It had been a while. Not all that long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough for the place to seem small as he strode through its halls. West had returned to Amityville for paperwork, of all things, and he had stuck around for the rumors. Ancient knights, bonded weapons, women in ponds—they all sounded like things he should probably know more about.
Rather than head to the library or another more traditional repository of knowledge, the demon made his way toward a place that was far more comfortable: the gym. He had every intention of gleaning a bit of information out of some kid during a friendly a**-kicking, but his curiosity faltered when he noticed the hellhound who was already present. He was fairly sure he had never seen this kid before in his life, yet somehow, he still felt familiar.
"Hey," he said, crossing the room at a saunter, hands in his jacket pockets. "Name some people I woulda seen y'with. I know you from somewhere."
PhiferWolf
Posted: Mon Jun 01, 2015 12:52 pm
Smerdle
Dreams. They were a new concept to him since coming to Amityville. It was one night sleeping over at the green-eyed monster's dorm when it had happened. He had startled awake, panting heavily as he glanced around the room. He took in the familiar shapes and the soft breath and warmth beside him. He was in a safe place, he knew that - he felt that. It wasn't too rare that either of the boils would wake from nightmares but this wasn't one. This was a dream. After a lifetime of nightmares, it was abnormal to have a dream. Once then, he understood the realization and depth of nightmares and, certainly, how messed up he really was. Since then, they came occasionally; world of shadows, world of kings, world of mushrooms and talking cats, and, recently, a world of Knights and kings and shadows. It was like a book or... Something. It was as if that being on campus, something on campus, was reaching into the minds of the students.
Shaking his head, Uru pushed himself up from the locker room bench dressed in a black tank top and athletic shorts. He had re-rewritten his notes for the forth time on the topic of Human Behavior of FEAR and General Human Behavior for Human Studies and decided that the gym was a good reward. The gym was his go to for a reward really. It was stress relieving. No stress. Just punch stuff until you're too sore to feel anything. He was making his way across the floor when someone called out to him.
The demon hellhound's eyes narrowed, brows dipping toward the middle. That was a rather forward way to talk to someone but also invasive, too. "Give a name to get a name. As for who I know, I don't feel exactly inclined to tell you who I am around." It was for their safety too. He isn't around a lot of creepers but those he are, he'd defend them tooth and nail. Uru slid on a pair of gloves preparing to go to the punching bags.
Seriously, he may eighteen but he looked a lot older. His jawline was strong, the stubble was fine and went from his sideburns, cheeks, and chin. Hair slightly damped, styles in a way as if one constantly combed their hands through it. Which he does. His eyes a vibrant blue, right, and yellow, left. That only happened when he was tense or untrusting. That fit the situation. "What's it to you?"
PhiferWolf
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Smerdle Crew
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Posted: Tue Jun 02, 2015 7:51 pm
It should have felt like a compliment, that some stupidly familiar guy found him untrustworthy, but West wanted information right now, and skirting the issue wasn't doing it for him. He slid a hand from his pocket and almost held it out to shake, only hesitating because the hellhound had pulled on his gloves. Well, that and the whole marking thing. If his own ghoulfriend didn't trust his uncle's handshake, who knew what other people would think he was up to. There was no way he would be known as a demon who threw his mark around, if he could help it.
"A name fer a name." He scoffed. "Fine. I'm West. I used t'go here. And I know I've seen y'before." He glanced at the boil's hands, eyes narrowing briefly. "You box?" It was almost a worthwhile pastime, at least without the gloves.
PhiferWolf
Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2015 5:12 am
Smerdle
Uru eyed the offered hand, up at his face, and then back to the hand as if it had somehow offended him. Manners. He had them. He had manners, he was raised 'right'. He was a tactile demon, touch meant a lot; ranged from comfort, healing, to marking and threat-making. Judging from this one - and his scent - he was a demon. Where on the spectrum of tactile content did this gesture fall onto? He stifled a growl as he reached out to grasp the proffered hand. He made sure to give it a strong grip, as most males do.
