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 Posted: Mon Sep 05, 2005 9:30 pm
Even if there was something behind the man''s back, Decruda cared not, as he made his move. And then right into his face did the sandal go, slapping against it audibly as he sprung through the air right into it. However, such a light thing that it was, it did not detr him from his attack, as his body was already in motion during the whole scene.
As his arms and torso made their attack, his face would be scrunched up against the sudden stinging sensation which slapped up against the sensitive nose of a body. However, this only lasted for a moment as his slash would continue through as he made his landing close to the position of where the man sent his sandal flying.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 5:14 am
Count Victor Ven Long As his attack glanced off of his foe's armor, it left him open to the shoulder strike, he grunted as he was forced back. However, rather then letting himself be knocked backwards, he quickly tried to grab ahold of his foe's armor with his right hand. Should his fingers touch the armor, a small rune would flare up on it as he quickly let go and danced backwards, holding his sword up defensively. The rune would slowly start to heat up the armor, naturally in time it would start to burn it's wearer. Unless it had some sort of magic resistance or what not. He eyed the ghouls out of the corner of his eye as he kept up his defense. ~If they seriously attack, I'll have to unleash level one to prevent being caught off guard by the man before me.~ He thought grimly to himself.
The knight would regain his footing and move into stance. He'd regrip the weapon as before, and hold it out straight to the right, framing the ghouls already running at Victor like a confused matador facing away from the bull. This ghoul would move a few feet ahead of the knight before he pursued behind it, tightening his grip on the blade and letting it fall a few degrees to ease the strain on his arms.
This ghoul would aim to strike at Ven Long's stomach with its left set of claws, running its hand across his lower torso before veering off to the right, putting itself about two metres away from Victor, at about eight o'clock. The kinght would follow this first blow immediately, swinging his sword across in an attempt to decapitate the foe.
Though none of that would happen before the ghoul behind him struck. The one with both arms intact would try and sneak up behind Victor, and put him in a half nelson, threading its arms underneath the Count's and gripping his shoulders tightly, effectively holding him in one place. The final ghoul, the armless one, would move in behind its comrade, keeping ready in case it was needed to assist.
But, considering the fatality of this movement, it probably wouldn't.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 7:14 am
He had prepared his sword to block the ghoul's strike, only to have his arms pinned behind him. He let go of the sword and it moved by itself to parry the ghoul's attack and then block the knights attack as well as Victor closed his eyes and muttered something in a dead language.
"Vien da Voiche dim Lamiur...
Bourche de La Mande....
RELEASE!"
His eyes flashed open as the air around him heated up to the point where flames actually formed around him, exploding outwards in a rapidly expanding fireball that would set the buildings nearby ablaze, even melting some of the ground. The knight was within range of the explosion, but would most likely just be knocked back by the extreme force.
When the fire cleared. Victor was standing upright and slightly slouched over. The bottom rune on his sword had vanished, and it was floating around him defensively. His head was hanging down slightly as flames licked up and down his body. He raised his head, his blue eyes glowing with a faint red light in his pupils. His fangs fully extended between his lips as he grinned semi-sadisctally. Even his physical frame seemed to have increased a small bit.
"Now then.....I think it's time I end this little altercation."
He said in a quiet, calm voice. A faint aura pulsating around his body as he slowly reached for his sword. Which was starting to glow red, as if heating itself up.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 10:49 am
Silver was already in motion as the sandal went flying, his idea having worked perfectly. It wasn't meant to stop his incoming attacker or even hurt him at all. The idea was to cover his face so he couldn't see, just for a split second, and it seemed to have worked.
In that moment, Silver had ducked low and started moving forward, leaning to avoid the incoming horizontal slash if it were angled. It would have been easy to miss if you couldn't see. If the other man had kept looking straight forward to where Silver had been after the sandal fell off, it might have seemed he had dissapeared completely, but he was just underneath his field of vision.
"MORATTAAA!"
As he ducked, his bokken exchanged hands from right to left, swinging out to his side, and he brought his right arm back and down, fist clentched tight. He moved forward to meet the man, so he came in under him before he had even hit the ground from his leap. As the reverse-eyed man's slash arced over Silver's head, relieving him of a few stray hairs, Silver's foot hit the ground, and his right fist came flying up at his opponent's torso.
"DYNAMITE!"
The impact of the punch was explosive. Literally. As Silver's fist sailed, his energy would swirl around it and heat it up. On the instant after contact, it would explode with firey force, a small but powerful white blast erupting between the two men at the point of impact.
A solid blow followed by an explosion. The Dynamite Break.
