12-03-2015, 09:09 PM
Coughing gently, the steel-spiked warrior waved her hand, banishing the smoking miasma that still drifted from her chest. She pushed herself from the wide indentation she’s made in the hill, thick clumps of white tumbling from the harsh edges that protruded from every angle of her armor. She rolled her shoulders back and forth then dipped her head to the side, eliciting a series of loud cracks.
Her skull adornment grew teeth as she grinned, and her low voice confidently rumbled, “I made a life out of killin’ Primes that think they’re better than me.” She ejected the energy cell from her rifle, smoothly slapping another one in its place. “You’re just the next name on a long list, pal.”
The woman lifted her rifle, sighting down the third goddamn magic-guy she’d fought in the tournament. She took a step forward, the snow squeaking beneath her heavy boot as she-
The battle-hardened raider stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, her attention dropped from her target to the ground below her, to the carpet of ivory that swept in every direction. Her eyes went wide and she tossed her weapon away, falling to her knees dramatically.
“I didn’t even notice,” she said in shock. She drove her fingers into the wet powder, wriggling them beneath the crust. “It’s…” she whispered to herself, “cold.”
What had once been a maniacal grin softened into what might have legitimately been called a smile. She rolled her armored hands through the drift, collecting it into a small pile just in front of her lap. “Oh man, is this snow?” she asked with as much innocence as her brutal life had left to offer her. Leaning in, she gingerly touched her nose to it, giving a genuine laugh when a tiny spot clung to her skin.
“This is totally snow!” she shouted, looking up to her ever-advancing opponent. “I’ve never seen snow before!” she exclaimed to the disinterested magi. “It never got cold – or wet – enough in the Dunes.”
She joyously collected the pile into a wad, crushing it down into a firmly-packed ball. She admired her creation, lumpy and flat, the indentation of her fingers giving it texture. Cautiously, she extended her tongue until it tapped the mound, instantly melting a patch. Her head jolted back as the sharp, almost tangy flavor flooded her mouth. “This is gonna be so much fun!” she yammered exuberantly.
She scrambled to stand, her feet sliding over the ice of the knoll. “The air sounds sounds different, too, right?” A childish look of glee washed over her when she faced Magus, now only a few meters away. She squared her shoulders, cocked her hand back, and playfully threw the snowball.
The skillful Fiendlord easily swayed out of the ball’s path. The woman bent at the hips and curled another into her hand, patting it down. “C’mon! Isn’t this some seriously awesome shit?”
Magus simply lifted his hand. “No,” he snarled, a blob of twisted magic writhing into existence in his palm.
“Fine,” she sighed, bounding away from the projectile, “you fuckin’ spoil sport.” Reeling back, she cupped the snowball with both hands then torqued her entire powerful frame into a pitcher’s throw. The powdery sphere struck the pale-skinned man with enough force to lift him into the air and onto his back, his shoes pointed towards the sky.
She shook her head gently, retrieving her rifle from the ground, “I guess we gotta be all serious.” She replaced the weapon on her shoulder and glared down the sight-posts once again. “What happened to your whimsy?” she scolded, popping off a few of the super-heated beams into the snow around him.
“Where did all you grumpy fucks come from?” she complained, clipping the AER9 into its sling and drawing the oversized mallet from the harness. “Every damn round I’ve been stuck with some uppity asshole.”
The engine roared, flames scorching through the snow-dusted air as she charged forward. Magus quickly rolled to from the churning hammer’s path and into a fighting stance. He sneered, his cloak flourishing dramatically as another sphere of dark energy was gathered between his fingers. She parried a sudden swing of the scythe, only to catch the dark sphere in the gut. This time her toes clung to the ground, leaving two trenches in the snow as she slid.
Her heels to hit the ground and she continued. “The funnest person I’ve met at this recreational event was some plague-pot. What the fuck, man?!”
Her skull adornment grew teeth as she grinned, and her low voice confidently rumbled, “I made a life out of killin’ Primes that think they’re better than me.” She ejected the energy cell from her rifle, smoothly slapping another one in its place. “You’re just the next name on a long list, pal.”
The woman lifted her rifle, sighting down the third goddamn magic-guy she’d fought in the tournament. She took a step forward, the snow squeaking beneath her heavy boot as she-
The battle-hardened raider stopped dead in her tracks. Slowly, her attention dropped from her target to the ground below her, to the carpet of ivory that swept in every direction. Her eyes went wide and she tossed her weapon away, falling to her knees dramatically.
“I didn’t even notice,” she said in shock. She drove her fingers into the wet powder, wriggling them beneath the crust. “It’s…” she whispered to herself, “cold.”
What had once been a maniacal grin softened into what might have legitimately been called a smile. She rolled her armored hands through the drift, collecting it into a small pile just in front of her lap. “Oh man, is this snow?” she asked with as much innocence as her brutal life had left to offer her. Leaning in, she gingerly touched her nose to it, giving a genuine laugh when a tiny spot clung to her skin.
“This is totally snow!” she shouted, looking up to her ever-advancing opponent. “I’ve never seen snow before!” she exclaimed to the disinterested magi. “It never got cold – or wet – enough in the Dunes.”
She joyously collected the pile into a wad, crushing it down into a firmly-packed ball. She admired her creation, lumpy and flat, the indentation of her fingers giving it texture. Cautiously, she extended her tongue until it tapped the mound, instantly melting a patch. Her head jolted back as the sharp, almost tangy flavor flooded her mouth. “This is gonna be so much fun!” she yammered exuberantly.
She scrambled to stand, her feet sliding over the ice of the knoll. “The air sounds sounds different, too, right?” A childish look of glee washed over her when she faced Magus, now only a few meters away. She squared her shoulders, cocked her hand back, and playfully threw the snowball.
The skillful Fiendlord easily swayed out of the ball’s path. The woman bent at the hips and curled another into her hand, patting it down. “C’mon! Isn’t this some seriously awesome shit?”
Magus simply lifted his hand. “No,” he snarled, a blob of twisted magic writhing into existence in his palm.
“Fine,” she sighed, bounding away from the projectile, “you fuckin’ spoil sport.” Reeling back, she cupped the snowball with both hands then torqued her entire powerful frame into a pitcher’s throw. The powdery sphere struck the pale-skinned man with enough force to lift him into the air and onto his back, his shoes pointed towards the sky.
She shook her head gently, retrieving her rifle from the ground, “I guess we gotta be all serious.” She replaced the weapon on her shoulder and glared down the sight-posts once again. “What happened to your whimsy?” she scolded, popping off a few of the super-heated beams into the snow around him.
“Where did all you grumpy fucks come from?” she complained, clipping the AER9 into its sling and drawing the oversized mallet from the harness. “Every damn round I’ve been stuck with some uppity asshole.”
The engine roared, flames scorching through the snow-dusted air as she charged forward. Magus quickly rolled to from the churning hammer’s path and into a fighting stance. He sneered, his cloak flourishing dramatically as another sphere of dark energy was gathered between his fingers. She parried a sudden swing of the scythe, only to catch the dark sphere in the gut. This time her toes clung to the ground, leaving two trenches in the snow as she slid.
Her heels to hit the ground and she continued. “The funnest person I’ve met at this recreational event was some plague-pot. What the fuck, man?!”
Quote:750 words exactly, thanks to wordcounter.net
Hope I got your character too, dude! Fun fight so far.