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+--- Thread: Second Chance. (/showthread.php?tid=1350)
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Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-07-2015
Victor Wolfe could either be considered one of the luckiest or unluckiest men alive, true he had been transported to a strange and new world but Victor liked to look on the positive side. He did not have to suffer the fate that would have surely awaited him in his homeland as it was likely he would have been confused with the prince and thus tortured and publicly executed. And he did have knowledge of this world. The shadow being that summoned him even though he had not asked a single question due to being unable to even utter a word in his presence gave Victor all the information he needed to know for now.
"So according to what I would assume was the deity of this world, I am immortal, this place is a pretty sweet deal, all I need to do is keep Omni entertained and no matter how many times I get cut down, Impaled or crushed I will keep coming back !" Victor said with a chuckle.
Victor thought about one of the other things that was mentioned by Omni. Omnilium, a material so powerful that it can be used to fulfill dreams, he decided to put this idea to the test. Victor was fast and a capable technician but he had always felt that if he could muster a much more sudden burst of speed he could leave many opponents wide open and vulnerable for his more precise attacks. He thought about his desire and channelled some of his Omnilium into obtaining this new skill.
Victor felt like he had lost something and in its place gained new previously untapped potential. He decided to test this. he channelled all his thought into doing a quick burst forward and as if by pure instinct was thrust forward, it was a great feeling as due to him moving so fast for a split second it seemed like time itself was going slower. He was already thinking of ways this ability could be used to torment and kill any new opponents in this new land.
It was at this point that it hit Victor, he was not likely to be the only person that was summoned to this world and thus not the only person who could use this new way of gaining powers. If with the basic amount of Omnilium that he was given he could create an ability that was as useful as the speed bursts are to him then what could others who have been in this realm far longer than he has achieved?
"I may not be the most powerful killing machine around anymore. But this also presents new opportunities for one there is less harm in challenging people as even if they kill me I will rise again and can then work to become stronger and kill them in retaliation, I also feel something I have not felt in a long time. Anticipation! There are going to be so many people here who will be well worth the time and effort it will take to find them, introduce myself and then like any good gentleman carve open their throats with my trusty daggers, hmm who knows maybe for the first few I will just skip the formalities and get straight to the fun part."
As Victor laughed at his own ideas of how he would bring people to the brink of death only to push them over the edge he made another revelation about why he could come to love the world he is presently in.
"If I kill someone, no matter how brutally and sadistically I do it they will keep coming back again and again, this means that I can never run out of new vict.. I mean opponents to, fight and eventually kill. And for doing all of this I get a material that allows me to gain power most people would only dream about. This is a real second chance, now that I do not have to serve as a over titled body guard for a prince I can perfect my art in my own way, who knows maybe I will find people that I can share a common goal with, after all killing without a purpose is a good kick for shits and giggles, but when you have a reason for slicing your blade through the artery of someone, perhaps they are a rebel or a murderer themselves perhaps they looked at a noble the wrong way, whatever the reason having one makes that final hit all the more satisfying."
Now for a plan of action Wolfe decided that he would stay relatively central and scout out the gates he could make out on the horizon of this otherwise blank and empty area and after a while would decide what way set out, he would talk to people who approached him but keep his daggers close and an escape plan in mind incase things got ugly.
Re: Second Chance. - Okor - 05-08-2015
Okor paused for a moment, breathing in the uncomfortably pure air of the Nexus. The hourglass of infinity, constantly pouring the future onto itself, had vanished. All that was left was Okor, his ambient pestilence vanishing in this new land. Where once his very step promoted life, growing lichens and fungus under his tread, here it made no impact on the blank white slate of this new universe. He shrugged. This too shall pass. His raw red eye gazed over the horizon, seeking out a welcome variation on this uniform, disgusting purity. As he did so, Omnillium seeped from the cracks in his armour, the shimmering incandescence of the material flowing around his body, settling in the shape of a cloak. With a sudden cessation of light, the Omnillium vanished, replaced with a ratty, tan cloak. The edges were already ragged and dirty, mud, blood, and filth caking the hem. He reached up, pulling the rough cloth over the his helm, his horn finding a hole in the material, protruding from the hood. Taking a look over the surroundings once more, he set forth, the heavy tread of his boots silenced on the void of the Nexus.
How long had he been walking? The bone deserts of Hindrance seemed like a jaunty stroll to this. There, you were tested, assailed by the heat, by the Faithless, by the long walk to enlightenment. He silently chastised himself for his impudence. Patience was a virtue. When the universe itself was lost to ruin, that faithful would be there to watch it. Given the abrasive purity of the realm, stripping it to its rotting bones would be cathartic. He chuckled softly to himself. One day... One day... Across the horizon, he spotted a variation in the nothingness that defined the Nexus. A tall, slight figure, clad in metallic rings and cloth, facing away from him. How he thought it could protect him was beyond Okor. He shambled forward, his cloak shrouding his frame. To see something more than oblivion in this realm was a welcome change. He cupped his hands to his helm, and shouted at the newcomer. "Hail! May I ask your name, fellow traveler?" His voice was almost imposing itself upon reality, the tones grave and leaden. It was not the voice of a man, perhaps a man once, but now, much, much more.
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-08-2015
Victor Wolfe was still scanning the horizon he could see many gates that appeared to be portals somewhere guarded but each had their own unique design, perhaps they lead to different worlds Wolfe thought, maybe he would go to one of these worlds, he could only stand so much waste land.
Victor turned to the shouting figure behind him, the being appeared to be what in Victor's world would be known as an undead, however he had never seen an undead like this, he appeared to be somewhat of a mix between a zombie and a skeleton with his rotten form being held together by armor that appears to have been fused to his very flesh, and groups of symbiotic organisms and fungus, However many of these fungi were giving of warning colors, the colours that in nature signify poisons and disease, He wondered what could cause such a being to be able to still live and function.
