12-18-2017, 01:31 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-29-2017, 01:32 PM by King Ghidorah.
Edit Reason: Word choice, general cleaning
)
Another blast of searing rainbow light erupts, striking me in the chest with such force that the sodden loam compacts beneath me, oozing filthy water, and golden blood leaks from my armored hide.
Lying prone, now can I see her. She floats above me, high in the air, eyes shining with polychromatic energy. Her robes flap wildly in the breeze around her slender human form. Her tightly bound hairstyle (a baffling affectation for a creature such as she) is tossled and frayed, stray strands twisting in the wind.
I bark out a mirthless laugh and stagger to my feet - but just as I open my mouth to speak Mothra reaches out her hand, and a sudden overwhelming current of violent, twisting air sends me tumbling backwards as though caught in a hurricane, scrabbling for handholds in the mud.
The disguised lepidopteran titan descends. Her arm never wavers, the constant tide of tearing gusts flowing from her palm continuing to send me twisting and rolling over the damp, muddy ground.
"PLease, just leave. Where we come from, you were a figure of terror for my family - but here? I have had far longer than you to rebuild my strength. If we keep doing this, I'm going to kill you."
She drops her arm, and the wind-tunnel dissipates. I begin to rise, astral charge surging through my veins and sparking across my fingers. I start to bellow my denial and contempt - only to be struck with such force that I'm driven to my knees, my blood - my blood! - flowing freely from what's now become a shallow wound in my rippling chest, interrupted again by Mothra's punishing prismatic eye-beams.
Enough! I categorically refuse to be humbled by an insect! Least of all by one that shoots rainbows - and especially - especially! - not one of Mothra's line!
The two dormant serpentine muzzles which perch upon my shoulders stir, two additional pairs of red eyes snapping open, and I unleash my golden lightning. Power leaps and crackles, bursting from my hands, burning in my throat, blazing a triple-helix of arcing actinic destruction.
My opponent is caught by surprise, forced back as the coruscating (a word that brings frantic movement to mind, independent of definition) cosmic energies tear at her frail form, but she doesn't fall. The cascade of power, though I can sustain it for only a short time, summons a cloud of steam from the waterlogged grasslands around us, raising a mist which reeks of boiled cabbage. Snarling in vicious satisfaction, I charge. My path is marked by sucking splashes as I bear down on the staggered feminine figure in the newly-risen fog. Intent on finishing my prey, I scream defiance, deriding her folly.
"Arrogant Moth! The difference between us is nothing so-
I am interrupted yet again; Seemingly unhurt, at the last moment Mothra jumps straight up, half-turns as she rises, torn robes billowing, loose hair streaming. With seemingly intuitive grace, she tucks one leg beneath her and drives the heel of the other into the bridge of my ridiculous human nose.
The pain is abrupt, intense, exploding white behind my eyes, leaving stabbing confusion in its wake. The strength of her hominid disguise is nearly - but not quite - a match for that of my own. I lurch backward, unbalanced and dazed, barely able to stay upright. It's more than just the impact - what just happened makes no sense! How did she move like that, with such speed and precision? Could she really have adjusted so well to that repulsive body?
I'm not able to dwell on it, or even to focus; I fire my lightning wildly, stumbling in the muck, but before I can recover Mothra is upon me again. She shocks my body with a cascade of blows which I can barely process, much less defend; My knee buckles, the breath rushes from my lungs, my head snaps one direction, and then the other. A rush of cool air and the taste of my own blood fills my mouth - and as a creeping numbness sets in, the red rage rises.
Mothra way well have mastered the use of these pathetic puppets of meat and bone in which we are forced to hide, but this is not what we are - and it is not how this contest will be decided!
I reach inside myself, and reveal my true shape, ascending on a tide of cosmic fire. As the inferno shifts and divides, arms becoming wings, one head becoming three, our awareness sharpens, our extra brains compensating for our battered brother. There is still pain, yes, one head dazed and an ache in our chest - but there is also power, and the satisfaction of sheer size. Larger than the Duke's keep, we spread our wings, and they rattle like golden thunder. Bronze serpentine necks and twin tails writhe. Three razor-toothed mouths open wide to the heavens, and we scream defiance!
As expected, ours isn't the only transformation.
A blinding mote of rainbow light is rising into the iron-gray sky, beginning as a spark at our feet and moving rapidly away - and then, with a deafening crack it expands, a massive moth-shaped silhouette composed of sparking prismatic radiance. Red and green lightning arcs around it, and a keening cry rings out as it rapidly solidifies into a familiar physical form.
... a massive physical form.
She's actually.... bigger than us. Not tremendously so, but her fluffy black-and-white striped thorax is almost one-third again our size, and her rainbow-swirled wingspan looks to be nearly double our own. Each of her enormous compound eyes is a little more than half the size of one of our heads.
