View Full Version : It smells red.
(Closed. :3)
Drip, drip, drip…
It smelled funny.
Drip…
Almost unpleasant.
Plop…
Leir’s mind was in a haze, all the colors before him swirled into their neighbors gently. The creaks and moans of the early morning after a long rest still plagued his body, slowing his reaction time to a crawl and dulling his edge. All of his senses flooded his mind with raw data it wasn’t willing to interpret, but his nose was the strongest contender for brain space. A million new scents, smells, and rotten fragrances assaulted him.
Drip, drip…
Marbled eye lids closed around radiant amber portals, tuning out all visual information. Next, he ignored the sounds of the city outside, barely heard through the strange magical fields he had stumbled into. Numbness crawled down his spine, as he blocked out all sensation of touch. Smacking his lips, his tongue lashed out once more before being forgotten.
Drip… drip… crunch…
It smelled foul, not at all like he remembered…
Yet the skin was so sweet.
Suddenly a door opened at the far end of the green grove. The rushing of a waterfall nearby came crashing back in, and light poured into the strange room that was simultaneously a pleasant forest grove at midday. A new scent filled the room, and a sharp tingling surged through the ancient beast’s spine. Leir let the mess of blood and flesh in his arms fall to the ground with a sickeningly satisfying squelch as he slowly rose. One thought brushed across his mind, battling to raise itself out of the murk. Maybe this one’s blood will smell sweeter.
Ashla usually avoided the Citadel nowadays, as it reminded her all too much of the war that had recently plagued her country. She was afraid to go back. Afraid to go back to the bloodshed and sicknesses that had caused her to believe she was living in hell all over again... But Ashla knew now that she would have to face it.
A new chapter had begun in her life. Ashla would have to be strong in order to pass into it. So, Ashla had walked into the Citadel: the cover. Then she had flipped to the front page, which was the door to her new challenge. Ashla had been crushed multiple times here, but now Ashla knew she was strong enough to face it again. Her abilities kept on growing, her bloodline freezing colder and more durable. Ashla had walked into the round, oak door with a look of determination in her eyes: this time she would not fall..
~~~
Ashla was standing in the middle of an old stone ruin in the middle of a lush orchard. The line upon line of plant life spanned beyond the horizons. Within this round hunk of stone, which almost served as its own room, Ashla could hear the sounds of a marvelous waterfall pouring its wrath nearby. Ashla also expected to smell something like multiple flowers combined into a single, sweet smell - or even the smell of the fresh water and grasses... but her nose caught the scent of something horrid instead. She could smell the reeks of death and corpses. Ashla's eyes widened as she quickly pulled her hand over her nose, this was something similar to the war at her old home. The funerals of which consisted of body pilled upon body, being thrown into the same pit as the cemeteries were overflowing already.
That was where Ashla laid eyes on her opponent. He looked awful, a demon-type created with wrecked eyes and a crooked smile. Ashla's eyes instantly switched from a look of panic to a look of calm rage. She obviously had to meet someone like him here... His hair was a natural grey, the messy strands of it waving with the winds which now were carrying the odor Ashla was greeted with elsewhere.
Ashla laid her free hand on the hilt of her broadsword, placed in its leather sheath. She tapped it in a silent warning of her skills. She tried to keep her voice neutral, "I take it you are my opponent?"
(Light bunnying approved)
Blue eyes, filled with disgust and a spice of horror, stared back at Leir. They lay in a fine dish of fair skin crowned with elegant long hair. Black pupils dilated, quivering slightly as they widened in shock mixed with hatred and fear. Delicious watering at the edges welled up, a single twitch of nerves as the brain processed all the information presented to it in such short notice. Due mostly to his close examination, Leir saw the decision being made in the soul. All motion ceased, one heavy blink closed off all of the fear and disgust. Only the cold eyes of determination remained. Those eyes were going to kill him. They were set upon a form that needs destroyed. It was better than love.
Leir slouched, his brain hazy and aching from the strain of focus. A throb ran along his body as he allowed all his senses to do their duties, and felt his face stretch into a deep grin. Somewhere inside his chest a giddiness was rising up as he felt a tiny thread of destiny wrapping around him. Not the big destiny, that tells heroes to slay gods, but the infinitesimal kind. The thread that promises you are going to enjoy yourself.
