channeling the powers of the Efreet, power like you may never have felt before. And under this strain...you must maintain control. Only for a few fleeting seconds, though I promise you it will seem like an eternity.
::He opened the scroll, just partial, steam rising from the sheet of red leather. The words looked as if they were scorched into the skin before it was sliced free. He deliberately coughed to clear his voice, and adjusted his monacle. And then, his dark eyes rose to meet Vahn.::
If you are ready, let us begin.
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Posted: Fri Dec 01, 2006 9:55 pm
"Sounds like a regular picnic." Reaching to his back, he grasped hold of the Fang's handle and freed it from the Hand's self made sheath on his back-- the wrapping fading away to nothing.
He gave the flamberge a single turn, before the entire thing would end up spinning into the air above him.
"I suppose this is what they call irony--- the thing I helped to kill and keep captive-- that all my friends died against-- we've all come a full circle now!"
His right arm was bent at the elbow, even as the wristlet responded, growing and expanding into a shock of black and red substance, the sound of heat hissing loudly, as he felt the steady throbbing beat.
--!
As the Hand fully formed along Vahn's right arm, the flamberge finished it's revolutions and landed with a smack right in his open hand.
There was a deafening silence...
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 5:25 am
Incendia!
::The silence was broken by Walters proclamation. As if ordered into being steam began to rose, deep beneath the snow a firey glow rose up, instantly tranforming the snow above it into steam with an intense blast of heat. The snow hissed and melted, as this glow began to move, tracing a glowing path around Vah and forming a very complex magical circle. From the direction and flow of the designs it seemed made to keep something within as opposed to let something out.
Vahn would feel a rush, like the sort of battle high you get when your straight in the core of combat. When you feel the gnashing of steel on steel, and impact of fist to flesh. That almost overpowering feeling every fighter gets that just kicks them into overdrive and shoves them from one fight to the next to the next, opponent after opponent until the war is done. All without thought, all without reason, just pure flowing instinct.
You see it was in no way evil, but evil never truly is. The truth of the matter is that it was that very high that would serve as an addiction. It would rise up like a powerful drug filling its owner with enough power to make him feel invincible. To make him feel like a god. No, like he could defeat any and every god. Vahn would feel unstoppable.
But what stood before Walter, was a man enraptured in flame, his crimson armor glistening in the flames which forged it. The old butler had watched the armlet grow, and expand as if it was alive, stretching up Vahn's arm, and across his chest, then down his opposing arm, and soon in a matter of minutes it was across his entire body. Vahn was coverd in the armor of Efreet. He would be filled with a feeling of immortality.
Yet on the outside Walter saw a man with a deathly angry look on his face, and eyes which screamed for blood. The Power, would try and make the warrior feel as though he had everything he could ever want or need. On the outside, as fought through the millions of foes that would undoubtedly try and "vanquish" him. Vahn would probably never realize he was slicing through millions of innocents.
It was a curse of the mind.
Walter continued to chant, though his words seemed silent against the roar of the flame, and the pull go forth and "save" his lost best friend. This was not a matter of controlling a dark evil...this was a matter of resisting everything he could ever dream for.::
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 11:39 am
[Snow Patrol - Set The Fire To The Third Bar]
His eyes widened in surprise even as he tried to turn his head to the sides; unable to do so as the amount of pressure that suddenly swelled forced him in place.
The increase in heat forced his clothing to flap around his body, beads of sweat running rivets down his forehead and the side of his neck.
All the worries, the subtle sting of cold, and the pain he felt in his heart simply melted away; as if everything he was had been pushed into a sphere of molded flame-- which slowly melted until at the core remained nothing but a man.
Curled into the fetal position, the man fell free from the remains of the sphere, falling directly into a pool of nothing but white, the entire background pitch black.
All he felt was the heat, even as he continued to drift inward, still curled tightly.
Until that sea emptied out at the bottom and the man lay upon a bedrock of weapons.
Each one was stained, through and through- cycled repeatedly as they were picked up and then thrown aside, to the content of another man. His face was completely blank, the same for the one who simply laid there.
Foe after foe was cut down, run through and simply done away with as weapon after weapon was grabbed.
On the outside, the ehat continued to build, even as Vahn was wrapped in the flames. His cries echoed out as nothing but a primal roar of the last dredges of humanity within him. His body had become covered in heat, wrapped and conforming-- to a much greater degree than had ever been previously seen.
He wasn't just wearing the flame.... he was the flame.
His fingers were curled, as if seeking throats to crush and rip, blood dripping from his eyes and his hair standing on end.
Wake up.
(1/4)
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 12:25 pm
Wake up.