(For dramaric effect, imagine a shock wave of force spreading out from Silver's foot when it hit the ground kicking up dust in a spiral motion, as well as one from Decruda's back exploding outward on impact where his his clothes bulge from the force as if Silver's fist had gone straight through him. Stuff that doesnt really have any effect on what happened, it just looks cool.)
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 12:44 pm
You see, when one makes a strike, they tend to watch what they're doing and look at the area where they are making the attack, in case their target moves to avoid it or makes a block, only then can an action be made in response to the situation. And look a that, instead of disappearing from view, the man moved his entire body straight into view of the inverted eyed man as he peered over the quickly disappearing sandal.
Now, in the single moment where the two combatants would be frozen in place, one partially in the air as his scimitar would only just begin to swipe through the air over the other man, who in this case, was crouching to avoid the attack. Like a frame in a film, the projector began to turn once again.
Now start the frozen frame in slow motion and watch each motion play out. During the time when the crouching man began to rear his fist back after exchanging weapon hands, the darkly clad man would have spit a needle out of the tube in his mouth from such a close distance, having seen the movement as he watched the area around the path his blade would be moving in. Yet, at such a close proximity, it would prove difficult to dodge, especially considering that there would be a blade sailing through the air above him a split second later. And just for good measure, as the situation called for and the quickest move to come to his mind, he swung his left foot up into the air to meet the face of the man who positioned it in such a precarious position. Unlike a sandal flying through the air, his foot had the added force and weight of the rest of his body behind it.
Back in real time, it would appear that this motion would be played out as the man's fist began to piston forward just after it reared back, sword slashing through the air overhead.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 1:39 pm
No time to dodge the Needle now. Silver hadn't expected there to be another one in the tube, things were moving too fast too close, and he couldn't just abandon the attack now. The needle would strike true into his shoulder our arm or where ever it was aimed.
All he had to do was make sure he kept himself below the blade and he could still land an effective counter.
Even the now incoming foot did not deter him. He leaned a little to his own left, the foot connecting with his right cheek, but he turned his head in that direction at the same time to let the foot roll off and past rather than taking the full blow head on.
And he was still coming, moving his punching arm in so it slid along the inside of the otherman's kicking leg, the fist twisting through the air and flames spiraling around it. The fist was still coming. And even if much of his force had been weakened by the man's counter, it was still going to explode.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 1:54 pm
In a flash of white light, it seemed that the man was blown away by the blow, flying off through the air as it erupted in his face and sent him flying into the mist to his back. However, even as he did so, his left arm, previously hidden behind his back swung around and clawed at the outstretched apendage of his opponent. Only, his arm did not appear normal, but instead, it appeared as a skeletal claw, slashing like razors.
Even though the flames would not affect him, the sudden burst of energy would, as he was sent flying into the fog, not being a particularily heavty person himself and already being in the open air before, becoming lost in it as it swallowed him up and an audible splash was heard as a body hit the surface of water.
Now, the question was if he was gone, or if the man would even dare to find out.
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Posted: Tue Sep 06, 2005 2:23 pm
The horrifying skeletal claw slashed through the air, aiming for Silver's extended right arm. His eyes widened a little at the sight of it, no time to pull it arm back. He tried to swing it to the left and out of the way, but the sickly boney claws managed to catch the outside of his forearm and rake down his flesh, tearing through skin and the arm wraps alike. They weren't deep, but then again neither was the flesh on that part of the arm. His arm had been cut up pretty bad.
Silver sat there in the low position, breathing heavily as the reverse-eyed man sailed away through the mist. Moments later he could hear the satisfying sound of a splash, having managed to send the man sailing all the way back to the sea.
Slowly, Silver stood, his right cheek already swelling from the kick landed on it, his eye on that side winced shut. He glanced down at his arm, blood running from the open wounds and dripping onto the already damp ground. He grunted and shook visably, realizing just how much pain he was in.
He reached up to grab the bandana from his head. To his surprise, it practically just fell off when he touched it. On closer inspection, he found the knot in the back had been severed, cut cleanly though. His opponent's sword had come that close to him.
"Tch... that was a close one... but it took me forever to get this thing cut the way I wanted it... now Im gonna have to make another one when I get home! Mitsuyo's not gonna like me using even more of her fabric..."
Silver wasnt really speaking to anyone but himself as used what was left of his precious new fasion statement to wrap the wounds on his arm. He was about to turn around and start complaining at the guy fighting behind him about being so careless with his Flame when another pain in his arm made him wince, much higher than the cuts. He reached up to find out what it was, not being able to see his right shoulder that well with his swollen face, and plucked out the small needle that had struck him.
"That can't be good..."
