02-24-2018, 01:14 AM
Kuzuru groaned and rubbed his gut, “helluva kick on girly.”
For a while the sword-spirit laid in the dirt, his adversaries preoccupied with one another. Even though his brain was absolutely flooded with endorphins his painfully human body cried out for respite. Blood, slick and warm, soaked through his pants where Okor’s phosphex round had pierced through his thigh. Despite this fresh agony he grinned, and how could he not? This was truly a gift from Omni himself, a clash filled with the greatest of fighters. Kuzuru reached for the wound, and clamped his hand tight around it. This pain was exquisite. This was everything the demon had hoped for. He slipped a finger into the open wound and picked at it. Once his hand was saturated with blood the demon sat up and held the dripping mitt in front of his face. He grinned. In an act of debauchery fit only for the depraved the demon smeared this bloody paw along his face, lapping at the copper liquid as he did. He inhaled deeply and shivered at the heady crimson scent. Ecstasy was too poor a word for what he felt in that moment.
He stood, so did thousands of consumed souls. Warriors from every period in history were called forth to be Kuzuru’s unwilling conscripts. An eternity of combat experience flooded the demon’s mind. Slaughter pumped in his veins and carnage thrummed at the back of his skull. He charged across the ephemeral landscape with a sloppy off-kilter gait, still adjusting to the wound in his leg.. As he charged so did his begrudging sycophants, their war cries an unnatural byproduct of this dreamland. Covered in blood and with a fresh set of blades the demon charged towards his target. Okor was old news and the priest was more obnoxious than anything, but the hollowfied was fresh and exciting and he wanted nothing more than to eviscerate her. Weiss was preoccupied with pummeling the plagued paladin and keeping the pernicious preacher at bay that she hadn’t even noticed the approaching storm of blades until it was practically on top of her.
To her credit, in that half second of realization, Weiss managed to raise her weapon and redirect the majority of Kuzuru’s charge. Even still the pure force of impact sent her stumbling backwards scrambling to cobble together what defense she could. Blade danced with blade and, despite her rapier’s stature, she managed to contend with the flurry of black iron being leveled against her. Bloody faced and grinning Kuzuru refused to relent. A counterattack slipped past his guard and cut a thin red line across his burnt shoulder. This sudden and sharp pain only spurred him on to greater acts of butchery. His eyes went wide as the dust cylinder rotated and chambered its cherry red payload. There was no chance to react as Weiss once again slipped through his guard and tagged him with the tip of her weapon. The demon was sent reeling as the flame dust erupted, forcing him back several feet with its concussive blast. With the momentum killed the two stood panting, waiting for the other to make a move.
“Come on now,” Kuzuru said, throwing his hands out to the side, “you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”
“You’re disgusting,” Weiss’s voice reverberated through her mask.
Kuzuru smiled and licked his bloody lips.
“Do you hate me?” he asked.
“Shut up.”
The demon chuckled and continued, “do you hate the wolf for devouring the lamb? It must eat or it will die, surely you can’t fault it for following the natural order of things?”
Weiss did not answer.
“So then why do you hate me for simply doing what I am compelled by nature to do?” Kuzuru asked.
“You, you started this,” Weiss spit venom through her mask, “you chose to fight, you chose to attack us, you’re not fighting to feed yourself, you’re fighting because you get off on it, and it is revolting.”
Kuzuru frowned and retracted his blades. A slit opened up in his right palm and from this lipless mouth unspooled a weighted chain of black iron.
“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he said, his once-fevered voice now emotionless, “I didn’t have a choice, I never have a choice, I am humanity’s violence, I am every act of bloodshed, and so long as humanity draws blood so shall I.”
With that said Kuzuru began to spin the chain high above his head, picking up momentum with every rotation. In response the hollowfiend raised her palm and channeled a wicked orb of blood red energy. The demon smiled as his chain became a unified blur and in an instant flicked his wrist towards her. The weighted cylinder at the end of Kuzuru’s weapon snapped across the battlefield, taking a wide arc. Horrible and visceral the sound of solid metal colliding with flesh and bone squelched across the battlefield. Weiss’s hand was mashed as the weighted cylinder slammed into it. Her cero disintegrated and fizzled as her fractured hand fell to her side. Weiss yelped in pain, but raised her rapier in defense. Kuzuru’s body twisted and strained as he brought the chain back around for another pass. This time he aimed for her head. Much to the demon’s surprised she stepped into the blow, catching it with Myretenaster and releasing a burst of sound dust into the iron weapon. Vibrations traveled down the chain at breakneck speed, grounding it and forcing it to rattling and shiver like a dying serpent. These pulsations propagated into the demon’s arm and he clenched his teeth at the horrendous sensation. With sloppy movements he tried to bring the chain back up to speed, but his half numb limb refused to cooperate.
“Enough of this,” Weiss shouted, pointing her weapon at him, “this is going to end now!”
Kuzuru’s smile returned, “go ahead and try girly.”
