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| Dead Inside; - Neri, Ani, Tekun - | |
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| Topic Started: Jan 19 2014, 08:07 PM (539 Views) | |
| Shrista | Jan 19 2014, 08:07 PM Post #1 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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The dull throbbing echoes of her pain washed over him like the surf rolling up the beach in Larquorei. The very shadow of it hung over him, sharpening his features and setting him on edge. Hours it had been going on. Hours. He had half a mind to thrash the door to splinters and tear it out of her himself, this blighted thing that halted her sorcery and slowed their path to ascension. And it wasn't even his. Kaahn sucked his lower lip thoughtfully while he leaned against the rough wooden wall, watching the door opposite, though not really seeing. Soon, soon this petty trial would be over, her will would finally bow and snap under the pressure and they'd soar together towards the shared, nay stolen destiny. For what else could it be? The one thing she wanted so very much that had fallen from sight when he came into the picture, would be renewed, dusted off, and then he'd take it from her. He'd take it all. The very thought set his heart to racing with excitement. A strained cry filtered through the door behind him, over which he stood watch, and he sneered ever so slightly. That she wanted to keep it was no question. He'd kill the child before he let it come between them, and their quest for power. Power for him, acceptance for her. It had come to his attention that it wasn't the power she wanted..at first it had been, but again it had been cast away. She'd gone from wanting to accrue so much that she could flatten them all like the insects they were and challenge the Powers that deemed themselves worthy enough to rule her civilization...but no longer. She now only wished to use it to prove herself stronger than any had previously thought. Stupid really, when life was so fleeting. What would she do but force herself into their place, replacing the old with the new? And then forcing an invasion... The last she had no interest in either. He didn't think she'd really thought it through. No matter, she would eventually. The vessel that had been built to contain him would soon enough become his weapon of choice. Just as soon as she expelled that blighted hybrid child from her body... It was boring enough being made to stand guard over a single door all day, and he had found several equally boring things to do to try and take his mind from the pain of her convulsing muscles in the next room. Kaahn had taken the time to claw several lewd pictograms into the walls around the room, which only went well with the setting. It was after all, a brothel. The women kept here were no strangers to lust, nor the results of such, though Shrista had denied entry to any of them. He wasn't worried..if there were complications and she died, he'd still get his part of the bargain. He'd still win. Now he stood picking the splintery fragments out from beneath his claws and flicking them across the room. He'd tried baiting Neriasis earlier on a passing visit, but the man had risen little to his snide jibes, only staying long enough to see what the commotion was about. So he was alone and unutterably bored when the sound of shouting and distant clashing steel made him whip around, his ears straining to catch another hint. The smile that spread across his face might have been like the sun peering from behind dark clouds, but it was only more to highlight the looming threat of the impending storm. He knew what it meant. And by the worried pang through their bond, his drow companion knew he was up to something. Why else would he be happy? The daemon open the door and smiled around at her, then faltered when he met her eyes, glazed with pain, not bothering to avert his eyes from the tangled and bloodied sheets. "Get out!" "Something's happening. Something good, I think. I'm going to fuck him up good, just so you know." "He won't come. He's not that stupi-"...nnnghh..." She broke off panting as another contraction seized her in it's grip, and he waited patiently enough, which was not at all. "Don't die on me, please." He drawled, the sarcasm positively dripping from his tone. "Hurry up and rid yourself of that whelp, lest I do it for you. I'm going to find your pansy friend." "No! Just..stay on the door..." "Gods be good, rest assured nobody wants to come see you, especially not now you're...eugh...spawning." He left her there, slamming the door gleefully while she howled curses down upon his head, grabbed a passing woman and span her around with a whooping cackle, then shoved her towards the opposite door. "Go and find out what's going on, go, go, gooooo! Faster you slovenly wench or I'll teach you the meaning of what it is to name yourself whore!" He settled back, arms folded, and counted to six, then laughed and began singing; "Fiddle dee deee, fiddle dee dum, Neri wants my cock in his bum!" Shrista fell back against the hard pillow she'd been supplied with, and squeezed her eyes shut, winding her fists into the sheet. It didn't matter how tightly she did it, it didn't help with the pain, and neither did all her training. It hadn't the first time either, but even then it hadn't been as hard as this. She was bleeding too much she knew, but without her magic there was nothing she could do about it. Yet she dare not let one of those pale skinned flesh slaves in to tend to her needs. It was bad enough her cries had reached them, worse even than the fact that she was here in the first place among them. And then there was Kaahn...he'd offered to help, gods forbid. She didn't doubt for a second he knew what to do, but not from any kind of good way to accrue such knowledge. She shuddered, gritting her teeth against another wave of agony that left her weak with trembling limbs ans gasping for air like a fish out of water. Stupid that she kept it hidden for so long, that she'd not told him, but with her situation worsening every day, and knowing that the time grew shorter between them, why make it so much worse? She would have left, taken her child away and raised it as she saw fit, regardless of the gender. They deserved to grow up freely in the sunlight, as she had never done. They deserved to grow up with the power to make their own decisions and cast off the judgements of others. They deserved better than her. But she was all they had, and she would love and raise this one as she had never had the chance to before. The next racking pains shook her from her hips to the very core of her being, dragging forth a shriek from her, despite her resistance, and a shred of fear. She wasn't going to die. Couldn't, not here, not in some stinking brothel, a prisoner, a weakling. She had to live, if not for herself, at least for the child she was now trying to push from herself so desperately. There was no room to think of any of them, not now. Now, there was only pain. |
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| Neriasis | Jan 25 2014, 11:01 AM Post #2 |
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Ex-God of Order
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There was far too much to do to be worried about the single solitary prisoner he had in his care. Of course that didnt mean that her care was being neglected. However, he still paid his little firefly a visit each day to make sure she was getting cared for by the individuals he had set to the task. Usually when he visited he brought some sort of offering a good will, a fresh fruit, a bit of meat, or even cheese; he steered away from anything alcoholic or dangerous to the health of her soon to be bundle of joy. At least he assumed thats what women called babies, he on the other hand was not partial to the critters, centuries of life and hed never once entertained the idea of a child. Not that he didnt appreciate Erugal, but the boy wasnt even technically his; he was the spawn of his good half and that no good weirdo cat vampire Beta. Despite all that he still like Beta and considered him a friend, a friend who stayed far away and to be honest Neriasis had no idea where the vampire was now. This visit was proving interesting already, as he walked into the brothel to the sound of Shrista screaming even from all the way down in the tunnels. Already one of the whores came up to him all in a huff and started going off about how rude his little pet project was, and then telling him about all the noise she was making, and finally about the bleeding and the joyous giving of birth that was occurring while she was busy nagging him about when he would be getting rid of that bitch of a drow in the basement. It wasnt a basement, but it was the best way to describe where Shrista was being kept. For the most part the male ignored the complaints though his attention was grabbed at the bleeding part and about the whole birthing process. He had really hoped Aniketos would have shown up before then, so he wouldnt have to deal with baby stuff. Gross gross bloody baby stuff. A tingling sensation niggled at the back of his neck and he gave a curse. Today was just shaping up to be a grand one. First Shrista with her lady problems, now intruders; he really hoped that those intruders included Aniketos and he could take his bitch and bastard child home with him, Neri just assumed the child was the humans but for all he knew it belonged to that annoying demon that accompanied Shrista. Moving to the back room over the brothel the Drow concentrated on the location of the room below and popped in with a swirl of black and purple mist, one had to love short teleportation spells. The first thing that assaulted his senses was the smell of blood and he wrinkled his nose looking over to where Shrista was squirming and screaming amidst blood riddled sheets. This, this right here, Neriasis said gesturing over the Drow woman and the bloody sheets, is truly unacceptable. Could your body not have picked a more inappropriate time for this? Id offer my help but from the looks of it and the annoyance of one of my girls, you dont want it. Just no dying, not now, not while your white night approaches so gallantly. It would make such a sordid end to this fairy tale. |
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| Tekun | Feb 25 2014, 03:23 PM Post #3 |
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Immortal Soldier
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They entered the brothel together. Tekun hadnt had sufficient time to recover and he was growing more and more tense as this carried on. He wore his cloak to try to at the very least conceal his identity and he did though but he seemed to give the wrong impression. A new hired body guard? This one was bigger than the last and perhaps more sinister in appearance. He still was pale and though his sweating had slowed he was still covered. His gaze fell upon the room. Where to start? He rasped out as he spared Aniketos a look. He managed to move to the center of the as he stumbled and drew quite a bit of attention. They were recognized immediately by the few bouncers that were within and two approached the two of them. They were big, well-built men and it was clear to them that these two unsavory individuals were here to cause trouble. Her blood, he felt it. He could almost taste it. She WAS here. The Immortal Soldiers eyes went wide with fury. It was something he hadnt known since he resolved everything and for the first time he felt in control of it all and he wanted to let go. He wanted to throw everything to the wind and tear this entire place down because there was quite a bit of blood back there. She was dying and these men were responsible for it. You need to lea- Neris guard put a hand on Tekuns shoulder and began to force him. There was absolutely no hesitation in his actions. Tekun cried out as if he were in true agony and had begun to despair. He drove a fist, hard into the mans abdominal and winded him on contact. He doubled over, bending forward. Tekun brought his other arm to the mans head and locked it in his grasp. The former berserker yanked and a loud and sickening snap of bone crunching and breaking sounded as he effortlessly killed the man. He released his grasp and let the body hit the ground with an ungracious thud. In an instance the lifeblood of another was torn from their face, blinding the man in unexpected pain as the blood flowed through the air and coiled around Tekuns arm. Those that frequented in the Brothel panicked and some screamed as they funneled out. He wasted no time in drawing his sword. Shes in the back! Theyre killing her! The Immortal Soldier screeched. The time for talking was far over. He'd kill everyone in this Brothel if he had to. |
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| Aniketos | Feb 26 2014, 05:24 PM Post #4 |
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Unter friedlichen Umstnden fllt der kriegerische Mensch ber sich selber her.
