RE: =WPC 2022= Field of Hunger


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2/10/2022 17:05:52

GrimmJester
Member

Gith skipped over C.R.A.B’s back carapace, slamming the ventilation hatch shut before slipping down into the cockpit once more. It seemed this time he’d made it unscathed, the black mist having obscured the view for most of the combatants, the other two being too occupied with their duel to have paid too much attention to what he was doing. Breathing a sigh of relief within the metal sarcophagus that was the cramped operators compartment, feeling secure once more. He didn’t much care for being outside in this harsh unkind environment. Without C.R.A.B he doubts he would have lasted more than a couple of seconds with the fearsome creatures that inhabited this battlefield. Flipping the switches that had powered the core off and started the auxiliary generator back into their original position the soft thrum of the proton power core overtook the fuming chug of diesel. All of the main systems once more powering up and raising C.R.A.B from her dormant state, the glowing red lenses of her camera’s slowly shifting towards the circle of smoke where he could now start to make out what was going on.

Auxiliary Fuel Pump - Off
Manual Controls - Locked
Instruments - Check
Directional Gyro - Set
Magnetos - Check
Shoulder Harness - Fastened
Hydraulic System - Online
Power Core Output - 50%
All Systems Online

Smoke coiled up towards the sky from the Rail Gun as it began cooling down from it’s most recent shot. There was no time to waste though, he’d have to get them back in the fight. He knew not by what criteria the gods of this place were judging them but he’d done nothing but wait and wait! He needed to move, and fast. C.R.A.B's legs skittered over the ground, marring it’s surface throughout her path once more. A permanent testament to her passage inscribed into unforgiving glass, rushing towards the dissipating smoke with the heavy clanking of steel. She was unfortunately anything but stealthy but the combatants were so focused on their own tasks and the remaining wisps of smoke obscured their vision enough that perhaps there was a chance they would go unseen once more. Without C.R.A.B’s heavy mechanical body he would have a much greater chance of going unnoticed, but it would also leave him rather defenseless. It was not a risk he could take.

There were clashes of steel, blurred shapes swinging weapons relentlessly at one another. As soon as one was struck another moved in. He could see them clearer now… The elf had lost his armor, by the look of things he was the one who had taken the brunt of his earlier shot. A glancing blow, had it hit dead center he would not still be standing. Still... It hadn't been the target he'd intended, that was the strange musician now creeping up on the weaponsmith as the minotaur was still reeling from his blow. Another blow struck, the bow of whatever hellish instrument had been played earlier slicing into the man's flesh, sending ribbons of red splattering onto the arena floor. Then the minotaur moved to strike while he was distraught… They were on the same team, Gith and the two of them, but as much as he didn’t necessarily care for a fair fight, this was just a slaughter. He’d seen something in the smith, something worthy of some respect… Worthy of at least more even odds. His head was pounding, still reeling from the backlash of the impacts C.R.A.B had taken in their last meeting. Now it was his turn… His turn to retaliate, his turn to intervene!

Power Core Output - 95%

The saw spun up to speed with a deafening whirr just as C.R.A.B reached the edge of the smoke dissipating from the dance of death going on within it. Her cameras glowing red through the smoke as her vents hissed thick clouds of steam. A visage of mechanical might making itself known to the combatants, a monster with glowing red eyes and spindly limbs, motors screeching with fury. Once more unto the breach!
”You will find no atonement here, chuba. Only death and regret.” Gith’s tinny mechanical voice rang out while C.R.A.B’s claw lashed out, clamping down on Lune’s damaged arm, though Gith had not seen it become damaged, nor was he as of yet aware of what manner of creature they were. The remnant wisps of smoke still obscuring everything’s true nature. Pistons hissed and metal clunked as the claw spun and wrenched towards itself, aiming to pull the musician up off the floor and away from the smith for a moment.
”Think you can just get away with whatever that music was ah, gimbo? You’re about to be de-composing!” Though to his surprise only part of the strange abomination came with him with a sickly cracking noise. A splintered, jagged arm like from some strange damaged puppet. Whatever that thing was… Human it was not.