The man remained in the fetal position even as the voice continued to grow in volume. The voice persisted, until yellowed eyes opened.
The first thing he noticed was how pure the surface of the ice reflected his image back at him. He wore nothing, and yet felt no change, even as he lifted his body up off the floor.
He had been here before.
That cold throne, and blank void.
The sudden scream of a woman brought his attention to the side, as he struggled to move forward. He saw an adolscent, no older than fourteen, give or take-- standing over the body of a woman. His hands were bloody and the dagger was still wet.
"It's cold." The boy spoke softly, even as he touched the dagger to his cheek.
The man looked away, as the shadow of the boy grew and grew into that of an adult. But the body remained the same.
He continued walking towards the throne, leaving the boy to fend for himself. His breath came harder and harder, as the distance seemed to grow.
"I'm sorry... Vahn..." The man shut his eyes, refusing to look, even as the woman's voice became lower and lower. She lay sprawled out in the same boy's arms, his hand pressed tightly against her red-stained abdomen.
"I'm sorry too."
The man opened his eyes, tears coming down his face.
He finally faltered, falling to his knees before that throne of ice, shivering madly as he wrapped his arms around his chest.
Sorry piece of trash....
The voice drifted out once more, even as the second man took his place on that throne.
Never understood. What you were. What you are. What you are becoming.
Lord knows I tried... but you kept shutting me up... wouldn't let me take care of you...
The man on the throne smiled, even as his face finally began to come clear, only to reveal that boy.
You were born with this. The flame was already inside of you.
...Inside...you. You carried Efreet in that arm of yours, like a mother would carry a child within her womb.
But you couldn't face that...couldn't accept that... because then all the sacrifices made would have been in vain.
Just like you can't accept me.
And what do we do with the parts of us we can't bear with?
The man on the ground turned his head, staring at someone familiar... his face bore a single scar, but his left arm stood out the most. Talons of black, and smelling of tempered metal, he stood there.
We take what's inside us and push it outside...because we can pretend it's safe then.
The scarred man moved swiftly across a broken floor, avoiding attack after attack, even as he reared his left arm back, talons widespread-- onyl to send a wave of flames forward.
You could have chosen to conceal the source of your power... You could have chosen any kind of place to be in...allowing that name and that face to be forgotten in history...to protect the secret of what was inside you.
The scarred man stood there, facing off against clean dressed figure. His skin as dark as the earth, and his strength as wide as the sea. Their wills were opposened, even as one gutted the other, only to have the scarred man stare in disbelief before he litterally erupted, taking the other with him.
But you chose otherwise.
The brightness of that flame made the darkness go away-- if but only briefly.
You did it... because it put the flame outside you. The flame was just a 'side-effect' of the arm...
An easy thing which you could just discard and pretend to be human as though the flame was never inside you.
Putting that arm on meant you could take it off. A flame you could douse out.
The man knelt on the ground, reached up and touched his face, fingers shaking.
But now the fire has put you out.
Goddamned idiot.
(2/4)
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 1:02 pm
You treated that arm and that flame as though it were a toy.
You never even bothered to consider the truth of what you had become, or what you could do.
On the opposite side of the man, a body was seen floating in a tank. Numerous tubes and wires were stuck to the body, even as it calmly slept... only to violently awaken.
The body changed, as the flames held within for so long forced themselves out and took over. A horrible mistake... as a even more horrible creature was given birth to.
The first time... we tried to tell you. But you never even bothered to hear us... without you we were lost.
A fire unchecked goes out of control after all... The second time...
Before the man lay three objects.
The sword.
The hand.
The greaves.
The flame. The blade. The armor. The understanding.
These were the simplest tools thrown out to you. Even a child would find it nothing short of exciting...
...but put away before anything more exciting... or disturbing was found...
Past fights, encounters-- and even foes yet to be crossed filled the cold void before the man. Blackened flames encroaching upon everything in the end.
The child never asked-- and the man never returned to the question--
Did I make the flame, or did the flame make...me?
Once again, memories of death haunted the kneeled man. Flesh burning, and the will to breathe gone in a flash.
Only at the end did the answer to that question become apparent...
You were...dead. The moment your body was punctured. The flame... was not. The flame refused... to snuff itself out.
And so the flame fed itself. It took what you denied it for so long...
The bodies surrounding the writhing creature of flames, even as it howled out into the void, all reason within it's mind gone.
..Until it was finally put to rest, the flames dying away to reveal that man.
And the flame was kept low...sleeping within the man... And as the man slept... within the flame...
The scarred man slumbered within what appeared to be a solid black pearl, even as darkness crept and shrouded itself around him, eliminating light completely.
