06-29-2018, 07:40 AM
The vial soared through the air towards Erik, glinting in the low light of the snowy arena. The psychic watched the shimmering substance as it descended towards him, fascinated by the mysterious liquid. The fragile glass smashed against the priest’s parka, the elixir soaking through the thick, musty hide. The liquid seemed to move with purpose, soaking it's way towards Erik’s skin and absorbing into it. The noble was immediately struck with a pleasant feeling, as if his worries had evaporated. However, his cheery mood quickly gave way to a strange sensation.
“What was that?” Erik thought to himself as his stomach dropped and his lungs tightened. He could feel his skin crawling as he began to shrink, and worse yet, could feel his mind regressing. The psychic’s nausea abated after a few seconds, but he would have gladly traded it for what it was replaced by. Looking around the arena, the elixir’s effects were immediately obvious.
“I'm a child again…” Erik groaned. “How exactly would this make me act less childish?” Refocusing on the fight, the young priest attempted to rush over to his sword, only to be yanked back by his tether. Deadpool glanced over to his partner, narrowly dodging a swing from Gilgamesh, before doing a double take.
“Shit, when's Chris Hanson going to come out and ask me to take a seat?” The merc quipped as he came face to face with his little teammate. Erik looked at him blankly before reaching out with his telekinesis to reclaim his sword. Even with his young mind, Mageslayer fit in his hands with barely reduced familarlarity. The psychic cast his now oversized parka aside as a figure loomed over him, the bitter intent palpable. The boy raised his head to see Desman staring down at him, his face set in a cruel stare.
“Hey there, ‘pipsqueak’.” The king’s partner said, his mimicked katana raised above his head. Erik glared defiantly at his foe, Mageslayer grasped tightly in his small hands.
“Don't pres-presu-...” Erik cried impudently, his vocabulary stunted by the elixir. “Don't think I'm weak! I saw you copy my psi wall, heathen! Only priests are allowed to use that!” The little psychic shouted, his face contorted in a mask of rabid anger. The psychic swung Mageslayer to meet the descending katana, the shortsword held like a longsword in the child’s grip. Desman blinked in surprise at the boy’s skill, but his shock didn't last long. The young man dodged around Erik’s maddened swings and planted a foot in the psychic’s side.
“Careful, kid, you could really hurt someone with that.” Desman teased as Erik picked himself up, only to receive a knee to the face. While the redhead’s blows inflicted no physical pain on the boy, each served to stoke the fire that burned in his chest. Desman didn't just manipulate psi without being a priest, but he was mocking Erik’s righteous anger while he was at it! The psychic felt like his rage could burn him up from inside.
“I’m going to kill you!” The young priest squeaked, only for his high-pitched threat to be met with amused laughter.
“Yeah, whatever you say, buddy.” Desman chuckled as Erik stabbed Mageslayer into the snow. The laughter stopped as the clanking of steel resonated in the air, followed by half a dozen bloody chains erupting from the boy’s back. The chains formed a twisted steel net around their master. The steel lengths were grossly oversized on the psychic’s tiny frame, each coiled tendril was at least thrice as long as he was tall.
“I’ll teach you respect.” Erik said bitterly as his chains slithered around him, attempting to find an opening. Desman lifted his katana nervously as Erik trudged towards him, the redhead’s eyes darting between the coiling blades. Seeing his chance, the young priest plunged the chains towards his foe. Desman blocked two of the sweeping steel lengths, only for the blade of a third to plunge itself into his thigh.
The young man let out a cry of pain as the serrated edge ripped itself from his flesh, spraying the snow with blood. Desman staggered backwards, struggling to stand as agony shot up his leg. Erik smirked to himself as his chains returned, preparing himself for another attack. Before the psychic could strike, however, he was yanked back by his tether.
“Hey kid, get ready. We’re going to do Gil’s ‘use your partner as a weapon’ bit, but better.” Deadpool called, swinging the boy like a flail. Desperate not to let the heathen get away with his insults, the psychic sent his cruel chains out to grasp his foe.
The mercenary whipped his steel-bound partner towards the King, only to find that his weapon had a weapon. Desman was flung towards Gilgamesh as Erik’s chains released him, crashing heavily into the gilded demigod. The psychic landed hard himself, but quickly rose to his feet.
“I'm not done yet, heathen!” Erik cried as his eyes crackled with violet power. A bolt of eldritch energy formed in his grasp before careening towards Desman. “Feel your mind shred apart!”
