Location: The Manor: Outside With:Alone; Vengeance
Wrath could not shake the feeling that there was something present within the manor other than herself. It had been quite some time since the other Sins had vanished, returning to the dark heart of this realm when their hosts had vanished. The mad elf had found herself alone with the orks, the other having vanished as mysteriously as they had appeared. It would seem that similar events were taking place. "...I know you're here..." she growled, impatiently searching, following an inkling of a feeling through the unhallowed halls of the Manor, heading towards the kitchens. "...There's no use in hiding. I will find you," she said to the still, empty air. She picked up the pace, yet her booted steps made no sound on the stone floors. Her deep black cloak followed in her wake, whipping in the air as she turned a corner sharply.
The call to battle, The Song of War.
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:01 pm
Greynights77
Yuki
There it was, just as she had been told; a town of violence at the base of a hill crowned with evil. Yuki was surprised at how noisy it was, yet somewhere within was what she was searching for. She took the first step into the city and could feel the eyes on her. Her appearance was unnatural in human settlements, but here she stuck out like a sore thumb. On all sides the young, pale girl was surrounded by hulking green bodies of various sizes and shapes. Some were much larger than her, others were small and skittering around. One particularly large one decided it didn't like the look of her and moved towards her, the behemoth was easily twice Yuki's size and rippled with muscle and scars. "Yous kind's ain't welcome 'ere. Grog 'onna make a example outta yous." "Was that some kind of language? Or did you just growl sounds around your disgusting tusks?" The ork laughed loudly and gestured for his two companions to join him. The other two were a little smaller than the one that called itself 'Grog', but no less muscular and intimidating to the average person. But the average person didn't have a chainsaw for a right arm. Grog and his two buddies formed a triangle around Yuki to keep her from escaping. Grog raised a twisted battle axe over his head, the other two followed suit with their own weapons. Yuki made no move to respond or escape, but instead watched as Grog laughed again and the three orks swung their weapons to crush the girl. When the three weapons crushed nothing but the ground, the orks all shared a look of confusion. It had appeared as though the girl suddenly turned into a red mist right before the triad of weapons made contact. Said mist then wisped away behind the smallest of the orks where it reformed into Yuki. She hopped onto the ork's shoulders and slid her long katana into his neck as effortlessly as if it had been butter. With a twist of her wrist, the ork's head was cut cleanly from it's residence and fell to the ground. Grog attempted to repeat his attack on Yuki, but only succeeded in decimating the body of his former comrade. Yuki reappeared behind the other unnamed ork before leaping up and allowing her chainsaw to rip him in half. Orkish blood sprayed Grog, Yuki, and the surrounding street as the henchman fell left and right. Grog laughed even louder than before, "Yous got a bit uh fight in yous girly. Aint jus' anybo'y can take out two uh mah boys like it aint nothin'." Uh, thanks... I think. Are we going to finish what you started now?" "Ah'd like to girly, but how about we has us a drink an a chat?" "First you and your henchmen attack me, and now you want me to go for a drink with you?" "Das right, I know somethin you wanna know." Grog turned and stomped off towards where the town turned into more of some kind of encampment. Yuki was tempted to just cut him in half, his back made for a particularly easy target; and there was no way some dumb green goliath would actually know about it... would he? The prospect of a proper lead was more tempting than spilling more fowl smelling monster blood, but just barely. Yuki decided to follow Grog into the field of tents, to see what little knowledge he possessed. They made their way toward the largest tent in sight, the odds of this being some kind of trap seemed to be increasing. But that didn't matter to Yuki; if this Brute knew something, she would have the information, and if not... well what's one more body on the ever growing pile?
(((First one done, let me know if I ever overstep my bounds. Sometimes I get a bit carried away once I start writing.))) *edited* (((I think that should fit better, I'll adjust as I learn more about the world.)))
Roilvn Whiro
Remember you lot of grot lovers...
Dread chuckled and looked towards Razza without actually looking at him. "So wutz wez gotta do Razza?" He took a long drink off of his fungus beer.
He looked towards the door of the tent. Before he shifted his gaze back near the Warphead. He started feel his skin crawl from the pulse of the waaaggghhhhh between them.
"Well, seeing as you and her never told me what brought you here, despite my asking, I suggest you start by telling me what brought you here. Preferably in great detail," he said, pausing for a while thoughtfully before continuing.
"Unless, of course, you'd prefer I take da information from your mind. I'll have to warn you, I'm not very good at dat, so, whatever happens it will likely be quite a show."
Roilvn Whiro
(OOC I need to make a header and a footer for this character eventually.)
The rift tearing did not go unnoticed. About a quarter of the camp felt it right as it happened, and with the increased energy coming from the weird boys camp it was starting to become too much. The green tide seemed to come together in preparation of a surge.
It did take a moment for the tide to start, due to a minor fight that killed a dozen orks while deciding who got to lead the charge. Before too long it was decided that it was going to be lead by a fairly young and scarred nob named Footchoppa. The Roar could be heard at first, followed by the rumble of the ground, then the start of the tide reached the Cyborg.
(This is cannon fodder time, feel free to kill the first few squads)
Footchoppa's squad charged as the tip with all the tactics and glory that the Goffs could manage. Its not that it was none, just not a great deal. From the right side of the new comer there was a burst of newly aquired gunfire from the new Mek in town. The guns has been well made, but nearly every single shot was missed with the loud roar of "DAKKADAKKADAKKA" Being heard from both the guns, and the orks holding them. Then the call of the charge was heard.
"WAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!"
~Meanwhile!~
A squad of orks watched the tear appear in the sky, and all of them seemed excited except for the smallest of them. He was a short ork, about 5'10, and looked absolutely nothing like an ork and more akin to some crazy person that painted themselves green head to toe and joined in on the fight. He held a small black choppa with a gold nob at the end. Made fun of by his squad mates for both his size as well as his fancy weapon, he would most likely have been crushed underfoot if he was not so orky to his companions. Gorebath looked over to Odd'un. "Deres fightin wif da spiky boyz ova dere, lets get ta fightin!" The nob yelled out.
