I... [Fate|Event]

Lamentations · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Lamentations** on Wed Oct 07, 2009 4:25 pm

Kageyo stayed where he was, a small brown image, concealed by the leaves. Even if he shut his eyes the man's head still remained like an after-image. The half-shut eyes were dim with the infinite cynicism of adult life. They assured Kageyo that everything was a bad business.

"I know that."

Kageyo had discovered that he had spoken aloud. He opened his eyes quickly and there was the head grinning amusedly in the strange daylight, ignoring the flies, the spilled guts, even ignoring the indignity of being stabbed on top of a stick. The putrid smell of terror and rot coursed through the hot thick blanket of air within the covert. He looked away quickly, licking his dry lips cracked lips. This was a gift from what he liked to call Fate, the same woman who had chased him near and far. Kageyo looked up, feeling the weightof his wet hair, and gazed at the sky. Up there, for once, were clouds, great bulging towers that sprouted away over the land, grey and cream and copper-colored. The clouds were sitting on the land; they squeezed, produced moment by moment this close, tormenting heat. Even the butterflies deserted the open space where the obscene thing cried and dripped.

"What a mental trick...

There were no shadows under the trees but everywhere a pearly stillness, so that what was real seemed illusive and without definition. The pile of guts was a black blob of swarming flies that buzzed like a saw. After awhile these flies found Kageyo. Gorged, they alighted by his runnels of sweat and drank. They tickled under his nostrils and played leapfrog on his thighs. They were black with a iridescent green and without number; and infront of Kageyo. His gaze was held by that ancient, inescapable recognition. In Kageyo's right temple, a pulse began to beat and throb on his brain. His lips spreading apart gradually as he monitored the dead head and sat in the only hiding spot that he could find.

Over the forest the build-up of clouds continued. A steady current of heated air rose all day from the mountain and was thrust to ten thousand feet; revolving masses of gas piled up the static until the air was ready to explode. By early evening the sun had gone and a brassy glare had taken the place of the clear daylight. Even the air that pushed from the oceans on the coast was hot and brought no refreshment. Colors drained from the water and the trees and pink surfaces of rock, and the white and brown clouds brooded. Nothing prospered but the flies who blackened the guts and made them appear to be no more than a glistening heap of coal.

The sweat and dirt stuck to his skin tightly, the must of his body not able to overcome the smell of the rotting dead. His eyes danced across the various palm trees, and then back to the corpse. He couldn't keep his eyes off of it, no matter how hard he tried. It just had to be sitting in the spot that he hid at, just to pester him and send him into a state of insanity. If he wasn't in his right mind, he would draw his sword and commence to slashing at every piece of body part that he saw. The smell, the sight, the sound of the buzzing flies, and the feeling of its presence was damn near unbearable.

Rising from the trees, he shrugged his shoulders now, trying to play his situation off. He had been in the same spot, and the same position for literally hours now. Kageyo couldn't risk being found or noticed by the towering ancient constructs which never ceased to amaze him. They seemed to adapt to his movements and attacks over time, and they also generated new attacks specifically designed to combat him. This meant that he would have the hardest time killing them, also discovering that their minds were all connected by one major A.I frame meaning that what one saw, the other saw. What one felt, the others felt.

Shifting forward slowly he emerged from the egress woodland from behind him, and carried himself forward slowly. Every step gave birth to a new level of awareness that he never thought he truly had. The slightest noise would cause his alarmed senses to react in some form of frenzy that he just couldn't take at this point. His body was trembling, a true sense of fear had set within.

"Your struggle is futile. This is Fate..."

They surrounded the covert, cloaking themselves from every single sense that Kageyo possessed. The dreaded eruption from an unknown world made him frantic; he screamed and bucked and the area was full of sweat and noise and blood and terror. One large moss covered golem, about 25 feet high above the ground, emerged with a scorching first of paramount power, smashing down on whatever human flesh that was below him. The other that was barreling with its head and shoulders forward, stomping and bombarding anything in sight with its powerful weight and inertia that crashed through all of the palm trees and uprooted them from the soft fertile soil from beneath. Then the others surging with thunderous energy demolished and assimilated anything that even appeared to be a threat.