Words rang out to him and fell on slow and confused ears. The specifics were lost but the tone was unmistakable. His only response was a widened grin. The coordination involved in speaking was beyond his foggy brain's current abilities. He ripped off the plain white tunic he had found on a merchant earlier, leaving only his marbled pale skin and black loose leather pants. Both were stained red with the stench of worthless blood.
Drip…
Leir exploded into movement as he leapt forward with all his strength and speed, lashing out with sharp fingernails at the woman before him. They sought a home deep in her arm, looking to free the beautiful rivers beneath.
At the sound of a body falling to the ground, the monster ran up to her. The look was mad and terrifying. But Ashla did not feel fear, she only felt determination. As the demon lashes out for her right arm, Ashla took advantage of her agility and back flipped away from his attack completely. As the girl landed, she pulled out her damascus broadsword in a clean swipe. Ashla looked up with defiance at this man. He was much taller than her, and she could tell by his movements that he was probably stronger than her to. Physically, he outmatched her. Ashla bit her lip lightly, she couldn't just throw a bunch of swings at him at once, she would have to put her excellent agility into play and swerve around him in up close instances.
In confidence, Ashla smiled and took several paces away from him. With her free hand, she allowed her bloodline to take control. She smirked as a spear made of ice formed in her hand. She pulled the weapon into a proper throwing position and took a moment to aim. The up side on fighting a larger (or at least taller) opponent was that it was easier to aim and hit them. She was far enough for this to truly be a missile attack, close enough for her arm not to fail her.
Ashla tossed her Crystalline Spear towards his chest. Before really fighting him up close, Ashla wanted to see if he was any good at dodging and blocking. He most likely was, given he obviously had murdered more people just before this. However, she wanted to see him herself... She also wanted to show him what she was: an Icebreaker. She was the member of a noble family from a cold country, and one of the last members too. It was Ashla's job to preserve and prove her family's powers to the entire world of Althanas. Now was one of those times to do it.
Leir felt the temperature drop before his eyes managed to pick up on the change. All the colors of the room were swirling together in his light-headed half-awake mind. The greens and grays of the overgrown ruin formed an impressionist painting in his mind, and gave away the girl’s attack quickly as a splash of light blue dropped into the mix. The bite of cold made the air taste crisp, and he felt a singe of unfamiliar power.
The beast was unaware of magic, but quite knowledgeable on the art of illusion. Saliva bridged the gaps between teeth as his mouth creaked open in a contorted hungry smile. The image of ice and death would not falter his step, and he moved from one attack straight into the next without changing pace. Another thrust with his bare hands, sharp nails the vanguard.
Splash...
Something changed. As his mind was taking the time to process the information, his body twisted slightly as something unrecognizable lodged itself deep in his shoulder. His back felt wet, and an unfamiliar sensation spread through his body. The area felt… cold, but very hot. He lodged this information away for later, unwilling to take a single beat to process it in the midst of his attack.
He absolutely must open that pale white present and see what laid inside for him.
Ashla blinked cooley as he kept charging - despite his wound, despite the scenery change. Now, the setting had changed into a regular, crisp, forest. Tall, sturdy trees reached up to the heavens. he ground was covered in small ferns. Ashla growled in response, she hated the scenery changes right in the middle of rounds. However, when he came up to her, Ashla was still into the game. She swerved in the opposite direction of the swipe and up behind him. Ashla smirked, this fight seemed it would be easier than first thought. He had taken the hit, maybe his blocking skills were as bad as his dodging skills.
The sounds of leaves crushing beneath both their soles was the only other thing heard outside the sounds of exotic birds in the distance. Ashla tuned them out as she aimed her broadsword for his back. This man seemed to only have one attack method so far: claws. If he kept at this, Ashla would find it easier to simply dodge and hit him with her sword and Icebreaker abilities.
... Though, of course, maybe she was being too confident about this match...
Swoosh.