For a while the sword-spirit laid in the dirt, his adversaries preoccupied with one another. Even though his brain was absolutely flooded with endorphins his painfully human body cried out for respite. Blood, slick and warm, soaked through his pants where Okor’s phosphex round had pierced through his thigh. Despite this fresh agony he grinned, and how could he not? This was truly a gift from Omni himself, a clash filled with the greatest of fighters. Kuzuru reached for the wound, and clamped his hand tight around it. This pain was exquisite. This was everything the demon had hoped for. He slipped a finger into the open wound and picked at it. Once his hand was saturated with blood the demon sat up and held the dripping mitt in front of his face. He grinned. In an act of debauchery fit only for the depraved the demon smeared this bloody paw along his face, lapping at the copper liquid as he did. He inhaled deeply and shivered at the heady crimson scent. Ecstasy was too poor a word for what he felt in that moment.
He stood, so did thousands of consumed souls. Warriors from every period in history were called forth to be Kuzuru’s unwilling conscripts. An eternity of combat experience flooded the demon’s mind. Slaughter pumped in his veins and carnage thrummed at the back of his skull. He charged across the ephemeral landscape with a sloppy off-kilter gait, still adjusting to the wound in his leg.. As he charged so did his begrudging sycophants, their war cries an unnatural byproduct of this dreamland. Covered in blood and with a fresh set of blades the demon charged towards his target. Okor was old news and the priest was more obnoxious than anything, but the hollowfied was fresh and exciting and he wanted nothing more than to eviscerate her. Weiss was preoccupied with pummeling the plagued paladin and keeping the pernicious preacher at bay that she hadn’t even noticed the approaching storm of blades until it was practically on top of her.
To her credit, in that half second of realization, Weiss managed to raise her weapon and redirect the majority of Kuzuru’s charge. Even still the pure force of impact sent her stumbling backwards scrambling to cobble together what defense she could. Blade danced with blade and, despite her rapier’s stature, she managed to contend with the flurry of black iron being leveled against her. Bloody faced and grinning Kuzuru refused to relent. A counterattack slipped past his guard and cut a thin red line across his burnt shoulder. This sudden and sharp pain only spurred him on to greater acts of butchery. His eyes went wide as the dust cylinder rotated and chambered its cherry red payload. There was no chance to react as Weiss once again slipped through his guard and tagged him with the tip of her weapon. The demon was sent reeling as the flame dust erupted, forcing him back several feet with its concussive blast. With the momentum killed the two stood panting, waiting for the other to make a move.
“Come on now,” Kuzuru said, throwing his hands out to the side, “you can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this.”
“You’re disgusting,” Weiss’s voice reverberated through her mask.
Kuzuru smiled and licked his bloody lips.
“Do you hate me?” he asked.
“Shut up.”
The demon chuckled and continued, “do you hate the wolf for devouring the lamb? It must eat or it will die, surely you can’t fault it for following the natural order of things?”
Weiss did not answer.
“So then why do you hate me for simply doing what I am compelled by nature to do?” Kuzuru asked.
“You, you started this,” Weiss spit venom through her mask, “you chose to fight, you chose to attack us, you’re not fighting to feed yourself, you’re fighting because you get off on it, and it is revolting.”
Kuzuru frowned and retracted his blades. A slit opened up in his right palm and from this lipless mouth unspooled a weighted chain of black iron.
“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” he said, his once-fevered voice now emotionless, “I didn’t have a choice, I never have a choice, I am humanity’s violence, I am every act of bloodshed, and so long as humanity draws blood so shall I.”
With that said Kuzuru began to spin the chain high above his head, picking up momentum with every rotation. In response the hollowfiend raised her palm and channeled a wicked orb of blood red energy. The demon smiled as his chain became a unified blur and in an instant flicked his wrist towards her. The weighted cylinder at the end of Kuzuru’s weapon snapped across the battlefield, taking a wide arc. Horrible and visceral the sound of solid metal colliding with flesh and bone squelched across the battlefield. Weiss’s hand was mashed as the weighted cylinder slammed into it. Her cero disintegrated and fizzled as her fractured hand fell to her side. Weiss yelped in pain, but raised her rapier in defense. Kuzuru’s body twisted and strained as he brought the chain back around for another pass. This time he aimed for her head. Much to the demon’s surprised she stepped into the blow, catching it with Myretenaster and releasing a burst of sound dust into the iron weapon. Vibrations traveled down the chain at breakneck speed, grounding it and forcing it to rattling and shiver like a dying serpent. These pulsations propagated into the demon’s arm and he clenched his teeth at the horrendous sensation. With sloppy movements he tried to bring the chain back up to speed, but his half numb limb refused to cooperate.
“Enough of this,” Weiss shouted, pointing her weapon at him, “this is going to end now!”
Kuzuru’s smile returned, “go ahead and try girly.”
Quote:Using "Strength of the Damned" for the round. Kuzuru's new statline
ATK - 6
DEF - 1
SPD - 4
TEC - 4
1/5 SP remaining
![[Image: ZzG0TJ9.png]](http://i.imgur.com/ZzG0TJ9.png)
![[Image: AshenBladeBadge.png]](http://www.cytokineindustries.com/chevereto/images/2017/07/13/AshenBladeBadge.png)