Landfall (Open RP)

Roleplay locations.
User avatar
Drake
Jr. Member
Posts: 197
Joined: Mon May 14, 2018 11:37 pm
Gender: Male
Location: Yes
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Drake » Mon Jul 23, 2018 1:17 am

A humongous figure floating above the sky, a gigantic distraction to prevent a massively unfair clash, even though his partner didn't quite seem as incapable of fending the other group by himself. "Meli will probably cry if he finds out about this, hehehahahahaha. I get why he seems to enjoy this fucking body so much." Qaleroth mused, a lonesome figure from within its very obnoxious creation, a proud father carried through the skies by what would seem like a siamese quadruplets miscarriage shaped as something remotely close to a helicopter. As any decent father, Qaleroth was rather overprotective, his desire to witness the amount of wreckage his 'offspring' could generate was unnaturally high. Curiosity rattled, his fun trip towards such a serious clash between patriotism and space politics only got better and better.

People looked like ants from up there, even though they were already squashable enough, small masses of meat and bone, it was amusing seeing them betray themselves, withhold some pathetic ideal of justice for their own selfish motives, set ablaze those figures many would deem pure of heart. His mischief could be quite stupid, interfering directly instead of toying with both sides, striking deals with losers, but those petty acts filled the demon's mind with delight. What didn't, however, was the bright colored flash of carmine coming his way. If he had to bet, the one branded man didn't fall asleep. Actually, his purity could resist his flames tremendously well, which only made it all the more worthwhile to be there.

But now was not the time for gratitude.

Almost as if shielding the chopper itself, Qaleroth extended his control to the outside, focus on the enormous blast coming their way. An intriguing power, one that could bring more destruction than previously expected. As the ray well-nigh touched his helicopter, the hellish skull would use his own powers to dissipate the concentrated heat at the surface of his vehicle, not fully, yet sufficiently so it wouldn't tear through what he had to scheme. It was a novel idea, he wouldn't let it be annihilated prior to seeing it in action.

Regardless, an impact could be felt as a hole through its rock-like carcass opened up, those psychic yells only increasing in potency. Words could be made out now. Cries for help, pleads, muttered promises. The agony, though, was the worse of everything. It could be almost palpable, those terrible screams. Many would say it was a treacherous trick of the demon before them, but those were human beings tortured and morphed into a nefarious being, could it really mean nothing but a demonic trick?

The answer, though, would forever be lost within Qaleroth's mind. Finding it out, after all, was part of the delectable joy.

Dust rose, the scent of burnt landscape filled the nostrils of those present, ashes tingling its insides. "HAHAHAHA, VERY GOOD, VEEEEEEERY GOOD!" The strident voice reverberated, slapping the obscure interior of his own creation. Virtually at the same time, the eerily-designed creature blasted forth, its weapons now firing burts imbued with flames, a barrage of bullets raining everywhere. Other military vehicles, heroes, even the one Qaleroth possibly craved to aid was not safe from the possibility of a smearing hit.

Speaking of which, his presence had been somewhat... lacking.

"Ohoho, there you are, huh?" A rethorical whisper as he climbed outside his hell-icopter, chain in hand. "I won't steal your show now, that would make me a bad sidekick, right?" Qaleroth snickered, his chains shooting forth as he leapt away from the chopper. Aiming for the one who just released such devastating assault, his sole purpose was to strain him of movement, or, at least, distract him long enough for the sneaky Moustache Man to deliver his own blow.
Drake was feeling just fine again today.

User avatar
Concord
Newbie
Posts: 77
Joined: Sat May 26, 2018 5:50 am
Gender: Eldritch Abomination
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Concord » Mon Jul 23, 2018 3:29 am

Cutters of raw heat eviscerated the landscape as Concord let out a furious display of force. Beams seared through concrete and reinvigorated the already raging fire that consumed the surrounding Washington streets. In the center of the inferno stood Concord, the catalyst for the destruction powered by the own heat he was radiating and amplifying it even farther. He glared at the abomination in front of him watching as it weathered the heat he was projecting, his wrath rising at a speed only comparable to the increase in strength in his lasers.

