Shego
Lost Soul
Posts: 22
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Post by Shego on Aug 5, 2013 19:19:51 GMT -5
Klang's speed and perception were commendable, able to rival that of Shego's, though Dominick's were something to be desired. The captain wouldn't let up, already pursuing her once she attempted to strike down Klang, appearing above her, blade poised to deliver yet another killing blow. The killing intent thick in the air with blatant indiscrimination. There was no retrieving this man, he's gone too far into the deep end. Klang quickly proved himself to be more trouble than Barley, his speed and weapon proficiency threatened the shinigami. "Fealty." A sudden three dimensional honeycomb hexagon manifested around Shego, barricading herself from the two points of attack.
Klang's blade would meet with psionic energies, and due to the cornered angles of the barrier, would redirect his thrust in another direction. Significant enough to possibly throw him off balance momentarily. Dominick on the other hand would simply match his brute force against the barriers spiritual fidelity. In the heat of these brutal attacks, Shego remains unshaped, bored almost. The defense mechanism in placed showed just how much of a pragmatist she is, ultimately doing anything to achieve her goal.
In a battle between warriors, this could be viewed as 'cheating,' though it is a nebulous term when no rules have been set, but the more traditional warrior moral code does not apply to Shego. One thing Klang, the more coherent of the two, can critically analyze with Shego is the distinguishing of her from generic 'devil' persona like Andrew and to a varied extent Dominick -- entities who revel in darkness, evil, and destruction in all forms. The fact that she desires something is justification in and of itself, as she is the only morality on this battlefield. That doesn't mean that she goes around killing or causing pain needlessly. Oh, she'll do it, she'll torture, kill, and maim.
She'll destroy pantheons, dimensions, and races to get what she wants, should it come to that. However, destruction, the death, the pain.. that isn't the goal. That isn't what she wants. "You still try to fight. Can't you see that it's hopeless? I will show you generosity," she spoke in a matter-of-fact tone towards Klang. The barrier radiated with psionic energies, holding up against the force of the two warriors, and would continue to do so. "The only rules that mean anything here are the ones we make ourselves. An honor code can't help you here. Reach out with your soul -- and see what's at stake. We clash on the battlefield for a prize too precious to lose -- too vast to be caged by your cramped comprehension. The only prize that exists. Existence itself."
She relaxed her stance, asserting the notion of dominance. "While your power is note worthy, your body isn't. You will run out long before I do. I am the beginning and the end of all things. I am Shego. Every fabric of your body belongs to me. You live and you breathe through my pleasure, and my will. I will end this game for you and grant you the prize on one condition. You kill the man that dragged you and your late comrade to this point. Do this and I'll spare you."
Shego smirked at Klang, giving him a light shrug. "You may ask: 'But why should I trust you, Shego? If you want me to do this, that means you're incapable of doing it yourself. You can't possibly take us both on!' A bold assumption. Do you honestly want to risk that gamble? You were three against me, now you're two -- one and half. I hardly call Dom a warrior. A mindless beast, yes, but a warrior, no." The smirk slowly formed into a toothy smile, showcasing her many jagged, pointy teeth. "You understand the concept of living to fight another day. To humble yourself to those superior. Not aimless bravado and bloodlust because something minuscule was taken, nor obedience to that cause from mere association."
"I take it you're a smart man. Smart men think logically." She gave Klang an ultimatum. Kill Dominick, try to at least, and be given the prize. Don't and claims of him ended up like Barley may very well turn into reality.
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Post by David Huxley on Aug 5, 2013 22:19:48 GMT -5
一方が他方を洗います One hand will wash the other
Shego’s bony fingers ran through the chessboard, picking apart every unit she could see. First was the queen, Andrew, then the rook, Barley. Cowardice had consumed the Bishop, leaving the knight to defend his tyrant king. It was clear that Shego didn’t care about the rules or traditions of the warrior, as long as each piece fell. After all, Klang had analyzed through her speech that the sanctity of honor and life were commodities to her, to be conveniently disposed of and misplaced at the sign of trouble. She made herself out to be a god, but Klang knew better. He knew her offer was nothing short of farce. The real god, Destiny, was playing them all for the pawns they were. She didn’t know, but Klang did and although he faltered for a moment at her offer, he knew it was human instinct to hesitate for self-preservation, he quickly followed his trail, the one his moral compass led. His fate was sealed, determinism had chosen death for the young man. Regardless, he wanted to do things his way, until the end. Neither of them were his friends anymore and he would make that clear to both of them.
