Re: The Grand Battle II! [Round 5: Value City Mall!]
05-25-2010, 07:38 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Schazer.
Vyrm'n flew near-blind over the heads of hundreds of undead, their rotted hands thrust skyward, jostling each other as they clawed ineffectually up at the passing shadow. Up ahead at the junction, the three-foot high letters proclaimed the entrance to the swimming complex. A suited figure swayed slightly as he straddled the arched crown of the lowercase 's', his skeletal wings threatening to upset his balance and send him toppling into the moaning horde below. Flying on a collision course, Faceless arced sharply out of the way as Nothing unfolded his wings with a death-rattle, the burst of bones knocking him off his perch. Fleshless wings stretched and snapped to raise the reaper as it banked, cleaving off a few unfortunate heads as he unconcernedly extracted his scythe and climbed after Vyrm'n.
The Faceless could've snarled with frustration as Nothing pursued her, reaper blade keening with the promise to seize the basest part of her and shatter it to pieces. Vyrm'n had the speed, but neither the agility or sense of cunning at the moment to outmaneuver her mindless, methodical foe. The pair arced and weaved above the upturned, putrefied faces, the Faceless often killing gravity to narrowly avoid the leisurely cleave of a swinging scythe. Conscience's rasping at the inside of her brain, commanding the foe be struck down, torn apart; the shadow swooped lower until she could feel the bloodied, necrotic fingers scraping at the pitch. The suited skull followed with a shuddering, sighing beat of his wings, closing the gap. Vyrm'n crashed atop several more zombies, spurting rotten, mushed innards from the horned, now-inverted helm and black armour of a knight missing both hands and one arm, but dragged herself sharply toward the oncoming reaper's direction instead of letting herself skid back in the direction of the theatre.
Black matter coiling like a spring to provide the necessary thrust, Vyrm'n leapt as Nothing brandished his scythe and prepared to strike. The pair collided, shadow streaking upwards as she rammed the angel of death into the fluorescent lights above, grimly satisfied with the crunch of bone and shimmer of falling glass. Backing away from the keening scythe, the shadow ducked back, then plummeted after the broken reaper as he fell bodily into the horde; comet twisting upon itself, the tip sharpening, coiling, into a massive black arrow -
Vyrm'n uncoiled from the mangled remains of Nothing, rising up to survey the horde. Somehow, she wasn't quite as towering as she used to be, but Magog's ravaging punch had taken a lot out of the Faceless. A spine accelerated out and impaled a white-haired girl with her jaw torn off; a sick gurgle that could well have been relief forced its way out and around the spike before Vyrm'n tossed the lifeless remnants into the crowd. Whatever grip Vyrm'n had on the meagre scrap of reality Conscience felt she was fit to hear, it was battling furiously within against brutal, callous, desolation - and its sidekick panic.
Too many the strong ones the ones they aren't human why are they here why are there so many The core of death, just for a split second, let the noise of the world rush forward. The assault nearly liquefied Vyrm'n out of cohesion on the spot, before it wrenched it back to the lowest whisper. Can you recover lost mass, Faceless?
Shaken, she whimpered; it can be done I don't know it doesn't like to listen it doesn't like me listening it needs telling so much telling but I don't want to speak- a black snarl, and another burst of reality, so cacophonous as to be blinding, but forcing the Faceless into slightly more coherence -the mill maybe it had a way of singing that it didn't care about who commanded up and where
A final pulse, this one gentler, and fading to a manageable level atomic vision. The zombies, having stripped clean their slaughtered compatriots, turned and advanced on the trembling Faceless. Take it out on the horde, Vyrm'n. I will find you another mill.
Vyrm'n flew near-blind over the heads of hundreds of undead, their rotted hands thrust skyward, jostling each other as they clawed ineffectually up at the passing shadow. Up ahead at the junction, the three-foot high letters proclaimed the entrance to the swimming complex. A suited figure swayed slightly as he straddled the arched crown of the lowercase 's', his skeletal wings threatening to upset his balance and send him toppling into the moaning horde below. Flying on a collision course, Faceless arced sharply out of the way as Nothing unfolded his wings with a death-rattle, the burst of bones knocking him off his perch. Fleshless wings stretched and snapped to raise the reaper as it banked, cleaving off a few unfortunate heads as he unconcernedly extracted his scythe and climbed after Vyrm'n.
The Faceless could've snarled with frustration as Nothing pursued her, reaper blade keening with the promise to seize the basest part of her and shatter it to pieces. Vyrm'n had the speed, but neither the agility or sense of cunning at the moment to outmaneuver her mindless, methodical foe. The pair arced and weaved above the upturned, putrefied faces, the Faceless often killing gravity to narrowly avoid the leisurely cleave of a swinging scythe. Conscience's rasping at the inside of her brain, commanding the foe be struck down, torn apart; the shadow swooped lower until she could feel the bloodied, necrotic fingers scraping at the pitch. The suited skull followed with a shuddering, sighing beat of his wings, closing the gap. Vyrm'n crashed atop several more zombies, spurting rotten, mushed innards from the horned, now-inverted helm and black armour of a knight missing both hands and one arm, but dragged herself sharply toward the oncoming reaper's direction instead of letting herself skid back in the direction of the theatre.
Black matter coiling like a spring to provide the necessary thrust, Vyrm'n leapt as Nothing brandished his scythe and prepared to strike. The pair collided, shadow streaking upwards as she rammed the angel of death into the fluorescent lights above, grimly satisfied with the crunch of bone and shimmer of falling glass. Backing away from the keening scythe, the shadow ducked back, then plummeted after the broken reaper as he fell bodily into the horde; comet twisting upon itself, the tip sharpening, coiling, into a massive black arrow -
Vyrm'n uncoiled from the mangled remains of Nothing, rising up to survey the horde. Somehow, she wasn't quite as towering as she used to be, but Magog's ravaging punch had taken a lot out of the Faceless. A spine accelerated out and impaled a white-haired girl with her jaw torn off; a sick gurgle that could well have been relief forced its way out and around the spike before Vyrm'n tossed the lifeless remnants into the crowd. Whatever grip Vyrm'n had on the meagre scrap of reality Conscience felt she was fit to hear, it was battling furiously within against brutal, callous, desolation - and its sidekick panic.
Too many the strong ones the ones they aren't human why are they here why are there so many The core of death, just for a split second, let the noise of the world rush forward. The assault nearly liquefied Vyrm'n out of cohesion on the spot, before it wrenched it back to the lowest whisper. Can you recover lost mass, Faceless?
Shaken, she whimpered; it can be done I don't know it doesn't like to listen it doesn't like me listening it needs telling so much telling but I don't want to speak- a black snarl, and another burst of reality, so cacophonous as to be blinding, but forcing the Faceless into slightly more coherence -the mill maybe it had a way of singing that it didn't care about who commanded up and where
A final pulse, this one gentler, and fading to a manageable level atomic vision. The zombies, having stripped clean their slaughtered compatriots, turned and advanced on the trembling Faceless. Take it out on the horde, Vyrm'n. I will find you another mill.
peace to the unsung peace to the martyrs | i'm johnny rotten appleseed
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow
clouds is shaky love | broke as hell but i got a bunch of ringtones
eyes blood red bruise aubergine | Sue took something now Sue doesn't sleep | saint average, day in the life of
woke up in the noon smelling doom and death | out the house, great outdoors
staying warm in arctic blizzard | that's my battle 'til I get inanimate | still up in the same clothes living like a gameshow