Until that fire sparked again. Sparked from a single ember... a drop..
The vial of Efreet's blood, pure and undiluted from imprisonment rotated through the air, until finally shattering.
To be reborn....
But the question remains...
The boy stood up from the iced throne, jabbing a finger down to the man.
Reborn as what?
And why?
(3/4)
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 1:22 pm
What happens now...depends entirely on you.
You may be more fire than man... or more man than fire.Once again on the outside, all resemblance of the man Vahn had been were gone. Nothing but that flaming vestige could be seen, even as those eyes of his burned with vengeance. The cry still tearing itself out his throat was one of pure anguish, even as the heat spiked into unbelievable degrees. His entire form was changing, looking less and less human. Because what you hide inside...eventually breaks out for everyone to see.
And everyone will see the real you.
I'm sure you can feel it. The power. The ability to send thousands to their grave with nothing but a mere breath.
Will you give in and let the flame consume you entirely? Is it our time to take the stage now?!The boy's shout echoed across the icy void, even as the man cringed, lowering his head into his hands. Eventually, every flame consumes itself if not fed properly. You need me.
And this time, I can't be denied.
Accept me.
Accept who we are.
Accept who you are.
The man who dreamed within the flame...and the flame who dreamed within the man. The boy began his descent from the throne, moving towards the man. Bear this weight just a little longer... a slacker like you with a monster like me. Embrace everything that you were too afraid to, find what you couldn't see...The boy finally reached down, a hand touching against the man's cheek, burning the flesh at the touch, even as the boy's body burst into flames, a living and breathing entity of nothing but heat. Be the man you are... and always have been.
Accept me....
Vahn.Lifting his head at the touch, the man stared up into the face of something so awesome... so full of vitality. As if creation and destruction were birthed from this sight. An ever burning flame.... of desire... lust... strength..life. (4/4)
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 11:05 pm
::Walter could feel the heat, the power growing beyond measure. It wasnt everyday someone witnessed history being forged anew. The question today like every other was wether he would witness the train roaring by, or wether he would be run right over.
He was witness to an awesome power, a power even he had to wonder if he would stand a chance against. He couldnt really fathom what Vahn was thinking or feeling, he hadnt lived that life. He wasnt destined, he was fated, he wasnt an aire. But the thrill of the fear, the knowledge that he could be destroyed, or could witness a glorious rebirth...his feet were dug into the ground, and he had no intention of moving an inch. The heat was so intense, but in the glow of the heat, more and more of the letters were revealed, he had to stay, even if his gloves and hooded cloak had been ignited. In a few moments more he would be ignited, but the incantation must be completed.
The fire had grown to such intensity that the ground had quite literally begun to melt and bubble, the buildings had ignited in a glorious blaze of fire, mortor and wood lighting up like simple candle wicks. The magic circle tried so desperately to hold the powers at bay, but even it had its limits.
That thunder grew ever present, it seemed the individual rolls had grown more intense. More vicious.
It was the climax! The final stretch!::
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Posted: Sun Dec 03, 2006 11:27 pm
There seemed to be such a long stretch of silence, even as he stared up into the engimatic being's 'core'. He was made of the same black flames that so consumed and drove him onward-- but given substance, and reality.
Lowering his head, and without a word, he stretched out both arms, before pulling himself into that being.
The heat was unimaginable.
For the first time in.. a very long time, he was burning. A sensation which was amplified nearly tenfold when the being dove both it's hands into his sides, pushing past the body as if it wer enothing but paper.
"NNNNNGGHH!!" His arms spasmed out to the sides, and his body twitched as he cried out, shaking uncontrollably. THE PAIN!
Don't squirm idiot... all your feeling... all that pain...
The rage was receding, even as the pain of the flames began to slowly ebb away, like a steadily growing heartbeat.
...Is the pain of birth.
With a final cry, the heat expanded outwards in a rapidly expanding dome, causing an explosion to actually take place, sending earth, steam and smoke all over the place.
But as you go, given this last chance, remember one thing...
His body slackened finally, as the being itself began to merge with his own body, his skin dark and steaming as clothing began to manifest itself on his body once more.
The man died. The flame was reborn.
I... was reborn.
So the question is... are you you?
Or are you me?
Are you the man who slept in flames?
Or the flame which slept in the man?
Are you Vahn?
Or... are you Efreet?