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It had not taken them long to decide where to go and to get ready to go there. Aniketos knew already of where Neriasis' headquarters were, so all he had needed to do was get dressed in his enchanted suit of black padding and take Tekun to his office, where a circle had been painted on the floor. They stood together in the black circle, though with considerable difficulty given how large the infamous Immortal Soldier was, and Aniketos closed his eyes, concentrated, and after a breathless moment, they were in a different office on the other side of Soto. What a useful thing magic was. He only hoped it would get them through what followed. Tekun was sick, after all, so he couldn't just wreck everything in sight and leave Aniketos to go get Shrista. These thoughts made a hot tension rise in his chest. It radiated out into his limbs. Breathing out slowly, he took a moment to glance around at this office, which was clean and orderly and obviously unoccupied. He'd hardly been here in the past year, as he'd been too busy drowning in a swill of booze of misery. And now, whatever happened, at least he was doing something about it, though the gods only knew how it could end up. Aniketos sucked in a sharp breath. "Right," he said, and he brusquely opened the door and led Tekun out into the abandoned corridors of the Guildhall. Out the front doors (surprising the guards there, not that they could do anything once they recognised Aniketos) and down the hilltop of Madrid and out into the city. He spoke not a word, being too wrapped up in his own thoughts and worries to say anything to Tekun. Dark fantasies of what Neriasis could have done to Shrista played out in his head, vivid and violent images gambolling about like monsters inside his head. They accompanied him all the way to the brothel that he knew Neriasis was involved with. At the sight of it, the images dissipated and he was left with a hard knot in his throat, throbbing with his heartbeat. He had never cowered at the prospect of a fight before, though it wasn't really the fight that frightened him. He just had a feeling that despite all his best efforts, something about this situation would inevitably go wrong. Tekun and Aniketos entered the brothel. The people in this antechamber to the salon were mostly guards, and they noticed Tekun before the noticed Aniketos, mostly because Aniketos' outfit was enchanted to make him largely unnoticeable. Before Aniketos could even answer Tekun's question as to what to do, two men were gravitating towards him. It was as if they sensed Tekun's rage even as it budded and blossomed. Aniketos opened his mouth, wanting to warn somebody about what was going to happen, to tell the bouncers that they should leave this be, that their gravitation towards Tekun's threat was monstrously inappropriate, but then he felt something. It came to him from across the distance, radiating from a point somewhere underground and towards the back of the building. Her familiar mind had called to him and without even thinking, his thoughts had turned to listen to hers. The message called from below was one of simple pain and desperation, keening so miserably that he could almost feel it in himself. At that the blossom of his rage burst open. Tekun screamed and attacked. Aniketos could feel vicious intent flaring up in the minds of the other three guards. They were like flames in the dark, they provided the limits of his vision in the world. He took no notice of the other people in the area as they flocked about in terror, escaping through the front door or through the windows at the back of the salon. His sword was in his hand before he was aware that he had drawn it. Magic pulsed into the air, sending a flock of ethereal, multicoloured arrows at the three men rushing to attack them. A red arrow hit one man in the chest, causing him to fold over as he screamed in disproportionate agony. A blue arrow hit the second man in the shoulder and he fell over, his body locked up with paralysis. Finally, a shadowy black arrow left one man fumbling around in his blindness. He stumbled straight at them, and Aniketos darted up to him and ran him through with his sword. Ignoring the other two, he drew his sword away from the man's convulsing body and ran down the hall, calling to Tekun to follow. He hoped that the Immortal Soldier would realise that killing people was not going to be helpful right now, not when Shrista was in pain. With the thought of their opponents momentarily gone, Aniketos noticed the radiation of her agony once again. Something was clearer about it the second time around. She wasn't afraid of anyone else, only of herself. She was at the mercy of her own body and it was worse than torture. "No, they're not killing her!" Aniketos called over his shoulder, "I think she's in labour!" He skidded around a corner and crashed into a woman, who screamed in fear at his sword, and turned tail and ran away. Aniketos stumbled back, blinking at what had happened, and then realised something. There was another flame of vicious intent nearby, burning brighter than any before. He'd known this mind as well: it had been inside of him once, eating its way through his dreams. His stomach lurched. In all his anger at Neriasis, he had almost forgotten who was really at fault for all of this: Kaahn. The momentary fear and distress built itself back up into righteous anger. Aniketos wasn't alone now, he was fighting with someone else who hated Kaahn just as much as he did. Together, they'd be able to beat his bones to splinters and bury him deep, never to be found again. Aniketos began running again, sword at the ready. "Kaahn's up ahead!" he called to Tekun. There was no point in trying to be stealthy right now. The demon was waiting for them. |
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| Shrista | Mar 16 2014, 01:54 PM Post #5 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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He muscles tightened, heaving and trying to force the child from her flesh to no avail, her teeth gritted so hard it was a wonder that her jaw did not crack. Was this a result of the disfavor of her deity? The deity that she had so abandoned and refused in light of her own survival? If there was one thing that her people were good at, it was surviving, and gradually the hold it had had on her had slipped away, until she shed it herself. Why bother to walk under a shroud of misfortune, forever performing futile acts to try to win back that elusive favor when you refused to return to the rule under her thumb? She didn't want to believe now that the birthing was going so terribly wrong because of such a thing, but the thought had crept into her mind and made itself known. And known now, it was not simply going to go away. The first time had been much easier than this. No, it did not seem to matter that she tried her hardest, it was as though it knew that she was giving up. If she gave up, they would both die, and perhaps then that would be a mercy to it, as such that she'd never been granted. After all, what did she have to live for anymore? A scattered dream of power to throw back into the face of her twisted deity, whose face no longer turned towards her? A romance that she'd carelessly thrown back in his face, because she was afraid? Always afraid...perhaps she should let it go. At least then it would not fall to the risk of the daemon taking that much from her as well. It would just be one more of her family, if they could be called that, that had fallen to her hand alone. Failed priestess, failed drow, and now failing at even being female, she felt herself slipping as she rested back, staring at the darkened ceiling and watching the play of heat in the stones. Whether the thoughts were her own or his now was difficult to discern, sometimes they meshed so strongly together it was difficult to tell that they were still separate beings. Was that what he wanted, for her to just give up and die here? Did she want to die underground as she was born, in darkness and pain, screaming for air while the creeping cold slunk up on her? The appearance of Neriasis only deepened her misery and self loathing, tensing as another wave of pain crested over her, leaving her shuddering and unable to speak. Had she cried out that time? Or was it just too much to even do that, stealing the very air from her and leaving her prone and vulnerable. She hated him, this imitation of one of her own, this impostor, this thief of faces. What was he, even? He'd admitted he was not drow, yet he bore the appearance of one of her own, disgustingly so. And yet not a surface born elf either. The depth of her hatred for her lighter cousins could not be dredged right now, and she smothered it, focusing only on the quivering of her own body, reaching, reaching for the magic that so eluded her. If she could just stop herself bleeding, ease the tension... Maybe it wasn't so much him but all he stood for that she hated so much. She hated herself, and her own. And she hated him for so casually brushing it all aside and adopting the farce. She hated him for bringing her here, though if she'd been in his position she'd have done no less, only worse. And maybe that was the problem. If she'd been raised somewhere else, would it have made that much of a difference, or would she have inherently become the way she was now? The word 'evil' loomed at her and she pushed it roughly aside. Would the child be born like that too? She wasn't sure she wanted it...if teaching it to survive would mean that she taught it the same ruthless cruelty that she'd grown up with, then it probably wasn't worth it. "Oh please, don't let me inconvenience you with my death. After all, it's not like you're going to be dumping my cold lifeless corpse yourself is it?" She spat, before realizing that in her pain and growing emotional state she'd slipped back into her own native tongue of hissing, clicking and lilting sounds. And of course as much as she disliked him, she could do nothing about making him leave. She could barely raise herself, much less get off the bed and waddle over to him, and then what? She couldn't reach her magic and what could she do, slap at him uselessly until he laughed in her face? Her hatred sharpened as she felt the daemon push off from the wall outside, felt his elation at her fury and her misery, her loathing. He'd hit Neriasis for her if she told him to. She almost did, before she felt his interest change suddenly, moving elsewhere, above, and the memory of his words gripped her again. Kaahn pushed away from the wall, his head tilted, the song dying on his lips. Something was coming, though he saw nothing yet at the end of the hall, only the shadows flitting from the top of the stairs. The woman he'd sent on her way shrieked somewhere above, and he clapped his palms together delightedly, stalking out a few paces before the door along the hall, his eyes burning bright in the gloom. After a moment the air shimmered about his form, the walls warping and leaning in, weeping fat tears of mortar and smoking molten stone. Up he went, his bare feet leaving a trail of prints as if he'd just walked in wet sand, and crouched on the ceiling, crawling along its length until he was in the center of the corridor. A roach wriggled free of its home in a crack between two stones and scuttled away, only to contort and become a butterfly, then a hornet, buzzing confusedly in its agitation, and darting about the face of the first intruder. His lips curled in a vicious smile, and he dropped, fully prepared to smash the first victim to a fine pulp. |
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| Tekun | Mar 26 2014, 04:12 PM Post #6 |
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Immortal Soldier
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Labour? Labour?! They may not have been killing her but now it seemed so much worse. She was alone in the situation. Likely tied down and left to her own devices with no one to support or tend to her. It did nothing to ease his mind; he could still feel it and it still felt like death could creep in as the possibility of bleed out remained? And what of the child? What If someone had the stones to strike her when she was otherwise incapable of defending herself? The adrenaline and anger was still throbbing through his person and showed no signs of stopping, if anything it intensified as his mind jumped from thought to thought. As they moved forth, Tekun was reminded about a certain individual who was tied to Shrista and he waited just up ahead. His mind snapped to attention on this next task. There was no doubt in his mind this demon would serve to be a roadblock and that a violent encounter would be the only way it would end. Anger turned to hate in an instance. He was with her this whole time. He let this happen. This was his fault. Im going to RIP HIM IN THREE! He venomously growled to Aniketos. He felt his pulse on the air too. Yes, it was definitely the same one who used him as a doormat. They rose up the stairs things began to shift contorting and changing. He felt him on the ceiling and doubted it for a moment before remembering just what he was. An insect, something he barely noticed darted before his face before it crumpled to the ground dead before him. His eyes glowed a blue with an arcane energy as his gaze fell upon the being on the ceiling. He did not see him but could feel him. He advanced and his foe dropped, there were no words. He lunged! Hes on the ground! From the ceiling! |
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| Aniketos | Apr 15 2014, 01:07 PM Post #7 |
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Unter friedlichen Umstnden fllt der kriegerische Mensch ber sich selber her.