"Damnit...I came so far! I just wanted to...I just wanted to save her...I just...I..."

Zman · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zman** on Thu Oct 08, 2009 2:45 pm

Breathing rapid....

Heart rate faster then normal...

Skin... burning...

Breakfast... coming up...

The eggs and bacon came up faster then he thought they would, coloring the ground with a yellowish pink absract painting. Wiping his mouth as he stood up, the ground lurched suddenly as if someone had pulled the very top layer back like a table cloth. Rolling forward, and coming up into a low crouch Tris scanned the area, his azure eyes taking in everything of the place that he now inhabited.

Palm trees... check

Over whelming humidity... check

Earth being flung around like bed sheets... check?

~Tris...~ everything stopped as his name was spoken from within his mind, the Dark Lady's presence coming to bare in a flare of shadowed light ~You aren't suppose to be here. Her hand is in this. Find the one that she seeks to destroy and you will find your way to those who have called you~

~As you command M'lady~ as he spoke those words, a throb erupted in his head and he knew at once who else had been called that was now in danger of missing that one important call of a life time.

The man who had been called just like he had been was now in danger of being crushed by massive constructs. An image flashed before Tris' eyes of him standing, trembling in fear as the goloms descended upon him.

~Looks like I"m just in time M'lady~

"Praise the Dark Lady" his soul flared with the energy he used in that brief prayer to his Goddess, the energy was different this time and he knew it. As his soul flared to release the energy for his battle aura, another energy flared beside it one that seemed to be smaller then his soul but it felt like a star was compressed into that tiny space.

Before his Battle Aura would manifest in a eight foot burst of yellow-orange energy which would then form around his body. However this time the Battle Aura manifested in a fourty foot high, and twenty foot wide burst of energy that caused his body to convulse as it tried to compress the amount of energy it had just unleashed. A cry of pain echoed from his throat as he set himself firm into the ground, his mind focusing on his soul and the fragment of the Dark Lady's soul that as merged with it. Slowly the Battle Aura came under his control, his skin darkening slightly from the effort of controlling the energy which had come through without warning.

As the yellow-orange aura formed around Tris' body, he let his will call forth his blade, Crimson Vitreus answered its Master's call. As the call was answered, Tris' felt the familiar pressure around his extanded right hand and the same sand-like particles swirled around Tris' body as they had so many times in the past. First to form was the black iron hilt, with its first piece being the lightless pearl that formed the pummel of the weapon. Right hand snapping shut around the solid hilt, its crossguard splitting two ways as the sand-like particles fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle. Its blade finally began to form, the black iron mixing with the red obsidian forming the rusted appearing midsection. Finally forming the blade, the red obsidian seemed to slide out of thin air as if it were simply drawn from a leather sheath.

Altering his Battle Aura so that it enhanced his speed over his other attributes for the time being, he took off in the direction of the goloms and the man that had caused his path to be altered to this place. Crimson Vitreus now rested over his right shoulder in a lax grip and an easy rest on his shoulders. A sudden shock hit his system as he took off. Normally his Battle Aura enhanced his natural attributes four times over, but he felt the change and knew that it was in a large part due to the fragment of a Goddess' soul merged with his own. His natural attributes were now increased by almost fifteen times their normal limits.

Normally his Battle Aura helped his body from being broken by the increase. Now that ability was being worked over time, though aided by the new amount of energy he could put into it. He was moving at almost a three hundred seventy miles per hour, his small figure a blur on the land that was being torn and broken by the goloms. His eyes should have been ripped from his face along with his skin and his entire body at the speed he was traveling, however his vision was slowed, as if time itself was warpped around himself.

Tæfarós · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tæfarós** on Mon Oct 19, 2009 1:30 am

He almost lost to a sausage.