“What was that?” Erik thought to himself as his stomach dropped and his lungs tightened. He could feel his skin crawling as he began to shrink, and worse yet, could feel his mind regressing. The psychic’s nausea abated after a few seconds, but he would have gladly traded it for what it was replaced by. Looking around the arena, the elixir’s effects were immediately obvious.
“I'm a child again…” Erik groaned. “How exactly would this make me act less childish?” Refocusing on the fight, the young priest attempted to rush over to his sword, only to be yanked back by his tether. Deadpool glanced over to his partner, narrowly dodging a swing from Gilgamesh, before doing a double take.
“Shit, when's Chris Hanson going to come out and ask me to take a seat?” The merc quipped as he came face to face with his little teammate. Erik looked at him blankly before reaching out with his telekinesis to reclaim his sword. Even with his young mind, Mageslayer fit in his hands with barely reduced familarlarity. The psychic cast his now oversized parka aside as a figure loomed over him, the bitter intent palpable. The boy raised his head to see Desman staring down at him, his face set in a cruel stare.
“Hey there, ‘pipsqueak’.” The king’s partner said, his mimicked katana raised above his head. Erik glared defiantly at his foe, Mageslayer grasped tightly in his small hands.
“Don't pres-presu-...” Erik cried impudently, his vocabulary stunted by the elixir. “Don't think I'm weak! I saw you copy my psi wall, heathen! Only priests are allowed to use that!” The little psychic shouted, his face contorted in a mask of rabid anger. The psychic swung Mageslayer to meet the descending katana, the shortsword held like a longsword in the child’s grip. Desman blinked in surprise at the boy’s skill, but his shock didn't last long. The young man dodged around Erik’s maddened swings and planted a foot in the psychic’s side.
“Careful, kid, you could really hurt someone with that.” Desman teased as Erik picked himself up, only to receive a knee to the face. While the redhead’s blows inflicted no physical pain on the boy, each served to stoke the fire that burned in his chest. Desman didn't just manipulate psi without being a priest, but he was mocking Erik’s righteous anger while he was at it! The psychic felt like his rage could burn him up from inside.
“I’m going to kill you!” The young priest squeaked, only for his high-pitched threat to be met with amused laughter.
“Yeah, whatever you say, buddy.” Desman chuckled as Erik stabbed Mageslayer into the snow. The laughter stopped as the clanking of steel resonated in the air, followed by half a dozen bloody chains erupting from the boy’s back. The chains formed a twisted steel net around their master. The steel lengths were grossly oversized on the psychic’s tiny frame, each coiled tendril was at least thrice as long as he was tall.
“I’ll teach you respect.” Erik said bitterly as his chains slithered around him, attempting to find an opening. Desman lifted his katana nervously as Erik trudged towards him, the redhead’s eyes darting between the coiling blades. Seeing his chance, the young priest plunged the chains towards his foe. Desman blocked two of the sweeping steel lengths, only for the blade of a third to plunge itself into his thigh.
The young man let out a cry of pain as the serrated edge ripped itself from his flesh, spraying the snow with blood. Desman staggered backwards, struggling to stand as agony shot up his leg. Erik smirked to himself as his chains returned, preparing himself for another attack. Before the psychic could strike, however, he was yanked back by his tether.
“Hey kid, get ready. We’re going to do Gil’s ‘use your partner as a weapon’ bit, but better.” Deadpool called, swinging the boy like a flail. Desperate not to let the heathen get away with his insults, the psychic sent his cruel chains out to grasp his foe.
The mercenary whipped his steel-bound partner towards the King, only to find that his weapon had a weapon. Desman was flung towards Gilgamesh as Erik’s chains released him, crashing heavily into the gilded demigod. The psychic landed hard himself, but quickly rose to his feet.
“I'm not done yet, heathen!” Erik cried as his eyes crackled with violet power. A bolt of eldritch energy formed in his grasp before careening towards Desman. “Feel your mind shred apart!”
Quote:850/850 words
Erik used Mageslayer, false emperor's sting, mindbreak on Desman (-1 SP, 4/5 remaining)
Desman used his mimicked katana.
*The emperor of mankind yeets erik into a sun*
[Today 08:03 pm] Erik Vrell : Bruh
[Today 08:03 pm] The emperor of mankind : don't worship gods
[Today 08:03 pm] Erik Vrell : Bruh
[Today 08:03 pm] The emperor of mankind : don't worship gods