"You..." The memory slowly fell into place. There was a big wheel. A giant creature of some sort. Lights. Laughter. The smell of deep fried food. The sound of ringing bells and buzzers. There were other faces around him, around his face. Damien was beside him introducing him to older individuals. One of them was Bul. Another, a female, with no mouth that spoke to his mind. And, him. West. "We met at the Carnival, at Bul's booth with Damien." His eyes narrowed, the words coming out slowly as the firmness of their shake slackened as realization settled in. This was an acquaintance of Damien's and, for that, any tension ebbed away. Not entirely. He took his hand away shortly after, shaking it off without a thought.
Uru's eyes followed the demon's eyes to his free hand. "It's one of my forms of fighting." He offered. He didn't include that he had a style that also incorporated a heavy-kick techniques or how he switches to his natural form natural for swiping. He can go from predictable boxing to kick boxing to streetfighting to wild fangs and claws. "Come here to keep form."
"Ah! Yeah, yeah, that's right." He'd barely spent any time at the carnival, but he'd seen Demi and Bul and the guy they'd been with... and yes, this was him. Kind of formal, wasn't he? And so untrusting. 'Give a name to get a name,' he'd said, and the hound still hadn't given his.
Rarely did West get the urge to wrath up the Halloween populace. Not these days when he had humans to attend to, humans who were so receptive to his particular brand of rage. But it wouldn't hurt to do this guy, for old time's sake. He was curious to see how the young man and his forms would change when spiked with a bit of anger.
He opened a narrow channel of FEAR as they shook, directing it into the boil as nonchalantly as he could. West expected a tighter grip in return, a furrowed brow, a snarl, but there was nothing. In fact, he almost felt soothed instead. Almost. He had learned a while back how to hold onto the seething core that made him who he was through almost any situation. He remembered all too well the whiny, sympathetic creature he devolved into when he wasn't careful.
"You wanna fight now?" he asked. "Fer practice." West grinned.
If he couldn't push past whatever barrier the other had in place, at least he could tenderize him a little on the outside. Demi and Bul wouldn't mind.
Uru smirked, standing upright to his full height as he turned toward the demon. So it would appear that the punching bag was going to be put in the back-seat because a challenge was issued. Unlike most demons who relied on their FEARs and magics and spells, Uru did none of that - mostly. His flames were powerful; they could freeze, they could rupture the skin and destroy the skin, it could chill the room around it as it devoured heat, but it was also uncontrollable. He was a Hobgoblin and he could only control whose heat it takes. In fact, it wasn't too long ago did he finally grasp the other ability unique to the Hel'wurgen for their duties as guides.
So this was going to be a fight with fists for the most part.
"You can call me Uru." The demon hound grasped the Avarice demon's hand when he felt an inkling - probably the best way to describe it - stir inside. His gaze twitched lightly at the foreign sensation. In retaliation for one to use their FEAR, he did one in turn. However, unlike West, his tactile FEAR isn't as subtle. Slowly a faint blue wisp-like smoke raised from their contact. This was the second time he has ever used it; the displacing of one's negative emotions and pain, to calm and soothe.
The blue-yellow eyed demon gave a hearty laugh as he pulled his hands away onto his waist. His chest out and large. "A challenge? Considered it accepted." Uru lowered himself into a stance, one foot out with both arms out, ducking into himself.
"Give me your best shot."
BATTLE INFO
HP: 50/50 Atk: 2d10 -6
T1 (5d4 ) Siphon (The Chill) - Small blue smokey wisps from his fingers as he places it on target, sapping pain away from the individual. T2 (3d4 ) Creeping Frost (Tainted Fang) - While distracting with attacks, a swipe of his palm creates a creeping frost on the contacted area. T3 (9d4 ) Cocytus Fang (Battle Cry) - Aggressive kick-boxing maneuvers with signature cold-flames engulfing his feet and fists. Contact gives a cold-burning sensation.
