11-29-2016, 11:05 PM
A million thoughts raced through the demon’s mind as he scrambled backwards. The revolver, or rather the blinking goddamned bomb, had landed in his lap. Panic consumed rational thought and Kuzuru thrashed about in the snow, trying to get away from the explosive. He managed to swipe the gun from his lap and crawl to his feet. The demon planted his legs and stood arms outstretched, facing the impending explosion. Hundreds of blades erupted from his body, blooming outwards in the shape of a lotus flower. In but a moment his entire body had become nothing more than a bristling mass of swords; each of them layered and stacked upon scores of others, collectively forming a bulwark of jagged edges.
A wave of pressure rocketed throughout the cave system. Spiderweb cracks formed in the sheets of ice that constructed the walls and snow was blasted every which way. Scorching heat engulfed the demon. Shrapnel slammed against his bladed shell, ricocheted off the angled surface. Underneath the booming explosion one could hear a sound not unlike the shattering of ceramic plates. His blades snapped and splintered against the overwhelming force, sending shotgun-like spurts of metallic chunks across the cavern. This all happened in a matter of seconds, it was over before the demon could even register the sudden sensory overload. When all was said and done the demon was left smoldering, but still standing. A smattering of fractured blades and daggers jutted from his seared flesh. Thin fingers of smoke wafted from his sizzling skin. Muscles tensed and trembled as he strained against the sheer weight of his own body. The Invisible devils of tinnitus screeched their falsetto song into his ruptured ear drums.
Kuzuru sucked in air, his lungs felt scorched and full of hot smoke. With shaky hands he slicked back his smoldering mass of matted black hair. “So,” he said, taking his time to form the words, “you really felt the need to unleash something of that magnitude against civilians? For shame Ballad, for shame.”
“That bomb was not intended for civilians, and you know it devil,” Ballad shot back, “I’ve no interest in reiterating that fact again.”
“Whatever,” Kuzuru muttered. He started to walk, testing out his damaged limbs. Every motion sunk painful fangs into his nerves. As he walked the remains of his defense crumbled and flaked off his body, leaving a trail of metal chips. The demon was moving towards Ballad’s pickaxe, which was now buried beneath a foot of snow. Ballad moved to intercept, but stopped as Kuzuru picked up pace. He had no desire to engage the demon in close quarters combat without a suitable weapon. Instead the gunsmith watched from a distance, taking the peaceful moment to catch his breath. The demon winced as he bent over and fished the pickaxe from the snow. “I like your toys Ballad, I really do,” Kuzuru said, trying his best to hide the strain in his voice, “nice and deadly, the kind befitting a man of your caliber.” The demon hefted the weapon over his head and threw it towards Ballad. It sank into the ground within arm’s reach of the gunsmith.
“This’ll be no fun if you can’t fight back,” Kuzuru said.
Kuzuru’s right arm fell limp to his side. More accurately it grew too heavy to lift. Starting from his elbow and trailing down to his wrist a thick blade squeezed out from beneath his skin. This one was different from the sabres and other blades, it was a cumbersome thing. Probably weighing close to a hundred pounds the blade was more of a cleaver than a sword. The demon’s muscles bulged and twitched as they strained to keep his shoulder from dislocating. He stepped forward, widening his stance to account for the added weight. Charging forward the demon started slow, but gained momentum like a freight train. Ballad raised his flamethrower and let loose a gout of flame, forming a wall of conflagration. Without a moment’s hesitation nor an iota of care for his being the demon charged through the fiery shroud.
The following impact sent Ballad sprawling. He had managed to block the cutting edge with the shaft of his pickaxe, but the sheer momentum forced him onto his ass. Towering above him Kuzuru stood and grinned. The demon groaned as he heaved the cleaver high into the air and brought it down upon his adversary. Ballad rolled to the side, avoiding the meteoric descent of the massive weapon. A cloud of snow was launched into the air as the blade buried itself into the ice below. It took Kuzuru a solid moment to wrest the blade from its cold tomb, and in that moment Ballad had sprung to his feet.
Ballad adopted a defensive stance. His feet danced lines in the snow, carrying his body as he dodged devastating strike after devastating strike. Once or twice he attempted to parry the leviathan, but its sheer mass made it difficult to divert. To an outside observer the whole fight was a carefully choreographed routine. They fought within the pallid confines of their little globe of light, on a stage surrounded by suffocating darkness. Thespians flirting with death. Weapons clashed. Blood was spilled. Two beings caught within a tempest of strife, both of them in a familiar home. One fighting for his life and the other fighting to feel alive.
A curtain fell upon their routine just as it came to a zenith. Darkness swallowed them. Light was cast aside and all that remained was uncertainty. Their source of illumination had itself been consumed by the snow it had melted around it. Such was the fate of warriors, ever bound by the whim of circumstance. Ballad steadied his breath, trying hard to quiet himself. Kuzuru thrashed about, swinging into the darkness hoping to find solid contact with something squishy. The demon yelled. He screamed and raged and cursed and bemoaned the fact that their fight was put on hold. To him this was the ultimate denial of the climax he had been working towards for the past few days. This was agony.