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 2:10 am
::The flames ripped and roared. Lashing at Walters face, leaving a few sparse burns, before finally it began to calm. The sea of flame and heat, retracting and contracting as if it was all being sucked into one container. And that container was Vahn, all but the flames closest to him were snuffed out. And there stood a warrior...birthed and forged in flame. His body bathed in lashing flames, the final licks polishing off the armor which covered him from head to toe. The final form of the Armor of Efreet revealed. Crimson red armor, armor which seemed scalding to the touch. Tightly graspd in his right hand was his flamberge, only larger, thicker, more enriched. The blade glowed a hot red as if it had just been removed from the forge. The armor was always burning, even as he stood there, the burning chunks of masonry and wood which held the neighboring walls together fell around him. They just barely ruffled his long raven locks of hair. But what stood out above the rest was his eyes, those eyes commanded and demanded the respect of all who looked upon him. This form should have been the last sight that thousands of innocent victims would see. But things were different...Vahn was not a puppet to the power, he was its master, its controller. Its lord. The first Flame Lord of this Age. He would be able to feel the very embers which floated down from the flames he had wrought. And all lords should look as formal and royal as they felt, Vahn did. More than ever before Vahn was connected to the flames that surrounded him. He was one with his element, a level of mastery even Walter could never dream of reaching. But, it was taxing. This power was not in his blood, this power was part of Vahn's very being and so to initiate and sustain this form would require part of Vahn's inner core...his soul. While its power could be intoxicating, simply being in the form for extended periods could kill the man. Though by his mastery of the hand, Vahn knew how to pace himself. The taxation was nothing a little rest couldnt fix. A new peak was opened to him, a new level of ability, and now it was his choice how and when to use it. Walter, stood in awe of the figure before him, silent. Things looked right, but from his point of view Walter had to see who controlled the body before him.::
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 2:50 pm
A hiss of steam issued forth, as the figure took one towering step forward-- as if the mere act of movement were a tremendous strain.
"Unnngggh.... ********... get outta my head...!"
The anger was shortlived even as he tried to clear the excess steam and smoke away from his face, not realizing that his right hand still clung to the hilt of the Fang.
What happened next caused him to stare in disbelief, as a literal wave of power was let loose from the blade, shooting forward and carving into the landscape, as if a something's fang had actually bit into it.
A closer inspection would reveal that the cut was far from perfect--- it had just been incredibly condensed heat (like when Zeru cut Heie's teacup), but the power behind it made up for any loss of artistic value.
"--!" For the first time, he noticed what he was wearing, not feeling any kind of cubersome weight at all-- as though it were all just a second skin... or already part of him.
"I don't exactly remember buying this!"
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 3:08 pm
::From the words, the tone, the look on his face...this was Vahn. The condensed wave of heat cut right over a pile of torn and burned fabric where Walter was standing. He was gone. Someone like Walter just didnt die that easily, but he vanished like he always seemed to do. Just as the thunder peaked. It was so close now that it made it hard to even hear ones self think. Something was off about this rumbling, it was too cold, to precise, it wasnt chaotic and wild like thunder should be. As the pyre of black smog peeked over the base walls it became very clear that this wasnt thunder at all. It was a march. The march of two very large, very powerful feet. Feet attached to a what could only be described as a mechanical creature. It had both flesh, and metal fused together, one graphed disgustingly on to the next. Various blades, were attached directly tiny flesh arms, which were twined together to create two enormous arms at either side of the thing. The fleshy arms were so elongated that they dug trenches in the snow ground as they dragged behind it. The creature smelled of rust and rot. Chunks of burnt flesh, and thick green necrogen dripped from off its surface. It had no face, just a malformed torso, two powerful metal legs, and a lump of flesh with various senors peeking out of it which seemed to be its head. It stood at least 40 stories high, and it had a taste for magic...Vahns energy signature had led this monstrous thing straight too it. It marched directly up to gates of the Kynosuke fortress, and then stopped cold. The unspeakable stench waffing over to Vahn, the sound of thousands of pounds of metal settling into place. And then silence... The silence of death. This thing was born of death at its worst, and it meant to bring that worst to every man woman and child it met with even a hint of magical talent. It was the instrument of the Doctors revenge. And the war started with one burning Flame Lord. The silence was shredded to bits as the creatures arms flung forward at Vahn, instantly igniting in horrible green flames as they reached out. The disgusting sensor filled mound of flesh torn, as metal and rust filled mouth, spat galons of blood and necrogen all over the scenery and release a terrible roar. Blood caked talons, reached for Vahn ready to rend bone and flesh, and feast!:: 
It doesnt think. It doesnt feel.
It doesnt laugh or cry.
All it does from dusk till dawn,
Is make the soldiers die.
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 4:03 pm
"Old man---oh!"