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Kaahn's proximity announced itself with the stench of hot stone. Up ahead, the hall deformed itself, slouching inwards as if it were exhausted. They weren't even in the range of the spell yet, but Aniketos could already feel the warp inside himself. It was horribly familiar, for it had plagued his sleep before, tormenting him with images that were not his own. Striding forth, Aniketos stiffened his resolve, concentrating on the sanctity of his own mind as his own. Kaahn would not get in there again and, if he was lucky, the dreams that bled into reality would have no way of hurting him if he just kept his mind safe. A shadowy shape dropped from the melting ceiling, landing on the sinking floor. Aniketos let out a wordless growl of anger, hefting his bloody sword. With a flick of his mind, the shadows around Kaahn sprung into life, writhing with tentacles. They grappled at the demon, searching to hold his limbs tight. While the demon was incapacitated or distracted, Aniketos sent more of those multi-coloured arrows flying through the air, hoping to further vex him with fear, blindness, agony and paralysis. He took a step forward, figuring that he may as well draw on what magic he had left before he charged. The shadows near Aniketos rose up, coalescing into three small, hunched shadow people, which immediately swarmed towards Kaahn, launching arrows of their own substance from their flesh. Edited by Aniketos, May 20 2014, 06:58 PM.
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| Shrista | Apr 16 2014, 06:04 PM Post #8 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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Chaos. It tainted the hall, ran through his bones and tingled in his skin, changing something every few heartbeats. The stones flickered, blue, then red, dribbling like so much hot wax. The floor became soft, almost boggy, the next second it was springy as a trampoline. He knew the effect once they started in range. Each time something rolled over them, tried to change them, their bodies would cry out in protest, battling against it, pain rippling through cells, to the marrow of their bones. How he remembered it, such sweet ecstasy, such agony as his bones bent against his will and taught him such a valuable lesson. Tekun's shout drew the barest flicker of a frown across his forehead. He should have expected the doormat to turn up really, but he was merely another obstacle to climb over. Not that he should be completely ignored either, the incubus knew just how dangerous the so called 'Immortal Soldier' could be, and how violent his temper was. After all, he'd instantly jumped on the attack, when all the daemon had done was keep his distance. But by all gods above and below, it was hellishly fun to taunt him, for he was so terribly easy to wind up. Kaahn laughed, a soft sibilant sound that bounced back at him from the floor, reflecting his altogether menacing leer. The walls were sagging mirrors, twisting their reflections dementedly as he peeled himself away from the ceiling, and dropped elegantly towards the enemy. "The Barriurden Princess does not wish to be disturbed, gentlemen." The lunge was premature, missing him by a hair and his feet landed gracefully atop the flat of the blade, his weight driving it into the floor with a musical ring. He could feel the runes engraved on the metal through the soles of his bare feet, and unconsciously flexed his toes, even as it struck sparks from the floor and the sinuous black tentacles whipped up to bind his limbs, holding him down and effectively trapping the sword he now put all his weight behind keeping pinned. Her scream was evident even out in the hall with it's thick stone walls, and he felt it reverberate through his own body, responding in kind. The daemon king's lips peeled back in a terrible snarl, and he flowed upwards, rending the cords effortlessly in tatters, his own voice howling out discordantly with her pain and bottled rage. Wings crumbled into view at his back as the air skirled in a rush, throwing blinding ash and embers from his appendages along the length of the hall. It was gone just as quickly, only to gust again temperamentally, then began to rain honey through the ceiling. The arrows, needless to say, worried him more than the brute with the sword. He didn't know what they were in the second that they flew in his direction, but anything missile shaped flying specifically at your person was usually bad. And in close quarters, even worse, for there was less room than he would have liked to avoid them...so naturally, he did what he did best and exploited someone else. Kaahn hunched inwards, using the Soldier as a human shield, and bought his foot down hard beneath him onto the metal, delighting in the pitiful whine as it gave, becoming a construction of paper and tearing on the next tug, though it was still silver up to the breakage. In one smooth move he whirled, sweeping low and away from Tekun, his tail snatching up the paper blade and whipping about as it became silver again, then wood complete with pungent purple fungus growing from one side. He hefted it experimentally, and hurled it at the soldier, attempting to keep him off balance while he carefully maneuvered to keep him as an annoying barrier between himself and Aniketos' covering fire. One of the shadowy arrows drove right through the membrane of his wing, drawing a grunt of pain and surprise unbidden from his throat, and he ducked low to avoid the others hitting the broad target of his chest, one hand outstretched as he worked his own machinations, binding two of the little shadow people to himself. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed away from the wound, which began to dribble a viscous green fluid. Your friends? My friends. He immediately turned them to firing at Tekun and attempting to slow Aniketos by getting in the way of his legs as he drew his sword. It still left one annoying little runt swarming at him, and he lifted his tail as calmly as any charmed snake rising from a basket, jabbing it forward suddenly and impaling the squirming little beast. |
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| Neriasis | May 9 2014, 04:38 PM Post #9 |
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Ex-God of Order
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Neriasis gave a sigh the shadows he used now as he main means of offense and defense started to coil around the room. As bored and restless as he was, he could have just left and let Kahnn deal with Tekun and Aniketos, but he wanted to see the look on Aniketoss face. It would not be as pleasing to just leave as it would be to have a chance to gloat. The shadows swirled up under him and he used them as a seat leaning back and watching Shrista wither and cry out in the throes of child birth. I ought to just kill you, mused the male drow, a frown creasing his brow, or your child. Your rescuer or ers sound to have killed at least one of my men. Whos really the bad guy here? The worst I did was poison and kidnap you; I did not harm you physically yet they think it is okay to cut their way in here. The drow snorted softly and rolled his eyes. To be honest he didnt care, the men upstairs were expendable, men he would have killed himself in due time do to their uselessness. No, you are right I would not be the one to clean up your corpse should you die here, he said then after a moment asked, Do you want to die? Would it make this all easier? It was an oddly calm sentiment coming from him, almost sadly said and with some small understanding of her position. Though he had never quite been in her position per say, but there were similarities between them. |
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| Tekun | May 11 2014, 12:47 AM Post #10 |
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Immortal Soldier
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In his haste he made a miscalculation. The demon landed upon the blade with his full weight upon it. Unable to twist or turn the blade Tekun soon realized his error. Kaahn took advantage and forced him into the unfortunate position of shield, though it was a step up from a doormat. In the background, scream rang out through the melting corridor. The Immortal Soldiers eyes grew wider with fury and began to struggle. He almost forgot about the beast in that moment. His lapse cost him and he came out of it as his sword broke in his grasp, much to the Immortal Soldiers dismay. Another scream sounded, though this one was of metal and the blade became lighter. His mistake had made this battle all the more difficult. A faint magical aura around Tekuns person dispersed when Aniketos magic struck him and then fizzled unimpressively on impact. A pained grunt and growl accented the twist of his body as Kahn manhandled him in order to soon absorb the incoming arrows. A sharp pain sang through his person when his side was struck by a blunt object. His ill state made everything feel worse than it needed to and hindered his ability to stay oriented. He was released at some point when Kaahn danced away. The shadow arrows struck though they werent immediately noticed, the pain was dull but there. He would have found them negligible if not for the fact Kaahn was using them to keep distance. His head spun as did his person. It took him a moment but he regained his footing and moved towards Kaahn. A broken sword was more than enough for the likes of him. With a hitched breath he charged again in an effort to apply pressure upon his foe. He thought of his reward at the end of this. Shrista would be safe and the bastards who had the gall to step upon her would be crushed. |
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| Aniketos | May 23 2014, 12:08 PM Post #11 |
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Unter friedlichen Umstnden fllt der kriegerische Mensch ber sich selber her.