There was no time to be thinking about it too much though, still three combatants left and even half a second's hesitation might cost him his life. The shattered severed arm was sent flying across the battlefield, bouncing across the glass as the giant claw shifted to the side and opened its jaws, freeing itself up for the next attack. Her saw swung out in a wide arch towards the other two combatants, Gith's focus split and the swing was thrown without a clear and focused target.
"I do not know you, half and half, but I cannot suffer you to be in my path!" He shouted towards the Minotaur as he swung, it was sluggish but would still be quite devastating to anything that remained fully within the path of the saw when it made impact. With all systems running at maximum capacity already, he couldn't risk spooling up the rail gun and pushing her into another overheat cycle. Besides, it was far too slow to be practical to use in close quarters. People would have far too much time to step out of the way when they noticed it's coils begin to glow.

Power Core Output - 100%

Post #: 26

2/11/2022 22:46:35

Apocalypse
Member

The stranger grabbed hold of the handle and pulled the sword from its sheath. It was a thin blade, delicate as a feather but with a strength beyond measure. In the lantern’s light, it glittered and glowed; in its absence, it all but vanished.

The stranger, with the smith’s encouraging nod, approached a shield hanging on the wall. With a single swing, the sword split it in twain. To the stranger, it was as if the blade had cut through empty air. He raised the sword up to the light. “A weapon above all others…”

“Yes”, replied the smith. “First, I began with the glow of a diamond formed deep in Lore’s heart. Second, I wove in rays harvested from the sun and beams plucked from the moon. And lastly, I sang it a wistful gale stolen from a storm at sea.” The smith, grinning ear to ear, handed over the sheath of emerald and gold. “I daresay the finest work I have ever accomplished. And all thanks to the gift you bestowed to me.”

“Indeed,” said the stranger with a smile full of mirth but harboring mischief beneath its surface. “I thank you for your service, good smith. Far and wide shall the reputation of your sword be known.” With nary another word, the stranger took his leave.

Outside and far from the smith’s ears, the stranger laughed. “Far and wide, I did say.” Stalking towards the nearing village with its unassuming people, the stranger drew the weapon above all others. “And I am indeed a man of my word.”

The minotaur’s howl joined the sickening crunch of bone in a wonderful chorus. Makyr sneered - she only traded a killing stroke for a ruinous one. “Impetuous pup.” He raised his hammer high to deliver the final blow.

Searing pain burst along his forearm. Pale limb splattered red under the starlight. Hissing through clenched teeth, Makyr pivoted on his heel to face his assailant. The bard - face brimming with inhuman glee - gave no quarter and lashed out with its hardened fist. Makyr cursed his folly and threw himself backwards away from the skirmish. The...thing’s hand brushed strands of loose hair as it passed by his face. The thought of it touching him twisted his stomach into knots. Swallowing his discomfort, the smith landed on his feet and brandished his hammer before him. The bard gazed into him with a twisted smile. “You never did answer, what instrument do you play?” The Unmakyr let the question hang in the air between them, but the answer danced across his mind as the arena’s sickly eye rested upon him.

My instrument is the hammer, my choir the forge. With it, I made misery my melody.

The cracking of glass stole the dark elf’s attention. Red eyes darted to the metal behemoth barreling down upon them. Eager to avoid a second encounter with the colossus, Makyr stole across the glass and away from the machine. Fortune favored him as the machine focused its onslaught on the malevolent musician. A grim smirk splashed across the smith’s face for a brief moment. Let those two have at each other. That just leaves- A flash of silver cut off his thought. Instinct drove him to swing his hammer in an upwards arc. Steel and starlight rang out together, its sweet song accompanied by the explosion of fiery splinters in his shoulder. He cried out as the hammer’s familiar grip slipped from his fingers.

...no...

End over end, the shimmer of silver twirled through the air.

No.

Abandoning all thoughts of safety, Makyr pursued the argent beacon.

“NOOO!”