The weapon carried by this creature was what appeared to be a sword infested with more of this poison, and judging by the fact he can carry the weapon and all the armor without much effort he could definitely use this weapon with a lot of force, not only would it deal major damage but it would leave the risk of infection.
The armor on this being was like no armor Victor had ever seen almost like that of a beetles it was made to be plated and by the look of it extremely durable a problem for a dagger wielder like Victor, this armour was also cracked and caked in blood and pus from battles fought in the past, this warrior was experienced in battle.
However he did one thing that prevented Victor from trying to cut him down on the spot, he announced himself before coming to close, this was what Victor considered to be pretty damn good manners from an undead and as he had been trained from a young age to do, required him to show equal etiquette, this also put Victor in a rather good mood, not only had he found out that he was now immortal but now had met someone else in what otherwise apeared to be mostly hostile wasteland, and someone with manners no less. In his previous homeland many of the residents and travelers he had met in the wastelands where criminals ruffians or rouges on the run or looking for weaken travelers to rob, petty crimes for small gains or as Vctor would say "boring people". Victor decided that rather than shouting across the wasteland perhaps attracting the attention of other unsavory characters he would close down the distance between the two.
He decided to only use about three quarters of his speed, still much faster than an average human to get within a few meters of the creature before speaking. now that he was closer he could see the full grotesque yet fascinating form of this undead being, he did have skin over his bones but that was about all, and he only possessed one blood shot eye perhaps making it difficult for him to judge distance and depth.
"Why hello there good sir my name as you requested is Victor Wolfe , ex bodyguard of a dead imperial prince and new resident of this new and wondrous world that we both appear to find ourselves in. Perhaps we could share our information to try and figure out more about this world? pooling information can have a benefit to both of our causes. Also why don't you tell me about yourself, its always a pleasure to meet new people after all and judging by that armor you are wearing the worlds we come from are very different as I have never seen craftsmanship like that. But first may I ask your name in return?" Victor Wolfe waited to hear what the creature in front of him had to say whilst trying to keep an eye on both the creature and the space around both of them. You can never be to cautious when meeting new people.
Re: Second Chance. - Okor - 05-09-2015
Okor chuckled deeply, a low rumbling sound finding its way through Victor's bones. So dreadfully impatient. It hardly seemed like the youth took a breath in that entire speech. He thought over what the whelp said, parsing through the youth's string of sound. He came across a point of contention. "Wondrous?" He spoke, lifting his arms, attempting to showcase the void surrounding them. "This is a land of stasis. Creation.... For creation's sake. Always growing, never rotting." He chuckled again, shaking his hooded helm. "Now, life without death is.... hardly life at all, is it not?" Okor's lone eye focused in on the slight youth. How had a boy been able to earn such a rank? He snorted in derision. The youth practically radiated untempered ambition. Everything about the youth suggested a spring, about to uncoil. How long had be been bound by the shackles of the Imperium? The potential for violence issued from him, like a feral wolf slipped free from the rope, searching for its captors. But of course, they were not to be found in this hellish place. After what seemed like a century of pondering, Okor began to speak again. "Nonetheless..." Okor wheezed in a breath of air, the life-giving substance polluted the moment it was sucked into his multilung. He lowered his helmed face, gazing into the young man's eyes with his single, consuming orb. "I am Okor Paleblood, son of the blessed fourteenth legion. I have left my.... Tread upon a thousand worlds, and helped raise an Empire spanning a million stars. I intend to watch it crumble, and to put my blade through the heart of its... God Emperor." Okor chuckled once more, bringing himself to his full three meters. "But of course, where are my.... Manners? What do you make of this.... Realm?"
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-09-2015
Victor thought deeply about the wise words spoken by this being, after taking some time to organise his answer in his head, after a brief pause he answered calmly. " I agree, life without death, does become pointless however, death does not lose meaning just because it is not permanent. There are surely still consequences, for example the pain caused as a blade rips through your body, or the shame of being utterly in the power of another person. It seems that our philosophies are not as far apart as i thought" Victor smiled slightly.
"You see I put all my effort into reaching as high as I could get in my society, and I did just that, I fought, trained, and worked my way through brutal training, designed to create the perfect right hand man to the future Emperor.Hundreds of candidates from all across the land, and I worked alongside them, helping them reach their full potential, and once they were as strong as I could see them getting, I murdered them in combat, Thus I surpassed them all, I reached the highest position that peasants could reach, and yet, I felt empty. I had everything a man could ever want, vast amounts of wealth, women willing to satisfy my any desire, and an elite squadron of men willing to serve my every order, even to go as far as to die for me. But there was nothing else I could achieve, yet ... I had never experienced such tedium in my life, until the moment when someone I was told to guard with my life tried to leave me for dead. As I plunged my blades into him ,and I felt his blood on my hands, I felt a feeling I had not felt in a long time... Pure satisfaction!" Victor began to laugh before he continued his monologue.
" And now that I am in this new land, I no longer have to follow the rules set my my imperial overlords, no longer do I have to hide all emotions and opinion when conversing, no longer do I have to brown nose with every minor noble just because I was born to a different family, and no longer do I have to look after a snobbish little prince who when it was all said and done, left me for dead." Victor Wolf continued to laugh maniacally at the idea of his new found power.
" You ask me my opinion on this land well here it is, this land has given me a new lease on life, I can now continue to grow stronger, gain new abilities, and increase my influence across an area that for all I know could be endless. If all we need is Omnilium to increase my power, and abilities, then I can keep increasing in power. It does not matter how ambitious I am here, as there will always be plenty of opponents to fight, surpass, and eventually kill, I will never allow myself to stagnate under someone again, if I cannot kill them, I will learn from them, but if I can surpass them I will do so. I think I know how it felt when you finally killed your own emperor." Victor Wolfe took a moment to calm himself, he still had a conversation to maintain and did not need to get too far ahead of himself, murder could wait until later, for now he needed to learn as much as he could about the world.
