10-18-2016, 10:02 PM
Now you’ve gone and done it.
Somerled could already imagine the reaming out he would get from his other half as the blade slid the last part of the way through his neck. He already wasn’t looking very pretty, if the total lack of vision from his right eye and the copious amounts of blood spewing everywhere was anything to go by. This, however, was a whole new level of fucked. With another round of squelching sounds, which the monster felt uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of, the sword was pulled out from his throat again, leaving only a few last tendrils of flesh holding everything together.
Of course, just to freak out the knight, he really wanted to say something along the lines of ‘last I checked I’m not a dullahan.’ Unfortunately, his horribly severed windpipe prevented that from happening. It was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe.
Fortunately, he could at least do one thing to make this motherfucker piss himself. He ripped his legs forward, tearing them from the bent aluminum his adversary had skewered them on. Slowly, he rose to his full height, head balancing precariously atop his neck. Though he was still a great deal shorter than the towering armor, him just standing up like that made it stumble backwards.
Granted it took all of a second for the knight to get its wits back about it, but it was a good attempt. The metallic behemoth surged forward, sword poised and ready to strike.
KRA-KOOM
Thunder blasted down the mall, echoing to the ends and back, slowly fading away. The monster’s foe was slammed into the wall behind it, breastplate almost entirely caved in. Somerled dropped his right arm back to his side, mangled hand and all. His left was now raised up to his head, keeping that firmly in place atop his neck. He still needed to see, after all.
The metallic form of his adversary shuddered, scraping against concrete as it slowly moved, as if trying to get its bearings again. As much as the storm spirit wanted to rush forward and peel that carapace open, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Full Dullahan.
Somerled braced himself, turning back around to the kiosk he had just been impaled on. His one good eye scanned the wreckage, picking out a small beam jutting out of some of the wiring. He reached out, right hand closing around it with barely enough force. Apparently that strike had done quite a number on his bones. With a harsh shriek, the metal bar came loose. Fingers closed, grasping his hair as tight as they could. He raised the metal bar up, well above his head. Silently, he counted down from three, arms trembling.
Zero.
With three quick, if hasty motions, he tore his head entirely off, severing the last few fleshy strands, drove the metal bar approximately halfway down his neck, and then promptly impaled his head on it. The monster’s face contorted into a diabolic grin. He may not have any neck movement for now, but fuck he was good.
Somerled turned back towards his opponent, slowly, unsteadily. On wobbly legs, his weight uneven, he strode towards the toppled armor. The knight offered little in the way of resistance as the storm spirit fell onto it, fingers digging into the cracks and crevices between the arm pieces. Muscles straining, he pulled the pieces on both arms loose, metal creaking with every inch it gave. The enemy grabbed at the monster, getting a second wind with that weight lifted.
Steel gauntlets dug into Somerled’s face, probing for a grasp anywhere. He planted his right hand against the armor’s breastplate, left hand closing around his foe’s now-revealed right bicep. The metal of the breastplate squealed, caving further inwards with the pressure of the monster’s grasp. Flesh and meat slowly and steadily gave away before, with a delicious ripping sound, the knight’s arm came off completely. A primal, inhuman scream escaped the confines of the armor.
Tossing the severed appendage aside, Somerled’s fingers dug into more openings with renewed vigor. The last gauntlet continued to tear at the monster’s face, gouging deeper into the skin as the breastplate began to give with its own shriek. As the steel plate gave away more, curving outwards inch by inch, the hand finally found a firm grasp in the form of the spirit’s lower jaw, and slowly but surely, it began to slide his head back up the aluminum strut.
Teeth ground against the steel fingers, desperately trying to bite through as Somerled continued prying the armor open, hoping to get at the fleshy body underneath. One hand raised up in a panic, the other continuing to peel at the armor. If he could just get one good strike at that chest, it would all be over. His power surged forward, electricity pulsing up his arm.
Just one good strike.