Gorebath's Boys let out a roar, and the small one known as Odd'un roared and smiled from ear to ear as he they joined the fight for the tide, however Footchoppa had already taken the lead, so they fell in behind him, the fourth squad to meet the new comer. Gorebath chuckled darkly as they began to sing their odd praised to Gork, Mork, and the battle itself for giving them something to do.
~BACK TO THE FRONT OF THE LINE~
The massive Goff hammer of Footchoppa swung low, trying to knock the legs out from under the new guy, two goblins jumping off of Footchoppa's back. The eight other orks that followed behind him followed close, excited to get into the fighting,. Expecting more boys through the rift any second the orks flooded around him, trying to make it to the rift to meet those who had been coming, or to get to the other side themselves for more fightin.
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:03 pm
Roilvn Whiro
Remember you lot of grot lovers...
Dread scratched his chin as he thought.
Why did they come here? Dread did not want to come here, that was for sure. He liked where his head was. Was it for the chairs? They where very nice chairs after all.
No, that was grot talk, he did not know of the chairs when he left. Same with that crazy doctor that he had met on the way in. HE shifted in his chair for a few seconds before he snapped his large fingers.
"Wraf wanted to ask yea somefing." He nodded with confidence. The large tusked ork felt nearly as well as the man who finally will answer the question of why humanity is here.
I is the biggest, so I is the Boss
Renegade Proxy
Relief was a momentary thing, the stress of walking the Void soon replaced by that of an alien world. Slowly at first, one after another, their signatures were marked, quickly resolving into a tide of enumeration. This overlaid the heat signatures tracked by the eyes beneath that convenient visor whose readouts only added to the growing sense that this perhaps was not the best destination to have stumbled upon. A veritable living wall was already surging from the ruined buildings all around, emerging as if from the very woodwork as they rushed down streets and through alleyways to converge on the newest thing to grace what was apparently their territory. +++Although the skin was different and the hair on those who had any was darker than the usual shade, the object of their passion recognised an ogroid when confronted by one. Here there were many, in all the sizes that on a distant, more familiar world, denoted the full breadth of orc, ogre and troll. Further speculation was drowned in the roaring cry of a dozen dozen throats, their singular voice nearly drowning out the repeating gunfire that arced clumsily from one side. Bullet trajectory, speed, even an approximation of calibre flashed through a mind helped along by integrated mechanics, the spray scattering all around to no effect. +++‘System cool-down in progress, systems at ten-percent capacity.’ +++This recited even as the leading brute’s weapon drew an arc toward the stranger’s legs. Eagerness it seemed, won out over finesse, a sentiment that their victim shared. Altered perceptions showed the tableau in slow motion, the sudden press of bodies calling forth a surge of adrenaline that made some part of the stranger smile. Leg lifting, the limb came crashing down with all the force its owner could muster, multiple tonnes fit to crack solid steel right on the hammer’s head. Legs bending, the stranger was launched in a leap straight for the weapon’s wielder. Leading with one knee, a scatter of blood and teeth greeted the smaller pair that leapt from their companion's shoulders as their target blurred past. +++Not willing to leave them to their own flight, each was grabbed in either hand. Held as though by a vice, their weight was hardly enough to slow the stranger, whose trajectory carried all three to the half-caved roof of a nearby building. Now with a moment to breathe and room to think, the captured creatures were given a once over as they clawed frenetically for release. Each was scanned in turn, the visor over their captor’s eyes offering nothing but a smooth black plane reflecting their thrashing limbs and snarling faces and two pairs of eyes that bugged nearly out of their sockets as the hands began to squeeze. A gurgling pop and rolling crackle saw the two go limp, bodies dropped unceremoniously into the throng that waited below.
Razza quirked an eyebrow in an expression that was both equal parts amused and annoyed.
"Indeed. In fact, I was dere when she stated as much. Somefing about me and my 'fellows' being able to help you both with a 'particularly difficult problem,' I believe she put it. However, she never stated what dat particular problem is. Now, I assume dat problem still exists, as she left you here to fix it. So, da way I see it, we have 4 main options," he said, beginning to hold up fingers as he listed them.
"One: you remember what it is dat needed fixing and you tell me." Razza paused slightly after saying that to give a as if that's going to happen look to no one in particular.
"Two: I attempt to read da information from your mind. I'd like to stress attempt, and 'read' really means more of a 'rip out forcefully' if I must admit. I'm sure neiver of us really wants dat, so let's label dat option a 'no.'
"Free: you tell me where Wraff is likely to be and I ask her myself. Fairly simple.
"Four, and finally: we just stare awkwardly at eachuvver until eiver you get bored and wander off or dat zogging wonky aura you call a WAAAGH field builds up and causes my head to explode. I'd like to add, dat neiver of dese options are likely to curry her favor. I'd suspect she'd likely be quite cross, as a matter of fact.
"So... Which is it? Tell me what's da problem," he said with a dubious look, "let me read your mind," he said with his eyes wide and shaking his head slowly in an emphatic no, "tell me where to find her and I'll ask her myself," he said this one with a genuinely hopeful expression before shifting to a grossly sardonic tone and expression for the last option, "or we just continue staring at eachuvver while avoiding eye contact and not talking until whatever da universe has planned for us takes its course?"
Greynights77
Yuki
Yuki was still following Grog through the buildings and tents when somewhere not too far off, things started exploding. Orks began running from wherever they were, ditching whatever they were doing, to join the fight. Yuki was becoming irritated that, once again, something was getting in her way. She finally had a fresh lead, and now there was some large scale battle going on within earshot.
A particularly large group of orcs came charging from a mostly-intact building near Yuki and her current guide. At least 25 particularly large and brutish Orks, and a handful of smaller ones decided they didn't feel like going around Yuki, instead believing it would be far easier to just trample her and move on. That was their mistake. The lead ork intended to crush Yuki with one large foot; however instead of the satisfying crunch of a dead body, the ork felt the intense pain of a blade slicing his leg in half the long way. The sudden shock brought the brute to his knees, leaving his neck effortlessly in range of Yuki's katana.