"Now as of what I have noticed about this world that it appears to be made up of many different worlds, as you can see in the distance all around us, are gates, they all have a unique design so my conclusion is they lead to different places. This place apears to be a place designed for introducing new people to the world, that would explain why it is so barren, I predict that most other residents will be beyond the gates. I have also noticed that we appear to gain omnilium even from doing mundane tasks, even as this conversation goes on I have felt myself gain more strength in small levels, As long as we keep the deity entertained then we keep getting stronger." Victor Wolfe now fully calm decided that he would now try and find out more about the being that was in front of him.
" So Okor Paleblood, destroyer of worlds, devastator of the star empire, and murderer of the God Emperor, what is your view on this realm?" Victor Wolfe focused on Okor listening intently
Re: Second Chance. - Okor - 05-10-2015
Okor shook his head sadly. Whelps these days. But what this callous, foolish youth was speaking... It was Anathema to his sensibilities. "I listen to.... your tale. Do me the courtesy of listening to mine. The corpse-emperor still sits upon his throne, for now. You would know this, if you had... assigned any import to my words. Now, open your ears, and... heed me. You speak of assassination and betrayal as if they were deeds of... Worth. You slew the man you swore to guard with your life, casting aside your loyalty. You killed for the sake of blood on your blades, you allowed yourself to be... molded into a pathetic example of mankind, kowtowing to every soft-skinned noble, so... weak-minded to never contemplate taking a stand." He chuckled again, the sound starting to grate on Victor's nerves. He advanced up to the bastard, looking down upon the child."We are as different as day and night.... Wolfe. I kill for my god, for my king, for the end of the long war." Okor crossed his rotten arms, layering jaundiced, taut skin over decaying ceramite. He loomed over the tangled mass of neuroses and unrestrained lusts inhabiting the painfully young man. "And you have never felt the... rush of the first kill again, have you?" Okor laughed again, his baleful red eye giving the impression he was looking several inches into Victor, probing past the mask he wore in civilization. "Every stab of your blades, the splash of... vitae, across your face. Chasing the sensation. I have... watched ten thousand marines fall to the same lure. Once, they were.... respected. Now, they dance across battlefields, covered in swatches of.... human hide, laughing as they toy with their foes. Is this your... future, Wolfe? To become a slave to your urges, abandoning yourself, burning yourself away on the pyres of....pleasure?" Okor leaned back, waiting to hear Victor's retort.
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-10-2015
Victor Wolfe almost growled at Okor, how dare he act as if he was better than him, this common soldier, acting like he was a just killer, all because he followed some god.
" Now listen here you walking corpse, you think that just because you kill in the name of a deity, it makes what you did any less morally abhorrent than what I do? I can smell the hypocrisy dripping from you, my first kill was in revenge for a friend who was murdered, and after that, I killed for my empire, would it have made me morally right if rather than that I slaughtered countless people in the name of beings that may not even exist?" Victor Wolfe snapped, he had never got along with the theologians in his own world, always finding them to repeat the same unprovable rhetoric, and interfering in court politics causing some of the largest massacres in his world's history.
" Face it, you must have realised, no matter how many people you kill, no matter how many wars you win, there will always be more. You were trained to kill, and to justify it in your mind, you convinced yourself that it was all for a greater good, I simply accepted my fate as a killing machine, and learned to love it. You are simply a mass murderer in denial!" Victor Wolfe put spite into every word he spoke whilst staring into the one eye of Okor.
" And you are wrong too, my first kill was when I was six years old, and although it did give me a rush, it was not the kill that made me feel the best, you see every kill in the training academy where I surpassed someone made me feel even better, the kill that gave me the most satisfaction however was my most recent one, the prince of my empire. I veiw killing not as a desire, but as an art, and every time I do it I feel better and better about it. and unlike the marines you watched go insane with bloodlust, I like my art, but too much exposure can numb my pleasure to it, I don't like mindless slaughter of the weak, there is no entertainment in it. That is why I only kill people that I view as worthy opponents, or people who get in the way of achieving my goals."
Victor Wolfe drew his daggers from his waist and smiled a smile full of evil intent straight at the one eye of Okor Paleblood. " Perhaps you will prove to be an even more enjoyable piece of art in my collection than any of the others, and a good way for me to start my time in the world with a bang, or you could flee, I would not pursue, Its no fun when I have to exhaust my self chasing down plebeians and common soldiers!"
Re: Second Chance. - Okor - 05-10-2015
Okor took a moment to look at the sliver of metal point itself at his eye. "Are you so weak, that you would... hurl yourself against me, simply because I offered a warning?" His eye gazed down, sizing up the whelp. "I give you my courtesy, I warn you away from the depraved path you... tread. And now, you believe yourself to be perfect, to be invincible. All you have accomplished in your short, disgraceful life is to betray your people, and to.... slay mere novices." Okor laughed again, shaking his head. "You truly do not understand what the real world is like, do you? To not see Nurgle's presence."
"In every rotting corpse, in every fly, in every leper. In every child, in every forest, in every ocean, in every beating heart. Everywhere, he exists. The universe itself will one day cease, and when it does, Nurgle will be there. When the last maggot, in the carcass of the last beast, on the last planet, orbiting the last star finally succumbs to entropy, Nurgle will be there. When reality itself falls apart, when all that is left is the primordial sludge of raw potential, he will raise it again, and we will be reborn. There will be no more war. No more pain. No more want. And until then, we will fight. We defy the doom of reality, by embracing it." Okor breathed out a palpable cloud of corruption, a fine green mist seeping from his horned helmet. "You speak of Nurgle, as if he does not hear you, his wayward child. Even in this hellish place, he... watches over us." Okor thumped his skeletal hand to his chest. "He still protects us. He still sustains us in our endless quest for vengeance. As our legs wither, we walk a thousand miles. As our flesh rots, we live eternal."