She was gone, disappearing out of his sight, his raking claws grasping at the empty air. For a moment his thoughts collected themselves, and made him aware that the more rational explanation was that she very nimbly dodge out of the way. Focusing on one set of sense was making it easier to not be bogged down by the fog in his mind. The cold but burning sensation was spreading through his chest quickly, so his eyes wandered down to its origin to find nothing. At first this was soothing, until he realized that there was supposed to be flesh there, not a small gaping wound that was dripping blood and water. Before it could get to him, he let his sense of touch be overwhelmed by the mental mist.
The moment of focus and clear thought ended, the world returning to a haze as he tuned into his hearing.
Crunch...
Leaves. Behind him. A boot, laid with a gentle step.
Leir spun around in time to see a large piece of sharpened metal swinging at his body. He stepped into the attack, reaching his hand out as if to grab the oncoming blade. A burning sensation ripped its way into his consciousness as the blade tore through his palm and traveled into thick bone, lodged for a split second in the gore of his arm. In that moment, he lashed out with the other arm. His hand straight as a blade, nails out, seeking only a single drop of blood before retreating home.
Once again, Ashla had to learn the hard way never to underestimate her opponents...
The cut wasn't dug that hard, suggesting he meant no serious wound; however the single cut by a single nail was enough to cause Ashla to yelp. She pulled back. Her blade was bloodied, but so was her opponents finger. It dripped with strong, red blood. The blood of her family. Ashla growled, if he had reached only several inches higher his claw would have scratched against her steel shoulder plates. The child realized she shouldn't have begun to get full of herself.
Like any regular person, Ashla reached up and placed her hand over the wound, only getting more blood on her brown, leather glove. She struggled to hold her sword in her other hand for a moment due to the sting, however she refused to let herself let it go. She also refused to scream. She hated being weak, she hated getting hit. When she did get it, she would show that she still would not bow to her foes. Ashla knew she was still strong, even though she wasn't invincible. She would try her best to show it.
Ashla pulled her broadsword in front of her in a defensive pose. She wouldn't let this happen again! The cut was surprisingly deep from being made from a single claw. Ashla knew that if this was outside the Citadel, she would have to get it tended to before any infections could form. This demon was obviously evil, as he seemed to have found pleasure in gashing a wound through the Icebreaker. Ashla watched him to see what his next move would be, she would need a moment to get over the pain.
Drip…
In Leir’s eyes, the world turned gray. Nothing that his eyes could see mattered except for one ruby red droplet on his finger. He examined it carefully as a connoisseur, watching its various physical properties. It was thick and rich, and it may only be his imagination but it seemed to cower from him. The demon brought the dome of red up to his eye, gazing through it at his guarded opponent, then sniffed it softly. The beautiful fragrance filled his entire body.
“Thank you.”
For the first time since he awoke, he formed words. His tongue had made them before his mind remembered what speaking was, but the end result was the same. Worse of all, the words were entirely honest. The blood of this world had thinned greatly since last he feasted upon it, and finding such a treat renewed his hope.
Finally, unable to resist anymore, he plopped his finger unceremoniously into his mouth and sucked gently on it. An unexpected reaction burst through his body as he felt the first taste of power. True power. Power that lay dormant in every part of the vessel before him. Leir’s amber eyes began to glow slightly with excitement, and his passive face slowly turned up to examine his opponent again.
“I want the rest!”
Leir raised his undamaged hand and closed his eyes. He imagined the black steel rising up from a deep ocean inside him, enveloping him in its cold familiar embrace. The flesh on his wrist and hand began to writhe and twist, changing to a deep blue black metallic color. Reshaping itself, he soon had a twisted and sharp full-plate gauntlet on his hand, the bladed claws extending out half a foot each. With the new instrument of death, he leapt as high as he could and slashed at her again. Now every attack was aimed to kill.
Ashla couldn't help but her horrified as the monster proved himself more vampire than demon, sucking away at her own blood. And even worse, he enjoyed it. It was creepy, and as Ashla was grossed out by blood, also a bit vomit inducing. However, she had little time to let her stomach do much of anything, as the creature suddenly lashed out at her in some insane flurry of swipes, screaming about how he wanted more of her own blood.
