05-05-2017, 07:46 AM
The magus stared back up at the hunter from sunken, black eyes. Long, greasy, graying hair lay splayed on the ground under his head. The ceremonial hat, decorated with gold trim and nightmarish emblems in equal measure, lay forgotten in the dust, rolling away as a tumbleweed in the desert.
As the hunter counted five, the magus did not move.
Dark, caustic fluid oozed from wounds already sustained. A few nicks and scrapes, from heroic efforts of those who had tried to stop him. Countless seared, burning wounds in his flesh and clothing, the results of the hacker-ronin's assault. His belt of dark chips was half blown off, only five of the original payload of the small devices remaining to be seen. Life was bleeding away from his body, in whatever fashion life still flowed through it.
The count of four was reached, the hunter's aim never swaying. The glow of orange energy, from her arm cannon, reflected in the glassy, black eyes of the magus. And he just stared at her. Not uncomprehending, not as if disbelieving, not even as afraid. The flat, empty gaze was filled with only one thing: complete disinterest.
The count of three was reached. Without the constant stream of reinforcements, from the magus's summoning, the forces were finally starting to dwindle. Slowly, just due to their sheer number and the few actually fighting them off. But they were being cut down and fading.
The count of two was reached. The magus finally lifted a hand. Arm straight up, toward the sky, fingers held perfectly straight. In the town, all at once, the darklings stopped. Stopped, as if struck dumb, frozen in time and space. Some of them stopped mid-run, mid-swing of a weapon, mid-jump, mid-roar. As if someone had pressed pause on their ranks.
The hunter didn't waver. The magus did not lower his hand.
Smoke and mist began to pour across the village. The frozen darklings and corrupted citizenry broke down, falling into pieces and dissolving into sludge. It poured and ran through the streets and through the air, drawing back toward its source: the emaciated, withered man, dispassionately staring down the barrel of an energy cannon. "I have called them off," he said simply, his voice unnaturally slow and heavy. It was grating and painful to listen to, as if spoken through a thick syrup, under great pressure.
The entire mass of smoke and sludge roiled in, bursting around Samus like a missile. Thrown off her feet, and knocked out of the way, the mass of darkness coiled under the dark minister, scooping him up and forming into a platform, at the top of a pillar some ten feet high. Massive tendrils of the formed up dark substance rose up behind him, poised to strike. "But they must go...somewhere. Don't you...thi--"
His words were cut off, the built up blast of energy in the hunter's weapon hitting him square in the chest. He staggered, crazily, his footing gone and pitched off his upraised perch. It sloshed down, splattering wet and thickly across the ground. And as it spread out, dissolving, and disappearing, the body of the magus was nowhere to be seen. Only his belt, and the handful of dark chips attached to it, remained behind.
As the hunter counted five, the magus did not move.
Dark, caustic fluid oozed from wounds already sustained. A few nicks and scrapes, from heroic efforts of those who had tried to stop him. Countless seared, burning wounds in his flesh and clothing, the results of the hacker-ronin's assault. His belt of dark chips was half blown off, only five of the original payload of the small devices remaining to be seen. Life was bleeding away from his body, in whatever fashion life still flowed through it.
The count of four was reached, the hunter's aim never swaying. The glow of orange energy, from her arm cannon, reflected in the glassy, black eyes of the magus. And he just stared at her. Not uncomprehending, not as if disbelieving, not even as afraid. The flat, empty gaze was filled with only one thing: complete disinterest.
The count of three was reached. Without the constant stream of reinforcements, from the magus's summoning, the forces were finally starting to dwindle. Slowly, just due to their sheer number and the few actually fighting them off. But they were being cut down and fading.
The count of two was reached. The magus finally lifted a hand. Arm straight up, toward the sky, fingers held perfectly straight. In the town, all at once, the darklings stopped. Stopped, as if struck dumb, frozen in time and space. Some of them stopped mid-run, mid-swing of a weapon, mid-jump, mid-roar. As if someone had pressed pause on their ranks.
The hunter didn't waver. The magus did not lower his hand.
Smoke and mist began to pour across the village. The frozen darklings and corrupted citizenry broke down, falling into pieces and dissolving into sludge. It poured and ran through the streets and through the air, drawing back toward its source: the emaciated, withered man, dispassionately staring down the barrel of an energy cannon. "I have called them off," he said simply, his voice unnaturally slow and heavy. It was grating and painful to listen to, as if spoken through a thick syrup, under great pressure.
The entire mass of smoke and sludge roiled in, bursting around Samus like a missile. Thrown off her feet, and knocked out of the way, the mass of darkness coiled under the dark minister, scooping him up and forming into a platform, at the top of a pillar some ten feet high. Massive tendrils of the formed up dark substance rose up behind him, poised to strike. "But they must go...somewhere. Don't you...thi--"
His words were cut off, the built up blast of energy in the hunter's weapon hitting him square in the chest. He staggered, crazily, his footing gone and pitched off his upraised perch. It sloshed down, splattering wet and thickly across the ground. And as it spread out, dissolving, and disappearing, the body of the magus was nowhere to be seen. Only his belt, and the handful of dark chips attached to it, remained behind.
Quote:Challenge: complete!
The magus is dead, and the demon will be freed from Nebula's control, now.
Damage Report:
-- Hiro takes 2 damage from being battered and wailed on by mooks who knew not with whom they fucked
-- Okor takes 1 damage for wading through things and not giving a fuck
-- Madotsuki takes 2 damage because darkness is bad, mkay
-- Samus takes 1 damage from being sucker punched by an asshole
Everyone is free to reap and/or destroy the spoils. You all have five days and 800 words to decide your next course of action. Best of luck.