08-26-2017, 02:42 AM
While Weiss tried to talk Kopaka down from his unreasoning fury, Keldor was having difficulties of his own.
"Help me you capricious buffoons!" the warlock cried, knocking a yeti off its snowboard with a well-placed blow to the ankles - only to be toppled in turn as a penguin wearing a goalie-mask taboganned out from among a stand of pines, perpendicular to the slope, and hit him in the back of the knees with a hockey-stick. Another penguin, freakishly large this time, with pale coloration, a hoary twisted bill, tiny, atrophied eyes and calcified sores on its neck and face immediately ran over the fallen liberator. It rode a cheerfully-painted wooden sled with red metal runners, and someone had provided it with a knitted wool stocking cap.
"Ahg! Impudent waterfowl! Your entire phylum will suffer for this!"
As the liberators bogged down in the face of unorthodox opponents and their own incompatible personalities, Blizzard Man rose from the snow.
Smoky violet sparks blazed, pulsing within the holes and fissures that marred the Darkloid's scuffed and battered two-tone shell. Darker arcs of undirected power fizzed and popped across his soot-blackened joints, illuminated the shattered top of his formerly-cheerful orange hat and glowed behind the smashed and crumpled housing of his now-missing snowman chest-ornament. With a ratcheting groan of grinding metal, the Navi hauled himself upright amid a cascade of violet powder.
This was not going the way he'd hoped. Blizzard Man's deceptively whimsical paint-job was scorched, his armor was compromised in multiple places, and several of his internal systems were threatening to fail from heat-damage. These vermin clearly had no appreciation for the spirit of wintertime sport or the skibum/snowbunny lifestyle (let alone the glory of Nebula - hail Nebula)!
He'd make them pay for that.
Blizzard Man's eyes narrowed menacingly as he produced a darkchip from within one of his gauntlets, slotting the sinister device into a port on the back of his opposite hand. The intensity of the malevolent power crackling around him and within him grew, threatening a dangerous overload of his damaged systems. The Darkloid general raised his arms above his head - and a wave of violet energy suffused by a faint golden corona erupted from his body and rippled across the mountainside.
The darkchip fell, steaming in the snow. A moment later, the ground began to shake. Blizzard Man took up his remaining ski-pole, and prepared to to make his move.
"Help me you capricious buffoons!" the warlock cried, knocking a yeti off its snowboard with a well-placed blow to the ankles - only to be toppled in turn as a penguin wearing a goalie-mask taboganned out from among a stand of pines, perpendicular to the slope, and hit him in the back of the knees with a hockey-stick. Another penguin, freakishly large this time, with pale coloration, a hoary twisted bill, tiny, atrophied eyes and calcified sores on its neck and face immediately ran over the fallen liberator. It rode a cheerfully-painted wooden sled with red metal runners, and someone had provided it with a knitted wool stocking cap.
"Ahg! Impudent waterfowl! Your entire phylum will suffer for this!"
As the liberators bogged down in the face of unorthodox opponents and their own incompatible personalities, Blizzard Man rose from the snow.
Smoky violet sparks blazed, pulsing within the holes and fissures that marred the Darkloid's scuffed and battered two-tone shell. Darker arcs of undirected power fizzed and popped across his soot-blackened joints, illuminated the shattered top of his formerly-cheerful orange hat and glowed behind the smashed and crumpled housing of his now-missing snowman chest-ornament. With a ratcheting groan of grinding metal, the Navi hauled himself upright amid a cascade of violet powder.
This was not going the way he'd hoped. Blizzard Man's deceptively whimsical paint-job was scorched, his armor was compromised in multiple places, and several of his internal systems were threatening to fail from heat-damage. These vermin clearly had no appreciation for the spirit of wintertime sport or the skibum/snowbunny lifestyle (let alone the glory of Nebula - hail Nebula)!
He'd make them pay for that.
Blizzard Man's eyes narrowed menacingly as he produced a darkchip from within one of his gauntlets, slotting the sinister device into a port on the back of his opposite hand. The intensity of the malevolent power crackling around him and within him grew, threatening a dangerous overload of his damaged systems. The Darkloid general raised his arms above his head - and a wave of violet energy suffused by a faint golden corona erupted from his body and rippled across the mountainside.
The darkchip fell, steaming in the snow. A moment later, the ground began to shake. Blizzard Man took up his remaining ski-pole, and prepared to to make his move.
Quote:Apologies for the delays.
Blizzardman's Darkchip creates high-pressure cryo-geysers beneath wherever our heroes happen to be standing at the time - super-cooled water-jets about four feet in diameter that shoot like, thirty-feet in the air, with carbon-dioxide steam for extra funzies - and that this happens every ten seconds, for the next thirty seconds, with a two-second lead-up before each eruption, where the ground under the liberators roils and there's a little tell-tale vapor.
The sudden onslaught of tremors in the area will inevitably cause yet more avalanches.
Everyone has as much time as they want to make one more post, of up to 1200 words. This will be the final round, to finally wrap this up.