The Icebreaker had little time to pay attention to whether she would run into a tree or not, she had to scram! Ashla knew she wouldn't be able to simply block all of his attacks, as his fighting style was unfamiliar and strange to her. The girl was used to seeing weapons such as sword, spears, and axes being used in combat. However, she was unfamiliar with fighting tactics like these: using claws and a spiked gauntlet. Ashla felt another blow crash against her same arm, causing several more cuts further down towards her lower arm. Ashla instinctively cried out, but at the same time used another instinct to call upon her family's frost bitten powers. A large amount of white and blue particles warped around her body as she stepped back, dodging her opponent's other attacks the best she could. The more she raced further into the forest, the more speed she gained. Soon enough, her own speed was able to outmatch the berserk attacks her enemy threw at her. Her temporary boost of speed, her family's Frozen Step, was fully activated and flowing through her.
Mixed with the images of her taller opponent lashing out desperately were bits and pieces of lone ice and snow particles flying around. Even though her speed was better, Ashla still found it hard to evade every single attack by the monster flailing his arms out. She soon also had several cuts just below her left knee, on her stomach, and her cheek. Even with her speed and agility, Ashla's stamina was dropping rapidly. She let out a growl of annoyance, this was getting more and more frustrating. Pain was screaming from multiple wounds scattered across her body, and she was finding it harder to ring her natural agility into play with a leg that was begging to fall limp. Time was running out, and the girl knew it.
The ticked Icebreaker decided to end this now.
Ashla, once again, used the power boiling within her dark red blood. In her hands, as she was still moving, she formed what at first appeared to be a ball of white ice and frost. However, as it developed more, it morphed into the image of a blue dove. The power that was surging through her hand was life-bringing, giving the child enough confidence to smirk. She rarely liked to use this ability, as it could knock people out with a bang and she hated harming others, however she was more than willing to use it on him.
Ashla allowed the dove to race towards her opponent. One it hit him, he would be sent flying back by the combination of the force and a small explosion which would erupt from the dove. This was Ashla's only chance to get this guy away from her, and she was counting on a successful hit. Meanwhile, just as the dove flew out of her hand, Ashla could feel the positive effects of Frozen Step dimming... and the side effects taking form instead. Ashla could only beg herself to keep standing - even with her wounds and the incoming exhaustion. She could only hope that her dove, with its ability to track its target, would land successfully.
Cut, cut, cut deeper. Beautiful streams of red were soaring off the girl as Leir’s claws raked her flesh apart one scratch at a time. He could smell her fear growing, her desperation becoming palpable. She didn’t know what a monster was, and fled pitifully before it. The thought warmed him and reminded him of a time long before memory when all who met his gaze would react the same way. It was a time of respect, when he didn’t need to lust after scraps of blood like a dog.
In the brief moment of absent mindedness, Leir had failed to notice that his prey suddenly grew much faster and was out of his reach. On top of that, he was beginning to realize a dull burning throughout his entire body that he didn’t recognize. The hole in his shoulder burned relentlessly, and a stinging numbness was rapidly spreading through his arm. His entire body felt like it was falling asleep.
Suddenly a heavy realization hit him. His lucaviafate powers were not kicking in to regenerate his wounds. He was bleeding profusely, and losing what little energy he had quickly. The drain from running and fighting at full strength had sped the process up even further, leaving him almost completely exhausted.
Concentrating to avoid showing any of his symptoms, Leir wandered slowly into the small clearing where the babe had stopped to turn around. Despite her speed, it was ridiculously easy to follow both her scent and the obvious trail of icicles in the otherwise warm forest. As she came into sight, a small dove made of snow and ice also appeared, fluttering towards him at a brisk pace. Part of his mind screamed out, but was met with exhausted and dulled reaction. The last creation was not an illusion…
It was the last thought he had before an explosion of icicles and snow erupted before his eyes.
A few seconds that lasted forever later he awoke, realizing that he had been perforated by several icicles, and a large portion of his body was covered in frost. Shaking as much of it off as he could, he climbed to his feet and swept his gaze for the culprit. She still stood there in the clearing, agape, that look of determined hate waning under the pressure of defeat.
