04-29-2016, 02:32 PM
What is she doing?
I conjecture that she is challenging us.
From the bottom of the hill…
Personally, those utterances are striking. An enthralling tongue, worthy of transliteration.
Be quiet. Trying to concentrate.
The virescent gunsmith stared down at the female assassin at the bottom of the incline. She had lifted her sword up to him, her hands tightly gripped around the hilt of her blade. She slowly brought it to her torso, the blade pointed diagonally towards the ground in a combat stance. It was a rather upright display, one that any opponent would’ve respected and commended her for. After all, a fair fight was a good fight, right?
A blast of gunpowder, followed by a bullet glancing off of her katana blade, was the answer to that question. She hopped back, gasping in shock. She looked up towards Ballad, seeing a patch of smoke billowing out of his revolver.
“An honorable display…” He shouted, pulling the hammer of his revolver back, “A doltish display...”
The assassin swiftly ran forward, beginning her assault as she charged up the hill. The gunner fired, the bullet smacking into the ground near her feet. She halted, barely ducking underneath a third bullet as it grazed her head, knocking off a patch of hair. A grimace appeared on her face; it was obvious that this man had no intention of fighting in a fair and honorable manner. He thought himself above such things, didn’t he? Just like a regular old psychopath.
She rolled to the side, a bullet crashing into the ground next to her and kicking up snow as she stopped in front of a stone slab. She remained crouched and completely still, letting in a series of deep breaths. She held her katana near her side, resting her face against the grave. No sooner did she do so when the top of the slab exploded in her face, causing her to scream out in pain and shock as she fell backwards.
“For an assassin, you are a rather imbecilic combatant,” The inventor taunted, his tone still polite as he peered down at the grave the woman hid behind. Its top had been blown clean off, leaving a jagged hole, “if I hadn’t been here for hours doing the saintly work, I might’ve presumed this to be a trick of some sort.”
The soldier kept his eyes on the ravaged grave, his steel revolver aimed directly at it. He waited impatiently for her to make a move, the weight of his pistol lower than normal. He bit his lower lip. Just one bullet….
He shook his head. Of COURSE he was gonna hit her! What was he so worried about? He had a full arsenal of weapons and all she had was a stupid sword. It almost felt like an insult fighting someone so unprepared. He shouldn’t have had to deal with it, not with him busy setting his plans into motion.
That got him, or rather, SPB, thinking. The very reason he was even collecting all of those pieces of troll meat was for the dragons. SPB had predicted that the dragons had a fondness for that kind of stuff, and would listen if he gave them plenty of offerings within a short amount of time. But that was just one step out of a giant outline for the ultimate goal. Same with his rising up the rankings of the Dwarven Army. Same with the mass graves. Same with everything he had done in the Frozen Fields since he had gotten there.
It was peace. It was all for peace. And he knew from experience that there was only one way to bring it about… starting with the money-making, greedy assassin’s demise.
Finally, after a few seconds, he saw a shine reflecting off of his opponent’s sword from behind the stone grave. He thoughtlessly pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing across the landscape as the bullet jettisoned out from the barrel, barreling towards her.
The bullet smashed into the hill, missing the sword completely. His eyes widened, seeing the lady slide the sword back down, a smirk on her face. She quickly leaped over the stone grave, rushing up the hill. She was already halfway there by the time he had given any thought to change weapons. He quickly stashed his revolver inside his holster, moving his hands to the hilt of his pickaxe.
“I will acknowledge a cunning fetch when I observe one, o assassin. Alas, that is all you possess besides your blade,” he mocked, readying himself to block her incoming attacks.
I conjecture that she is challenging us.
From the bottom of the hill…
Personally, those utterances are striking. An enthralling tongue, worthy of transliteration.
Be quiet. Trying to concentrate.
The virescent gunsmith stared down at the female assassin at the bottom of the incline. She had lifted her sword up to him, her hands tightly gripped around the hilt of her blade. She slowly brought it to her torso, the blade pointed diagonally towards the ground in a combat stance. It was a rather upright display, one that any opponent would’ve respected and commended her for. After all, a fair fight was a good fight, right?
A blast of gunpowder, followed by a bullet glancing off of her katana blade, was the answer to that question. She hopped back, gasping in shock. She looked up towards Ballad, seeing a patch of smoke billowing out of his revolver.
“An honorable display…” He shouted, pulling the hammer of his revolver back, “A doltish display...”
The assassin swiftly ran forward, beginning her assault as she charged up the hill. The gunner fired, the bullet smacking into the ground near her feet. She halted, barely ducking underneath a third bullet as it grazed her head, knocking off a patch of hair. A grimace appeared on her face; it was obvious that this man had no intention of fighting in a fair and honorable manner. He thought himself above such things, didn’t he? Just like a regular old psychopath.
She rolled to the side, a bullet crashing into the ground next to her and kicking up snow as she stopped in front of a stone slab. She remained crouched and completely still, letting in a series of deep breaths. She held her katana near her side, resting her face against the grave. No sooner did she do so when the top of the slab exploded in her face, causing her to scream out in pain and shock as she fell backwards.
“For an assassin, you are a rather imbecilic combatant,” The inventor taunted, his tone still polite as he peered down at the grave the woman hid behind. Its top had been blown clean off, leaving a jagged hole, “if I hadn’t been here for hours doing the saintly work, I might’ve presumed this to be a trick of some sort.”
The soldier kept his eyes on the ravaged grave, his steel revolver aimed directly at it. He waited impatiently for her to make a move, the weight of his pistol lower than normal. He bit his lower lip. Just one bullet….
He shook his head. Of COURSE he was gonna hit her! What was he so worried about? He had a full arsenal of weapons and all she had was a stupid sword. It almost felt like an insult fighting someone so unprepared. He shouldn’t have had to deal with it, not with him busy setting his plans into motion.
That got him, or rather, SPB, thinking. The very reason he was even collecting all of those pieces of troll meat was for the dragons. SPB had predicted that the dragons had a fondness for that kind of stuff, and would listen if he gave them plenty of offerings within a short amount of time. But that was just one step out of a giant outline for the ultimate goal. Same with his rising up the rankings of the Dwarven Army. Same with the mass graves. Same with everything he had done in the Frozen Fields since he had gotten there.
It was peace. It was all for peace. And he knew from experience that there was only one way to bring it about… starting with the money-making, greedy assassin’s demise.
Finally, after a few seconds, he saw a shine reflecting off of his opponent’s sword from behind the stone grave. He thoughtlessly pulled the trigger, the gunshot echoing across the landscape as the bullet jettisoned out from the barrel, barreling towards her.
The bullet smashed into the hill, missing the sword completely. His eyes widened, seeing the lady slide the sword back down, a smirk on her face. She quickly leaped over the stone grave, rushing up the hill. She was already halfway there by the time he had given any thought to change weapons. He quickly stashed his revolver inside his holster, moving his hands to the hilt of his pickaxe.
“I will acknowledge a cunning fetch when I observe one, o assassin. Alas, that is all you possess besides your blade,” he mocked, readying himself to block her incoming attacks.
Quote: Wrote:Word Count: 763
Powers Used: Foresight (Akame)
Moves Used: .480 Revolver (Ballad), Pickaxe (Ballad)
Round 1 Post for Ballad complete! Next goes to you Akame!
C&C Thread
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New to OV? Need a question answered? Want a C&C of your work? Send a PM to me!
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