All to no avail. The hammer dipped below the battlefield’s horizon to rejoin the stars below.

Makyr collapsed to his knees, heart sinking deep in his chest and anchoring him to the floor.

The forgehammer…

…his greatest gift…

…his one chance to undo his wrongs…

…gone.

The emerald eye flickered over to his fallen form, pupil pulsating with greed. The Unmakyr grit his teeth…

…and roared.

He roared with desperation and fury. He roared with the anguish of a last hope extinguished. Fire burning in his eyes, the Unmakyr turned back to the foe responsible for his perdition. “Naught to do with my sins, do you?” He launched himself at her, caution and restraint engulfed by passion and hate. “Then allow me to indulge once more!” His gaze flashed to the ballistae resting atop the crustacean’s body, its complicated machinery both perplexing yet mesmerizing as it churned back and forth.

Forget a world of honor.

Forget a world of redemption.

Become what you always were.

Crimson striations coiled over his chest, the bow in his hand winking out of existence as they did so. Line by line and curve by curve, they formed a new shape, bold and bright against his skin. The Unmakyr held his hands before him, facing the minotaur wielding her heavy blade.

A master of death.

Constellations of light wove in his grip, coalescing into a ballistae, no, a railgun. A weapon of the new age produced en masse to wreak havoc and devastation from afar. So impersonal. So merciless.

A weapon worthy of this world.

Pale fingers worked the railgun’s machinations, coils whirring to life in response. They swelled with heat as the reverberations grew louder and louder. Chalkwhite skin scorched to black in his grasp. Blisters bubbled and burst. Through clenched teeth he tasted naught but iron. Sheer agony emblazoned itself on his forearms and wrists, but still he held on. He would make it his own. Devouring the pain and consuming it all, the Unmakyr raised the barrel skywards as the minotaur leapt through the air, blade sparking alight in her hands.

As we have sewn…

Fire and steel descended upon the smith. With a final whine, the railgun reached its apex.

“...now reap!”

Post #: 27

2/12/2022 19:09:42

roseleaf320
Creative!

Metal clanged against metal as Nycthemeron connected with the cloudy elf’s hammer.
Drat, he’s quick!
The momentum of the greatsword continued forward as she felt a pang in her wrist and struggled to keep her grip on the weapon. She watched as the hammer broke free from the elf’s grasp and flew through the air. The glowing eye seemed to halt its frantic movements to follow the weapon’s smooth trajectory as it spun right over the edge.
Yes! How’s THAT feel! The Minotaur grinned at the elf's howl. Bet you regret picking a fight with me now!
Nox, incoming!

Blazing light erupted from the minotaur's wrist, a noontime sun formed to block a large, whirring saw as it swung towards her. Eyes flared in fear as the weapon sparked against the sunshield and the minotaur watched her already shattered arm bowed under the contraption’s force.
The Crab is back.
Stupid metal thing doesn’t have a smell! Perhaps a faint one, if she strained. But it was too easily missed.

She sidestepped and attempted to push the saw away with her shield before it dissipated. But her strength failed her as her sunlight folded in on itself and the arm flopped to her side. The minotaur gritted her teeth at the screeching of the robotic saw as it seared against her armor.
I'm sorry, Nox!
Its sharp teeth grazed across her plate and dug into the exposed chainmail beside it. Crap! She hissed and stepped away, her bleeding side held in her left hand. Bronze faded from her skin as she gasped for haggard breaths. The warmth that blanketed Heme’s arm took on a sinister feel; she could feel the prickling, teeth-grating throb underneath it that signaled shattered bone.
We’ve done this before, too.
She remembered each breath rising and falling in agony; the Commander’s call for retreat. She remembered explicitly ignoring both. So the Cycle moved on. Without her.

