02-15-2017, 10:10 PM
I push away from the little earthen wall - barely more than a steep dip in the hillside really (and what a surprise to discover that there isn't a proper word for such a thing!) - which shelters the overgrown puddle into which I've so recently thrown the object of my aggression.
She hauls herself out of the mire, and immediately begins talking again. This creatures fascination with her so-called 'spirit' is intriguing - but it's also beginning to get on my nerves. I should not be having this much difficulty!
"You're mistaken," I tell her, "about what it is I've been trying to break!"
Energy cascades from my fingers (which is still a horrible word, although I'm beginning to develop an appreciation for the actual appendages. The sheer control they grant, the power to grasp... I'm looking forward to exploring them further). I throw yet more lightning, sweeping it in a wide arc, but the girl's remarkable reflexes save her from the worst of it. The madwoman performs an awkward dive, and the beam dances over her head, turning a vast swath of the pond behind her into a cauldron of boiling muck. Little islands of burning algae flicker for a moment in the gathering dark before guttering out.
I stalk towards her, growling. "And as for your 'soul'... It's almost endearing that you think you have one. Gods have souls. Civilizations have souls. I have a soul!"
The little monster interrupts me, bursting from her prone position with a yell of defiance and tackling me at the waist, driving into my stomach with her elbow. I shudder as the breath rushes out of me, but I refuse to fall, my feet digging into the earth as the impact forces me backward.
I knee her in the stomach, a sharp, wet sound, and grasp her around the waist, lifting the charred, soggy upstart bodily over my head!
"The life-force that animates your miserable carcass," I growl, "is nothing so grand!"
I toss the madwoman's body across the road, and watch her bounce and roll across the fields, finally skidding to a halt beside a single wooden post, decayed remnant of some long-gone barrier. I stalk after her, my anger growing with every step I take. The injuries my enemy has inflicted pain me, and I leave a trail of gold-flecked ichor, shining in the light of the night's first stars. As I advance, I lash out with my astral might. Jagged bolts of cosmic energy rip into the turf, starting small fires and blasting soil high into the air, but none strike my enemy.
She stirs, using the fence-post as a handhold to pull herself to her feet. I pause, gathering my power, and unleash a volley of three lethal bolts, but I just can't seem to land a hit! They arc wide, tearing glowing furrows in the sod. This is infuriating!
Such a pathetic excuse for a fighter, this miserable female mammal with her ridiculous iron gloves. She's grows ever more fascinating in her bizarre refusal to fall before my strength, and in the way that every time I hurt her she just seems to become more engaged. But to deal me such injuries! To mock me so with her wings!
I feel a stirring as I consider this last indignity, and I halt my advance. The power of flight, and all it represents, are mine by right. What claim does she have to the skies when I am DENIED?! Responding to something, my anger or my interest, the dormant heads that adorn my shoulders open their eyes.
The girl notices my distraction, and grabs hold of the fence-post, breaking it off at the base and hefting it in both hands like a club. Grinning a wide, bloody grin beneath my threefold gaze, she proclaims: "I'm not the one who's going to be a carcass, you arrogant golden pinata!"
... Pinata is a word I don't know, but I can only assume it's insulting.
Aiming carefully with all six eyes, I concentrate my power, and three spiral bolts burst forth from my hands and throat, wrapping around one another in a dazzling dance of sizzling, leaping death.
If this doesn't correct my opponent's misapprehensions, then she's even crazier - and far more durable - than I thought.
She hauls herself out of the mire, and immediately begins talking again. This creatures fascination with her so-called 'spirit' is intriguing - but it's also beginning to get on my nerves. I should not be having this much difficulty!
"You're mistaken," I tell her, "about what it is I've been trying to break!"
Energy cascades from my fingers (which is still a horrible word, although I'm beginning to develop an appreciation for the actual appendages. The sheer control they grant, the power to grasp... I'm looking forward to exploring them further). I throw yet more lightning, sweeping it in a wide arc, but the girl's remarkable reflexes save her from the worst of it. The madwoman performs an awkward dive, and the beam dances over her head, turning a vast swath of the pond behind her into a cauldron of boiling muck. Little islands of burning algae flicker for a moment in the gathering dark before guttering out.
I stalk towards her, growling. "And as for your 'soul'... It's almost endearing that you think you have one. Gods have souls. Civilizations have souls. I have a soul!"
The little monster interrupts me, bursting from her prone position with a yell of defiance and tackling me at the waist, driving into my stomach with her elbow. I shudder as the breath rushes out of me, but I refuse to fall, my feet digging into the earth as the impact forces me backward.
I knee her in the stomach, a sharp, wet sound, and grasp her around the waist, lifting the charred, soggy upstart bodily over my head!
"The life-force that animates your miserable carcass," I growl, "is nothing so grand!"
I toss the madwoman's body across the road, and watch her bounce and roll across the fields, finally skidding to a halt beside a single wooden post, decayed remnant of some long-gone barrier. I stalk after her, my anger growing with every step I take. The injuries my enemy has inflicted pain me, and I leave a trail of gold-flecked ichor, shining in the light of the night's first stars. As I advance, I lash out with my astral might. Jagged bolts of cosmic energy rip into the turf, starting small fires and blasting soil high into the air, but none strike my enemy.
She stirs, using the fence-post as a handhold to pull herself to her feet. I pause, gathering my power, and unleash a volley of three lethal bolts, but I just can't seem to land a hit! They arc wide, tearing glowing furrows in the sod. This is infuriating!
Such a pathetic excuse for a fighter, this miserable female mammal with her ridiculous iron gloves. She's grows ever more fascinating in her bizarre refusal to fall before my strength, and in the way that every time I hurt her she just seems to become more engaged. But to deal me such injuries! To mock me so with her wings!
I feel a stirring as I consider this last indignity, and I halt my advance. The power of flight, and all it represents, are mine by right. What claim does she have to the skies when I am DENIED?! Responding to something, my anger or my interest, the dormant heads that adorn my shoulders open their eyes.
The girl notices my distraction, and grabs hold of the fence-post, breaking it off at the base and hefting it in both hands like a club. Grinning a wide, bloody grin beneath my threefold gaze, she proclaims: "I'm not the one who's going to be a carcass, you arrogant golden pinata!"
... Pinata is a word I don't know, but I can only assume it's insulting.
Aiming carefully with all six eyes, I concentrate my power, and three spiral bolts burst forth from my hands and throat, wrapping around one another in a dazzling dance of sizzling, leaping death.
If this doesn't correct my opponent's misapprehensions, then she's even crazier - and far more durable - than I thought.
Quote:712 words according to Wordcounter.Net
Ghidorah used Golden lightning, again, both fire-modes.
Ghidorah is using Tier-1 Super-Attack Gravity Lathe - and his only SP point.
Dawn/Erika used Foresight
Dawn/Erika used Steel gauntlets.