Smerdle
1. I suck 2. I don't have a lot of xp sparing. 3. Waaaaah!
"Nice t'meet ya." And it was. This guy might have been guarded, but he was certainly game enough for a fight, and that willingness went far in West's book. Very far.
He didn't waste any time, clenching his fists and crouching into something approaching a defensive stance. West didn't really do defense. He looked far more convincing when he lunged for the other boil, throwing a decent amount of power into an abrupt jab he aimed at Uru's face. He laughed as it connected, a brief, inconsiderate, and high-pitched chuckle. It wasn't actually his best shot, but it was definitely a nice opener.
HP: 60/60 Damage: 11
Quote:
Burst of Clarity (T3 The Eye) - nothing visible, tis but a buff Fist of Fury (T2 Gambler's Chance) - magic punch with glowy red fist Bamm-Bamm (T1 Swift Strikes) - lots of little magic punches all over the place
i really need to put in for his actual graduate fears whoops this will do for now
PhiferWolfx
no worries! there's not a lot to mess up or i wouldn't do them c:
The demon lunged at him first, fist drawn back as he put the weight of his being and gravity land the blow. Uru couldn't get his hands up fast enough - no, he just thought blocking his face would protect him sufficiently. He was wrong, the blow came, connecting with his cheek. Using the momentum, the demon hound extended his arm to catch the opponent while he was close. This was an alumni, that much he recalled from their previous encounter. There was a large gap of experience between them.
Uru grinned at the demon's cackle as he re-positioned himself. "You pack a punch, West. Pretty strong, for a demon." Not an insult - no, it was a compliment. It was the strength of a demon that put forth the effort for physicality rather than relying on FEAR. While demons may not be as strong as monsters or undead, he was glad to know that there were some demons out there that could give them a good run for their silver seeds.
BATTLE INFO
HP: 39/50 Damage: 3
T1 (5d4 ) Siphon (The Chill) - Small blue smokey wisps from his fingers as he places it on target, sapping pain away from the individual. T2 (3d4 ) Creeping Frost (Tainted Fang) - While distracting with attacks, a swipe of his palm creates a creeping frost on the contacted area. T3 (9d4 ) Cocytus Fang (Battle Cry) - Aggressive kick-boxing maneuvers with signature cold-flames engulfing his feet and fists. Contact gives a cold-burning sensation.
The counter was too quick for him to block, but West powered through it easily, even reveled in the sting that tingled through his jaw in its wake. He had always thought that pain was wonderful proof that he was alive and himself, and he maintained that attitude still, even after all of the times he had wandered into life threatening danger while supposedly safe in his bed.
He paused, taking an inadvertent half step back for balance. Another thing he took without thinking: immediate offense to Uru's comment, so much so that he mindlessly lashed out, failing to aim at all as his fist connected again.
What did he mean "for a demon"? He packed a punch for anybody. West drew back his fist, preparing to strike again when something struck him instead. Demons were weak and he was not. He had worked hard to become more, to avoid the crutches of marking and magic, and this was an acknowledgment of that. He dropped his arm slightly and then completely as he prepared to block.
"Gotta keep trainin'. You know how it is."
He hadn't pegged this guy as a demon until their handshake, though that bit of power he had felt wasn't really proof of anything. If Uru was one of those monster hellhounds, then West supposed he would just have to look like a clueless a**.
HP: 57/60 Damage: 8
Quote:
Burst of Clarity (T3 The Eye) - nothing visible, tis but a buff Fist of Fury (T2 Gambler's Chance) - magic punch with glowy red fist Bamm-Bamm (T1 Swift Strikes) - lots of little magic punches all over the place
PhiferWolf
i'm sorry ;; prom prep and general stupidity are eating my face
Uru grinned in response. He knew all too well of having to work one self beyond the limitations. Work beyond what is assumed to become something different. Many feared different. Many feared changed. He once had.
