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 Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 7:24 pm
It was a slow Sunday afternoon in Middling. Writ was staring outside a storefront window with nothing but a table and a cup of coffee in front of him. He was busy watching the people go up and down the sidewalk. There was a certain detachment he felt as his eyes lazily followed the street's various dramas. It was like looking at an ant farm.
So many lives in front of them and he was bigger than all of them. Coyote said (reluctantly) that he was more than just mortal now. Writ wondered what would happen if he sucked up all of his god's power. He'd probably go ahead and take Coyote's place as god. The thought amused him.
He sipped his coffee and felt the day drag on around him.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 7:48 pm
The day had been anything but slow. In fact, had Ciro been paying attention, he’d have noticed that it was actually the next day over since his mission began.
He had set out from his home as soon as Vale had left. Then came the asking around, the roughing up, and then more waiting. Eventually, after the sun had climbed high into the sky, his unwilling spy returned, dragging his feet and trying to avoid eye contact.
He had spotted a man matching the description, as vague as it was. Ciro hadn’t actually seen Writ since he was a newbie… But damned if he wasn’t able to guess. Older, taller, most muscled, maybe even weirder looking than before.
The informant had spotted a man who looked to be Native American, and as strange as that alone was, he had ducked over to get a look at his face.
Golden eyes.
And while Ciro couldn’t be one-hundred percent sure that it was his man, it was the best that he had to go off of. Worst case scenario he’d scare some poor man out of his mind before killing him-- not really an issue to a man that had shed his conscious long ago.
And so, by midmorning, he had been out. Middling was a painful enough place to go-- but now, with his new traits? Ciro knew he’d be spotted and hunted down in an instant. But that seemed insignificant! He could get Writ. Something he had wanted to do since the start of this damned game.
With stolen leather and sunglasses in tow, he found himself wandering the streets. Naturally, the stares gravitated to him. The whispers tickled his ears, though he could barely pick any out. One of the few phrases he had picked out made him almost smile, though.
“Look’s like he’s trying to copy that freaky guitarist from the scene!”
The thought of Abbot seemed dulled now, he could hardly remember the man’s voice. Yet the legacy that he assumed his father had stood str-- ******** that him?
A hand reached to his glasses, pulling them down a few millimeters to get a better view.
If it was anyone else, he wouldn’t believe it. That had to be him.
And he was there… drinking coffee? That ******** b*****d! He had gone and killed Echo, and now acted like nothing had happened? He had the nerve to be so casual after something like that!? How. ********. Dare. He!?
That was too much. That was too ******** much. Watching that man sit there looking like today was all sunshine and rainbows when Ciro had been through such hell because of him!
It was on.
In an instant, glass was everywhere-- shards burst into the café from the outside, followed by an enraged Godling. To the untrained eye, it might look as if the man had fallen through the window from being on fire, the poor soul. How wrong they were-- Ciro was not the soul to be pitied.
As his cinder eyes glared down at his prey, his lip curled into a revolted snarl.
It. Was. On.
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 8:30 pm
Strike of the match, and Writ yet again lit his peace pipe up. He glanced out the window to see someone that stood out of the ant farm crowd of people.
Ciro.
The horns were a big giveaway.
He was in a cafe and Ciro was around. There was a feeling of deja vu. Two years since their first meeting, and now here they were, at that same cafe, on or about the same day, both grown men.
Looks like Fish got the message out, and it looked like his message was answered. He watched as the godling got closer. Ciro was about halfway across the street when Writ realized that the guy wasn't going to go through the door. Writ pushed himself back and whispered to the guy behind him,
"Might wanna move."
CRASH
The terrific sound of breaking glass provoked a scream from the cafe crowd. People close to the front shot up from their seats and backed away from the volleys of shattered glass. Writ just sat in place and dusted off a few shards off the table when things calmed down a little.
Writ took sip of smoke and a sip of coffee. Then he stood to face his rival coffee still in his hand..
"Door. Over there." Writ pointed to the door with his free hand, "We're not animals you know."
He smiled at his joke, "So Fish gave you my message? Good thing you grew before running in here, I'd feel bad about beating up a blind person."
The crowd- both street side and cafe side, began to gather to see what was going on. It was quite the spectacle, a horned man bursting through a cafe window and confronting an equally strange looking Native American drinking coffee and smoking god-knows-what. It looked like street theater, but street theater usually didn't have people bursting through windows or into flames.