As the deformed helicopter unloaded on him and those who were around him he only turned the heat up more. He would not let this demon torment anyone else, if he wanted to get to them Concord demanded his attention first. The bullets attempted to fly through the heat and were instead turned read hot. Not enough. The closer they got to the heat they began to melt down even farther until most had been reduced midflight to slag. More. With one last blast, he increased both the width and the intensity of his constant beam causing the molten bullets to evaporate. He couldn't get all of them, he was sure of that, but the overwhelming majority of the bullets had been utterly neutralized. That much heat would also cause the gunpowder in whatever unfired bullets the helicopter still had to detonate, something he was hoping would rip the monster apart from the inside out. However that much power over such a wide area was taken, even on the adrenaline pumped hero. The beam finally cut off, leaving Concord standing on the scorched earth his mask discarded next to him.

Noel took a deep stabilizing breath, he began to look back to confirm that both the girl and the Geist had survived the onslaught. However, before he could the demon arose from his vehicle and forced him to keep his attention in front of him. His eyes drifted towards the chain the infernal skeleton was wielding prepared to move at the slightest bit of movement. Reacting as the demon's hand moved to hurl the chain Noel swayed to the left, letting the attack whiz past him. The demon had thrown it while Noel had him in clear view, dodging it was fairly simple. Although he didn't have the heat left to counterattack, it would have to be up to the others to finish him off. Just need a bit more heat, then I can finish thi-

If one was lucky they'd never know the indescribable sound of flesh being reaved as a fist moving at speeds comparable to sound ripped through a man. The fracturing sound as it glided through his spine without an ounce of resistance. The bones snapped and ligaments tore instantaneously as Cyrolos sought to shove it ever farther, and farther it went. Tearing apart his abdomen and obliterating internal organs as it sundered everything in its way. Until it finally could go no further as it ruptured through his flesh and emerged from the other side. While the slight move he'd made to dodge the chain had stopped the fist from rending his heart, the blow struck true. In far less then a second the attack had blown a hole through Noel, destroying everything in its wake.

The event so fast and the shock so great that Noel himself struggled to comprehend the situation. His mouth twitched open as he attempted to speak, yet no voice exited his throat. Instead, there was only a weak gargle, as his body could only attempt to dispell the blood rapidly pooling in his lungs unable to summon the strength to even cough it out. His body began to go limp as he slid forward, off the man's extended forearm and towards the ground. As soon as he lost the support of the man's arm Noel's body collapsed into a heap on the floor. His consciousness rapidly fading as his body lost liters of blood. His lower half began to twitch as the nerve endings began to fire, the fist severing the connection between everything below his waist and his spine.

Hovering on death's door Noel laid upon the scorched wasteland of his creation. As the realization of his life's end began to finally set upon the hero all he tried to resist it. However in his bleeding shell of a body, he couldn't even speak, let along move. His eyes began to darken, as his thoughts began to fade. His mind not on his approaching death, but the change he failed to create. His will to save to world never fading even once. As he bled on the streets unable to save his city, failing to stop either of the men, unable to see the face of the man who struck him, his determination ceased to fade. His last thoughts traveling back to the conversation in the Cold Valley, where he'd told the Geist he'd fight until his body would carry him no more. However, not here, not like this, the will of one refused to die.

His mouth cracked open as a waft of cold seeped through, freezing the blood pooling around him. The cold spreading throughout him as he heart began to slow. The blood in his veins began to thicken as a thin layer of ice began to cover his body. His internal temperature plummeted, as his life signs fell with it. In a last ditch effort to save himself, Noel brought himself in the range of hypothermic circulatory arrest. His heart stopped dead, all brain activity ended with it. Even under ideal circumstances, this could only buy one an hour, Noel had given himself far less. Yet there was nothing more that he could do, his life was no longer in his hands. Determination along could not revert the induced death, for now, all Noel could do was hope.

User avatar
Magnusson
Member
Posts: 371
Joined: Sat May 26, 2018 2:28 am
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Magnusson » Mon Jul 23, 2018 4:23 am


Teja wrote:"Go. I'll keep her safe. You've got a better shot at taking him down. Keeping you down here on bodyguard duty weakens the defense force's abilities."
Scorched yet unbowed, he rose to the sound of a newcomer's terse but protective tones. A woman. Her flowing green hair was striking, as was her metahuman talent currently on display. Steam curled from his shoulders as he nodded at her, not bothering to question her presence; she would play her natural role, watching the brash child, while he fulfilled his: putting an end to this ongoing disaster, even if it killed him.

