04-14-2015, 02:17 AM
Well, apparently Alain was alive after all. How, Aang had no idea, but he was certainly relieved nonetheless. His ineffective Tarraqtics notwithstanding, the more primes still standing the better, and the beast seemed to be beginning to show its one true weakness other than, of course, the heart. It was so obvious now, and Aang mentally hit himself a few times for overlooking the most basic flaw of the beast - It would infinitely regenerate. And it couldn't stop itself. Or if it could, somehow, it certainly would never consciously choose to. It also bled lava, and lava is a substance that seems to have a few rather immutable properties - such as its tendency to cool off and thicken. Granted, the Tarrasque's skin was seemingly hot enough to keep that process at bay, but not forever, and as of yet, the creature hadn't stayed in place for any period of time long enough to make use of this quirk.
The stench of the great hulking beast again engulfed Aang as he sprinted to its new location, only increasing as he gained on it and as more temporary wounds collected on the thing's legs. It was now veritably wading through its own blood, though it wouldn't be for long - At this rate, someone or another would lure the creature away again in an attempt to gain some imperceptible advantage through stalling for time. That may have been good before, while they were still gathering knowledge and still had holy power-infused explosives to plant, but that was no longer the case and the ragtag crew of primes old and new needed to stand their ground here, once and for all, else they be rapidly and inarguably consumed with hasty.
"Alain! Everyone! Stop running!" Sweat dribbled down Aang's face and body, his injured arm hanging uncomfortably limp at his side and his frame slumped sideways to compensate. He was a great runner, being an airbender and all, but the dry, extreme heat of the air around him was causing him to pant and perspire like never before. A crack of sharp pain ran through his throat, serving only to highlight its parched state and said situation's incongruity with loud shouting. "We have to keep it here!" Another cough, this time accompanied by a hacking gulp of desert-dry wind in a feeble attempt to return moisture to the throat and continue his warning. "I'll distract it, just don't -" *wheeze* "- D-don't run! Don't let it chase you! I'll -" This time, a phlegm-filled gag, causing Aang to trip, ending up kneeling beside the snarling maw of the malificent brute. He muttered unintelligibly under his breath for a moment before adding, "I'll distract it from the front."
The Tarrasque had noticed him. It would've been quite the surprise had it not, considering their relative locations and Aang's current aura of weakness. It almost seemed the beast could sense his useless arm and screaming lungs just as well as a shark might blood in the water, or an airbender the shifting breeze. A monstrous claw, twisted in nature and showing only the barest scars of its injuries of but a few minutes before, came crashing down at him, and he shot up, just barely managing to only be grazed by the surprisingly rapid appendage. No glider. Only airbending. As the other claw came swiping from the side, a gust of scorched air hit Aang in the back, propelling him forwards out of the way of certain death and onto an unstable perch on the creature's spine.
"Slash the legs! Get its feet stuck in its own blood! Then we can aim for the heart!" That was the last phrase he uttered before no more sound would come out. His voice was now officially off-limits, it would seem. More restrictions.
The Tarrasque was getting bored of the buzzing gnat on its back, and its attention was again returned to the slightly meatier leeches now surrounding him on the ground. Aang's precarious perch lurched dangerously as the beast spun to face a different adversary, and he was forced to use his one good arm in grabbing the monster's spine to postpone his inevitable fall from glory. At least a few of his teammates seemed to have gotten the message, and so Aang was content in his observation having been appropriately received. Now, he could go back to actually carrying out what he preached...
The now effectively one-armed, mute twelve-year-old let go of the burning handhold and flopped to the nearly-equally-scorched ground after a rather bumpy 50-foot decline. His face landed square in the dirt, only inches away from the ever-growing pool of lava emanating from the underside of the atrocious lizard; had he had hair, it would surely have been rapidly set aflame by sheer proximity. Aang scampered to his feet, quickly shuffling back a few feet, and looked up to find himself under the left of the creature's belly. Don't let it move. He gave himself a quick shake to ease his newly-found full-body stiffness at the hands of a living cliff, though an ache of the same cause would not so easily be hindered. Do not give in. Teeth gritted and eyebrows crossed, the young and bruised airbender called upon an old favorite - the Air Scooter.
The air, as Aang had discovered, cared little about a person's pain, suffering, or injuries, and would yield to experienced benders with little effort provided the necessary motions to control it were still possible. The air was a neutral force, and didn't much care for the goals, necessities and futures of men. It did, however, resent being torn asunder by the unnatural heat and the unbearable stench, being forced into impurity by such abominations of nature as that about which it had eddied around the Pale Moors for far too long now. As such, it gave in more willingly than usual to Aang's beckoning, forming almost on its own into a whirling, scathing sphere of searing airstreams working together with the parallel purposes of propelling the battered youngling onward and lashing out vengefully at any other power which might dare reckon with the primordial force of the winds.