"And you still suggest I am little more than a.... murderer. I have faced Daemons, horrors from beyond our stars, the unceasing hammer of the Imperium, and worse. I have stood against... hordes of chitin and talon, tides of green muscle, and the heat of stars themselves. I have seen a hundred worlds crumble into ruin, by my hand. I have crushed the skulls of the champions of the Imperium under my boot, torn down their cathedrals with my bare hands. I fought a loyalist captain, so far removed from the gene seed of legend that I could scarcely... determine his source. For 3 days we fought atop the ruins of the citadel of Faalion III, until he could no longer stand, so fatigued from battle and disease to raise his blade. Even then, he muttered curses, decrying me. I granted him a quick death. Was that better than what you would have done, I wonder?"
"And you name yourself a... killing machine. You have sacrificed your life, for the sake of violence. Perfecting your... Art. I see what you are now. What you are is a child, playing at war. Still believing there is beauty to it, deluding yourself into believing that all there is to life, is death. You cast aside your humanity, killing for... Fun. What you are is a blind child, failing to see the universal truths of reality. Substituting them with yourself. What cannot offer you pleasure, what cannot serve you, is a toy. What you are, is a fool, believing that you can intimidate me, with all of my faith, all of my gifts, all of my ten millennia of warfare, using only a decorative piece of silverware." Okor loomed over the pathetic whelp. "I have never slain a... child. I do not intend to start this day. " Okor's eye communed a look of mirth. "Now run along, young one. Remember your... place, and strive for more."
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-10-2015
Victor Wolfe took a moment to process all that had been said and came up with his plan of action. " You make some interesting points, and I am starting to see that trying to kill each other streight of the bat would be foolish, But I can't help but feel a bit of anger towards you, i also want to test out how combat works in this world, for all we know it could be different, perhaps your armour is not as strong as it used to be, and maybe my daggers are not as dainty as you think?" Victor Wolfe Wolfe calmly and without a hint of malice spoke these next words, " How about a dual? Not to the death, just an honorable fight, once a winner has been decided we both walk away, that way we get to test our new strengths, and both get to walk away alive, there is one thing I hold higher than killing and that is keeping my word, as long as doing so will not get me killed" Victor Wolfe waited for an answer from the walking suit of armour.
Re: Second Chance. - Okor - 05-10-2015
Okor laughed, a deep bass rumbling worming its way through Victor's bones. He leaned forward again, looking down upon Victor. "Given your long history of... murder, assassination, and betrayal, I doubt your word is gold. Soft, and... as malleable as it, but hardly of value." Okor said, reflecting on the life story the youth had thrust upon him. "Nonetheless, it is.... optimal, to keep in practice." Okor flexed his shoulders, shifting the ceramite pauldrons with ease. He stepped back several paces, and placed an armoured hand on his corroded, rusted blade. "Come now, whelp. Let us see if your slivers can... match Legion Steel." Okor would be surprised if the child did not try a trick. Out here, in this void, with no authorities to rebuke him. A dagger to the throat, a knife in the eye, and who could ever know, aside from those present? The boy was like a viper, constantly tensed to strike, eternally ready to sink his fangs into soft flesh. He chuckled again at the thought. He would find none. For the youth to even think that gold and silver, of all things, could even dream of scratching a Mark III. The blades would blunt themselves after their first blow. Perhaps a sound beating would give him some facade of sanity. Okor drew the plague blade from his hip, the verdigris starting to seep pus and venom as his tongue mutilated itself, twisting and tearing in unnatural ways as he pronounced the Daemonic syllables that awakened its power.
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-10-2015
" Silvers,eh? Then you have never encountered Stygian steel, or Elysian gold, don't let the names fool you these metals are about as sturdy yet sharp as they get, in fact why don't I show you them in there combat mode. Vicot Wolfe flexed his wrist causing the gemstones in the blades to glow, this glow spread to the rest of each blade, the blades now had a solid silver and gold glow. " Now this shall be intresting, lets see how well I can do against a man who has fought countless battles in the stars. I hope you don't mind me making the first move!"
Victor Wolfe lunged at his full speed streight towards the behemoth of a corpse and colsed the distance, keeping his eyes locked with Okors as not to reveal his plan or target, before he reached the danger zone where Okor could use that massive blade to deal damage Wolfe smilled. He then activated the power he had created before this fight gaining another quick burst of speed almost telaporting him right next to Okor, he then aimed one of his blades at a gap in the giant of a mans armour, that he had seen from when they first met, meanwhile he aimed the other blade to try and slice the sword hand of Okor, if he could deactivate that wepon then he had a much higher chance of winning this dual. " Too slow old man!" Victor Wolfe said.
Re: Marine and Malcontent - Okor - 05-10-2015
Okor did not dignify Victor with a response, only chuckling once more. He drove his adamantite-clad fist into Victor's nose, creating a satisfying crunch, and driving the youth back. Blood and mucous seeped from the broken olfactory organ, as Okor swung his rusted blade towards the youth. To his credit, the child retained the presence of mind to dodge to the side, causing the blade to rip through chain mail and a layer of pectoral muscles, rather than cleaving the youth in twain. Okor circled around the reeling Victor, his eye gazing down in disappointment. "And to think, your world believed you to be.... skilled." Victor hurled himself at Okor, his glowing daggers scrabbling across ceramite, seeking an opening. A blade sunk itself through his malformed ribs, emerging covered in clear blood. his other blade, glowing golden, skittered across his gorget, unable to penetrate solid ceramite. As Okor moved to tear the youth from his body, Victor jumped away, pausing for a moment to analyze the situation before charging forward. Okor swept his blade horizontally, aiming for Victor's stomach, taking advantage of his seeming madness. Before the corroded blade kissed his flesh, Victor dropped to his knees and slid, stabbing a knife into Okor's knee, swinging around his back before assailing his joints with a fusillade of steel, needling every weak point with an inch of blade, rewarded with a small amount of pestilential vitae with every stroke. Moving as fast as he was capable, Okor spun around, only to watch Victor to leap away.