Pain clouded his vision, his senses aflame. Memories of a thousand wounds spilled red through his mind, with a recent near-fatal one in particular standing out...he'd been battered and bruised, but he still needed to fight. Trusting that the girl was safe under the care of the authoritative woman, he spun back to Concord just in time to see him fall. Blood spattered to the ground, and his killer floated behind.

Weltgeist's jaw fell open in rage, a bear's roar exploding from his mouth as he leaped to avenge the first man in millennia who had kindled within him a fighting spirit. If Noel Cross were to die, it would not be in vain. This monster would be destroyed. If Concord fell facing chaos, he would have no nobler death. The World-Forge would be his witness.

With the precision of a primordial warrior, he poured his strength and wrath into a strike he felt would crack the Earth itself, bringing Erujaorn's eternal edge to bear on Cyrolus' outstretched arm, aiming to sever it with one fell swoop. The second attack would be to swing the axe upward, aiming to cleave the hovering murderer's head in twain from his chin to his hairline. Lightning arced from the blade, unrestrained, powerful. This fight was necessary, and for all his misgivings about returning to his old life, the Oaken God burned now with conviction, in every fiber of his being.

There would be justice.


Image


Last edited by Magnusson on Mon Jul 23, 2018 4:50 am, edited 4 times in total.

User avatar
Atom
Jr. Member
Posts: 132
Joined: Thu Jul 12, 2018 2:04 am
Gender: Male
Location: Promethean Technologies, L.A.
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Atom » Mon Jul 23, 2018 4:24 am

The backhand connected in full force, cracking the visor of the ASAPS even further and granting Mitchell extensive head trauma. The world spiraled— no, he was spiraling, and a moment later the dull sensation of colliding with the ground washed over his body.

Ringing.

His ears felt wet. The HUD visor flashed red with various notifications— WARNING, EXTENSIVE CONCUSSION, WARNING, TRAUMA DETECTED— and the consistent beeping within the suit’s helmet had been droned out by the piercing whine that rolled throughout his head. Thoughts flashed through his mind. I have to keep delaying. I have to wait for Nicolas. I have to keep delaying.

Mitchell pulled himself to his knees, bracing his palms against the smoking ground as he suppressed a gag. The nausea that followed his headache was practically debilitating— but still, he pressed himself to move forward. He was only a man in a suit. No healing. No coming back. He had to make these next few hits count, or God help him, his next appearance in the news would be a fuckin’ obituary. The medical countermeasures within his suit went to work, currently attempting to help him regain what lucidity he had lost from the multipls hits to the head. Note to self— strengthen the helmet, and fire everyone on the research team that helped design this fucking suit.

Up ahead, beams of light still flashed as Washington was engulfed with a layer of smoke. The fog of war clouded around the monument as smoke drifted to the heavens, blotting out the sun and its orange light before engulfing the burning lawn in a degree of shade. A man was producing the beams— he recognized him from somewhere, the where being lost upon him. I have to delay.

The wings from the ASAPS extended as Mitchell flew towards Cyrolus, who by now had approached the distracted hero Stervos had pseudo-recognized. He shrunk himself to move faster— instantly, the scene before him shifted in perspective as time appeared to slow down.

The pull-back of an arm. The follow-through of a fist. A horrible sound— one that Mitchell would not forget for a very long time as the alien’s hand pushed through Concord’s chest like a hole-puncher, emerging from the other side a crimson-stained mess.

At the sight, Mitchell resized and halted in his glide before falling to his feet upon the ground. He stifled a short gasp at the sight, blinking hard to help steady his vision.

”Oh... fucking Christ.

Atom had failed. He couldn’t keep Cyrolus occupied. The warlord had gotten away— and now? A man lay before him, dead on the ground because of his mistake, his lack of judgement.

Balling his fists and wordlessly extending his wings, Mitchell shot forward and resized himself to smaller dimensions, cruising at the speed of a bullet as he wound up a punch and threw it with what remaining strength he possessed, hoping to connect his fist directly with the man’s nose— at the very least, stumbling the alien backwards from the force, potentially breaking his nose due to the proportional increase in Stervos’ strength.