Forget those punk ass three-headed wannabes and their acid house breath. Send your scaly beasties packing to the middle of the ocean Pacific. When it came to bastardly opponents, Oser actually had to give credit to the stampeding, hog-like terror that had had its field day mere moments before; the evidence was clear in the tattered stand that was previously known as Mr. Tokata’s fruit bonanza, but you would’ve never guessed that a giant sausage’d trambled the old Jap’s turf.

This was because Tokata-san was an optimist. Oser didn’t like liars, so he didn’t like optimists. But Tokata sure as hell liked Oser, so all was right in the world.

Shaking his bloodied hand, the demigod grinned at the elder and the small crowd that had gathered before them. Oser knew that if their veggie stands or sushi bars or whatever had taken the fall, they wouldn’t have bothered to clap. They would, however, cry their eyes out, goddamn psychos, maybe think about a little thing called insurance. Because they weren’t Tokata. Because they weren’t cool.

“Look, sir, I’m really sorry about all this.” He glanced at the hog corpse, which the local kids found fascinating enough to poke with sticks, and grimaced.

Tokata-san shook his head, patting Oser’s shoulder with a force that belonged to a drunkard, not Mr. Roboto. “No, it’s fine! Everything is fine! Dust yourself off, try try again, that kind of thing, right?”

“But, sir, your fru—”

“I said it’s fine!”

For such a happy-go-fucky guy, he was rather subpar at veiling his agitation. Oser shrugged.

“Now, you must be tired and hungry. Come with me and we’ll get that hand fixed. Maybe I’ll even let you stay for pork and meet my daughter!”

…What.

And that was it, just another chorus cat knocked from the neighbor’s fence, just another fleeting attempt at epic glory. Oser yanked his bladed costume play of a weapon, the Icarus staff, from the beast’s flank, cleaning it lethargically on the ground, and slung it across his back. Hazy and listless as usual, he followed, shoulders hunched, hands pocketed, walking through silent noir. For a day with a sky so blue and strangers so kind, the redundancy of the past week was catching up to him with a vengeance. He could prowl this city at night, take a stroll round Japantown and detour to the Eastern Euro chain bridge, and he’d have a helluva time distinguishing them from the New York hot dog stand. A grand city, this, a grandly grand mesh of cultures and nations—bullshit. Save it for the tourism industry.

At supper, he kicked off his winged shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and plopped down on a mat to feast upon the remains of his adversary. Tokata was quite good at smiling and frowning—like, chipper one moment, then bipolar the next. Fuckin’ weird. Optimists weren’t supposed to act that way.

His daughter seemed to agree somehow, silent in her pleas to depart; Oser took note of those elusive glances, the way she peered at him from over her teacup, sending some whacked out invitation to revelry and disaster. She spelled “carnal” with a capital F.U.C. He couldn’t break that politeness streak over some chick, especially not with poor Tokata-san in histrionics over his dead mistress: “And I would have killed the bitch if she hadn’t jumped!”

Okay, maybe he could. Just this once. Twice.

“He’s not always so bad, is he?” he asked her after the dishes had been cleaned, eyeing her as she wrapped gauze around his bloodied knuckles. She was cute in a schoolgirl kind of deal, and as he sat there on the toilet seat, he felt like all kinds of pedo.

She smiled. “Yeah, he is. Better get used to it.”

“Shit, no thanks. I don’t plan on seein’ him again any time soon.”

“But what about me? You’ll visit me often, won’t you?” She went about wrapping the gauze a tad more forcefully now, making him cringe.

So much for breaking that politeness streak. He'd retrieved his belongings at the door for a situation like this. “Not with that kinda attitude, girly. You got no class.”

“I hear you’re a demigod,” she replied, deflecting his words with her desu desu shield. Her eyes brightened.

“I hear you ain’t legal.” Oser stood, unlatching the bathroom window. He stuck one foot out, struggling to reach the ground, ‘til he landed none too gracefully on the pavement. “Thanks for the fixin’s!” he called up to her, ignoring her trembling lips, and that was it.

