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Post by Luka on May 23, 2009 1:17:57 GMT -5
'War' gave Alice a look that said "Fucking Amateur." as clearly as though someone had simply yelled it, even though not a muscle of his face moved. She was right in her assumption that this newest Horseman did not smell natural. Or human, at least. If anything, he smelled of nothing but their surrounding arena. Of course there was the lingering aroma of death that accompanied War wherever it went. But other than that, there was nothing else. War simply showed up wherever it was called upon. Or where it had reason to be.
Like right here, right now. On this makeshift battlefield.
If anyone was going to come rescue Alice, it would be wise for them to do it now.
"Your lights." War said flatly, his arms snapping to attention as his laser sights focused on the few lights remaining in the building. "I'm going to tear them down."
Darkness engulfed the gallery.
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Post by Adrian on May 23, 2009 1:45:52 GMT -5
Darkness indeed engulfed the entire gallery as a figure emerged.
"Cause when the lights are down there's no more to say."
One which the world had gone some time without knowing the true touch of, but now that period came to a halt. A presence only one of those present might recognize started to fill the room when the figure spilled out from the very shadows. Not due to the fact they could not conceal. . . but rather a failure to CONTAIN. Sound filled the air of an instrument played. One that most would recognize as some type of electric guitar. It played a tune that could seduce the moon into the very void of a black hole.
Just a lone man of the cloth had witnessed this being's reappearance. Yet something between now & then changed. What the Priest saw appeared as an aged man in his mid-forties or somewhere in that range. Yet now, any who could see through the Darkness witnessed the visage of a tall, dark, and handsome young man. Glowing eyes helped set him apart from mistaken identity as a security guard or some other human. Not a trace scent about him held the reeking stench of innocence.
In his hands rested a guitar being strummed in a way that created such a rhythm. A new tune compared to that which had been played for th previous Plague. But would the Horseman remember his song? The guitar might have known. . .
From his upper back extended more than one tendril, two of them appearing more developed than the rest. Each one of the pair had glowing eyes and a maw filled with sharp teeth. To stand before the re-creation of an opponent that nearly destroyed him took quite a load of courage. Perhaps he had gained new power since his re-emergence?
TWO of the FOUR. . .[/b]
An unseen presence with it's own strength whispered into his ears.
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Post by Luka on May 23, 2009 2:23:06 GMT -5
The moment the lights dropped down and the new voice spoke his first syllable, the two Horsemen went into action.
It was unclear whether or not this Plague was the same one who had last encountered this mysterious musician, but deep down, it appeared that the Horseman remembered him. He remembered him very well.
Plague went into action a moment before War did.
In truth, War's appearance had been meant to draw back Plague, as the stuttering little scapegoat had not been perfected yet. Of course, there was no better way to see how far he could go than to test him out in actual battle.
Now, the Plague seemed to weave in an out of the darkness, his own tendrils snaking around his arms to join him in battle. He reappeared to the right of the musician, striking out with a clawed hand.
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Post by Adrian on May 23, 2009 2:39:18 GMT -5
If this version of plague had not yet reached full perfection, the chance for a victory truly existed. Not just a victory either. A chance for complete annihlation. Last time their paths crossed, not a single trace remained of Plague. Obviously Isaak had kept back up versions of this troubled young adolescent parasite. But eventually the cientist would have to start running out of materials to continually create Horsemen.
Alice which with slight awe when the new figure appeared as his aura buffeted her. She did not appreciate the idea of someone rescuing her either. Just who sent this guy? Could Leon have gotten too worried? Unless of course a being with this dark a seal on their soul acted out of genuine concern.
"Are you man enough carrying the load all alone-"
Bringing up the Guitar to block Plague's claws, it actually absorbed the impact without any obvious chorosion. At the exact same moment a tendril shot out to stab Plague. If successful it would impale the Horseman briefly. Just long enough to throw him with inhuman strength in War's direction.
"When others have your own."
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Post by Luka on May 23, 2009 2:52:22 GMT -5
Neither Horseman replied to the man's ramblings, either out of a lack of a lyrical aptitude, or just the fact that they didn't want to speak.
Sparks showered the air with faint glimmers of light as Plague's claws raked across the surface of the guitar. The Horseman carried down with the swipe, nearly dropping to his knees as the musician's tendril stabbed into empty air. At that moment, Plague thrust one of his own hands up, a mass of tendrils twisting together to form a sharp spike around his fist which he drove toward the mystery man's gut.
As Alice kept her attention on the guitarist, the metal clack of a gun being raised behind her head would sound. Whether or not she hauled ass out of the way was up to her. In any case, War pulled the trigger.