With their vanguard beheaded, the remaining orks paused for a brief moment before exchanging an almost instinctual understanding. They all rushed Yuki at the same time, even with all of her power she knew she wouldn't be able to fight off a mob like this without risking severe injury and wasting a lot of time. "Damn, this is going to take a while." A second later Yuki was in a chaotic brawl for her life, now that they had seen her speed and power, the orks were on guard and were done underestimating her. They would not be as easily defeated as the others.
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:06 pm
Summer16608
Lilith looked at Gluttony, with a dark smile. The fact that he wanted to work with her, meant she might have some fun. Though she wasn't truly stupid. "If your so powerful, then whats the catch? I am in, just want to know the full details" She giggled, fully silencing her brother. It was her time to shine. This body was in her full control. She tilted her head to the side waiting for an answer. She wanted to have free reign over this realm. Wanted power, needed power. She was so bored, and tired of the normal.
[OOC: SOO Sorry its so short and took forever, I totally thought I responded to this]
ChainsawDooM
Roxxo's Description:
He looks sort of like this, but green and orky and with other changes.
Dok Roxxo was about 7'2", taller if he wasn't hunched over, like all Orks. He had a long, flowing black and orange mohawk and his face was painted black, with the ghostly image of a skull painted onto that in white. He wore a small, tight, black leather vest that was flung open with nothing but his muscled green skin underneath, black leather pants that seemed to have been stitched together from many varied scraps, and black, belted leather boots. All of his leather seemed almost unnaturally glossy. His ensemble was complemented by bandoleers of ammunition and a belt with a flaming skull buckle, as well as a leather band with large spikes on his left bicep.
For weapons, he had a huge black revolver with an orange cylinder reminiscent of a pumpkin on his left hip. Strapped to his left arm was a giant syringe, filled with what looked like a boiling, viscous green fluid. His right arm from the collarbone down was bionik and painted jet black with what appeared to be orange patterns tracing down his bicep and the inside of his forearm, and ending an a large and very dangerous looking buzzsaw. Upon close inspection, the orange patterns on the bicep and the inside of the forearm resolved into bladed, bloodstained chains, and the buzzsaw at the end looked like it was once also painted orange, but had been mostly stripped of paint by use and stained by blood. The buzzsaw could be turned 360 degrees, and could also be inverted into the arm to bring out a powerful stapling mechanism.
Roxxo exuded an aura of wrongness and taint, similar to the aura of malice itself. He also felt like he'd been touched a bit to much by the weirdness of the weird boys, for those who had a sense for such things. The two auras were odd and disconcerting, but not remotely strong enough to inspire true revulsion like the touch of Chaos would. They were strong enough to be noticeable and put those nearby on edge, though... not that his behavior wouldn't do a good enough job of that on its own.
He smelled unmistakably of rotting pumpkin, leather, and baby powder.
His ride was a wartrike in the style of a Harley chopper, painted a shiny black with the piping, fuel tanks, and engine chromed. Each cylinder's exhaust had its own tube, each terminating at a different point on the trike, with no apparent pattern. These would shoot out continual gouts of flame and massive columns of soot while the vehicle was running.
Roxxo's gang and their rides descriptions (This is long):
Jakko was 6'10" and used a huge spanner as his weapon. He wore a ripped and grease-stained black, quilted leather sleeveless shirt underneath a studded leather vest with overly large coattails that draped almost to the backs of his knees. His massive green forearms were bare except for the covering of soot and engine grease that painted them black save for the streaks of green where rivulets of sweat had sloughed off the caked-on filth. His face was covered by a large, orange-painted, round metal helmet similar in design to a pumpkin which had glowing triangular lenses for the eyes that an observer might assume improved his vision. The mouth was a jagged cut in the metal, like the maw of a shark or other vicious great beast, and it spouted flames from two concealed tubes that wound down the sides of his neck, underneath his vest, and into a group of canisters on his belt, which was brown squig-leather with a buckle shaped liked crossed spanners. His pants and boots were black squig-leather: sturdy, yet unremarkable.
Jakko's bike looked like this, but with heavier armor and a sickly green glow that spilled from the eyes and lit up the wheels and underneath the bike.
Wakko was 7'. His forearms and hands from below the elbow and down were replaced by heavy, black prosthetics, and he had thick, iron chains wrapped around both arms that he could uncoil and extend to use as weapons, or leave as they were for devastating clotheslines or punches. His chest and arms were bare save for two black squig-leather straps that held two steel canisters on his back like a backpack. Each of these canisters was painted black, with orange caution stripes and ork glyphs denoting "Speed", "Waaagh", and "Lightning". Each also had a single tube that ran into his back, where the kidneys would be on a human. His pants were of black squig-leather, and they had a quilted pattern on the inside of his legs along his inner thighs from crotch to ankle, while the outer sides had a pattern of black and orange checks running the length of the left leg, and caution stripes in a band on his right. He had a large, pink liberty spike mohawk and wore a steel gas mask securely attached to his face via an array of straps. The mask was black, and had the voice amplifier on the front with the canister off to the right side. It was featureless, save for a pattern of orange, triangular checks in a "V" pattern down the front of the mask which incorporated the mask's two eyepieces into the pattern, which were also orange and triangular.
His bike looked like the demonic offspring of a Kawasaki superbike and orkish armor, painted in stunning blacks and oranges with spikes in all the right intimidating places.
Waldo "Wally" Zogoffski was 6'8". He wore what resembled a haggard, squig-leather night cap striped in alternating orange and black, fashioned into a hood with a stiff tail that meandered crazily upwards before drooping back down and ending festooned with a chromed steel spikey ball. His torso was armored with a laminar chestpiece with a high, gorget-like collar, its steel bands alternating orange and black, and his arms were armored in black-iron, riveted chain links. His boots and pants were white squig-leather, and the pants were decorated with a double-layer band of black-and-white checkers down the sides. His eyes had been replaced by almost comically large, black binocular-like prosthetic eyes. He wielded a large, spherical spiked flail attached to what appeared to be half an axle by three feet of heavy chain.