He hunted on his own. He had ran on his own. He had worked out on his own. He had sparred on his own. Each led to their own sort of pain that his body had acclimated to. The pain that made him ache, the burning beneath the skin that lingered for days. The pain that hardened him and made him what he was today. The punches this demon through, the assault from just about anyone, it was a different sort of pain. A pain that he welcomed. A pain that would make him stronger still. A demon did not obtain a body such as this sitting in a study with books working magics and spells. These muscles held memories of movements and maneuvers, attacks and blocks, and the spells worked on them. This was a body of a fighter.
Uru did not relent, he took blows as they came, but he did not falter, he kept the distance between them close. On the off chance this demon indeed had a spell or two that could be worked on him from afar, he wasn't going to give this demon a chance to cast it. His gloved fists erupted into flames as blue as the frozen lake - a cold soul. Eyes flashed their solid colors as he went into a practiced routine.
Right hook to the collar bone. Left jab at the shoulder as it came forward. A right upper at the rib. Left foot sweep at the shin. One-two punch to the sternum. An outward thrust of the leg.
Every so often, he changed it, but it was practiced, it was routine. As his humanoid shape, his stances and blows were predictable. It was when he shifted to his natural state when things got erratic and wild. It was then that he used the surprise to land blows.
This wasn't the time or place for that.
"As a demon, I'd expected you to keep your distance. Not gonna work your magicks on me?" Uru taunted as he held his stance. Jack, his shoulder was kinda aching.
BATTLE INFO
Damage Done: 18 Damage Taken: 8 HP: 31/50
T1 (5d4 ) Siphon (The Chill) - Small blue smokey wisps from his fingers as he places it on target, sapping pain away from the individual. T2 (3d4 ) Creeping Frost (Tainted Fang) - While distracting with attacks, a swipe of his palm creates a creeping frost on the contacted area. T3 (9d4 ) Cocytus Fang (Battle Cry) - Aggressive kick-boxing maneuvers with signature cold-flames engulfing his feet and fists. Contact gives a cold-burning sensation.
Smerdle
It's all good, it is kinda cool that Uru is meeting another demon who is physical than magic. Now whip out that FEAR and cream him, West!
West did make a point of training properly these days. He blocked and dodged and was careful to an acceptable degree, but most of his former sparring success had stemmed from his willingness to push forward no matter what he faced. That same willingness had helped him move past the horsemen's vision that had seen everyone he cared for turned into a mindless weapon. And Red's fire. The memory of his death had dulled over the years, but it returned now, warped by time into a crashing wave of panic that left him cold before Uru even touched him.
As the hellhound's hands ignited, West's eyes grew wide enough to reflect the flames in their depths. He had screamed and punched, waved his hands an inch in front of their noses and hadn't been seen. He had been dead, no better than the misty creatures that had surrounded him in that place. It had been terrifying.
He barely defended against his opponent's practiced strikes, barely felt them until the other spoke and West bit back a shout. He wanted to do as Uru said, to call on his FEAR and pummel him into unconsciousness, but he couldn't catch his breath, let alone focus enough to do such a thing. He swung wildly once again, pain radiating from his ribs, chest, shoulder as he did so. He wasn't dead. He was right here. Punchable. West smiled, the chuckle that escaped him now only slightly airy.
"I'm keepin' close t'see all those fancy moves, hotshot. I never did get the hang of kickin' proper."
HP: 39/60 Damage: 8
Quote:
Burst of Clarity (T3 The Eye) - nothing visible, tis but a buff Fist of Fury (T2 Gambler's Chance) - magic punch with glowy red fist Bamm-Bamm (T1 Swift Strikes) - lots of little magic punches all over the place
Closing distances among ranged opponents was wise. Often they are left vulnerable, unable to fulfill their chants or string whatever they needed to retaliate when their target is directly in front of them. Sure, there was the risk of being point blank, but it let at least get some blows in before taking one himself. However, when it came to those who also preferred the same method of combat meant that he was going to be taking more blows than he would have liked. It would become a battle of attrition. A battle Uru was quickly losing.
It was a blow to the jaw that left him staggering backwards as his fist went out into an arc toward West.