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Post by Adrian on May 24, 2009 2:29:18 GMT -5
Or did they not speak, since there was no more to say?
Alice turned and rolled into a crouched pose the moment War's gun clicked. In most cases this indicated a dodged bullet. Or at least one which went wide of the original mark. From the crouch she swung Body Ripper out in a quick attack before taking a superhuman leap. Striking his legs would at least present a challenge for him in the realm of mobility. Garouge did not know for sure what War was exactly, but he certainly was not a human being. Next the momentum from her sweep found itself channelled into a rising verticle strike.
Sparks did nothing but to briefly illuminate an infinite Darkness standing before an artificially created Horseman. Just what had the world come to? Used as an instrumental factor in the battle, his Guitar continued to play a tune. How? It withstood the claws and actually took the move as a strum along the black 'strings' to create a melodious sound that might pluck at the heartstrings of Plague just as in their last encounter.
Missing in his last attack, he changed to a different move.
Two tendrils which ended in tiny fanged jaws came to intercept the spike aimed for his gut. Clamping on and bitting down hard they likely had the combined strength to hold it back and then trying to turn it to either side of the figure of Darkness. Meanwhile the butt of the guitar which had blade-like protrusions came down fiercely upon the already exposed head of Plague.
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Post by Luka on May 30, 2009 22:22:06 GMT -5
Yet another shower of sparks illuminated the current battlefield of Alice and War as her Body Ripper gouged at his legs. The sound of metal on metal tore through the air as he seemed to actually step into the blow. She would find her next blow met with one of his own. If she chose to use her fists or her feet, she would find that his body had no give. It was like punching a brick wall…but a lot harder.
War swung his right leg out in a wide kick, the motion making it sound like a giant blade had just cut through the air. If Alice couldn’t manage to evade, then she’d likely become a firmly planted decoration on the wall.
As for Plague, his heartstrings seemed to have been removed. Or at least for the moment, unpluckable. There would be no tender, tear-filled moments this night. Unless it was caused from the fact that their bodies had been beaten to a jelly-like mass and all they could do was cry. But to cry in a sad, emotional way? NOT SO!
The only melody Plague seemed intent on creating was the one his father desired – a grand opera of their fallen foes’ screams.
A brief look of displeasure crossed his face as the little jaws clamped down on the spike, effectively stopping it. It was pushed aside, Plague’s body following after it in a lunge as his opponent brought his blade down. At that moment, there was a snapping sound as a tendril burst from Plague’s back. It slammed into the body of the guitar, driving it aside. Another tendril snapped out as it tried to knock aside the axe, to send it spinning from Ferules’ hands.
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Post by Adrian on May 31, 2009 12:30:22 GMT -5
If he stepped into her strike, all the young lady could do was oblige him in return for such a challenge. Part of her wondered if the blades of her weapon would cut through whatever armor War wore. His kick would likely drive right home into a clever technique she called a 'spinning stab'. In this technique, she spun the blade against a surface that did not easily give wa and listened. At the precise moment her keen hearing picked up on an inconsistency, the current revolution of Body Ripper ended.
With a violent stab.
If successful she would use this to redirect the Horseman's move into the wall behind her even harder. Hard enough to get the Tin man stuck in the wall. Just in time to attack with some new offensive strike after removng the blade from his leg. Of course, this all relied on it being able to sink into him in the first place.
MEANWHILE. . . .
While the first tendril drove his dark cherry axe away, the second would find itself intercepted by one of the fanged tendrils which had released the spike moments earlier. It's counterpart worked on driving that spike into the floor if it still held a strong enough grip. Eyes gave off a yellow glow that reminded one of the mon on those rare nights when it would look tainted from it's normal bleached white purity.
Corruption of the body and sooooooooullll. . . festering flesh cries out to be TORRRRN ASUNDER![/i]
Grand operas composed of foes' fallen screams? All Plague would recieve from this black foe would be a little night music. Strumming the instrument with a haunting vitality and tune he brought a little background music into the fray once more. However this was not meant to pluck at the Horseman's heartstrings, but rather. . . TO RIP THEM APART! The night itself appeared to have howled for the annihlation of it's foes. Decible frequencies in the pitch sought out contact across the Gallery toward Plague in a compacted 'supersonic shotgun' wave that wrought destruction the night craved.
Secretly it granted another effect.
Metal started to vibrate in different ways to certain sound vibrations; and since it was the Darkness who controlled them it took control. Whatever War was comprised of would likely exierence vibrations which would interfere somehow with his movement. On the other hand, Alie's Body Ripper would attain just the right frequency of vibration to pierce the alloy of War.
