07-17-2018, 06:48 AM
Erik peered over his shoulder nervously, noting the similarities between the contraption and Sand Hawk’s flying deathtrap. There was little that could be done, however, and the priest gingerly opened the throttle on the jetpack. His stomach dropped as he lurched forward, careening into a nearby chunk of debris. The psychic crashed hard, knocking the wind from his lungs as he impacted the space junk.
“Blasted ‘modern’ machinery,” Erik cursed as he regained his bearings and kicked off the debris. “What's wrong with a flying mount?”
The psychic set his sights on the weasel warrior as he slowly adjusted to the jetpack, careful not to go flying off into space again.
“Distract the green one, I’ll take the… Furry thing.” Erik thought to Deadpool, telepathically sending his message across the void.
“You got it, just don't stay in my mind long. There's some baaaaad shit in here.” The mercenary replied as he drew his pistols and fired a few rounds towards Cell. Frustratingly, Ricter moved in between the mercenary and the bio-android, intercepting the bullets without hesitation. The cultist glanced around the arena, considering his options. Inspiration quickly struck Erik in the form of the same piece of debris he had smashed into moments before. Reaching out with his mind, the priest psionically grasped the junk before sending it to orbit above and around his foes, until the sword medic was positioned between Erik and the debris.
The weasel barely had time to react as the priest yanked the debris towards himself, pulling him along with it. With a moment’s hesitation, Erik summoned a psi blade and revved his jetpack, throwing himself towards his foe. Ricter’s mouth gaped in a silent gasp as the priest bore down on him, blade raised above his head. Just as they were about to impact each other, the psychic brought his ethereal weapon down in a devastating downwards strike. Devastating in theory, at least. Rather than cleaving the weasel in twain, the psi blade was ripped from Erik’s hand as if he had struck solid steel, quickly fading to vapour as it left its summoner’s grip.
The priest stared dumbfounded for a moment, unsure how to process what his eyes were telling him as the sword mimic slashed towards him in retaliation, cleaving Erik across his torso. The weasel’s blow had much more impact, sending the psychic reeling across the void.
“What on earth just happened?” The priest gasped to himself as he drifted through the abyss, his blood spilling out in a slow but steady spray. Erik gazed into the stars as he floated, strangely calmed by the celestial array before him. Shaking himself out of his shock, the cultist closed his eyes as he cast a prayer out into the darkness, praising his star-borne deity.
“Blessed be Father Gal’skap, highest among the old ones!” Erik roared as violet light bloomed within him, flooding his body with newfound strength. The psychic twisted his body to face his foes, reactivating the jetpack. The priest drew Mageslayer as he shot through the void towards Ricter, feeling a little more confident in his ability to maneuver the machine. The weasel raised Lanor at the last moment, deflecting his mad foe’s furious death blow, but not managing to stop the cultist’s reckless charge. Both swordsmen were flung away from their partners by Erik’s momentum, the impact throwing both blades from their wielder’s grip.
Mageslayer seemed to gravitate to its master’s hand, drawn back by telekinesis, but Ricter had no such luck. The priest harried his unarmed foe, throwing himself between the weasel and his blade again and again with steadily increasing control. Before he could close in for the kill, however, a ball of golden energy rocketed towards the psychic, hitting him squarely in the chest. Erik grunted as he was knocked off course and could only watch as the sword medic snatched up his blade unimpeded.
Cell was fast approaching the melee, Deadpool hot on his heels. The psychic scowled at the interruption and raised his free hand, psi pooling in his palm. The amethystine energy quickly began to swirl into a shimmering halo, hovering just above the priest’s hand. Once the chakram was complete, Erik cocked back his arm and, taking a moment to aim, hurled the razor sharp ring towards a nearby piece of rubble.
The bio-android grinned as the chakram passed harmlessly by, only for his smile to drop as his ally cried out in pain a few moments later, the psi weapon imbedded in his shoulder. The wound wasn't deep, but was enough to give Cell pause as the ring dissolved into violet mist.
“Nice shot,” Deadpool said as he reunited with his partner. “I'd say you could be a basketball player but, y’know.”
The mercenary accentuated his point by placing his hand at the crown of his head, before lowering it to Erik’s.
“Hilarious.” The psychic said dryly, wondering briefly what basketball was as he conjured up another chakram. “I hope my laughter doesn't render me defenceless.”