His bike was a heavily armored scooter with a stupidly large engine. Thick slabs of metal covered the front, and two large, black and orange striped tusks reminiscent of candy canes framed the most rude of orkish glyphs proudly displayed at the front and center of his bike.
Skully was 7' tall. He wore an open-face helmet shaped and painted like a giant, yellowed human skull with a single chrome Prussian spike on the top and black, squig-leather flaps that covered his ears and neck. His entire lower jaw was clearly bionik and skeletal in design, a gleaming chrome mandible, tusks and all. Every inch of flesh on his body was body painted white, and he wore an open, dirty tan leather vest which showed a very thick, fully metal, chromed rib-cage. His leggings were the same dirty tan leather as his vest, while his boots were a darker, muddier brown. He wielded a large, two-handed big choppa, unadorned and painted black, the blade polished to a silver sheen: wickedly long, straight, and cruel-looking with a jagged finish.
His bike looked like this, but with heavier armor.
Bone 'ead was 7'6", had almost no neck due to his massive shoulder muscles (some of the only flesh still showing on his form), and was built like a tank, even for an ork. It looked like the skin on his head had been removed somehow, the bare bone now visible, and there were black-iron spike piercings on the top of his skull, like he had an evil morningstar for his head. He covered the rest of his face with a black bandanna with the skull's grin on it, the image marred only by the pair of dirty, yellowed tusks that pierced through it, and his eyes were replaced with a black visor prosthesis that was black and glowing orange. The rest of his body was obviously heavily augmented with bioniks and cybork parts: his pecs looked like they had been replaced with engine blocks, but whether they were prosthetic or some kind of eccentric armor one couldn't be sure; his torso and back were armored by large, segmented slabs of black iron; and his arms and legs were masses of steel, armored but otherwise uncovered. He wielded a large warhammer, the head of which was reminiscent of his skull.
His bike was more like a 4-wheeled ATV, with additional slabs of armor built into a slope along the front, and what appeared to be small jet engines supplementing his already massive engine strapped near the rear on the sides.
Mr. Skraps was 7'2". Covered in numerous scars, and with different shades of flesh from obvious "donations" all over his body, it was hard to tell what parts of him were original anymore. Probably none of him. It wasn't even certain if he was actually a nob by growth, or if those were merely the parts that were most readily available. He wore a ragged, brown squig-leather jacket and pants that looked just as stitched together and repaired as he was, with black boots with very thick soles. He wielded a large car axle that had been fashioned into a sturdy weapon at one point, but now appeared to have been bent, straightened (poorly), broken, and welded back together many times.
His bike was a jumbled patchwork of different styles, the only thing in common between them, other than their cobbled-together appearance, was the thickness and overall blockiness of their design, as if the mekaniak had just given up trying to make something with any style to it and just opted to make it as easy to fit replacements as possible.
Meaney was 6'10". He wore a black, modern looking motorcycle helmet with no visor and an orange saw-blade mohawk attached to his helmet. He wore a stylishly stitched together biker suit made out of black squig-leather with orange padding/armoring and tall, shiny black jackboots. He wielded a large car axle with wicked spikes welded through it, looking not unlike a massive spiked bat.
Miney was 6'6". He wore a very dark gray, almost black steel biker helmet, although the bottom of the helmet underneath the face mask jutted out in a wedge with a grille punched through it, accented with a painting of the gaping maw of a shark. He wore a studded black and dark gray padded biker suit with three sharp, orange-painted blade-like fins along his spine, black boots with orange straps, and mid-forearm length gloves with similar fins and straps. He wielded a large one-handed choppa with a v-shaped blade, serrated and bloody on the inside like the maw of a shark.
Moe was 6'9". He wore a black biker helmet with an orange-painted steel hockey mask welded onto the front. His black padded biker suit was ripped and tattered, showing bare green flesh underneath, but still looked fairly functional and protective. He wore ankle-height, but very thick ans sturdy looking black boots, and black fingerless gloves. He wielded a large, one-handed chopper that looked like a machete.
Meaney, Miney, and Moe's bikes all resembled armored dirtbikes, with painting and very minor styling fitting their themes.
Welcome to the jungle, we got fun and games. We got everything you want, honey we know the names.
From in the distance the deep, throaty roars of many engines approaching began to make themselves heard. As they got closer, six small "whumps" could be picked up over the din, followed shortly by six large explosions in the shabby building Grog had been leading Yuki. The building shook and groaned, before the shrieking of metal and snapping of rock and wood signaled its collapse, as the building fell into a heap.
... a very ramp-like heap.
As the roar of thirsty combustion engines greedily drinking down their volatile cocktails reached a crescendo, another voice joined into the chorus of mayhem. A high, keening wail could be heard piercing through over the bass-heavy din, accompanied by shouts and whoops of excitement and encouragement.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH"
Bikes of various configurations bearing riders who were just as variously equipped rocketed over the newly created ramp, all but two managing to keep themselves on their bikes.
Of the two unseated rider, Roxxo seemed to have come off his trike by choice. He led the formation, although he was currently doing a handstand in midair, his left arms buzzsaw slid onto the handlebar while his right hand was busy holstering his oversized revolver.
The other rider to come off his bike... didn't look like he hand done it on purpose. Mr Skraps and his bike tumbled gracelessly through the air, the ork slamming into one of the dumbstruck orks standing below, while his bike flattened one of the smaller orks even as it tried to dodge out of the way.
Roxxo reseated himself on his trike and slammed into the ground in front of Yuki and Grog, screaming in between the both of them, his bike spewing gouts of flame and soot. As he passed between them, his left arm shot out and decapitated Grog with a lariat from his chainsaw elbow while laughing madly.
The other Halloweeners land and begin to race toward targets of their own.
We are the people that can find whatever you may need. If you got the money honey, we got your disease.
"The 'full details,' as you say, are less malicious than I am sure you expect. We will fuse. I will enter you, and you will become my avatar.
This is less oppressive than I am sure it sounds. It is not as if I shall be a separate entity inside your mind or soul, suppressing your will and driving you forward. Rather, you would gain a fragment of my power, and, in addition, bits of my personality -- my predilections, wants, desires..." he paused to give another malicious smile before continuing, "tastes, if you will -- they shall integrate themselves into your personality.
