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Post by Vlasta Kral on Oct 30, 2013 17:23:41 GMT -5
[cs=2][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=border,0,true] One Thing you can't live without |
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I AM THE DIRT YOU CREATED I AM YOUR SINNER I AM YOUR WHORE
WORDS 742 . TAGS Hoomans . NOTES here . made by prism of btn and ls.
| | [atrb=style, opacity: 0.8; margin-bottom: -10px;] Once again she had been defeated by some higher being. Actually, she refused to acknowledge that human as such. That girl she had run into had gotten luck and nothing more. Vlasta had lost her temper, and as such her mindset. She hadn't thought clearly during that fight. That was the only reason the lowly human swine had been able to kill her. Following she had been reborn from the pits of Hell as she had done more times than she cared to count. Something changed for her this time though. She was more encouraged than ever to take not only Hell as her kingdom, but even the world of that human girl.
That was what brought the togabito back to the land she hated most so far. While she strongly disliked Japan and its strange culture, along with the few people she had met there and the noise, she also was more than aware of what a spiritual hot spot it was. She figured it was best to dominate and enslave all that she could. To her this was a hot spot of weak souls that would soon be under her reign and command. She was more than open to using force to get what she wanted. There wasn't really a time when that hadn't been an option anyway.
She had been left walking quite a long time, seeking out anything she could find. She could feel several presences around. Some were even notable in power, though paling to her own. She walked among the humans, and though she couldn't be seen by anything of them, she walked in a regal way that let them know her dominance over them. She could barely stand to be close to them, their presence annoying her more than they would ever know. It was a wonder her blades hadn't started dripping with lava yet. She listened to their moronic conversations, eyed their improper clothes, watched as they went on with their lives with hardly any sophistication. It was driving her to madness.
She had finally had it as one man bumped into her. It was true he hadn't been able to see her. It was more than likely he couldn't feel her either. That meant next to nothing to Vlasta in that moment, and there was a strong chance that it would remain that way for eternity. With no hesitation or care, she turned around, her claws extended. In a second they were embedded in the man's torso, leaving him to cry out in pain from some invisible force. Blood pooled down to the ground beneath him. Vlasta wasn't about to let her dress get dirtied with such blood though. She raised her hand, bringing the man with her, lifting him up into the air. He let out more annoying sounds as that put pressure on his already fatal wounds. He really needed to silence himself. Vlasta's look would have to it all if he had been able to see it. Her blue eyes were blazing with anger, lips in a straight line that showed no amusement. She wasn't just some psycho. This man was an annoying pest was all.
Vlasta made a movement with her arm to throw the man off. He went flying off of her blood covered claws. As it turned out a crowd had gathered around to see what was going on, even though it was rather pointless. The human crashed right into a few more with all of the force of Vlasta swing. She hadn't even meant to, but she was cleaning up some more trash. Her strength wasn't to be questioned, especially to the frail body of an average human. The only issue with there being a crowd around her was the fact that she hated the beings that had gathered. There was a strong chance of all of them ending up a bloody mess. The good part about that was that she would end some pathetic lives. Another good part was that all of the activity would likely draw out those she was actually interested in. If she was really lucky she would draw in someone to join her willingly. She would never oppose willing help. She wouldn't have to waste her strength on those humans. The possible downside would be drawing out some righteous being of power that she would have to force into submission. That would only get her angrier.
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Post by SILAS WOLFGANG on Oct 31, 2013 1:33:32 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true]— SILAS WOLFGANG "UNSUNG" HAN: 18 REI: 18 HAK: 12 SEI: 18 BUK: 12 HOH: 12 ;
The library was a haven for Silas when matters of substance seemed to fail him. Here he would walk, scanning the bookshelves, but rarely reading anything. It was just time he had spent as a younger man here that brought him to this place. Memories of a time when different, hotter feelings coursed through him, when he was not so cold or jaded. He even recognized an old row of dusty books imprinted in his mind, one he hadn't read ever, yet recalled by shape alone as he approached them. He ran his fingers over their dust covered spines in honor of their memory, still withstanding time. Dirtying his fingers with their thin layer of grey powdery smut was a small price to pay to touch a solid memory.
This poorly funded building held charm in it's aged state. Less maintained preserved some things, and there was value in aged places to him. Time was also an artist, painting a picture of decay with a brush of entropy. He examined old rotting shelves, slanted rows and creaking floorboards upstairs, before moving onto the roof. Guard rails encircling the tiled floor of the open aired space had nearly rusted out; the rough play of some children left some of the rails bent, broken, or hanging from the roof's edge to be replaced by strips of duct tape.