The foe was nimble, that was for sure. Any natural talent he may have possessed had been amplified tenfold by the infusion of Omnillium. He had some kind of innate skill, but he was still oh-so-foolish. He was ill-suited to combating a member of the venerable Death Guard, and it showed. His assault would have slain a lesser warrior, but against Okor, all it did was weaken himself. He was slight, thin. The toxins would slow him, propelled through his body by a redlining circulatory system, hastening his inevitable end. There was little hope for Victor. While his speed was impressive, it would fail him, simply evaporating as entropy claimed him.
"Impressive. But your method is... flawed." Okor advanced forward, hefting his rusted blade. "Every assault expends your energy. With the... rot spreading through your body, your fatigue is multiplied." He raised his plague blade towards his foe. "The way I perceive it, you have but two... choices. You can stand and fight, which you cannot afford to do. Or... You can run. I doubt I would chase. It's no... fun, chasing common murderers." Okor laughed, as his tongue tore itself apart again, as he spoke the words he heard in his rare dreams, the words of power. "DAAL'AK'ATH MEL CAENGR'ALL." As the words tore themselves free of his mouth, his hands dripped with necrotic slime, promising an unpleasant experience, to say the least. Okor spoke with a bloodied tongue, paying the price for power. "Now, show me what passes for skill amongst your misbegotten kind."
Re: Marine and Malcontent - Victor Wolfe - 05-11-2015
Victor retreated back holding his now bleeding stomach, It was harder to breath with a broken nose but thanks to the training he had taken part in as a youth he was used to it, however the wound on his stomach was another matter the sword was coated with some kind of poison, no not poison, a fast acting disease, if he was not careful it would slowly rot his body. He needed more power to beat this behemoth, and more time.
Victor thought about all the illnesses he had had in the past and how he had fought through them, he then imagined this power amplified at a higher rate and used some of his remaining omnilium to boost his healing rate beyond what it could have ever achieved. he felt like the disease was moving at a much slower rate, as his now stronger immune system fought against it, however to use this new power to its full capability he would need to make some distance between his opponent and himself, He could not use his speed busts as the rush of blood would hurt him far beyond what he could tolerate, he thought about how annoying the gravity of the situation was, he could be killed just because of lack of distance, and that was when it hit him, gravity.
He focused more of his omnium into two new powers, the ability to jump much more extreme distances to help break the restraining chains that gravity had set, and , the acrobatics required to control himself in the air, Victor jumped a few meters away to a safe distance.
He focused a large amount of his energy into healing the disease that was spreading through his body , how effective this was only time would tell but he did feel much better, now to his opponent, although he would hate to admit it, he was right, his speedy style of fighting was just exhausting him and not worth the damage, but Wolfe had one more trick up his sleeve.
He walked forward wasting no energy until he was in range of Odors sword, the corroded blade still wet with blood, and as Okor took a broad swing hoping to cleave Wolfe in two, he took a small step back, judging the blade perfectly, this was the greatest strength of Wolfe he could switch between using speed to overwhelm his opponent, but as they got used to that he would completely switch styles to a very technical no movements wasted way of fighting,
Okors swing left his under arm exposed as he over shot, this allowed Wolfe to move in and dig both of his daggers pretty deep into the flesh of the giant, before Okor could swing his sword back or punch Victor again, he removed the daggers and retreated just out of range of Okors sword, satisfied as the blood dripped from the now open wound, Okor kept swinging and thrusting his blade but it was all futile, Wolfe kept his eye on both the blade and Okor's fist calculating the perfect distance to avoid them and worm his way in to get another attack in at the arm areas, aiming for the weaker joints.
He kept this pattern until the behemoth finally caught on, Okor thrusted his blade further than normal to try and catch Wolfe out, but this was the moment Wolfe had been waiting for, he took one more step back then before leaving Okor's sword outstretched, Wolfe used this massive blade as a springboard and landed on the back of Okor Pale Blood, the back he used his newfound acrobatic mastery to stay out of reach and proceeded to dig his daggers deeper and deeper into the exposed back of the marine, targeting the exact same spot over and over, planing to rip straight through the marine, as Okor struggled Wolfe used his other dagger to stab into other gaps in the armour to hold his position, and staying at just the right height to use his new jump to escape, The marine was struggling now trying to shake the youth off, " looks like you are the one who is getting exhausted now, if you don't think of something this dagger is going to rip through to an internal organ eventually, perhaps you should yeild, its been a good fight so far and I would be happy to call it a day." Victor Wolfe mused.
Re: Marine and Malcontent - Okor - 05-11-2015
The dull sensation of the soft metal needling his dead flesh was, indeed, rather irritating. At the youth's current rate, another few minutes of frenzied assault would yield some kind of results. The child was obviously more used to assassins and raw recruits, rather than the solid bulwark of adamantium and blessed flesh. With a grunt of exertion, Okor grabbed the distracted youth, his taunts being cut-off mid sentence by a filth-caked gauntlet wrapping itself around his arm. With a grunt of exertion, Okor flung the boy from his back, his twinned daggers clattering to the void at his side. Okor lunged forward, powering a fist towards the child's skull. The youth rolled to the side, a spray of slime erupting from where Okor's fist made contact with the surface where his face was but a moment before. Okor's sword plunged down, skittering off oblivion as Victor sprung up, dashing to his daggers. Okor strode forward, raising his sword for a diagonal cut through the boy's torso. So predictable. Victor sprinted forwards, Okor's eye struggling to follow his movement. Even before he sensed the daggers in his back, Okor was spinning around, his bare hand meeting Victor's face with a crack, driving the child to the ground, leaving a thin film of flesh-eating bacteria on his cheek. While it would undoubtedly be uncomfortable, it lacked sufficient quantities to damage him. Best to fix that.
