12-18-2015, 02:55 PM
With a wet thump, the head hit the ground.
Taking a long breath, the warrior fell to a knee, the scythe clattering to the side. For a moment, the woman enjoyed the blissful silence of the battlefield, and let the pain of her injuries overwhelm her senses.
In every round, her body had been devastated. In every battle, she had allowed herself to be torn to shreds more violently than she had ever believed possible. She was honestly rather shocked that she could stand up to such punishment and keep on chugging along. Without the fear of death, injuries seemed almost trivial. Then again, she didn’t really fear death before she was a prime, either.
Breaking her contemplative revere, she looked down at the heavy polearm and gently shook her head. “I already got too much pointy shit,” she muttered to herself, and dismissed the weapon as a trophy. Instead, her eyes locked upon the lulling head of the man she had just decapitated, the blood from his cranial cavity forming a sizable pool around her.
She snatched it up by the hair and dangled it in front of her, making note of his dull eyes that had rolled skyward and his tongue which gently sagged from his mouth. Leaning forward, she dunked the head into the water from the pit a few times, idly wiping away the small flecks of blood that remained. Something about the lifelessness of the head made something in her chest stir uncomfortably, something close enough to either disgust or guilt that she didn’t like it. Besides that, she knew that the head would soon dissipate with the body and the rest of his belongings, so something would need to be done to preserve it.
Squinting, she focused firmly, and a pearlescent flow of energy flowed from within her, infusing the macabre memento with omnilium. The eyes rolled back down and stared forward, though not particularly focused on any one thing. The tongue was slurped back inside, and a faint smile crossed his lips. She didn’t mind the faint trickle of blood that spat from the neck, and so she allowed it to remain, giving it an eternal “freshly decapitated” appearance.
She smiled to herself and admired her work, finding the severed head somehow less gruesome now that it looked more alive. “Now this is a trophy,” she said as congratulations to herself. “Now I wonder if the same trick works.”
Concentrating as she had with the polearm, she imagined the magister’s head vanishing with a poof of shadowy clouds. When it did, she was more surprised than not. “Well shit,” she gawked, “I wonder if I can do this with everything?”
Shrugging, she glanced around the arena, again waiting for the reluctant medical personnel to come to her aid. “Hey!” she shouted into the void, “This fucker isn’t gonna get anymore dead!” She waited a moment for a response, and sighed when none came.
She held out her hand and re-summoned the grizzly knick-knack, then turned it around to face her. “Well, I guess we’re waiting for the rest of your body to poof, buddy.” She turned Magus’ head around to face him, and slumped down a bit into a seated position, then buried her head into her knees. “Go on man, go. Don’t wait around for your head dude, it’s staying here with me.” She waved her hand in the limp form’s direction, shooing it away. “Go on! Get! Get out of here! I got hot dogs and beer to buy.”
Grumbling, she turned the head back around once again, “Hey man, the rest of you is being super inconsiderate. I got shit to do, and you, like, really fucked me up. Not like, cut my arm off fucked me up, but all these burns are considerably uncomfortable. Not like, ‘my body is rotting apart,’ uncomfortable, but I’m not real jacked about sitting in the cold for much longer.”
Finally, she noticed the magical barrier flicker, indicating that it had gone down, and the rushing feet of the medieval healers came almost instantly to her ears. “Ok,” she said to Magus, “here they come! Talk to you later, bro.” The dismissed the head, and it vanished in a wisp of purple and black.
She didn’t even move when the woman laid her hands upon her, the warm, glowing magic of the white mage filling her body and easing her pain. When the last of her wounds was sealed, she bounced to her feet and smiled, patting the healer on the back. “Nice work, killer,” she said warmly, ensuring to make eye contact with the secondary. She then stuffed her hands into her pockets and wandered off of the field.
Taking a long breath, the warrior fell to a knee, the scythe clattering to the side. For a moment, the woman enjoyed the blissful silence of the battlefield, and let the pain of her injuries overwhelm her senses.
In every round, her body had been devastated. In every battle, she had allowed herself to be torn to shreds more violently than she had ever believed possible. She was honestly rather shocked that she could stand up to such punishment and keep on chugging along. Without the fear of death, injuries seemed almost trivial. Then again, she didn’t really fear death before she was a prime, either.
Breaking her contemplative revere, she looked down at the heavy polearm and gently shook her head. “I already got too much pointy shit,” she muttered to herself, and dismissed the weapon as a trophy. Instead, her eyes locked upon the lulling head of the man she had just decapitated, the blood from his cranial cavity forming a sizable pool around her.
She snatched it up by the hair and dangled it in front of her, making note of his dull eyes that had rolled skyward and his tongue which gently sagged from his mouth. Leaning forward, she dunked the head into the water from the pit a few times, idly wiping away the small flecks of blood that remained. Something about the lifelessness of the head made something in her chest stir uncomfortably, something close enough to either disgust or guilt that she didn’t like it. Besides that, she knew that the head would soon dissipate with the body and the rest of his belongings, so something would need to be done to preserve it.
Squinting, she focused firmly, and a pearlescent flow of energy flowed from within her, infusing the macabre memento with omnilium. The eyes rolled back down and stared forward, though not particularly focused on any one thing. The tongue was slurped back inside, and a faint smile crossed his lips. She didn’t mind the faint trickle of blood that spat from the neck, and so she allowed it to remain, giving it an eternal “freshly decapitated” appearance.
She smiled to herself and admired her work, finding the severed head somehow less gruesome now that it looked more alive. “Now this is a trophy,” she said as congratulations to herself. “Now I wonder if the same trick works.”
Concentrating as she had with the polearm, she imagined the magister’s head vanishing with a poof of shadowy clouds. When it did, she was more surprised than not. “Well shit,” she gawked, “I wonder if I can do this with everything?”
Shrugging, she glanced around the arena, again waiting for the reluctant medical personnel to come to her aid. “Hey!” she shouted into the void, “This fucker isn’t gonna get anymore dead!” She waited a moment for a response, and sighed when none came.
She held out her hand and re-summoned the grizzly knick-knack, then turned it around to face her. “Well, I guess we’re waiting for the rest of your body to poof, buddy.” She turned Magus’ head around to face him, and slumped down a bit into a seated position, then buried her head into her knees. “Go on man, go. Don’t wait around for your head dude, it’s staying here with me.” She waved her hand in the limp form’s direction, shooing it away. “Go on! Get! Get out of here! I got hot dogs and beer to buy.”
Grumbling, she turned the head back around once again, “Hey man, the rest of you is being super inconsiderate. I got shit to do, and you, like, really fucked me up. Not like, cut my arm off fucked me up, but all these burns are considerably uncomfortable. Not like, ‘my body is rotting apart,’ uncomfortable, but I’m not real jacked about sitting in the cold for much longer.”
Finally, she noticed the magical barrier flicker, indicating that it had gone down, and the rushing feet of the medieval healers came almost instantly to her ears. “Ok,” she said to Magus, “here they come! Talk to you later, bro.” The dismissed the head, and it vanished in a wisp of purple and black.
She didn’t even move when the woman laid her hands upon her, the warm, glowing magic of the white mage filling her body and easing her pain. When the last of her wounds was sealed, she bounced to her feet and smiled, patting the healer on the back. “Nice work, killer,” she said warmly, ensuring to make eye contact with the secondary. She then stuffed her hands into her pockets and wandered off of the field.