User avatar
Mach2
Member
Posts: 304
Joined: Fri Sep 08, 2017 5:58 pm
Location: Frozen wastes
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Mach2 » Mon Jul 23, 2018 6:03 pm

The blast of red energy seemed to last an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than seconds in actuality. The light was bright enough to pierce through her tightly shut eyelids. And with the light, the screaming voices of the damned seemed to increase in volume. She moved to cover her ears, forgetting that she was still wearing her helmet. And the voices seemed just as much to be in her own head as they did in the air around her. She had no choice but to wait it out. Finally, the light faded away, and the pained screams quieted to a barely-tolerable volume.

Tremor opened her eyes. Another woman was there now, taking over the task of shielding her, and commanding the Forge to go and join the fight. He acquiesced, and she set up a new shield - this one made of metallic plates linked together with crackling lightning. "Let me know when you're spent," she instructed Tremor, not letting her eyes stray from the battle in front of them, "I'll see if I can pull you back to the evac zone."

Tremor nodded, grateful. "I'm not done yet," she answered, surprised at the determination in her own voice. She would keep fighting, but at least now the option existed to retreat safely.

She turned her focus back to the fight. The helicopter still streaked across the sky, the hero responsible for the blast of energy stood on the ground, and headed towards him...She saw what was going to happen a fraction of a second before fist met flesh. "LOOK OUT!" Tremor shrieked.

Her voice was inhumanly loud. Loud enough to leave a ringing in her own ears - which mercifully blocked out the horrific noise of tearing flesh and shattering spine. Her warning would reach the ears of everyone in the immediate vicinity, and for several blocks around, but it would reach them too late for anything to be done.

She was shocked. But instead of freezing her in place, like the sight of the helicopter or the man torn in half at the start of this whole mess, it spurred her to action. Before Concord's body had even hit the ground, she was sprinting. Tremor left the safety of the protective shield without so much as a moment's hesitation.

The Forge was already moving to strike, and she was hot on his heels. His rage-filled yell reached her ears and struck her in the heart. She didn't wait to see if his weapon struck true. She focused as she ran, willing a bubble of silence to form around her and Weltgeist, willing the air still and motionless. It wouldn't protect them completely from what she was about to do, but it would help. As soon as she got close, Tremor swung both arms, clapping her hands together with as much force as she could muster, creating a devastating blast. This had to end.

A shockwave echoed through the grounds of the DC Monument, with the volume of a sonic boom and the force of a bomb detonating. Those at the epicentre - Tremor, Weltgeist, the Atom, Concord's lifeless body, and Cyrolus - would feel its impact most intensely. But it would extend for a radius of one hundred feet. The upper reaches of the shockwave might even make it as far as the helicopters circling through the air.

For Tremor, the world had faded to a dull grey as the impact knocked her almost entirely unconscious. Her body was thrown backwards by the blast, in the same direction she had run from, and tumbled to the ground a few yards in front of Capacitor's shield.

User avatar
Azra
Bronze
Posts: 1678
Joined: Tue Mar 27, 2018 5:53 pm
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Azra » Tue Jul 24, 2018 1:18 am

Concord wrote:
Mon Jul 23, 2018 3:29 am
It was unsettling how almost peaceful it was for the ghost, Azra moved for a time amongst debris and that was all. She remembered this one time when she was hiking and a landslide had ensnared a few animals and a park ranger. With an ability to move through almost any matter Alezra was able to drag them free from the crushing forces upon them. With some help of the ranger's own experience the pair was able to help him and most of the animals that'd been injured. It only could go so far of course some wounds went beyond ones ability to take care of especially in an instant where the window of time was so small. They at least deserved a grave though and care when possible. A monster's carcass could sit beneath the sun to rot she didn't mind the ashen haired huntress however thought just about anything else deserved at least a burial however. So amongst a section of the White House was a ghostly vissage.

Bodies some dead and many broken were dragged free from the debris to what bit of medical staff and security was rushing to the area. Azra found though that even those who were fine however were wincing from a pain. Some who clung to religion clutched pendants of faith and begged. The malicious fire in the background and whatever devil caused it was a haunting entity even from over here. Alezra feared it might disturb ones ability to tend to the wounded, medics struggling to do their jobs beneath the pressure of some psychic despair. She herself however was largely devoid of senses at the time.

