01-29-2017, 06:01 PM
Kerrigan walked slowly through the broken pieces of stone and rubble that once symbolized “Safety” to those inside the Walls of Darkshire. Her bladed wings shivered with anticipation, as she walked through the fallen debris and destruction that now swarmed with her forces. Not a moment after the walls fell to crumbling, corpse-ridden pieces, a sea of bloodthirty monsters and spirits charged for the rubble of the broken wall with savage enthusiasm.
Kerrigan smiled, as she turned to speak to Skeletor’s orb, only to find it suddenly fizzle out of existence in front of her. Problems underneath the city? No matter.
“Go. Fan out. Spread destruction. Let none survive-”
“Who is wearing the pants?!”
Kerrigan’s pace slowed down suddenly. She had yet to be surprised since she’d been transported to the omniverse. Turning around to see what seemed to be a young teenager, sporting shades, wearing a red and black suit, and strolling across the blood-soaked battlefield with all of the apparent care of waiting in line, that streak had been broken..
All Kerrigan could momentarily bring herself to say was “What?”
The child in front of her scanned Sarah up and down. “Well, not you. That is a serious lack of pants, holy fucking shit.” the teenager continued.
Sarah decided to end this conversation before she let her worse impulses make her decisions, turning to face this… fighter?
“My name is Sarah Kerrigan. I’m the one in command of this assault. Have you come to oppose us…?” The queen of blades asked, as her wings buzzed almost like stingers behind her back.
The teenager shrugged lazily. “Naw, I’m here to do some assaulting. And stuff. I’m not late, am I?”
Kerrigan’s zerg-modified was a hallmark of zerg engineering. It took her a fraction of a microsecond for her to make complex tactical evaluations, and create strategic plans for a lengthy campaign. She could do ten thousand games of chess with herself in the time it took a bee to flap its wings.
But Kerrigan still found herself needing to take a second to figure out what the hell was going on.
“So am I-”
Kerrigan pointed towards the breach. “We’re assaulting through the breach. Be quick to assist us, and I might even reward you. Go!” Kerrigan stated, carefully hiding her irritation as she walked forward at a quicker pace. Something told her it was far better for this prime to join late - if he’d met them in the castle, she imagined this idiot’s head would have arrived to the assault tied to Illidan’s belt.
As soon as Kerrigan pointed, however, a rolling blast of white energy pointed back in response. The Queen of blades threw herself to the side just before the blast reached her, and caught herself on her hands. Cartwheeling back into a standing position, she regarded her new opponent: An angry, white-haired man who literally radiated with power.
Smoke seeped out of the half-melted remains of the stone where Kerrigan stood, and she realized she’d been half a step away from vaporization.
“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Kerrigan asked with an even smirk.
“Fuck you.” Was the predictable retort. In truth, Kerrigan already knew about this individual - many within Darkshire knew of the vaunted Strazio Rockwell by now, and she’d gained access to the memories of everyone she infested. She’d wondered if the tales of his destructive power were exaggerated. From that little display, she realized with some frustration that the tales of his strength had actually been underplayed.
Darkshire soldiers followed behind him, and to her exasperation, her troops were suddenly pushed back into the breach by a wall of blades and pikes. It seemed they wouldn’t be able to push into Darkshire until these soldiers were dealt with. As she saw another pair of oddly dressed creatures pop through the lines, a swordsman with a cocky smirk and a deformed, orange-horned humanoid that looked like the end result of a lifetime of drug abuse, she hoped the red-Tuxxed prime next to her was ready for a tough fight.
“Oh, shit, a troll! Didn’t we rap-battle before?”
Hope and expectation rarely went hand in hand for Sarah Kerrigan.
Kerrigan smiled, as she turned to speak to Skeletor’s orb, only to find it suddenly fizzle out of existence in front of her. Problems underneath the city? No matter.
“Go. Fan out. Spread destruction. Let none survive-”
“Who is wearing the pants?!”
Kerrigan’s pace slowed down suddenly. She had yet to be surprised since she’d been transported to the omniverse. Turning around to see what seemed to be a young teenager, sporting shades, wearing a red and black suit, and strolling across the blood-soaked battlefield with all of the apparent care of waiting in line, that streak had been broken..
All Kerrigan could momentarily bring herself to say was “What?”
The child in front of her scanned Sarah up and down. “Well, not you. That is a serious lack of pants, holy fucking shit.” the teenager continued.
Sarah decided to end this conversation before she let her worse impulses make her decisions, turning to face this… fighter?
“My name is Sarah Kerrigan. I’m the one in command of this assault. Have you come to oppose us…?” The queen of blades asked, as her wings buzzed almost like stingers behind her back.
The teenager shrugged lazily. “Naw, I’m here to do some assaulting. And stuff. I’m not late, am I?”
Kerrigan’s zerg-modified was a hallmark of zerg engineering. It took her a fraction of a microsecond for her to make complex tactical evaluations, and create strategic plans for a lengthy campaign. She could do ten thousand games of chess with herself in the time it took a bee to flap its wings.
But Kerrigan still found herself needing to take a second to figure out what the hell was going on.
“So am I-”
Kerrigan pointed towards the breach. “We’re assaulting through the breach. Be quick to assist us, and I might even reward you. Go!” Kerrigan stated, carefully hiding her irritation as she walked forward at a quicker pace. Something told her it was far better for this prime to join late - if he’d met them in the castle, she imagined this idiot’s head would have arrived to the assault tied to Illidan’s belt.
As soon as Kerrigan pointed, however, a rolling blast of white energy pointed back in response. The Queen of blades threw herself to the side just before the blast reached her, and caught herself on her hands. Cartwheeling back into a standing position, she regarded her new opponent: An angry, white-haired man who literally radiated with power.
Smoke seeped out of the half-melted remains of the stone where Kerrigan stood, and she realized she’d been half a step away from vaporization.
“To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Kerrigan asked with an even smirk.
“Fuck you.” Was the predictable retort. In truth, Kerrigan already knew about this individual - many within Darkshire knew of the vaunted Strazio Rockwell by now, and she’d gained access to the memories of everyone she infested. She’d wondered if the tales of his destructive power were exaggerated. From that little display, she realized with some frustration that the tales of his strength had actually been underplayed.
Darkshire soldiers followed behind him, and to her exasperation, her troops were suddenly pushed back into the breach by a wall of blades and pikes. It seemed they wouldn’t be able to push into Darkshire until these soldiers were dealt with. As she saw another pair of oddly dressed creatures pop through the lines, a swordsman with a cocky smirk and a deformed, orange-horned humanoid that looked like the end result of a lifetime of drug abuse, she hoped the red-Tuxxed prime next to her was ready for a tough fight.
“Oh, shit, a troll! Didn’t we rap-battle before?”
Hope and expectation rarely went hand in hand for Sarah Kerrigan.