“Such a Gamora.” Deadpool muttered as the fighters converged towards each other once more.
“Blasted ‘modern’ machinery,” Erik cursed as he regained his bearings and kicked off the debris. “What's wrong with a flying mount?”
The psychic set his sights on the weasel warrior as he slowly adjusted to the jetpack, careful not to go flying off into space again.
“Distract the green one, I’ll take the… Furry thing.” Erik thought to Deadpool, telepathically sending his message across the void.
“You got it, just don't stay in my mind long. There's some baaaaad shit in here.” The mercenary replied as he drew his pistols and fired a few rounds towards Cell. Frustratingly, Ricter moved in between the mercenary and the bio-android, intercepting the bullets without hesitation. The cultist glanced around the arena, considering his options. Inspiration quickly struck Erik in the form of the same piece of debris he had smashed into moments before. Reaching out with his mind, the priest psionically grasped the junk before sending it to orbit above and around his foes, until the sword medic was positioned between Erik and the debris.
The weasel barely had time to react as the priest yanked the debris towards himself, pulling him along with it. With a moment’s hesitation, Erik summoned a psi blade and revved his jetpack, throwing himself towards his foe. Ricter’s mouth gaped in a silent gasp as the priest bore down on him, blade raised above his head. Just as they were about to impact each other, the psychic brought his ethereal weapon down in a devastating downwards strike. Devastating in theory, at least. Rather than cleaving the weasel in twain, the psi blade was ripped from Erik’s hand as if he had struck solid steel, quickly fading to vapour as it left its summoner’s grip.
The priest stared dumbfounded for a moment, unsure how to process what his eyes were telling him as the sword mimic slashed towards him in retaliation, cleaving Erik across his torso. The weasel’s blow had much more impact, sending the psychic reeling across the void.
“What on earth just happened?” The priest gasped to himself as he drifted through the abyss, his blood spilling out in a slow but steady spray. Erik gazed into the stars as he floated, strangely calmed by the celestial array before him. Shaking himself out of his shock, the cultist closed his eyes as he cast a prayer out into the darkness, praising his star-borne deity.
“Blessed be Father Gal’skap, highest among the old ones!” Erik roared as violet light bloomed within him, flooding his body with newfound strength. The psychic twisted his body to face his foes, reactivating the jetpack. The priest drew Mageslayer as he shot through the void towards Ricter, feeling a little more confident in his ability to maneuver the machine. The weasel raised Lanor at the last moment, deflecting his mad foe’s furious death blow, but not managing to stop the cultist’s reckless charge. Both swordsmen were flung away from their partners by Erik’s momentum, the impact throwing both blades from their wielder’s grip.
Mageslayer seemed to gravitate to its master’s hand, drawn back by telekinesis, but Ricter had no such luck. The priest harried his unarmed foe, throwing himself between the weasel and his blade again and again with steadily increasing control. Before he could close in for the kill, however, a ball of golden energy rocketed towards the psychic, hitting him squarely in the chest. Erik grunted as he was knocked off course and could only watch as the sword medic snatched up his blade unimpeded.
Cell was fast approaching the melee, Deadpool hot on his heels. The psychic scowled at the interruption and raised his free hand, psi pooling in his palm. The amethystine energy quickly began to swirl into a shimmering halo, hovering just above the priest’s hand. Once the chakram was complete, Erik cocked back his arm and, taking a moment to aim, hurled the razor sharp ring towards a nearby piece of rubble.
The bio-android grinned as the chakram passed harmlessly by, only for his smile to drop as his ally cried out in pain a few moments later, the psi weapon imbedded in his shoulder. The wound wasn't deep, but was enough to give Cell pause as the ring dissolved into violet mist.
“Nice shot,” Deadpool said as he reunited with his partner. “I'd say you could be a basketball player but, y’know.”
The mercenary accentuated his point by placing his hand at the crown of his head, before lowering it to Erik’s.
“Hilarious.” The psychic said dryly, wondering briefly what basketball was as he conjured up another chakram. “I hope my laughter doesn't render me defenceless.”
“Such a Gamora.” Deadpool muttered as the fighters converged towards each other once more.
Quote:850/850 words
Erik used psi blade, Mageslayer, psi chakram, psi overcharge for the round (-2 SP, 3/5 remaining)
Deadpool used Sig Sauer P320
Ricter used Lanor
Cell used Ki blast
*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