For the first time, with equilibrium fully regained and his senses somewhat normal, he noticed the shaking ground. "What the hell--!" Yellowed eyes looked around, even as he tried to let go of the sword, finding it glued to his hand completely.
"OH FOR ******** SAKE!" He pressed his left hand onto his right arm, flailing about somewhat and trying his damndest to let go, when another rumbling shook the surrounding area.
The tower was in ruins, the ice structure melted from the inside out and the smoke filled sky filtered in overed-- only to be blotted out as something wicked approached.
He took several steps back, before waving his arm out to the side and causing another blast to be sent from the blade, the kickback sending him reeling backwards-- even as a section of the wall was blown outwards.
"Alright---goddamit, what the hell is going on now old ma---!" Fed up, he pushed forward, running out the hole he created and finally emerging from the ruined courtyard.
Only to apparently stare at something that decided it wasn't happy living in someone's nightmares and wanted to "be a real boy!".
"@#$%*!"
Unable to visually comprehend the s**t staring him down he slipped and cursed in his own dead, native tounge.
"I don't suppose your here to give me a ride on your back?"
And then it vomited all over him.
"!?" Yellowed eyes were wide and he felt the blood in his veins run cold. He would have to be bullshitting anyone if he said he was never scared.
He was always scared.
Of dying.
Of messing up.
Of not getting laid.
Even of getting this s**t all over him and stinking for months on end.
He'd rather take on one of the 'Old Ones' again, with their slimy tentacles and rapage, than this thing...
And so--- out of pure reactionary habit, Vahn's right arm would swing outward again, this time actually meaning to come up and provide a static shield for him against the creature's attack.
However, as shown, he wasn't used to this new 'body', and even though he could see himself making the movements-- the actual action itself would essentially lag-- as Vahn was thinking of what to do several moments before his body could catch up and do as it was told.
He was out of 'sync. What.. the hell? I'm sure I...
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 4:25 pm
:: Walter simply didnt have anything else to teach him, you dont teach a person how to fight, you teach them how to punch and kick the rest comes from within. He couldnt tell Vahn how to use his body, it had to be figured out, it had to come to him.
The bloody ick, and green tar which flung from the creatures gaping maw, vaporized into a sicky green steam just seconds after touching Vahn's armor.
And those arms came with lightning speed, as if launched from powerful pistons. Slamming clean through the main entrance on their way to the Flame Lord.
Its true, Vahn's body lagged a few moments behind. His mind shouted to move, but the damned thing wouldnt go! The arms grew closer and closer, the green flames engulfing its arms reaching out to rot all they touched. Exactly 2.5inches, and .02 seconds before the arm reached Vahn's face, the barrier arose. A wall of heat so intense it repelled both arms, as if they had dinged off of an impossibly thick sheet of steel. The very pressure of the arms only making the heat thicker. Both fleshy appendages were flung wildly back as if they didnt have a bone in them. In truth, they didnt.
Transversely, Vahn would find himself flung back, still covered in his barrier, he scorched a whole clean through the wall 30ft behind him and slammed into back wall of the ninja classroom he had just landed in.
The wall of heat dispersed as he impacted the front wall and would leave a spiderweb of shatter marks on the rear wall behind him. In front of him, was a set of broken desks and chairs, each charred into nothingness for the crime of standing in flight path. Molten mortar, falling the ground where he had scraped through it.
The real trick here...was that he didnt feel a thing.
It was like a dodgeball had just pinged off his chest.
With a sickly smog filled breath, the creatures chest expanded. And with a disgusting lurch forward it spewed out a geyser of some sort of venomous viscious yellow liquid. It was a single spurting torrent toward directly at the hole where Vahn was. The liquid melted through mortar like water melts through wet clay. The blast threatened to pour clean through the building and try and melt the armored devil.::
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Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 4:52 pm
W-What the hell--- WAS THAT?! His teeth were gritted even as he felt the rush of air (or maybe lack thereof), and he was hurtled backwards. He'd expected the worst of pains to be visiting him, but was comepletely caught off guard when he managed to deflect the creature's assult without having to lift a ********..." Covered in bits and peices, and blood coming from a light gash atop his head, he lay there, sprawled amid the nubbage. The weird thing was... the monster's strike hadn't done anything worse than the landing had done.
Which still hurt like a b***h on his a** and head (metal riding up the rear and all).
Getting ahold of himself, he could hear the brute well enough, and knew it was stupid to stay in one place for too long. Gotta keep moving... keep it second-guessing...
He grimly stood back up, lurching to his feet and letting both arms dangle in front of him, before he straightened up and whipped the sword single-handlely to the side, diagonaly, mustering as much willpower as he could.
MOVE!
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