He had all but forgotten about his opponent, assuming him for barbequed fish bait at this point. But the situation for the town wasn't gettting any better. Where the hell were the Shields? Or the Fire Department? To protect and serve indeed...
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Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2005 1:11 am
Slow-motion camera tricks against incredibly fast movement, screaming, sweat, blood, and explosions. This whole thing was like some big budget film- an entertaining one, mind you. It even had a soundtrack. And just when you thought the good guys were about to gain the upper hand...
She had been forgotton in all of this, and very justifyably so. She had been playing a completely supportive role, sitting on the back lines and allowing the others to stand in the spotlight. With nobody to actually fight, she remained here playing the drums that were deafened over the roar of explosions and high-impact skill calls. She seemed quite aloof, just doing her own thing. But when she saw a fireball all but incinerate the area before her, she frowned. Her feet had never stopped moving, and she started walking forward- not that anyone could see her with everything burning and the mist covering everything else. The choppers were taking dreadfully long to arrive- they may not even be headed their way, which would be a big bonus as it was less for her to worry about.
Her every step made the ground rumble- but it had already been doing that for a while, with Victor constantly igniting the air. Also, she'd been doing this for a good period of time, and ambient things fade into the background when you're in the middle of a heated battle. This is to say that it was quite unlikely that anyone could tell the difference from more buildings crumbling and and the rumble created by her moving feet.
She stopped humming and turned her head to the left, then the right. Keeping the rhythm in her feet, she stopped her progress after placing herself in what she judged to be the middle of the two people they were fighting. Another Song was started, and she slowed it down so it would match the tempo her feet were keeping- this would be for later, in case they didn't instantly die from what she was about to do and thought it wise to attack her. However, there was little chance of that happening.
As for her own attack, she coiled her legs and leapt a couple of feet into the air, but thrust herself downwards, ankles together, to meet the ground with force. As the cement beneath her buckled and cracked, two lines were very rapidly making their way to the fighters. The path wasn't seen, but precisely two seconds after she she stomped, the ground beneath both Victor and Silver buckled, centering itself on creating a 5x2 spike between their legs. These spikes would of course puncture and rip through the fighters from below, splitting them wide open.
Another thing happend when she landed- her scarf began to unsettle itself from around her shoulders. As for the five ghouls that she was commanding, they were surrounding her a bit loosely as to protect her while giving her plenty of space to do what she needed to. Though silent and loyal to her indirect methods, they shuffled in place as their hunger continued to rise.
Dance of Titans + Song of Shields started.
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Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2005 1:57 pm
Count Victor Ven Long He had prepared his sword to block the ghoul's strike, only to have his arms pinned behind him. He let go of the sword and it moved by itself to parry the ghoul's attack and then block the knights attack as well as Victor closed his eyes and muttered something in a dead language. " Vien da Voi---"
The second, mister one arm, would then follow up behind him while the knight and other deflected ghoul veered off to their points behind the Count, and drive its claws into the back of the man's neck. This would quickly rip a chunk of his spinal cord out of his neck, disconnecting it from the brain. Then again, this would all probably prove unnecessary, for a few moments later the gypsy's spike would rip through his body.
Then again, the ghouls didn't know about that, and one could never be too careful.
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Posted: Wed Sep 07, 2005 6:56 pm
As the ghoul brought it's leg back to knee him, he lurched forward, pulling the ghoul holding him off it's own leg and using his own super-human strength to fling him away, disloacting both arms in the middle of the throw, his arms sliding out of the ghoul's armlock. This would put him in a ducking position. Thus avoiding the swipe at his neck, assuming throwing the ghoul didn't cause the one swiping to be flung as well. Being that low to the ground, he noticed the ground was acting abit odd. Even as he snapped his arms back into place automatically. The spike came, he threw himself to the side, rolling several feet as the spike gouged into his side and cut him open. However, remarkably, being undead means physical pain does very little (i.e. nothing) to your concentration. The entire time his chanting never ceased once. This entire thing was done with that high-level of inhuman speed he had displayed earlier.
His blood was notably black and not very fluid, in fact, mere moments after it left his body, it would start to evaporate as if being boiled. Steam was rising from his wound as he placed a hand over it to cauterize the wound.
"RELEASE!"
He called out, just as the local area was engulfed in the previous firey explosion as he unlocked more of his vampiric power. Now looking notably vampiric now as he stood up straight, ignoring the large gash in his side which had ceased bleeding. He extended his hand, his sword appearing between his fingers.
"Looks like we have yet another addition."
He said quietly in that rough voice of his as his eyes glanced very briefly in the general direction of the dancing girl. His heightened senses now working properly in this level. Fire licking off of his body here and there.