Klang was repulsed in the opposite direction of Shego, which was for the better, since it allowed him to avoid Dominick.
Klang faced the protected Shego, keeping his body still at the sight of her sharp teeth. “Ironic. The Shark offering me...the jaws of life...hah...it’s almost poetic.” Although his body was hushed, his katana shivered. Klang paused, he wanted to affirm his decision and although he proudly rationalized his creed, for some reason it was hard showing his badge off to the angel of death.
A loud clank was heard, Klang looked above Shego. There Dominick was, hammering away at her shield with his claymore. One hit. Two...Three. He kept swinging, fueled by his intoxication with fury. The banging of steel against Reiatsu echoed, the sight of wisps of flames flickering and disappearing into the darkness, the smell of burning steel was a pleasant reminder to Klang.
He was raised to be a blacksmith, it was the trade he had chosen and loved. He remembered everything, from the beautiful composition of a blades nioi to the process of layering and finely tuning the edge of the steel. When his mother left to the states with him, he was heartbroken. He discarded his romanticized feelings for the art of the steel. Each day away from his father was another hammer strike, until the only thing left was a broken chunk steel and charcoal that was once their bond. And although he felt distant and disassociated, his attachment to that past was still alive.
Klang looked at his blade, it was stale in comparison to the beauty his swords made. There was no design, no differentiating shades of steel, it was a slab of metal with a sharp edge. Nothing more, nothing less. Klang looked at his blade and bit it, devouring the whole thing in small bites. From his body, more swords protruded. He grabbed two and held them in his hands. The peculiar detail of this ability was the uniqueness of each blade, no two blades were made the same. The rest of the swords receded in his body and his eye returned to normal.
“Have you ever listened to the tale of the stonecutter, Hammerhead-san?” Who knew Klang had a sense of humor, I suppose imminent death brought out hidden desires. “There was once a stonecutter who lived alone in the mountains. One day, while making a tombstone he notices the name of the man, a wealthy man, and wishes himself a rich man when the following days become...rougher than usual.” Klang walked forward only a bit, without hostility. “The stonecutter wishes himself to be a prince and to lay under the shade of a golden umbrella. The mountain spirits grant him this wish, but he becomes bored and wishes himself to be the sun.” Klang lifted his hand to recourse the sweat dripping from the base of his forehead. “He gets bored of burning the world, and realizing the clouds covering him, he wishes himself to be a cloud. He’s happy for a moment, but sadness controls him once again. He floods his village but realizes the mountains still stayed strong, so he begs the mountain spirits to make him...a mountain.” Now standing only a few yards away from Shego, with his blades by his side, the redundant banging from Dominick called him to continue the story. “He felt powerful, able to withstand the sun and rain, but one day he notices another stonecutter who chips away at his feet. It is then that he realizes the strength of man and wishes, to be a stonecutter once again. Do you understand, hammerhead-san? We learn to love what we are. I don’t know what you are, and I don’t care. But understand this...
Dominick’s strikes became heavier and heavier and it almost sounded like the shield was about to crack.
“You’re mistaken about me. I am no pawn. I am no warrior. These eyes were not made to defend or kill, they were meant to spot imperfections and details. These blades are my children, not my tools. I am...a blacksmith.” Klang hoped the distraction was enough to keep her entertain and used bringers light to put himself in between Dominick’s claymore and Shego’s shield. With his right arm, he protected against Dominick’s monstrous strength, almost losing his balance in the process, with the other sword however, he jabbed it inside the shielding, or attempted to at least. With the sword hopefully imbedded, he used Bringer’s light again to get away. With a snap of his fingers, the blade exploded in a cluster of fire and steel shrapnel. Dominick’s face was ruined, burned away by the scorching flames, but he was still alive. What happened to Shego was unknown, but he prepared himself again with another sword.
Could the simple knight kill both the king and the god?
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