Okor fell upon Victor, his hands dripping viral pools of death. His gauntlet fell upon Victor's face, eliciting a cracking of bone as his zygomatic bone shattered under the onslaught. He dropped his sword, allowing it to fall to the ground, bringing his bare hand to Victor's face, pressing it against his mandible. The youth struggled under his touch, the skin on his jaw already starting to shred, the bacteria doing their work. With but a few more seconds, the flesh would putrefy. Okor grinned beneath his helmet, taking pleasure in this opportunity to share Nurgle's gifts. "The... Arrogance. You call yourself a warrior, when all you have done is kill those you chose. Every battle you fought, you picked. Every leader... bleeding their last, every recruit breathing their death rattle." Okor's grip tightened, his bare fingers starting to sink into the putrefying flesh. "You became foolish. Every battle you chose, ended in victory. You are not worth the gems embedded into your... utensils. You've never bled. You've never taken a step back. You've never been hardened by defeat. You are burning... iron, bending and breaking with every slash, without the chill of defeat to harden you." As a strip of flesh began to fall from Victor's face, unable to tether itself to his bone from the rot, a silver blade jammed itself into Okor's gorget. He removed his hand, chuckling, slapping the child's arm away from the dagger. Okor stood, his tabard shifting in the air, the 3 circles of Nurgle filling Victor's vision as he tore the blood-stained dagger from his throat, tossing it to the ground. Clear fluid slowly leaked from his wound, seemingly unable to muster a pace beyond a slow drip. Okor raised his fists, still soaked with blood and filth, watching the youth rise. "Come now... Wolfe. Will you embrace your loss, or will you... still try to defy it?" Okor chuckled, his eye afire with the predator's love of the hunt. This was what he was born for, what he was designed for, what he shaped himself into. He'd sooner carve an Aquilla into his heart than admit his loss to this whelp.
Re: Second Chance. - Carn_Val - 05-11-2015
At the edge of sight, distant from the centerpiece fountain, a dark denizen departing deviates destination due to the dueling duo's denoted drama. Walking willfully, the walker whispers weighted words, "Presently, people purposely punch passing people proactively, partly procurring progressively. Practice perhaps?" Treading towards the two-tongued tower, the twilight talker talks, "Brethren, belittled by boastful baby, be braceful. B-b...blargh! I've had it with this fancy talk. Come on mister narrator, you too writer dude. Let me have a good show here, will you guys? That's it...back to first person, no third person narration for a while...it's too much for me. Now gimme that mic!"
*mic feedback*
*rattling noises*
*muffled cries*
*tap tap* "Is this thing on? Okay? Okay. Ahem...back to the top."
Parting from the swordsman and his sword familiar, my legs carried me back to the ever shifting fountain. Aimless and weary, I fell into a brief respite on this flat and pale place's porcelain-colored floor. If it weren't for these two self-deluded, swordwielding chunks of steak shouting about their ideals, it would have been longer. My nap, that is. Going out of my way just to stand back up from my nice and soft- not to mention absent and imaginary- restbed, I walked towards the...dueling duo, sheeesh, listening to their silly opinion about one another. How cute.
I stop a few meters beside the big guy, he seems in trouble after being poked a few times by the agile rat. I can't help but notice his stench and grime as well. Opening my mouth to talk, words started forming in the air, well not literally. "Man, you sure got worked up from the words of a pint-sized...human," I said. "Listen guys, you should be more sensitive about your surroundings, I was sleeping, you know?" Grunting and groaning followed my words. Yep, they weren't listening to me. I was being ignored. Oh well, I guess I should be leaving then...not. After the rude awakening, I'm a bit cranky, I would've been fine if they listened, now it's just annoying me further.
I take Tremor off my back and impales it to the ground in upright position. Taking a few steps back, I reach out for Trauma and start activating Anomaly Traits. The scythe quickly vibrates on my hands as if to tell me it is good to go and I start spinning Trauma around until I get the desired speed of rotation. In one smooth motion like an ace baseball batter, I use the scythe's accumulated speed to gain enough momentum for it to hit Tremor with blinding speed. I made a makeshift massdriver as the blunt of the scythe made contact with the giant cleaver, sending Tremor towards the tall meatwall, it's blade spinning with sound-breaking speed. The cleaver bashes the standing rhino with a satisfying clank as Tremor bounces and ricochets because of the armor. Nothing was cut but the impact itself was enough to cause the tall man to lose his footing, making him stagger to the left side. As Tremor catches more air from contact, I take hold of it, slapping the width of the blade on top of the smaller man. With a heavy, quarter-ton cleaver on top of you, struggling free would be futile at best. "Stay there and be a good kid," I tell the smaller man.
"Ok, now that I seem to have gotten your attention, I wanna ask a few things. May I?" I introduce myself as Carn, walking casually as I keep close proximity with my cleaver and its newfound cushion. "What was going in your minds to ruin such a wonderful day by fighting near a sleeping Anomaly, huh? Don't you know what time it is? It's-" then I realize there's no way of telling time in this null verse. "I seem to have lost track of time as well...oh well. What I was tryin to say is that I was sleeping because I was tired and somehow, somewhere along the way, you guys just had to ruin it. Ok? I'll forgive you kids once you tell me what happened," trying to be fair and just, I gave them a chance to explain themselves before I got annoyed any further. "Yeah, everyone has their own ideals and opinions but there's a place for that and it's not here, ok?" showing off my usual smile with a hint of irritation in my voice. I couldn't help it, they just annoyed me for some reason. I would have gone and talked further but I thought it was time to hear their side of the story. I bash Trauma's blade into the chalk ground and lean on the makeshift post from the handle.