She could see and feel the various breezes of high speed movement and helicopter blades the changes as bullets raced by. There was a similar breeze as those of bullets though she could feel but closer. Whatever had shrunken the first opponent and said foe perhaps? A theory that was somewhat confirmed with the kick of debris grass and dirt somewhere in the yard where nothing else was. It was easy to miss amongst the cacophony of hell and gunfire, or when having a front seat to a theatric battle. When intangible though there was no sound and she was more amongst fallen walls and at the detour site of the destructive tourist. It managed to catch her attention, then the figure appeared again. The displacement of air while regrouping was felt before the blood stained terror could be seen for the ghost.

He rushed off towards the large beam of energy a scarlet tear on the horizon. It didn't seem to dip into the stratosphere or anything like Azra's imaginative mind liked to think it ought to. The devilish terror combatting the heat in some way, it was chaotic and yet beautiful. It was also a giant opening to ones back to a rushing terror. She was moving before her eyes had really even deciphered what was happening or mind what she was doing. She wasn't fast enough to intervene a fact begrudgingly known, only able to move as quick as the winds from the helicopter blades. A hero had to do something though and so in a blur she'd been rushing to the scene. There should have been a scream she felt, some despair from a victim to haunt her nightmares later she felt. She could of sworn there was some moist crunch that should have made her squirm and flinch. None was found though, it was all so hauntingly quiet getting close to the event. Everything she felt on the wind and that her eyes saw told her of some horror and yet a sensory deprivation was there. Somewhere in all the unsettling atmosphere however was also a clarity as a body hit the surface with a large opening in the chest.

The air was slower near him, cold unnaturally so. He was doing something to try and keep alive, it was just to try and secure ones own survivability but there was a fight there. A skeleton assailant a previously micro sized armor, a chiseled chest of some nordsman or something, and someone with a helmet. It was all converging around each other deciphering it was difficult, and contributing to the attack or defense likely improbable. There was one thing Azra felt confident she could do however at the moment. Being as quick as the wind and no physical form to disrupt anyone's action she looked to pick up a fallen hero. She could drag him by a collar as easily as anywhere else, and do so without further disruption as she and what she touched was almost static and untouched. With any luck the ghost could set the wounded somewhere with actual doctors who could help. At least a good man should be off the battlefield and able to be given s burial rather then be trampled and rag dolled by a metahuman collision.

User avatar
illirica
Sandbox Mod
Posts: 4894
Joined: Sat Mar 24, 2018 4:02 pm
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by illirica » Tue Jul 24, 2018 2:07 pm

In the heavy air, a man met his end.

It wasn't the first time Capacitor had seen a gruesome attack, or a violent death. It wouldn't be the last, either. People would say it didn't get easier. They lied, though. A thunderous fist crunched through a man's chest, and she barely even reacted other than to check the status of the person she was protecting.

The status of the person she was protecting was... not good. Her "LOOK OUT!" reverberated through the city, ear-piercing. Too late, though. Too late to stop anything, too late to do anything but draw attention to the spectacle. The girl ran - not away, but towards the scene, forgoing safety for the ideal of heroism. Teja thought about trying to stop her, but refrained. The girl had to make her own choice about that... Teja knew that. Sometimes the most important thing was being able to make your own decisions.

Teja didn't often have the opportunity to exercise self-directives. There were always orders - Teja was in charge of working out the little details, making the little things happen... but above it all, there was always a framework. Sometimes she hated the heroes and all the chaos they represented... other times she envied their freedom.

Not enough to run after it, though. Capacitor had put on her chains willingly, to bring freedom to others. She didn't regret that decision. The girl ran up to the hero who had been there to protect her from the start, and Teja smiled slightly. Battlefields built trust. She could trust as well. She spread the panels, not a shield for herself, but a swirling set of plates, chained by electricity and magnetism, prepared to absorb shock when it came. She stretched their diameter, as much as she could, close to the groud - she couldn't protect everything, but she could contain things, somewhat.

The girl detonated herself, and Capacitor drove her framework into the ground as the ripples traveled outward, fighting back against the earthquake that shook the city. Keep it contained. The chains she'd created absorbed some of the force. It wouldn't stop everything, but it would mitigate the destruction. Sometimes, that was all that she could do. The blast traveled outwards, returning the girl as the shockwave fell away.