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Aniketos realised too late that they probably should have talked about strategy before coming here. Tekun rushed in and all too quickly had his sword under Kaahn's foot. Shrista's scream echoed from the bowels of the building. It rang and multiplied inside Aniketos' head, even as he ducked behind his arm for protection from the gust of ash and embers that sloughed off Kaahn's wings. Aniketos still heard it when his arrows dissolved before hitting Tekun's bulk, he heard it again in the metallic shriek of the Immortal Soldier's breaking sword, in the pattering of honey that fell from ceiling to floor. What could he do? The battle between Kaahn and Tekun raged ahead of him and there was no space in this narrow corridor for him to join in. Aniketos cursed as he felt Kaahn snap up the reins of his shadow shapes and, before they could do too much damage, her cut off their existence with a blade-like stroke from his mind. Obviously using them wouldn't work, nor would jumping in and using his sword to hack at whatever got in his way. The latter option was especially tempting, especially hearing Shrista's scream swirling around in his head like that. He stood away from the field of dream destruction for the moment, reaching his mind out to the truncated stumps of his shadow cords. They regrew eagerly, first sending out tiny worms, and then thickening to Hydra necks that whipped around Kaahn. Restraining him wasn't Aniketos' main goal, given that they had done little to hinder the demon in the first place. Instead, they pulled at his limbs before slipping out of his reach, trying to trip him up and irritate him enough to make him do something rash. Other tendrils poked at his eyes, trying to remove his eyesight with sharpened ends. Carefully, Aniketos trod foreward, his eyes on the fight before him. He reached the edge of Kaahn's dreams made reality, his foot sinking slightly into the hot, pliable floor. His sword was at the ready as he waited for a moment where he could slip it past Tekun and strike at the demon he so hated. When both feet stood in the melting floor the force of the dreams hit him like a hot wind, searing at his flesh and the rough stone of his brain. He winced as thick cords of honey dropped into his hair, winding slowly down to his face; even their touch felt like a violation of his soul, as if Kaahn's being was imposed on his bones. Before Aniketos could make any real move, the walls began to shudder violently, in such a way that it made him think of the shaking of a terrified person facing the last moments of their life. Aniketos stumbled, loosing his footing on the slowly liquifying ground, and fell, his shoulder striking hard against the melting mirror-wall. His hand unclenched in pain and his sword tumbled to the floor, landing point first in the soft floor. His own distorted reflection was thrown about horribly in its glass prison then, as Aniketos watched it, it paled and began to ripple. Then he was cold and falling. He sucked in air but got only water, which sliced into his trachea like liquid razors. He writhed about in his freefall, his hands clutching desperately at something, anything, and they slammed into place at the edge of the floor. Water flowed over him, dragged him down for a moment, then tumbled away from him and crashed to earth in the alleyway below. Aniketos coughed, barely holding on with aching and bleeding fingers, as he slowly began to comprehend the situation above. Blinking salt water out of his eyes, he saw that he was outside of the building now, for the wall had suddenly become water and splashed away, exposing the corridor to the air. He drew in a few tortured breaths, heaved himself up and struggled onto the putty-like floor. On all fours, he vomited out the water and pushed himself up, hoping that Kaahn wasn't about to leap on his back and rip his organs out. His sword was still embedded in the floor, which was colder now but still soft. He pulled it out with some effort and wearily stood up, holding his sword defensively across his sodden body. The tip of the sword was coated with the floor, but soon began to sprout thick spires of amethyst. Aniketos cursed weakly, feeling his sword lose its balance in his hand. Still, it was better a club than nothing, and so he turned to the fight once more, lamely reaching out for the shadow cords to inspire them into motion once again. |
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| Shrista | May 25 2014, 07:11 PM Post #12 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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Shrista groaned, writhed and clenched her fists hard enough that her nails began cutting into her palm, tiny drops of blood welling in the hollows left behind when she opened them. Maybe she should let him put her out of this misery, but then what was the point of all this? They had come for her as he said they would, and they would come for a corpse then. Would they still fight for her body knowing there was nothing of her left in it? She almost agreed with Neriasis, that was, until he suggested that he slay her as of yet unborn child, as if that could make up for the price of the lives expended outside. Why was he still here when she'd cast all others out? Oh she was sure if she called him the daemon without would come and throw him aside, but he had his hands full, and she knew that were she to order him to leave them be he would not. He was much too strong of late, and in her vulnerable state what had she left but sheer will to control him? And that too, had been ebbing ever since she'd run from Reine. Rage welled up in her much the same way as the pinpricks of blood did from her skin, bubbling and boiling, seething as scalding until it rushed upwards, bleeding from her skin, pouring from her eyes and dripping from her tongue, bones shaking with it. Her pupils disappeared, and she felt the soaring joy of her counterpart in the corridor as she crossed the threshold that she'd forever been hanging onto. if there was one thing you did not do, it was threaten a child in front of their mother in any form. It usually provoked a universal response. The Drow snatched at her magic, punching through the slippery barrier that had prevented her from touching it for months, grasped it tightly with both hands and refused to let go as it filled her, burning her from the inside out, overwhelmingly bright and full. Senses sharpened, everything was too bright, too loud, every scent smashed into her brain in a new way and each breath was sweeter than the last. She could see each and every fiber of his clothing moved when he breathed. But for how long? The walls shuddered and groaned from within alarmingly as the air stirred, then rushed, whipping anything not held down into a frenzy, the distant whispering of a thousand voices, indistinguishable on the peripheral of hearing rising to an unearthly and chilling wail. Air slammed as hard as any thrown punch at Neriasis, pushing back with tiny invisible hands, screaming at him in a myriad of clashing tongues and grating please. No, she'd not let him touch her, or her child. It would need her, and for that she'd have to survive a little longer. No words were needed. Perhaps his push was all she needed after all. The blade of air formed in her hand as she pushed herself upright into a cramped sitting position, cradling her swollen stomach and panting with the effort. Now that she had it, she barely knew what to do with it. It was as though all the waters held behind a mighty dam had been loosed, crushing everything, including herself under its weight. Too much to be contained. Too long without contact, it was painful beyond belief to control, the stretching of invisible muscles unused for years. Invisible but for the faintest gleam, the sliver of malice upon its curved edge, she drew it with shaking hands down between her thighs and made the incision. The sheets already defiled with her own blood became sodden as she howled with the pain, the blade shattering to nothing in her grip as she pulled her legs up and pushed best as she could, and he was born to the cold screaming air in silence, rich with the scent of brine as the water sluiced under the door. - The sudden snapping of his links with the little shadowy creatures made him click his teeth together in agitation. They had been useful, up to a point, in heckling the pair, but there was little he could do about it now. Without their master conjuring them, he could not wrest the control away and turn them on their allies. So be it. There were other things to play with at hand. Thankfully the narrow space of the corridor provided him ample enough room for himself to hold them off, but not for both of them to come at him at once. And with the larger of the two effectively acting as a neat barricade against projectile fire, he was more than happy to delay them, letting them wear themselves out. "Aw poor you, you don't look so good my doormat friend! Why don't you take a time out?" He skipped back from him, grudgingly giving a little more space, subtly manipulating the already soft floor to something more familiar to his own home territory. It hissed as it warped, the stone rippling like water, only it was not so. It was sand, dark burnt red sand interspersed with the odd glittering fleck of gold, of black, of honey yellow, of green, or blue, coarse and unfamiliar. The scent of the desert hit the corridor in a wave of baking heat, and the floor pitched drunkenly in on itself around them, like so much quicksand, bogging all of them and drawing them in with each movement. Kaahn howled with laughter as he sagged into it up the knees, watching Tekun struggle towards him and work himself into a particularly messy situation. He was working at getting himself free, each beat of his injured wing causing fractures of pain to shiver through the membrane, the surface fissuring like cooked earth. His eyes widened as he felt the wave of unabated fury threaten to smother him through their link, and barked a short laugh as the very foundations of the house quivered, a high keening shriek behind him seeping through the walls, alternating and whispering, calling. He hoped she didn't lose it entirely, if it got much louder he'd end up deaf, then how was he supposed to hear himself talk? Snapping cords lashed at him as he rose, and gradually freed one leg, then the other, slowly standing as carefully as he dared, and immediately began sinking in again, though slower than before. Still they plagued him, never slow enough to allow him to shred them entirely, but just enough to cause a real annoyance, hindering his progress. His baleful gaze turned, rested upon the fallen councillor with a measure of some glee when he saw him topple, and flexed his claws. Playing with Tekun was fun, but he knew just how terribly it would hurt the fragile soul spawning in her prison, how it would break her when he showed her every detail of tearing this mere mortal and rending him limb from limb. The smile was wiped off as he felt the warp shift around him, picking up on some subtle nuance, and bend reality on its own. His control was there, but were he to not focus upon it as now, it had a habit of randomizing everything. Such was chaos. Salt, and water. How he hated the ocean. He smelled it before it happened, the wall juddering with Aniketos' impact, and the sand about his ankles slowing him, snaring him in his own trap and the cords preventing his escape as it sloshed into the corridor. By all hellfire it burned, as a skinned wound burned naked in the cold. He felt himself abruptly dragged from the ground and swept away, dashed against the far wall where the spot exploded into a swarm of stinging insects, and scattered him across the corridor floor, dragging his tainted warp influence with him. The ground was no longer a sodden boggy mass but fragile as glass, thin ice that threw greenish subterranean light against the decaying walls. Kaahn hunched on all fours, his body aching from the contact with the water, the infernal dousing he'd received leaving him raw as sandpaper. One wing hung limp and ragged, crunched between himself and