10-04-2015, 11:23 PM
Comrade against comrade, friend against friend, the madness-induced battle raged on. Having taken cover behind a large oak vanity with a built-in mirror, Clayton had mostly abstained from engaging in the firefight after the initial exchanges. Not that he wasn't eager to — infighting such as this was a perfect opportunity to 'accidentally' get rid of a few undesirables. And it certainly wasn't because Klaud constantly intervened and told him not to. If there was anyone he would put out of their pitiful misery with great pleasure, it was the exorcist and her yet unborn offspring.
But much as he wished to put an end to his buffoonish companions, the hunter permitted them to 'play' amongst themselves so he could turn his attention to far greater prey — the celestial creature in front of them. The Swamp of Sorrows and the Angel itself....both had brought long buried memories back into the forefront, that fateful morning in the English countryside replaying in his mind again and again. As he contemplated about the matter, he was reminded of the reason behind that chain of events, the reason behind the madness that had driven Charles Muntz to extremes that ultimately lead to his baby sister's demise....that bloody bird.
Ever since he had been brought into the Omniverse, Clayton thought that his opportunity to make his brother-in-law pay for what he had done had passed. There was little he could do to the man directly from where he was. The hunter didn't even have the satisfaction of the thought that Muntz might fail to find the creature — given that Mary had witnessed it as well, it was unlikely that the adventurer was chasing a mere phantom. And Clayton knew Charles well enough to know that, given enough time, he was capable of finding even the rarest of species.
It seemed as though any avenue for vengeance had been lost...but the heavenly entity he now faced presented the hunter with a unique opportunity. If he could vanquish the creature and claim it as his prize, if he could show it to the world and marginalise Muntz's discoveries in one fell swoop...A twisted grin played on the moustached man's face. Yes, that would be the perfect revenge.
Aiming his firearm at the target, Clayton took a few potshots, attempting to discover a weakness in the Angel's defences. But all his attempts failed, the bullets bouncing off of the force field harmlessly. The hunter didn't know what aggravated him more: his inability to harm the creature or the fact that it continued to regard him with complete indifference. Unrelenting in his attempts, he loaded more ammo into the chamber of his rifle...
Suddenly, he noticed some sort of movement in the corner of his eyes.
***
It was that Damned wooden boy. In his mahogany fingers, a woodworker’s knife. Before the hunter knew it, he was defending himself against this.. this... Atrocity! He used his musket to defend against the silver slicer before getting a deep laceration along his arm. His shirt was stained with blood, and ripped along the same growing crimson line. The pain however, did not effect him. Only the adrenaline coursed through him now. A blast perpetuated wood chips around him and Pinocchio lost an arm.
“How appropriate for a puppet to be pulled by its strings.” Clayton called to him, victoriously, but the boy still had fight in him. Angered by the too similar sound of laughing children which rang in his ears, the boy was sent back to the past, recalling the reason he wanted to live. Not just to live as a puppet, but to live as a real boy. He made sure his one armed punches felt real, as Clayton was kneed in the crotch.
“Stop it, you... you...” the puppet struggled for the word, as the Angel’s conviction swayed the puppet’s conscience.
“Gosh-varmint !” Clayton hobbled as he used the rifle to parry the next melee before Clayton shuffled away, his eyes, horrified at the spear coming for him. Yet, the boy had just launched it. Surely, the hunter would have just enough time to take aim, fire, before dodging out of the way. Instinct took over his muscles before he could protest. And suddenly, Pinocchio’s head exploded in a bang.
Top Man’s moves were still bustin’ when he bumped into Clayton, preventing the dodge. Meanwhile, the spear thrown by the puppet, picked up speed and it’s velocity, due to the abstract room, picked up with an astounding force. Suddenly, the hunter’s heart was skewered, while his eyes remained on his to-be trophy, the Angel and the girl who was able to pierce it’s bubble. Christa was sent shocking backward at least ten feet and behind the angel’s spread of light, was the gate to Omni.
Clayton, struggled against the weight of the spear, however something suddenly was knocked in his way. The mirror of vanity, suddenly shattered by his own might, broke with the same gravity and strength that kept him standing. The last thing the hunter saw were his own vacant eyes, that reminded him of Mary’s.
...
The group moved for the door, helping eachother up and others’ mind’s hopping from the haze of madness they had endured. The injured hung off of the arm’s of the less-injured, and all, despite their grievances, moved together.
Top Man’s beat came down to an epic finale, as the other’s found themselves, and could only imagine by the aftermath, the damage they had done. Yet, the Angel was vanquished.
Abner scooped Christa up, who he had determined was - and had to be - still alive to make it to Omni. The girl was slung easily on his back, and he hurried off with the rest.
Each moved swiftly, as they took one last look around the black abyss. No one looked back as the gate warped behind them.