Obviously, this process is better suited to being undergone with one who closely meshes with my proclivities, but I am less discriminating in the selection of my avatars than some of the other Sins. After all, if you do not suit my needs and at least roughly follow the path of my desires..." His wicked grin split into a hideously threatening maw as he licked his lips.
"I can always devour you and find another."
He paused momentarily to let the depth sink in, before resuming a coy expression and continuing.
"That said, in the interest of giving you the 'full details,' I can be stolen away by one who fits me closer than you. This is different to you acting counter to my wishes, in that, while my essence getting forcibly ripped out of your soul will undoubtedly be painful and leave you in the pathetic state you are currently in once again, you do not get devoured."
Roilvn Whiro
Remember you lot of grot lovers...
Dread pointed a finger at the warphead but kept his eyes from meeting his. "Yooz stay outta my 'ead, or I will krump yea. Tis a shame, i kinda like yea."
He stood, looking down at the Nob chair and he pointed to it. "I want dis in me boss tent. Got dat?" It was posed in as much of a request as Dread could manage. One of the snotlings in the command visor looked to Razza and his head popped, his blood and gore splashing on the window for them.
"So den, dis way." Dread lumbered towards the door. "Wraf is onna dem god dings, and deres another god ding dat she wanna kill, and killin god dings sounded like proppa fighting, so I thought we should waaaaaggghhh to kill god dings." He opened the flap and looked towards the tower, then slowing pointing to it in and orky and dramatic fashion. "Weza gonna make dat ding fall, whacha gonna do?"
I is the biggest, so I is the Boss
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:08 pm
Roilvn Whiro
(OOC If you want an edit go for it. Do not let me God Mod you. You have a great deal of time, and you can dodge with ease.)
Gorebath looked up towards the roof of the cottage and started to smile. "Look 'ere boyz! we got'em!" They began to laugh and draw their hammers, swinging at the base of the building to bring it down, Sadly, it was brought down on top of three of the boys in the party.
Gorebath roared and his arms wide, looking for the creature that would have been standing on the roof. Slightly behind Gorebath was a small short man painted green holding a small black hammer. This man was shorter than them by half, but still twice as tall as most goblins. His smile split his face and rows of needle like teeth showed from him. He whooped and called out with the rest of the rag tag group of boys. Gorebath stood with what looked to be a brown and black iron fireplace.
He snorted and spit as he held his goff hammer in both hands. The hammer roaring to life as the parts in it began to rumble and move. He moved the hammer slow, moving with a wide swing, aiming for his ribs
Renegade Proxy
‘System cool-down in progress, systems at fifteen-percent capacity.’ +++All around the ruined town things seemed to be waking up, an anthill kicked in spectacular fashion. Above them, one particular target of the gathering ire merely watched as bodies began to gather at the building’s base. Seconds later and their hammer blows rocked its already compromised frame. One hand lifted before its owner's eyes, the stranger examining it for a long moment as if it hand never been seen before. Fingers flexing, the limb began to unravel as panels slid aside, the recognisable parts that made up the ever so useful mechanism of arm and hand refitting themselves into a new, arguably deadlier formation. Barrels clustered at its end, the rest lost in smooth armour plating. +++Extending the arm turned weapon, its wielder’s voice quietly ventured, ‘Dakka dakka.’ +++Barrels spinning up with a smooth hum was replaced in an instant by the mechanical purr of high-velocity rounds speeding forth. Relatively small, each was a gout of molten metal fit to punch through armour plate which traced a clean line through the crowd below. Such was the volume of their release that in the few seconds that deadly arc drew across them that the few seconds in which a target was framed offered ample time for each to be riddled through. A drawing of death, their killer had certain targets particularly in mind, the bore of that small yet powerful weapon inexorably drawn to those similarly armed, their clumsy arms made all the more slapdash in the face of such killing grace. Clustering made them even easier targets, though it was not long before the half-fallen building was reduced to a pile of rubble. +++Another leap saw their prey cast down into their midst, gunfire cut off for the duration of its wielder’s flight. Landing, catlike, on two feet the spray of gunfire resumed in intermittent bursts as the small weapon’s rotating barrels began to visibly heat. Threatening automatic shut-down, the quiet but insistent alarm chiming in its wielder’s ear was heeded only at the last moment. A small inconvenience, the weapon was left to hang to one side, free hand drawing a path to the hilt of a dagger strapped to one thigh as the green wall all around began to close. The stink of death and frenzy was thick as the shadows they cast, such that the razor edge of that wickedly curved blade was lost as it was drawn to bear. +++‘System cool-down in progress, systems at twenty-percent capacity.’
Lilith smiled as she heard the details. She had always wanted more power, craved it. She wanted to consume and destroy, until she was the greatest entity out there. Her and her brother. She thought his words over quietly. ”Lilith no, we can't ”But Lucian! The power. We have to!” ”You are the most infurating sister to share a body with. Fine, but this back fires, its you that pays the price. My soul remains unforfit. I shall find another body, should you fail in this one. Got that Sister? You fail, I leave. This is the stupidest decision your insane mind has ever done.”
After a small interation between the two through thoughts, Lilith's smile grew larger. She held out her hand. ”Alright deal! I trust that we will be compatable enough. So do I sign something or? Oh, and is it possible to ensure my brother is tied to this? “
She felt Lucian scream at her in their shared mind. The curse they suffered as children had created two that both hated and loved each other. Lilith was insane enough to doom her brother to keep him with her. That was one of the many problems. It was hard to fight a curse, when one of you wasn't too sane. ”So it sounds like I won't have your voice in my head? Like Lucians? Because Lucian is annoying enough already.” She added with a small pout.
ChainsawDooM
Gluttony tapped its chin thoughtfully for a moment, before replying.
"I shall answer the second question first, as it is the least problematic. I will not be a voice as much as a pang of hunger, a sense of what I want you to do: much as hunger reveals that one desires to eat, or fatigue informs one that they wish to rest. At the core of your beings, you will become more like me. My goals and your desires will become as one.