Capacitor released her hold on the armor plates, leaving them where they were. She could recover them later, but doing so meant expending energy, and absorbing that much of the blast had put a significant dent in her reserves. She moved to the girl, thankfully not dead. Kids that young shouldn't die like that. That didn't mean, of course, that it didn't happen. Only that she regretted it when it did. She knelt, and glanced down at the kid. Not yet unconscious, but likely she would be soon.

"That's enough," she said quietly, "You did well." That might have been a lie, Teja didn't know, but if it was, it was one the girl needed to hear. "Let's get you out of here. Sometimes you get to save the day..." Her green-eyed gaze took in the scene around them, blood and death and destruction. "...And sometimes you have to wait and save tomorrow."

User avatar
Terminus
Member
Posts: 284
Joined: Mon Jul 16, 2018 12:38 am
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Terminus » Tue Jul 24, 2018 4:10 pm

Pendragon was knocked back by the resounding blast that Tremor had provided, but even disoriented as he was, it was impossible to miss what had happened to Concord. He looked between Cyrolus and the downed hero, being 'rescued' by some well-meaning teen meta. For a moment, he hovered there, frozen. Decision paralysis. Finally, he forced himself to make a choice.

The Terminus descended, touching down next to Azra, holding Concord's three-quarters-dead body. Silently, he took the body, and laid it down on the ground. "The doctors won't be able to help him," he said, half-breathlessly, "but I think I can." At the same time as he was speaking, the armor projected a force-field around them, covering but a few scant feet of space. It was touch enough to absorb the impact of bullets, but if Cyrolus decided he wanted to finish the job, there'd be little it could do to stop him. It also had the effect of dulling the noise of hte ongoing conflict, allowing the pilot to focus.

Nicolas had never performed first aid before. However, what knowledge he did have, the armor would be able to supplement. First thing's first- stop the bleeding, cauterize the wound. A tiny beam fired from the tip of the armor's finger, and traced the sides of Cross' still-bleeding injury. The Terminus was in full control, for that moment, its precision able to do a better job that Pendragon alone could.

Next, the Mechanist Monk pressed his armored hand to Concord's chest, and willed the excess nanotech in the suit to flow into the hero's broken body. It would seal the wound, and begin to patch up the injuries, replacing parts of shattered bones and ruptured organs. Not a permanent fix, but it would essentially make him 'whole,' if clinically dead and comatose.

Once it was complete, Nicolas paused, mind racing. The nanotech organ transplant had been his idea, but now more traditional methods would be necessary, and he had little idea how to go about using them. With a thought, the armor downloaded about a dozen tutorials into his brain. The sudden influx of information was enough to make his head spin, but he forced himself to focus. This man's life is in your hands, Pendragon. Don't fuck it up.

A hypodermic needle manifested on the back of the right hand of the Terminus, and rapidly filled with blood. Though Nicolas hadn't felt it drained, he knew it was his. Thank fuck I'm a universal donor, I guess. The information he'd main-lined had informed him where to inject the transfusion- right around the heart. He did so without a second thought.

Okay, Pendragon thought shakily. Moment of truth. The palms of his armor's hands flattened, and a charge flowed through them. His fingers shook under the armor, but gave no indication to anyone else. He rubbed his palms together, charging the defibrillator paddles, until they were at the correct charge, before shouting "Clear!"

Nicolas pressed his hands to Concord's chest, with the intent of re-starting the fallen hero's heart, before it was too late.

User avatar
Cyrolus
Newbie
Posts: 19
Joined: Thu Jun 14, 2018 2:43 am
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Cyrolus » Tue Jul 24, 2018 6:30 pm

The missile whizzed through the air like a bat out of hell with the intent of striking the interstellar warlord and had this been his first large scale brawl he would've fallen victim to its lethal effects. However, Cyrolus's mind and skill had been forged in the fires of extinction which gave him an edge against such straightforward strikes. His thick neck muscles snapped backwards letting the rocket fly just beneath his chin while his momentum carried him forwards towards his primary target.

Like a blade through a watermelon his hand erupted from the front of Concord allowing a moment for small beads of crimson to drip from his fingertips. His tree trunk like arm now fully extended through the body of one of earths defenders who fell just like all the others slain before him. Cyrolus's expression didn't change; there was no smile of victory or demeaning words spoken to a fallen enemy. Not out of respect but, rather this wasn't the time to gloat about his victory. One soldier killed among a whole army wasn't something to cheer for. So he cast Concords body aside as if it were nothing more than a crumpled up piece of paper before continuing his onslaught. Perhaps now Chevron would show up or maybe he would have to kill a few more before his fellow Vaxian decided to arrive.