"Go on, say something. We don't really have much time, little Timmy's face here seems to be melting already. Also, no funny ideas, I'll mince you into my breakfast."
Quote:OOC: Sorry about the whole mess. I tried 3rd person and decided I don't like it yet. Also, I'm barging in now since you guys said "no objection" when I raised the idea up in chat. Thanks.
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-12-2015
Pain, pure pain was all Vcitor could think about, his face felt like it was being ripped apart, the damage that Okor had inflicted would take a long time to heal even with the increased regeneration Wolfe possessed, If it had not been for this third being, Wolfe may have been beaten, however he was at a loss as to what this new being was, he looked humanoid but not like any human Victor had ever seen, not to mention the first time they meet it ends up with a giant cleaver across the chest of Wolfe holding him down, How the hell could he carry this thing, it must have weighed a quarter of a ton, this creature known as Carn was clearly much stronger than his light frame would make out, Wolfe decided he would cooperate with this third party as he had for better of for worse saved his life, not to mention the fact he was in no shape to be fighting a fresh opponent.
Victor Wolfe laid back trying to regain his stamina, he had been pushed to the point of exhaustion in that last encounter and this might be the brief moment of respite he needed. " Not the nicest way to introduce yourself is it, I thought I could be pretty nasty but not even I pin down half dead opponent, not do I interrupt "training" sessions" Wolfe had a clear irritation to his voice, although Carn had saved him, he also left him utterly helpless as he could not move.And Wolfe hated the feeling of being helpless. " we simply had a disagreement among gentleman and decided that the best way to blow off some steam was to have a practice session, besides wastelands are not the place you would expect anyone to sleep, so why don't you remove this clever, retreat a few meters away, and then I can finish what I started here, then we can have a conversation about the merits of wasteland bedding" Victor Wolfe smirked.
" Besides our little argument needs to be solved, whether or not someone like two tons of fun over there, who considers himself a holy warrior that would slaughter the weak by the millions, is any different from someone like me, a killer who targets only opponents that can put up a fight, you see its a matter of philosophy, and besides this walking pincushion has insulted my honor one to many times, he deserves to be killed, however as we agreed even if I win I will not kill him, i will beat him until he knows that I could have killed him, and then walk away."
Re: Second Chance. - Carn_Val - 05-12-2015
Waiting for any one of their excuses, I pluck off a few remaining strings of flesh stuck between my teeth to pass the time, looking busy. Every little bit I extracted would simply be flicked off into the distance, maybe sticking to passersby in the process. I look back at the man hugging my sleeping companion as he struggles to set himself free, again, futile. "Hey mister, don't get too comfortable with Tremor, that's mine, you know," I tell him as he settled down, realizing the vanity of his situation. I may have saved him some time but still, I'm disturbing their little 'play'. The man starts explaining what happened, how it started and everything else needed to spark fire and about reaching a conclusion in the form of 'practice'.
Contradictory to their words, they seem to fight with the necessary discipline and fuel needed to continue on, settling for a duel instead of some other underhanded tactics. One talks of murder and another of just culling, silly people. "Fair enough, I guess I'm partly at fault for sleeping in." As the smaller man mentions the cleaver I had rested on him, my thoughts went back to the current situation. In one simple motion, I scoop the cleaver up with the blade of my scythe, careful enough for the man to stand in one piece. "Sorry about that, I just don't like rude awakenings, don't we all? And about sleeping here, I can't help it, it's nice."
As I turn to leave the scene, I immediately face a thick blade coming for me horizontally. It was the metallic warmonger's sword trying to chop me into chunky pieces, if only it weren't for the ridiculously slow and obvious swing of the rather thick blade, it would've gotten me. Blocking it with the scythe, all the excess momentum was nullified by my back-flipping motion as I made the whole blade hover right above me. I continue my flips two more time before finishing it off with a quick dash sideways. "Rather large fan you have their. Perhaps your armor isn't cool enough? Oh yeah, take these too, toiletries, observe proper hygiene. " Chucking a toothbrush, toothpaste and some mouthwash to finish off, my personal hygiene kit was now empty. Great.
Dashing further away, letting the two men finish their practice, my smartphone starts making a weird clicking noise. I pull it out of my pocket to see a funky little banner ad that contains the letters D and A. Since I was technically still in the middle of combat, I waited for the two guys to call it off before reading the whole banner thoroughly. I took a nice, clear spot and sit on it cross-legged. Watching the two men brawl it out, I start wiping off the stink that got stuck to Tremor, poor guy.
Re: Second Chance. - Victor Wolfe - 05-12-2015
The blade was lifted and now Wolfe could continue his fight, he made sure that Carn was at a distance and turned his attention back to the gargantuan zombie in front of him, " well this has been fun so far but I doubt my stamina will hold up much longer, looks like I need to take this fight seriously, I do believe I have one more trick up my sleeve though, remember the armour that you sliced through at the start of this fight? Well it has a new use, blink and you will miss it"
Before Okor could respond Victor put one of his daggers into its sheath, and proceeded to rip the now shredded chainmail from his chest, he ran towards Okor still in agony from the wounds on his face but he could feel that he was close to a break through, the hunt had truly begun, the interference from Carn had allowed him to gain a second wind, just enough energy to complete this maneuver.