the wall when the sea had interrupted. Sickly poisonous flame flickered under his skin where the fractured pottery cracks crisscrossed the impacts, no longer beautiful and smooth but damaged and set to ruin. And his face... His face was a nightmare walking. Eyes dark and sunken, burning feverishly as dying stars, there was nothing beneath the shattered mess of his cheek, his jaw, but that blazing void and the bright tongues of fire licking between the gaps. Skin decayed as he rose, ornaments tinkling in protest, flaking away like blackened ashes as quickly as it tried to reform itself. Gingerly he explored the ruin of his jaw with his tongue, a tendril of smoke probing at the exposed teeth. It was terribly unfortunate. It was really going to ruin his day when things were going so...swimmingly. He pressed one hand to his forehead, slicked back the now loose hair, wet and straggling like seaweed, and became shadow, his form sliding paper thin to dance across the floor to his intended prey. He flowed up, attaching himself to Aniketos, and solidified before him, death rictus smile grinning from beneath the thin veneer of his face. He was going to enjoy this, fully, and completely. "Not tired are we? Not the irrepressible Aniketos! Here, let me help you to your feet!" He curled one hand about his sword arm, the other closing tight about his throat as he lifted him from the ground, gradually increasing the pressure with a savage glee, squeezing, crushing against the order that determined his actions. You will not harm him. Ah but it was defensive now, wasn't it? Or wasn't it? The order bore on him heavily, and he strained against it, imposing his own will to push against what had been placed in her strength upon him. They had struck first. They had broken the boundaries. He was going to remove them, and thus prevent it from happening again. Kaahn pressed his thumb into the hollow of Aniketos' throat, and leered as his claw drew a thin line of blood from that sweetly pale skin. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. She won't even miss you, once you're gone." |
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| Aniketos | Jun 1 2014, 02:58 PM Post #13 |
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Unter friedlichen Umstnden fllt der kriegerische Mensch ber sich selber her.
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Another keening cry pierced Aniketos' mind as he struggled to stand up straight, his body convulsing with suppressed coughs. Shrista's fear and pain nagged at his mind, piercing through the alarm bells set off by Kaahn's malicious presence. His vision rocked and wavered with the pains of his struggling body, but though he laboured to breathe, he kept Kaahn in his sights. The demon was injured, his fellflame interior exposed for the world to see. One wing hung from his shoulder like a broken umbrella. Aniketos thought dimly in that moment that if he were to die then, he would be content in just having injured the man. He'd ruined that pretty face, taken a chunk out of that beast, he had finally done something. Kaahn made a movement in Aniketos' direction and he hefted up his mineral-encrusted blade as if it was a club. But then Kaahn flattened, his fiery depths becoming something thinner than paper. He flowed across the floor and Aniketos struck wildly, the spikes of amethyst on his sword sending up violet sparks spraying across the floor. But then Kaahn was there, right in front of him, his features filling out like a balloon being blown up. Aniketos had no time to react; he was still trying heft up his sword, his lungs clutching desperately around one last load of water. The demon's hands snaked around him, paralysing his sword arm and pressing into his throat. Aniketos let the useless sword clatter to the floor, his wet honey eyes staring into those twin bronze circles that stared back at him. The demon's face was riddled with tics; something was happening inside of him and Aniketos could feel it wafting over like the scent of smoke on the hot wind. Shrista seemed close somehow, the distant shrieking of her presence coming just the littlest bit nearer. Aniketos was still, his vision threatening to close into darkness. There was a burning at the bottom of his lungs, from that pool of water that he'd kept held in there. Like an arrow, he thought sleepily, his body lurching with sudden, warm, heaviness, Like the arrow, remember? He'd nearly died then, it had been so pleasant, like slipping under a completely clear tide and letting himself slip simply away. Why not now? There was water inside of him now, if only he could fold himself inside out and dive in... But a hard claw scraped at his soft skin, drawing a hot, bloody line down his throat. His eyes opened wide, staring at the demon's dissolving face. The words he spoke came out all wide and mangled because of his torn open mouth, but the pierced Aniketos deeper than any arrow. Not that he imagined them to be true; rather, he hated how blatantly this creature could lie. His trachea rippled. Aniketos inhaled, spat out what few words he could come up with: "Fuck you. Liar." He coughed, his body convulsing with the effort, and spat salt water up into Kaahn's face. He gasped, feeling air and energy rush into his body. Magic flowed through him on instinct and an arrow of glowing red substance coalesced in his hand. In his fury, he wielded it like a knife, striking up towards the demon's belly, catching him while he was close. Gods, he'd love to see that creature writhe in pain, unable to escape the agony that seared through is very veins. Then he would allow himself to die, if he even needed too. Then he would be content. |
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| Tekun | Jun 4 2014, 11:23 PM Post #14 |
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Immortal Soldier
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Kahnn slung another taunt to Tekuns face and once against the cursed fiend fell just out of his reach. Tekun was reckless, more so now than when he was possessed with his infamous bloodlust. At least in that state his lack of caution was accompanied with a power that could kill a hundred men and not sluggishness and a prevalent sense of vulnerability. In his fevered state he wondered why the thing he wanted to destroy most was so untouchable now. He could count the number of time hed fallen short of a dire goal on both hands and he could not bear to imagine that this would be one of them. It was supposed to have been so much simpler than this but this beast barred them and made them both look inept. He could not lose her. Not after everything hed gone through with that woman. His surroundings shifted just as it had for his temporary ally. The ground broke apart beneath his heels as the fabric of reality unraveled and then he began to sink. Had the floor become a hungry beast? Memories of Ashoka came flooding back with the dry heat and the accursed sand, but the sands had never threatened to eat him. That damned laugh pierced through his person and boiled his blood. It greedily devoured him to near his waist and held him fast but still he tried to trudge through with almost no progress to be made. False hope was instilled into him when he noticed Kaahn beating his wings to break free from the very thing he tried to trap Tekun with. He had a chance here if he could just get a little closer. Bastard! He shouted with venom and then took a ragged breath that was followed with a series of violent coughs. He faced not only sand but the suffocating hell emitting from the beating wings of the Incubus. It had been uneasy to breath but now it was almost suffocating. "She NEEDS you dammit!" He mentally scolded himself for his own weakness. Why was his strength failing him? If he could just hit him hard enough a few times in the right place this could all be over or if he could just move through this sand. He could die afterwards for all he cared but not before Kahnn and not before he knew Shrista would be saved. And still the monster laughed and somehow Kaahn freed himself before he could. For the briefest of instances Tekun swore his skin turned to paper and then to something akin to a flower petal. Pain sailed through his body just as quickly as he felt his skin return to how it should have been to begin with, though the pain remained as vivid as the surreal warping hallway around him. He vehemently screamed out in anguish and in defiance of his situation through his choking. Because of these distractions he didnt see the sudden wave of salt water that crashed down upon him. Kaahn was swept away but Tekun was hit by the wave and was forced to endure it. The sand beneath him became a quagmire that kept him cemented to the ground. When his body bent backward he felt it stretch and almost rip and break but he resisted it with what strength he had and clung to his broken blade, his only hope of winning. When it was done his body violently recoiled forward and he immediately gasped and coughed and choked. The insides of his stomach poured forth with the water he was forced to swallow. Still he coughed and gagged and managed to breathe and did so as though the air could turn be sucked from room at any moment. He wasted no time trying to recover and lashed and struggled but failed to do anything about his situation. He was stuck. He heard the fiend. He was already upon the foolish councilor, a man he wished to have nothing to do with and in fact contemplated killing at some point or another but stopped only because he knew it would upset Shrista. He couldnt even move to aid him. No, it was worse than that; he couldnt even so much as turn to watch the horror unfold before his eyes. No man should ever have to die at the hands of a monster like this. The thought crossed Tekuns mind that perhaps Aniketos wasnt so unlikeable. He was the reason he had managed to arrive here after all. It didnt matter now that he had intended to use him for the purpose of getting here, fighting and then getting Shrista out of this hellhole. After this was done which he would discard of him; he was a tool to be used. But now he was about to be just another person who was about to fall victim to something akin to the horrors that haunted him still. He couldnt let him die for any reason right now; he couldnt live with the thought. Tekun began to hyperventilate and desperately grasped at the wet sand that restrained him and twisted and thrashed in what was a vain effort to act. His muscles inexplicably began bulge as something uneathly came over him; the world around him blurred as though his fever had come back with vigor. There was more than adrenaline pumping through his body, even if it was the curse that had wrought so much death it would be welcomed like an old friend. He brute forced his way out with minimal effort that was accompanied with rapid and heavy breaths and exhumed himself from what could have been his grave. Sand erupted in steadiness and in clumps as he broke free; the fact it had been a problem to begin with became inconceivable to the Immortal Soldier. He could feel his heart throbbing in his chest, hard enough that he felt it could have been torn apart as easily as his environment. He laid witness to Kaahn grasping the councilor by the throat. He was no doubt toying with him before delivering the killing blow. His climb out transitioned into a bull rush. Tekun launched himself forward through the muck effortlessly. He felt himself connect hard against the Incubus. He knew Kaahn wouldnt budge much, even if caught off guard. The demon was still stronger than him but even strong men went down if they were stabbed enough and he'd killed enough to know that they were just that. A stronger man. The motions came almost instinctively with the impact; Tekun began to drive the jagged blade into the side of Kaahns neck again and again in frenzy as though puncturing as many holes into this hell beast neck flesh was the only action that ever mattered in his hundred years of living. Enthusiastic wrath overwhelmed him and bred with each wound he painted on this canvas. I am not a Fucking Doormat! You! Filthy! Ugly! Cunt! Edited by Tekun, Jun 4 2014, 11:26 PM.
