11-25-2016, 01:06 PM
I rise up, twirling my staff above my head.
I’m not really in the mood for theatrics anymore.
Lightning sparks through the gold, building to a crescendo.
Not when some powerless little prick decides to interrupt my fight. I was enjoying that. The metal man was almost worth my time! This tiny mortal … is so arrogant. Demanding my attention. Well, I’ll give it to him.
I rear my arm back, and
Mantra.
A hooked dart, right in the neck.
I jerk myself to the side as uncontained sparks fly loose of my carefully-charged move. I seethe through gritted teeth: “DIE!” as I throw my hand forward.
But as I fire, something taps against my neck. A wire! It flicks around my neck, strangling me momentarily. In that moment, my energy cascades out in fruitless misdirection. I panic and scrape my fingernails against the wire.
Mantra.
He’s yanking me down …!
The wire goes taut around my neck. I’m stronger than him, but struggling just cuts off my windpipe even more. I get my fingers under the wire and in one sharp, strong motion, I break it!
Mantra.
Guns …!
The bullets graze me, I’ve no time to dodge. Damnable wire. That dart! I won’t be fooled again by such cheap tricks.
I keep my distance, watching him. He continues to shoot, so I move upwards, weaving my way through the bullets with the help of my mantra. It’s difficult to keep my head clear, with how many times he’s managed hit me. Shame tinges my cheeks. I have to wreck him. Ruin him. But if I’m not careful, my anger will get the better of me. And that’s unbecoming of God.
I slow my breathing.
Very well then. As he shoots, I begin to rain down bolts from above.
Beneath that unassuming appearance he hides surprising skill. After about five or six bolts, he’s managed to dodge them all. I pause. I don’t like to waste energy.
In the few minutes since this fight began, more and more have begun to join the fray. If I’m not careful …
My whole body goes cold as I remember the agony of death. The momentary contortion as my bones, blood and sinew are crunched together.
… I will not give Omni the satisfaction of watching me experience death a second time. But neither will I retreat. I will establish dominance over these mortals, resolve whatever conflict is jarring them so, and then take my rightful place as their leader.
And if they refuse?
A more satisfying memory reaffirms my vigor, calms my racing heart. That of my hand taking Ganondorf’s life.
You can’t refuse death.
I power up to my maximum again. It’s time to stop playing games with these mortals.
My target, that weasel of a mortal being, has ducked to the sidelines. But I can see him. My orbit doesn’t escape his notice, either. He raises his guns at me as I float across to the sky above him.
“Getting away? Tut tut tut.”
His pistols fire at me. It’s so easy, in my powered-up state, to see and dodge the bullets. I could almost pluck them out of the air. Cheeky little buggers. Instead, I make my way into the man’s personal space. I get up reaaal close. Before he knows it, I’m standing between his outstretched arms, and I can see the shock and surprise on his face. I chuckle and place a hand on his chest.
“Vari.”
Electricity coalesces from my whole body into that point of impact. A few droplets of blood escape from his mouth as he flies backwards, skidding across the floor. His jacket is smoking.
To his credit, he’s not one to let a little internal bleeding stop him. Almost immediately he reaches for a weapon on his back. But I’m there. My hand is on his throat.
“You got a little blood there,” I say to him, gesturing with my free hand to his lips.
I wait for a response. “You … you got …”
“Eh?” I lean in. “Speak up, you’re-UGUNGH!”
Piercing pain in my side. I stagger backwards, letting him go. Fresh claret spills out onto the white floor. Why …?
I stare accusingly back at him, and see the hidden blade slide back into his wrist compartment. I see him rub his neck as he finishes his sentence: “… A little blood there, too.”
Son of a bitch … I stagger but maintain my foothold. It’s not too deep. I can …
Mantra.
Something explodes in my face, throwing me backwards.
I spy him raising that rifle. That must have been what he’d been reaching for. I stumble out of the way as the grenade goes flying.
He fumbles with the weapon. I grit my teeth. As I raise my hand to unleash electricity, he dives out of the way. One more time he raises the weapon and I move in, my feet sounding like thunder against the ground to cross the distance. Just as the bullet’s psychic echo grazes my skull, I duck, speeding underneath and clutching my hand into a punch that buries itself in his belly.
Satisfying.
My next uppercut grazes his chin enough to make him stagger. He’s forgotten the rifle and he’s using his hands to deflect me, admittedly with great skill. But every touch of my arms sends a jolt through his body. I grin. He’s not showing it, but I know mortals can’t touch me without feeling pain. Such is their punishment for aspiring beyond their proper place. He reaches for a dagger.
I stop him. “Ah ah ah,” I reprimand, hand clenched around his wrist. I up the voltage and watch him squeal. Ha ha, I’m going to enjoy this.
“Now tell me. What are you all fighting over? What’s so important?”
I’m not really in the mood for theatrics anymore.
Lightning sparks through the gold, building to a crescendo.