But much as he wished to put an end to his buffoonish companions, the hunter permitted them to 'play' amongst themselves so he could turn his attention to far greater prey — the celestial creature in front of them. The Swamp of Sorrows and the Angel itself....both had brought long buried memories back into the forefront, that fateful morning in the English countryside replaying in his mind again and again. As he contemplated about the matter, he was reminded of the reason behind that chain of events, the reason behind the madness that had driven Charles Muntz to extremes that ultimately lead to his baby sister's demise....that bloody bird.
Ever since he had been brought into the Omniverse, Clayton thought that his opportunity to make his brother-in-law pay for what he had done had passed. There was little he could do to the man directly from where he was. The hunter didn't even have the satisfaction of the thought that Muntz might fail to find the creature — given that Mary had witnessed it as well, it was unlikely that the adventurer was chasing a mere phantom. And Clayton knew Charles well enough to know that, given enough time, he was capable of finding even the rarest of species.
It seemed as though any avenue for vengeance had been lost...but the heavenly entity he now faced presented the hunter with a unique opportunity. If he could vanquish the creature and claim it as his prize, if he could show it to the world and marginalise Muntz's discoveries in one fell swoop...A twisted grin played on the moustached man's face. Yes, that would be the perfect revenge.
Aiming his firearm at the target, Clayton took a few potshots, attempting to discover a weakness in the Angel's defences. But all his attempts failed, the bullets bouncing off of the force field harmlessly. The hunter didn't know what aggravated him more: his inability to harm the creature or the fact that it continued to regard him with complete indifference. Unrelenting in his attempts, he loaded more ammo into the chamber of his rifle...
Suddenly, he noticed some sort of movement in the corner of his eyes.
***
It was that Damned wooden boy. In his mahogany fingers, a woodworker’s knife. Before the hunter knew it, he was defending himself against this.. this... Atrocity! He used his musket to defend against the silver slicer before getting a deep laceration along his arm. His shirt was stained with blood, and ripped along the same growing crimson line. The pain however, did not effect him. Only the adrenaline coursed through him now. A blast perpetuated wood chips around him and Pinocchio lost an arm.
“How appropriate for a puppet to be pulled by its strings.” Clayton called to him, victoriously, but the boy still had fight in him. Angered by the too similar sound of laughing children which rang in his ears, the boy was sent back to the past, recalling the reason he wanted to live. Not just to live as a puppet, but to live as a real boy. He made sure his one armed punches felt real, as Clayton was kneed in the crotch.
“Stop it, you... you...” the puppet struggled for the word, as the Angel’s conviction swayed the puppet’s conscience.
“Gosh-varmint !” Clayton hobbled as he used the rifle to parry the next melee before Clayton shuffled away, his eyes, horrified at the spear coming for him. Yet, the boy had just launched it. Surely, the hunter would have just enough time to take aim, fire, before dodging out of the way. Instinct took over his muscles before he could protest. And suddenly, Pinocchio’s head exploded in a bang.
Top Man’s moves were still bustin’ when he bumped into Clayton, preventing the dodge. Meanwhile, the spear thrown by the puppet, picked up speed and it’s velocity, due to the abstract room, picked up with an astounding force. Suddenly, the hunter’s heart was skewered, while his eyes remained on his to-be trophy, the Angel and the girl who was able to pierce it’s bubble. Christa was sent shocking backward at least ten feet and behind the angel’s spread of light, was the gate to Omni.
Clayton, struggled against the weight of the spear, however something suddenly was knocked in his way. The mirror of vanity, suddenly shattered by his own might, broke with the same gravity and strength that kept him standing. The last thing the hunter saw were his own vacant eyes, that reminded him of Mary’s.
...
The group moved for the door, helping eachother up and others’ mind’s hopping from the haze of madness they had endured. The injured hung off of the arm’s of the less-injured, and all, despite their grievances, moved together.
Top Man’s beat came down to an epic finale, as the other’s found themselves, and could only imagine by the aftermath, the damage they had done. Yet, the Angel was vanquished.
Abner scooped Christa up, who he had determined was - and had to be - still alive to make it to Omni. The girl was slung easily on his back, and he hurried off with the rest.
Each moved swiftly, as they took one last look around the black abyss. No one looked back as the gate warped behind them.
Quote:Feel free to write your “recap” of what your character does in the “above” in the Oververse thread as well. I didn’t want to write something in a way you would have preferred to, so I left it somewhat open.
There were two deaths this round, due to inactivity. Pinocchio and Clayton have died, and I was really sad to see them go. You both did a nice job guys!
Lastly, I’ll put up the injuries in the post below this, but I hesitate to say that it doesn’t matter the rest of you guys just made it to the oververse. Stay tuned for what is in store!