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| Neriasis | Jun 5 2014, 09:16 AM Post #15 |
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Ex-God of Order
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Shifting around a little and using the shadows for support the male got up on his knees and leaned his arms against one of the flat and deceptively dangerous shadows. Placing his chin on his arms before laying his ear flat against one to consider the female still writhing in pain before him, and he started to think. Or more like he started to remember, he had a son, well sort of the creature that had given birth to the thing had been something of a clone of himself. The spirit of order had grown tired of the games Neriasis played and wanting someone who could actually be a proper avatar for the spirit had stripped the man in two. Neriasis had never reconnected to that half of himself. But that was not the point of his memory, it was about children. A child he had never wanted having ended up being his responsibility, a child he vaguely even remembered, a child who had grown into something of a mischievous sort all on his own. But really what he was thinking is why anyone would want to go through the agony of giving birth in the first place or the responsibility of taking care of something so helpless and messy. The sudden magical attack took the drow and his thoughts by surprise. The air hit him solidly and he tumbled from his shadowy chair, falling backwards onto his arse, the shadows scattering like large angular spiders as he hit the ground. Shaking his head to clear the slight disorientation from the hit before pushing himself up on to his feet with an amused laugh. While he still didnt like her, he gave her points for willpower and moxie. No hed never thought her weak truly, just not who she should have been. So yes he had pushed her, hed pushed her when they had met the first time, and then kept pushing from the moment he had sat down in that tavern to this moment now; and he would keep pushing her to see how far she could go. Why he did this was as good as anyones guess. Come now, just lay back down, he said oddly softly as he watched her push herself up into what one could only call a seated position. I dont want to fioh okay you do that the drow blanched slightly as he realized what she was really doing with that blade of air. Women, always having to be over dramatic and gross. He was too appalled to notice the water breaching the underside of the door into his not so hidden hideout. Well congrats its a boy, said the drow as he pulled his shadows back to himself in case she found more strength to assault him with air. It was kind of fitting though with the amount of hot air he expended for someone to literally turn it against him. You know I really wish they would hurry up out there. Ive got better placed to be, and this stench is really starting to seep into my pores. We should have tea sometime once this is all over. Just a nice little sit down, I feel you have interesting stories to tell; and look you made another story. I am sure all kinds of people will be interested to hear about this. |
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| Shrista | Jun 14 2014, 03:25 PM Post #16 |
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Pariah, Apostate, Heretic
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Cords of muscle tightened and stood out beneath his flesh, his breath increasing as he struggled against the constricting bond that tried to prevent him from crushing the life from his hated enemy. It was almost like having her right there, hanging off his arm to add her weight to it, fingers scrabbling at his skin, trying to hook beneath his own clawed digits and pry them away. The words gasped out, so foolishly with what little air the human had left in him, wasted on expletives and denials, cracked his grin wider. Skin and muscle blackened and peeled away, sickly tongues of flame questing from the darkness as it drifted like so much ash, flat as shadows. With Aniketos weakening by the second, he probably should have seen the last ditch attempt coming, should not have been reveling in the pain he was causing, should have kept his eye on the game. Kaahn flinched away from the salt water, a low hiss of sun blasted wind escaping his maw, a sound like so much air escaping a bloated cadaver. He might have made that push then, bond or no bond, and killed the man dangling in his grip but for the sudden twist, the jerk as the arrow plunged through his flesh and up, searing even as it became nothing. On reflex his hand opened, spilling the councillor onto the ground, forgotten in that moment where everything was pain. Every beat of his black heart was pain. Every breath that drew through his broken face was agony. He staggered back, first one step, then another, half doubled as the air stuck, jammed in his craw. He could feel the sudden growing alarm as the pain shivered through their link, heard the sob that tore from her throat from their empathy. Finally he sucked in a great breath, fingers clawing at his flesh as the shriek erupted from him, a sound from the abyss itself and nothing human left in it. The walls shook, crumpled and reformed, flashed in a multitude of colours and textures, became a thousand grasping arms and hideously twisting faces, limbs entangled, reaching, reaching... Would it never end? There was no wound, only the sick pain, veins full of magma, his flesh charring away steadily on one side, pitifully broken wing a blaze of embers. For half an instant he straightened against the unexpected cramping in his midsection, eyes watering with the effort. He reached for the unsettled hall, which wavered between normality and pure chaos, found his focus disrupted to the point that jagged lightning dancing behind his eyes like afterimages in his skull kept him from letting the whole lot come down on their heads. The stone formed, then slid apart, red sand fluttering in a fresh wind, the walls gone, replaced with three burning suns and the scream of a storm, stone and darkness, torches fluttering in their sconces, dribbling down the wall- The impact as Tekun hit him threw him from his feet with a snarl, tail whipping around the man's waist and dragging him down with him to roll past Aniketos into a mire of multicoloured plastic balls, the shriek of a child suddenly ringing too loud in the warped space of reality. So close, it was difficult to disengage, and he punched hard with his right, leaning all his weight into the blow as he struck at Tekun's kidneys, headbutting in an attempt to gore him with the rack of horns about his face. "You hadn't enough backbone to win a drow princess before, and you haven't now, Doormat." The jerking forward movement served to throw the blade off as it punched into the curve between neck and shoulder, the inhuman, sanity eroding wail screeching forth from his mouth, mingling with the Immortal Soldier's curses. Gore bubbled and hissed as it spurted from the wound, a gout of flame leaping forth to blister at the hand held so close, gripping the hilt of the enchanted blade. Air scorched his lungs as it came out, and went in again, and again, responding in kind with his own fists, smashing them into the man with all his strength, enough that were he a mere mortal he'd have been pulped already. "ENoUGH moRtAL! nOw yoU DIE!" His left eroded, blackened polished claws of bone snicked shut around Tekun's forearm, the agony of that cursed blade pulsing through his skin, dripping from his mouth, filming his teeth and sapping his strength as he caught him in that crushing grip, straining to withhold the inexorably moving shard of metal. Im...possible... Wrapped about one another, grunting with exertion and close as lovers, he got a perfect view as the lettering in the sword lit blindingly bright, the spell triggering as it came into contact. He laughed then through his agony, the sound distorted, rippling the air as the sensation like hot iron hooks dragging behind his navel to somewhere other. Let it not be said there was not a price for everything. With monumental effort he shifted his hip, body shrieking with protest as he moved to give himself enough reach. Kaahn flicked his tail, the needles rising as it rose sinuous as any serpent, and punched through Tekun's back, ring and all, to protrude from the middle of his chest. "WEeP...sOldIEr...yoUr SAcRifiCe...iN vAIn...so...unLoVEd..." In one sharp motion, he tore it back through, the needles left embedded in the bloody mess of his chest, the blood of the so-called immortal spattering the stone. His body darkened to shadow, fragmented and burst into a thousand tiny slivers, empty voids in the air, flat as paper, and winked out. Banished. - ((Some mood.)) "Shut your pie hole." The distant thought skittered across the well of power that she'd become, that it was a strange saying. Where had she picked it up? Then it was gone, slithering away out of reach, too fast, not fast enough. Her hands gripped fistfuls of the sheets, wadding it between her thighs to soak up the blood that continued to flow, dizzying, weakness making her hands shake as she went about the task of riding the storm that was in her, that had begun to throw the meager furniture against the walls. No matter how she told herself to calm, she could not. There just wasn't time...never enough time in the world, and with Neriasis being the typically useless male that she'd been raised to expect, she refused to even waste a glance on him. A weave of air tied the link between herself and the limp body of the child, another severed it entirely. Her energy waning, she gently slid her hands beneath the slick form and drew it to herself. As Neriasis had said, it was a boy. Small, imperfect features in repose, not a breath fluttered in his tiny chest. Panic began to filter through the veneer of power, and the winds died, her coal coloured hands running across his flesh. His skin was dark, though far lighter than hers, aged wood against night sky. A fine down of blond hair clung his crown, and fervently she wondered what colour his eyes were, when he opened them. And he would open them, he must. He was hers, and she was his. Shrista was aware of her desperation as she clutched him to herself, willing him to breathe, to take that first gasp of life giving air. Her lips moved soundlessly in a prayer to the Goddess, head bowing over the babe, entreating, begging. Flashes of pain slid through the link with her companion now and then, the aches of being thrown about by the wave of water, before it was cut and suddenly drowning her mentally, strangling her with his empathy. Fire in his blood tore the cry from her lips, shoulders heaving the emotion loose as a ragged sob, her finger tracing the juvenile features of the stillborn baby. "Nau..." She had carried him for a year, it could not end like this! It would not! She knew it was wrong. By all the gods above and below it was wrong, the rational part of her mind cringed, cowering in the corner while she took the power into her hands, and fed it into the child. Wrong to use so much when she was already so weak, for fear of burning herself out entirely. His chest moved as she pumped air into his lungs. Wrong to try to bring back what was already lost. Wrong to allow herself such denial. His heart beat, pushing the blood about his limp limbs. "Guuan..." Someone somewhere outside the bubble she'd built for herself was shouting. Words filtered through, her limbs trembling with fatigue. Barbaric...stop...at once... Or perhaps it was only in her own head. Reality didn't matter. Water spotted the tiny features, spattering the snub nose, a cheek, the soft lips, salt in her mouth. The magic faded, withdrew, and she felt hands gently removing hers, pulling them with some difficulty away, as a numbing fog crept through leaden limbs. "Blue...they would have been blue..." Confusion coiled in her weary mind, fixated on the babe, uncomprehending as she stifled it for herself. Shrista leaned into the familiar scent that meant safe, drowning in her silence until oblivion slackened her grip, a collar wet with tears and her ears full of the pained breaths of the sun. Her sun, come across the sky to defy fate and rejoin her again. "Uuthli..." |
