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Snippet #2764822

located in Earth, Armor Spirits Version, a part of Armor Spirits, one of the many universes on RPG.

Earth, Armor Spirits Version

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Shinku Rouge Character Portrait: Nazku Nilus Character Portrait: Jaune Al'asfar Character Portrait: Editus Rayn
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"Oh no, they get bigger and uglier, whatever shall I do?" he mocked, defending against a swing by one of the ogres, causing him to slide back and hit his back against a wall. Another ogre lunges forward at him, and he slides down between the legs of the giant, causing it to slam a hammer into the wall, where his head would have been. He readied himself to jab the first creature in the back, only for his buddy to slam down a sword against his lance, and taking a club across Rayn's face, sending him hurdling into the other wall. His vision blurred, his brow began to bleed, and he felt his energy slipping from him. Silently he cursed his weakened state, trying to raise his hand against the approaching ogres. "I... don't need anyone..."

What faith is there to be had in others, bonds inevitably fade, either through death or betrayal... besides, my fate was never to be something righteous, never to be a hero, not to be loved... I was born of hate... to be hated... hate...

"Hate!" suddenly the hollow chirps of the sprites became shrill chants. They gathered around Rayn, pulling at him, pushing him back onto his feet. He stumbled back, his right arm hanging, his left arm against the wall, trying to balance himself. He hung his head down, a face expressionless. An ogre stepped up to him raising all its weapons ready to perform the finishing blow, but suddenly a breeze surrounded them, intensifying rapidly. The ogre let out a confused grunt as its lips flapped back in the wind, giving the otherwise terrifying beast a rather awkward expression. Its eyes shifted around, trying to figure out what was going on exactly, and let out a distressed grunt as it started to slide backwards. Trying to fight the breeze, the beast began to walk in place. Rain sways his right arm, and suddenly the Ogre's body is flung back, loudly crashing through a tree and into a wall, leaving an impression of his body into it. The ogre tries to unstick himself, only to find the force holding him intensifies further. Lunging forward, Rayn impales the ogre in its chest, and stands there for a moment as his foe's body dissolves away. He breathes strangely, propped up mostly by his lance, his knees shaking, straining to remain standing.

The other ogres look at each other, before approaching Rayn, figuring it was a last burst of strength from a wounded animal. As they approached, however, and one swung at him, Rayn's body seemed to just... sway like a drunk to the side, his body loosely flailing about dizzily, and with a sudden burst of strength in just his right arm, he spun around, his arm transforming into a more bestial form, and connecting his fist into the cheek of the ogre, with such intensity that the impact ripples through the creature's face causing its cheeks to flabbily flop about, before its body was sent hurdling.

The arm he used falls limp again, black feathers molting off from it and dissolving away into blue spirit energy, the arm turning back into that of a human, but it was red, busted up. His body slumps back for a moment, before he twisted around, looking at the other ogre who stepped back, grumbling, actually feeling a tinge of fear for once. Shaking from this, feeling Rayn's dwingling strength, it swung at him with an enraged roar. Rayn sways a bit, dodging it, only getting nicked across his cheek by its sword. The ogre growls, swinging back around, horizontally swinging with its axe, but Rayn leans back, barely being missed. As the ogre stood over him, Rayn tensed his left arm, and impaled the ogre with his lance through its stomach. The lance, no longer able to maintain cohesiveness, dissolves away in black feathers along with the ogre as it falls to its knees.

He didn't know how much he had left, probably not much at all by the feeling of it. He looked at his left hand briefly, shaking. He gripped his fist and turned back to the boy, the bullies, and Darth, and began to slowly approach them, looking almost like a zombie in his swaying gait.

"Boy, is... this what you want, told how to feel about your own pain? How to express your suffering? Someone else to assert control over you?" he said, his voice strained, weak. "He says you don't hear me, but I think you do, you just... don't want to hear. You are angry, very angry, I can feel it, understand it, these others have wronged you in ways that wasn't their right to do so. It is your right to be angry at them, to hate them. But let me tell you this: don't let anyone else pull your strings and tell you how to express that anger, that hatred, and damn well don't let them drag you down and make you worse than they are. They are just fools, fools who do foolish things... and they need to be punished... but... not like this... not by somebody else's terms than your own. Do you understand me, boy..? Darth is... is... just another bully, preying on you... and them... for fun."