You’re so cool, Mr. Tokata.

Where to wander off to now? To that big rave scene in the sky, perhaps—literally. Scratch that. Those guys didn’t even have the balls to play proper, slap-yer-mum acid choons anymore, let alone anything that boasted true drum machines. He shifted his eyes upward, blowing the bangs out of his face, and spotted the busted monorail up ahead. Its tracks had been the unfortunate lunch of a giant, ugly sucker a few months back, but a few lines were still fit for travel. The pathways that no one ever bothered to take or had no priority in venturing on. They were tailor fit for a douche of his stature.

He immediately purchased a ticket, settling onboard, and by the time he fished out his pair of headphones, he forgot where he was headed. Wherethefuckever.

Optimists weren’t supposed to act that way. Neither were monorails.

Oser couldn’t decide exactly when things started to fuck up. A whopping count of two women were the only others along for the ride, but even they seemed to remain oblivious to the dirty, warping trip that commenced outside. His music ceased to blare, cutting off the female voice in his ear, as the world that passed him by grew more distorted over time, creeping in and out of focus like a visually broken record. He was unfamiliar with the lyrics he heard, something to do with calls and fate, something that sounded very, very out of place. It--or she, rather--was taunting him, laughing without a care. Gradually removing his headphones, he rose to his feet, scanning over the peculiar scene more in awe than in alarm; his curiosity found it to be a trippy marvel, and he concluded that, hey, he’d hopped through time and space before, had it off with ladies on a universal scale, so there was nothing to worry about, man.

“Hey,” he said to the women that accompanied him, “are we ridin’ the same train or what?”

Light blinded him momentarily, the kind that you probably saw before you snuffed it, but he wasn’t snuffing it, was he? He was just going through some foreign kind of relapse for turning down such a young and virginal target.

Then he lost his footing. The monorail disintegrated, the earth shook, and a golem was suddenly up in his business. This was a funky, grody mess of a situation, and by the look on the other guy’s face—who knew another dude would be as fortunate?!—he was thinking similarly. Oser didn’t like this, not one bit. He couldn’t even get paid if he knocked out these beasties. Fogging up his glasses and shit, how dare them. He’d take Tokata any day. Either him or a sausage.

On impulse, his grip went for the staff slung across his back. And that was it.

Lamentations · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Lamentations** on Mon Oct 19, 2009 5:10 pm

OOC: You all have full control over the golems, just make sure not to kill them off like in one post. Let's make this interesting. Also all my posts won't be long, I'll only make them that way when needed, or... if I'm in the mood :lol:

.

The forces of the golems shook the ground roughly. All wildlife evacuated the area immediately as it was engulfed in a fiery hellstorm which grew by the second. The golem were on trigger control, blasting and smashing anything they could see below. Bellowing smoke rose from the ground upwards causing their technological visions to switch to thermal but then they discovered something else wrong. With the scorching primordial forces that uprooted the ground in mystical scarlet flames, they were unable to retaliate due to the now hidden figure. Kageyo was gone.

Below the smoke Kageyo was barely alive. Blood running down the folds and cuts of his body, large gashes and burns that coated his body with heavy damage. Sweat mixed with blood and stress plagued his outer exterior as he scampered below on the broken and uprooted ground, hopping from spot to spot on the igneous (I think) rock. The blade was clenched firmly and stuck to him by the sticky sweat across his back as he struggled to combat them.

Kageyo’s scars glowed like lines of molten metal as he pressed his frantic offensive. Before one of the golems could realize what had happened, a pillar of blue fire burst from the ground like a geyser, enveloping the artificial being in a savage inferno.

Tæfarós · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Tæfarós** on Fri Oct 23, 2009 11:30 pm

OOC: Okay, good budday. I'll try my hardest not to bore you to death. No more overdoing it as I did in the intro. Just one wee question: Will Z still be posting? I read that he had interblargh troubles, but it seems that he's still able to log on, and I'd hate to ignore him. You gotta have your daily dose of Z, man.