It started the same as his last plan, save energy by judging Okor's first swing perfectly, he had gotten used to how slow the blade would swing and as predicted it missed, Victor then used his jump to vault over Okor but this time though he dropped the chainmail over Okors one eye, even the strongest opponents struggle to fight blind, and this was what Victor was relying on, he stabbed lightly into the wound he had pried open with his last attack, just enough to convince Okor to start to turn, he walked straight into Wolfe's trap, before he could turn Wolfe used a speed dash to dive between his legs, he had noticed that the armour on his arms looked much thinner at the joints to allow for ease of movement, Wolfe thrusted both of his daggers at this part of the armour, he planned to totally sever the tendon and thus make it unusable, he needed Okor to be turning as the momentum of such a big body moving would make up for the strength needed to pierce the armour.
Okor who was still struggling to get the ripped chain mail off his head turned straight into the blade and the daggers sliced through the armour, Wolfe had predicted its just right, as it hit the flesh it felt like a wire was being cut and Okors sword arm went limp, the blade hit the ground with a satisfying clunk, Wolfe removed the dagger and began attacking the back of Okors legs hoping to destroy his movements, as his blades found the flesh he knew this battle was nearing its end, he had taken a lot of damage, his body was running on fumes, but if he could debilitate this giant's legs then none of that would matter. He could smell blood in the water, and it drove him into a stabbing frenzy, he sliced faster than he had ever done in his life, using all the pain he had suffered throughout the fight as fuel for his blade.
Re: Marine and Malcontent - Okor - 05-13-2015
Okor's bare fist descended on the irritant, the clenched skeletal claw cuffing the youth across the ear, driving him away from his maddened stabbing with a crack of bone on bone. "Enough. You have.... Proved your cowardice, your fear. Your... cruelty. Every single action you undertook screamed of your... true nature. You are weak, foolish, conniving, shouting your... glory to the world, only to flee, to run, to scheme when a threat presents itself. You ran from your duty, ran from your home, burying whatever screamed in.... defiance, counseled you to hold anything dear, replacing it with nothing but bloodlust." Okor's ceramite-clad foot rammed into the stunned youth's stomach, prompting a small amount of vomit to spew from the youth's savaged mouth. Clear blood splattered his joints, each step towards the youth causing a thin trickle of diseased bodily fluids to leak from his many wounds. "Speak your... lies, spit your empty, meaningless defiance. Scream your... nihilistic hatred of reality. Know that all of your skill, your speed, your... sadism, was nothing. Know that you failed. You threw yourself against the faithful, and broke upon their power." Okor pressed a foot against the boy's right leg, the bone inside starting to crack under the pressure applied by a marine of Okor's size. "You cannot stand, as you... stand for nothing. You are hollow."
Okor released his foot, Victor taking in a sharp intake of breath as Okor's pestilence ravaged his body. Okor sneered beneath his helmet, pacing around the struggling assassin. "You are nothing more than a pathetic... wretch. I have seen men like you on a dozen words, each of them... seeking violence, and little else. We give them knives, and point them at the foe. They die in droves, each of them convinced this story is his, and only his. That he will triumph, where his brothers failed. That he is destined for glory." Okor leaned in close to the boy. "Only one thing is fated... whelp. Death. Some embrace it. Some defy it. Some spread it, some stave it off. Some... are in between." Okor chuckled. He looked down upon the battered, bleeding youth, a number of pestilences beginning to make their presence known on his once-handsome body, still clutching a blooded dagger in a weak hand. "So... persistent." Okor raised his chin, exposing the chink in his gorget. "Come now, whelp. Do you hold the seeds of defiance in your heart? Do you wish.... to live? Would you plunge your blade into my... throat, to buy yourself a few more moments of life?" Okor exhaled a diseased breath across the youth's damaged face, assailing his nose with a cocktail of decay, sickness, and curiously, fresh rain. "Are you... just like me?"
Re: Marine and Malcontent: The Conclusion - Okor - 05-15-2015
Victor's hand, coated with clear blood, a reminder of the carnage he had been able to inflict on Okor's dead flesh, still clutched the dagger. Its blade was golden, obscured by the vitae it had shed in the savage battle preceding this final moment of judgement. The battered assassin rammed it upwards, the shimmering sliver scraping against the steel of the rotten power armour, no longer possessing the stamina necessary to aim his blows, let alone penetrate his foe's resilient hide. He lay there, broken, exhausted, panting and wheezing. Okor chuckled, rising from his crouching position, feeling a strange grinding in his knee, as bones scraped against each other, cracked by his foe's onslaught. He gazed balefully down upon the youth, judging the assassin. "Farewell, whelp. I enjoyed our.... Friendly duel." Okor hissed with no small amount of venom in his tone. Okor took a moment to swallow, the acidic bile from his Belcher's gland sizzling as it fell down his throat. He moved to grasp his ancient blade, only for his armoured hand to idly slap against it, unable to close around the hilt. Did he do that much damage? After a second of deliberation, Okor's bare hand shoved it through the rotten leather loop that passed for a scabbard. He turned, his cyclopean eye transfixing the Daemon spectating the scene. He threw out his one working arm, framing his hulking body, bleeding from a dozen unnoticed wounds. "Has your master sent you to toy with me as well, Daemon!? Have you come for my... Soul!?" Okor howled, defiance intrinsically a part of his very essence. He thumped his diseased claw against his breastplate, in one of humanity's curious, timeless customs. "Come for it then!" He began to laugh, the deep bass of the noise shaking those present to the core. Okor began to walk towards the Daemon, a strange mixture of shuffling and stomping.
"Bego-" As he began to curse the beast, he stumbled and fell, his knees finally giving in to the damage sustained in the fight. Dammit. He struggled to rise with only one functioning arm, like an overturned turtle. All the power his suit could provide him was irrelevant, given that his bare arm was his only perfectly functioning arm at the moment. He muttered curses under his breath, still struggling to rise to his feet, clear blood seeping from a variety of wounds, his nerves too deadened to notice the vitae leaking from his battered body.