Masks 2

Orla was... horrified in the brief moments before life became a monstrously painful overwhelming crash of sensations of pain.

The fact that there were multiple limbs locked together and only one brain to control everything was an issue.

A moment of brief sanity as the conscieseness of Khazra gave Orla a brief respite, to contemplate a... nightmarish option to perhaps escape her own regeneration.

Show Content

Spoiler
And that was when the giant ball of flesh and meat and blood and hair and teeth began tearing itself apart. The only blessing was that this was only relatively less painful than the state she was already in, although the sight of limbs and bodies being torn out of the central mass of Orla was made even more... Awful, because of how the bits were rapidly regenerated into Orlas before falling over dead as the regenrative abilities cut off, so bits of limbs forming into half healed bodies, heads and faces and masses struggling to form into twitching wholes. The worst were the ones that seemed to come out mostly as full Orlas and just laid there, making small feeble motions and and making .

Absolutely drenched in blood and visera, pulling herself out of the masses of her selves, a hand shoved it's way out, and a sword flew into it's hand as Orla cut herself out of the remaining bits attached to herself as she finished trimming.

"Okay. That was, one of the worst things I've had to do." She said, a mad look in her eyes as her armour flew to the apparently core Orla, attaching back to her as she stepped over herselves, looking at the other Radkas.

"This isn't going well then." She said, looking at the grinning maniacs and the missing spaces some heroes had been, the remainers now outnumbered.

"Any chance you can... stop these bits coming back when I kill them?" She asked Khazra, grimacing.