Not when some powerless little prick decides to interrupt my fight. I was enjoying that. The metal man was almost worth my time! This tiny mortal … is so arrogant. Demanding my attention. Well, I’ll give it to him.
I rear my arm back, and
Mantra.
A hooked dart, right in the neck.
I jerk myself to the side as uncontained sparks fly loose of my carefully-charged move. I seethe through gritted teeth: “DIE!” as I throw my hand forward.
But as I fire, something taps against my neck. A wire! It flicks around my neck, strangling me momentarily. In that moment, my energy cascades out in fruitless misdirection. I panic and scrape my fingernails against the wire.
Mantra.
He’s yanking me down …!
The wire goes taut around my neck. I’m stronger than him, but struggling just cuts off my windpipe even more. I get my fingers under the wire and in one sharp, strong motion, I break it!
Mantra.
Guns …!
The bullets graze me, I’ve no time to dodge. Damnable wire. That dart! I won’t be fooled again by such cheap tricks.
I keep my distance, watching him. He continues to shoot, so I move upwards, weaving my way through the bullets with the help of my mantra. It’s difficult to keep my head clear, with how many times he’s managed hit me. Shame tinges my cheeks. I have to wreck him. Ruin him. But if I’m not careful, my anger will get the better of me. And that’s unbecoming of God.
I slow my breathing.
Very well then. As he shoots, I begin to rain down bolts from above.
Beneath that unassuming appearance he hides surprising skill. After about five or six bolts, he’s managed to dodge them all. I pause. I don’t like to waste energy.
In the few minutes since this fight began, more and more have begun to join the fray. If I’m not careful …
My whole body goes cold as I remember the agony of death. The momentary contortion as my bones, blood and sinew are crunched together.
… I will not give Omni the satisfaction of watching me experience death a second time. But neither will I retreat. I will establish dominance over these mortals, resolve whatever conflict is jarring them so, and then take my rightful place as their leader.
And if they refuse?
A more satisfying memory reaffirms my vigor, calms my racing heart. That of my hand taking Ganondorf’s life.
You can’t refuse death.
I power up to my maximum again. It’s time to stop playing games with these mortals.
My target, that weasel of a mortal being, has ducked to the sidelines. But I can see him. My orbit doesn’t escape his notice, either. He raises his guns at me as I float across to the sky above him.
“Getting away? Tut tut tut.”
His pistols fire at me. It’s so easy, in my powered-up state, to see and dodge the bullets. I could almost pluck them out of the air. Cheeky little buggers. Instead, I make my way into the man’s personal space. I get up reaaal close. Before he knows it, I’m standing between his outstretched arms, and I can see the shock and surprise on his face. I chuckle and place a hand on his chest.
“Vari.”
Electricity coalesces from my whole body into that point of impact. A few droplets of blood escape from his mouth as he flies backwards, skidding across the floor. His jacket is smoking.
To his credit, he’s not one to let a little internal bleeding stop him. Almost immediately he reaches for a weapon on his back. But I’m there. My hand is on his throat.
“You got a little blood there,” I say to him, gesturing with my free hand to his lips.
I wait for a response. “You … you got …”
“Eh?” I lean in. “Speak up, you’re-UGUNGH!”
Piercing pain in my side. I stagger backwards, letting him go. Fresh claret spills out onto the white floor. Why …?
I stare accusingly back at him, and see the hidden blade slide back into his wrist compartment. I see him rub his neck as he finishes his sentence: “… A little blood there, too.”
Son of a bitch … I stagger but maintain my foothold. It’s not too deep. I can …
Mantra.
Something explodes in my face, throwing me backwards.
I spy him raising that rifle. That must have been what he’d been reaching for. I stumble out of the way as the grenade goes flying.
He fumbles with the weapon. I grit my teeth. As I raise my hand to unleash electricity, he dives out of the way. One more time he raises the weapon and I move in, my feet sounding like thunder against the ground to cross the distance. Just as the bullet’s psychic echo grazes my skull, I duck, speeding underneath and clutching my hand into a punch that buries itself in his belly.
Satisfying.
My next uppercut grazes his chin enough to make him stagger. He’s forgotten the rifle and he’s using his hands to deflect me, admittedly with great skill. But every touch of my arms sends a jolt through his body. I grin. He’s not showing it, but I know mortals can’t touch me without feeling pain. Such is their punishment for aspiring beyond their proper place. He reaches for a dagger.
I stop him. “Ah ah ah,” I reprimand, hand clenched around his wrist. I up the voltage and watch him squeal. Ha ha, I’m going to enjoy this.
“Now tell me. What are you all fighting over? What’s so important?”
Quote:Tier 1 Powered-Up Form: Sparking! Used for 1 post. 1/3 SP remaining.
Shay used a bunch of stuff – his rope darts, grenade launcher, daggers, hidden blade. Enel used all his non-super moves.
![[Image: godenel_baronsig.png]](http://omniverse-rpg.com/images/godenel_baronsig.png)