...
This may be more difficult than we had anticipated.
Lying prone, now can I see her. She floats above me, high in the air, eyes shining with polychromatic energy. Her robes flap wildly in the breeze around her slender human form. Her tightly bound hairstyle (a baffling affectation for a creature such as she) is tossled and frayed, stray strands twisting in the wind.
I bark out a mirthless laugh and stagger to my feet - but just as I open my mouth to speak Mothra reaches out her hand, and a sudden overwhelming current of violent, twisting air sends me tumbling backwards as though caught in a hurricane, scrabbling for handholds in the mud.
The disguised lepidopteran titan descends. Her arm never wavers, the constant tide of tearing gusts flowing from her palm continuing to send me twisting and rolling over the damp, muddy ground.
"PLease, just leave. Where we come from, you were a figure of terror for my family - but here? I have had far longer than you to rebuild my strength. If we keep doing this, I'm going to kill you."
She drops her arm, and the wind-tunnel dissipates. I begin to rise, astral charge surging through my veins and sparking across my fingers. I start to bellow my denial and contempt - only to be struck with such force that I'm driven to my knees, my blood - my blood! - flowing freely from what's now become a shallow wound in my rippling chest, interrupted again by Mothra's punishing prismatic eye-beams.
Enough! I categorically refuse to be humbled by an insect! Least of all by one that shoots rainbows - and especially - especially! - not one of Mothra's line!
The two dormant serpentine muzzles which perch upon my shoulders stir, two additional pairs of red eyes snapping open, and I unleash my golden lightning. Power leaps and crackles, bursting from my hands, burning in my throat, blazing a triple-helix of arcing actinic destruction.
My opponent is caught by surprise, forced back as the coruscating (a word that brings frantic movement to mind, independent of definition) cosmic energies tear at her frail form, but she doesn't fall. The cascade of power, though I can sustain it for only a short time, summons a cloud of steam from the waterlogged grasslands around us, raising a mist which reeks of boiled cabbage. Snarling in vicious satisfaction, I charge. My path is marked by sucking splashes as I bear down on the staggered feminine figure in the newly-risen fog. Intent on finishing my prey, I scream defiance, deriding her folly.
"Arrogant Moth! The difference between us is nothing so-
I am interrupted yet again; Seemingly unhurt, at the last moment Mothra jumps straight up, half-turns as she rises, torn robes billowing, loose hair streaming. With seemingly intuitive grace, she tucks one leg beneath her and drives the heel of the other into the bridge of my ridiculous human nose.
The pain is abrupt, intense, exploding white behind my eyes, leaving stabbing confusion in its wake. The strength of her hominid disguise is nearly - but not quite - a match for that of my own. I lurch backward, unbalanced and dazed, barely able to stay upright. It's more than just the impact - what just happened makes no sense! How did she move like that, with such speed and precision? Could she really have adjusted so well to that repulsive body?
I'm not able to dwell on it, or even to focus; I fire my lightning wildly, stumbling in the muck, but before I can recover Mothra is upon me again. She shocks my body with a cascade of blows which I can barely process, much less defend; My knee buckles, the breath rushes from my lungs, my head snaps one direction, and then the other. A rush of cool air and the taste of my own blood fills my mouth - and as a creeping numbness sets in, the red rage rises.
Mothra way well have mastered the use of these pathetic puppets of meat and bone in which we are forced to hide, but this is not what we are - and it is not how this contest will be decided!
I reach inside myself, and reveal my true shape, ascending on a tide of cosmic fire. As the inferno shifts and divides, arms becoming wings, one head becoming three, our awareness sharpens, our extra brains compensating for our battered brother. There is still pain, yes, one head dazed and an ache in our chest - but there is also power, and the satisfaction of sheer size. Larger than the Duke's keep, we spread our wings, and they rattle like golden thunder. Bronze serpentine necks and twin tails writhe. Three razor-toothed mouths open wide to the heavens, and we scream defiance!
As expected, ours isn't the only transformation.
A blinding mote of rainbow light is rising into the iron-gray sky, beginning as a spark at our feet and moving rapidly away - and then, with a deafening crack it expands, a massive moth-shaped silhouette composed of sparking prismatic radiance. Red and green lightning arcs around it, and a keening cry rings out as it rapidly solidifies into a familiar physical form.
... a massive physical form.
She's actually.... bigger than us. Not tremendously so, but her fluffy black-and-white striped thorax is almost one-third again our size, and her rainbow-swirled wingspan looks to be nearly double our own. Each of her enormous compound eyes is a little more than half the size of one of our heads.
...
This may be more difficult than we had anticipated.