“Bless the Day, Bless the Night
Bless the Stars that shine so bright
Take your turns and keep me safe
Please let me sleep and help me wake”

- Child’s bedtime prayer, from ”My Sun and my Moon”

I’m out of this fight; it’s your turn, Nox.
I can’t lift it anymore, Heme.
What?
I can’t lift Nycthemeon. She held the weapon awkwardly, its tip braced against the glass floor. The dull throbbing in her wrist had been overpowered by the sting from the saw, but it was definitely there. It’s either sprained or broken; doesn’t matter which. I can’t lift it.
...We have two hands. It made total sense, and no sense at all.
You’re kidding.
No.
You JUST told me not to use my magic on your ball! Even as she thought it, she found it made sense. Her greatsword had always felt too heavy for one hand.
I didn’t need it. But you need a second hand.
The minotaur nodded; both voices fell silent. Left arm swung haphazardly to meet the right and wrap trembling fingers around the greatsword’s hilt. With a growl of effort and resolve, the minotaur leapt towards the elf, who smelled of charcoal and metal and anger; whose pristine cloud-like complexion was now marred with a scarlet no sunset could ever mimic. Azure and bronze ignited as one as she raised the greatsword over her head to come down upon him. From the left came fire; from the right, smoke; as the minotaur channeled the last of her strength into Nycthemeron and it erupted into a blazing fury. There was still much she didn’t know. But this-- this felt right.

“We look to Helia and Dio on this blessed day, and rejoice with Orou— their father and mother— in their meeting. For though Helia and Dio often fight, each wanting more of the sky than their due, we must not forget they are siblings. Today, they come together in compromise to share the sky, to cleanse the earth and reset their timelines. Let us celebrate, and go forth to comfort those who may fear this day and share the good news.”

- Final prayer intoned by Sect Mother Gladia during eclipses.

Post #: 28

2/12/2022 19:48:55

GrimmJester
Member

Desperate times call for desperate measures. An old adage that was proving more and more true with each passing moment upon this battlefield. C.R.A.B’s saw crashed against the shield of the minotaur. Weak! Her hydraulics drove through the swing, glancing off of the tough armor of the bestial creature in a shower of metalic sparks. It’s teeth dulled, it’s motor struggling to keep the whirling blade at speed for a moment until the pressure was gone and it could freely spin itself up once more. A streak of silver across the other screen. His gaze shifted over while the saw arm retracted, pulling it close to C.R.A.B’s large body, ready for the next assault as… Clang! the ringing of steel shook the cockpit, his mind screamed in agony! The bard had taken the moment's hesitation, the temporary distraction to close the gap and execute their vengeance swiftly and with no remorse. Even with an arm torn clean off their body it seemed they hadn’t slowed down for near as long as he’d expected… Sabe… It had struck with the jagged shards of it’s strange metallic body into the same joint that the smith had damaged earlier. The hastily repaired patch of steel heated far too rapidly and not annealed, leaving it hard but brittle. He saw as the leg tumbled to the side before his view shifted, gravity pulling the front half of C.R.A.B’s body to the ground, the cameras not adapting quick enough before her front came crashing down into the ground, sending shards of glass spraying out from where it had impacted.

No… Not like this. Not yet! He couldn’t fall here! His jaw tensed, flexed… He knew what he had to do. He had to take the risk, he could not allow himself to just sit idly by as a gigantic target between these enemies. Not once in the life of his entire species had their kin just rolled over and died. They clawed and scratched for every scrap of life! When their planet no longer supported life they carved out a new life within the void. So too would he carve out a path towards life within what seemed like a hopeless moment. C.R.A.B’s saw slammed down into the ground, blade whirring into the glass before it crunched loudly, bent and stopped. The hydraulic arm stutteringly lifting her front up, putting that weight upon the weapon limb once more. Her Claw reached down to clutch the leg of the bard. Begone! With a loud clunk; steel closed around silver cabling, her pistons extending fully, pumping as much oil into the weapons hydraulics as she could, as rapidly as it could! The bard sent airborne by mechanical might, landing with a thud and skidding across the ground. C.R.A.B’s camera followed their trajectory to… Dzemang! The Violin!
The railgun swiveled towards Lune, the bard already recovering, hobbling towards their discarded instrument! They couldn’t be allowed to play that disgusting music once more. Whatever new sonata they would create could not be allowed to happen!