A wave of pressure rocketed throughout the cave system. Spiderweb cracks formed in the sheets of ice that constructed the walls and snow was blasted every which way. Scorching heat engulfed the demon. Shrapnel slammed against his bladed shell, ricocheted off the angled surface. Underneath the booming explosion one could hear a sound not unlike the shattering of ceramic plates. His blades snapped and splintered against the overwhelming force, sending shotgun-like spurts of metallic chunks across the cavern. This all happened in a matter of seconds, it was over before the demon could even register the sudden sensory overload. When all was said and done the demon was left smoldering, but still standing. A smattering of fractured blades and daggers jutted from his seared flesh. Thin fingers of smoke wafted from his sizzling skin. Muscles tensed and trembled as he strained against the sheer weight of his own body. The Invisible devils of tinnitus screeched their falsetto song into his ruptured ear drums.
Kuzuru sucked in air, his lungs felt scorched and full of hot smoke. With shaky hands he slicked back his smoldering mass of matted black hair. “So,” he said, taking his time to form the words, “you really felt the need to unleash something of that magnitude against civilians? For shame Ballad, for shame.”
“That bomb was not intended for civilians, and you know it devil,” Ballad shot back, “I’ve no interest in reiterating that fact again.”
“Whatever,” Kuzuru muttered. He started to walk, testing out his damaged limbs. Every motion sunk painful fangs into his nerves. As he walked the remains of his defense crumbled and flaked off his body, leaving a trail of metal chips. The demon was moving towards Ballad’s pickaxe, which was now buried beneath a foot of snow. Ballad moved to intercept, but stopped as Kuzuru picked up pace. He had no desire to engage the demon in close quarters combat without a suitable weapon. Instead the gunsmith watched from a distance, taking the peaceful moment to catch his breath. The demon winced as he bent over and fished the pickaxe from the snow. “I like your toys Ballad, I really do,” Kuzuru said, trying his best to hide the strain in his voice, “nice and deadly, the kind befitting a man of your caliber.” The demon hefted the weapon over his head and threw it towards Ballad. It sank into the ground within arm’s reach of the gunsmith.
“This’ll be no fun if you can’t fight back,” Kuzuru said.
Kuzuru’s right arm fell limp to his side. More accurately it grew too heavy to lift. Starting from his elbow and trailing down to his wrist a thick blade squeezed out from beneath his skin. This one was different from the sabres and other blades, it was a cumbersome thing. Probably weighing close to a hundred pounds the blade was more of a cleaver than a sword. The demon’s muscles bulged and twitched as they strained to keep his shoulder from dislocating. He stepped forward, widening his stance to account for the added weight. Charging forward the demon started slow, but gained momentum like a freight train. Ballad raised his flamethrower and let loose a gout of flame, forming a wall of conflagration. Without a moment’s hesitation nor an iota of care for his being the demon charged through the fiery shroud.
The following impact sent Ballad sprawling. He had managed to block the cutting edge with the shaft of his pickaxe, but the sheer momentum forced him onto his ass. Towering above him Kuzuru stood and grinned. The demon groaned as he heaved the cleaver high into the air and brought it down upon his adversary. Ballad rolled to the side, avoiding the meteoric descent of the massive weapon. A cloud of snow was launched into the air as the blade buried itself into the ice below. It took Kuzuru a solid moment to wrest the blade from its cold tomb, and in that moment Ballad had sprung to his feet.
Ballad adopted a defensive stance. His feet danced lines in the snow, carrying his body as he dodged devastating strike after devastating strike. Once or twice he attempted to parry the leviathan, but its sheer mass made it difficult to divert. To an outside observer the whole fight was a carefully choreographed routine. They fought within the pallid confines of their little globe of light, on a stage surrounded by suffocating darkness. Thespians flirting with death. Weapons clashed. Blood was spilled. Two beings caught within a tempest of strife, both of them in a familiar home. One fighting for his life and the other fighting to feel alive.
A curtain fell upon their routine just as it came to a zenith. Darkness swallowed them. Light was cast aside and all that remained was uncertainty. Their source of illumination had itself been consumed by the snow it had melted around it. Such was the fate of warriors, ever bound by the whim of circumstance. Ballad steadied his breath, trying hard to quiet himself. Kuzuru thrashed about, swinging into the darkness hoping to find solid contact with something squishy. The demon yelled. He screamed and raged and cursed and bemoaned the fact that their fight was put on hold. To him this was the ultimate denial of the climax he had been working towards for the past few days. This was agony.
Quote: Using Demon Lotus - Tier 1 Defensive Super Move to mitigate some damage from Ballad's super move. 2/3 SP remaining