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Written Therapist
A collection of thoughts and fond memories.
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TyKat12
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"I don't do what I do because I want recognition-"

GUNS?! Some ******** had GUNS!?

Arian ran her fingers along her armor, pretty sure she hadn't been shot-but she had missed bullets before in an adrenaline rush, only to nearly bleed out from it.

Nothing. Safe. Taking a deep breath, she had the presence of mind to peek into the chaotically lit space. Nothing. But she could hear metal. Reloading?

Arian breathed a curse, stepping out from her safety to move quickly towards the noise. Get him while he's loading. Kill him quickly, then the spider. Moved slowly along the other side of the shelter. Her thighs tensed up, knees bending, Arian's exhausted body now a spring. Her spike dagger was in hand. The curses. Something nagged at the back of her mind, something she should recognize-but Arian shook it off in favor of not collasping.

Three, two, one-Balthasar would find himself rammed mid air by a much smaller, softer bodied person who huffed a breath in feminine surprise to find her opponent so damned hefty.

Knocking him off course, and finding sharp pointed things no doubt stabbing into her as Arian's spike dagger was rammed into his torso at a lower point, maybe getting his arm instead, maybe not. Her stomach and heart plate would protect her, but Arian might be taking a spike to the thigh, who knows? Either way-recognition was a little late in coming.



"I do what I do because they've been wronged, and I want to make it right."
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Balthasar expected a far larger opponent to come crashing into him and to feel a knife rip through his innards like fire. The feeling of blood spurt from one's stomach, followed by the horrible sound of skin ripping as a result of an awkward repositioning, was hardly calming, though. Arian was fortunate, as, after the worst of her damage had been done to the indigo demon, he unwrap his arms, either forcing her away or giving her one hell of a smack. In any case, the two beings were separated now, if only for a few seconds.

Drops of blood soaked Balthasar's hand as he quickly reached down and aided his stomach's outer wall in supporting his organs. The knife's tip had managed to get in about an inch before being redirected upwards. The depth of the slice quickly dropped, rendering most the damage far from harmless. Regardless, the wound was an opening- like hell this opponent was gonna cut the indigo demon open farther.

Balthasar quickly went on the offensive as his skin turned a fiercer purple. Anger swept through the threatened man like adrenaline, releasing only through a yell that likely hit Arian's ears as the bigger body pushed into hers. If the indigo demon were thinking, the missed chance to impale his opponent would have been redeemed here, but it was only utilized to knock the wind out of the smaller body. The way Balthasar figured it, only the first second of the impact would be needed to achieve this. Due to anger, though, an over calculation occurred...

Once the indigo demon's body came crashing into a wall, he realized exactly what had gone wrong. Too much energy had been poured out- and boy, did that collision hurt. Wherever Arian was knocked off to, Balthasar wasn't concerned. He backed up from the wall, holding his side. A piece of his lowest hip horn chipped from it's host body and fell to the ground, thudding softly. A smooth stream of blood followed. Balthasar gasped for breath, expelled a pained noise, then whirled about, holding his fists defensively. If Arian came towards him, it was almost guaranteed she'd get the s**t knocked out of her.





 
 
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