Power Core Output - 100%
Power Core Override
Power Core Output - 105%

Power Core Output - 110%

Her body limped, turning towards the bard that had caused them all so much suffering through their discordant music, joints screeching in agony, sparks shooting out from the severed limb as oil sprayed from ruptured tubing. He watched helplessly as the strange being fell over next to that accursed instrument, dragging themselves up to a seat, and hefted their bow... C.R.A.B had to be faster. Must be faster! If he could only push her a little further!

Power Core Output - 115%
Magnetic Array at 10%

Power Core Output - 120%
Power Core Levels Critical
Magnetic Array at 20%

The warning klaxons blared loudly in his head, the insistent painful throbbing jarring his brain as everything screamed to stop, to slow down and to take the time to recover, to cool down and do things the right way… But he couldn’t. There was no time left. It was now or never and he had to take the now! Had to gamble on the odds that C.R.A.B would make it before the bard could do their sinister works! His vision blurred as blood pooled in his tear ducts and dripped from his nose. Heat radiated from the pulsating power core hot enough to singe his fur, to touch the sides of the cockpit would be to burn his flesh. The magnetic coils of the railgun rapidly spooled up, the heavy clunk of another slug being loaded into it’s barrel as the weapon began to glow with heat once more.

Power Core Output - 130%
Power Core Levels Critical
Proton Core Meltdown Imminent
Magnetic Array at 99%

It would take just another moment, just one more second and he would be able to send the shell straight through the bard’s body and end their wretched existence once and for all… The power core just had to hold up until then… Just a little bit longer. Gith had never been a religious man, life in the void of space has a tendency to dissolution one from too many thoughts of some greater power, well either that or the opposite but in Gith’s case it was the former. Now though… Now he prayed. Prayed to whatever powers were listening for C.R.A.B to hold on just a little longer. For her to last just as long as he needed to unleash her weaponry and then power her down to save both of their lives. To fail here would surely lead to the proton powercore going supernova, erupting within her body in burst of unbridled energy, sending shrapnel of red hot metal in every direction and leaving nothing but a crater in the glass where she had once stood. It would be certain death.

Who could really say what Death holds? He could not imagine it would be worse than being trapped within a timeless void in the dead of space to slowly waste away. At least this way his death would have meant something.

Post #: 29

2/12/2022 22:48:57

Synthe_
Member

As creatures of pure conviction, a Justicar must ensure that their each and every action brings judgment with it.
Ephemera grinned beneath her helmet, remembering the ancient scriptures read to her as a child.
No barrier can hold back a motivated Justicar, and no sinner may hide from their wrath.
She could feel her right arm beginning to fail, the sword embedded in it slowly eating away at her strength. Despite the growing pain seeping out of her shoulder, her mind hardly spared a second to acknowledge it.
And most importantly, remember that no Justicar accomplished great things alone. They are a vessel, conduits through which the Lord Protector acts.
Her grip tightened around the blade lodged in her shoulder, starting to breathe more heavily as she closed her eyes. The human tried to pull his weapon away, tugging with as much force as he could muster, but her iron grip held firm. With a sigh, Ephemera reached out once again to the Lord’s waiting gaze.

Great Lord Protector, all I request of you is the power to deliver to this sinner his end. Strength to move and strike with the unyielding fervor of my conviction, to fulfill the duty you have given me.
In offering I give you my blade, not because my arm fails me, but because your strength is all I need to carry out this trial. With your blessing, I need nothing more than my bare hands to cleanse this one’s soul.
Beyond the veil, Ephemera swore she could feel a smile grace her presence.

These words are accepted.