Soon enough, the Avatar, oblivious in his suffering to the cries and exclamations and urgings of the others on his side, came again to the front end of the Tarrasque, this time glaring up at it head-on in direct defiance of its power. He would be the bait, the others the hook. He would keep the thing bound in place as the rest secured its fate in Hell. Though he couldn't say it as he perched upon his round, writhing throne, determination his only emotion and pain a thing of the past, a single phrase flowed through his mind, overtaking all else and freezing time for the briefest of moments as everything around him but his fiercest adversary disappeared into grey nothingness: "Come at me."
The stench of the great hulking beast again engulfed Aang as he sprinted to its new location, only increasing as he gained on it and as more temporary wounds collected on the thing's legs. It was now veritably wading through its own blood, though it wouldn't be for long - At this rate, someone or another would lure the creature away again in an attempt to gain some imperceptible advantage through stalling for time. That may have been good before, while they were still gathering knowledge and still had holy power-infused explosives to plant, but that was no longer the case and the ragtag crew of primes old and new needed to stand their ground here, once and for all, else they be rapidly and inarguably consumed with hasty.
"Alain! Everyone! Stop running!" Sweat dribbled down Aang's face and body, his injured arm hanging uncomfortably limp at his side and his frame slumped sideways to compensate. He was a great runner, being an airbender and all, but the dry, extreme heat of the air around him was causing him to pant and perspire like never before. A crack of sharp pain ran through his throat, serving only to highlight its parched state and said situation's incongruity with loud shouting. "We have to keep it here!" Another cough, this time accompanied by a hacking gulp of desert-dry wind in a feeble attempt to return moisture to the throat and continue his warning. "I'll distract it, just don't -" *wheeze* "- D-don't run! Don't let it chase you! I'll -" This time, a phlegm-filled gag, causing Aang to trip, ending up kneeling beside the snarling maw of the malificent brute. He muttered unintelligibly under his breath for a moment before adding, "I'll distract it from the front."
The Tarrasque had noticed him. It would've been quite the surprise had it not, considering their relative locations and Aang's current aura of weakness. It almost seemed the beast could sense his useless arm and screaming lungs just as well as a shark might blood in the water, or an airbender the shifting breeze. A monstrous claw, twisted in nature and showing only the barest scars of its injuries of but a few minutes before, came crashing down at him, and he shot up, just barely managing to only be grazed by the surprisingly rapid appendage. No glider. Only airbending. As the other claw came swiping from the side, a gust of scorched air hit Aang in the back, propelling him forwards out of the way of certain death and onto an unstable perch on the creature's spine.
"Slash the legs! Get its feet stuck in its own blood! Then we can aim for the heart!" That was the last phrase he uttered before no more sound would come out. His voice was now officially off-limits, it would seem. More restrictions.
The Tarrasque was getting bored of the buzzing gnat on its back, and its attention was again returned to the slightly meatier leeches now surrounding him on the ground. Aang's precarious perch lurched dangerously as the beast spun to face a different adversary, and he was forced to use his one good arm in grabbing the monster's spine to postpone his inevitable fall from glory. At least a few of his teammates seemed to have gotten the message, and so Aang was content in his observation having been appropriately received. Now, he could go back to actually carrying out what he preached...
The now effectively one-armed, mute twelve-year-old let go of the burning handhold and flopped to the nearly-equally-scorched ground after a rather bumpy 50-foot decline. His face landed square in the dirt, only inches away from the ever-growing pool of lava emanating from the underside of the atrocious lizard; had he had hair, it would surely have been rapidly set aflame by sheer proximity. Aang scampered to his feet, quickly shuffling back a few feet, and looked up to find himself under the left of the creature's belly. Don't let it move. He gave himself a quick shake to ease his newly-found full-body stiffness at the hands of a living cliff, though an ache of the same cause would not so easily be hindered. Do not give in. Teeth gritted and eyebrows crossed, the young and bruised airbender called upon an old favorite - the Air Scooter.
The air, as Aang had discovered, cared little about a person's pain, suffering, or injuries, and would yield to experienced benders with little effort provided the necessary motions to control it were still possible. The air was a neutral force, and didn't much care for the goals, necessities and futures of men. It did, however, resent being torn asunder by the unnatural heat and the unbearable stench, being forced into impurity by such abominations of nature as that about which it had eddied around the Pale Moors for far too long now. As such, it gave in more willingly than usual to Aang's beckoning, forming almost on its own into a whirling, scathing sphere of searing airstreams working together with the parallel purposes of propelling the battered youngling onward and lashing out vengefully at any other power which might dare reckon with the primordial force of the winds.
Soon enough, the Avatar, oblivious in his suffering to the cries and exclamations and urgings of the others on his side, came again to the front end of the Tarrasque, this time glaring up at it head-on in direct defiance of its power. He would be the bait, the others the hook. He would keep the thing bound in place as the rest secured its fate in Hell. Though he couldn't say it as he perched upon his round, writhing throne, determination his only emotion and pain a thing of the past, a single phrase flowed through his mind, overtaking all else and freezing time for the briefest of moments as everything around him but his fiercest adversary disappeared into grey nothingness: "Come at me."
![[Image: Om484Nd.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/Om484Nd.gif)