Somerled could already imagine the reaming out he would get from his other half as the blade slid the last part of the way through his neck. He already wasn’t looking very pretty, if the total lack of vision from his right eye and the copious amounts of blood spewing everywhere was anything to go by. This, however, was a whole new level of fucked. With another round of squelching sounds, which the monster felt uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of, the sword was pulled out from his throat again, leaving only a few last tendrils of flesh holding everything together.
Of course, just to freak out the knight, he really wanted to say something along the lines of ‘last I checked I’m not a dullahan.’ Unfortunately, his horribly severed windpipe prevented that from happening. It was a good thing he didn’t need to breathe.
Fortunately, he could at least do one thing to make this motherfucker piss himself. He ripped his legs forward, tearing them from the bent aluminum his adversary had skewered them on. Slowly, he rose to his full height, head balancing precariously atop his neck. Though he was still a great deal shorter than the towering armor, him just standing up like that made it stumble backwards.
Granted it took all of a second for the knight to get its wits back about it, but it was a good attempt. The metallic behemoth surged forward, sword poised and ready to strike.
KRA-KOOM
Thunder blasted down the mall, echoing to the ends and back, slowly fading away. The monster’s foe was slammed into the wall behind it, breastplate almost entirely caved in. Somerled dropped his right arm back to his side, mangled hand and all. His left was now raised up to his head, keeping that firmly in place atop his neck. He still needed to see, after all.
The metallic form of his adversary shuddered, scraping against concrete as it slowly moved, as if trying to get its bearings again. As much as the storm spirit wanted to rush forward and peel that carapace open, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
Full Dullahan.
Somerled braced himself, turning back around to the kiosk he had just been impaled on. His one good eye scanned the wreckage, picking out a small beam jutting out of some of the wiring. He reached out, right hand closing around it with barely enough force. Apparently that strike had done quite a number on his bones. With a harsh shriek, the metal bar came loose. Fingers closed, grasping his hair as tight as they could. He raised the metal bar up, well above his head. Silently, he counted down from three, arms trembling.
Zero.
With three quick, if hasty motions, he tore his head entirely off, severing the last few fleshy strands, drove the metal bar approximately halfway down his neck, and then promptly impaled his head on it. The monster’s face contorted into a diabolic grin. He may not have any neck movement for now, but fuck he was good.
Somerled turned back towards his opponent, slowly, unsteadily. On wobbly legs, his weight uneven, he strode towards the toppled armor. The knight offered little in the way of resistance as the storm spirit fell onto it, fingers digging into the cracks and crevices between the arm pieces. Muscles straining, he pulled the pieces on both arms loose, metal creaking with every inch it gave. The enemy grabbed at the monster, getting a second wind with that weight lifted.
Steel gauntlets dug into Somerled’s face, probing for a grasp anywhere. He planted his right hand against the armor’s breastplate, left hand closing around his foe’s now-revealed right bicep. The metal of the breastplate squealed, caving further inwards with the pressure of the monster’s grasp. Flesh and meat slowly and steadily gave away before, with a delicious ripping sound, the knight’s arm came off completely. A primal, inhuman scream escaped the confines of the armor.
Tossing the severed appendage aside, Somerled’s fingers dug into more openings with renewed vigor. The last gauntlet continued to tear at the monster’s face, gouging deeper into the skin as the breastplate began to give with its own shriek. As the steel plate gave away more, curving outwards inch by inch, the hand finally found a firm grasp in the form of the spirit’s lower jaw, and slowly but surely, it began to slide his head back up the aluminum strut.
Teeth ground against the steel fingers, desperately trying to bite through as Somerled continued prying the armor open, hoping to get at the fleshy body underneath. One hand raised up in a panic, the other continuing to peel at the armor. If he could just get one good strike at that chest, it would all be over. His power surged forward, electricity pulsing up his arm.
Just one good strike.
Quote:Moves Used:
Lightning Strike
![[Image: testclown.png]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/426940169548201995/453802699662557184/testclown.png)
Yuuka Kazami Wrote:Reimu comes back to make another pass at Meira and she just has an idiot neck child.
Credit to Yuuka for the sig