Her claymore began to glow a fiery white, lines of flaming brilliance streaming down to the handle. Even through gauntleted hands, Ephemera could feel the radiant power growing to a dangerous intensity. As the blade was claimed by the Lord Protector, the Seraph smiled, pleased that her words were taken without question. Letting go of the handle, she raised her injured arm to help hold Kynes’s sword in place. Now resting on the ground, the claymore glowed with such a light that even closed eyes were unable to obstruct it.
Just as the fallen blade was overcome with the glory of the Lord, so too was Ephemera’s body. Divine energy streamed through her, permeating every crevice of her soul. Strength that she held once before returned to her left arm, causing brilliant light to leap from the crevices of her plate. Her legs, too, were released from the chains of lethargy as they bursted with vigor, reflecting off the glass beneath her knees.
With a low growl and a soul boiling with wrath, Ephemera opened her eyes.

Kynes wore a desperate expression, only worsening as his final attempt to retrieve his weapon failed. She grinned with sadistic amusement at his futile struggle, nearly laughing as she pulled herself right up to his face. In a single motion, both hands released the blade in her shoulder, allowing Kynes to finally pull it free. At the same time, she moved her left shoulder towards his torso, using her strengthened arm to push with all her might. Already slightly off-balance from the unexpected release of his weapon, the human was unable to react to Ephemera's startlingly powerful movement. With all the force of her newly-enhanced limbs, Kynes was sent flying across the field of glass.

Ephemera lifted herself up carefully, noting the sharp spears of pain that shot down her right side whenever she moved her shoulder. Nothing more than an annoyance... she thought, stepping past her blade. Fragments of glass crunched beneath her boots as she began to run, crossing the sizable distance to her quarry. The human had recovered from yet another harsh landing, clambering to his feet in a clumsy defensive stance. The light seeping from her legs allowed Ephemera to cross the distance between them in the blink of an eye, noticeably startling her enemy. As she closed in, she held her left gauntlet up front in an offensive position, while her right hung to her side to avoid causing pain.

Just as the Seraph crossed within striking distance, Kynes made his move. With speed completely uncharacteristic of his uncertain expression, he thrust his blade directly towards the crack in her shoulder plating. Beneath her mask, Ephemera’s grin widened.
Don’t take me for incapacitated, fool.
In spite of the ferocious pain emanating from her wound, she raised her right hand directly into the path of the human’s sword, wrapping her fingers around the dull edges. With a single, painful movement, she ripped the weapon from his uncertain grasp and sent it spinning across the glass. His eyes widened in surprise as he was disarmed, shocked that her arm was still able to function after being wounded. In the same movement, Ephemera twisted her body to the right, pushing her fist towards the human’s torso as a deadly left hook. His reaction was quick, carefully pulling himself to the side in an attempt to get away from her strike.

If only that had been her intent.

Got you.

Arm surging with divine vigor, she redirected her hand in an instant. All it took was a tiny push upwards and to her right, and her gauntleted hand met his neck before the sword had even hit the ground. Kynes gasped in surprise as her grip tightened, struggling to breathe as his boots were lifted from the ground. Desperately clawing at her grip, his expression filled with panic, looking down and meeting her gaze. Frozen, unmoving eyes stared back from behind her helmet, now visible because of their proximity, filled with intoxicating hatred.
“Surely now you realize you never stood a chance, heretic.” Ephemera’s words had never conveyed such contempt, such disgust before. “You’re lucky you managed to land a good hit on me, for that I think you deserve praise.” She raised him a tad higher as he continued to gasp for air, searching for any hope of release. “Repent, and I’ll make your passage painless.”

As Kynes offered no response, Ephemera could do nothing but grin ear to ear.

Post #: 30

2/12/2022 23:23:59

TripleChaos
Member

Nine square runes line each side of Kynes’ sword. Though an untrained eye would find it hard to tell them apart by their calligraphy, they all emit different colors of dim light, of cool ocean blues and faint twilight purples. The magic imbued into them, and by extension the sword they were engraved upon, specifically allows magic to flow with less friction on the surface of the iron blade. This power persists even as rust began to grow on the sword. The magic within the runes continues to glow, even as the crimson blood of the angel streams over them.

All of Kynes’ fighting spirit swelling from the blood-red brooch did nothing to weaken the angel’s grip on the sword that pierced her shoulder. His knuckles grew white as he pulled harder. If he was going to have a chance of beating her, he needed his sword. With her gaze cast down, a pillar of light appeared once again, this time with Kynes over its boundary. Not again…!