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Post by Luka on Jun 2, 2009 4:15:28 GMT -5
As the shockwave melodically made its way through the Gallery, the bits of debris seemed to tremble and rise off the floor. The smaller chunks gave a sudden jolt before bursting apart into tiny clouds of dust. The dust that was already hanging in the air swirled, eddying around the various forms locked in combat. It was an eerie sight. The heavy dust snaked through the dark halls, forming cloudy serpents around the limbs of statues and clinging to the frames of paintings. The works of art seemed to take on a darker tone as even the brightest of blossoms were covered in a thin, grimy film of destruction. Ferules was either a victim of luck…or he may have just been smarter than he looked. War’s stoic countenance gave no hint as to whether something might have been wrong, but the telltale sign of something thick being dented said everything. He was not made of metal, but beyond the name, it seemed to have a certain point of frequency it could withstand. If anything, perhaps allowing itself to be shorn was a safety mechanism. In fact, it was a wonder how the sensitive Alice could continue to fight under such duress. The tip of Body Ripper gouged a hole into War’s leg, tearing a large gash open, another small shower of sparks lighting up the dust. The moment the blade sank in, War threw a punch, aiming his fist directly for Alice’s chest. It was an odd place to strike, but if she were knocked out of wind it would make her much easier to dispatch. If he managed to strike her shoulder, it would be even better. ++++ Being at the epicenter of such a grand little concert did little to help his hearing. If he knew he was going to end up in the middle of a moshpit, he’d have brought earplugs. But it would be rude to the midnight musician to not listen to his rough melody. What was his problem, anyway? IT’S THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO SLEEP. The spike that the tendril still had his chompers latched onto seemed to crumple into itself, melting back into the collective to reemerge elsewhere, still aiming for Ferules’ body. At the moment though, there seemed to be a little bit of a tentacle tussle going on. ONE TWO THREE FOUR I DECLARE A TENTACLE WAR The tentacles gnashed at each other, the tiny mouths that covered Plague’s melding together to form ravenous maws that matched Ferules’ little buddies in size. Ferocity was another matter entirely. As they tangled with each other, another few snaps sounded from Plague’s back as the trademark Methuselah blades emerged. Like the tails of scorpions they sprang out, their sharp stingers all trying to tear Ferules a new one. Or at least, you know, poke him really hard.
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Post by Adrian on Jun 2, 2009 14:57:07 GMT -5
Alice could not save herself any longer from taking damage in this now chaotic battle. One could wonder if it was the pangs of bloodthirst tearing away at her from within or perhaps the frequency of Ferules' attack unleashed. Truly her dream for a challenge that risked her unlife had come true in this nightmarish confrontation. War's punch made contact with the Gifted Vampiress and sent her flying from him. Luckily her inhumanity kept her breasts attached to her chest in rebellion against the force of the blow to her chest.
She definately had the wind knocked out of her.
Willl you let a child of the night die? Let them grant her deathwish. . .?
But while Garouge fell to a War Machine, the Darkness thrived upon the situation. As Plague recollected his bits from the super sonic aftermath, Ferules showed off a brand new trick that fed off into an old one. Now wailing on the instrument with precise movements, the frequency threatened any attempts for a sentient being aside from himself to think clearly. If anyone focused their attention on this forlorn Knight they would see the fanged tentacles inhaling what appeared to be the very shadows infinite resources.
And in rather vast quantities.
"Now tell me all about your pain, down to the detail. Don't say it's love. . . Your fragile heart feeds my contempt. Wailing for your sorrow is only my way to comfort you. Reminders of innocent youth. . . waiting for morrow you're lonely. I name your solitude, I speaketh the truth!"
Gathering up the concentration neccesary, the floor between them started to errupt with the nocturnal equivalent to sunspots. Shaded red, one wondered what would come next until the forboding question answered itself. If Plague wanted a tentacle war. . . the Horseman would now realize that great numbers could be countered by those even greater.
I am your friend, Ferules. Show them what it's like to be POPULAR. . .
A dozen or more Darkling creatures with Dynamite strapped to their bodies poured out of the holes and charged just as Plague's attack drove in.
Each one would detonate at a spot strategic enough to destroy the entire assault. After each detonation a new Kamikaze Darkling would emerge to replace his fallen commrade and continue to hold back Plague. Killing one would only result in a pre-mature detonation. Dust clouded the air with each comically explosive strike and kept Ferules out of view. If this succeeded the Horseman would have to waste more time trying to regenerate.