He decided to not change his tactics, because it was forcing her into desperate and unplanned retaliations. However as soon as he tried to leap back at her, he realized his body wasn’t responding properly. Large chunks of ice were lodged in various parts of him, and the majority of his form felt cold and numb. With a heavy sigh, he took to a soft but brisk walk towards her, his bladed gauntlet twitching with anticipation.
It worked!
However, the man still stood up again. Ashla's tired, blue eyes narrowed. She knew she must stay within missile range, she must be cautious. She watched as he slowly inched towards her, staggering on his two feet. As she watched, she put her sword away and pulled her steel knife from the sheath on one of her leather gloves, then pulled both of them off. She bent over, eyes still on her opponent, and put her knife in the sheath on her leg belt. Then she reached into one of her pouches with her good hand and quickly pulled out her own gauntlets. They had plates from a metal much stronger than iron on the palms and they would make for a good defense against this devil's own fighting tactics. Ashla thought it over, this was basically a more... pointy... version of unarmed combat. She would just have to use her own skills in unarmed combat against him. But as the Icebreaker pulled the appropriate leather gauntlet up her cut up arm, she felt her wounds scream against the feeling of the leather pulling her sleeveless arms.
The girl hissed but remained stern. She had to keep going! She hated losing, she felt weak. She always judged herself by her performance in combat. If she lost, she was useless. Another hiss escaped her as she pulled out her broadsword and kept it in her good arm. She pulled it up in a defensive stance just as the man reached her. Ashla sighed and despite her wounds, pushed on. The Icebreaker was totally exhausted, now her Frozen Step melted away and was replaced with an extreme blow of wariness. She was shaking now, sweat was dripping from her hair. But she remained standing despite her violently vibrating legs.
She swung her damascus blade towards his neck, aiming for a decapitation. Meanwhile, she prepared for any new attacks, holding her hand out and keeping the strong plate facing him. In the process, she stepped away from the man. If she could get away - whether she strike or not - she could go into her plan for missile attacks. As she stepped back, her belt's weapons shook within the choppy force. Amongst these weapons was a handheld crossbow...
Leir’s body felt like lethargic acid, and was giving him complaints and delays instead of responses to his commands. His Lich’s gauntlet refused to form on his right hand, mangled as it was by the earlier sword blow. Based on the rate of blood loss, the blade had connected with a wrist bone and severed the nerves of his palm completely. The hole in his chest had missed everything vital, but had made moving his right arm more difficult as his body reacted poorly to the deep wound. A red haze was beginning to come over his vision, hunger the only force driving his body on in the battle. The chill blood had tasted so good, and he could still feel it circulating through him, beckoning him to drink the rest. His wounds were emptying veins, hollowing them out. Every dry inch of his body screamed for fresh blood to fill the void.
Finally his slow gait brought him within range of the tasty woman’s blade, and it immediately arced at his neck. The intent was clear, and little fear remained in those eyes behind the desperation and exhaustion. This was possibly his last chance, every time she swung that sword she left herself incredibly open to counter-attack. It was a skilled swing, but she was not accustomed to brutal close-combat fighting. He ducked the shot, simply letting his body fall to its knees, and then brought his bladed hand up with all the force left in his body. A sickened smile spread across his face as it sped towards its target, full of intent and lust.
Clank!
A thunderous jolt burst up Leir’s arm, followed by a cloud of confusion. Soon the soft pattering of shattered claws hitting the grass before him clued the demon into the events. His eyes raised to the girl, a crossbow eye-level with his face, and a thick gauntlet with a few tiny scratches protecting her heart. He brought up his own armored hand and gazed in disbelief at the bent and severed blades. It was over.
Calm flowed over the exhausted and pained demon, detaching his psyche from the reality of the situation. Now he would die, his soul would separate itself from this old shell, and begin anew. He had just awoken, and could only foresee a long slumber in astral unconsciousness as his form was rebuilt.
Dying to such a icy child was the greatest joke he had ever heard. A choked laugh escaped his mouth, followed by a cackle, then hysteric laughter. Amber eyes turned up to stare deep into the dark brown above him, as he laughed maniacally on his knees before the warrior. The insanity of his voice rose and rose as he waited for her to end him, the sound echoing off the trees, laughter filling the whole arena. Such a joke.
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