He approached the edge. The raven haired, pallid skinned male was in full red today; a dull greyish red dress shirt was upon his torso, unbuttoned to expose much of his porcelain skin, defined physique, and collarbones. One could even see a line of shadow marking the division between his pectoral muscles and a similar effect on his abs. A great red trenchcoat was over it, and bloody red slacks covered his legs, ending in black boots... he took off his pair of dark sunglasses only to flinch at the sudden rush of light hitting his crimson eyes, which forced him to gaze downward with squinted eyelids.
His gaze was soon captivated however; distracted previously, he had not sensed the immense power outside the library. The shape of a callous female came into view... he folded the clips of his sunglasses and set them in his pocket as he watched her ruthlessly execute a mere human, a male at that. It was an irritating act. Exhaling softly, he calmly grasped the rusted rails in front of him, the strange gauntlet-like like accessory on his left ring finger sharply clicking against the corroded metal as he touched it. Rather effortlessly he pulled the square segment of railing away, displaying more than human strength, and removing obstruction. He then set the railing on the ground.
Raising his left hand, the same digit bearing appendage clad in that dark looking artifact, the Fullbringer sighed before concentrating on a painful memory. The face of a red haired girl; in the time of that memory he had known her for a year, all of which had been devoted to her. And in a brief two sentences she uttered the words that spurned that time, that portion of his life, leaving a scar he had never forgotten since...
He found himself gritting his teeth. When he pulled himself from the flashback, Chernobog's black fog was surging violently around him, having granted the human what he desired. He smirked, although it was a pained smile, as weathering the remembrance took it's toll. He lowered his fingers to point at the strange woman, whom hurled the corpse down then into several other humans, smashing their bodies and leaving a crater in the pavement inflicted by her tremendous strength...
Surging with a sickening, fleshy gurgle, the dark fog swirled in the direction he pointed in. The hollowed out faces of wraiths extended from the fog on it's edges as if to attempt vain escape, amongst cruelly disfigured limbs and sudden violent figures charging through it, all of which were simply manifestations of negative consciousness pretending to be entities; a series of balloons floated into the air, dropped by a child who had released them in horror as she witnessed the inexplicable death of the Sinner's victim. Each balloon crumbled to black, charred remnants and neatly cut scraps as the fog touched them, en route to the blonde woman to inflict similar destruction. The light even dimmed around the deathly mass... it was a struggle for Silas to stop the malevolent projection from assaulting the humans below, despite seemingly being there to protect him. He actually had no intention to do so; their lives failed to reach his frigid heart, Chernobog's violent influence was simply indiscriminate in the destruction it caused and it was an effort to control it. He would not permit it to waste his energy either, focusing solely on the woman as he imposed his will over the spectral, phantom-filled darkness...
No, he just wanted to kill her because she'd forced him to think about that woman. Even though he knew he'd chosen to remember that, so he'd have the will to fight in case he needed to, which had gone a bit farther now than he had intended. A woman killing a man... Silas wouldn't stand for that, not another male victim. The black fog opened like a colossal maw around the togabito, vaguely shaping crude teeth that lasted but seconds before fading into the smog-like mass, before it all attempted to fall down on her like a crashing wave. She would not decay so swiftly as the balloons did - Silas's thought this time was simply to "cut". If touched, the black destructive essence intended to inflict countless small cuts on her everywhere it touched, which it's impressive power seemed quite capable of doing if she did not immediately evade.
If she did evade, however, she'd see it's devastating malice as an office building behind her would be caught in the black fog's bite. Whether she avoided or not the building was in the path of it's illusory jaws, which silently tore a huge chunk from the structure. It was deathly quiet at first... but in the first milliseconds of contact the rubble and humans within were cut into pieces, over and over, with each remaining bit being bisected until the darkness was acting on a scale so small the consumed mass seemed to disintegrate into dust and blood, leaving a perfect crater in the building before the fog slowly dispersed into an unpleasant feeling but otherwise harmless, far less potent mist that inflicted a sense of dread and depression in the humans below as it encompassed them. Some fell down unconscious, unable to withstand the reiatsu. Several drivers either distracted by the destruction or knocked out by the pervasive residual spirit energy smashed into one another to inflict a chain series of wrecks, causing chaos and numerous deaths. One vehicle burst into flame in a square of pavement after being struck head on, blazing in the middle of a crowded intersection. Other vehicles slammed on their brakes, the sounds of metal crunching against metal and car horns blaring through the air, while the man who caused it all remained indifferent to the havoc below.
TEMPLATE BY SAMARECARM OF OTE + BTN
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