"Now, as to the matter of including your sibling, it is in fact imperative that he agrees and partakes willingly in this partnership. To that end-" he abruptly stopped and snapped his fingers, and with a sharp, sickening snap and no lack of excruciating pain, the two were separated out of their bodies and given forms of their own.
"Now, don't get excited," he began placatingly. "These bodies are facsimiles that can only exist inside this kitchen in which we currently reside, which is my domain. Now, you must both agree to this bargain. The means of how you achieve this consensus is up to you.
"Oh, and I do truly suggest you agree," Gluttony advised while eyeing the two hungrily and leaning back to suggestively sip some broth with cruel eyes, before dunking the ladle back into the stew, smiling at them as he stirred it.
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:10 pm
Summer16608
Lucian looked down to see he had his own form. Finally! All his life he had shared his sisters. He stretched his arms and rolled his head a bit, adjusting to it. He heard Gluttony's word, and scowled. He had hoped that he would be able to just walk out of here. Not deal with his crazy sister and this even crazier deal.
”Well I don't want it, Lilith your insanity will get us killed. I thought you wanted to end the curse! Not walk into another magical trap. Everything looks good at first...”
”No Lucian,” Lilith interupted her brothers rant. Her eyes getting darker as she looked at her more sane sibling. Her anger echoed in her eyes. ”I want to have fun. You want to be free of me. Then nows the chance. Leave”
”Lilith you know I can't, he just bloody well said so. This is just for this moment.!” Lucian practically yelled at his sister. Which was of course the worst thing that could happen. She lunged and punched him straight in the face. She recoiled as her own nose started to bleed, and look broken. It would seem that if she tried to hurt him, it actually still hurt the original body. ”Damn it, Lucian its too late anyways! He clearly won't let us leave. I wouldn't”
Lucian sighed, hearing his sisters words, and seeing the hunger on the creatures face. Clearly she was right, and that made Lucian feel defeated. He would find a way to free them, somehow. Or at least himself, but in the end he didn't want to see his sister get hurt. They may hate eachother, but they truly wouldn't survive without eachother.
”Fine Lil's.” He sighed giving up. As if he had just given his consent, he faded back into the original host body. Lilith, the dominant personality, smiled. She nodded.
”I believe this is a go. Where do I sign?”
Lilith asked, clapping her hands as an excited child on Christmas. She was so excited for all the power. Though she felt Lucian was pouting in their other realm. He would watch from there, and only have the ability to view the world through her eyes. Though he could create whatever he wanted in their mind realm. Each of them had their own side, separated by a magical barrier. Or so it seemed.
ChainsawDooM
Gluttony clapped its hands as it chuckled.
"Excellent! Truly excellent! Oh, I am so glad you have agreed," it said, its words going from genuine enthusiasm to a cruel arrogance.
"As for the matter of contracts and signatures, what exactly do you think I am, some kind of devil?" Gluttony said before laughing mirthfully, although there was a cruel, hollow ringing to its laughter that seemed to reverberate around the kitchen.
"No, there is only one way to partake of Gluttony," it said, as it hopped up onto the lip of the pot, its gaunt frame perched there as it pulled a butcher knife from seemingly nowhere to slash its own throat. It gurgled as it fell into the pot, which turned a foamy red.
At the same time, the kitchen morphed into its true form, revealing the fleshy appearance of the inside of a stomach, as small pools of acid began to appear in puddles on the floor, and an overwhelming voice seemed to ring out from everywhere.
"DRINK! EAT! CONSUME! "LEAVE NOTHING LEFT! "GORGE THYSELVES OR PERISH!"
Yuki stared in half disbelief, half disgust as her would be guide had his head unceremoniously separated from his shoulders. "HEY! I WAS USING THAT! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND THAT PRIDE WORSHIPING b*****d NOW?!" Yuki shouted as she cut down another ork in the building chaos. This new biker ork was looking like a huge problem; on top of cutting down her only lead, he had an entire gang of motorcyclist monsters seemingly at his beck and call. She dodged a blow from an impractically large hammer and thrust her blade between his shoulder blades, severing his spinal cord and cutting through at least one of his lungs. This whole fight was a pointless blood bath that had cost her the best chance at pursing revenge she'd had in weeks.
"Hey spike head! You just killed my guide, that means you're taking me to whoever's in charge! Got it?" Yuki was so pissed she let her chainsaw arm cut straight through a particularly thick ork, showering everything in the nearby vicinity with gore.
ChainsawDooM
Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day If you want it you're going to bleed, but it's the price you pay
Roxxo reached his right hand out to Yuki, beckoning her to take it.
"C-c-c-come wif me if you wanna LIIIIIIIIIIIVE! CH-CH-CH-YEAAAAH!" he screamed in his odd high-pitched voice, before suddenly accelerating towards her and grabbing her about the waist, throwing her over his shoulder before gunning the engine and forcing his trike into a dizzying spinning burnout while opening up with his wartrike's dakkaguns. In a circle around them, nearby orks were mowed down by the hail of large caliber automatic fire, blinded by the slinging grit from beneath the wheels of his tires, and choked by the noxious fumes from his many exhaust pipes. Throughout the din, Roxxo's screams of near orgiastic excitement could clearly be heard.
His immediate path clear, Roxxo yelled to his "passenger."
"Hold on! An' m-m-m-make sure ta stick da landing!"
He slammed the bike forward suddenly into a wheelie as he let go of Yuki, causing her to suddenly somersault over his shoulder. As she continued her roll down his back, he rammed the bike back into the ground so that she could land sitting backwards behind him. He raced forwards through a gap in the the orks, grinning over his shoulder at her.
"Us bruvvahs an' sistahs in AAAAARRRMS 'ave ta stick t-t-t-gevver, RIIIIIIGHT!?" he yelled over the deafening sound of his engine, clanking his left arm's buzzsaw to her right arm's chainsaw.