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| Aniketos | Jul 4 2014, 12:56 PM Post #17 |
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Unter friedlichen Umstnden fllt der kriegerische Mensch ber sich selber her.
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Aniketos spilled onto the ground, his hands empty and his head spinning. He heard Kaahn struggling to breathe and he could see, through his blurry and fading vision, the demon's feet staggering away across the shifting landscape. Aniketos' body felt so heavy that it was like being shoved into the ground. It was so heavy that each panting breath felt like it took a gargantuan thrust from his diaphragm. But when Kaahn screamed, he found could still manage a smile. The sound of the demon's suffering made him feel awake. He had done this. He would not pass out. He would not die. He blinked and breathed, his vision slowly colouring itself. His fingers twitched and crawled over the floor, making their way across wood one moment and hot sand the next. He could not pay any mind to the triple-sunned desert forcing itself into their reality: he had to stay alive and awake. His right hand came across something hard. It was the hilt of his sword. He clenched his hand around the leather-wrapped hilt and dragged it towards himself, drawing a line in the red sand. The purple crystals were still growing at the end of the blade but he didn't care: all he needed was something to root him in life. Rolling over onto his side, he held Eiletheia close, more like a friend than a weapon. With his breathing easier and his sight clearer, he witnessed Tekun slamming into Kaahn. They rolled away together and Aniketos could no longer see them. He only heard their grunted curses and insults. He smiled. With shaky limbs and Eiletheia in one hand, he pushed himself up onto all fours. His heart went thok, thok, thok against his ribs like a wooden mallet. It protested his brush with death, or else it rejoiced that it was still alive. He rejoiced too. Coughing painfully, he heaved his weight back onto his feet and slowly straightened his legs. He swung his club-like sword up, his weak arms folding automatically to the guard position. His gaze rolled over the flickering hallway, just in time to see Tekun's broken blade thrust through the demon's belly. He laughed and nearly undid himself with coughing. When he looked up again, Kaahn's tail was thrust through Tekun's body and the demon spoke in warped words, his voice seeming to shriek across other worlds. Aniketos lifted his sword a little more, making to help Tekun, but the demon flickered, his body becoming flat black shadow, and then with a silent explosion, he was gone. Aniketos felt reality slam back into place, thrusting away the last bit of the dream. The effect was like a headache hitting him all at once. He dropped to his knees again and watched, in an uncomprehending daze, as the crystals on his sword began to melt away like butter over a fire. Except they didn't just disappear; no, their colour bled onto Eiletheia's silvery steel, staining it purple and blanching it to near transparency. Once the movement had stopped, Aniketos slowly flipped the blade over in his hands, his mind aching in its effort to comprehend the change. He gave up trying to understand. With some difficulty, Aniketos sheathed the sword so he could think about it later and turned his aching eyes about in search of Tekun. The hallway had been ruined. Where the wall had become water was a great hole, opening out into the alleyway. Faces had begun to appear in the windows of the building next door, pale with confusion and terror. Looking at the walls that remained, Aniketos saw that they had become rippled and warped with the strain of the dream magic. Tekun was on the ground, his blood spreading across the floor. A delayed panic set Aniketos' heart rushing against his chest. Thok thok thok, it went as he crawled across the distance between himself and Tekun. When he got to him, he sat up and started to fumble with the buttons on his padded doublet. He threw the sopping garment to the ground and ripped off the shirt underneath. With a strength he didn't know he had, he wrung the shirt out. Saltwater pattered onto the floor, mixing with the hot blood and swilling it around his knees. With the shirt at least damp instead of dripping, he thrust it at Tekun's stomach, dumbly forgetting that the wound had gone all the way through him. "Tekun, Tekun," he said, his mouth gummy, "Are you awake? Alive?" No, the man's eyes were open. He could talk. But he looked as pale as a corpse, and he should have, what with all the blood on the floor. The air felt electric with magic, and now that Aniketos felt it, he thought he could see the magic swarming about under Tekun's skin. At that he remembered who he was talking to and, despite himself, laughed. "What am I talking about? You're the Immortal Soldier. You can keep going until someone patches you up, right?" Still, he pushed the shirt onto the wound, unaware of the fact that it wasn't really bleeding any more, then dragged Tekun's heavy hand to hold it in place. As he did so, he felt an unexpected focus on his fingertips, as if his life had lurched right into his hand. When he pulled away, he was just the slightest bit more tired, but he could guess what had happened. That tiny bit of energy helped Tekun live, helped him keep himself together. Standing slowly, he reached down and grabbed Tekun's other hand, dragging him to his feet. His momentary humour had disappeared. He felt something different from the end of the hall: not just Shrista's physical suffering, but something deeper and darker calling out across the distance. He picked up his discarded doublet and put it back on, wet and bloodied though it was. Though the thought of fighting any more made him want to cry, he had a hand on the hilt of his sword as he went forth. Someone else was there too: a malevolent someone, a someone he recognised. Aniketos forgot his suffering and felt vitriol boiling up bitterly through his insides. He came to the door and threw it open, but he didn't see Neriasis at first. Shrista was there, right in front of him, in a mess of blood and stink, something in her arms. A very tiny something. A silent something. Aniketos forgot about Neriasis. He shoved past the man like he didn't exist, rushing to his dark-skinned love, who was so starkly real after this year of separation. His senses were flooded with the heady scents and sights of birth and death; it felt like his wide eyes took in every tiny detail, from the exact patterns of blood on the sheets to the slight sparkle of tears of Shrista's cheeks. Numbly, he fell to his knees one more time, sinking to Shrista's level to peer at the something she held in her arms. Baby. Their baby. Skin like the colour of the starless night sky over Madrid. Light hair like downy feathers. No breath. No life. Shrista clutched their child like she would die if she didn't. She wouldn't die. Aniketos peeled her fingers away and picked up the tiny corpse, slippery with blood and thick vernix. Aniketos cradled him in his arms just as he'd always imagined, thinking that the sheer strength of his imagination might cause the thing to open up its lungs and scream. He hated the sound of a baby crying but at this moment he would have given anything to hear it. He sagged against Shrista even as she was limp against him. Together they shared the weight of the dead child, too stricken to cry any more, too pained to even move. |
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| Tekun | Jul 27 2014, 09:17 PM Post #18 |
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Immortal Soldier