Then came the sudden rush of raw anger at the sight of a fallen comrade. All of them seemed to have felt the loss in a way that ignited their fighting spirit far beyond what it had been before. They had all felt his strength, seen his strength, and yet for some reason this time was different than the last. He could hear the roar of the World Forge shake the very molecules of air floating around him, the roar of a combatant who had also seen many conflicts. The tyrants hands would shift becoming more and more dense while he readied himself to catch the axe. His facial expression shifted slightly, the corner of his mouth raising just enough to be called a smirk.

His hands swiftly sung upwards as the axe blade descended, open palms ready to slam down on the metal edge of the blade, when CCCRRRAAAACCCKKKK He felt his head snap to the left, his eyes looking in the direction of the blow as his head spun. The machine that had changed his size before hovered with an outstretched fist that impacted like a wrecking ball. The punch itself would do little more than fracture his nose in terms of damage however, with only his hands becoming more dense it was still enough to throw his body off balance.

While the punch wouldn't break anything the humming edge of Weltgeist's blade would, the pain was non-existent at first. His eyes growing wide as they gazed upon his wounded arm falling to the ground. Time seemed to slow for just a moment, just long enough for everything to register within his mind, and then the pain rushed through him. The wound was the first of its kind he had ever suffered, an arm lopped off in a single blow by something he now understood was far from human. He had seen the strength of humans and knew he could overcome it however, this being was far beyond that. As the axe blade swung upwards Cyrolus pushed off the ground with his front foot stepping back only enough to avoid having his entire head cleaved in two, instead his vision changed with everything seeming farther away than it had once been. Now his body was off balance, his mind was being pumped full of chemicals to help him focus despite the pain, and it all culminated into making the The Extraterrestrial Exterminator vulnerable to what could only be dubbed the final blow in this onslaught of attacks.

He felt his body sent flying backwards, thrown off balance by some sort of eruption that launched him through the air. His whole body rapidly shifted until it was heavy enough for gravity to overpower the shock wave causing him to slam into and rupture the earth below. He climbed to his feet, thick deep crimson fluid dripped from his severed arm and ran down his face from his now wounded eye. He let loose a furious roar before rushing forwards once more, this time to end things permanently.

User avatar
Magnusson
Member
Posts: 371
Joined: Sat May 26, 2018 2:28 am
Contact:

Re: Landfall (Open RP)

Post by Magnusson » Tue Jul 24, 2018 7:13 pm


Gods, he was young once. He felt his age in every movement, his arm threatening failure every time he swung his axe. They'd struck true, all of them, bombarding the Interplanetary Terror with an onslaught of attacks. From his side, the girl he'd protected had erupted, a shockwave of concussive force blowing out the Forge's right eardrum in its power. The flurry of strikes happened too fast to process; an armored man grew from nowhere to attack, stunning the brutish killer long enough for Weltgeist's axe to tear through his arm, which fell to the ground.

Thick alien blood soaked into the grass, mingling with that of the Eldest. The Geist fell to a knee, the pain from his wounds bubbling up inside of him. Stabbed, burnt, thrown, and deafened, he struggled to keep his balance as the enemy collected himself. Even grievously wounded, he still lashed out; what drove his perseverance? What was the source of this fortitude? In truth...the Forge did not care to know. All that mattered was putting an end to his threat.

But now he charged back, feet parted from the ground, rushing through the air as a bullet would towards its target. The Geist had only one retort left in his old bones - to raise his axe one last time, summoning all of his strength into a leaping answer to Cyrolus' lethal question. Heaving himself towards the incoming mammoth, the Oaken God sought to strike with the club-like knob of Erujaorn, sculpted of primordial wood. He moved to intercept Cyrolus, disregarding his pain in order to place himself between the titanic conqueror and those he sought to kill.

One final strike, before his own body would give out...perhaps for the last time. With what was left of his voice, he repeated the same thing he'd said 'fore the violence began; the same thing he would say to all evil before he died. His body cracked and faded at the extremities, but still he flew forth.

"ENOUGH!"

Image



Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: LunaHawk, Orange and 4 guests