And you're a very sexy girl, very hard to please You can taste the bright lights, but you won't get there for free
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:12 pm
Greynights77
Yuki
Yuki was prepared to shout and stab this new ork to make him comply with her demands; but instead of arguing with her more, he just agreed to take her to his leader. The phrase: "that was easy" crossed her mind, staying in line with the craziness her life had become, the bike ork charged her. In the chaos of the fight, Yuki didn't have time to dodge. She wound up on his shoulder as he mowed down the crowd of orks with bike mounted miniguns... while spinning in a circle. These orks had such a pension for unnecessarily aggressive violence. Then he shouted something practically inaudible above his own commotion about "sticking the landing". Then she felt herself fall forward onto the back end of the massive three wheel bike. The entire contraption jerked forward as she latched onto the bike in a crouched position, she'd only had just enough time to sheath her blade on her back before she landed. The commotion ended with a bizzare... chainsaw/buzzsaw fist-bump. This place was by far, the most crazy place she had been to in her everlasting pursuit of revenge.
ChainsawDooM
Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here everyday You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play
Roxxo laughed maniacally, his trike roaring forward as he parried a swing from the axe-like choppa of a particularly brutish nob downward into the dirt, leaving him wide open for his new passenger as he injected an orc boy on his right with his ominous-looking syringe. The ork had come charging at him, choppa raised, and the syringe stabbed into the boy's neck. His head quickly bloated, his eyes bulging before they liquifyed and streamed from his sockets. The boy screamed a wet, phlegmy scream before his skull burst with a sickly squelching sound.
"HAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA-K-K-K-YEAAAAAAH!" Roxxo screamed, clearly in nearly orgasmic bliss at the melee.
"Rok 'em, boyz! Kill 'em AAAAAAAAAAALL!" he said to his gang, the boys seemingly intent on doing just that.
...
It didn't take long for the Halloweeners and their new acquaintance to clean up this particular group of orks. They had a clear advantage in mobility and cohesive tactics, crude though the tactics were.
Roxxo set a course towards the sound of more fighting, including what sounded similar to a minigun. This route was still in the general direction of the unbelievably huge tower in the distance -- the job Angel Cakes had given him was not forgotten.
Roxxo reloaded his revolver as he drove, glancing back at his passenger.
"W-w-w-well, now, li'l sistah! What bringz ya 'round dese parts? Come here often, hmmmmmm? Ha-ha-ha-MMMMMMMMMmmmmmm!"he yelled over the roar of the biker group's engines as he gazed dreamily at Yuki, a smirk on his face. The smell of leather, soot, baby powder, and rotting pumpkin seemed to radiate from him.
If you got a hunger for what you see, you'll take it eventually You can have everything you want, but you better not take it from me
"Hmmm... God fings indeed. Sounds interesting, if possibly a bit overambitious," he said, in the brief pause before Dread opened the tent flap.
Razza gazed at the tower in the distance, his hands idly exploring the surface of his twisted bronze staff.
"Ahhhh... yes... dat tower. Interesting. Very interesting," Razza said as he focused his gaze on the tower.
"So, you wish me to find a way to bring dis tower down? Tell me, have you seen dat tower up close, yourself?" Razza asked, his eyes forcefully meeting Dread's as they flared in green fire.
"Because regardless if you have or not, I fink it's time we took a little stroll. I sense... somefing interesting will happen dere very soon..." He said, as he continued to stare into Dread's eyes and lifted his staff from the ground, beginning to twirl it as it trailed crackling green lightning, before he slammed it down, waves of coruscating energy channeling outward to make a horrific rend in the space in front of them.
"Shall we go?"
Roilvn Whiro
Remember you lot of grot lovers...
The large ork turned his head so suddenly that the snotlings inside of his visor slammed against the wall before they could respond, the one that didn't started to laugh about securing himself, and that is why he was the boss.
Dread's face had that mixed look of Am I sure I can't Krump him and Nothing good can come of this when he heard the tone Razza had with Stroll. but first things first.
"Wut yooz meen Dat Tower." He threw his arms into the air over his head, spinning slowly in a three sixty. "Do yea see any oder towers?" Dread put his arms down for a second. He raise a hand and looked over his shoulder. "N dontta say da waaaagggh towers. And yea, ate some of da giants near dat tower. Digs big."
However if Razza though that they should go, then what was the point of keeping a prophet if you never listened to them. Wrath didn't kill him for a reason, and he is saying to go for a reason. Life had an odd way of just making reasons.
And plus, it sound like some good fun. Dere might be fightin. "Den 'ere we go!"
I is the biggest, so I is the Boss
Posted: Tue Aug 15, 2017 8:14 pm
Clockwork_Daeva
Can you hear it... Under all the racket?
Location: The Manor: In the Halls With:Alone; Vengeance
"Where are you...?" hissed Wrath, through clenched teeth. Unmistakably, something had drawn her here, but that feeling seemed to be fading. This elf was not, however, one to give up on a hunt; she had not been awared the title "Huntress" when amongst her own ilk, for no reason. "I'll find you and I'll hack all of your limbs off, when I do. We'll have ourselves a little chat, while you repaint the floor!" she sneered vehemently into the empty air. Her booted steps carried her silently towards the kitchens, where she suspected the source of this particular disturbance had been. Vengeance whispered hungrily in its sheath, starving for what is wielder promised her unseen quarry.
Out of the darkness the voices are calling. Riding the wings of a song. The fury is screaming and Heaven is falling. I feel it coming on strong.
*This morning at around midnight*
The stars in Malice's sky were abnormal. They moved as if alive, flowing and coalescing into grisly and unknown constellations before retreating, molding back into whatever darkened corners of oblivion they occupied. Truly, it was hard to call them stars at all, but no other term for them fit as well. So, stars they were.
A crack of thunder pierced through the quiet of the night, though no cloud nor flash of lightning accompanied it. As the boom rumbled and echoed across the foreboding landscape, a new star appeared. It floated lazily, suspended in the darkness, glowing brighter as the sound of thunder grew dimmer, reaching its peak in brightness as the low rumble faded off entirely.
This new star did not meander crazily through the sky as if by its own capricious will, however. It moved slowly after it appeared on the horizon, seeming to drift lazily in an arc across the sky, although the astute observer would note that it seemed to be increasing in speed.