"That was... that was a good one." Uru commented, rubbing his stubbled jaw. It didn't go unnoticed - the brief spike in a scent among them. It was panic. It was panic that stemmed from West. Whatever it was, West showed no superficial signs of it. His eyes narrowed on the demon. "You alright over there? Or do you want us to stop?" he teased - well, half tease and half concerned.
BATTLE INFO
Damage Done: 2 Damage Taken: 8 HP: 23/50
T1 (5d4 ) Siphon (The Chill) - Small blue smokey wisps from his fingers as he places it on target, sapping pain away from the individual. T2 (3d4 ) Creeping Frost (Tainted Fang) - While distracting with attacks, a swipe of his palm creates a creeping frost on the contacted area. T3 (9d4 ) Cocytus Fang (Battle Cry) - Aggressive kick-boxing maneuvers with signature cold-flames engulfing his feet and fists. Contact gives a cold-burning sensation.
Smerdle
Tagging would be a good idea...
PhiferWolf
Loyal Werewolf
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Smerdle rolled 2 4-sided dice:
3, 1Total: 4 (2-8)
Smerdle Crew
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Posted: Sun Jul 12, 2015 5:59 pm
Did he want to stop? West very nearly hit the hellhound again for suggesting such a thing. He didn't much like that Uru had known something was wrong, but that didn't change the fact that he was still unsettled or that a pause would have been appreciated, even if it was unwanted. That wouldn't do.
Calling on the particular power that had once pulled him so deeply that he lost himself to it, West let it rush through him now without worry, feeling the hair on his arms lift slightly as it settled. The panic fled where it touched, pushing out the awful memories in favor of simple clarity. He could see what he needed to do. Whether he actually accomplished it was something fate and random chance had a hand in, but that was not a concern.
"I've got it," West said, his monotone hardly reassuring. At least he smelled calm now.
HP: 37/60 Damage: 0
Quote:
using T3 The Eye - successful for one turn (-3 instead of -6 modifier or +3 accuracy for any FEAR)
Burst of Clarity (T3 The Eye) - nothing visible, tis but a buff Fist of Fury (T2 Gambler's Chance) - magic punch with glowy red fist Bamm-Bamm (T1 Swift Strikes) - lots of little magic punches all over the place
Uru got himself into position with a nod, confirming that the battle was ongoing. He was moved forward quick and calculating, his eyes focused squarely on the demon before him. He lept forward with a forward thrust of his right fist, bringing up his knee - not only to cover his exposed chest, but to drive it into his opponent if he had made a misstep.
"Come at me, West!"
BATTLE INFO
Damage Done: 8 Damage Taken: 0 HP: 23/50
T1 (5d4 ) Siphon (The Chill) - Small blue smokey wisps from his fingers as he places it on target, sapping pain away from the individual. T2 (3d4 ) Creeping Frost (Tainted Fang) - While distracting with attacks, a swipe of his palm creates a creeping frost on the contacted area. T3 (9d4 ) Cocytus Fang (Battle Cry) - Aggressive kick-boxing maneuvers with signature cold-flames engulfing his feet and fists. Contact gives a cold-burning sensation.
His opponent's strike landed just after West called his power again, and between its flagrant backfiring and Uru's fist and knee, the wrath demon nearly toppled. His world slowed to a crawl as his FEAR enhancement wore off and he caught his own strike squarely in the chest. It burned worse than dissipation, or if not, it stunned him badly enough that he wondered why he had ever bothered to learn this stupid technique at all. The punch followed, hitting his jaw so hard that he swore he heard it crack. For a moment after, all he could do was stand still, leaving himself wide open to retaliation.
HP: 37 - 8 - 14 = 15/60 Damage: 0
Quote:
using T2 Gambler's Chance (+3 accuracy from The Eye - still a fail)
Burst of Clarity (T3 The Eye) - nothing visible, tis but a buff Fist of Fury (T2 Gambler's Chance) - magic punch with glowy red fist Bamm-Bamm (T1 Swift Strikes) - lots of little magic punches all over the place