Coyote's ears perked up. Something told him he was going to lose a lot of power very fast.
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Taichou rolled 1 6-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 8:45 pm
God DAMNIT he knew why he hated this b*****d. He knew it now from the bottom of his gut that Writ had done it.
“Got the message….” His teeth ground together in agitation as he felt his blood begin to boil. “Got the GOD DAMNED MESSAGE!? YOU DIRTY SON OF A b***h!!”
It was out. The lid had burst out, and there was no containing Ciro now. He wouldn’t stop until one of them were dead.
His fist reached out, gripping tightly onto the man’s shirt collar, an icy glare erupting from his flaming eyes.
“Damn right I got the message, you b*****d.” His voice was a low hiss, attention only on Writ. In this world, there was only him and Writ, and that was far too many people-- clearly Ciro had to lower that number to one. Him. “Couldn’t have just written a letter, could you? No. You had to use blood.”
He was shaking with rage, unable to express his feelings in words. No, not even actions would be enough to show the deep loathing and hatred that the man experienced.
And how painfully his blood boiled-- as if it wanted to shoot out at Writ of it’s own accord, every inch of him wanting this b*****d dead.
It seemed almost without provocation, as the flames burst from the arm that held Writ. In reality, he was simply unable to hold them back any longer.
Damage Dealt: -5 to Writ
Ciro’s Health: 25 HP
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Oliveman rolled 1 6-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 8:58 pm
"The hell are you talking about? It's not like I stabbed the kid or anything." Writ was beginning to see that this was going to be more than just a fight. The next hint would come in a flaming arm. The fire almost immediately burned a hole through his poncho. Writ yelled out in pain as the flames began to burn at his skin. It was like someone putting a blowtorch to his chest. He grit his teeth and said to Ciro,
"Only blood I've spilled was monster blood, but I don't think this will be any different." He said, clutching his coffee cup and throwing the hot liquid into Ciro's eyes.
"Hope you like being blind again, you b*****d!" Writ yelled hoarsely, "This was my good poncho!" Writ got down on all fours and broke out into the paws and claws. A large Coyote-Writ pounced on Ciro, tackling him through the broken window and into the streets.
The crowd kept their distance, but was still watching. It would be their first taste of the game that had been kept a secret for two years.
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Taichou rolled 1 6-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 9:23 pm
Monster blood…? MONSTER BLOOD? That was even worse! How dare he say something like that!? Echo was the furthest thing from a monster! She was like some kind of shining saint to accept him for what he was!
But before he had anymore time to think-- there was something there! He couldn’t see, and this worried him more than anything else-- he was open for attack--
But the coffee simply sizzled, evaporating on contact with the searing pupils-- maybe it was a defense mechanism to keep Ciro from grabbing at them again-- though it was unusually satisfying to see Writ’s attempt at an attack fail.
But the teeth? The claws?! There was no immunity to those! Ciro coughed out as his back slammed into the window, a shard of glass tearing as his back as the monster’s claws bit at his shoulders.
This was the thing that had killed Echo. There was no doubt about it. The body? The attack? All identical to what Ciro was experiencing. How many times would he have to relive it?!
His hands gripped at the creature, nails digging into it’s fur as the flames continued. “CHANGING…. DOESN’T… MATTER!”
His foot kicked out, lashing into the creature’s stomach as he tore to get the creature off of him.
Damage Dealt: -6 to Writ
Ciro’s Health: 19 HP
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Oliveman rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 9:36 pm
Writ changed back. The smell of burning fur remained. There were a couple of hand-shaped burns on his wrist.
The foot to the stomach was a lot more powerful than he thought. Yes. This was definitely more than just a fight. Ciro was fighting a lot more violently than Writ was expecting. Something was up.
"Geez..." Writ groaned a bit, still in his fetal position, "Guess this is what mom meant when she said 'don't play with matches' "
He let out a weak chuckle and looked around. More and more people were coming to watch. After seeing what the two were capable of, no one dared try to stop them.
Writ smiled. If he was going down, he was going to go down as the center of attention.
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Taichou rolled 1 6-sided dice:
4
Total: 4 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 10:01 pm
He was vaguely aware that there were people there-- not that his mind registered what that meant. The aftermath of the fight, the consequences for fighting in public-- none of that mattered. There was only here and now. Nothing else even existed.