Out of all the shitty days to wear a shitty turtleneck, it had to be today, a shitfest of shittily disfigured proportions. Sight limited, will tested. He detected others amidst the chaos, another willing victim that had affiliated with the face lost to the discord. Seldom had he been able to engage in battle with such evidently fearsome presences—a refreshing change, yeah, but one that he could certainly do without. The sounds of near-sanity faded into a far less desirable barrage of oddities: the mindrapes, the lack of balance, the raw feeling of being cooked in the oven of a devil. A bitch.

She was holding him back. Holding him down. And whenever she decided to reveal herself, he’d be sure to greet her with the courtesy of his backhand.

The creatures were erratic in their assault, tearing up shit, seemingly fazed by the amount of destruction they had caused. For such destructive things, they were either lost to some command, waiting for the beat to drop again, or they were painfully bored. The one that stood alarmingly close to him paid no mind, its focus intend on the figure lost to the bedlam. Always swift to move about, Oser looked skyward at the beams that streaked from their eyes like searchlights, piercing through the acridity that littered the air. Stability was akin to living life through a flow coma; he gripped the staff in one hand, removed his glasses with the other, never quite escaping the thought that he’d fall and fail to get up. Like a cripple. That had to suck.

Frenetic, his eyes darted around the land in hellfire, desperate to locate any sign of hope—a weak point, maybe, or another sign of life that wouldn’t pummel him at the first chance. As if on cue, one golem was consumed by a blue-tinted tower of flame, one that he briefly shielded his vision from. Whoever the hell was out there had some pretty weird timing; the beast let out an agitated noise, sending tremors through the earth once again, thrashing its body and swinging its arms. Its giant hands collided into that of its comrades, and the others soon followed in resuming the damage that had been done. A foot impacted with the ground beside him, and he held the Icarus in front to keep himself from stumbling. The golem blinked slowly, glaring down at him with a listless gaze before lifting its foot to strike a second time. Instinctively, he brought the bladed head of the staff down upon the coarse appendage, unsure if the move would be effective at all.

Zman · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Zman** on Sat Oct 24, 2009 6:32 am

((OOC: I'm here I'm here. Sorry about the delay. Bad Internet and being deployed makes it hard to actually get the time to post to everything and have the energy to be super creative. I'll try and post as much as possible. Thanks for waiting for me.))

Chaos...

Destruction...

He had to stop and take it all in...

Scowling at the mindless destruction that these huge monsters were causing, all to kill one person that had slipped out of the stream of destiny. Gritting his teeth, he found a target to begin his own destruction with. It was one of the taller monsters, its hands ending in large sickle like blades and its body appearing to be made out of stones linked together by a meaty substance.

"This should be fun," his battle aura flaring and shifting as he spoke, now it was enhancing every natural ability he had.

Taking off in a blur of motion, using the crumbling ground that seem to rise and fall at will, to launch himself into the air with a leap through the empty space. Sword gripped in a two hand fashion and held above his head, ready to deliver a might killing blow to this monster that stood before him.

It was quick. Turning its bright red glowing eyes to peer at him, at the same time both sickle blades came rushing at him from the sides. Each blade glinting his death in the day's light as they sped to slice his body into bite size pieces.

"You wish!" bringing his blade downwards, a rush of red-orange energy flowed from the blade and a spinning crescent energy blade erupted from the end of the blade. Striking the monster right at the neck-body joint the energy blade exploded, sending body explosive energy and razor-sharp cutting energy into the monster. Sickle blades fell limply to the ground, the monster falling to its knees as smoke rose from its half destroyed head and chest.

Panting as he landed on the still crumbling ground, his battle aura wavering for a moment before he concentrated on it for a moment to restablize it, "Damn that attack took alot" sweet rolled down the side of his face and his crimson strands steemed to already be drenched in sweet.

I... [Fate|Event]

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