"No matter." Red light traveled up his sword, causing it to glow brightly as the air around him shimmered drastically due to the intense heat he was now radiating. His non-sword hand was tucked partially into his pant pocket as he rested the now super-heated sword on his shoulder, which remarkably didn't seem affected by the heat at all. Though his clothing was smoking a small bit. A bit of blood had leaked out of his mouth from the stomach wound. And he licked it away, revealing his fangs once more.
"Listen kid, you fight pretty good, despite the fact you had help, you made me power up. Not many can do that."
He was talking in a relaxed, natural manner, as if fighting people with ghouls under thier control and throwing elemental attacks and such at him were a normal thing. The heat was still steadily rising, causing the ground around him to crack slightly.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2005 1:09 am
themightyjello "Spoken words in muttered tones, reading from the devil's tomes, gather now the darkness in, to bind those voices with their sin." The darkness around his hand lashed out like a whip when his hand moved, turning and sweeping in the air like an animated rope. It lashed out to wrap itself around the clergyman's neck and bind his voice, rendering him mute.
As the necromancer dispelled the shade, Fitzroy was at a loss for words. In more ways than one. Honestly he felt a little out of his league. He was a second-rate abjurer and holy magic wielder with very little in the way to harm other humans. Shifting his grip on the silver censer's chain so that it slid up his wrist a bit and hung from his arm, he plucked an object hanging from his belt immediately and flung it, hard, at the feet of his opponent. There, upon impact, it would burst with a deafening boom. Simultaneously, his other hand bearing the quarterstaff moved towards his chest and tapped lightly on a pendant around his neck which seemed to swirl red and black smoke in its depths. It began to glow.
While Fitz made his move, the ritual he had completed earlier continued to take effect, as the clear space where the fog was driven backwards around him widened. It wasn't much, and it didn't stop the fog from carrying, but it did keep a large radius around himself clear.
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Posted: Sat Sep 17, 2005 9:23 pm
Thats what you get for being c**k-sure... The young Tribal thought as another boot slammed into her stomach, the force of the blow causing her to cough as the wind was kicked out of her, the two men holding onto her arms having to dig their fingers into her skin to keep her on her limp feet. Her weapons and equipment discarded, dressed only in her skin-tight cat-burgler garb, Meryl could only tighten her muscles in tune with the punches to absorb the blows as best she could.
The spy game. It was all good and fun. Meryl got to dress up, act like a different person every day, sometimes for weeks at a time. She got to use all kinds of special toys, some of which amazed even her with their special blend of subtle sneakyness and leathality. And, of course, there was the license to kill, something even a hero like her father didn't have...
Bad things were, she was contracted by the governement. Meaning it wasn't all fun and games all the time. She couldn't go off and do whatever she wanted - much. She had to follow rules and guidelines. Leave limbs intact. Minimalise collateral damage. Protect the dumbass civlians. Dont tell anybody what you get up to. Blah blah blah. So many for Meryl. Sometimes it just got...tedious
Oh, not to forget the whole 'if you get caught, dont assume we'll save your dopey butt'. There was always that.
Job security her pert a**.
A fist snapped her head back, blowing the beret off her head and letting her blond curls spill out around her shoulders. Her teeth felt wobbly, stained crimson with blood. The two men beside her were digging their fingers into specific nerve points, rendering her arms limp and useless. Her legs were weak beneath her, barely able to keep her upright. These guys were pros. As soon as she had been spotted, she'd been attacked by waves and waves of guards, numbers eventually overwhelming her. Skill and strength only got you so far, and the fight had chipped away at her stamnia till she'd had little to nothing left.
She'd been in this situation before. Almost a year ago, now. Only these men were more diciplined then the animals who'd gotten to her now. They were more then happy to pound the crap out of her then get their kicks.
Almost noble, if you thought about it...
CRACK!
Hmph. That felt like a rib.
The hands let her go, allowing her to slump to her knees, feeling flooding back to her arms with a wash of pins and needles. Her elbows caught her from letting her face kiss the damp pavement of the alleyway outside the tall apartment block - she wouldn't be winning any beauty padgents for the next few days.
"The feds want the Organisation to be dead and buried, and they send in one girl? You gotta be <******** kidding me!" Bruiser No. 1 said, flicking his hand to let the blood splatter to the floor. "Normally we'd take you to the boss, but we're feeling generous, so we'll let you go for now. Besides, a man such like Mercy wouldn't wanna waste his time with small fish when he's going for the big catch."
Finally. Throughout the entire infiltration, the entire muck-up of being spotted, overwhelmed and having the snot beaten out of her, she'd finally found something that made it all worthwhile.