War would find he now faced a Dark Figure standing inbetween him and the Red-Headed girl. But could he possibly do against something not governed by a soul? The approach he would take to defeating this opponent remained a mystery. Suspicious however. . . that the Guitar no longer rested in his hands. Instead it had been slung back over his shoulder for some unknown reason or another.
Still the mouthed tendrils continued to suck in the shadows for extra sustinence.
"Ceasefire. Or else."
Was he threatening to kill Plague a second time? He proved it possible once before. . .
Alice stirred on the floor behind him.
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Post by Luka on Jun 4, 2009 18:45:56 GMT -5
It was not War’s main prerogative to rid Alice of her infestation of blouse mice, but it certainly would have been something to see. An achievement of sorts.
The uniformed Horseman had stepped forward to finish his opponent off when he was interrupted by Plague’s nemesis. The man who wore his sunglasses at night turned his head slowly to and fro as if to clear something up. Wasn’t this figure supposed to be skirmishing with Plague right now? What. A. Super. Sudden. Development! He would have to report later about Plague’s lack of seriousness on the battlefield…
He watched as the floor began to glow with the miniature sunspots, their light disturbed when something emerged from their depths. He watched as the little dynamite’d Darklings began to scramble around toward Plague. He watched as they began to assault the Horseman. He did nothing.
”Ceasefire. Or else.”
”Negative.”
In a glint of polished metal, War’s twin firearms were raised as he opened fire at both of his current targets.
++++
Plague was indeed being shown why Ferules was popular…but was the man liked?
The first few explosions were successful, tearing away some of the defenses Plague had set up for himself. His temper began to rise as he saw what they began to do – remove him from the presence of his enemy. He would not be denied a second time!
A low growl rumbled from Plague’s throat as he ducked down under a large, flying piece of debris, the chunk flying past his head. More little Darklings emerged to swarm him and they were met with resistance.
Plague’s own little emissaries of disease began to emerge, their bloated little bodies only existing long enough to be caught at the epicenter of an explosion. Their forms exploded into a wriggling mass of ichor that spread out before diving back in, smothering the explosions and the Darklings like ravenous fly traps. They formed little pods on the field as the Darklings were consumed and dissected on the inside.
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Post by Adrian on Jun 4, 2009 20:49:31 GMT -5
In the moments between the reply and the action taken by War, another rather interesting development took plac to further complicate things for both Horseman. Darkness would not fall so easily to half the crew required for the apocalypse. Perhaps if the other two were here, enough force would exist to overwhelm him without a chance for retalliation. But with the NIGHT at his disposal. . . the outcome of this battle remained up in the air.
"Your choice."
Split seconds passed, long enough for the glow of jade to come from the two fanged tentacles which were constantly at Ferules side. In that instant the Darkness revealed War to not be the only one who possessed firepower. Guns with a metallic yet organic look to them came to exist in each hand. From the power displayed so far, it would have been illogical for War to believe they fired normal ammunition. Rather. . . a wise tactician would expect the worst possible from these supernatural firearms.
These Horsemen. . . they can DIE. . . become the FIFTH HORSEMAN my puppet. . .
Fire opened on War without an end to the ammunition, for it was creatd from the very Darkness itself. One fired like a machine gun, the other like a magnum. A veritable handcannon when it fired. Yet that wasn't all that went on when the guns started to blaze.
++++++
Alice had worked up the strength to move and actually leapt onto Ferules back from behind. It was not a second later before she realized he pulsed with blood. Rudely interrupting his combat, she sank her fangs into his neck. She fed from his blood, replenished by the second from the Darkness. Everywhere around them shadows were sucked into the tentacles as they attempted to multi-task.
+++++++
Ferules staggered enough to somehow avoid gunfire before dislodging the girl from his back. The Knight felt this Vampiress had enough to drink for now. Worse yet, his wounds from her bite did not heal at all. Continuing to bleed he tried to keep up the gunfight while noticing his darklings were not succeeding any longer. Such a situatin required innovation against a double threat of foes.
Instead of the explosive Darklings, what came to replace their ranks were a type which seemed a touch out of place here. Given the atmosphere already set, it seemed a complete waste for them to be summoned. Nonetheless, Light Killer Daklings emerged. And with their hyper car-battery, began to send deadly currents of high voltage into the gooey loogieys. To fry them into nothingness was the intent.
++++++++++++++++
Restored now, Alice quickly darted away from War and Ferules toward her original adversary. Each step she took away from Ferules allowed him to regenerate more and more. On the other hand, Plague would find his ability to recover started to take a huge nose dive. Body Ripper had found its way into her hand once more. Along the wall she ran at one point before leaping off & letting her weapon take a bolt of electricity before hurling it at Plague with inhuman force and accuracy.