His eyes were plastered on his opponent as he pulled himself to a crouching position. His prey was there, on the ground, just waiting to be killed. He knew he could do it now-- he could tell the difference in the fighting styles. Tricksters were not warriors-- not like the god who chopped up sinners with a serrated blade.
And so he stood, slowly stalking towards the man as if he were a lion ready to strike. Once he had gotten close enough, his leg raised up once more, slamming his foot down hard on Writ’s shoulder.
It was as if he were a large cat, playing with his prey before biting its head off.
After all, he had been waiting two years for this opportunity-- two years of pain, hatred, and loathing, all because of this man. As if quickly killing him would ease his anger! No! He had to make him suffer! He had to make him regret every breath he had ever taken.
Damage Dealt: -4 to Writ
Ciro‘s Health: 19 HP
Writ‘s Health: 5 HP
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Oliveman rolled 1 6-sided dice:
2
Total: 2 (1-6)
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Posted: Mon Mar 09, 2009 10:53 pm
Why... Does everyone and their mother have to aim for his shoulder? It's already been minotaur-kicked, bitten and "Healed" by Persy- making it probably the most injured shoulders in existence.
Writ moaned, still unable to get up. Perhaps he should have thought things through before challenging Ciro. Ah well, if this is how this fight was going to go, he might as well make something out of it. Provoke Ciro into more of a rage, maybe he'll make a mistake. He managed to gasp out a laugh.
"Two years and now we're fighting, we sure took our time." Writ panted, "Hey, remember, like, a year ago? After that fight with that bull-thing..." Writ looked down, as if trying to remember, Crow was still your girlfriend I think." He smiled, "And we sucked face right in front of your blind a**. That was fun."
Okay, he was exaggerating, but hey- provoking people into a murderous rage was fun!
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Taichou rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-6)
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Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 11:53 am
Could he trust him--? What was the point?! It was obviously a plot to piss Ciro off more. How Writ expected him to be any more pissed than from killing Echo, Ciro had no idea. But somehow-- somehow it worked. The idea of Crow betraying him-- That early!? They were still together then--
“Again… and again… You just have to take everything from me-- Don’t you?!”
His blood was boiling even harder, and his breathing had become short and choppy. The heat from his blood was doing a number on his muscles-- while not obviously apparently from the outside, the damage was being done. He could tell his movements were slowing-- even by a fraction-- and the pain from moving was beginning to get worse. He needed to calm down. He needed to focus on what was in front of him-- Crow was gone. Echo was gone. There was only Writ. And soon, he would be gone too.
Ciro‘s Health 14 HP
Damage Dealt: -5 to Ciro
Writ‘s Health: 5 HP
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Oliveman rolled 1 6-sided dice:
6
Total: 6 (1-6)
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Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 1:16 pm
Writ was no warrior, he was a trickster. And a trickster didn't need strength or power to be able to hold his own in a fight. He knew what buttons to push, and he knew what would make Ciro angry, and what would make him make mistakes. Right now he seemed pretty distracted with himself.
"Sucks, I know, but I think you should-" Writ didn't finish, he shifted his shape into a Coyote and sunk his teeth into Ciro's ankle. He pulled back and got his rival to the ground. He shook the limb wildly, as if trying to pull it off.
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Taichou rolled 1 6-sided dice:
5
Total: 5 (1-6)
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Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 1:33 pm
Blood spurted from the bite wound-- first slowly, but with an increasing speed as the adrenaline began to course through his body once more. He then slammed to the ground, taken off balance by the attack,
“GOD… DAMNIT…!”
He wasn’t going to lose! He wasn’t going to be brought down by a mutt like this! Not today, and not ever!
He pulled his torso up, trying to balance despite the shaking of his leg, and slammed his palm down sharply on the coyote’s skull. His fingers, stiff with the tenseness of the moment, closed in on its head-- a tight grip. He wasn’t about to let go any time soon. And the flames? They had begun to lick more furiously around his hands, the centermost blue starting to consume more and more of his fire. A bright white flame was beginning to erupt from the center.
He had gotten stronger, but not in the way that Vale had assumed.
Ciro’s Health: 8 HP
Damage Dealt: -5 to Writ
Writ’s Health: 0 HP
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