A name.
Then everything went dark as someone decided to put a boot to her face.
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2005 7:12 am
Darkness.
Harsh static.
Then...light.
Green eyes looked up at the cool blue sky, flanked by two alley-way walls etched with dirt and graffiti. The pupils dialated momentarily, focusing in for a nano-second as the rush of light assailed the corneas before expanding slowly, letting the vision of the girl come back to her slowly.
Breath...
Her full lips, caked slightly with blood and saliva, parted to allow a shuddering breath in, her breasts beginning to rise as her lungs expanded - before she halted the intake of oxygen sharply, her eyes dialating once more as something sharp stabbed her side.
Rib...
Her teeth grit themselves as she forced herself to slowly release the breath, her lungs collapsing and her chest falling as she was reduced to short, slow bursts.
Weakly she lifted a trembling hand to bite down on the edge of her glove, growling slightly as her beaten and tender muscles refused to cooperate. Something crunched within the glove - something metallic.
That done, she let the hand flop down, let the green eyes close, let her body relax.
It didn't take long. Soon the faint sounds of pedestrians and cars slowly gave way to the crunching of boots on gravel, warbled commands being barked over ear-pieces, soft grunts of surprise as they came across the sorry sight before them.
Strong yet gentle hands touched her cheek, followed by the pressing of two fingers to her throat, feeling the strong pulse before the fingers were withdrawn. "Something about you Tomorrows...always seem to think you're immortal."
"...Had a rep to uphold...sir." Meryl whispered, leaving her eyes closed as she sensed the number of people increasing around her, boots walking around her pointedly to scour the area for enemies.
"You're not your father, no matter how much you think you are. This is the price of recklessness."
"It...was worth it...sir."
"Oh really? Well, if i'm reading this thing correctly, perhaps you ought to tell me what a broken rib, a scratched lung, a fractured femur and a serious concussion is worth."
"I...got a...name."
Silence greeted her, which always made her smile. Surprise meant she did good. She twisted her lips gently into a small grin as she felt the man's hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, before someone smelling like medicine crouched beside her.
"...Good soldier." Was all she heard before something stang her neck.
Then she slept again.
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themightyjello rolled 1 10-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-10)
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Posted: Mon Sep 19, 2005 3:29 pm
The scarred man took an instinctive step back when Fitz tossed out the Thunderstone; the impact more alarming than anything else. He didn't know what this so-called holy man was capable of, but from his tricks so far it didn't seem like much. Nevertheless, it was better to be cautious and look a coward than to be caught unawares. The stone did little enough, though the effects were annoying and persistant; the loud sound was enough to leave a ringing in his ears that made hearing anything beyond it difficult. Having toyed with a few of the damnable rocks, himself, the scarred man knew that the ringing would only last a few minutes, yet a minute is long enough in the midst of combat.
"Is that it for you, then?" the necromancer shouted, finding difficulty controlling the exact volume of his voice due to the lack of perception of sound around him. "Reduced to throwing stones?"
His head turned to the side as his free hand came up to tip back the faceguard on the scull helmet that he wore; revealing the sadistic expression that he bore, but at the same time one of complete and utter calm...
"Then I'll thow something right back..."
The scarred man took a step back and brought the scythe across his body, holding it in both hands, at the ready. The necromancer stared up through the layer of unholy mist at the metal bird circling them in the sky; his sight within the area of influence not restricted like it was for those looking into it at him. He raised the weapon above his head, holding it high, and then brought it across in a flash.
"Cutter of lives, bare your fangs and tear the flesh from my enemies!"
He spun a full circle with the weapon in hand, and as he did the mist seemed to gather around the scythe and create a shadow that trailed behind it. When his strike completed, the shadow severed from the material form, and flew upwards through the mist; gathering it up around it as it spun like the eye of a twister, and arcing upwards with unerring accuracy towards the metal bird.
The twisting cone of mist raised upwards out of the fog across the ground, swallowing up the helicopter within it and seeming to pluck it from the sky; while in reality, the mist did nothing at all, but the shadow scythe within it shot straight to the rotars and struck them with such force that they lodged in place, snapping from the force of their own turning, and caused the helicopter to fall from the sky.
"If man were meant to fly, the gods would have given him wings..." the scarred man mused with a laugh; following the falling machine with his eyes as it crashed to earth.
(( For Sienna's reference: Spell - Spiritual Weapon
As for the dice... a Tunderstone deafens, which causes a 20% spell failure chance. So, in the interest of fairness, if I roll a 1 or a 2 I suppose I typed all this for nothing. ))
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