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Vague shapes that bled together and the inferno of hate was all Tekun could recollect of the struggle before intensely sharp pain of Kaahn running him through. It choked him and then he found himself in a dark corner of his mind, nightmares came to help smother him. He found himself in the downpour, laying upon his stomach in mud and blood. The chill of death invited itself in, forcing the door open. It was as unwanted as the looming armored figure looming over him. Even though he had since conquered the monster its presence still lingered. Evil never dies; it could only be sealed away. Just as before he gasp and clenched at the hole in his abdominal. It was truly just as before. Maybe this time hed die, he pondered. Blood splattered in fantastic fashion and then dribbled all across the floor as though someone had spilled a glass. His body tensed and forced itself together. It screamed, Youre not allowed to break. Where the wound should have been torn wide, it bent grotesquely and creped to repair itself just enough to work. Tekun had no desire to die just yet, if it happened then so be it but if he could just hang on hed be able to see her again. He forced the blood flow to stop through concentration alone and then redirected its flow around the wound in an effort to try to keep the blood flowing and to stop himself from losing any more. Someone was saying his name; he was far too distracted to realize who though it should have been obvious, Then he felt the sharpest of pains as something wet with weight pressed into the open wound. By Shadows daggers! What the hell are you doing!? Tekun screamed as a new torture fell over his body. Maybe he would have retorted from responding back felt far too tedious at this point. It didnt help he had immediately saw a way to fix himself through the body before him. Silently, he reminded himself to take just enough to fix himself up, there was no sense in leaving a corpse upon the ground. He sapped life from the councilor seconds after he had made contact with him. The sensation that filled Tekun was warm water washing away the grime, honey on the tongue. The end result was just enough to seal the wound to prevent it from killing him when his body actually gave out. He would fix himself fully soon enough. He had every intention on draining the last ounce of life from the perpetrator of all of this. As far as his concern went, their biggest threat was gone. Lost in his thought he found himself pulled to his feet almost forcefully. Tekun obliged unsteadily and stumbled when he was fully on his feet. Were not done yet He muttered to himself, grasping what was left of Akul. Hed get it repaired later. He barged through the open doorway and stopped behind Aniketos. He should have felt a wave of relief to see her, he could feel her from here but the sight and solemnness that hung in the air became apparent once he realized there was no life coming from the small thing in her arms. Aniketos pushed past what looked to be another drow. And there he collapsed and took the child. She gave birth and the child passed. Had it been alive to begin with? Tekun swallowed dryly and his mouth hung open as though to find something to say. There was only fighting after grief, removing the accursed demon from the picture felt like a small accomplishment in the wake of this sorrow. There was something to finish here, Tekun set his eyes on Neriasis. He looked almost as broken as the blade he wielded. Tekun was caked in his own blood and wet sand. He wore a fatigued face that was slightly drained of color. His person was more disheveled now than it had been with to begin with. His eyes were bloodshot, watery. He would bare it in silence but every part of his body pined for the pain to stop, some areas far more than others, and now an emotional toll had been struck. He pursed his lips together and clenched his fist tightly. What do you have to say for yourself? He rasped, barely biting back his tears. |
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| Neriasis | Jul 29 2014, 10:37 AM Post #19 |
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Ex-God of Order
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Always unbidden the ghost of a long dead elf took shape in the air next to Neriasis. She doubted that anyone but the fake drow could see her, but she had come to terms with this. It allowed her to be an unseen conscious to the man who stood watching the scene of Shristas struggle with a stillborn child with coldness to his being that had not always been there. Why do you stay? she asked of Neriasis, you could have left this room long before now. Are you so engulfed by your own darkness to wish it upon others? At first he ignored the whispering from the ghost his red eyes hard as he watched Shrista, he felt no anger at that moment, but he did not feel pity either; there was no emotion to describe how he felt in that moment. Empty, that might have been the best way to describe it. He had wanted to feel something, anger, hate, even joy at her suffering; he would have even taken sadness. But he could not find the energy to feel anything, for a moment sound seemed to disappear until she uttered the words Bluethey would have been blue The drow did not even flinch as the door was thrown upon. He did not care as Aniketos shoved right on past him to get to Shrista. It was fine, all part of his plan. Or well there was no more plan, the plan had completed days ago. This was all just the aftermath, and Neriasis had stayed to watch it all play out. Of course he was doing so as a passive observer at the moment. Still no sign of emotion crossed his features as he looked upon the reunion. But then the anger that flooded back in to him was like a jolt of lightning, out of nowhere and burned hot as the sun. His right fist clenched and the shadows snaked around it like hungry scavengers. Sure everything had come together as he had planned, but that did not stop the anger he felt at fate once again mocking him with something he had destroyed ages ago. Why do you do this? asked the ghost in soft sad tones moving between Neriasis and Shrista obscuring his view. Neriasis blinked confused as a new player entered the field, he had not expected anyone of significance to have come along on this grand crusade to save Shrista. But this second man seemed of some importance, or at least self-importance as he posed a question directed at the drow. For the time being he forgot the ghost, though she still hovered off to the side of him looking upon him with sad but accusing eyes. He could have asked who the man was but instead decided to give an answer to the question posed. He swept his arm out, a gesture that loosened his fist into an open palm, though the shadows still clung tightly to their host. Look for yourself, he said in patient tones, I have accomplished what they together could not. A small smirk played across his dark features. Or perhaps I have started something which will only end in sorrow. Sometimes all it takes is a push |
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| Tekun | Aug 10 2014, 08:28 PM Post #20 |
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Immortal Soldier
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Tekun was incapable of noticing the additional presence within the room which meant there was nothing to distract him from the drow before him. The scene that Neriasis created had been motivation enough for Tekun to put every ounce of his attention upon him. As if Neri was proud of himself, he extended his arm outwards and presented the tragedy before them with the faintest of smiles. Tekun unsure of what kind of answer he expected from the man who had caused this mess to begin with but he waited for him to finish speaking. Ive heard enough. The warriors voice trembled. Tekun swiftly extended his left arm with an outstretched hand towards the guild head and closed his hand tightly into a fist and yanked the entirety of his arm back hard. He wasted no time; he charged and bared his teeth. Neriasis would feel his life force ripped forcefully from his person. It was a sensation comparable to being bludgeoned in the head while wearing a helmet however the pain rippled all over rather than being concentrated solely in one place. Small blood vessels would break and drew blood which flowed from his person and towards his aggressor. Portions of the wounds on his body began to visibly heal thanks to his leached life. No force on Soare is going to stop me from taking your head, monster! What had been trembling turned into a battle cry. |
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| Neriasis | Aug 12 2014, 10:43 AM Post #21 |
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Ex-God of Order
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The drow had endured many tortures over the ages, from actual torture to the pain of fighting a powerful adversary. This attack ranked in at about a three maybe a four. While he was not immune to such attacks and was still affected by the pain it caused it was a mere tingle in comparison to the rage he held inside. Rage not at the attack itself but at the ridiculousness of the other's emotions, not to mention the emotional moment between Shrista and Aniketos which he chose to ignore for the moment in order to focus upon Tekun. The attack had him falter physically for a moment, one knee going to the ground; but his mind was just as sharp as ever, pushing through the fog of pain that came from such things. His grin widened, white teeth grit in a face of darkness accompanied by the flash of bright red eyes. The three vectored shadows snaked out from behind Neriasis like a canopy of angry snakes forming a shield from Tekunfs physical attack as their tips slammed into the ground between the drow and immortal soldier. At the same time Neriasis had found the concentration to throw a gravity well behind Tekun, if it did not outright drag the man into it, it would at the very least slow his progress. Neriasis could feel it pulling at him as well but he was far enough out of its radius that the tug was little more than a gentle breeze. Placing his foot back on the ground and rising from the position the other's attack had placed him in he gave a soft laugh. "I think I get it now," he mused softly to himself, at the same time the shadows in the room started to elongate and darken, "Rather pathetic really. I know why you're here, and isn't it such a shame you weren't part of the plan. Poor boy, you wanted to be the knight in shining armor." He ho-hummed to himself and his hands ran through an empty space in front of him and as they drew apart a black scythe appeared in them. "I'm afraid your princess belongs to another castle," he said in a mockingly slow voice. Dark hands caressed the shaft of the scythe lovingly as red eyes flickered over Tekun. He didn't plan on using the scythe but it was nice to show your enemy what kind of weaponry you possessed if they thought you to be unarmed. "Now here's a story you should hear little boy," continued the drow as the shadows engulfed the room, snuffing out any light that had been there prior, "I'm not from Soare, heck I'm not even from Elenlond. Do you really think you have what it takes to defeat me?" The drow's voice seemed to shift about the room, one moment being where he had been to being across the room, to being close to Tekun before coming from behind near the entrance to the room. "This was never about harming anyone dear boy, you and Aniketos did that. It was about showmanship, if you want it to be about bloodshedcwell perhaps another day. I think I have a new ally to make. Which thank you dear Shrista for introducing us; and thank you Aniketos and your romantic rival for letting me see his potential. I'm bored now and have much more pressing matters to attend to." He gave a swift bow which would have been lost on those who could not see in the dark before blinking outside the building. ((Ending here, wrap up is long over due. Though I am always interested to see reaction posts, not needed but always nice. Now we can commence with more shenanigans. -throws sparkles-)) Edited by Neriasis, Aug 12 2014, 10:49 AM.
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