The other stars in the sky seemed drawn to it. Like sharks smelling blood in the water, they swarmed to it, but before they could reach it they seemed to bounce off as if stopped by some invisible barrier.
Suddenly, it became quite apparent that the star was no longer a star. It was a streak in the sky, and the point of light that was its leading edge was growing ever so slightly larger than the mere pinprick of bright light it had once been.
Hurtling across the horizon, the streak moved at a blistering pace before soundlessly impacting half-way up Patience's impossibly tall tower. *This morning, just before dawn*
Eddie Valhalla awoke to the feeling of bitter cold and the sound of rushing wind, as well as a horrible headache and a terrible shortness of breath. He rushed to retrieve the crystalline facemask from his belt, breathing deeply in relief as its magic adhered it to his face, making a seal and projecting its environmental field around his body.
What he expected to see was the inside of his stasis chambers on the Ardent Dawn, the flagship of Eternal Horizon's fleet. He assumed they must have received heavy damage and were venting atmosphere into Wildspace, hence the biting cold, rushing wind, and thin air. His being rushed out of stasis would also explain his pounding headache. What he didn't expect to see as he rolled into a sitting position was a tiny platform overlooking a sea of ominously roiling clouds as a crimson sky loomed, blood-red sun just beginning to peek over the horizon like the scarlet eye of a demon.
"What in the nine..." he whispered incredulously to himself. He was clearly not on the Ardent Dawn, nor any other ship in Eternal Horizon's fleet.
He looked behind him, so see some kind of tower so close it was not even a step away. He seemed to have landed on some kind of precipice jutting out of this tower. Eddie gazed up into the sky, then whistled to himself in amazement, as he could not see where the tower ended from where he was.
He stood up, and peered down over the edge, noting that the tower this direction fell an equally impressive distance before terminating into the sea of dark clouds.
He sat back down to ponder his options. Looking at the tower, it didn't seem to have any openings: no windows or balconies of any kind that he could see. He saw a few precipices like the one he was on, but they seemed few and far between, with seemingly thousands of feet separating them. Only his looked like it could bear someone's weight at the moment, the others looked to be in a very sorry state of disrepair.
He shrugged to himself, before once again standing up. If there are only two options, He thought to himself, I might as well take the easier one.
Eddie stepped off the platform and into the open air.
The lightning strikes cracking the night. It feels like never before. Thunder and sparks in the heart of the dark. I hear a rising force.
Eddie Valhalla
The song I'm quoting:
Searching my soul now I find something else. I take my life in my hands. From the gates of Heaven to the altars of Hell. The power is at my command.
Eddie fell for quite a while before hitting the sea of clouds. Even through the field protecting his body from the atmosphere, they felt... wrong. Almost sickly and cloying, as if they were trying to grab at his body. In fact, he realized that was exactly what they were trying to do. He began to make out huge, dark shapes in the clouds. There was something else in the clouds with him. Something enormous.
The pressure on his body continued to increase, and partly out of reflex, partly out of desperation, he let his holy aura once again emanate from his body. A faint, holy light, the strength of a candle radiated from every part of him, and the clouds recoiled from it as if burned, releasing him. Eddie began to fall again. The dark thing noticed him.
Eddie cast Lord of the Sky from his ring, and a cloud of mist surrounded him, crackling with lightning as he fell. He fired one of the bolts at the dark shape that was looming closer, and a dragon-like roar emerged from the clouds, small arcs of lightning acting to chain the beast in the air, as Eddie spread his draconic wings and flew as fast as he could downward.
Whatever the beast was, even with its speed halved by the powerful magic of his spell, it kept pace with him in his descent. After several minutes passed, and Eddie's nervousness rising as the time for his spell began to elapse, he broke through the bottom of the cloud layer. The creature did not follow him through.
He soon found out why, as tracers of light stabbed at him from the ground. Some of them exploded in front of his face, and he barely managed to shield himself in time with a casting of his defensive spell, the transparent draconic Wings of Cover appearing to shield him from being peppered with shards of hot metal. He cast a spell from a wand in his bracer, and the shrapnel began to turn into harmless puffs of dust as they passed through his Cacophonic Shield.
The shrapnel from the explosive projectiles could no longer harm him, and he looked down towards the ground to see what it was that attacked him. A sprawling collection of huts and shabby building met him, as well as a few towers with some kind of weapon. It was one of these that was firing at him, its users apparently orcs of some kind.
He'd never seen the technology before, but it interested him. It would be good in a battle for his forces. He made a note to try and barter for one, or retrieve it by other means, later.
He doubted he'd be able to get any useful information about his whereabouts from the orks who where shooting at him, but something else had caught his eye: a large mansion off to the side of the town. What he noticed the most was that the sprawling camp that the orcs seem to have built, as well as the ruins they seemed to occupy, did not seem to go too close to it. He supposed that meant it was either important enough, or dangerous enough, to warrant such caution... or reverence... or whatever it was. In any case, that was a good a place as any to go.
He landed in front of the walkway - the orcs had long since stopped trying to shoot him. Not because their shots had become ineffective, he noted, but because he'd gone out of their line of fire. Interesting.
As he began to move up the path to the mansion, a feeling of resistance, like a barrier began to present himself. It was not a feeling un unease or discomfort, more of simply a feeling of pressure to stay out, and it was not unbearable. Eddie pressed on, and felt a tearing sensation as suddenly the pressure ceased. He must have crossed through the barrier.
...
His investigation of the Mansion didn't turn up much. Well, it turned up plenty, he supposed; it was a mansion after all. However, it didn't turn up what he wanted, someone to ask where he'd ended up. He needed to get back to his people.
He had noted, however, that many of the rooms and facilities were coated in a thick enough layer of dust to note disuse, and so, he followed traces of recent use to a door. This door was locked, but, seeing that it seemed to be used frequently, he had to assume someone would come by eventually.
He shrugged to himself as he took a seat, unknowingly in front of the door to Wrath's room, and began to play quietly on his guitar.
((What he will be playing when someone hears him))
The lightning strikes cracking the night. It feels like never before. Thunder and sparks in the heart of the dark. I feel a rising force.