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Post by Luka on Jun 4, 2009 22:19:23 GMT -5
War did not act with surprise or dismay when his opponent produced yet another method of attacking. He did not curse his fate or his choice in TEARING DOWN THE FUCKING LIGHTS, or any such thing like that. It wasn’t part of who he was. ‘Not part of his programming’ would have been right if you had asked him a few months ago when he was still with AX. But now, it simply was not who he was. The machine he was before wasn’t much of an emotional…person, either.
”. . .”
He did not reply to Ferules’ proclamation but merely filed it away with everything else. At the moment all of his attention was on his opponent, his style, and their current arena. The rather height-challenged Horseman dodged the shots, his small frame dodging in and out of sight as he pushed the realms of inhuman velocity; and considering how everyone in the room was inhuman, it could have been considered a feat to be proud of.
War did not stop, his form appearing in different spots as he continued to dodge until the undead vixen became Ferules’ backpack. He backed off then, suddenly appearing in a crouch a distance away from the actual fight.
”Too slow.”
His right arm was raised, or at least where his right arm had normally been. It had been replaced by a metallic mass. One so intricate that you almost wondered why War wasn’t wearing a metallic bikini to go along with it, or why female admirers weren’t demanding more shirtless sketches of him.
War’s left hand was pressed against his arm to support it, but something else was in his palm as well. It was a trigger. A button. A detonator. He pressed it.
The combined flash or what War had detonated was like the sun itself had decided to show up, engulfing the entire interior, devouring shadows like Pacman devoured pellets. The flash drew attention away from the light gathering at the end of the literal HAND CANNON at the end of War’s arm. The attack that was released was like one Samus might have created if she were high on crack. Along with the light, it engulfed the entire area in front of him, turning statues and art to ash.
+++++
As his little disease-ridden oompahs continued to om nom on the kamikaze Darklings, new ones sporting car-batteries decided to crash their party. Sparks were flying like confetti as they aimed some amps at the gooey little gummibears. But like a tractor tire, Plague’s little demons absorbed the volts. They gave a shudder, but did not seem to be in any more pain than usual.
Plague himself was having a bit of a different time. He had raised his arm to stave off Alice’s Greased Lightning attack. The Horseman parried it with a strike, knocking it aside to plow his free fist forward in a jab to her gut.
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Post by Adrian on Jun 5, 2009 2:23:51 GMT -5
HOLY COW THAT WAS BRIGHT!
Of all the things in the world, he should have expected more than one weapon to exist one War. Just not that tey were built INTO him. But now the mistake would not bear repeating again in this battle. Not only did this pertain to the girl surviving, other things were at stake. For instance the being which he had to temporarily sacrifice himself to defeat before had been recreated. And now he had a travelling compainion.
Laying limply upon the ground, the forlorn Knight did not move a single muscle if any could have remained after that blast. Pure light along with some type of high-powered attack had struck him down. War would see a man who looked older than the one before. Until the light from the blast faded away back into shadow. Across his lap laid the electric guitar from earlier, looking strangely untouched after such an attack. Darklings all around were destroyed save for just one Light Killer who scurried into an air vent on the wall. Vanishing ever so cowardly from the battle.
"You must be. . . the Gunslinger."
+--+-+-+--+-+-+---++++
Alice showed off renewed cunning however since her gaze was not toward the explosion. One moment in time was spent stepping off the wrist of the fist aimed for her gut. Garouge only let it last for a split second & kicked Plague in the forehead while using him for a stepping stone to better nights.
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Post by Luka on Jun 5, 2009 2:59:41 GMT -5
The Horseman standing over Ferules seemed to hesitate for a moment. Why? He responded a moment later.
”Negative. . .I am War.”
Around them, the gallery crumbled, chunks of ceiling falling to the floor letting moonlight stream in. What might have been the first particles of sunlight were beginning to tint the sky on the horizon. Hidden behind his shades, the Horseman continued to gaze at Ferules silently, standing like a bishounen gargoyle over the other man until moving suddenly to slide his weapons back into their holsters without nearly a sound.
He turned to look over at Plague.
”. . .”
+++++
The spines on Plague’s back snapped upward to jab at Alice’s ankle, one tendril lashing out to wrap around her foot and fling her away. He kept up right behind her, drawing one arm back behind his head. Dark tendrils twisted around his forearm and wrist, forming into a long blade that sliced through the air at her.
If the blow failed to meet her flesh, he would jump back to land in a crouch. Noticing a particular silence from the others, he glanced in the direction of War only to find him staring at his comrade.
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