Kynes struggled in vain as the angel bathed in the light. She released her own sword from her other hand and clasped it over his sword, still fixed in her shoulder. Desperation spread upon his face. Filled with powerful luminance once more, she released her hold on the sword and brought her good shoulder to his chest to shove him away. The blade free from her clutches, Kynes rips it out of the flesh it had been stuck in. Before he had a chance to act though, he felt the force of her pushing him away. Instead of moving him back a few paces as a normal shove would, she rammed him with enough force to send him over a dozen feet away. It was so sudden that he lost his balance as he slid on the glass floor.

Kynes only had enough time to regain his footing before she dashed up to him, having left her sword on the ground where she had been kneeling. He was tempted to think that her being unarmed would give him an advantage, but being shoved so far with a single arm killed that thought. Even still, being without her weapon would be the best time to strike. As Kynes stepped forward to meet her, he slipped his hand over his blade before letting out a cry and thrusting it forward into the hole in the armor he had made.

Before the sword could reach its mark, the angel grabbed it again, using her right arm that had been slack only a moment ago, and wrenched it from his grip. In the same instant, she threw a punch at his gut with her left arm. Kynes tried to dodge out of the way, but as soon as he shifted his weight she brought her hand up, like a bolt of lightning towards the sky. Kynes leaned back, anticipating an uppercut. Instead, she went for his throat and seized him, lifting him up with one hand.

Her gauntlet closed around his neck as his sword fell to the side, dull and colorless without magic. I… can’t believe… that speed… How… strong… are they? Kynes could only claw at her arm while his legs dangled in the air. She seemed to be enjoying herself, as she didn’t finish him off and instead took the opportunity to speak.

“Surely now you realize you never stood a chance, heretic.”
Her voice was lined with disdain, but not the kind born from hatred. It was as if she was talking to a pest, an insect, a little thing she couldn’t bear the presence of.
“You’re lucky you managed to land a good hit on me, for that I think you deserve praise.”
Kynes could feel the sadistic grin she certainly wore, finally able to kill him and be rid of a creature that could never match the heights of her own hubris. She raised him higher as he kept choking for air.
“Repent, and I’ll make your passage painless.”
Emotions swelled, as Kynes felt genuine rage at the generosity she offered.

“Repent? What sin have I committed? You found yourself in this arena just as the rest of us had, but when someone hits you they’ve sinned? I’m sure you would have slaughtered every last person and crab here if you had the chance, and you would have called it a righteous crusade. Righteous, even though you’re probably just as desperate as all of us here. You would believe yourself to be better, despite being so lost to have ended up in this checkered hell like the rest of us. You would call yourself faithful when you must be just as faithless as I am. I can’t stand those ideals you would try to force onto all those you meet when you fail to uphold them yourself. Worst of all, I hate the sickening attitude people like you have. You make mistakes the same way every person does, yet you condemn others while pretending such an act makes you more noble than they ever will be. Your grip may tighten, but the only thing I’m choking on is your unbearable arrogance”

…Is what Kynes would have said, if not for the gauntlet holding the words back.

Behind the angel that held Kynes in the air, another familiar angel appeared.
"Wow! That certainly was an excellent response! It sounded like the words you would usually reserve for me. It is a shame she could not hear you. You should speak up."
The encouragement that came from them never sounded outwardly hostile. It was the uncanny stare matched with an expression far too joyful that made its speech so unpleasant to deal with. A mad itch in the back of his skull made him tempted to think getting choked to death would be fine if he didn’t have to see that angel.

…

Kynes was not a god-fearing man, in spite of the two holy things before him. But while he was having the life squeezed out of him, he couldn’t help but pray to whatever it was that decided to save him once already.

Post #: 31

2/12/2022 23:58:05

markthematey
Member

Silence droned as Lune awaited a response. Time was still between them, neither said a word nor made a move. Lune’s patience waned,

it’s a real simple question, maybe he’s shy? Let me break him out of his shell then Lune readied themselves but they heard something. The sound of shattering glass and an engine roared behind them.

What in the stars is that? Lune glanced away. The moment of hesitation gave the elf a chance to run.

“Hey! We aren’t done with our gam–” Lune called out but was cut off, a small voice yelled out,

”You will find no atonement here, chuba. Only death and regret!”

A shadow loomed over them, a large silhouette stalked behind. Before they could react, a large metal claw emerged out of the smoke.

CRUNCH The claw’s jaws bit deeply into Lune’s already fractured arm. Small chunks of metal splintered away and Lune stood shocked. A hissing sound came from the claw and it twisted away violently.

Lune felt an overwhelming feeling, a sensation so strong that it was blinding their senses. They could barely hear a thing, nothing but a sharp ringing in their ears. This pain covered their arm but it was only that. A sensation, a reaction. Lune blankly looked at the source of this sensation. Their left arm was gone, their forearm was just a large metallic spear. A sharp stump that would barely be able to prop up their violin, let alone finger the strings.

Lune they felt something brew in their chest, was it anger? Joy? They didn’t know. They couldn’t play their violin, but the performance wasn’t over. The crab broke their arm but gave them a new instrument to use. Reality re-focused around Lune, the metallic crab was just feet away. I just thought of a new game Lune mused to themselves.

Dashing forwards, Lune arched their broken limb back. The unsuspecting patchwork vehicle broke off from an engagement with the minotaur. Lune plunged his arm into one of the legs, a terrible screeching noise rakes out as they collided. The sharp point tore straight through the patchwork leg. The joint buckled, gave in, and broke off. The crab keeled over. The glass beneath them cracked as the massive vehicle crashed down.

Stumbling back, Lune watched their handy-work. The engines roared and a deep heat seeped out of the mechanism. Lune grinned,

“Let’s see what’s on the inside” Lune approached slowly, getting ready to open the tin-can up.

Lune heard a familiar hissing sound but before they realized what it was, a large metal piston collided with their chest. The center of their chest caved in and a wicked cracking sound echoed out. Lune was sent tumbling through the arena, hitting the ground hard they drove the shattered arm into the ground to stop their roll. There was a deep cut in the glass as they skidded to a stop. Whatever was gripping Lune’s emotions lifted itself and the hunger faded.

Lune looked around, their vision hazy, only one thing stood out to them. A silver violin, their violin. Pushing themselves off the ground, they being to slowly limp over. The pain in the chest reverberated through their body. The cracks stretched deeply throughout their body. Each step created a new fracture, spreading further and further.

Reaching the violin, Lune collapsed. Their legs crumbled under them, splintering away as the deep fractures became too much to stand on. Propping themselves up, they put down the bow and gingerly held their violin. Lune rested it on their shoulder and kept it there with their cheek. Gently they held the bow and prepared to play one more song.

Lune closed their eyes and played a slow somber melody. The world around them faded and they solely focused on the song. Lune didn’t have the hand to play it properly but they continued anyway. It didn’t sound anything like how they wanted to but that didn’t matter. Lune softly smiled to themselves,

I finally got to meet people again. Such interesting people at that! It’s a shame they didn’t get to hear my full orchestra but that’s fine. I had fun playing a few games with them. Anyways, I always play for them another day.

Post #: 32

2/13/2022 0:02:12

Chewy905

Chromatic ArchKnight of RP

An unholy wail echoed across the empty isle. Six circles, jagged, fractured, and shining with reflections, shattered around a Pawn each. The wailing grew louder as glass broke and reformed, stretching higher and higher to enclose each Pawn in solitude until there was naught but darkness.

And then, stars and sky once more. The wailing subsided, the eye staring up at an empty gate, through it the spires of the Chequered City. A safe passage home. Though not for all, as several competitors were naught to be found when their capsules broke away.

The Powers had chosen. The War had begun.

And the eye of Hunger gazed ever on.

Post #: 33

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